Halloween Story #1 “You’ll Never Guess”

In the spirit of Halloween, I decided to share three tales of horror, starting with today’s tale. Gather around, and let us see what will happen to our dear Sammy.

you'll never guess

The morning breeze mixed with the smell of Sammy’s steaming coffee heightened his sense of admiration for the beautiful scene that he lacked back home. On vacation now, he decided to wake up early to be the first in the breakfast buffet at the guesthouse he was staying at. Sammy looked around him and saw no one here but himself. He drank from his Turkish coffee, and as he was sipping, he heard steps coming from behind him. Thinking it most probably belonged to another guest. He didn’t turn to see who he, or she was. But suddenly, and out of nowhere, something very odd happened. Sammy’s eyes were covered from behind by that person. Startled and uneasy at first, he found himself settling once that person who covered his eyes from behind spoke.

“Guess who?” The voice was familiar and unfamiliar to him at the same time, but not of someone who is very close. If it belonged to a woman, it would be a mature one, and if it was a man’s voice, it would belong to someone probably younger than he is. The hands were not too soft to notice, so he was left with so many faces from his memories. He couldn’t guess no matter how hard he tried.

“I… uh…. ” Sammy smiled “I honestly have no idea.”

Sammy felt the person leaning next to his shoulder, and felt a breath going in before the person spoke.

“You never  will.”

Sammy felt something very sharp penetrating his eyes, the hands then slid sideways and away, rubbing Sammy’s face as it did. Sammy screamed in pain, he turned around to take a swing but hit nothing but air, lost his balance and fell on the floor.

“HELP!!” cried Sammy, but he couldn’t hear anyone yet. He lied down on the floor, terrified, not because whatever fiend did this to him might still be with him, but at the reality of the idea that he will never… ever… see again.

I hope my story was entertaining. Tune in tomorrow for the second story, entitled…. “The Baby Sitter”

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

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Why though?

So… here I am sitting, minding my own business, readying my copy of Paulo Coelho’s Aleph inside the plane, of an airline that I won’t mention that it owns a couple of football clubs, when suddenly an announcement came that took my attention away from Paulo’s story, which is very hard to accomplish. It roughly said.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are now in the process of fueling our aircraft, please remain seated and do not fasten your seat belt.”

Apparently I was the only one reacting to that announcement because everyone was busy doing whatever they were doing, mainly talking or playing with their phones, I didn’t notice another reader at the time. First thought was “really? Seatbelt off??” Why? Another thought came that maybe I misheard that. But that thought was dismissed when another announcement came after a while.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are still fueling our aircraft, please do not fasten your seatbelt”

Now you shouldn’t do that to someone like me. I’m a writer with a hyper active imagination of a 4 year, sugar high, kid. What am I suppose to think now? That the seat belts are running on fuel? Is wearing a seatbelt aggressively going to cause some spark that somehow will find its way to the tank fuel? Is the airplane gonna think we’re are flying if we wear our seat belts and start to takeoff automatically?

That’s when my logical thinking started to speak to me, and it says “This might be a safety procedure, in case, god forbids, the tank accidentally caught fire and they need to evacuate the airplane, so they make sure nothing will hinder our exit plan.” But then my logical-er thinking jumped in and it made more sense “Seriously?! If they care for our safety, why did they let us in the plane while they are fueling it?”

There might be a logical explanation to this illogical announcement. The thing is, someone who works in an airliner might read what I wrote and think of me as ignorant. But that’s it, I am ignorant about flying and their rules, so are you about literature, orthodontics or dental facts. Writing this post actually made me think of the many times I was treated rudely for asking questions, for example, related to visas or residency. Guess what? I don’t work there so don’t expect me to know how things work in your place of business or country. So here I am with a confused look and with many questions on why we don’t wear our seatbelt when the airplane is fueling.

What do you think is the real reason?

A New Christmas Read…

It’s seems like it was only yesterday when I celebrated the new year’s eve, but here we are now, at the threshold of a new chapter in our lives. This year has probably moved light years ahead for me because it was my busiest year yet. And it will soon about to become more interesting.

My inspirational fantasy novella, Kima, is now set to be released soon around the end of November and the beginning of December. This novel have been in rewriting inferno for a tremendous time. Passing through purgatory now, Kima will soon shine out and be available publicly and only clicks away too.

 

     Christmas Eve 1928 gave birth to a yearly phenomenon in South Africa. A herd of false killer whales were found beached upon the shores. It has also given birth to the story of two young children who meet an old woman named Kima. Kima somehow knows why this has happened, but that’s not all she knows. The children, Alex and Alice, realize that there is more to this woman that what meets the eye, and ear. She will reveal to them a tale, a mysterious story she claims was passed on to her by a mythical Black Seagull.

Derived from both historic tales and figures, Kima is a fictional character portrayed in a way that makes her become real.

 

There will be more to reveal in the coming future, all I could say is that this is an inspirational novel that I had extreme joy and pleasure writing it. I hope in the very upcoming future I will get to share the experience and hope we can learn something from my inspirational fantasy novella.

 

 

 

book-cover-kima-front-cover

 

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Celebrating a new year of bliss…

bday leveling

I don’t have birthdays, I level up.

 

Today is a new blessed day in my seemingly fast going life. So much happens that you forget where you are right now; life’s way of telling you to move on.

In this year I lost and gained, I won and learned, I saw great icons pass away and new ones appearing. Quoting one of my icons, my father, life is a floating river, going against it will break you. So today I would like to pat myself on the shoulder, and be grateful for what I have today; an extra year of wisdom.

 

~ A. H. Amin

 

 

“The Last Mile”… Inspired By The Expatriate Life.

In my previous post I have revealed my newest adventure; which was set in China and it will last around three years… Yes, I am now living abroad where I get to struggle with the process of adjustment, learning a new language, and… the very cold weather… seriously; a Russian colleague expressed to me that it’s colder than her hometown, which gets around 20 below zero. But even though my trip has trials and obstacles, it is still not the adventure you would look for on the book shelves.

During my time as an expatriate in Egypt, I had the fortune of meeting one of my best friends, a student with a very interesting story to tell. She is always inspiring, kind, talented… and she runs marathons. But underneath all that was a part that was sad to know. I was inspired by her story and wished I could know more about her, and to be able to experience what she experienced… I sometimes felt jealous of her because I knew she was stronger than me, because I would crack under that pressure.

So when I came to China, I found inspiration was spreading in the air. I wanted to write something inspiring especially since my inspirational novel Kima has reached to a point where I can feel brave enough to let her go. And that’s when I asked for my friend’s permission to allow me to use her as my muse for my next inspirational novel. I have been working on my thrillers for a while and I am planning my next publishing strategy… But the lion’s share from my efforts will always go to my writing.

So I write today to express my gratitude to have known you, Dr. Enas. I wish you all the great fortune that you deserve in your new life, and I hope I will do you just in this story inspired by your adventures. Keep doing what you do and stay, as always, inspiring.

Here’s a draft from the prologue. I hope you will get to know here more in the coming future.

The Last Mile.

Legs stiff, breathing fumes out of her burning lungs, gasping for air, drowning in her own sweat, and her heart is a raging beast, pummeling on her ribcage; furious for what she has put it through. How could a day that started with a cool breeze turn into an afternoon in the Sahara desert? How did it get to this? What brought me here to this final mile? She reproved herself. This morning, they made the mistake in placing a runner named Enas in the ten mile division instead of the thirteen miles marathon. Now that she thought about it; it could be the fates telling her to reconsider, that she does not belong in this marathon… the same way she thought that she didn’t belong anywhere.

The only positive thought Enas could squeeze out of this seemingly final moment of her strange life is that she is going downhill. One mile of rest after nineteen miles of torture. The same statistics life had given me so far – her depressed body calculated for her. She tried to block the fact that the last remaining distance is going to be uphill. Save your energy… save your life, damn it! Her brain fought against her crumbling body.

It  didn’t feel like she was going downhill anymore… It felt like she was falling into a hole, one she have to crawl out off, like the many times she fought her way through her life.

Here I am – she told herself. She is now at the bottom, high on endorphins, ready to ascend up. She turned and looked back, to see what does the last mile look like. But what she saw was more… she saw her life. She looked the past in the eye, and it revealed her story.

enas

 

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How It’s Done…

So with just a day to spare, I decided to post this video to show you how I actually create my animated novel. The 4th of September will mark the beginning of something wonderful.

And yes.. that’s me talking. Weird accent… right??

 

~ A. H. Amin

Why Authors Are Like Serial Killers…

I know; it’s a bit confusing to try and create a mash-up from two seemingly different careers… Did I just say career’s?!! Scratch that your Honor… Back to our point. I’d like to mention the strange traits that both specimens share; where weird theories and thoughts came to me as I torture my characters and sometimes even myself.

post writer and sk

First: They both believe they’re artists.
They want to be recognized, and knowing that there are other writers and serial killers out there, they try to have their own… let’s call it… calling cards. A writer is as unique as his writing style, and it can be influenced through their experiences.. like the saying goes.. If you want to be a great writer, you have to have a bad childhood.
Second: Plotting all the time.
You see us gazing away in the distance, not aware of our surroundings. We sometime act out what we want to do. A rehearsal for every scene you cannot picture with just your imagination. Portraying a man in prison for a year can be done by sitting alone in a room without the usual daily objects to comfort us. A serial killer would, for example, do a test for his calling card poison on… let’s say spiders… I don’t know anyone who would object testing on those… everyone hates spiders.
Third: They usually have seemingly normal jobs.
For example, and in my case, I’m a dentist… The person who is smiling all the time, trying to create a comfortable environment in the clinic, creating the so called Hollywood smile and relieve people from their pain. But… every day… every darn day… teeth… teeth every where… decay… it’s affecting me… Oh no it’s that one patient.. “So why didn’t you come back after I removed your root canal? I told you it is important.” Dentist me said.
“I thought once the pain is gone then that’s it” He says.
“But.. But..”
“So what will you do doctor” He interrupts like he always does.
“… Well… We’re gonna have to pull it out”
“And when will it grow back”
“Grow back??” asked me.
“GROW BACK?!!”
… And that’s when I blacked out your honor.
Fourth: Deep down… we want to be caught.
You put your heart out into planning the perfect plot… and no one will ever know about it… if a tree falls down in the forest and no one was there, will it make a sound?  Subconsciously they want some recognition of their intellect. Imagine you have the perfect idea and no one will ever know about it… you have it right in front of you.. in an A4 printed first manuscript, or in a column in the first page of the news paper… not having credit of your work can be the worst result a serial killer and a writer could have. Which is why they won’t stop until their words reach out to everyone.
Fifth: Upgrading their techniques and methods.
A serial killer will start planning and mapping the place. Little by little he/she will do her/his research, and maybe find an abandoned place for their victims… something to make their Modus Operandi  unique. So is the writer who wants his stories to be told in a different way. Words can be one way to describe your tales, but there are other mediums for storytelling. And come this Friday, you will see my new upgraded method to know what the last point exactly means.
So there you have it. Now the lesson you should learn is; never upset an author… he can always fictionalize you into his victim in his upcoming children’s play 🙂
Till next time, WordPressers.
~ A. H. Amin