Muse Guide

Writer's tutorial entry; the identity of your POV

The identity of your POV 
This is simply talking about the narrator in basic terms. The POV is often the perspective of the narrator or sometimes just the writer. It is the writer’s work to attribute an identity to the narrator and also his perspective. The identity of a narrator can be of two types based on location. 
Within a story narrator: this is used in stories where the protagonists or someone else of notable importance narrates the story. More often, the first POV is best suited for this narration type because you can’t be there within a story and yet regard yourself as a he, or not even give your emotions adequate recognition. What happens eventually is in a longer piece for example, to stick to one “within the story POV” you will need to use multiple identities because there is hardly anyone in your novel that would be everywhere at the same time, especially if your story entails multiple plots and subplots. However another solution can yet be made and that is using multiple POV. Where the within the story narrator uses the first POV where he is involved and uses the third POV where he is not. However such a method can only be used in past tense narration. 
The outside the story narrator, this identity involves narrators that are not present in the story. This category are quite delicate because they do have subcategories. The outside the story narration is most suited for the third person narration than third person. The two sub-category under this is: 
The human narrator:- This narrators takes the form of an human, who is reporting a story that does not involve him. Let’s take for example I wish to tell the story of my best friend. I am human and will tell the story best to my knowledge and based on my judgement. I -as a human narrator- am meant to have limited knowledge as regard the story, though my judgement can be fully incorporated into the story, however I should not over use it as the readers might start to lose interest in a story if they feel the narrator is making too much assumptions and judgements. True life stories are often in this form, if the owner of the story relayed it to someone and the same person decided to relay it back, it becomes a human narrator and can only and always be written in third person perspective, except the writer decided to write in ghost mode for the owner of the real story hence he will write in the first POV hence the real owner of the story can claim the authorship of the state. However in fiction the case is different, there is no strict guideline and a writer might decide to make a tough choice of POV and give him a strange Identity. However it is the second sub-category that I will choose that most writers choose to use, simply because of it limitless ability to defend its knowledge of the story. 
Sovereign narrator:- This narrator often assume the position of some super human being with a sovereign knowledge about a story. Let’s assume the identity of our narrator is that of a dead spirit telling a story about when he was alive. The dead spirit would have hidden knowledge about the story that an ordinary human being wouldn’t. More often than not, a writer would not define his narrator identity. However our intuition would always point us to the direction of the identity of the narrator. In the number one category above, the writer cannot hide and would not hide the identity of a POV except he want to create a special effect of mystery. If not, a narrator that is also present in expected to be public and never hidden in anyways. 
This though is just my own personal classification and this classification helps me beyond, extensive or confusing options. I tend to understand the fact that a supreme narrator if revealed can create a necessary tension and mystery in a novel. In the coming instalment, I will talk about how to fully exploit the dynamic world of POV in your creative writings. Thank you very much for reading. 
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Writer's tutorial entry; the identity of your POV

The identity of your POV This is simply talking about the narrator in basic terms. The POV is often the perspective of the narrator or some...

Writer's tutorial entry; The power of the POVs

You and your POVs 
POVs are very important in creative writing, if you are already a creative writer you will be quite familiar with them. POVs are our point of views, as we all know, we have three point of view and this include the first POV, the Second POV and the third POV. Sometimes our choice of POV can actually influence the mood of any creative prose. Even sometimes multiple POV’s are essential to some pieces, essentially the longer creative proses like novels and novella. Of course multiple POVs is a rare occurrence in short stories and novelette. This is because, the primary essence of multiple POVs is mostly not available in this shorter pieces. I know you will begin to wonder why such essence is missing in such pieces. The reason behind this is the fact that most of the shorter pieces lack the complexities of multiple plots and subplots. When there exists multiple plots we often discover that multiple POVs might be needed especially because our POVs identity might seem human. In other to avoid complexity I need to break down this piece into three parts. The first part would involve weighing the strength and weaknesses of individual POVs and stressing how they impact the mood of your piece. The second part would be on the Identity of our POVs and how they differ across the three POVs. The third part would be about how we can maximize the potential of these POVs in our creative pieces especially longer pieces that needed multiple POVs. It would also further describe how the POVs can create special effects in our creative pieces. 
The first POV: this POV is the perspective of the writer in the first person pronoun, it is denoted with the usage of the “I” pronoun. This POV is having the special ability of creating a sense of adventure and immediacy in such piece it is used in. This POV is often used when a dominant protagonists is used in the piece. The protagonist would be the one telling us this story in his own point of view. This POV has the special strength of pin point emotional effect in pieces. A first POV creates this impression based on the fact that no one knows about ones feeling better than oneself. As such the emotional stability and status of the protagonist as relating to the plot is extensively delved into by the first POV. Hence certain story plots that involves emotional conflicts would have been narrated quite more impressively with the first POV than with the others. Also the first POV brings the reader much more closely to the story and gives them a sense of following the event than the full sense of distance- like a form of reportage- that the third POV gives. However the weakness of the first POV is the limitation of thoughts and ideas, especially since the readers are restricted to just the perspective of the writer. A first person POV creates a sensation which is oriented towards the narrator’s only and since there is just his thoughts, his believes and the immediacy in his narration, his judgement could sometimes be wrong, or he could be selfish in other ways. Hence he could absolutely not be trusted and hence be found wanting in some ways. 
The second POV is quite similar to the first as it even bring the reader much more closely to the story. However it is quite unrealistic to use this perspective throughout a story. The reason for this is the fact that guessing reader’s thoughts, opinions and feelings about key subjects would be of essential virtue in this POV and is a difficult task. Even if you’d be willing to gamble with them, you will easily lose the interests of the reader so far they start realising unrealistic sense of judgements attributed to them from your part. The second POV uses more of the ‘you’ pronoun. However I pronoun is often used too, but in combination with we and the ‘you’ pronoun too. The highlight of the second POV is the creation of a special effect which makes you feel like you are addressing the reader’s directly. Take the following excerpt for example. 
“I had already passed through the cave towards the light that shone from the eastern part, do you really think I am saved? Do you believe it is my way out? I believe we should go for it then, when I am saved we shall hold a party back at my house.” 
The second POV weakness is its vague sensation of prediction and lack of precision as you can’t strike precision with guessing readers perception on your story. 
The third POV is the easiest POV as it is a natural form of reportage as it gives room for a proper review of details before the story telling. Hence it is often written in past tense and with a third person pronoun like he or she. The third POV is easy to use and it often creates a sovereign identity. I will talk more about identity in POV in the next instalment. The third POV will essentially give a natural story telling flow and ability but would distant the readers from the story. 
Next I will be talking about identity in POV. Thanks for reading. 
Abd-afeez Abd-hamid
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Writer's tutorial entry; The power of the POVs

You and your POVs POVs are very important in creative writing, if you are already a creative writer you will be quite familiar with them. P...

Thesaurus entry; the raid

"Jump Hadiza, Wayanma will be proud," The vibrant voice of Haruna sternly pleaded. 
He stood from his chair and violently stepped backward turning suddenly to face the on rushing oriza. 
"You cannot ask her to jump, it doesn't feel right." A restless Haruna gave her a stern look. 
"How dare you question my authority, Audu is no more here, same as Wayanma and the rest. How would they have varnished if not for the failures of all of us and the lack of service of a few like her. She is to be blamed for Wayanma disappearance, she must redeem herself." 
"You should at least pity h..." 
"Haruna, Oriza, it's enough, I will jump." Hadiza wouldn't wait for their reply, she rapidly ascended the cliff and with a daring effort she leaped off it, but she missed the platform. She rammed into the under-log of the platform. She slid through its muslin floor and then she lost control, leading to her fall. The fall always being the result of failed attempts, the show of weakness. 
Everybody watched in horror as she fell off view and heard as she screamed off in horror. Oriza razed off towards Haruna. 
"You think Wayanma will forgive you for this if he ever returns, or his spirit if he fail to return. You think, now that you have the power you can abuse it, Or get drunk or mad over it? You just..." 
"Shut your mouth and listen, she decided her fate not me. I didn't force her to jump. I only told her that honour begot she does. May the gods bless her soul. She at least died in honour; unlike the lot of us cowards that stand alive." 
"Tell that to the kids she left behind. Audu is not yet dead and so I remain the women’s leader. I shall protect them from your irrational rulings." 
"Why are you two rumbling over a mere misfortune, the deed is done, how do we move forward?" The woman and man turn to look at the standing Abdulahi who just spoke. 
They both sat back on their seat, "Abdullahi, I need you to come with me, let's work out a plan. I have a feeling they will return, we must be ready. Oriza, prepare the stronger women for our return. The two men stepped into the elders' hurt. 
After a couple of hours the men returned, they were about briefing their men of their plan when they heard noises. From the corner in front of them appeared the rogues from the mad clan again. "They are back for the rest of us, fight we must, gather your weapons." As soon as Abdullahi shouted the command everybody rose to their feet. Even supposed leaders were trembling, the scare of the on rushing madness was destabilising enough. Soon the men returned with all sort of steel weapons, axes, cutlasses, swords and other steel edges. They clashed with the approaching men, blood for blood, and strength for strength. Soon the mad clan started gaining ground as Haruna's men began to fall. They started retreating seeking to seek refuge in the gloomy belly of Daura forest. However, they were startled when the mad clan stopped attacking, they started retreating and from the cliff side came screams of horror, and Hadiza was standing there with a league of others, indignant, vicious, and effectively spilling blood. 
"The gods favour us", she screamed as they slash through the retreating clowns that attacked them." 
They pursued, pressed and ensured they retrieve their men.
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Thesaurus entry; the raid

"Jump Hadiza, Wayanma will be proud," The vibrant voice of Haruna sternly pleaded. He stood from his chair and violently stepped ...

Poets corner entry; dusk and dawn upon a young desert

A barren prairie took the ultimate journey and left no seed. 
It carcass gazed upon a bare firmament- souless still. 
Its regret upon its spirit, a beauty now forfeited. 
Lush greenness faded amply into a brownish spree. 
Nature is now here, rooted with it's eerie blessing. 
The holy twin-moments visits in simultaneous spree, 
With cloaks and skins of gloomy tints yet of faded glints. 
Folklores preached, tales cursed still, that the gods freaked. 
Watching with hollow eyes a transition of ugly wits. 
Folklores words sounded right, tagging the gods as sick. 
A realm of darkness and that of sun-lit brightness. 
They are the kingdom of the moments. 
One time we shall close our eyes, glad that a moment is here. 
That he shall bless us with a transformed era. 
But many the times had we open our eyes into a familiar expanse. 
A cinnamon expanse that neither darkness nor brightness beautify. 
The moments only brought hopes, dragging them to a peak of height. 
Only had we open our eyes to see black made from brown. 
Or had we  gazed upon brown made from black. 
We'd wish for the firmament's mercy for some tears of joy. 
Yet it laid wasted, azure, with bright bareness. 
We summoned on the gods to please give her her spirit. 
The prairie we once cherished is now our misery. 
But always had we hold her memories in high spirits. 
Maybe one day she shall gain her spirit. 
And dusk and dawn upon this great land. 
Shall be moments to expect some new great forms.
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Poets corner entry; dusk and dawn upon a young desert

A barren prairie took the ultimate journey and left no seed. It carcass gazed upon a bare firmament- souless still. Its regret upon its sp...

Playing guitar better

When you first start playing guitar, you learn that there is a great number of skills and techniques you need to practice to reach your goals. As months and years go by and you practice these elements, you think you are making progress in your guitar playing yet you continue to freeze up when improvising, recording, or playing for others. Worst of all, “learning more things” doesn't seem to fix the problem - you continue to freeze up and make mistakes while playing guitar “when it really counts”. So why is it that your playing doesn't seem to be getting better despite the efforts you put into practicing guitar? The answer is that you are not able to play guitar fluently. What does this mean? It means that, while you may know many things about playing guitar, you are not able to combine and use these elements easily in your guitar playing. 
The biggest reason this problem happens is because most guitar players practice something just to get it right ONCE and then they think they’re done, and want to move on and learn something new. This kills your ability to integrate and use all of your guitar skills fluently, which in turn kills your chances to become a great guitarist. This is similar to a student taking a test at school. Many students try to simply pass the test and they don’t try to actually learn the material. While they may end up passing, they forget everything as soon as the test is over. Don’t be the student whose only goal is to “pass”. Until you learn how to practice guitar effectively, you will never be able to master all aspects of your guitar playing.2 Types Of Guitar Players Who Almost Never Become Great Guitarists who most often fail to reach their goals (despite having the potential to do so) often fall into 2 groups. Guitarists in the first group are not concerned with mastering anything - they only want to learn new things all the time. Having this mind set holds back your guitar playing due to lack of integration of your musical skills (more on this below). Guitarists in the second group are “perfectionists”- they focus on absolute mastery of every individual element of their guitar playing and are afraid to move on to practice something else until the previous item has been mastered. Fact is, you CANNOT master any musical skill in isolation (I explain why in this video about the best way to learn guitar). If you try doing this, at best you will only end up with pieces of musical knowledge that you can’t truly use. Most likely you will give up out of frustration when you realize how much time you are spending trying to master things in isolation (and never getting anywhere).Now that you know what does NOT work, here is the process of practicing that ALL great guitar players go through on their way to true musical mastery of any new skill: 
1.  Begin learning the new skill in isolation to learn it on a basic level, without worrying about application or fluency yet. Most guitar players do this, but they end up spending too much of their practice time on this step and never do the following steps. 
2.  Practice applying the skill you learned in step 1. To practice this, you need to recreate a real-life musical scenario. For example: after you learn a new arpeggio shape, apply it in soloing over backing tracks- creating many guitar phrases that include this new arpeggio. 
3.  Integrate this new skill into all the other aspects of your guitar playing. This is the biggest thing that will make or break your guitar playing fluency. You can work on integration by focusing on several skills at a time and practicing them together. There are hundreds of ways you can do this. For example: ascend an arpeggio using sweep picking and come back down through a scale sequence, or find 10-20 different ways to play the same arpeggio on guitar (integrating the arpeggio with your fret board visualization skills) or add other notes to the arpeggio to achieve a new sound. Other examples of integration could include combining rhythm guitar with lead guitar phrases, or combining string skipping and 2hand tapping, while soloing over a chord progression that changes keys. The possibilities are endless…No matter your overall skill level as a guitarist, you MUST practice integrating your skills together to truly reach your musical potential. Lack of integration is one of the most common problems that guitarists at intermediate level and above suffer from and is one of the most important areas I work on with my online guitar students to help them become awesome musicians quickly. 
4.  Review and refine your new skill. This means that you go back to step 1 and again practice your new skill in isolation, having acquired deeper understanding of what elements of the skill still need to be improved (from applying and integrating it in steps 2 and 3). Then move on to applying the skill in more new contexts and integrating it with other skills/techniques until you are back to step 4 - review and refine. Going through this cycle will help you make giant leaps towards guitar playing fluency. WARNING: you must avoid falling into the “perfectionist” trap of staying at each step for too long. You must also avoid skipping some of the phases just to learn more new things on a surface level that you never truly master. Instead, you should:*.Rotate your exercises when you practice guitar, so that different aspects of your guitar playing are in different phases of mastery at any given time. This will keep your rate of progress very high. To do this right, you need to have the very best and most efficient guitar practice schedules customized specifically for you.*.Work with a master guitar teacher who knows how to pace the flow of new content (so that you never get stuck trying to master any one thing for too long) and who also doesn’t constantly bombard you with new material. *.Understand that getting better at guitar is not a linear process. Instead, your guitar playing fluency is a by-product of the overlap in the 4 areas of guitar playing mastery (isolation practice, application, integration and review). When there is little/no overlap in the 4 areas of musical mastery (as is the case for most guitarists), your level of guitar playing fluency will be minimal - with a huge amount of potential left untapped. Observe the diagram below: Your goal is to maximize the overlap between the 4 areas in the diagram above, so they all reinforce each other and make it possible for you to achieve the highest levels of guitar playing fluency possible. Like this: Now that you know how and why to focus on fluency of your guitar playing, take a few minutes to assess how close you currently are to reaching your musical goals. 
This article is courtesy Tom Hess 

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Playing guitar better

When you first start playing guitar, you learn that there is a great number of skills and techniques you need to practice to reach your goal...

Poet's corner entry: unwritten

Inks of nothingness upon a paper, 
Several minds yelled in whispers. 
I was mistaken for mockery forged in absolute silence. 
Never to be heard, lost to the existence called knowledge. 
This ribbon is black in this darkness. 
It dangles below a simple thread. 
A mysterious veil is ushered into the atmosphere, 
Human sight became useless, mother light just left. 
And we wait unto the procurement of a pronouncement, 
From the mouth of a clueless, 
Our orator with spiritual blindness. 
Ours is not a story, 
We are ordained victims, 
Preached to in sparkling lies and deceits, 
The fake priests read scriptures of devilish pages, 
And we listened, twitching our ears in unison. 
Could lies form music? 
Wondrous is that insanity, 
Which our ears got webbed in. 
Seeming like it's got a vibrant fantasy, 
Where dreams got brimmed with reality, 
Spilling a fluid of fulfilment, 
That moisten the ugly faces of waiting enemies. 
I seek words of wisdom, 
To tell me that, which lurks beyond sight. 
I fantasize colourful insights, 
Realms of fairy delights, 
With frenzy dusts of blazing tail lights. 
Pictures that grew feet of glue, 
Seek my heart to stick each foot. 
Into an hole that fancy beauty. 
And many a hole lay barren, 
Many feet found their foundations. 
Yet, a man will never revel satisfaction, 
Until its path is upon the end of the road. 
Always seeking supernatural, 
To be a tenant in its mansion of mystery. 
The universe might be vast, 
With endless shine and more darkness. 
Little is that known to science, 
There is limit to knowledge, 
Their is always that endpoint of nothingness, 
Much has been written, 
Yet; 
much more remains unwritten.
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Poet's corner entry: unwritten

Inks of nothingness upon a paper, Several minds yelled in whispers. I was mistaken for mockery forged in absolute silence. Never to be he...

Featured profile: J.V Jones

Featured profile entry; J.V Jones 
Julie Victoria Jones is one of my mentor, she was the first author to open my eyes to the wonder of the fantasy world. Her fantasy trilogy title “The book of words” had already been featured on this site. She was born in 1963 in Liverpool, England as the daughter of a pub owner, in her youth she worked as a bar tender and worked for a record label in Liverpool. She currently lives in San Diego, California, where she initially ran an export business and later occupied a position as marketing director. The current publishers of J.V Jones are tor books in the US and Orbit books in the UK. 
Her first novel “The baker’s boy, which was the first book in the book of words trilogy was published in 1995 and the follow up novels “a man betrayed” and “Master and fool” were completed in 1997. Her next work was a standalone novel which was titled the barbed coil. Her next work was a series titled “Sword of shadows”, which consists of five novels. However only four had been released yet and the remaining one is still work in progress. 
THE BOOK OF WORDS 
1 The baker’s boy (1995) 
2 A man betrayed (1996) 
3 Master and fool (1997)
A SWORD OF SHADOWS 
1 A Cavern of Black Ice (1999) 
2 A Fortress of Grey Ice (2002) 
3 A Sword from Red Ice (2007) 
4 Watcher of the Dead (2010) 
5 Endlords was supposed to be published 2015 but has been pushed back. 
I am personally only waiting for A sword of shadow to end before reading it. I’ve had reviews that portrayed this series as an even more intriguing series than the book of words series. 
Whenever the last book gets release, expect museguide to bring it to you. If you missed the book of words review on our site, kindly <a href="http://www.museguide.org/2015/05/featured-masterpiece-book-of-words.html">click here</a> to get it, with download links attached to it. 
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Featured profile: J.V Jones

Featured profile entry; J.V Jones Julie Victoria Jones is one of my mentor, she was the first author to open my eyes to the wonder of the f...

Featured masterpiece: The book of words trilogy

The book of words trilogy by bestselling author J.V Jones is a series of bestselling fantasy series that involve a young boy protagonist who was meant to fulfil a prophecy in the legendary book of words written by a wise man years ago. 
The first book in the series is titled the baker’s boy, in this book; the legendary baker’s boy (the protagonist) named Jack, was an apprentice in castle Harvard. However a strange incidence with burnt bread drove him out of the castle, and that started an adventure, which entwined him, the king’s wicked chancellor, Baralis and the daughter of a rich man Meliandra, who was betrothed to the prince of the kingdom. Jack was caught on the bad side of Baralis and he hence made himself the worst enemy in the kingdom. The first series ended at a point where many questions remained unanswered and many mysteries hanged in the air. The first book hence is such that would always fill the reader with a thirst for book two. 
The second book is titled master and fool and this sequel continues the quest of young jack who by now had discovered he is an extra ordinary human. However it was not easy as a quest as Baralis always stood the greater enemy and Meliandra the great burden. However, he stumbled upon a noble knight in this part, who helped him with this noble quest of his. The second part was even more interesting as the evil empire of the north kingdom was formed, masterminded by the evil genius Baralis. 
The third sequel which is the final book was titled “a man betrayed” it is a charming revelation as it revealed the true identity of jack, the knight, jack murder and the unravelling of the many other mysteries buried within the foundation of the book. The charming revelation was however not only the strength of this sequel as the quest of jack was eventually a 5 star. Aside of some impulsive sexual scenes and vulgar speaking men of certain scenes in the novel; the book is absolutely classic to me and I will give it a 5 star. You can check the link below to download a free e-book of the novel. 
<a href="http://www.datafilehost.com/d/01ca774d">The book of words trilogy</a>
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Featured masterpiece: The book of words trilogy

The book of words trilogy by bestselling author J.V Jones is a series of bestselling fantasy series that involve a young boy protagonist who...

Inspire your muse; my ultimate solution to creativity blocks

Inspire your muse; my ultimate solution to creativity blocks 
Help promote creativity by liking our Facebook page www.fb.com/museguide and following us on twitter @museguide 
Many a times when we sit down at those desks to write those scripts, or paint those pictures or create our fancy art wares; we’d discover that ideas for the new work might be shortcoming. Then we’d find ourselves cycling a loop that involves; doing less than we know we can do, to doing clumsy and unimaginable mistakes, to not even knowing what to do at all. These kind of situations where by we find ourselves short of our creative sparks are known as creativity blocks. Writers are more familiar with it and to them it is called writer’s block. As we all know, the centre of all creative activities is the brain. During writer’s block it is the cognitive regions of our brains that is stressed. This region however can be invigorated to work us through our pending work of creativity. To do this, I’ve devised two formulas; 
Is to re-invigorate your entire system. (Put it out of its stress misery) 
Give your brain a structural nudge to repair wearing out parts. 
As we all know that the brain do not work alone but is connected to our limbs which now directly carry out most of our tasks. As I type this article for example, it is my hands that type not the brain, the brain only tells it what to do. However imagine, if I am physically exhausted and my brain at that moment stumble upon this article am writing, how willing do you think I’d write it at that very moment? Not writing at that moment however means I’m exposing myself to that risk of forgetting vital points my brain stumbled upon earlier. It might not even be points, it might even be the writing style I wish to adopt or a structure I need to test, and by the time I wish to write it later my brain might just skip them. So obviously I’ve reiterated an importance in the role of our motor systems (the limbs) in our creative activities. 
To invigorate your system I’d recommend a cup of premium fruit juice (Orange preferably). Why I recommend this is that fact that the fruit is packed with extra vitamin c which is a natural anti-oxidant. The stressed body cells would have released tons of free radical molecules which upon accumulating in the system causes specific cellular/tissue damages and hence fatiguing such tissue and cells and their specific systems and eventually the whole body. Now the vitamin c will help cast away these trouble-making free radicals. 
	I recommended juice because it also has free sugars as fructose and sometimes sucrose, since the brain is a sugar scavenger- a glutton that consumes 25% of the total blood sugar, then the juice would be able to refuel the brain cells and body cells easily. Juice also because, it will help replenish the body water and electrolytes and hence completing a total get at reinvigoration. 
Now the psychological aspect, the juice as a matter of fact will help relaxation and brain storming if it were to be mildly chilled. This is due to a creation of a sense of comfort and relaxation, as our own brain would have felt everything is alright and we would find it very easy to push it to the realisation of the day’s creative and mental tasks. 
For the second step I’d recommend cod liver oil capsules or the pear fruit, why I recommend these two is the fact that the active structures in the brain which partake in active transfer of information as impulses in the brain and the exchange of nutrients between the brain cells and the blood are all dependent on the omega3 fatty acids present in this two products. The structures include the myelin sheath, then the blood brain barrier (BBB) respectively. 
The two will ensure damaged myelin sheath is amply repaired and revamped and so also the BBB, this will ensure an incredible efficiency across the brain, down to the central nervous system and then to our sensory and motor systems. All of these systems are essential parts of our muse and such revamping ensures a smooth and efficiently working muse. 
Having taken your juice and probably swallowed that one gel capsule of cod liver oil, you yourself will testify to the magic this is going to perform as a riddance of that creativity block is guaranteed. Note if it does not work an instant magic, please take a nap and when you wake return to that desk to feel its magic. Just endeavour to sip the remaining juice while you work. Remember to share this article with your friends because you might never know how it can help them with finishing those creative works they have abandoned due to recurrent blocks. Thank you very much for reading. 
Abd-afeez
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Inspire your muse; my ultimate solution to creativity blocks

Inspire your muse; my ultimate solution to creativity blocks Help promote creativity by liking our Facebook page www.fb.com/museguide and f...

Poets' corner entry; Two

Two.. 
.. 
I wonder what's the truth 
about my sides that seems two 
one is witty, the other was a fool 
one was pushing to sell my soul through 
to the fiery limbs, that flocks with the cruel 
a shield against gale; my plumages are two 
It will save my doomsday; my peril in full 
with a fame to lead me amidst that libel's brook 
one that wallows in shame; shamble's pool 
Its claws are ill-smooth, and are ready to pull. 
above this I soared, higher before its look. 
. . 
The other side of me open his book 
skimmed across lines, reading loud and through: 
the story of how Messiah conquered the Jews. 
the strife that occurred in Constantinople 
Paris discovered Achilles heel and caused his doom. 
Joseph triumphed against his brethren too. 
Oh!  My alter ego is a motivator (maybe a fool) 
He wants my vigil done without holy ghost, coup! 
Without mountain of fire, foes will go down, stoop! 
For me to conjugate success like it's my boo. 
. . 
Hmm! Phew! Who?! 
huh! Sorry, which among the two 
Ideas, seems cynical? Both, shoo! 
Will it fill my wardrobe and lace my shoe?. 
One, admonished to rush and take it crude. 
so one for me will from mouth pour the dough through 
Affluent me dungs, my rich anus of dollars poo. 
Another me say: Gently, take it cool 
if you push for glory, honour's root will pull. 
So mean, human will blame you as a fool. 
... 
~wizardcalidad™|2015~
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Poets' corner entry; Two

Two.. .. I wonder what's the truth about my sides that seems two one is witty, the other was a fool one was pushing to sell my soul...

Scenerymania entry; wits from the dark 5

Wits from the dark 5 
The recent incidence between Tolu and Jibola had casted doubts about the realisation of the plan that was seemingly on a 100% path to success: it now throttle upon the dirty path of futility. Tolu had called me yesterday night after a long moment of silence. I remember her actual words. 
“I really need to see you tomorrow, some serious issues came up.” 
I began to wonder what kind of issues could transform Tolu’s voice to that terrible status of being husky. I spent the next couple of hour anticipating what the on knocking lunch hold in stock for me. The time seemed to read my mind as it hastened and lunch time happened sooner than anticipated. 
It was a sunny afternoon and the cool breeze of the air conditioned room was such a comfort as 
Tolu and I talked over our lunch. Tolu had been very emotional that afternoon stressing how stunned she was at Jibola’s seriousness so far. My fear was slowly getting affirmed. After her deep story wrapped around convincing me to believe in her reasons for her shortcomings as regard how initial plans. I had expected Jibola’s attitude to have been her strength. However who would blame a single lady like Tolu if she found sincerity in the company of Jibola? Such company is that she would never throw away with levity. We haven’t exchanged words in over five minutes. I eventually broke the silence. 
“The moral of this your whole story is that I should expect no information from you?” 
“That is not what I said, however I needed to tell you so that you won’t be disappointed if I held back certain information. I would, like I reiterated, not risk anything that could wreck this dream relationship I found with Jibola. As a friend Dare, you were not able to open up to me as to the reasons why you need such information and I believe we’ve come too long a way for you not to trust me on such issues.” 
I was lost for words, it dawned on me that pushing Tolu further might even lead her to opening up to Jibola and the only reason she’s said nothing was simply because of our strong bond of friendship. I also believe she knew breaking such news to Jibola might yet wreck the relationship she tries so to protect. I left her an angry and frustrated man, the whole issue was compounded by the fact office work resumes the next day and I would hence have little time for my quest. 
I reached work the next day a bit gloomy, I had only spent two minutes in my office when director James called me. I went to his office trying to force as enough spark to my mood as I could. I met him in the middle of a morning tea. He offered me a sit. 
“James how was the leave?” 
“it was fine sir?” 
“I called you to this office because something came up after you left.” 
“Hope it wasn’t something terrible sir?” 
“It was indeed terrible and sorrowful too.” 
“I involves that incidence that happened to you that almost took your life.” I was dazed by that revelation. 
“Sir what have you had about that incidence?” 
“I used to have a school son and I’ve been wondering about his where bout until I heard he died during that raid on you?” 
“I am very sorry about that sir, Oga I don’t suppose your son in law would be a criminal sir, why was he among that gang that night?” 
“All I know is Dare is a good man and would never been a true part of the gang, maybe he just ran into trouble?” 
“Did you say dare sir?” 
“Yes, Dare.” 
I couldn’t believe my ears, how come Dr James knew Dare? “Mr James, that was the man that saved my life that day,” I said. 
To be continued 
Abd-afeez 
Check the scenrymania section for previous posts.
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Scenerymania entry; wits from the dark 5

Wits from the dark 5 The recent incidence between Tolu and Jibola had casted doubts about the realisation of the plan that was seemingly on...

Wits from the dark 4

It’s been another week gone and I am yet to hear from Tolu. She was meant to give me regular updates. Even if there were no developments, I was meant to be yet informed, so I’d be aware of when further steps needed to be taken. However the four days’ silence was beginning to get on my nerve. It was strictly out of the rules for me to call Tolu, but damn it, she created this eerie situation, after all I created the rules myself. So I picked my phone to call Tolu, the phone rang for some times and there was yet no response. I waited for half an hour again and called yet no response, then I waited for an hour again and called and that was when the smooth gliding voice of Jibola responded; and instead of hello what I heard was “Buddy, I know everything, you are such a motherfucker, let us correct everything meet me at the same restaurant tomorrow for lunch, same time. 
I couldn’t sleep for the whole night, couldn’t believe Tolu would betray me like that. After all I was paying her well. I had to figure out what response to give Tolu, after all I didn’t tell Tolu specific details, she only knows I need her to get some information for me, and why I need to get them I didn’t tell her. The night felt endless, I rolled hundreds of times but nothing came up, don’t even know what to tell Jibola. 
I woke up very early the next morning to see my girlfriend, her name is Temitope. Temitope is a curvy short girl with fair skin and pretty face. She had the most delightful of smile and she has this charming comfort about her character. I had already called her to inform her of my visit, she in turn had prepared my favourite food of pounded yam and vegetable soup. I got there quite early so I won’t delay her too much as Tuesday was not her free day. She welcomed me with her usual thrilling smile and then her tender hug. She ushered me into her room and then to the pounded yam meal. She insisted breakfast first before talk. I was barely able to eat past half my normal ration as Jibola issue heaved solely on my mind. I was glad she didn’t complain as she already knew my mood was gloomy. After that shabby meal we went to the sitting room where we had extensive talks, it was there I updated Temitope a 100% and asked for her opinion. Temitope advised me to tell him half the truth, that I should tell him I truly handed Tolu such shady errantry, that I should however twist my motive, that Jibola should never know how we are to each other for now. Jibola might seem a friend, however if his father should know about my true identity, he could end up being a fatal enemy. So I listened to my baby’s advice, and it held an earnest wisdom and is a safe haven for comfort. I left Temitope’s a happy man, most delighted because of the lucky man I was. I didn’t just date beauty, I dated wisdom as well. I soon got home and had a deserved rest. I woke around past 11 and set to prepare for the important lunch. 
I was late, so unlike me, Jibola was already seated at the table, I took a quick glance at his eyes and it felt it sparked fire. He welcomed me rashly but yet still warmly. After I was seated he told me he already ordered; “while we await the waitress I want you to explain yourself and please don’t pretend; am talking about Tolu. My heart beat paced, I didn’t know what to say, several thoughts raced through my mind, where should I start with Jibola? I was still in my subtle trance when Jibola voice impacted my ears again. “Are you just going to sit there and stare dear friend or you will tell me where on earth you got that idea for the prank you played on me? Right about then Tolu walked in, she was cloaked in a bright green gown that flowed freely to just above her ankle. 
She got to our table, drew out her chair and they both busted into a frenetic laugher. I was so shocked and confused. 
“Buddy just messing with your head, she told me how you hooked us up and am very grateful about that. In fact, Dare, you are a friend indeed, I will never forget what you’ve done for me because I just found that woman.” 
Tolu raised her fingers and waved it at me, “he proposed to me, she said with broad smile across her face.” 
As both of them shared their good news, a sudden gloom extended its cloak of glue across my heart, hasn’t my lively ferry of plan found a hole in its under belly? Is my fancy ferry of plan not sinking heavily down the river of reality? I was blank and lost. 
To be continued 
If you missed the previous parts, please check previous scenerymania posts. 
Abd-afeez
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Wits from the dark 4

It’s been another week gone and I am yet to hear from Tolu. She was meant to give me regular updates. Even if there were no developments, I ...

The missing

Please help us promote creativity by liking our page 
And visiting our website www.museguide.org for more updates. 
The Missing By Brian Doyle 
There it is again in the newspaper this morning, on the radio, murmuring from the television, in bold type on the glowing screen in your hand: the haunted, fraught, awful phrase “the missing”. But it is wrong. It is inaccurate. 
There are no missing persons. No one is actually missing. They are just not where you thought they were, where they were expected to be, where they usually are, where they were when last you looked, where they always are, unless something is wrong, usually something small, but not this time, not this time. But they are not missing. They are right there, under the wreckage, the detritus, the crumbled infrastructure, the fallen highway, and the shivered ruins. They are sprawled, supine, curled, crumpled, battered, bent, and broken. Shockingly often they seem serene. Very often they seem sound asleep under their masks of dust and chalk and riven stone. 
They are not missing, though: only unfound. In a day or five or 10 they will be uncovered, discovered. Pulled from, hauled from. The towers collapsed, the earthquake rumbled, the tornado tore, the battle burst like a boil, the hurricane lashed and flooded. Words lose their meaning in the roaring. Words are shredded. Words are whipped by the terrible wind. She should be coming through the back door just about now, rude and grumpy, peevish and peckish, as her grandfather would say, he loves those words, peevish and puckish and peckish, he has often draped those words on her, wrapped them about her testy perfect face like a scarf or a shroud, and the dog as usual is listening for the faintest possible scuffle and skitter of her feet in the gravel at the top of the hill, and the doorknob is hungry for her hand, but now the door will starve for that hand for the rest of its days, for she is among the missing, the missing who are not missing, but only flailed, felled, fallen. Their souls have fled their bodies. Who they were no longer abides in what they were. Who they were is loosed and lost. Now when you say her name you are in the past tense, in the tense past. It used to be that her name went with her like a handle or a shadow and now it is without, unattached, whirled in the wind. The dog waited by the door for more than four hours, despite every instruction and command to abandon his post. Only long after darkness fell did he cease to stand and wait, to attend, to watch, to expect and savour the exquisite and idiosyncratic joy of her presence. 
Brian Doyle is the editor of Portland magazine and the author of numerous books, most recently the novel The Plover. 

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The missing

Please help us promote creativity by liking our page And visiting our website www.museguide.org for more updates. The Missing By Brian Doy...

Scenerymania entry; wits from the dark 3

Wits from the dark 3 
I left mummy with a promise to fulfil that which wale failed to; the recovery of our stolen properties from my uncle. I returned to my work place in Lagos with this new quest brimming my head. I had requested for a two weeks leave from work to help me recover from the recent armed robbery attack I was caught in. My boss was even merciful enough to give me a bonus 1 week since the incidence was even due to the risks involved in my type of work. That three weeks leave was a golden opportunity to kick start my newly found quest. Jibola had been my friend since my university years and he was in my department. Apart from being friends, we were reading mates and he was even a more comfortable company because he was from a rich background and more often than not, he would be the one to sponsor our several breakfasts, lunches and dinners together. I had only met his dad once and that was on his graduation day when they came visiting. I remembered he himself told me his name when he introduced himself and that rang bells quite often in recent days. 
I had put a call through to Jibola two days ago and he had told me that we should fix a lunch for tomorrow, this would be the first time we would see that year as it was February ending already. We’ve been both quite busy supposedly. Jibola graduated with second class upper in business admin and hence he handles some of his father’s businesses for him. The lunch date arrived sooner than I think. My dinner mate is a friend who happens to be a cousin too. He appeared to me as primly as he ever was, he had a sophisticated smell about him and he beamed a most charming smile. His total package of charms had rather appreciated than diminished. 
“Jibola, have you got a date after mine or today happens to be an international good looking day that I do not know about.” He let out his smile again and wrapped it up with a mild chortle. 
“Dare please, exactly what I’ve missed about you. Must you always be humorous?” 
“You call that humour? Is there a new dictionary meaning for that word?” 
We both laughed it off. The waitress appeared suddenly from nowhere, she was a pretty nubile and she had this voluptuous curves, it was even her voice that was most magical. We both had to whisper “wow”. She was quite aware of her effect on men and she simply smiled and continued. 
“What are your picks from the menu?” 
I ordered jollof rice and chicken while he ordered fried rice and chicken. We both watched her walk away with another captivating strides. 
“So Jibola you still fancy ladies like this?” I wasn’t wrong to attack him like that as during our university days he changed his girlfriend every year as he always find a better woman. Jibola was still single then and his reason was still that he is yet to find that special woman. 
In a couple of minute’s time she was back with our order and as she set our order and walked away she was the newest movie in town in the eyes of Jibola, in fact, he just found his world class cinema. After she eventually left and I had his attention back I opened up to him the reason behind our lunch date. That I want to propose a business for him. That since he knew I work as a senior officer at Nigerian immigration that I want to be selling him certain impounded products the likes of vehicles and electronics, that my boss just gave me a slot for such. I spent the next one hour trying to make him understand the details of the business its legitimacy and all. After that hour of extensive explanation, Dare told me that he doubt if he would be interested. However he was able to let me know that his dad also used to do heavy importation and that he would have been more interested, however he had heavily invested in an incoming shipping and hence he is low on capital. Then the pieces started to fall in place. 
If wale had followed them on the day they robbed and he worked for my uncle, then that son of a bitch called Jide. That means Jibola’s dad would be into smuggling. All I need is to know the nature of his bigger shipping and I can nail him easily for good. All I need is a good plan, who told you I didn’t have a perfect plan? 
A week later I was seated at the same restaurant for my lunch, however my partner was not Jibola but that nubile of a waitress. Her name is Tolu and she has been with me all along. She just informed me over lunch that Jibola is officially his boyfriend which of course is part of the plan. The best way to bend a man that love women, is to get to him through the woman he loves most. 
<a href="http://www.museguide.org/2015/05/scenerymania-entry-wits-from-dark-2.html">Click here</a> for part 2 
And <a href="http://www.museguide.org/2015/04/scenerymania-entry-wits-from-dark.html">here</a> for part 1 
To be continued 
Abd-afeez                               
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Scenerymania entry; wits from the dark 3

Wits from the dark 3 I left mummy with a promise to fulfil that which wale failed to; the recovery of our stolen properties from my uncle. ...

Scenerymania entry; wits from the dark 2

Wits from the shadows 2 
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Mum was at the veranda processing a bowl full of Egusi seeds. 
“Mum good afternoon,” mum stood up and gave me her electric smile. 
“Mummy am fine, am very fine.” 
“Yes I know you are, you are always fine my son.” 
She was still all over me trying to see any sign of blemishes. 
“Mum, there is a problem though, it’s exactly why I am here. I’d have been dead now if not for a strange hero. I need to...” 
“My son, what are you talking about? What happened?” 
“Mum, do you know any wale?” 
She looked at me with a flash of perplexity. 
“Wale shouldn’t have shown, it’s not yet time” 
I gave her a stern querulous stare. “Mum you need to start talking.” 
She sighed and gave me one lengthy stare. “My son, where is he now, he Can explain himself better.” 
“Mum, he is dead. The men that came to our house killed him, he died while saving me.” 
It took mum another five minutes to find her voice. “Wale shouldn’t have died, he was a good man.” 
“Mum, who is this Wale guy, mum you should just open up and stop putting me in this awful dark. Mum.” 
“My son, Wale is the only person who stood up for me after your father’s death. Today I will tell you a story I’ve never told you. When I married your father, we were happy, however we were having trouble with child bearing and after about 5 years your father’s family began to get really hostile. There about then, the business of your uncle’s elder brother began to take sour turns. I was regarded as nothing less a mountain of bad luck by your father’s family members and their hatred for me continued to heighten. My husband stood by me a 100% and he fell out of favour with his family, however since he was now the bread winner as the former bread winner of the family your father’s brother-we call him uncle Bolaji- had almost sank into nothingness. 
One fateful day, your uncle came to our house to request for a loan from your father, having invested a huge chunk of his savings on an importation deal, your father asked his brother to hold on for him that he didn’t have such money at that moment. However your uncle didn’t believe your father and he promised to show him why he was the elder one for his actions. A week later your father travelled and didn’t return. I knew your uncle had a hand in the event, however since I had no physical evidence, there was little I could do. 
A week after your father’s death, your uncle again came to me. Calling me a witch that I should leave his brother’s house that after all I didn’t have a child for him. Sooner had your uncle left had strange things began to happen in the house. From night mares to ghostly presence, and worse of all are the frightening voices that reverberated the house walls at nights. I was troubled and sleepless. I fasted, prayed I even made spiritual consultations but the horror in that house persisted. All through that ordeal, Wale was there, he was our house help and instead of leaving after your father’s death, he chose to stay. He even fasted and prayed with me, to me Dare used to say, “Oga is a good man, I won’t abandon you madam because of his death. Unknown to your father’s family, I was already pregnant with you. To them their son had no heir. One day one of those strange ghostly presence got me running down the stairs, I slipped along the way and was seriously injured. I almost lost you that day. After my discharge Wale warned me, that it is best I go into hiding with you because that is the best way to protect you. That your father’s family will because of their hatred for me choose not to believe that you are a legitimate son of your father and someone like your uncle will rather see you dead than be a threat to his greedy ambitions. 
Finally I left your father’s house and abandoned all his properties. Your uncle claimed all his properties and till now he his living large on it.” 
My mother paused, her eyes were already wet with tears. She looked at me passionately with her wet glistening eyes and smiled, a forced smile I know, but she managed to do it well. She continued her story. 
“Wale had called me when you were five, then he was already through with his HND with my help. He told me he wish to tell me that he would love to go and work for your uncle and that he would make sure he act as a spy for me and he would tell me anything he discovers that would help me with retrieving the stolen properties from me. Since then, he’d often return with one news or the other, however non he had brought was ever worthy enough to nail the man. However what I cannot explain is what Wale is doing with those men that wanted to kill you.” 
“Mum, what is that my uncle’s name?” 
“Chief Odunola Adebowale.” 
“What? Are you kidding me?” 
“Son, what is the problem?” 
“Mum, he is a friend’s dad.” 
“What?” My mum was surprised too. 
To be continued… In case you missed the first part <a href="http://www.museguide.org/2015/04/scenerymania-entry-wits-from-dark.html?m=0">click</a><a href="http://www.museguide.org/2015/04/scenerymania-entry-wits-from-dark.html?m=0"> here</a>
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Scenerymania entry; wits from the dark 2

Wits from the shadows 2 Help us promote creativity by sharing our posts. Mum was at the veranda processing a bowl full of Egusi seeds. “M...

Podcastle Reopen for submission

PodCastle.com has re-opened this month for submissions. Each week the editors publish short dark fantasy stories in podcast (audio) form. 
Editors Anna Schwind and Dave Thompson are open to reviewing: 
1) magical realism where the elements of magic are a common occurrence in a true-to-life setting; 
2) urban fantasy where stories unfold in a modern time period; 
3) slipstream where stories teeter between sci-fi and fantasy; and 
4) other dark fantasy sub-genres.
Word count is 2K to 6K words. 
Payment: 6 cents/word for original fiction (considered pro-rates for this genre); $100 flat rate for reprints, and $20 flat rate for flash fiction (stories under 2K words). Review previous podcasts to familiarize yourself with story pacing, character development, and progression of a plot. <a href="http://podcastle.org/guidelines/">Read submission guidelines</a>
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Podcastle Reopen for submission

PodCastle.com has re-opened this month for submissions. Each week the editors publish short dark fantasy stories in podcast (audio) form. E...

Poets corner entry; Flower-full

This an old poem i wrote to honour our very colourful world. 
Flower-full
In unison-uniformity yay! 
On pergony peonies are portrayed. 
Low-below and high above, 
Sprig matures and foliage uncoils,
Say "behold, my rose shall be hold", 
Sniffle my friend, new aura unfolds. 
Hyacinth pearls, Rosemary petals; 
Colourful stands, lovely fragrance.
In dawn gloom blue is riddled, 
From overcast sky, blue rays shoot; 
This is due, to the loose cloud ripples; 
To put a shine on the new spring gloom.
Abd-afeez
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Poets corner entry; Flower-full

This an old poem i wrote to honour our very colourful world. Flower-full In unison-uniformity yay! On pergony peonies are portrayed. Low...

writer's resource entry; all punctuation guide

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Please, help us promoting creativity by liking our page and sharing our posts. 
Today, i will be sharing a resource that feature a web library on a total guide on punctuation. punctuation is very vital to writers, as meaning of sentences can be amply altered by varying the punctuations in such sentences. A good example follows. 
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">
An English professor wrote the words:  "A woman without her man is nothing" on the board and asked his students to punctuate it correctly.  All of the males in the class wrote:  "A woman, without her man, is nothing."   </div>
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All the females in the class wrote:   "A woman: without her, man is nothing."  ...Punctuation is powerful!...</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
So, what are you waiting for? <a href="http://www.libraryonline.com/default.asp?pID=29" target="_blank">click here</a> to access this wonderful resource.</div>
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writer's resource entry; all punctuation guide

Please, help us promoting creativity by liking our page and sharing our posts. Today, i will be sharing a resource that feature a web li...

Scenerymania entry; wits from the dark

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Please help us promote creativity by liking our facebookpage and always remember to visit www.museguide.org for the latest news, tutorials and lots more for all creative ones.</div>
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I stood at the darker corner enjoying the tension building between us. Jide had been the one doing the talking since, all I did was listen patiently to his endless rants. Though it was true I held most of the blame, I could have just let the consignment slip through easily, especially with the mention of the dare devil Jide’s name, however I was on strict instruction. As a senior officer at the customs, I hardly get field duties as the office works on my desk were ample enough to keep my butt glued to my office’s leather chair. That fateful morning, director James had requested for my presence at that particular spot, because he had a tip that a sponsored consignment would be smuggled through and that the regular presence on that post were unreliable as they could have been adequately bribed to let the consignment slip pass.  Three days after I seized Jide’s consignment, here I am at the horrible presence of Jide, two of his fierce looking men stood beside him and a couple others watched the door and others unknown; hidden, by the car I suppose. I was jeered back to reality by the last sentence from Jide, “make it quick and silent”. 
I recalled the murderous look on those men, the death notice in their steps and the killing edges about them. I felt nausea form from my stomach, I didn't keep it back, it was as if, it was my fear that was coming out. As I emptied the smelly, slimy content of my gut on to the floor. I noticed the men staggered back at the smell and look of the vomit. Somehow my regurgitation had cast my wits away from the gloomy walls of my meek heart that caged it. It was my turn to utilise my enemy’s tactics against them-to launch a quick and silent counter attack on them. I reached for the iron wrench just by the window, I rammed it against the first's skull, I heard a loud creak and then a louder thud, and before the second could respond I rammed it against his jaw, in an upper cut direction. A loud moan escaped from his mouth as his lifeless body dropped into the ground.  Jide seeing an imminent danger ran outside asking the two doorway guards to strike me down. One of the men held a gun, I flinched, the whole wits I gathered found a sudden porous escape route as I stood motionless awaiting my death sentence. The man with the gun approached me, he raised his gun aimed and squeezed, I heard a body fall, I knew instantly what was wrong, my body had fell but my zealous spirit was standing, unwilling to fall with the body. However it was the second shot that spoke reality. It was too real a sound for a spirit’s feeble ears, I swivelled my head to examine my environment. I found the bodies of the third guy and Jide on the ground, there were three more shots and two other guards fell and then my hero was there too, slowly sinking to the ground, I was hardly able to thank him for saving me. He stretched his hand reaching desperately for me. He was saying some words, I neared him “Dare, Dare, tell your mum, tell her that wale was here, say…….saii……” 
His eyes drooped to nothingness, he was dead. 
A week later, as I prepared for visiting mummy back in our home, I began to wonder what story mummy will tell me regarding my dead hero. 
To be continued…… 
Abd-afeez Abd-hamid 
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Scenerymania entry; wits from the dark

Please help us promote creativity by liking our facebookpage and always remember to visit www.museguide.org for the latest news, tutorials...

A moment with scot

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If there was a camera, it would only show an apple. 
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An apple, in the hand of skinny white kid 
who looks too young to be in high school, that 
gets eaten.  The camera will show how hi 
teeth digging into its yellow sides, bringing the 
piece into his mouth. The camera will spend 
maybe five minutes documenting his various 
lunch items and how he eats them, with upbeat 
punk music in the background. 
The kid- who I will now call Scott- suddenly 
looks down at his leg, on which there is a 
vibrating phone. He smiles, then picks it up to 
read the message.  He finishes reading it, then 
frowns even though he is glad his mother will 
drive him home that day. 
Scott looks straight ahead; there is a brick wall 
across from the stairs he is sitting on. The 
bricks aren't all red, with varying shades of 
orange, but it is still severely plain. He stares 
for a while, as the sight in front of him is only a 
method for him to be aware of his real-life self 
as his thoughts wander. In his view, he sees a 
girl. Red hair, much brighter tan the orange 
bricks behind her. She looks in his direction, 
then smiles and waves. Scott does the same 
but with more enthusiasm. His waving hand 
hits the leg of another girl coming down the 
stairs. This girl says something to the redhead 
and steps over his empty lunch bag. 
Swallowing, then looking down, he uses the 
grey steps as an awareness point and lets his 
mind walk up the steps and into a more 
stimulating place. 
The bell rings, signalling the beginning of sixth 
period, to which he stands up and leaves.  He 
doesn't go to his locker, his class or even the 
bathroom. Scott walks out of the front of the 
school, heading toward an address he found on 
Google Maps. About a block way, he starts to 
sweat-not from anxiety. He wonders what 
would happen if a cop saw him. He gasps as 
his fears come into reality when a cop car 
drives by. The car does not stop or slow down, 
however. Taking a deep breath, Scott 
continues on. 
When he finally gets the the address, he sits 
down on some steps in front of a parking 
garage. He looks up at its grey sides, then 
down at the black asphalt beneath it. He looks 
at an empty parking lot, then heads toward it. 
When he reaches the middle, he sits down, 
opens his backpack, and removes a box of 
chalk.  He takes out a piece of red chalk, 
orange, and white chalk. Taking the white, he 
runs in a straight line across the parking lot 
while dragging the chalk on the asphalt.  He 
changes position and does this again. Then 
again. Then again. And after several more 
times, he stops to catch his breath. The 
camera zooms out to show that he wrote 
"EVERYTHING" on the asphalt. He takes the 
red and orange pieces-both in his hands at the 
same time, creating a double line whenever he 
wrote with them. Pressing them with all his 
might onto the asphalt, he makes a big curvy 
"S". He makes four more letters, which 
together read "SUCKS". He drops the chalk 
from his shaking hands and stares at the 
incomprehensible lines. 
After several minutes of admiring his work, he 
runs-sprinting-toward the parking structure. 
He runs to the elevator that takes him to the 
tenth floor. Going to the edge of the structured 
lot, he looks down on the chalk-covered lot. 
After quickly looking away, he looks back 
again, then charges for the stairs. He goes as 
fast as he possibly can down the stairs until he 
gets to his lot again. Scott pulls his jacket off 
and throws it on the ground. He steps on the 
jacket and rubs it all over the red and orange 
chalk until it is all embedded on his jacket and 
off the ground. Grabbing the box of chalk, he 
picks blue and begins writing again. This time, 
there are more letters.  He finishes the words 
and the chalk then runs up the stairs to the 
twelfth floor-the highest he can go. Smiling, he 
looks at the parking lot that is only empty of 
cars. It reads "EVERYTHING IS BEAUTIFUL". 
Scott looks down at his watch on his way back 
down, seeing that he has enough time for his 
mother to give him a ride home.</div>

A moment with scot

If there was a camera, it would only show an apple. An apple, in the hand of skinny white kid who looks too young to be in high school,...