Shortly after moving to California in 2014, I wrote a letter to my grandmother (with whom I've been penpals since I was 10) and I told her about my 4 day drive from Michigan to California (among other things). Once completed, I realized that I'd written a mini-memoir; a commentary on my traveling. It is now that I offer this memoir to you, written to my grandmother. HEADING WEST Originally my best friend Matt was supposed to accompany me on my drive across the country, that i
I studied French in college with the sole purpose to study abroad in France. I declared French as my minor, took one or two classes each semester, and finally in my last semester in college I had my chance. The program that I joined was more abbreviated than traditional study abroad programs, which usually last for several months. Mine lasted only six weeks during the summer of 2007. Leading up to my departure, I was elated and I could hardly contain myself. A
For the last year, I have considered myself a practicing minimalist. After having spent two weeks in Costa Rica in the winter of 2012, living out of a suitcase, I became overwhelmed by how much stuff I owned when I returned home. In the weeks following my return, I got rid of furniture, old CDs I never listened to, books that I would never read again, and DVDs that I hardly watched. Yes, that copy of “The Cable Guy” that I got over ten years ago and may have watched once had
THE SCARLET SAGES Since I was young, probably at least 7 years old, I've had a bit of wanderlust. I can remember vividly having emotional fits and complaining to my mom that there was no adventure in my life. True story. I'm sure the poor woman didn't know what to make of me. This bug, as it were, is what caused me to take advantage of opportunities for adventure in my life as they were presented, and in this case my first trip to Costa Rica.
In January of 2011, I went with
The demented tale of how I died and the manor house that became my bane began one late autumn day, not many years ago. On this ominous day of days I obliged the invitation of a not-too-well-known acquaintance and visited his country homestead near the small seaside community of Shicksalville. I admit that I was quite surprised and truthfully relieved when I noticed that I was not the only person that Marcus Donnelly had invited to his old family manor, Fort Geheimnis. I heard
I'm a huge fan of ritual and tradition. Not so much in my own life (though you'll find some), but in the observation of other cultures. This is why I was eager to try out going to a native sweat lodge at the urging of my good friend. Well, after going through it, we'll decide just how 'good' of a friend she really is. (jk, love you Casey)
First off, I'll paint you a picture of just how this day went. I think it adds to the effect. I woke up at 10:00am (because that's just w
Atlantean Legends: Queen Azmela of Atlantis and the Dark Pool Shortly after the disappearance of the Atlantean Queen Azmela in the Ampheres Mountains of Northern Atlantis, the Arch Priest of Poseidon made a voyage to Athens to consult Nikedemos, the Arch Priest of Zeus, about the matter. The thought of seeking advice had only occurred to him upon hearing the confession of the Queen’s daughter, Alexia, who had been with the Queen at the time of her vanishing. Truly, the girl
As odd as it may sound, Asylum Lake is a little autobiographical; much like Zombie Apocalypse. Weird, right? I mentioned shortly after writing Asylum Lake, that the setting is based off an actual nature preserve place here in Kalamazoo, Michigan called Asylum Lake (clever title, eh?). For those of you who live in town, but have never heard of it, it's near Drake Road and Parkview. Most of the property is owned by Western Michigan University. The paths that Nathan takes in the
Nathan was always drawn to this area with its meadow, its woods, and its lake. In winter, when the snow covered the paths and all within lay dormant, he would find himself missing the mysterious energy of the nature preserve known as Asylum Lake. By the waters edge, staring west toward the setting sun, he remembered his first few visits to these woods.
The labyrinth of trails was a joy to discover, as were the many different facets of nature the preserve embodied. There was
So, inspiration for "The Zombie Apocalypse" came from an incident at work when the power went out. There were only a handful of security lights on all around the hotel and it was down right creep-tastic. Several times during the two-hour span, I made the joke that it was the Zombie Apocalypse and for whatever reason, I started thinking about what I'd do if it actually was happening. Many of the scenes in the story came from those ruminations. The layout of the building that I
So, while I was working down at the hotel, the power went out. While the experience itself was rather uneventful (if not somewhat fun), I was inspired to write a funny short story about zombies because of it. I call it semi-autobiographical because various elements of the story are actually true, though most of it's my imagination. Except for the zombies. The zombie part actually did happen. It was rather horrible.
Disclaimer: All people, places, or events described in the f
When the God of the Sea forbade the use of the Eye of Poseidon and the Scepter of Ampheres, the priests at the Temple of Poseidon in Atlantis forged two sacred chests, which they called the Chests of the Sea in which to store the treasures. Upon their completion, Poseidon was pleased and he offered the Atlanteans solace. If any one were to use his treasures, they need only return them to the chests and their curse would be lifted. For this gift, the Atlanteans were grateful a
Back when I finished writing Eyes in Atlantis, I had an interim period where I decided to write several "Legends" based on the book. Indeed, for the novel I created some mythology and I thought it would be neat to see some of it written in its own story. Thus, the "Atlantean Legends" were born, being three total. I wrote them so that they don't give way any of the plot from the original novel, so if you haven't read it yet (and shame on you!) this won't ruin it for you.
I share with you a short story that I wrote in 2007, just before I graduated from college. This story follows the internal dialogue of two individuals, a mother and her son, as they prepare to see each other for the first time in almost two years.
This story is dedicated (as it was when I wrote it) to my mother, Roseann Givens.
One Year, Eleven Months, Two Weeks, and Two Days
Part One: Mother
It had been one year, eleven months, two weeks, and two days since she had las