Children of Annihilation

memories_left_abandoned_by_99shadows-d5zzb8mProduct of a bleeding nation
The Children of Annihilation
Their minds confused, their spirits low
As they search for their salvation

Soldiers bear their battle scars
Speak softly of forgotten wars
While leaders laugh and strike their deals
The soldiers wish on fallen stars

A baby’s birth, an old man’s death
One meets earth, one takes a breath
One lays at rest, his journey complete
The other’s barely started yet

The Children of Annihilation
The future of this dying nation
Can’t we lend a guiding hand
To lead them on to their salvation?…



© 99shadows 1/16/1991
(this one actually became a song for my husband’s old punk band, Psychodrama)


You raise your eyes up to the skies
And search for golden reason
You criticize, make us compromise
Then you put a tax on freedom
We look and see, we think we’re free
You blind us with confusion
We laugh and cry, you sympathize
Then call us an intrusion

© 99shadows 8/6/1985

Dancing Flame

candle-newBefore a dancing flame she cries
Alone again, she will survive
Her mane of gold, a shadow now
Of life and living, no longer known

C for cancer, takes its toll
Before a flame, she cries alone
Color fades, shades of grey
Will she face another day?

Regrets abound, framed in sorrow
Thinking of her lost tomorrows
Before a dancing candle flame
A young life lost, herself to blame.

Wrote this a long, long time ago, no idea what inspired it. Maybe when I was trying to quit smoking?

Random Crap


The character was named RavenEris; she morphed from a humanoid form to a raven. This was from probably around 1999 or so?


Born under a dark moon, Raven spends endless nights flying over battlefields, accompanying warriors on their path of death and destruction. A symbol of occult wisdom and power, the Raven is a messenger of the spirit world…and a trickster, as is her Greek counterpart, Eris, goddess of chaos, disorder, and confusion. She will stand to the death beside a true friend, but enemies beware… A guardian through the cycle of death and rebirth, the scintillating rainbow colors in the dark wings of Raven remind us that even in the midst of darkness, we have the power to touch the light…if we care to…which she seldom does…


Standing a mere 5’2″, her long ebony hair tinged with the rainbow glints so common to the raven and falling to just below her knees, with large blue eyes that can look into a person’s soul, Eris is an enigma wrapped in a mystery encased in a riddle surrounded by a conundrum – fitting…as she takes her name from the Greek goddess of discord, chaos, and confusion. A golden apple with a Greek letter “k” tattooed on her upper right arm, her diminutive size is deceiving as she has the strength and power of a case of TNT. Her large expressive eyes conceal the trickster within, the bitch waiting to escape, the ever-present yet ever-elusive goddess Discordia waiting for that one moment when she can throw the monkey wrench into any situation or expel conflict with laughter.

Morph from Raven to RavenEris:

Eris spreads her wings wide and stands tall, her talons swiftly and effortlessly becoming sleek black knee-high boots, her leather pants tight and culminating above the thighs to a thin waist, her pale torso bare from waist to navel, which is pierced with an ever-so-tiny silver ankh [there’s your Egyptian part…swiped from my favorite comic character, Gaiman’s Death;)], above…a skin-hugging black tank that shows her every delicious, delectable curve, the neckline cut just low enough to show a hint of cleavage, leaving the rest to the imagination since her long hair flows down over her shoulders, covering just enough to keep one wondering…exposing just enough to keep one wanting. On her back…a cape? The cape quivers, revealing itself instead to be an incredible and enormous pair of wings, glistening with faint rainbow glimmers, the sort created by sun glinting on an oil slick on a lonely country highway. Her luscious lips, painted a deep burgundy, so deep it’s nearly black…is that lipstick…or perhaps the remnants of last night’s dinner…?

Morph from RavenEris to Raven:

Planting her boot-clad feet firmly on the ground, Eris spreads her wings wide and brings them down and around to cover her diminutive form. For a moment she seems to disappear – there’s a flicker and a puff of air as the Raven takes flight, landing on a nearby ledge to gaze eerily into the room.


If then, as you tell me, they are willing to restore my
liberty if I am willing to pay for it by the sacrifice
of my principles or my tastes, we may bid one another
eternal adieu, for rather than part with those,
I would sacrifice a thousand lives and a thousand
liberties, if I had them.
Marquis de Sade

The most merciful thing in the world,
I think, is the inability of the human mind
to correlate all its contents.
H.P. LovecraftThe Call of Cthulhu

Here´s to the losers
Substance abusers
To the rejects
All the imperfects
To the retarded
And the broken-hearted
To the starving masses
And the lower classes
´Cause I think we´re beautiful
The most beautiful in the world
Warrior SoulThe Losers

Tonight a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely
energy condensed to a slow vibration,
that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively,
there’s no such thing as death, life is only a dream,
and we’re in the imagination of ourselves.
Here’s Tom with the weather . . .

The Devil whispered behind the leaves,
“It’s pretty, but is it Art?”
Rudyard Kipling

All nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good;
And, spite of pride, in erring reason’s spite,
One truth is clear,
Whatever is, is right.
Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man

All that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream.
Edgar Allen Poe


time concept, selective focus point, special toned photo f/xI think I’ve said in a previous post that my story is writing itself and I’m just along for the ride. If not, consider it said. In a way, it’s freaking me out because it’s like I have no control over it.

Sunday morning, I woke from sleep with a scene playing in my head. Remember this when you wake up, I mentally said to myself and rolled over. Then I rolled over again. Then I sat up in bed. Laid down and rolled over again. Sat up again. “Well, fuck you,” I said aloud, “You’re not gonna let me sleep until I get up and write this, are you?”

So I got up, pulled out a pad of paper I keep near the bed, starting scribbling on it, knew none of it would make sense because (a) I was half-asleep and (b) my hands were numb from my carpal tunnel; so I begrudgingly hit the Power button on my computer. An hour or so later, I’d added 2,500+ words to my book.

The same thing happened this morning. I woke at 6am and had to get up to write a scene that was in my head, knowing if I put it off until later, I’d forget it for sure. 1,500 words later, I started getting ready for work.

The other day, I decided that since this book seems to be “working,” I should make a note of my process, which I did; nice, bulleted list of my “ritual” or routine for this book.

  • I’m using Scrivener. It’s a writing platform (available for Win, Lin, and OS) that helps you organize your writing projects, and it’s given me a whole new level of “control” or oversight of my writing, far more than Word (sorry, MS, ily but…). Scrivener is good because……..
  • I write all over the place. No real order to what I’m writing. It started off a bit weird, then my main character sorta took over the story, so I’ve been mostly writing his story, then going back and filling in other parts. Scrivener is great for this because if something’s out of order, I don’t have to scroll around in one long Word document, I can navigate my way to the scene I’m looking for and drop and drag it to the spot where it will fit better. Looovvvvinnnnnng Scrivener! I have no clue how I ever wrote without it.
  • I have my muse. Googled a description of my main protagonist in an attempt to “get mymuseto know” him; he hasn’t shut up since and he doesn’t seem to want to let me sleep either. Scrivener sits on 3/4 of my screen, the other 1/4 of my screen is taken up by a browser window, open to an image on my Google drive, and my muse stares me in the face the entire time I’m writing. Sometimes I’ll sit back, maybe stuck for words, look at him, silently ask him what he’d say or do (yes, I talk to my imaginary friend) or just yell at him (internally, cuz aloud would probably be crazy) “WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENINNNNNGG??”
  • I put on my noise-canceling headphones and blast SiriusXM Octane the entire time I’m writing. This is a new thing for me. I used to like it quiet when I wrote; now I wonder if that was backwards. Octane is the channel of choice because it’s new hard rock (think Linkin Park, Adelita’s Way, Disturbed, Avenged Sevenfold, etc.), so while I do know a lot of the tunes, they’re always introducing newer songs to the mix, so I am not distracted by lyrics and singalongs (which I found didn’t really work for me when I switched over to the RockBar station; spent more time singing along than I did writing). So Octane works because it’s loud and hard and I don’t know most of the lyrics. And c’mon, it’s the apocalypse…the soundtrack ain’t gonna be Joni Mitchell…
    GROUP. Placeholders of things I know are going to happen or things I need to research. Things I need to write but don’t want to interrupt the current momentum to work out. Screw details, make shit up as I go along, worry about “fixing” or “correcting” it later.
  • Take breaks – browse FB, YouTube, Google; I don’t “force” myself to write; I write when it flows, take a break when I want.
  • When I’m done writing for the night, I hit the Compile button and make a PDF draft of my entire manuscript and upload it to my Google drive.
  • I check my word count and update it on the NaNo site.
  • The next morning (if it’s at night) or later (if I’ve written during the day), I browse through the PDF, mostly focusing on the new bits I’ve written, or seeing how some of the newer parts flow with other stuff.
  • Start all over again the next day.

I’m sort of hoping that by recording what my “ritual” is during this book, it might help me when it comes time to write the next one…or a sequel…or a prequel…

I haven’t written like this in a long long time. The words, they’re just pouring out of me, the chapters, the scenes, this has been coming for a long time, I think. I only hope it’s decent LOL!

Want an excerpt? Why not.

dragonflyIn a world where there was so much suffering and pain, where sometimes you didn’t know where your next meal was coming from, the ability to lose yourself in the innocence of catching sight of a dragonfly flittering by—or watching a mechanical dog chase a mechanical cat—was a luxury very few took the time to enjoy, and it was free to anyone who sought it out. For people like Ethan and Ben, who had a thirst for knowledge or an urge to explore, such things were just a natural side effect, and for people like Rubi who were lucky enough to find people like Ethan and Ben, a side effect from which they benefited as well because it taught them to stop, look, and listen to the world around them. She was amazed at the number of seemingly small details of the world she might have missed had she not stopped to take them in; and for that, she was in debt to both Ben and Ethan.

Ethan’s my muse. Guess he wants his story told. I just hope he continues to think I’m the one to tell it and doesn’t give up on me…;)

DMC 4- Words to Live By


Let’s see. The prompt was this:

Speaking of sayings and the sort – this DMC is all about words. Of course, we aren’t looking for just any words, rather we want to know what words do you live by? What is your code, your mantra, your living quote, the words that are strung together so perfectly that they drive you through life?

Some of us may have a couple of these fantastic phrases or may have just one that is the pure definition of life. Whatever it may be, what are those words and why do they speak to you? Who said them first? When did they become so important?

Let me start by saying that I love quotes. I mean, I lllloooooovvvveeee quotes. I think it comes from my passion for words. Nothing makes me smile much more than when I am able to string a bunch of words together to create something, whether it be profound, silly, witty, sarcastic, or outright mundane! I’m not completely sure when it was that I first became aware that I had this ability…maybe it’s just that in recent years, a lot of words I see are – how to put this nicely – JUST. PLAIN. STUPID. In an age when “wut r u doin?” passes for adult communication, I almost shudder to think what (wut?) the state of our written language will be in a few more decades. Therefore, it’s up to those of us who can throw a dozen words together and produce a comprehensive sentence to make a stand and keep eloquence alive!

© Abigail Larson

Sorry, I sort of went off on a bit of a rant, didn’t I? Where was I…? Oh yeah! I LOVE quotes!

I collect quotes the way some people collect coins or stamps. Most are other people’s words, some are thoughts that pop into my head that I jot down as possible story ideas – or just plain weird-ass thoughts, haha!

Here’s an example of a weird-ass one (by me, muahaha, so if I ever get famous, be sure to put a © on this bitch if you post it somewhere!):

You know you have stayed too long when the
chair in which you usually sit embraces you.

There are so many different ways that sentence can be perceived – creepy, weird, profound? It could alternately conjures up an image of one of those asinine people who comes to visit you that you wish would just leave already – or slimy tentacles emerging from the back of the chair to wrap around you and keep you from ever leaving again (MUAHAHAHAHA!).

So quotes can be a powerful thing! Here are a few of my favorites and my thoughts on them.

be-yourself-everyone-else-is-taken-oscar-wilde-rd-5272409Ohhhh, Oscar Wilde! This is my favorite of his quotes, and it’s the one I most often use on my social media profiles because it’s short, it’s simple, and it’s concise.

It took me a lot of years to accept myself for the quirky geeky weirdo that I am and to embrace my strangeness, even longer for me to be comfortable enough allowing my weirdness to be experienced by other people. I make no apologies for it anymore (I used to!), and who better to take a lesson from than the very epitome of individuality and oddness that was Oscar Wilde!

Wilde gave us The Picture of Dorian Gray (doesn’t get much weirder than that!) and publicly defended his beliefs regarding the depiction of morality in creative works as well as the morality of his own personal life in an age when it was downright dangerous to do so. It doesn’t get much more real than that! It’s just too bad that the things he was fighting for back then are still so controversial today. The more things change, the more they stay the same, right? <–another great quote LOL! (Told you I lervvvvveeeee quotes!)


This one has long been attributed to Mahatma Gandhi…but it’s never actually been proven to have been said by him. It doesn’t really matter who said it, and truthfully, I don’t mind its being misattributed to him. It’s a quote that could change the world, and he was a great philosopher. I don’t want to see it go away simply because nobody knows who said it…so I’ll keep attributing it to him:)

You want people to be kind? Be kinder to people. Don’t have something nice to say to someone or want to say something nasty? Shut your mouth, turn the other cheek, walk away, and find someone else among the 7 billion human beings on this planet, someone to whom you DO have something nice to say. We are all living on the same rock. We all have the same color blood in our veins. You want to see the world change? Then change it, starting with how you treat others.


There’s a Sanskrit greeting–Namaste. I’ve seen it interpreted a few different ways, all with pretty much the same meaning. Basically, it means the divine spirit in me honors the divine spirit in you. I’ve always found this to be a very cool thought.

This quote sort of follows along nicely with Namaste. I think sometimes that people get so caught up in determining which “Divine Spirit” they should be following, worshiping, listening to, ignoring, hating, loving, believing, disbelieving, etc., that they lose sight of the fact that the journey we’re on – our life here on this planet – the very point of that journey is the journey. The destination – whether it be Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, Hades, Valhalla, the Summerland, Ahura Mazda, Nirvana, nothingness, reincarnation – doesn’t really matter. For us, right now, right here, this is what matters, this human experience we’re having because in the end, it is only temporary so we should make the most of it while we’re having it. Then it’s on to the next great adventure…or not.

Oh, so yeah, I guess I felt like waxing philosophical in this post…I’m in writer mode these days, so the words just sort of have a mind of their own, and my only job is to stick them together in the correct order;)

Until my next post…


NaNoWriMo 2016


It’s Day 2. I’m 11,215 words towards my goal of 50,000 words, and the story hasn’t stopped flowing. I’ve participated in NaNo for nearly 10 years now. This will be the first year I will actually achieve the 50,000-word goal…and at the rate I’m going, I’m going to go well over that 50,000.

I have my muse and main characters (Ethan), my other three main characters (Finn, Iris, and now Tori). I have my plot (I’m destroying the fucking world, baby). I have a general idea of where the story’s going (to Hell in a handbasket, then back again, probably in a Jeep).

I even created some title graphics (at the top of this post and below), although since the person in the picture isn’t exactly public domain, the only place I can really post it is here on my personal blog.


I’m feeling so motivated, and the story is just flowing. It’s actually sort of scaring me. There’s only one other time this has really happened, and that was my original draft of Paradox Manor waaaay back in the last century, haha! Let’s hope my momentum continues. I’m about 10 chapters in, and still so so so much more to write to get to the end, then so much more to go back and add. I am skipping whole chapters to get the story moving towards the climax and ending and just putting placeholders for some of them so I can go back and fill them in later.

Holy shit, I haven’t written like this in years. I hope it doesn’t suck!

Discover Me Challenge: Words to Live By


This Discover Me Challenge prompt (see the original post on JustSomeJane here)

I know, I know… DMC prompts are supposed to be posted on Thursdays, not late in the day on a Friday. I am a day behind on pretty much everything right now!! You know, this reminds me of a famous saying… How does it go? A day late and a dollar short? What can I say? Life happens.

Speaking of sayings and the sort – this DMC is all about words. Of course, we aren’t looking for just any words, rather we want to know what words do you live by? What is your code, your mantra, your living quote, the words that are strung together so perfectly that they drive you through life?

Some of us may have a couple of these fantastic phrases or may have just one that is the pure definition of life. Whatever it may be, what are those words and why do they speak to you? Who said them first? When did they become so important?

Join the fun and discover more about yourself!! Be sure to add your links in the comments section so we can read your awesome responses, too!

Making Pics Again

Just thought I’d share some more photo manipulations I did recently:) You can click on the images for a larger view.

The Witch
The Witch
Flo Newton
Flo Newton (1920’s starlet)
Frog Prince
Frog Prince
(yes, there is a frog in the picture;)
Guardian Angel
Guardian Angel
Wide Awake
Wide Awake

Story: Can I See You in the Kitchen…

images from Wikipedia commons“Can I see you in the kitchen?” Sheila was chilled to the bone at those words. They always had that effect on her. She knew exactly why too. Those were the final words her Aunt Karen had said to her Uncle Henry on that fateful Thanksgiving afternoon so many years earlier.

*                          *                         *
“Can I see you in the kitchen?” Sheila watched Uncle Henry get up from the sofa where he was watching the game with the rest of the family and headed towards the kitchen.
“Can I see you in the kitchen?” Her aunt’s words were spoken softly , but there was a slightly tense undertone to her voice that made Sheila continue watching as her uncle followed Aunt Karen through the kitchen door.
All eyes reverted to the television, the Jets ahead by 10 in the 2nd quarter. A few loud noises from the kitchen caused a few heads to turn. Man, that must be some turkey! Then silence.
Sheila heard dishes clanging as Aunt Karen started setting the table. A short time later, her aunt called out, “Dinner’s ready!” and everyone slowly filed through the kitchen to the dining room.
Wikipedia commons file“Can I see you in the kitchen?” Sheila never forgot those words—or the sight of Uncle Henry’s backside and legs dangling from Aunt Karen’s Martha Washington gourmet oven—or the pool of blood spreading
Nor would Sheila ever forget Aunt Karen’s huge grin as she called cheerily from the dining room, “Guess who forgot the sweet potatoes?!”
Author’s Note: Obviously, this story gives you a pretty good glimpse into one of the darker recesses of my imagination;)