Friday, December 26

Hi, people.

I know I'd said I'd update the story and stuff, but it's going to have wait until January. I'm busy and doing holiday and family stuff right now. So January. Okay? Good.

~ Terri Freedom

Saturday, December 13


I just want to remind everyone that this story, Beyond Reason, is what I like to call an "Internet Story"--I'm writing for practice, to get my writing quality up. I'm not taking it quite as seriously as I would an actual novel, but I'd still like critique on it, if possible.

I won't be applying any of the critique I recieve until I get to chapter ten, though, so don't look for an updated version until then. Also, this story might be a little confusing, but hopefully everything will be explained in the end, so please be patient.


~ Terri Freedom

Beyond Reason

Prologue – The Puppeteer’s Choice

The puppets danced insanely to a silent tune. Their wooden legs clicked together and their hands beat in the air.
One puppet was a girl. The other was a boy.
There was a heart carved into the boy’s chest. He loved the girl. She was his world. But the girl did not have the same marking. She was oblivious.
The boy puppet danced towards the girl puppet. The girl stopped dancing and turned towards the boy.
The boy’s hand touched the girl’s. Suddenly, she was aware. He was there, in front of her, wanting her. The girl was uneasy, not knowing what to do with the boy’s wooden heart. Should she smash it? Should she hold it?
She turned to the Puppeteer for answers.
The Puppeteer gestured with his hand. He enjoyed making the citizens on strings suffer. He moved the tips of his fingers, and the girl walked away from the boy.
The boy ran away. The Puppeteer made him cry.
Then, the Puppeteer had an idea.
He pulled the boy puppet up so he could hold him. He ran his fingers along the boy’s wooden back, inspecting him. Then he whispered silently into the boy’s ear.
He found another puppet, a smaller one, still a boy. He did the same to the new puppet.
Then the Puppeteer took the two puppets, put them on strings, and forced them to dance their way to a new stage.
The show was on. The puppets’ lives were changed. The Puppeteer controlled them, made them go from their familiar stage to this strange new one.
On Earth, a boy named Jamie Kay, having just been rejected by his life-long crush, was quietly crying over his loss when he abruptly fell over. There was a flash before his eyes, and instead of seeing the ceiling of the school gym, he was gazing into the night sky.
He sat up and looked around. Trees were everywhere. Beside him, his younger brother, Alex, was staring up at the sky, bewildered.
Jamie coughed, and Alex looked towards him. Then Jamie said, “What are the chances, do you think, that we’re not in Kansas?”

Text copyright © 2008 by Terri Freedom. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, December 9

Well, well. We meet again.

Beginning sometime this week--probably tomorrow, if I remember--I'm going to begin posting an internet story. It's called Beyond Reason. I'm not taking it very seriously, but I think that it will motivate me to write every day. I'll start out adding to it every day, although, depending on how it goes, I may add to it every other day, or maybe every third day.


Jamie and Alex think that they lead a fairly normal life--well, except for Alex being able to see the future and know what people are thinking. But when the two brothers get mysteriously sent to another world without an explaination, they know that something's wrong. From then on in it's a race to solve the puzzle and get back home. Along the way there's trouble from animals, humans, and mixes of the two as Alex and Jamie trace their past for clues as to getting back home.

Looking forward to your comments, questions and critique on it!

See you next time.

~ Terri Freedom

Saturday, November 29


That last story, Beretta Ninety-Two, was a short story I scribbled up in English class, when I left the essay I was supposed to be working on in class at home. The teacher gave me a picture of a uniformed man on the ground, another man on the ground, and a man in black standing with a pistol in his hand. It inspired me to write this short story.

As usual, I'd like your opinions and questions, and your comments and critique, if you can give it.

Until we meet again! [insert evil laugh here]

~ Terri Freedom

Beretta Ninety-Two

Officer Rikshaw collapsed to the ground. His hand clung desperately to his chest, as if it had a chance of stopping the flow of blood. But he knew it was impossible to stop death’s wrath.
Vaguely he recalled the recent events:
The old man was walking down the crowded sidewalk when the young, desperate mugger seized him roughly.
Riley Rikshaw saw it all happen from across the street. He saw the old man get pushed against the vandalised wall of the alleyway, saw the mugger’s mouth move, no doubt demanding money and spewing threats of beatings or death.
Riley dashed, darted, and dodged through traffic. Car horns blared, and taxi drivers hollered in different tongues and made rude gestures with their hands.
Riley didn’t care for them. The drivers and passengers could be delayed, could be five minutes late for their appointments. But Riley could not be five minutes late for his appointment with the man and the mugger. The man might be severely injured in the five minutes it took to get to a crosswalk, cross the road, and run all the way back to help. Time refused to be on the side of innocence, it seemed.
The elderly man had taken off his gold wristwatch and placed it in the mugger’s hand. He was in the process of removing his wedding ring. The mugger kept his right hand tucked away in the pocket of his hoodie, causing Riley to suspect a knife or gun.
“Stop what you’re doing this instant,” Riley demanded as he cautiously approached the two. “I’m a police officer and I’m ordering you to stop.”
“Help me,” the aged man implored weakly.
“Shut your face,” snarled the mugger. He eyed Riley up and down, as if searching for something. “You don’t look like any cop I ever saw.”
“Undercover,” Riley answered, flashing a badge, “but not unarmed.”
The mugger grinned, flashing yellow teeth. The he pulled a pistol.
With a bang and a bloody hole in his forehead, the man’s long life ended in an instant. Riley shouted out in protest and reached for his own standard-issue handgun inside his jacket pocket.
Time refused to be on the side of innocence, it seemed. The mugger had already fired a second bullet, and his aim was true.
Officer Rikshaw collapsed to the ground. His hand clung desperately to his chest, as if it had a chance of stopping the flow of blood. But he knew it was impossible to stop death’s wrath.
Vaguely he recalled the recent events . . . .

Text copyright © 2008 by Terri Freedom. All rights reserved.

Friday, November 7

Hey everybody!

Everybody meaning the two people who actually look at my blog...

No credos? I'm mildly disappointed. Well, poetry writing mood is gone with the warmer weather, I suppose. Now I'm working on my story, titled, for the moment, "Demon Slayer". Plotline:

When two men, Graelys and Elrar, meet one another for the first time, it's a mutual feeling of respect, and a slight trust. As they learn more about one another's bloodline and personality, their emotions turn from content to hate. Pitted with each other in life-threatening situations and staring dangers in the face, the two have to learn to use each other's strengths--whether it's Graelys' physical prowess or Elrar's magical study--to the advantage of both of them. But what happens when they become each other's enemies, for neither can prosper with the knowledge that the other lives . . . .

Dun dun DUH!

Intriguing? Please . . . share your thoughts with me.

~ Terri Freedom