The Peculiar Chronicles ~ A Personal Ramble

The Peculiar Chronicles,

Life is made up of all these tiny insignificant moments. Like deducing what you want to have for lunch or what radio station to listen to on your rush hour commute. You see, I have this way I see myself. Myself that said that clever thing in the heat of the moment, or myself that rides off into the sunset on a roaring motorcycle with a camera on my back and an empty notebook stuffed with ambition… but by this point you are most definitely wondering where I am going with this and why I am telling you this. My only answer to you would be a very short, unhelpful response and would be along the lines of I haven’t had breakfast yet. So just don’t forget about your dreams.

Or worse, don’t let yourself become a day-dream.

Talk soon!



ps – short story coming Tuesday!

Really though, what am I?

It fell heavy. With a sort of depth that made the floor wish it was the sky. Then it was over. The pieces were scattered. The light was gone – the colour ripped into the wood. Scratching at every dust particle and aged texture there was. But really, what am I?

Written by A. Writes


The music matched her raised heartbeat. Thump thump thump. It caught her fears and tugged them out of her ears. Letting her spin with compliance. Her hair spitting around her slight frame, pulled from a thick mass. And there it was again. Thump thump thump 

Written by A. Writes

Travel Fast

“It was swift. You know.” She whispered. Clutching her tea-cup.

“Well… that’s good.” He replied. Staring off into the sun. As if temporary blindness was a good way not to concentrate on her and the way her hair rolled down her shoulders.

“Death wasn’t as frightening as I thought..”

Written by A. Writes 

Because I haven’t.

“How do you know if you never felt the wind on your face?”

He paused. “Well, how do you know?” He slumped down, shoulders caving.

“Your patronizing me!” The voice shouted, shaking out an apology shortly after.

He looked at its eyes. Seeing the worry. The hesitation. The infinite ‘what ifs’ scratching at the back of its eye lids. Leaving them red and sore, with deep lines of pain.

He drew a deep breath. “Thats the point. I.. I never felt the wind on my face. The rush of anxiety of approaching a dream that used to seem impossible. A dream of where you told people and they chuckled out a reply. I need this.” He said, standing. “I want to fly. And it’s because I never felt the wind on my face.”

Written by A. Writes

Moon’s Shrill

I heard him outside of my window again. His sounds a low mixture of growls and deep rumbles. It made something stir in me. Something full of unevenness that had me tip toeing across the flat carpet and over the chilled stone to the neighbouring land. And there he sat. On the very edge. Edge of the moon’s shrill – edge of being too close for my comfort. On the edge of me wanting to see him. His silver and gold streaked fur. Two perfect to be something that hunted, stole and roamed free in the night.

But just perfect enough.

Written by A. Writes

A little bit of R & C

“Simple.” She said. “I want to move simple.”

He nodded. “Simple and cheap.” He replied.

She nodded. Looking down at her hands. Hands that have seen the very best – the very worst of people. “Price doesn’t have any weight here. Just simple.”

“Only the necessities, then?”

“Yes, only the necessities… my rum and cigarets.”

Written by Alecia Writes

Anti Social WriMo 2014

I’m just going to get it all out.  I didn’t win NaNoWriMo this year. And I am okay with it. A little disappointed and embarrassed – but that just comes with the territory.Why might you ask? Because. Ha! Just kidding, I can give you a bit more of an answer. I got a job! Drum roll please…. at a bookstore! Whilst my writing has been put onto hold for a tad longer then I would have liked; I learned and continue to learn the new ropes of my job. And with my new job I continue to be amazed and inspired from all the lovely novels, neatly waiting to be picked up by someone and live. BUT then I realized that a really big part of being successful in NaNoWriMo is your surroundings. The people, the support – the atmosphere. As if writing a novel in thirty-day wasn’t enough, those who are avidly participating get propelled into success. Just some thoughts. So, if you are planning to do NaNoWriMo next year, don’t be anti social. Visit the NaNoWriMo forums, tweet up a storm and maybe make a new writing buddy or two!

Cheers! Happy December!



Rattle. Clink.

Rattle Clink. It amazes me how softly storms crawl over my little valley. Clinging to the free air and pulling themselves up and over the distant mountains.

The sun has blinked – and your bones have clattered.

Your lungs are fresh. Your stones are clattered.

It amazes me how softly storms crawl over my little valley. Clawing at our scape like an old finale.

Waiting. Blustering. Sending me clattering.

Written by Alecia Writes.