Truly Inspiring

Sometimes, as a writer, the world can get you stuck. You wake up feeling gummy and the gears sticking like the brain engine chewed up an alien's entrails, and the goo just won't come off. I found a post via Youtube that really got my gears steaming and clean. Listen to it closely, and feel the inspiration take hold and give you that extra jolt of passionate creativity you need:

http://youtu.be/zBoQK56asbI


The speakers are:
George Clayton Johnson
Mark Fergus
Jimmy Diggs
Dante Harper
Charlie and Vlas Paralapnides

Nishi's Gluten Free Chocolate Chip Cookies

Sorry there is no photo of my cookies, they were so delicious, I ate them all before I could snap one!

 

Nishi’s Gluten Free Chocolate Chip Cookies

1 cup amaranth flour

½ cup potato starch

1 tsp baking powder

½ tsp baking soda

1 tsp salt

1 ½ sticks butter, room temp or soft

1 cup granulated brown sugar

½ cup sugar

(Note: you can try substituting 1 cup coconut sugar if you don’t want to use regular sugar, and leave out the other ½ cup sugar)

1 egg

As many chocolate chips as you want (1 ½ cups)

A little more than 1 tsp vanilla extract

Large pinch of ginger powder

A few large shakes of nutmeg

A few large shakes of cinnamon

(Note: the spices add to the flavor without overpowering the cookie, due to the amaranth flour)

 

What to do:

1.  Mix flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt into a bowl.

2. In another bowl, cream butter and sugars until combined. Add egg and vanilla.

3. Add flour mix and spices. Mix until smooth. Gradually add chocolate chips.

4. Scoop balls into as big as you want them to be (smaller for small cookies, larger for large cookies), then roll and place on prepared cookie sheet, spacing them because they will spread. Freeze for twenty minutes and preheat oven to 375.

5. Place cold cookies into oven and bake until golden brown, about 10-15 minutes.

 

Enjoy!

 

 

Roving

Roving

By Nishi Serrano

 

 

I’m-a hungry, I’m-a hungry, I’m-a rovin’ an’ empty

ma boots is all muddy an’ the tin can is rusty

poor fool in the saddle who’s bottle is broken

an’ the sky is whiskered like them devils in Jersey

Percolatin’ skin under the sun an’ the gin

I’m-a hungry an’ rovin’ an’ drowned as ma sins

Good luck to ya beggars an’ braggarts with whores

I’m-a hungry an’ rovin’ soon to knock on yer door

Shuck ma with shooters not one bullet bites

ma hungry tum itches to scratch out yer eyes

I’m-a hungry, I’m-a hungry, I’m-a rovin’ an’ empty

a dead poke in tatters, a zombie ma friend.

 

Memorial Day

 

Love You Lil' Bro! 

Renewel

When I was a child, I knew this particular year marked a great change in my life. For the rest of my years I wondered what it was about this year that would be different. The interesting thing is the changes started right away, and they were sudden. To talk about it would defeat the purpose of why these lessons are brought to me, they are for my inner self to hold and puzzle over until the light goes on and I discover things about myself that will help with a renewel: a new year, a new path, a new outlook, a new strength.

For the first half of this year, I am going to choose not to be online much. This is going to give me time to rethink and restrategize my future plan, and to adventure in the real world. This will help give me time to write solidly again. The posts on my blog will be less frequent. I will finish 'The Bilge', and after that, there will be no more free short stories, only interviews and commentaries on places and things experienced.

I know I will lose some of my favorite blog followers because of this, but good things come to those who wait, and there are many stories to tell.

Cheers to the new year and all it will bring you ...

Nishi Serrano
'Creating fantastic worlds imaginative enought to hold the unexplored...'

Witch Way to the Christmas Sleigh?

Christmas traditions, every family has them, and every family around the world appears to have some very different ones than those we are used to in America. As you’ve probably guessed from my last Christmas post, I happen to be enthralled with Krampusnacht. Yes, that horny beast that follows Saint Nick around in the hinter lands is a favorite. But have you ever heard of Le Bafana the Christmas Witch, or the Holly King? It seems that Europe is rife with interesting creatures running around in December.

 

          If you are into Halloween, then Italy may be the place you want to spend your holiday vacation. Le Bafana is the crowning Christmas queen—and she is a witch.  So when you look up in the sky and expect to see a sleigh and reindeer, think again as you do a double take and notice a gaggle of flying broomsticks loaded with sacks carrying presents and the fun-loving witches who deliver them to all the good little Italian chitlins below.  But don’t fret, Le Bafana is a good witch, unlike Krampus, her broom is for delivery purposes only—not smacking the living tar out of naughty boys and girls. Supposedly, Le Befana comes around after December (January 5^th), but apparently the celebrations start much sooner.

 

          In keeping with the pagan theme (and for those of you who don’t know what the origin of the word pagan means: it means ‘country folk’ aka peasants—yup, that’s right, the beliefs of the country folk, not Satanist or crazy people), I shall introduce you to the Holly King. The Holly King garners his strength Midwinter, December to be exact, and he is brother to the Oak King who reigns summer. He is known to be associated with many names such as: Cronos (father time), the Green Knight, Santa Claus, and several others. When you see a depiction of a woodsy Santa, you are seeing the Holly King. The earth goddess is the prize between the two brothers who battle each other every year for her love and continual respect, otherwise we might not see another winter/summer. Here is an interesting tid-bit about the Holly King posted on www.paganspath.com:

Through these early mythical legends, The Holly King begins his battle with his twin brother the Oak King at the Summer Solstice. As the year is wanning the Holly King prevails and begins preparations to save and maintain his people through the cold winter. In order to accomplish his mission, he travels the land to hunt, fish and harvest. Transporting these life saving items in a wagon or sled pulled by eight deer. These 'gifts' of life are provided to all his people, and in exchange they provide care and comfort to his team of deer.

There is also suggestion that the 8 reindeer plays pagan significance. Just follow along here, it comes together in the end. Even in those ancient times the number 9 was an important spiritual number. 9 witches often made up a coven. 9 feet was the diameter of a perfect circle. And maybe that's why "the whole 9 yards"; which refers to the 9 yards of material for a Great Kilt worn by many Celtic highlanders is so important. When we think of Santa we think of Santa and his 8 tiny reindeer. And most people focus on the 8 reindeer. Well now add Santa. 9 souls traveling through the winter sky to bring presents for the rebirth of the year. It's a stretch, but there are those who believe this is where the 8 reindeer got their start.

 

          In the Nordic countries they wholeheartedly believe in elves. Before roads get built in some places, they have to first make sure the elves aren’t living there and going to get thoroughly pissed that people are intruding on their lands. Roads have actually stopped construction and had to be moved because the elves were messing with the construction. I kid you not. Don’t f#*ck with elves, or you may not get any Christmas presents, or a new road. In Iceland there are no fewer than 16 Santa’s (elves) known as the Jolasveinar (Yule Lads), and they pack some spooky folklore. Typically though, they mostly like to be peeping toms, play tricks, and their mothers like to eat children.

           Perhaps we should start adopting some of these Christmas traditions ourselves, as I see more spoiled brats each year being brought up to believe the world owes them everything without so much as lifting a finger off their iphones.

           As far as my own Christmas traditions go, I just love being with my family and gazing on the tree all spruced up with trinkets and sparkly lights. I like to laugh, drink hot toddies, and cozy up with everyone I hold dear to my heart. And secretly think those naughty thoughts of a Krampus with his chains and whips coming to get me *wink*.

            Have a wonderfilled Christmas, a safe, happy, and warm holiday season!

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Autumn Having A Brew

Autumn Having A Brew

©2012 By Nishi Serrano

Autumn gazed past his transparent reflection in the window. The people beyond the glass walked briskly by as they gripped umbrellas and tightened scarves snug to the neck. Ah … another rainy November day in Portland, perfect weather for a finely crafted brew. In front of him the pint’s tiny bubbles surged upward and disappeared. It amazed him how the carbonation kept appearing as if by magic at the bottom, never ending, at least not until the last drop of cider slid between his lips.

            A freckled hand wrapped around the drink, the rivulets of condensation interrupted. He fingered the wetness, anticipating the excitement of flavors to soon douse the palate. This was his drink, the fruits of his and Summers’ labors. Yet, Summer hadn’t partaken with him for at least a century. A flurry of white beyond the warmth of the café caught his attention. Oh, my. And here he thought he would be drinking alone.

            A woman entered followed by a freezing wind that chilled each one of the patrons, and brought with her a smile that froze every look directly on her. Autumn smirked. The lady flicked her long tresses away from her face impatiently and set about removing her light-weight coat and scarf as she floated to Autumn’s table.

            “Well, I should have known you’d be here. I ignored my gut instinct and started in London. Thank goodness you’re a creature of habit,” she said, plopping onto the seat opposite him.

            Autumn sighed and glanced at his cider, a tad miffed he wouldn’t get to savor it in full bloom. “You’re early.”

            Red lips pouted at his accusation. “No, love, you are late.”

            He grimaced. “Blame it on Spring.”

            Tattoos and black appeared beside the table, dominating their view. The waitress appraised the newcomer nonchalantly and asked, “You need a drink?”

            It was scary how large Winter could stretch her smile. “Why yes, what a tasty little morsel you are! However, I guess I’ll just have to settle for bourbon on the rocks.”

            The server’s cheeks colored. She mumbled something and quickly exited. Of course bourbon, after all, it was the new cool, despite it being around for decades.

            Winter pinned her attention back to Autumn. “Out of all of us, you have the best hair. I’m positively jealous. I tried to dye mine that same color of sparkling red, but it looked hideous on me.”

            He grinned. The wintry season would be longer this year, she seemed a less frigid incarnation than usual. “Surprising, you’re quite pale.”

            “Yes, yes, rub it in. If only I could be as lusciously dark as Spring, she gets all the fun!”  

            “Oh, but you get invited to the best parties.”

            “True. Did you know Summer and Spring are off having a fling? I suppose that’s why you got bunked. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, but it does mess with the flow of things.”

            Autumn ignored her for a brief second, raised his glass, closed his eyes, and took a swig. When the taste effervesced, his green eyes opened. He licked his lips. Winter gazed at him, entranced.

            “So, why are you here?”

            Surprise and hurt wrinkled her normally smooth face.  “To talk about the end of the world.” A cocktail napkin and glass plunked down in front of her, the smile returned.

            “You ready to order food?” the server asked.

            Winter couldn’t stop her boisterous mouth. “Only if you’re on the menu, dear,” she replied, and winked. The server glared and walked off.

            He rolled his eyes. He’d had to listen to that bit of gossip for the last seven years incessantly. There was always some faction or other going on about the end of the world. It just so happened the Mayan’s were the star record holders for the longest held theory, thanks to modern gadgetry. “Do you really believe that schlock?”

            “Where have you been hiding that pretty ginger head lately? Humans aren’t the only ones talking. It’s been reflected in deeper pools if you catch my drift.”

            He gazed longingly at the cider and sighed.  “What makes this year so special?”

            Winter gave him a hard, squinty stare. She drummed her fingers against the rocks glass and said, “The Bat.”

            “Come again?”

            Her usual frigid self returned. He hated it when she looked at him as if he were a child. “Mayan folklore. Man’s downfall from greed and corruption. C’mon, just look at who’s running for the presidency in your beloved USA, not to mention the rest of the hoopla. Anything could happen. And, apparently it’s about to.”

            He rolled the cider around his tongue, and swallowed. If this was the end, what would it mean? What would happen to him and the others? No more finely crafted brews? He shuddered. “Why are you telling me this now, Winter?”

            She guffawed, pounded the amber liquid, and then patted the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Oh, you really are priceless. Don’t you listen to the news? “

            He shook his head, brow raised.

            “You’re date dear, and that means you’re responsibility.” She threw up her hands and sighed. “Really Autumn, are you that daft?”

            Perpetuated by her words, a moment of sheer, chilly terror traveled up and down his spine. Impossible—he hadn’t been out of the loop that long, or, had he? “No, no … this is a mistake, maybe a joke by the Fates,” he said, gaze searching for something far beyond the window of the café, a means of escape perhaps.

            “You can’t blame anyone else. If you weren’t off hiding all the time, you’d have known sooner,” she accused.

            Autumn was speechless. A thousand thoughts swirled inside his head like a gale of skeletal leaves. If the responsibility of stopping the end of the world landed on him, then it needed to prepare for doom.  His hands tightened around the pint. This unnerving change of the wheel caused an unfamiliar feeling, that of being truly alone for the first time. Lost … everything would be lost.

            When he raised his gaze to meet hers, he was ashamed to see pity written plainly across her features. Winter sighed. “My poor, poor Autumn. I never thought it possible for you to become further melancholic, but you have. Fear not, you are my favorite, and I plan on helping you.”

            He felt like he should hate her, but Winter had always been a close friend, even though she was a bit high maintenance, and snarky. He cocked his head in wait for her clarification.

            “Start at the orchard. You know—the original orchard. I can’t come with you though, they hate me. Plus, they get righteously jealous whenever I’m with you. They practically worship you and Summer. Anyway, I hear an old friend of yours might have some information.”

            Autumn blanched. That old haunt was the last place he desired to visit. This end of the world nonsense was happening far too soon. He would be forced to relive the beginning of events all over again. Bloody fumpkins! His mind went on a cursing rampage as the ice queen continued to stare.

            She broke the silence. “Don’t I at least get a thank you?”

            Angry, he gulped down the remains of his brew, smacked loudly, and said, “Gee, thank you for bringing me high tidings, do you want a big hug to go with it?”

            “You’re not the hugging type,” she said and huffed.  She pulled a rumpled wad of money from a pocket and dropped it next to her empty drink. Both hands on the table, she leaned over it with her face close to his. “I’ve got your back, I’ve always had your back, and stars know I’d love to see that front, so stop moping and get to it. I’ll keep my ear to the ground and meet up with you down the road.”

            He grimaced at the finished cider clutched between his numb fingers.  Winter donned her scarf and breezed out the cafe without another word. She paused outside the window and tapped a nail on it. A smudge of frost appeared. She held her hand out, palm up in front of her face and puckered her lips. Kiss, kiss blew a blush of Winter. Autumn shivered.

 

           

 

           

            Have a fabulous fall! ... N