First blog post

Hello friends.

Blogging is new to me. I’ve always dreamed of sitting at home, sipping some posh drink and writing the days away.  But let’s face it, I’m no Carrie. Instead, I work my 9-5 and write when I can.

Let me introduce you to my world – I live in a quaint home with my husband and two children.  I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree in accounting (don’t be jealous) and I currently work as a government auditor (again, don’t be jealous).

At the moment, I am 25,000 words into my first novel. Do you want to hear some real talk? This is the HARDEST I’ve ever worked in my life. I didn’t take creative writing classes, I haven’t been published, and my comma placement is less than perfect (isn’t that what editors are for?).  Despite the obstacles I’m likely to face, I’m SO excited. My heart is filled with passion; 89.67% is for my family and the other 10.33% is divided between dark chocolate and my novel. I know that may seem like a less than optimal percentage of passion reserved for my novel but I do what I can.

If you’ve read this far, I’m assuming that means you enjoyed my first attempt at an “official” blog post. Stay tuned for snippets from my novel, short writing exercises, and obscure observations.

Until next time. – Love AK Clark

Note: I will try to control my sarcasm; however, it should be noted that I’m not very good at that type of thing.


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Just a Dream


The firelight cast shadows across the chamber’s floors. Alex sat on the tripod, chewing a laurel leaf, waiting for her next visitor. The chamber’s curtain rustled and steps echoed throughout it as the visitor neared. He strode toward her purposefully. He was a handsome man, with a strong nose and sharp blue eyes. She met his eyes and smiled shyly.

“How are you friend? Tell me, why have you come?”

“I’ve come to ask about the power lurking in the west. When will they strike?” She felt her pulse quicken as he spoke. The voice that haunted her dreams and the man it belonged to, stood in front of her. 

“Argus?” She asked weakly, her throat suddenly dry. 

“Yes Pythia.” He said impatiently, “What of the power in the west?” He said, clenching his fists. He voice was deceivingly calm but Alex saw the faint black shadow of violence coil around him before she gave herself over to the vision that was tugging at her.

Screams of agony filed the air, the dying and the dead lay around her. The sound of metal clashing together drew her attention to the warriors in front of her. The men were caked in dirt and blood, their swords whoosing through the air only to clash together again. She identified the Grecian warrior by his black and yellow armor but she didn’t recognize what country the other man fought for. He screamed at the Grecian warrior as he made a final, killing blow. His red and gold armor shining in the sun as he turned, taking in the fallen warriors. His eyes snapped to hers, an evil smile played on his lips as he approached her slowly. Stalking toward her; trying not to startle his prey. She took a step back, slipping in the blood that soaked the ground beneath her feet. He grabbed her by the throat before she could fall back into the sea of dead bodies. She came out of the vision only to find Argus’s hand tightening around her throat, crushing her. She thrashed violently but he only chuckled.

“Do you think you can fight me Pythia? Tell me what you saw.” She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t say anything as he squeezed her throat even tighter. She slapped at his hands but he didn’t let up. She felt his hands crushing her trachea, felt it collapse in on itself before she began suffocating. He dropped her, leaving her a crumpled mess on the floor. Her body spasmed as it tried to find air, fighting to stay alive. She stared up at his smiling face, her mouth opening and closing, struggling to take a breath. She heard a wet rasping and knew the sound was coming from her. Argos kneeled down and whispered, “Are your lungs burning? Can you feel your body fighting for air?” She tried to hit him but her arm wouldn’t move, “Shh, shh, shhhhhh. Its okay, Pythia. It will be over soon. Did you know your body can’t survive very long without air? Your brain is shutting down as we speak. I can see the light in your eyes fading.” His voice became distorted as she faded in and out of consciousness. Her head fell to the side and then there was nothing left but the deafening silence where her heartbeat should have been.

Alex woke up panting, relieved it had been a dream. The feeling didn’t last though, she looked around confused, the shadows around her were unfamiliar. She struggled to orient herself, trying to find anything familiar. Where am I? She thought frantically, her eyes searching the room. She took a deep breath, steadying her heart, as she realized where she was. I’m safe, she thought. She tried to sleep but could not. Every time she closed her eyes she saw herself flailing around, fighting death.

Isaias’s words echoed through her mind, “What will stop them from coming back and hurting you, taking your things, or raping you?” She had been angry with him, but the nightmare made her reconsider his words. Maybe it wasn’t safe to live alone while Vero’s murderer was on the loose.


© 2017 Ashley Clark


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In light of recent events, I’m struggling to stay loyal. With all the hurt and pain we’ve been through, I’m not sure we can overcome the obstacles in our way. But I will bide my time, waiting for that familiar feeling to come back.



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Haven’t you longed to be that person?

Awe inspiring.

Ever desiring.

Craft brew drinking,

What is she thinking?

One line dropping,

traffic stopping.

Hip coffee shop,

Bubble-gum pop.




Yeah I want that.



© AK Clark 2017

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I sit, staring at my screen, trying to come up with something clever to write for the daily prompt.

“Mama! Watch me twirl!” My 4 year old stares at her skirt as she twirls. The skirt flows around her wildly, a blur of pink, yellow and orange.

There it is! I can’t really describe it, but I feel it. The wild, bold, snarky, and anything but tame nature of my 4 year old. I see passion shinning in her eyes as she dances around the room… Twirling and grooving, completely uninhibited.

I wonder what defining moment will tame her. What will break her wild and free spirit? How can I help her keep it?

“Dance Mama! Dance!”

As always, my answer is yes. Yes baby! Let’s dance.

❤ Mama

The Daily Post

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Writing Exercise 1

Prompt: Introspection – Moments after capture.

Word Limit: 100

Breathe. Just breathe! My mind screamed at me, as if it were so easy. As if my mouth and nose were capable of taking in air. My lungs burned at the lack of air. I strained, tried to break away from the hands clamped over my face, but it was useless. He held me in place, keeping me where he wanted me. I couldn’t escape, though I tried again and again. Kicking, scratching, screaming, biting. They were all ineffective; he caught me and there would be no escape.

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