Longest Reading Queue, Purely for Fun.


My current pile of books to read, minus G.D. Falksen’s Ouroboros Cycle series. It’s somewhere around here. =)


Reading for fun is a category of its own. There is no difference between the genres I read when I enjoy a book in question. There is a lot of fun when it comes to reading a fiction piece, I mean, who doesn’t like to submerge themselves in a story full of fantastic elements whether magical, mysterious or suspenseful? Also, there are a number of books that provide the reader with a limitless well of wonder by detailing the life of a historical figure or how about reading an inspirational book where the reader is transported to different travel locations with beautiful and compelling photographs? Similarly, science and technology offer many books at every level of knowledge to detail wondrous discoveries.

When a person is reading for fun, anything goes, in my opinion. However, my preferred genre of reading is Fantasy and Science Fiction. More fantasy I suppose since lately, either medieval magic or obscured vampires have invaded my reading queue list and by the looks of it, It will be a good while before I move on to other equally enjoyable pastures. There was a time when I could have answered to the call of voracious reader, but sadly, since I retired from my job, I have too many things to do with and for my seven year old daughter to keep up with all the books I want to read. Now days, I have to choose one book and stick to it until it is done. Nothing wrong with that, but in my case I used to have many stories in my head while I went about my day. Now I can hardly keep up with the only book I’m reading since my real life demands more attention now that I’m retired, believe it or not and the pile of book I want to read keeps getting bigger and bigger.

One thing that doesn’t change is that I do have fun reading all kinds of genres. As a matter of fact, in my book, reading and fun is the same thing so I can tell you without a doubt that I have fun reading fiction as well as non fiction, so long as it is a book that caches my attention.

reading meme



The Great Divide

When reading for fun, do you usually choose fiction or non-fiction? Do you have an idea why you prefer one over the other?



Mirror Crawlers: Gavin



Little Gavin released the sides of his pants that he was clutching as the last of the words he heard left the tale with an ominous open ending. He realized he was tense and shook his shoulders to assure himself he wasn’t paralyzed like the man in the story. Listening intently to the scary tales that the gown ups were sharing was not as frightening as the other kids had told him, but the atmosphere around him, along with the tense anticipation at being caught, was wearing down on him. a little. So far no one had noticed him hiding behind the carcass of an old convertible car grandma had turned into the biggest and ugliest planter he had ever seen. Gavin wasn’t much for appreciating old rusted cars full of flowers, but here in the dark, the shadows that they reflected behind him against the wall of the storage shed, sure inspired in him a little more respect for the whole monstruosity. The bon fire in the middle of their backyard, illuminated the front of his hiding place, but flowers or not, their shadows did look a bit menacing, especially when the breeze would sway the tall hollyhock stems to make it look like tentacles were reaching out for him. After settling down once more, he prepared for the next story which cousin Sienna had promised to share with them.

Gavin began to listen to a horrifying tale, one which grandpa had also sworn it was true. Of course, he was sure that Grandpa would have said anything to scare them all. He listened to the story, but started to have second thoughts about being so close to the side view mirror that hung broken on his side of the car. The little reflective pieces that were left, made Gavin look away promptly to dismiss any threat of attack from the creatures that he heard were lurking behind the reflection. But then again, now that he thought about it once more, the pieces were so little that nothing big could get through and he was sure that shadows or not, they would be so tiny that he could take them down, or at the very least escape their clutch. At ten years old, Gavin was a self assured, adventurous kid who challenged everything and got away with way more that he ever got caught for.

He didn’t know that the creatures lurking behind mirrors only needed to make a subtle touch. He didn’t know that the shadows were darkness was most obscured, penetrated the reflections so deeply that they became an extension of their own world. Gavin continued to endure admirably the details of the story that begun to build uneasiness around the grown ups. He had just realized that Elena’s expression was not one of horror but of pain because her husband, Professor Julian was painfully squeezing her hand. He continued to listen as cousin Sienna described her own account of the experience she had with these evil creatures a few years back. However, the sudden assault of ominous dread that he felt did not come from the words that he heard. A scream of horrified awareness got caught in his throat when he noticed demonic tentacles reaching out to him. Too late he realized that they were not from hollyhock shadows, too late he noticed the unbroken side view mirror from across the other side of the flower bed.




By Margarita Morgan
September 24, 2014

Subjective Beauty





This is one of my favorite pictures. As the petals of this carnation begin to whither, they form shapes that make them seem as if they were floating in water.

Sometimes, when I catch the flower perfectly still, the camera picks up on the way the flower carries its age in a resigned, yet calm and peaceful manner.

Most people wouldn’t look twice at a flower that is dying, but at times I like to take pictures of them to show that while beauty may be subjective, the appreciation of these flowers is also overlooked more times out of habit that rejection for the way they look.





Brutal Honesty, Subtle Sarcasm . . . Welcome!


When it comes to words of critique, brutal honesty is the best way to get my attention. For some reason I have always taken people at their word. If they make a comment, you can be sure that I believe they mean what they said. I don’t do well when trying to recognize hidden meaning in backhanded compliments or subtle hints to indicate that what I wrote is bad. Actually, many times I don’t even get sarcasm at all which makes the instigating party very frustrated at times. That is my way subconscious way of getting back at them, I suppose.

Similarly, although I have learned to circumvent the truth when doing a critique, I tend to be brutal at times. However, my comments are usually part of a longer conversation I had in my mind and the part that makes it through my mouth is usually something that is perceived as sarcastic and or completely out of left field. I also had to learn to just be quiet and smile when other people are glorifying something that plainly needs a lot of work, you could say that at the moment I’m practicing a spiritual work of mercy. I find it difficult to deliver an honest thought when a person is in need of support so smiling is the best form of feedback.

If you visit my place and see something that needs to be improved on or corrected, just say so. In my little corner of the world, you don’t have to tip toe around a subject. You can be yourself completely. Note that politeness is always appreciated, but I’m not afraid to take a punch. My absent minded psyche protects me from taking offense and I just might get the point you are trying to make.

I especially appreciate suggestions to my works of fiction because I’m trying to acquire a distinct writing style that would be effective in compelling emotions out of my readers and if it is not working, I would like to know how I can convey my ideas better.
Thank you in advance if you decide to be brutally honest when criticizing my writing and similarly, my apologies if my answer is not well padded.



Daily Prompt
Handle With Care
How are you at receiving criticism? Do you prefer that others treat you with kid gloves, or go for brutal honesty?

Little Bank of Fog


On a perfectly clear morning a small bank of fog quietly rolls its way up the hills.
It could be that the morning caught it sneaking out into places it shouldn’t be.
It could be that it is simply making a statement with a subtle sign of rebelliousness.
Not many noticed the delicate cloud lingering, as the morning sun forced it towards the sky.
Reluctantly, it retreats slowly;
Not too slow as to let the heat of the sun dissipate its essence into nothing.
Not too fast as to deliver a victory to the sun
As to concede that a summer morning is no place for a little bank of fog.




By Margarita Morgan

September 22, 2014




I am TyroCharm



My story which is very simple, really, short and sweet. I was born four months ago in a little town called WordPress and although the children of this town are many and they have populated the world far and wide, I say it is little because the community I live in is small and filled with a few wonderful friends whom I owe everything I am today. I was a small little blog when I when I first took hesitant steps into the world of writing. I stumbled and fell, but the WordPress community is full of helpful individuals that guide one as me through a maze of hints and tips to overcome a most severe lack of knowledge when expressing eloquently the things I’m trying to say. I grew up surrounded by a group of friends that supported me through those times I wrote awful pieces of random thoughts, and who also enjoyed with me a number of posts that send our imaginations all over the world exploring fantastic adventures. I’m not proud of everything I have written over the past few months, but in doing so I have learned to appreciate the power that words have when expressing feelings, ideas and notions. I have also leaned that the potential for writing what you want lies just beneath the surface of perception and the best way to get at it is to write constantly whether publicly or privately in my hand written journal. With daily prompts offered at every corner of WordPress, I am never short of stories that keep me company even when I choose to stay home and not publish with my friends during a morning out at the Daily Reader. Recently, I’ve taken to publish my own pictures that mostly reflect the life of flowers in my garden. It has been a wonderful experience to meet you all and share in your stories as well. I am grateful to be part of a small community that appreciates the writings of great authors as well as the efforts that novice writers make in their journey to be better.



Flash Talk

You’re about to enter a room full of strangers, where you will have exactly four minutes to tell a story that would convey who you really are. What’s your story?

Not Just a Pretty Face


This little flower stood tall against the unwavering heat of a day in summer.  It was the only flower to bloom from a batch of wild flowers I planted next to my storage shade. Between direct sunlight and unrelenting heat from the plastic on the wall of the shed,  all other flowers would dry out before they opened their petals.

When I took this picture,  I didn’t think it was special in any way. A few days ago as I was sorting through my albums I realized that it was the only flower to bloom in that area through the summer.  Not only did I see this flower as unique,  but I also thought that it’s bright colors captured a defiance towards adversity that taunted the harsh elements pounding on its delicate petals.

The cheerful and lively appearance of this flower hides within a multitude of small victories against elements that destroyed all of its other companions. This one little flower is indeed not just a pretty face.


By Margarita Morgan

September 18, 2014


Ready, Set, Done

Today, write about anything — but you must write for exactly ten minutes, no more, no less.



To Begin With

A lot has changed since then. Today , I no longer hide my pictures.

A lot has changed since then. Today , I no longer hide my pictures.

Way back then, I wanted to be a photographer. I longed to have a camera that had a lens with zooming features. My husband, bless his heart, took me around town to different stores to “shop” for the best camera possible. Only that his idea of shopping was to ask every salesman about all the features in all the cameras and then go to the next store without ever buying anything. Hey, I’m not judging, but not all of us have such a carefree attitude about the time we spend researching items we will never buy. To make a long story short, after days of looking into this shopping experience, he was done. That’s it. It took me a few more days to figure out he was not going to buy me a camera, He only wanted to share with me in the research process of all the details and features related to cameras. That was the first moment during my young marriage that I thought, “Who are you?” You know, that moment when reality begins to chisel at the smooth edges of reality, but lets not digress, suffice to say that yes, I was disappointed, but my loving husband had to live with me while I recovered, so in my book, we’re even.

As a result of this episode, one of our good friends gave me his camera. I don’t remember the make or model, I couldn’t tell you if it was good or not, but I do remember that it had a zoom lens and I loved it. I used so many 35mm rolls of pictures to quell my inspired heart that if I had developed them all, I could possibly find a good picture or two now days. Back then, when I picked up the first roll of developed pictures, I got a slap in the face at the realization that there was not a single picture in that batch that was worth the effort I put into it. I may have been too critical of my work, but even now when I look back on this, I don’t remember any pictures that I liked whatsoever. I never developed the rest of the films. They are somewhere in storage.

Now, deprecating humor not withstanding, I’m sharing this story to tell how a little hand-me-down from a good friend saved my marriage from a disastrous episode. Even though I really wanted to be a photographer, I had no skill, no education, and no talent for it. While you can relay on one, it is possible to succeed if you lack the other, but I had too many strikes against me from the get go and I do appreciate the wisdom my husband showed in not helping me invest lots of money in a pastime I gave up at the first sign of trouble.


Written by Margarita Morgan
September 17, 2014


Daily Prompt
Clothes and toys, recipes and jokes, advice and prejudice: we all have to handle all sorts of hand-me-downs every day. Tell us about some of the meaningful hand-me-downs in your life.

Aging Beauty


Even in her olden days, this Daisy commands a beauty that compels the beholder to appreciate her age in a new light. As the last bestiges of youth leave her body,  maturity increases her delicate poise with grace and a spark of fierce vitality.



Daily Prompt
Absolute Beauty
We’ve all heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Do you agree? is all beauty contingent on a subjective point of view?

Guilty Pleasures

One does not need an overload of information to loose track of common sense. Some people are naturally challenged in this aptitude and unwillingly provide a stream of vivid images if not situations for the rest of us to talk about. While many times the lack of common sense in an individual is a most frustrating experience for those around them, other times the situations that arise from brave souls acting out their ideas in hindsight result in a comedic scene that albeit a little embarrassment and harmless pain, provide an entertaining experience for the rest of people that watch at a safe distance.

TruTV has one of the most hilarious shows I have seen in recent years. Every time I run across The World’s Dumbest . . . Dummies, I cannot help but watch the show with carefree abandonment at the expense of those around me who have to suffer my loud and ruckus laugh. Being a shameless fan of the Darwin Awards, this show brings to life all kinds of videos which could very well be honorable mentions. The gene pool of these human creatures continues to expand, contrary to the Darwin Awards and in this show, all of the protagonists end up alive and well . . . after they recover from the consequences of their own lack of common sense.

Quite a few times I catch myself covering my mouth as I make loud exclamations of surprise in anticipation to what looks like a gloriously dumb idea. Let me tell you, I’m not particularly bright myself, but as they usually say, “The instinct to survive is strong with this one” and when it comes to taking risks, I’m better off not tempting fate. How on earth can these people not foresee what is so plainly obvious to the test of us? The actors that make comments on each video are comedians that come up with a variety of improvised one-liners augmenting the funny reactions to an already humorous situation. Although most of these videos are recorded while attempting to capture a moment of glory, their unexpected turn into humor is priceless.

I’m not very proud of my tastes in comedy. For the most part, when I’m not involved deciphering British humor, which is my favorite, I tend to celebrate dorky and silly humor, but truTV has a way of bringing the feral child in me when it airs The World’s Dumbest Dummies and I loose track of my usually composed demeanor. . . (She grins). I give the show a high rating purely based on my personal preferences. If you ever watch this show, I dare you not to laugh threefold when the actors deliver their usual deadpan comments.


Written by Margarita Morgan
September 14, 2014

Daily Prompt:
Overload Alert
“Everybody gets so much information all day long that they lose their common sense.” — Gertrude Stein
Do you agree?