Leira C. Sanchez Quinones
August 26, 2010
Violet walked around her father's garden in an attempt to get away from her stepmother and half-siblings who were completely annoying. Only seven more weeks since could go back home.
She went around the house until she found herself standing on the driveway, staring at a bike. Clunking noises came from its other side. She walked closer to get a look when here foot caught on something sending her flying forward.
"Fuck!"
Now sitting on the cement driveway she saw she had tripped over a black toolbox. She held her foot trying to ease her pain and see how deep was the cut when she heard a young, male voice over her.
"Oh, I'm sorry," the guy said.
She looked up to see a tall, dark hottie standing over her.
He knelt down to look at her cut. "Is it bad?"
His eyes were green and he had a mole on the right side of his neck.
"Hello?" the guy said.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Violet said while trying not to blush. "What did you say?"
He smiled. "Your cut? Is it bad?"
Violet shook her head no.
"Either way, I'm going to run inside a second and get you a band-aid and something to clean it up with." He nodded his head towards her father's house.
"In-inside?"
"Yeah, I live here." He stood up and left. He wore skinny jeans which fitted him nice even though he didn't have a butt to fill it with.
As soon as he walked through the door Violet's mind started racing. He lived here?! How could he? She was sure the house he had just gone into was here father's. The same house where she'd been staying for the past week. Surely, she would've noticed a sixth person at the dinning table. Before she had a chance to look around and make sure there weren't two identical houses like her father's around, in case she had confused the homes, the guy was back.
He took her foot in his lap and, with a gauze, cleaned her cut.
"I'm Violet, by the way," she said, trying to ignore how weird she felt with her foot on s stranger's lap. On a hot stranger's hand.
"I'm Rodrigo," he said, rolling his r's and everything, "and I think your tattoo is rubbing off."
I waved him off. "It's okay."
"Why a butterfly?"
Friday, August 27, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
IPad love and my inner artist
Yesterday I got in the mail a long-awaited package. Upon recieving it the mailman told me that the package almost didn't make it because the sender (my aunt, who lived here for 20 years and visits regularly) forgot to write the neighborhood's name on the address. She only wrote the street and house numbers. Thank God for small towns and good people!
Ever since I opened the box I've been in curled up in my room, nosing through every one of my iPad's corners. Currently, I'm writing this blogpost on a very useful app I downloaded for free, PaperDesk. It lets you keep notebooks by subject. You can use them for whatever you wany, very useful for college students like myself. As with any notebook, you can doodle and by free-hand too. If you have a stylus then that is made easier since we are used to wrtiting with a pen or pencil and not with our finger. It has paper selection, ruled, yellow-ruled, white....it let's you record voice notes as well.
I also started playing with Adobe's free sketching app, Ideas. I discovered my inner artist. Here's an example:
I'll cut this short and get back to you soon (I hope) because tomorrow is my first rehearsal with my university's drama crew, TeatRUM. I auditioned a couple of weeks ago and made it! ¡Hasta la próxima!
Ever since I opened the box I've been in curled up in my room, nosing through every one of my iPad's corners. Currently, I'm writing this blogpost on a very useful app I downloaded for free, PaperDesk. It lets you keep notebooks by subject. You can use them for whatever you wany, very useful for college students like myself. As with any notebook, you can doodle and by free-hand too. If you have a stylus then that is made easier since we are used to wrtiting with a pen or pencil and not with our finger. It has paper selection, ruled, yellow-ruled, white....it let's you record voice notes as well.
I also started playing with Adobe's free sketching app, Ideas. I discovered my inner artist. Here's an example:
I'll cut this short and get back to you soon (I hope) because tomorrow is my first rehearsal with my university's drama crew, TeatRUM. I auditioned a couple of weeks ago and made it! ¡Hasta la próxima!
Friday, May 28, 2010
Five-Fingered Wave Cover
My fellow inkpopper, cipherqueen, kindly made this cover for my novel. Visit her blog at
http://cipherqueen.blogspot.com
http://cipherqueen.blogspot.com
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Three Word Story; Saving Princess Snoralot
This is the second installment in the unicorn series of three words. The first one hasn't been published. This is an example of what a three word story COULD be.
Pudding by Tessa; Puddle by Yashira and Crap by Cheerios
Tessa, the goddess of hay, and Yashira, the goddess of oil, teamed up to save Princess Snoralot from evil Dr. Cheerios, a doctor of cerealtic needs.
“Grab that unicorn,” Tessa yelled at Yashira just in time for her to turn around, see the brown unicorn approaching and tie a lasso around its neck. Tessa straddled the unicorn and took control of it.
“Wait a minute,” Yashira said, “unicorns aren’t supposed to be brown.”
“Blech,” Tessa said. She lifted her hands which were covered with something brown. “It smells like pudding, chocolate pudding.”
“But unicorns are made of cotton-candy.”
“Does it really matter what I’m made of?” asked the husky voice of the unicorn. “I’m here to take you to save Princess Snoralot.”
Tessa and Yashira locked eyes. Should they trust?
“Pull my tail,” the unicorn told Yashira.
“Is that the unicorn version of pull my finger?” she asked.
He glared so she pulled. He farted a green, foul smelling gas. The goddesses almost suffocated while the unicorn laughed.
“It never gets old,” the unicorn said between chuckles.
Yashira stood in front of him glaring.
“Okay, okay,” he said and opened his mouth revealing a note inscribed on his tongue with Princess Snoralot’s handwriting.
Go through the pee. Snafu will take you there.
PS. There’s nothing else, those are my initials.
Yashira climbed behind Tessa and the three arrived at a clearing half an hour later.
“There it is,” said Snafu and nodded his head to a puddle in front.
“Is that really pee?” Tessa said.
“It’s yellow and it smells like pee,” Yashira said.
“If that is pee then I’m made of crap,” said Snafu.
The goddesses looked at each other. “Beer.”
TO BE CONTINUED….
Pudding by Tessa; Puddle by Yashira and Crap by Cheerios
Tessa, the goddess of hay, and Yashira, the goddess of oil, teamed up to save Princess Snoralot from evil Dr. Cheerios, a doctor of cerealtic needs.
“Grab that unicorn,” Tessa yelled at Yashira just in time for her to turn around, see the brown unicorn approaching and tie a lasso around its neck. Tessa straddled the unicorn and took control of it.
“Wait a minute,” Yashira said, “unicorns aren’t supposed to be brown.”
“Blech,” Tessa said. She lifted her hands which were covered with something brown. “It smells like pudding, chocolate pudding.”
“But unicorns are made of cotton-candy.”
“Does it really matter what I’m made of?” asked the husky voice of the unicorn. “I’m here to take you to save Princess Snoralot.”
Tessa and Yashira locked eyes. Should they trust?
“Pull my tail,” the unicorn told Yashira.
“Is that the unicorn version of pull my finger?” she asked.
He glared so she pulled. He farted a green, foul smelling gas. The goddesses almost suffocated while the unicorn laughed.
“It never gets old,” the unicorn said between chuckles.
Yashira stood in front of him glaring.
“Okay, okay,” he said and opened his mouth revealing a note inscribed on his tongue with Princess Snoralot’s handwriting.
Go through the pee. Snafu will take you there.
PS. There’s nothing else, those are my initials.
Yashira climbed behind Tessa and the three arrived at a clearing half an hour later.
“There it is,” said Snafu and nodded his head to a puddle in front.
“Is that really pee?” Tessa said.
“It’s yellow and it smells like pee,” Yashira said.
“If that is pee then I’m made of crap,” said Snafu.
The goddesses looked at each other. “Beer.”
TO BE CONTINUED….
Friday, May 21, 2010
Strike at the University of Puerto Rico, all 11 Campuses
This link will take you to a video of the strike. Entitled "Two hours in the strike at the UPR" it shows how the students are living, the conditions, at the gates of their University. There are emotional scenes: when the parents and professors hand them food over the gates, when a particular grandma visits her granddaughter that has been living at the gates.
http://vimeo.com/11767255
The students don't do this because they want to or because they don't want to go to school. Wouldn't it be easier to drop out and be able to eat and shower whenever? To sleep on a comfortable bed?
We are fighting for our rights. We are sick and tired of being oppressed. Say NO to privatization. We have the right to a public university!
If you click on the header it will take you to an article on the New York Times that will explain further.
http://vimeo.com/11767255
The students don't do this because they want to or because they don't want to go to school. Wouldn't it be easier to drop out and be able to eat and shower whenever? To sleep on a comfortable bed?
We are fighting for our rights. We are sick and tired of being oppressed. Say NO to privatization. We have the right to a public university!
If you click on the header it will take you to an article on the New York Times that will explain further.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Earthquake in Puerto Rico!
I was on the phone and falling asleep on my bed. At 1:16 am my whole house started shaking! The mirrors and windows rattled and the screams from the neighbors could be heard throughout the whole neighborhood.
I ran to the door, my phone flew against the wall, I came back for it and ran to my grandparents room who were calling my name.
At that moment, the earth stopped shaking.
We went out to the street and met frightened neighbors. The phones started going off. MY mother was the first call. She felt it and grabbed my 5 yo sis and ran. Then my aunt who is in her own neighborhood doing just like me.
Of course, after making sure everyone was ok i did the right thing, logged into facebook. There were around 100 people online in my account and countless groups and pages were made, "I felt the earthquake and shit my pants too!" for example.
It originated a couple of miles from my house but because it was profound we didn't see much consequences. There was no tsunami warning because it didn't reach the 6.5 magnitude. However, we live in a small island and panic dressed the people.
The same magnitud earthquake happened in the '80s in El Salvador, 5000 people dead.
THANK GOD FOR PROTECTING MY ISLAND!
I ran to the door, my phone flew against the wall, I came back for it and ran to my grandparents room who were calling my name.
At that moment, the earth stopped shaking.
We went out to the street and met frightened neighbors. The phones started going off. MY mother was the first call. She felt it and grabbed my 5 yo sis and ran. Then my aunt who is in her own neighborhood doing just like me.
Of course, after making sure everyone was ok i did the right thing, logged into facebook. There were around 100 people online in my account and countless groups and pages were made, "I felt the earthquake and shit my pants too!" for example.
It originated a couple of miles from my house but because it was profound we didn't see much consequences. There was no tsunami warning because it didn't reach the 6.5 magnitude. However, we live in a small island and panic dressed the people.
The same magnitud earthquake happened in the '80s in El Salvador, 5000 people dead.
THANK GOD FOR PROTECTING MY ISLAND!
Monday, April 26, 2010
I dare you to a 3 word story
I do this with my friends. I find it inspires me. It's like a writing prompt. It is NOT a story consisting of solely three words.
Every week I will post 3 words. You (if you want) will write a story inspired by those three words and the story must INCLUDE the words. Take whatever context you think of it: i.e. orange, it could be the color or the fruit; your pick. Sometimes the words can be made up gibberish.
It is not meant to be a polished piece of work. You get the three words and write non-stop until the three words are included or until you want to stop. It must have the three words.
The story can be one sentence long or a thousand. It doesn't matter. It doesn't have to make sense. When i write them i usually like them to be humorous. But it's your pick.
You can publish it like you normally publish a story here on inkpop and comment with your link or you can post it right in the thread (if it's not too long).
What do you win? Inspiration. A crazy new story to add to your portfolio. And it's fun.
(8^.)
Ya ready?
First set of words are:
PICTURES, CARTOON, ARGUE
Every week I will post 3 words. You (if you want) will write a story inspired by those three words and the story must INCLUDE the words. Take whatever context you think of it: i.e. orange, it could be the color or the fruit; your pick. Sometimes the words can be made up gibberish.
It is not meant to be a polished piece of work. You get the three words and write non-stop until the three words are included or until you want to stop. It must have the three words.
The story can be one sentence long or a thousand. It doesn't matter. It doesn't have to make sense. When i write them i usually like them to be humorous. But it's your pick.
You can publish it like you normally publish a story here on inkpop and comment with your link or you can post it right in the thread (if it's not too long).
What do you win? Inspiration. A crazy new story to add to your portfolio. And it's fun.
(8^.)
Ya ready?
First set of words are:
PICTURES, CARTOON, ARGUE
