Chamomile

July 18, 2016July 18, 2016 ~ Byungafallgren ~ 2 Comments

A few years ago, I planted a little seedling of chamomile in the back of my house. Now, they are everywhere in the back yard. All I did was occasionally running the sprinkler.

There are two kinds of this plant. German chamomile that is an annual, Roman chamomile that is a perennial. The German chamomile is the one usually used in tea and herbal medicines. A tea made from fresh chamomile flower tastes much better than commercial one that you can buy in stores.

Unfortunately, mine is Roman chamomile, the perennial one, so I can’t make tea out of the plants. But the little daisy-like flowers are spectacular from June to July and the bloom lasts for weeks.

The Abducted Boy

July 16, 2016August 31, 2016 ~ Byungafallgren ~ Leave a comment

I woke to find myself lying in a glass case on a table. A small machine-like thing was on the table near me from which several cords were extended to be attached to my head and arms. I glanced around the room with nothing else but white walls. What is this freaking place? I tried to sit up but the cords kept me down. As I began to pull them off from me, a young man in a purple gown came in the room.

“Good morning!” he said.

“Where am I?” I asked, studying his pale, emotionless face.

“You are on our planet, Makumba. Welcome.”

“Where are my friends?”

“They are in the other room.”

“I need to see them.” I pulled the cords from my head and arm.

“Stop that!” He grabbed my hand. “It’ll kill you.”

Sudden dizziness knocked me down. As he reconnected the cords to me the dizziness stopped. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

–From THE SPACE HERMITS

Mediocre Poet

July 13, 2016July 17, 2016 ~ Byungafallgren ~ 2 Comments

Your words may be dry as an old man’s danders
But they resonate like water drops in a deep cavern,
For they are expressed with passion
Unlike a hypocrite’s words in flash fashion

Your mediocre words are ripples
On a calm lake, for they speak truly
Superior than greedy, dishonest tongue
Of a hoity-poity critic who calls you idiot

Don’t shrink in embarrassment by the
Self-inviting reviewer’s mordacious tongue
Write more ordinary poems
Till the vocabulary blooms

(Note: Poems and blooms don’t rhyme. I’d call it false-rhyme because they sound somewhat similar. 🙂 )

Thoughts on Critiques and Tense

July 11, 2016August 17, 2016 ~ Byungafallgren ~ 3 Comments

About book critiques: I would not trust critiques written on book covers. There are several types of critiques: self-opnionated ones; dishonest ones; sweet ones; trustworthy ones; plain laughable ones. So, I usually ignore them, and just dive into reading the book.

Which one is better, books written in present tense or past tense? Of course, regardless a book’s quality, it really depends on writers’ choice for his or her book. If a writer thinks that present tense is a better fit for his or her book, it should be written in present tense, or vice versa.

Usually I like books written in past tense. Books written in present tense, however, give you a sense of immediateness of the story, which is why some writers choose the method for her or his book. When I want present tense for my book I would only use it for the first paragraph or first chapter, and then switch to the past tense for the rest of the story.

The Survivors

July 11, 2016August 31, 2016 ~ Byungafallgren ~ Leave a comment

We returned to our shelters that afternoon. “I’m afraid it’ll take a long time for us to go home,” said Camilla, plopping down on the grass mattress.

“Uh, we may not even be able to go home!” Lyle said grimly.

“We must do whatever it takes to go home,” I said.

That same evening, we were eating supper in our shelter when we noticed two, dark figures standing at the door, staring at us. “Aborigines!” Camilla said in a low voice. Just as we stood up to meet them in a civilized manner, they shot a foul-smelling mist into our shelter. Immediately we lost consciousness. –From Chapter One of THE SPACE HERMITS

These samples are from nine-page of the chapter. Upon rereading the story, I feel I could write it better now, craft-wise. Still, I love the story itself. (The post will be continued.)

The Droopy-Eared Creatures

July 11, 2016August 31, 2016 ~ Byungafallgren ~ 2 Comments

A distant voice startled us. We looked out the window. Fifty yards away, walking in a line between the trees were humanlike beings! Two short ones who were leading them were about five-foot tall, had gray skins and large droopy ears, like Basset hound dogs. “They must be aborigines!” I said.

When they got farther, we left the cabin and followed them, keeping safe a distance. Ten minutes later, they stopped at a clearing. Hiding in the tall grass, we watched some form a line. A short one with the droopy ears began to throw dark bags over their heads. Then he started shooting them with a rifle! The dead ones fell into a pit behind them. We sucked in our breaths, shocked.

The two short ones turned to go back in the way they came. We remained in the tall grass until it was safe to pursue them.

–From Chapter One of THE SPACE HERMITS

Who Cleaned the Crash Site?

July 9, 2016August 31, 2016 ~ Byungafallgren ~ 2 Comments

I was more worried about my dad and brother’s grave than the food. “I’ll run there now and check,” I said.

Arriving at the crash site, I gawked at the empty beach, stunned. The remnants of the crashed spaceship and the dead people were gone! I ran to the boulder where I had buried my dad and brother, and started digging. They were gone too! “What the hell…freaking thing happened?”I peeled my eyes to look for anything that had once belonged to the spaceship but could not find any. There was no evidence of the crash as if the accident never happened. Even the reek from the condemned ship was gone, and the air was ocean-smell-fresh. The animals couldn’t have done it. Excellent cleaning!

–From Chapter One of THE SPACE HERMITS

Rain (my favorite childhood poem)

July 6, 2016July 12, 2016 ~ Byungafallgren ~ Leave a comment

I will go
To the pond
To draw circles
I will go
To the pond –Author’s name forgotten

As I grew older the rain became my alter ego. And the pond, the world I live in.
Regretfully, I drew circles that had no ripples. That’s okay. Who says I have to? After all, the roads I’ve taken for the destination are important too.

While trying and failing and trying again, I learned lessons and matured and still growing, calmly accepting reality. A wise man once said that we live in our desire rather than in our success.