Ferocious Consumer

He ferociously consumed every crumb of food on his plate. There was always something on his plate. He had a family to provide for and protect. If his plate wasn’t full, then theirs was empty. Overworked, passive, tired—not words in his vocabulary.

Open Rack

The two young ladies browsed the store for what felt like forever in search of the perfect dresses. One of them was above average height and slim-framed. The other was shorter and thicker around the hips. The older blonde-haired woman who followed them made a poor attempt at being discreet. Still, she kept an eye on the young ladies dressed in hooded sweatshirts with college insignia and blue jeans. The November chill was unforgiving and even the sweatshirts did little to block the wind. Still, the pair were proud to display their school’s mascot on their clothing.

When I Think of Home, I Think of a Little Girl…

Soooooo, a little backstory: the primary purpose of this blog is to serve as a place to collect some of my writing; however, being the person that I am, I change things all the time. I’m a lover of creative expression and independence. I want to have as much control over my work as I can, which leads me to trying my hand at photography. I’ve worked in fields before that involved me taking photographs, but nothing serious. As long as the photo was clear and in good light my employer was happy. That’s the extent of my career in photography. However,

Who Knows?

“Just keep calm and let me handle it,” he said. The argument could’ve ended long ago, but neither was willing to budge. Compromise had been out of the question, but now she was weary. She handed over the reins to him because he claimed to know so much. From him she learned the invaluable lesson of trusting her intuition.

Introspection & Loss

I thought that this post was very well-written and definitely needs to be shared. Mental health is extremely important and we must begin the conversation somewhere. Great post, Chris Nicholas!

The Renegade Press

I recently celebrated my fourth anniversary of blogging here at The Renegade Press. As with the three anniversaries prior to this one, the moment was a bitter-sweet affair of pride and introspection. Blogging has become a passion, and a source of endless pleasure that I approach with great reverence as I attempt to pour my heart and soul into everything that I create. But it hasn’t always been this way. This website was born out of a need to find myself, and to overcome my own internal torment. Four years ago I was emotionally shattered, creatively stunted, and questioning the validity of my own existence as I battled my own private demons. I was lost inside my head,desperately searching for a purpose amongst an endless torrent of fractured, self-depreciating thoughts.

Thankfully I found that purpose; and I found myself through my writing. With each new post that I create I…

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Shades of Me

Over the past three months, my readership has grown in leaps and bounds. Three months ago I started at zero, now I’m close to 1,000. I must thank every person who takes the time to visit, like, comment and share my posts. I have a certain goal in mind as far as this blog is concerned and that goal will contribute greatly to my long-term literary aspirations. Anyone who reads one of my pieces puts me a step closer to where I strive to be, and for that I am eternally grateful.

Not So Obvious

In experimenting with various styles of writing and reading more of other writers’ work, I’m learning my strengths and weaknesses. Though I’m unofficially announcing at this moment I’m working on a novel, short fiction and poetry are what I’m best at. I like for my words to pack a punch, so I attempt to create a long message in as few words as possible. I dabble in six word stories and I’m always up for a good haiku. Here’s my first attempt at five sentence fiction:

Too Little, Too Late: An Excerpt

An excerpt from the novella Reflection in the Music:

It had been two weeks since she lost him. Pea had several regrets in her life. Her biggest regret was allowing her other regrets to interfere with her love for the man who passed away, the father of her unborn child. For what seemed like the thousandth time she reread Isaiah 55:8. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways.

Past vs Present: An Excerpt

An excerpt from the novella Reflection in the Music:

Jane and Sarita sat across from each other at the kitchen table. Several moments of silence passed between them as they examined one another. One of them was Sly’s past and the other was his present and soon-to-be future. Jane placed her hand on her swollen belly and wondered how the heck she had gotten to this point. She could’ve kept her own husband, if only she had the desire to compete with his drug habit. Unfortunately, that was one of the downsides of the music industry that she had worked so hard to avoid herself, knowing her addictive personality. There was a reason she split with James, her husband, when she was younger and it was the same reason that she split with him after she had gained a few more years’ worth of life experience. Too bad that wasn’t enough to stop her from returning to him. Too bad that addictive personality kept her bouncing back and forth between James and Sly. Had she been in more control over her habit, she wouldn’t be Sly’s and Sarita’s new roommate.

Maybe In My Dreams

Maybe
In my dreams
I’ll be able
To feel the embrace I so longed for but never received.
Maybe
In my dreams
I’ll approach
you sooner than what was originally conceived.