Deep Thoughts by Christopher Tran

I ponder about my childhood memories. To a child's eyes my mother meant the world to me. She looked so huge in my view. As I got older, I realized--She's three hundred pounds.

Nine in a voice chat sounds like great fun. Then I think about my wife yammering away at me. I really don't want nine people nagging at me to do the dishes.

I've once stalked someone for about a day. Then I realized, it's easier sitting on my couch and stare at my picture of her.

I often think my stories will get rejected, but then I know my mother will always accept it. Unfortunately, she's dead.

I often have people come up to me and tell me about there abusive relationships. They go on and on as I rudely talk on my cell phone. Then they roll up a newspaper and whack me with it. I sit there and think, "Hey, that's abusive."

I wonder if a person came back to life like in one of those horror movies, how would I react? Would I invite them in for lunch. Nah. . .I'd probably just shoot them in the head again. Let them rest again.

Hey, Mariyln Monroe may not be hot to some, but it doesn't matter when you close your eyes.

I wanted to read Wes's draft, but then I realized that takes work. It's better to get stoned and finish my Chunky Monkey.

Bill Gates made a lot of money off of Microsoft. I wonder if he'd make more money calling his company MajorHard.

I've often wondered about fonts too. Then I realize maybe world hunger is a better cause than Courier font. Then I sit on the toilet and take a nice crap; finally I understood. I did my part

K.I.S.S and Songs

I listen to mostly country, but I do have a variety of tastes in music..Keep this blog and when you have free time listen to all of them. Close your eyes and really listen. These songs paint pictures in your head. Thier lyrics are in active voice and writers should write in this basic fashion. All these songs all hit the top chart in their genre. The lyrics are simple (K.I.S.S.-keep it simple stupid) The music had a connection with the listener. Perhaps you can blog about the images that pop in your head.

Billy Currington - Good Directions Lyrics

Jason Aldean - Johnny Cash Lyrics

Brad Paisley - She's Everything Lyrics

Trent Tomlinson - One Wing In The Fire Lyrics

Jack Ingram - Lips Of An Angel Lyrics (The Hinder version is a lot better IMO; however this one is okay)

Jake Owen - Startin' With Me Lyrics

Rodney Atkins - Watching You Lyrics

Jason Michael Carrol - Alyssa Lies Lyrics

Trace Adkins - Ladies Love Country Boys Lyrics

Eric Church - Two Pink Lines Lyrics

Joe Nichols - I'll Wait For you Lyrics

Diamond Rio - God Only Cries Lyrics

Dierks Bentley - Settle For A Slowdown Lyrics

Phil Vassar - The Last Day Of My Life Lyrics

Brooks & Dunn - Believe Lyrics

Eminem - Lose Yourself Lyrics

Eminem - Stan Lyrics

YouTube - Ozzy Osbourne-Dreamer (This is one of my wife's favorites.)

YouTube - Bone Thugs N Harmony - Crossroads (Warning: I have below the lyrics, it took me awhile to decipher myself. I've liked this song when it came out in the nineties. Paints a gorgeous picture of the afterlife.)

Bone, bone, bone, bone, bone, bone, bone, bone, bone
Tell me what ya gonna dowhere there ain't no where to run when judgment comes for you,when judgment comes for you?
What ya gonna dowhere there ain't no where to hide when judgment comes for you,Cause it's gonna come for you

Bizzy:
let's all bring it in for Wally Eazy sees Uncle Charlie,
Little Boo, God's got him,
and I'm gonna miss everybody,
I done roll with flows my game, looked at him while he lay
When playing with destiny, play too deep for me to say,
Lil Lazy came to me told me if he should decease
well then please bury me by my Gran Gran and when you can come follow me.

Layzie:
God bless you workin on a plan to heavenfollow the Lord all 24/7 days
God is who we praise even though the devils all up in my face.
He keepin me safe and in my place say grace to the gates we race,
but I change the face of judge,then I guess my soul won't budge, grudge,because there's no mercy for thugs
,ohhhhhh what can I do, it's all about a family and how we roll
Can I get a witness not enough fool
We livin our lives to eternal our souls ay o ayo...

Chorus 1:
Heeeeeeeey, and we pray, and we pray, and we pray, and we pray
Everyday, everyday everyday, everyday
And we pray, and we pray, and we pray, and we pray, and still we lay,still we lay, still we lay

Krayzie:
Now follow me roll stroll whether it's hell or it's heaven
let's come take a visit of the people that's long gone they restWally, Eazy, Terry, Boo
And still keepin up wit they family
Exactly how many days we got lastin while you laughin we passin'passin' awayGod rest our souls cause
I know I might meet you up at the crossroads
Yall know ya forever got love fromBone Thugs babyWish:Lil E-Z
long gone, really wish he could come home
But when it's time to die gotta go bye bye
all 'lil thug could do was cry, cry
Why'd they kill my dog?
Damn man I miss my Uncle Charles yall
he shouldn't be gone in front of his home
what they did to Boo was wrong ohhhhhh
(wrong, wrong)
was so wrong gotta hold on,
gotta stay strong,when the day come better believe
Bone got a shoulder you can lean on,lean on

Repeat Chorus 1 (fade into main chorus)
And we pray, and we pray and we pray and we pray.
Everyday, everyday, everyday, everyday...
And we pray, and we pray and we pray and we pray.
Everyday, everyday, everyday, everyday...
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
so you won't be lonely
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
so you won't be lonely
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
so you won't be lonely
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
so you won't be lonely,
And I'm gonna miss everybody and I'm gonna miss everybody
And I'm gonna miss everybody and I'm gonna miss everybody
And I'm gonna miss everybody and I'm gonna miss everybody
And I'm gonna miss everybody and I'm gonna miss
everybody
And I'm gonna miss everybody and I'm gonna miss everybody
And I'm gonna miss everybody and I'm gonna miss everybody
Livin' in a hateful world,sending me
(straight to heaven)
that's how we rollLivin' in a hateful world,sending me
(straight to heaven)
that's how we roll
Livin' in a hateful world,sending me
(straight to heaven)
that's how we roll
And I ask the good lord why,he sigh, he told me we live to die
Whats up wit dat murder yall?
See my little cousin was hung
Somebody really wrong anybody wanna touch that star?
And Ms. Sleazy set up easy to fall
You know while we sinnin
He intindin on endin it when it ends
He comin again and again and again
now tell me what ya gonna do.
Why,he died,we die,I don't wanna die........
(so wrongoo, so wrongoo, wrong)
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
So you won't be lonely
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
So you won't be lonely
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
So you won't be lonely
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
So you won't be lonely
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
So you won't be lonely
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
So you won't be lonely
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
So you won't be lonely
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
So you won't be lonely
See you at the crossroads
(crossroads, crossroads)
So you won't be lonely.......

Why We Write?: Part 3

Don't sit on you ass and wait for something to inspire you. You've already got stuff to write about. It's all in your life. Every writer's work is subjective to his beliefs, even the articles that are supposed to be objective aren't. As I've mentioned previously, emotion is a great factor and it can be seen quite obviously in those journalistic articles.

Write what you know. Most importantly, write what you are passionate about. It has to come from the heart. At first don't worry about how many pesky adverbs you use, the awkward sentences, or redundancies. Just write your goddamn feelings already. If you prefer to think of it as a journal; so be it.

Once you've written about what's passionate, you will find more complexities in your characters. Things that aren't even in the story will become apparent to you. For instance, What's Joe's favorite band? Nirvana ofcourse.

Point is if you write what you know, your characters will not become types, but people that the readers can relate too. Readers need to interact with the story. They need to be metaphorically trapped in the scenes that take place. By creating this connection with relatable characters with the readers, you know you've got a good piece of work.

Christopher Tran"An Author of Twisted Fiction with a Hint of Darkness"Another Author's Blog MySpace.com - Christopher Tran - 25 - Male - KINGSVILLE, Ohio - www.myspace.com/christran120Wild Child Publishing -- a high quality literary magazine and ebook publisher

Why We Write?: Part Two

There's a certain 'wow' factor, when a writer writes a good book--a plot twist, a snazzy line of dialogue, a phrase in the exposition that blows the readers mind. For instance, every story needs a great opener--an eye catcher.

However, I disagree. When I write, the scenes go through my head as if I'm watching a movie. I am in the picture looking through the eyes of whatever character's point-of-view I choose. I feel, hear, and see what he/she experiences. I don't worry about the 'wow' factor, because I know if it's a good tale it will come.
I doubt that I am the only writer that had this experience.

Don't think too hard about that 'wow' factor in your novel. Just have faith that it will come. Don't try to complicate things. When I write a rough draft, it's almost as if I am speaking to a child--nice and simple. This also helps me write in active voice. The tweaking up comes in the revision process.

I'm not the kind of person that can write with an outline. When I go to write, at times I don't know what I'm going to plunk out next. I close my eyes and see the scene. It's quite a ride for me. Even the twists and turns in my book shock me as I am writing it.

I believe this is how writing should be done. It's like nature--spontaneous--moves towards choas. It's the writers that try to bring the words together to make sense of the jumble.

Why We Write?

Writers plunk away at their keyboards. They hack through fifty-thousand to a hundred thousand words--Are we a glutton for punishment? Night and day, attempting to fight the dreaded excuse we call 'writer's block.' Eventually, we finally let out a sigh of joy--the manuscript is done--and revised. We're ready to go find an agent or publisher to sell our work. Most likely, it will be rejected. However, we build a tough skin with every letter that says 'I'm not the right person to represent your material.' Although, it may get us down, we again rise up and finally persistence pays off.

Is it really for the money? I'm not going to bullsh*t you--Everyone would like some extra money around--buying a mansion--That would be quite the life, but it's not the reason we write. Whether through non-fiction or fiction, we write because we are inspired to draw readers deep within our hearts. Our fears and hopes are hidden behind everything we put on paper--We can only write what we know. I realize that their are sci-fi and fantasy writers, but every character in the book has true emotions.

Emotion is the key to connect to the audience. It makes them laugh and cry. Even a well thought out villian has something the readers can relate too--the I feel sorry for him/her factor. This connection to the audience is created by character interaction--showing how they relate to one another.

The plot is what drives the book forward. It makes the reader want to turn the page. I compare it to a ploy that keeps your audience anticipating the conclusion of the book. The plot can be a beautiful thing with its twists and turns throughout the story. It keeps the reader going 'wow.'

Your style is the diction you choose to use. Style should be written based on the characters in your book. If it's a western, you are going to have different kind of dialogue and exposition, than if you are writing for young adults.

I believe that emotions are formed through complex characters, plots, and styles and that makes up your unique voice. That is why we write--to share our voice via words. I love to write and will never stop writing. If for some reason my hands get chopped off--I'll buy those talk-typing programs.

I hope their are others of you that can agree with me that if you don't write, you'd go nuts. The 'voice' (not the schizoprenic type) keeps beckoning you to continue the tale. If you aren't writing, you are probably at the supermarket in the produce aisle thinking about the next scene to you novel.

We write to inspire, or to speak our message through the themes in our stories. The theme often ties into our own lives. In every tale their is a part of the author's life--and since I plan on living, I'll keep on writing.

Christopher Tran"An Author of Twisted Fiction with a Hint of Darkness"Another Author's Blog MySpace.com - Christopher Tran - 25 - Male - KINGSVILLE, Ohio - www.myspace.com/christran120Wild Child Publishing -- a high quality literary magazine and ebook publisher.

Another Excerpt from Tiffany's Twisted

God, she was beautiful. Her sleek soft hair brushed up against my cheek, and I just adored the way she smelled. Reminded me of the aroma of the bed of roses that my mother once grew.
“Mmmm. Michael, fuck me now,” she whispered in my ear.
Don’t say anything stupid…. I fumbled for the words to say to Tiff. Say something! “I don’t think we….”
What in shit’s world did you want to say that for? She’ll think you sound like a freak.
I put my head down and pretended to cough. “I would love to fuck you.”
Tiff pushed me backwards and caught me off guard. I fell back onto her bed. She jumped on my lap and leaned real close to my ear. “Then take me.”
She kissed me. Ironically, her warm kiss, soft and comforting, surprised me because of her previously aggressive behavior. Her tongue barely touched mine, but I sensed the first flickers of excitement growing in my groin. She stopped kissing me and looked into my eyes. Her hot breath brushed against my lips. She smiled, let out a little moan, and kissed me again.
God…. I rolled my eyes in ecstasy.
Her body pressed up against me, and her breasts brushed my chest through her light blue silk nightgown. She pressed her thighs to my sides and started unbuttoning her gown. Those sexy hips swayed back and forth.
Oh, thank you, God!
She undressed and let her robe gently fall upon the side of the bed.
She is beautiful, my fallen angel.
Her skin, a lightly olive colored tan, was amazingly unique. I stared in wonderment at her exquisite breasts. Perfect, firm, every guy’s dream. Her nipples stood erect, ready for my lips to caress. Her flowing brunette hair hung in waves over one shoulder and curled to match the curvature of her right bosom. She firmly grasped my cheeks with both hands and pulled my head up.
“Kiss my neck,” she demanded.
I moved to kiss her throat and breathed in. Smelled her. Intoxicating.
She shifted position and thrust one breast toward me. “Suck on it.”
I gently nibbled on her nipple. She moaned again, and my erection strained against my pants.
Again, she shifted, both breasts in my face. “I want you to play with them,” she softly whispered with a giggle.
I leaned upwards and began to suck.
“Mmmm.”
She tilted her head back, her nipple standing hard against the roof of my mouth. She grabbed one of my hands and placed it on her other breast. I cupped my palm and made gentle, wave-like motions.
Abruptly, she backed away from me, her breast slipping from my mouth with a soft sucking sound.
Oh, no. What the hell have I done wrong? Have I messed this shit up?
She gave a devilish closed smile and tilted her head gently to the side. She chuckled. “Now, Michael…. I want you to fuck me now.” She leaned forward and whispered, “And I want you to fuck me like you want to screw my fucking brains out.”
Shocked by her directness, I opened my mouth speak, but no words came out. She laughed. Did she know I was trying to say something sexy but couldn’t? Tiff fell backwards onto the bed and took off her thong.
Like a dream…. Is this really happening? My head dizzied.
“Fuck me,” she demanded.
I shook my head as if to clear the cobwebs and looked straight into her eyes. My heart melted. “Okay.” I swallowed audibly.
She smiled as if awaiting a present.
I positioned myself above her, entered her, her warm wetness enveloping my cock.
She moaned, “Uhhmmm.” The sound was absolutely poisonous. I rocked my hips, and she whispered sharply, “Oh, Michael, fuck me harder.” She embraced me and pressed me further inside her. “Harder! Faster!”
I quickened my pace, and she groaned louder, sounding more excited. Her hips thrashed forward as she pulled her body up each time I rocked forward.
Pressure built inside me, and I ejaculated, my inexperience causing my pelvis to spasm. Pleasure warmed me, and I lost myself in the moment. Her nails stabbed into my back and scraped down. Something trickled—blood? Shocked, I let out a muffled scream.
Momentarily frozen from that pleasantly unpleasant surprise, I blinked and looked down at her. She opened her eyes.

Pet Sematary: More Excerpts

The Excerpt:

"Yuck!" She looked back at the blowdown and yelled: "You tore my pants, you cruddy trees!"

All three of the grownups laughed. The blowdown did not. It merely sat whitening in the sun as it had done for decades. To Louis it looked like the skeletal remains of some long dead monster, something slain by a parfait good and gentile knight, perchance. A dragon's bone, left here in a giant cairn.


My Comment:

Beautiful medieval imagery--But really, where is this going? Blah, blah, blah. . .murder your darlings--backspace. . .lol :)

Also, I believe it is the majority vote that we all have the knowledge that a pile of branches doesn't laugh. I understand poetic license and all that, but c'mon now.

Favorite excerpts so far:

. . .spend your whole life inspecting children's feet for hammertoe or putting on the thin latex gloves so you could grope along some woman's vaginal canal with one educated finger, feeling for bumps and lesions.


Although I have never seen the movie, or previously read the book (Barbie, my wife has and told me about it). The main character, Louis Creed is characterized as a logical person--having a good grip on the realities of situations. Eventually, this detiorates, and he loses his sense of the real world. Now, I like this because he is a general practitioner working at an infirmary--not a specialist. His daughter, Ellie, asks him why he won't be a specialist. I love the bluntness of this line.

. . .A dog got them and ripped them open instead of just chasing them like the bumbling, easily fooled dogs in the TV cartoons, or another tom got them, or a poisoned bait, or a passing car. Cats were the gangsters of the animal world, living outside the law and often dying there. There were a great many of them who never grew old by the fire.

Kudos to the King for this one. I love the metaphor of the cats being 'gangsters'. It paints quite a picture.


Christopher Tran