What is Reading, Fundamentally?

Author: R. Fast / Labels:

What is reading, anyway? Novels, comics, graphic novels, manga, e-books, audiobooks — which of these is reading these days? Are they all reading? Only some of them? What are your personal qualifications for something to be “reading” — why? If something isn’t reading, why not? Does it matter? Does it impact your desire to sample a source if you find out a premise you liked the sound of is in a format you don’t consider to be reading? Share your personal definition of reading, and how you came to have that stance.


Reading encompasses all of the above examples. To 'read' is to comprehend any collection of written words. I've come to know that reading everything and anything is the key to becoming a better writer. I thank my college English professors for this bit of wisdom.



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The Well, Part 2

Author: R. Fast / Labels:

I awoke to the sing song call of the morning birds. A soft breeze rustled my sheets as I stretched the sleep from my body. I couldn't remember every having opened my bedroom windows but I felt no sense of panic. I was calm, happy, and relaxed, ready to start my day anew. My previous day seemed so far away, yet so hauntingly close. I pushed the thought from my mind as the smell of coffee and cinnamon drifted up through my bedroom door. The thought of my mother entered my mind, she must be visiting, why else would I smell breakfast.

I pulled on my robe and headed down stairs hoping to great my mother, yet all that I could find was a full coffee pot and warm sticky rolls on the table. I felt a little uneasy, as I never new my coffee pot had an automatic feature, let alone me ordering breakfast as delivery. I feverishly checked all of the doors and windows and found nothing out of the ordinary. How odd.

I drank the coffee despite it's mysterious presence and ate a little of the warm sweet treat left by my mysterious visitor. Wasting enough time I realized I was going to be late for work and trudged my way to the car, dreading the usual stop and go of the morning rush. I climbed in and shut the door behind me, turned the ignition, and backed out of my driveway, careful not to hit anymore bikes. I had just shifted into drive when I remembered that I hadn't driven home that previous evening. I thrust the car into park and leapt from it in haste. Something very strange was going on, but not in an evil nor malevolent way, at least I didn't think.

I cautiously climbed back in and put the car back into gear, heading towards the interstate. The traffic was rather light and I noticed one one lane had been added on the left. Late night road construction? How very unlikely I was sure. In an almost frantic sense of panic I almost veered off the road as I remembered not bringing my briefcase. Yet low and behold it sat peacefully in the back seat, my rather clean looking report peaking out from inside.

I drove the rest of the way in shock. Not catching a single light nor meeting any form of congestion. It all seemed like a dream, good yet strange. I entered the office with almost five minutes to spare, a new record for me. By the look of things the construction and stopped and my boss had thoughtfully left a not excusing me from my project, what a relief. It seemed I had the morning free and, still being in shock, I decided to take the opportunity to relax and gather my thoughts.

I took the elevator down to the front lobby and walked about a block to a quaint little coffee shop I had always meant to visit but could never find the time. I ordered a coffee and a paper and sat in the back to avoid any passing glances. The news seemed rather unremarkable accept for the ad.

I had been looking for an original copy of an 18th century book that had once been in my grandparents attic and had been mistakenly sold at auction. There, in bold print at the bottom of the page, was the book I had spent so many sleepless nights searching for. I reached into my pocket for a piece of paper to write the number on. I pulled out a small square piece and unfolded it quickly. I began writing when I noticed that the numbers on the paper began matching up to the article next to the ad. 1, 14, 29, 34...it was then that I realized I was holding a lottery ticket. 35, 46 and finally, for the coup de grĂ¢ce, 52. I stared at the page, tempted to pinch myself, it must be a joke. A cruel joke fashioned by those evel imps that I worked with. I snatched up the paper and headed for the office ready to explode. I was angry, no, furious. What kind of idiot did they take me for?

I took the stairs this time, eying everyone I passed cautiously. I was waiting for that right moment, to confront their little ring leader face to face. I opened the door just when it happened.

"Jenkins. You're fired!" My arch nemesis was gathering his gear into a box with his head hung low. My boss stood behind him waving, what appeared to be, evidence to the Walter's scandal. Someone had been tipping the scales in their favor, and the truth had finally come out. I had suspected him for the longest time, but never thought he'd get caught. I turned and left quietly, opening the paper to look back at the numbers. How could it be a joke? Our company didn't have that kind of connections. I decided to test my faith and turn in the ticket. I walked back out into the warm morning air. It seemed a new day had begun. But just how long would this little good luck streak go on?

There was only one way to find out.

To be continued...

Unconscious Mutterings

Author: R. Fast / Labels:

1. Referral :: Doctor
~ I think of doctor because I've had many cases where I've needed a referral in order to get an appointment.

2. Indiana :: Jones
~ I saw the movie for my birthday. I loved it.

3. Foil :: Stop

4. Horizon :: Over

5. Event :: Shindig

6. Sailing :: Away

7. Footage :: Fabric

8. Sunday :: Brunch

9. Breathtaking :: View

10. Dude! :: Sweet!


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10 Movies I'm Excited to See

Author: R. Fast / Labels: ,

1. Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull

2. The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian

3. Sex and the City: The Movie

4. Kung Fu Panda

5. The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor

6. The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2

7. National Treasure 2

8. 10,000 B.C.

9. 27 Dresses

10. The Eye


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Feast #191

Author: R. Fast / Labels:

I know, I'm a little late, but...better late then never!


Appetizer

What is the nearest big city to your home?

Soup

On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being highest, how well do you keep secrets?

Salad

Describe your hair (color, texture, length).

Main Course

What kind of driver are you? Courteous? Aggressive? Slow?

Dessert

When was the last time you had a really bad week?



Appetizer

- Corpus Christi, TX

Soup

- 8

Salad

- Strawberry Blonde, Medium Length, layered, Thick, Soft

Main Course

- Both Courteous and Slow

Dessert

- Too recently actually...I have a collection of bad "hours" each day that eventually just equal up to bad weeks.



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The Witch Next Door (Part 5)

Author: R. Fast / Labels:


The setting of the sun had left the damp air cool, it brushed along the skin like soft hands. The lights of the old Sutton place had popped on the moment Eliza stepped of the LeBeaus front step. She could feel the energy of the place, it seemed as if it where breathing, coming and going at a slow rhythmic pace. The small grey tabby spotted her in the shadows and turned up the steps, disappearing into a gap in an open window. Eliza grasped the wand she carried in her skirt pocket. She had to be ready for whatever forces lurked within. With a deep breath she rapped on the front door, she could hear scuffling beyond and the sound of soft voices. The door came open with a slow squeak and a sweet voice and smiling face greeted her.

"I've been expecting you!" The voice came quickly and excitedly from the smaller woman in front of her. "When we visited this house via channel last week I sensed another presence. I told my husband at once that this was the place to be." The woman stepped aside and let Eliza enter the, already furnished, foyer. She slipped her cloak from her head and gazed about with interest.

"Well then. Pray tell, which channel did you visit on?" Eliza turned a speculative gaze upon the woman who, astonishingly, did not show any alarm what-so-ever.

"The moor," she said casually. "We've been moving around for years and finally decided to take up a residency. The other dimensions real estate agent highly recommended this area." The woman scooped up the small grey tabby and cuddled it close. "I hope sage didn't cause to much alarm. We've been trying to train her as a proper familiar for a couple years but she's much to free spirited." The look of concern on the woman's face startled her, but Eliza felt a sense of relief at finding out the source of the woman's inquest.

Eliza breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed into a hall chair. "Oh my! You must have thought we we're from the scourge. I'm so sorry, I should have introduced myself earlier, but we wanted to invite you over for tea." The woman had sat dawn next to her quietly. "I'm Rebeka Covven, and my husbands name is Ethan, I'm so very happy to finally meet you." She held out her hand to Eliza. They shook hands and chatted until the clock rang one. Eliza excused herself and headed home, glad to put this worry out of her mind. The townsfolk, on the other hand, would be another matter entirely, she thought. How could she possibly convince the town that two witches could be better than one?

Manual Labor Redux

Author: R. Fast / Labels:

Scenario: You’ve just bought some complicated gadget home . . . do you read the accompanying documentation? Or not?

Do you ever read manuals?

How-to books?

Self-help guides?

Anything at all?



I almost always read the owners manual. Especially for new kitchen appliances, they sometimes offer great alternative uses and recipes (I purchased a toaster oven which came with a great recipe for mini pizzas!) I love how-to frugality books, household tip books and self-help personality test books. However, I'm not to keen on self-help health or mental health books. Often times I find the information to be based on a fad that tends to be disproved or goes out of date.

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The Well

Author: R. Fast / Labels:


I was having one of those days, you know, where almost everything seems to go wrong. I almost lit the house on fire this morning trying to put out the toaster with my weekly expense report. Then I ran over the neighbor kids new bike, much to the annoyance of his parents (they hate me). Rush hour seemed longer than usual as I was stuck behind a semi burning oil. I spilled my coffee on the last remaining hint of paperwork I needed to turn in in order to keep my job and they were doing construction right outside my office window until three, and I get out at four. So don't take this the wrong way when I say that I was moments away from jumping off of the nearest bridge.

However, it all changed when I found that well. After having my car towed for missing tags I decided to walk home and forgo trying to call a cab. Feeling my luck was at the end of it's rope I opted for a nice stroll through the park rather than taking the main drag back to my house. It was a couple miles down the path and hidden behind a cluster of flowering bushes, it seemed a little unkempt to say the least. It was surrounded by plants and flowers and covered in vines. It smelled a little like rotted moss and cold water. I spied a small stone bench hidden amongst some ivy and decided to hide myself from the world, at least for a while.


I sat and listened to the breeze and the birds for some time, fumbling in my pockets as I imagined the horror of the rest of my evening. Would my house still be there? What else could possible go wrong? Without further thinking I grasped the loose change in my pocket, started for the well and tossed it in. I could hear it ringing off the cold stone and plunking hard into the still water. A strong cool breeze blew up and ruffled my hair as I sighed and turned to leave. I wished for a perfect day, no, a perfect life,one without misfortune, sorrow, or discomfort.

I took the long way home, happy to find my house still standing. The night had grown cold but, miraculously, I had managed to turn the furnace on at some point in my morning struggle. It felt cozy and reassuring to be home. I dropped my things and hobbled off to bed. Once there the day seemed to fall away like dead skin. The bed felt warm and soft and I almost felt like I was sinking into it. As I drifted off to sleep that moment at the well echoed through my mind. I heard the soft plinking of the coins hitting the water once more and every trouble lifting away as I fell into a deep slumber.

To Be Continued...

Manic Monday #116

Author: R. Fast / Labels:

If the statement, 'You are what you eat' was true, I would be a chocolate bar!



If you had to have one piece of music (softly) playing in your mind for the rest of your life, what would you want it to be? I would have to say Haydn's Cello Concerto #1.



What is the most important thing in any relationship? I go with the old tried and true, conversation.





Manic Monday Meme





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Unconscious Mutterings

Author: R. Fast / Labels:

Sunday word association Meme.


  1. Track :: Train

  2. Snake :: Bite

  3. Assignment :: Finished

  4. Blockbuster :: Movie

  5. Bombastic :: Shaggy

  6. Adventure :: Game

  7. First time :: Winner

  8. Aged :: Cheese

  9. Grip :: Get a

  10. Shortcut :: Hair



Unconcious Mutterings By LunaNina.com

Booking Through Thursday

Author: R. Fast / Labels:


Writing guides, grammar books, punctuation how-tos . . . do you read them? Not read them? How many writing books, grammar books, dictionaries–if any–do you have in your library?



None, actually, and I don't think I've really ever read through one. With todays technologies keeping grammar books seems so obsolete. I prefer to gain knowledge via the internet.

Undergoing MyBlogLog Verification

The Witch Next Door (Part 4)

Author: R. Fast / Labels:


Eliza Appleby was tall and slender, with a swan like grace and butterfly hands. The skirt she wore was of simple black crushed velvet and the corset atop was adorned with glittery celestial bodies in purples, blues and golds. She rushed down her front steps pulling a pitch velvet cloak up over her honey-brown hair, contrary to the sunny humid weather. She carried a basket overflowing with lavender, foxgloves, basil, and cloves and along side her strode a very talkative ginger dappled cat.

Ms. Appleby hurried along down Mistwood way to Mr. and Mrs. LeBeau's residence. Almost there, along the dirt road, she kept her eyes sharply upon the old Sutton place. She could feel the cosmic vibrations radiating outward and knew something was awry. Without hesitation she scooped up the chattering fur ball at her feet and place it gently into the basket. Mrs. LeBeau was fanning herself nervously in her porch swing when Ms. Appleby arrived.

"Oh thank the heaven's you've arrived Eliza," Mrs. LeBeau was a slightly portly woman and her breath was labored by the heat and her excitement,"I haven't yet seen that cat of theirs and there hasn't been a sound, accept for the arrival of the dear Mr. Sones. Oh, I hope they haven't killed the poor man."

"Now, now Margaret, you know how you get. This could be no different than last year's migration." Ms. Appleby had lifted the cloak from her head and strode into the Lebeau's residence with Mrs. Lebeau eagerly in tow.

Mrs. Lebeau chattered on behind her as she pulled various oils, drafts, and supplies from the cupboards, "Well you know the migration was a rough one, those bats were evil I tell you." Eliza hardly heard her as she hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs, brushing past Mr. LeBeau on the way. She found the room with the balcony and slowed herself as she walked out to it. She left Mrs. LeBeau silent in the room and closed the door behind her.

She waited and watched, all the while grinding herbs and such with a mortar and pestle. She was waiting for that moment, when she felt the pull the strongest. The sun had almost completely set as she scooped a small handful out and blew it, sparking, into the air. As if called by the event the small grey tabby appeared upon the steps and took a seat. Eliza turned quickly and rushed through the house towards the front door.

"What is it Eliza? What's happened?" Mrs. LeBeau struggled after her anxious to hear the news.

"It's back Margaret. I'm going to go see what it wants." And with that she flung the cloak about her shoulders and slipped out the front door.



Art by Danielle Cavanagh