The Lake...

Detective Emily Crawford leans forward as she watches her diver disappear beneath the calm, shimmering lake. The only evidence that he'd been there, were his air bubbles. 

The call came in at 9:05am.

Sylvia's voice, shaky, dials the number for the police. She lowers herself behind a big oak tree... terrified, he mustn't see her. She whispers her information and the lakes terrible secret, into the mouth piece. The phone signal isn't that great, it cuts out... she hopes they've heard. and before she scampers away, she looks back across the lake and almost cries out, as she realises who it is. 

Sylvia had been walking, enjoying the early morning sun. Her binoculars pinpoint the woods, beautiful birds, who as usual, search frantically for food. Sylvia stops to look, as she hears the boat chugging its way towards the middle of the lake, nothing unusual about that except it stops, and the engine cuts-out. Peering through her binoculars, she watches as the hooded figure looks around, it takes a minute or so before he bends down to retrieve something from the floor of his boat.  

Her long black hair hangs over his arm.  He's strong, he holds her up high, kisses her, and then drops her into the lake, and he viciously pushes her under the water, she sinks immediately, which must mean she's weighed down. 

Sylvia, reaches home... and with a squeaky voice which sounds breathless, she explains she is scared, yet despite this she grips the phone tight. She's being questioned, and then she tells the lady Detective, that she knows who it is, she saw him clearly through her binoculars...

"Who is it?" The Detective asks, impatiently.

But before Sylvia answers, there's a hell of a bang, she screams into the phone... Emily Crawford, still on the line knows whoever is there with Sylvia, isn't paying a friendly visit. 

Sylvia, shouts,

 "It's you, oh my god, MICHAEL MORRISON" she screams in terror as the phone is knocked out of her hand. 

One blow to her small delicate head, is all it takes. 

and then silence... 

Detective Emily Crawford, listens further, Sylvia had gone quiet, but she hears whosoever's there pick up the phone, and she knows they're listening... Emily, switches off the call and quickly rings through for back up, advising, she'd be there as soon as she was through at the lake. 

Within minutes, Emily sees the diver beneath the lakes, murky water, he has a body in his arms...

MJ Ewen

Invisible...

 A day for turning the invisible into reality... come on, we've got this!

Invisibility isn't always a choice, sometimes it's thrust upon us... but, not in her case.

She wants invisibility. She's craved it for as long as she can remember.  She needs to melt into the background. Her intentions, never honourable, her mindset itched, and irritated the whole of her being. Her hands commit the most heinous crimes... her brain invents them. Come hurry, she has things to do.

Invisibility is perfect for her.

The problem is... the things she does are not good, they're bad... real bad.  She needs an invisible veil to hide behind because nobody, and I mean nobody, must see what she gets up to.

Do not put yourself on her radar... never initiate eye contact, keep your distance and definitely, never, ever, smile in her direction. 

MJ Ewen

The Book-Corner...

 The Book-Corner...

The quaint little bookshop which unapologetically, spread over a whole corner, smelled of paper, ink, creamy coffee, and vanilla sponge. The door to this delightful building, made a high-pitched tinkle sound, whenever a customer walked in. Her old walls reeked of history, and its windows had witnessed many stories. 

The owner, a beautiful soul... whose special, exquisiteness, is timeless. 

Her extraordinary story was being put together in a special project, and she was right in the middle of it's management.  Her knowledge of books, writers and publishers, is astounding.  Her monthly meetings that help motivate, and encourage editors to congregate around her brass, polished tables, make her smile. Ideas bounce around waiting for input.  She's generous by nature and patient by choice... Places she's been, and characters she's met, have all played a part in her world of words. 

Almost everyone who walks through those bookshop doors, brings a wealth of knowledge which their usually willing to share... but those that don't, well, they have a rather different story to tell. 

"If I take my pen and write my story, will you grace me with your presence?"

MJ Ewen

Image from Pinterest. 

The Loft... In My Mind.

Picture kindly shared from Pinterest.

The loft in my mind is open 24/7... It’s a place for characters who want to transpire in my next story, or book. I’ve heard them say they chose me to ensure their story is heard; they need a connection, oh and a place to stay... It’s disappointing but I've had to disengage from a couple of characters; they were dark, too dark to live in the loft. With help from the rest of the residents, their removal was relatively quick because the lofts residents won’t put up with anything, or anyone who tries to take over... Dear lord, don’t ever let anyone try to take over.  The chances are the residents will take over, and we won’t see the character again.

(At first it was as if the statement below was heard through an old radio)

“My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”.

These words greeted me last night as I tried to relax. Initially I attempted to ignore them because I knew this had to be a new character trying to move into the loft but I'd been writing all day, I wanted to rest.  

“If you don’t listen then I’ll keep saying it, my dream multiplies, it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time” (Silence)

(Someone) breathes a heavy Sigh... 

“My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”

That someone is breathing to the point where I can literally feel its frustration as it seeps into my bones.

“My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”

I should speak, maybe even acknowledge its presence but to be honest I can’t tell whether it’s male, or female. Maybe it’s neither, maybe it’s from the other side? I’ve had a few of them, and again, not a pleasant experience.

 “My dream multiplies; it looks, sees, and wants what it wants all of the time”

“Ok, ok... Bloody hell I’m coming”.

Reluctantly and with much annoyance I progress towards the staircase... here is where I always find them. Their either sat on the bottom step, draped over the banister, or persistently knocking on the lofts huge double doors, which by the way would never get an answer, because the residents have stopped opening the door to strangers. So they wait for me. 

The smell was atrocious ... I smelt him before I saw him, and I wasn’t prepared for what I was about to see. A small skinny man with knobbly knees, he wasn’t wearing any trousers, however he was wearing shiny shorts. His white string vest had seen better days. I couldn’t believe the oversized trainers with no socks, and his small bony face housed dark sunken eyes, it was as if two thumbs had pressed them into an oversized skull.  On his head wispy bits of what looked like hair waved like seaweed, but for the most part he was bald. On his forehead he had a long, rather strange looking scar which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. His hooked nose protruded like that of an eagle.  I noted and quickly recoiled from his grubby hands, nails were bitten and black, as if he’d been digging dirt all day. He was standing at the bottom of the stairs, and lying on the floor by his feet was a small, brown, dingy looking suitcase.

Clearing my throat I asked what I could do for him.

“Ahh you came” he boomed.

Now there was a voice that didn’t suit this man.

“Yes I usually come when summoned, especially if a room is needed for the night”

“I need it longer, much longer, and maybe longer still”.

He stood, moving from one foot to the other in a most irritated fashion.

“What can I do for you sir?”

"I need somewhere to stay, and with someone who can make my dreams, nightmares go away”

Uneasy, he looked around...

“What are you running away from?” I enquired, (no point in beating about the bush)

"Nothing... no one, just down on my luck and need company”

“You wouldn’t be bringing any bad luck to my door now would you?”

No answer...

“Would you?”

“Of course not, like I said, need a place to stay and some company”

“Do you work around here?”

“Yes I work close by, came straight from there and needs me a shower”

Lip licking and nervous tension, (I didn’t like this...)

“Tell you what sir; I’ll see if there are any vacancies... I’ll be right down”

I knew I hadn’t made the right noises, his dark eyes smouldered as dirty, bony fingers twitched.

At the top of the stairs I knocked, a resident opened it a crack.

“Any vacancies?” silence rebounded as the resident stepped forward, and looked down the stairs eyeballing the character.

“Who wants to know” the resident replied hoarsely.

“I do” came the skinny mans booming response.

“Come closer and we’ll discuss”

The skinny man dragged his suitcase up the stairs; his eyes never left the resident.

"I’m looking to stay for a few days, need company and some routine”

“Is that right?” said the resident as a few more voices vibrated from the door.

“Well this is how it goes, we don’t like noise, disrespect, or parties; no strangers are allowed, and no smoking, we have a rota for cleaning the kitchen and bathroom daily, any problems with that?”

“No problem at all, I’m not after looking for any trouble, just need accommodation”. The resident made way and made a gesture with his hand towards the door, and as it opened all that could be seen from within was dark shadows.

Just as he got to the perimeter of the door, skinny man looked around, winked at me as he whispered,

“I’ll be seeing you”. He was gone.

“You’re letting him in then?” I nodded to the resident.

“Yep, any funny business like the last one and you’ll hear from us soon enough or maybe you won’t”.

As the resident blinked green, lizard like eyes, I rubbed my chin as I considered our new character, a character that will certainly get creative juices flowing; he obviously has issues, possibly some interesting history. Doesn’t really matter, he managed to get his oversized, sockless feet through the door to the loft, and if you knew the Loft’s residents that is indeed a massive achievement. 

Stay tuned for updates.

 

©2015 Jane Ewen

 

 

 

The Loft...

I recently read a quote by C.S Lewis:

 “I never exactly made a book. It’s rather like taking diction. I was given things to say.”

 I identify with his words, so much so, I have a space in my own land of make-believe!  

For quite a long time I’ve been creating characters, it’s got to the point where they talk to me, and dreamlike they make my stories seem real. Once created these characters are as authentic to me as family.  Early on I realised I needed a place to keep my personalities, somewhere they would be safe, and comfortable... so a lounge in the Loft of my mind was formed. My characters appear especially when I’m asleep, and sometimes, they come when I’m not even writing, a figure often appears in my mind’s eye, and it’s as if they were waiting in the shadows prior to stepping forward into the light. Sometimes when I’m driving the most amazing individual will materialise. When I do use those wonderful characters from the loft of my mind, it is they who speak, and like C.S. Lewis quite clearly states, I am also given things to say...

I have a facebook writer’s page: https://www.facebook.com/Jane.Ewen?ref=hl#!/Jane.Ewen which I write in daily, and recently I published a few posts just to give my readers a flavour, and hopefully a comprehensible sense of these delightful, and some not so delightful characters, and their instances... My included posts are tiny snippets of what has recently happened, and how I have dealt with them.

No. 1.

In the gloom they reach out to me...

Snoring gently, it doesn't take long for the characters that live in the loft of my mind to shake me awake. They demand attention... Rolling over I successfully manage to block out their unwelcome noise, and as I drift back to sleep, I very quickly step into dream world. Straining to see through swirling fog I glimpse a strange-looking couple who walk towards me with determination. It’s strange, but I know these two, and I sense they’re going to be important to my future in the writing world. They smile a smile that I would imagine is usually saved for the criminally-insane. Their rhythmic walk is obviously to their own beat. Their attire is from a bygone age. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end giving me a shivering shudder, which clearly tells me, all is not going to be well. Opening my eyes the fog clears, and as my trusty characters stand before me shaking their heads, we all witness the unsavoury couple step inside the double door of our loft... This is not good, and as I look towards my characters for support, they slowly step back into the shadows. I look into the lounge, and see the couple with their insane smiles fall backward onto the lofts leather sofas...

Ooh dear, it really is time to leave...

~ Jane Ewen ~

No. 2.

In the loft of my mind this morning...

The odd couple’s apparently missing; the atmosphere is tense, and a note lies strewn across the coffee table... It says,

'Be prepared'

l look up just in time to see my beloved characters, once again, step back into the gloomy shadows... For a second it all feels unreal, and then I realise the experience is like enjoying each scene as if watching the big screen. There is only one problem... I know the odd couple’s not missing, they are merely hiding!  

~ Jane Ewen ~

No. 3.

So much noise, the loft is banging tonight...

Delirious with exhaustion I gulp deep breaths of cinnamon scented air. With much annoyance, and immense irritation I stand to go and see what the hell is going on.

With bare feet I pound up each terracotta step, I reach double doors to the loft of my mind, and up to now this is where my characters have shared a lounge they call the loft.

I could really do without this... It’s been the longest day. All I want to do is rest, but no, they’re at it again. This is not acceptable, and these interruptions are starting to become customary.

I wonder what their excuse will be this time.

Pushing open the doors which shine silver and gold, I’m greeted by the newest character whose long black hair and tiny shoulders explode right into me; I grab her tiny frame to prevent her from falling over. Looking down I witness the relief in her eyes as she sees me.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Jane oh my god I am so relieved to see you, the odd couple are causing much distress... I thought I’d be able to handle them, but they cause much fear in the rest of the residents”

Pushing her back into the lounge I look around... the shadows are darker than I remember, however I’m able to see the scuffle of my guests as they huddle in the darkness.

“Where are they” I whisper...

“They have moved the sofa into the furthest recess where the light never touches, and they consistently growl at us, which is causing much concern”

I didn’t like this couple when they appeared, but my instincts knew they would eventually be needed, however the disruption is becoming abysmal... A heavy oppressive feel was in the air.

“Please Jane is there anything you can do about them?” Her eyes wide with fear looked from me into the darkness.

“Yes I can do something”

Gently I move her to one side,

“Wait here”

“No Jane don’t go near them, they told me they are going to kill you”

“Its fine, don’t worry”

The steps I take towards the back of the lounge seem to take forever; I know this isn’t going to be pleasant. I need to eradicate this couple, and destroy their dreadful essence from this vicinity, my characters are suffering, and that’s not going to continue. I turn back briefly to see the new young girl biting her hands; her pleading look causes my heart to beat a little faster than normal, I smile reassuringly as I turn back to the task in hand.

I was just on the perimeter of the place where I knew the odd couple were sitting; hesitantly I step into their space.

In their darkness is bright light, and they are in reclined positions, drinking steaming coffee.

Both of them grin pleased to see me, there is a feeble offer of coffee.

“NO ... I am here on official business, you have to leave with immediate effect, and I am here to escort you off the property”

There is a lot of bumbling, blundering about why and what have we done...

“There will be no explanation, do not disrespect me with your insane, pretence of innocence, I will take you forthwith, and I want you to know, this is not the end, I wish for you to return, but only when the time is right... There will be an opening, but the time is all wrong.

Two dark, demonic grins reach out in an attempt to allure me; their hands stretch out to shake mine...

“Do not bother with your futile charade; I know you are here to hurt, to destroy, to cause mayhem, but not yet you don’t, not yet... Stay behind me, and I will escort you to a place where you can stay until such time as I need to use your skills, your talents”

As they move up behind me I smell the stench of disgust, I walk slowly through the lounge knowing we’re in the light of my current characters. It is then I observe shadows move out from the darkness, the shadows have bodies, faces and no longer look frightened, because right in front of them is the newest little character, she stands strong, and smiling...

The odd couple smirk with a knowing, and as I take them quickly through the double doors, they raise their fists in defiance to the characters they were leaving behind.

Come I demand almost shrieking, Come...  

~Jane Ewen~

No. 4.

The Loft is quiet...

Being of a curious nature I slip onto the staircase, and stealthily I creep up towards the silver and gold double doors which lead into the lounge, in the loft of my mind.

The peace today has been heaven. Leaning up against the doors I gently breathe a sigh of relief for the silence from within... How could the odd couple have caused so much mayhem? The newbie however is showing promise; she's a good all-rounder... In the blink of an eye the door opens and stupidly, I fall in...

"Jane sorry... oh my god, are you ok?"

"Yes" I laugh, picking myself up off the floor.

"What are you doing here?” she asks as she nervously looks around.

"Don't worry its fine, I'm just making sure all is well"

"The truth is Jane; we've had the best day in a long time. Guests are talking, activity level has been high, a couple of characters still lurk in the shadows, but there have been no malevolent, spiteful acts that might jeopardise the whole house"

I look into her eyes... I'm a good judge of character; this one definitely sends flashing, alarm bells to the centre of my brain. Without blinking an eyelash, I move away...

"That's good news. Thank you for the update"

Walking towards the terracotta staircase, I half turn back, just in time to catch a glimpse of the newest character, and her shifty demeanour... My trusty instinct screams, all is not as it seems, but that's ok, because I have plans for this young lady.

The plots, and storylines I create will hopefully make you, my reader, beg for more...

So my beautiful newcomer with your long Black hair which lies softly against small, pale shoulders, sleep tight as you gather strength, because believe me, you're going to need it, not just for yourself, but for others as well. They however, don't know what you're capable of as you live effortlessly as a chameleon... HA, you will be just as I designed you to be. Good or bad though my little one, you will have your story to tell... Good job the odd couple will be in the back ground to lend a hand, as you express the journey you must take.

Ahh In bed at last, eyes tight shut; I hum the tune to a favourite lullaby... I know she's listening, stay alert little lady.  Be prepared...

~ Jane Ewen ~

No 5.

The loft has settled down...

characters are happier. However, do not be misled, the double doors were knocked tonight, and I have it on good authority that a rather special character has been admitted.

Ooh my good Lord, what the hell have I done?


~ Jane Ewen will be back ~

 

Writer's Connection...

White fresh paper with blue/black ink... or if you’re a bit more like me, then it will be a clean keyboard, and crisp computer screen. Then as you prepare for your precious session, there’s a silent but indescribable noise that only you can hear... so when its high pitch screech hums for you to come, play... You'll then realise for a millionth time, that writing is a wonderous participation, and sharing your well thought-through contribution, after  you’ve finally edited the piece as much as you dare, is quite often payment enough! Writing, reading, editing... reading editing and feeling tiny stirrings of butterfly-ish delight as you realise... it’s you who wrote the words, you’re the one responsible and then as your about to publish, it hits you... your writing is a journal of consistent healing, it’s a wonderful continuance of the work you so love to do... I find whatever I write always adds to the health of my wellbeing, and with one article after another I watch, learn and grow... 

I’ve always thought, if you don’t like a story then all you have to do is write your own... use life experiences with preferences towards bringing to life a scene, a moment or an encounter that no other could have experienced in the way you did. That’s the magnificence of writing, and for me it’s also the beauty of reading... to sit, read and feel what a writer is trying to portray... Take in their words, see the scene and understand as much as possible ~ The Story ~ Their Story ~ if you feel connected, it’s possibly because you’ve been through similar.  

It’s also my belief that if there is passion, and the narrative comes together correctly, then you can rest assured someone, somewhere will enjoy your work... a lot won’t but that really isn’t the point, there is a saying, a quote I think from Abraham Lincoln,  

‘You can please all of the people some of the time, and some of the people all of the time, but you cannot please all of the people all of the time’

Recently in the writing world I’ve been communicating about what others might feel are appropriate terms which might describe a story, the situation or even a character... It came to my attention that some individuals don’t like the way writers, can and do express things for instance... recently a writer was (politely) questioned on using the term ‘Guys’ when addressing people ~ They felt there was a possibility it could be demeaning to women... for me personally, it’s not a problem and the point I would like to make without waffling, is that, if the way a writer writes offends, then please don’t read their stuff. When I write I like to think I write as I speak, if the occasion permits I like to shorten, lengthen and use words that I feel comfortable with... I don’t do this to offend anyone, or demean, I'm just being me and to be fair I don’t know any other way to write... All I am wholly aware of is that I want to talk to you with a rich, warm, welcoming voice... so that reader’s feel like it’s just we two. I also do visualisation when writing, so to be honest as much as this post may be read by many, I only see one. However in my heart of heart's, I like to think my writing touches many and it is hoped you get a lot from my words and experiences. I have lived through much, and always try to share what I can, so it will continually be my wish, to help, even support whoever stops by.

I hope you never stop returning to AngelJanes World... there’s usually something being discussed or shared, and has is always felt... please remember, I care that you stopped by.

Stay a while, because you’re more than welcome  

I am so happy to have touched your spirit...

I lovingly dedicate this post to Irish Carter... I love you and long may we be connected beautiful lady... If I ever make it I want you there! 

http://www.dedicated2life.com/1/post/2013/03/march-passions-guess-what-talent-we-found-while-dedicated-2-life-was-out-doing-their-scouting.html

 

And so the story continues...

When I was recently contacted and advised that along with a few other lovely individuals I was about to be picked to be promoted, I couldn’t believe it... I can’t tell you how overjoyed I was to have someone take time out for me, and say they liked my words, they liked my thoughts and that it was felt if others were to stop by and take a peek into my world, they’d feel and definitely be touched by my loving, caring nature...

All I’ve ever known is that I’ve had a challenging and very unhappy childhood... which at times can still create fall-out, but thank the beautiful heavens and spirits above, and despite the incredible sadness of it all, I know clearly that I’m especially fortunate to have still been able to grow-up to love and respect people... it really doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor, old or young, healthy or sick... I am blessed to see something delightfully different in each and every person I meet.

I am also forutnate to have a most amazing ability. This ability magically enables me to look and know if you’re good or bad, if the moment is right for whatever is going on... I have ability to sense the agenda that might be lurking deep-down in your persona... I sense it almost like warmth, tingles, a coldness or even whispered words and fuzzy pictures... Most times it’s been a blessing but sometimes it’s been a curse, the most amazing thing for me is that I’ve been able to hold on to my gift no matter what's happened in life and it always bears repeating, this gift is the reason I survived.

I super appreciate the very fact that along with my long-term, inexplicable ability, I also possess a beautiful instinct that‘s saved me on oh so many occasions, and within extraordinary moments of wonderful, moving magic............

Oh I could cry just recalling those visions... I know on many occasions all I had to do was close my eyes and focus on my world being alright, which brings me to the conclusion...

I want all of you who’ve managed to make it to the end of this post, is to remember... Thoughts Create Reality, and if a very small child, young person, young woman and now mature adult can accomplish that...  then all I further ask is for you to remember, you're in control of you and it’s you who makes choices...  So no matter what’s happened, no matter what you’ve been through, and no matter what point you are at in your life on this beautiful, mixed-up planet... I tenderly ask that you never give up and remember again, no matter how bad you might feel... if you have precious children, these will be their memories!   

Stay close beautiful people...