Something Different. One Piece at a time.

The Legend of the (Book) Banshee

I was screaming at him as loud I could, my throat was raw and dry, and yet no sound came from my mouth. I felt like I was drowning in sand. I tried to move towards him, but my body wouldn’t move. I tried to lift my hands but they were pinned to my sides. I panicked, knowing all too well what kinds of monsters were lurking in the shadows. I took four deep breaths in an attempt to calm my nervous body. Tears and sweat streaked my face as I struggled to free myself from the paralysis.

“Please just run.” I was shocked when a whispered plea freed itself from my mouth. He looked up from the depths of the dark alley, and his eyes met mine with a somewhat quizzical lilt to them. The trash bags just to his left rustled, and he was gone with a shrill cry of my name.

“Aster!”

My body convulsed and shook. My eyes fluttered open and light peaked through. I blinked a few times everything was bright and foggy. I swept my hand over my face to brush the fog away. Holy shit, I could move again. I sat up and looked around, I was in my room!

“Aster?” I turned to see my younger sister, Peri with her brow furrowed at me. “Which one was it this time?”

I breathed in a deep, shuttering breath before answering. It was always hard to come out of a recurring dream, they always seemed so real, and they changed every time.

“The ally,” I whispered, testing out my vocal cords.

“You spoke this time,” she said in a matter of fact tone, this time her voice fell to match my whisper.

Keep writing? Boring? Lost? Thoughts?

I started Book Banshee many moons ago before I knew what I was getting myself into.

I wrote a back story to Book Banshee called “The Legend of the Banshee,” originally it started off to be a fun little way to share how the blog got its name. Except that fun and short back story turned into a monster that I don’t want to tame. I want to write this story for no other reason than to write it. I have written chapters upon chapters of this story in my head, on paper, on screen (I typed the words), but the one thing I have yet to do is to share them with you. I wanted to, but I didn’t.

I have to mom and yell at my kids to get into bed for the 9teenthump time tonight. I will BrB.

I haven’t shared this story with you yet. Hell, I haven’t even shared a blog post with you yet.

And this isn’t how any of this shit works!

I can’t just share all the books and expect great things for the authors I share if I cannot even dedicate a freaking few hours out of a day to post something real, or book related, or a little bit of both.

When I do write, I have been told I should write.

Ex:

“I have a bad relationship with my husband’s mistress, and I would love to get to know her better, he does love her a lot. I just want to be best friends with her, hang out and get at her while my husband is busy doing the same…

Sleep people, my husband’s bottom bitch is sleep. He can do it just about anywhere, and me, well I have to be ultra sick to the point of non-functional to get any at all. I want the sleep, I need it, I crave it. But that damn skank hates me for no good reason, and no shows on all of our appointments….

Duuuude I wonder if I can’t sleep because sleep is like an internet connection and all the sleep bandwidth is being hogged by my husband and kids.

Or maybe I should just fully commit to this vampiric lifestyle and resolve to never sleep again.”

I have many more ramblings to share, but for now I will leave it at only this.

 

 

 

 

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Annie

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