Lidi Blog

Backward Circles – My Fake (Future?) TV Show

The darkness is often hidden in the light. The light can be blinding, and nothing is as innocent as it seems. In this dark and twisted tale, Lanie, Ben, and Jake must navigate life after they return from a disastrous mission trip in Somalia. Their small town of Kirkby, Alberta, is the root of the abuse and neglect that has wreaked havoc on their minds and shaken their belief in God. Eaten by guilt, Lanie must return to the seedy underbelly of her life to keep Ben safe from the danger that has brought them all home. Jake vowed to protect Ben from anyone, including Lanie, but finds it difficult not to answer the call from the sirens of his violent past. And Ben isn’t sure what Jake’s problem is, because he’s pretty sure Lanie is the answer to all his drunken prayers – no matter what she has to say about it. As they search for answers about love, faith, and life, these three are haunted by shared traumas that could destroy not only themselves, but each other, if they don’t face it once and for all.

Graceful Jake McGuinness

So i discovered a thing. My original intention was to find one of those things where you can make a robot read a bunch of examples and then generate it’s own version of the work, and I ended up finding Plot Generator. It’s basically mad libs, where you put in a bunch of information and then it gives you a story. It can be really funny because even though you’ll be putting in info thinking it will be used one way, it ends up being completely different.

The More The Merrier

“Do you believe that he brings people together for a reason? I keep thinking I might be deluding myself that I can be there for her and Dre. How can someone like me be what they need? But I can’t leave.”

“Why do you want to leave?”

“Because I don’t deserve them. Not even a little.”

He wasn’t sure what Rowan saw in his face, because he didn’t even know that he was about to cry until she scooted over to him, and wrapped him in a hug. For a moment, he was stunned, but then he brought his hands up, and hugged her back, wrapped up in her floral, old-lady perfume. Though he was at least three times her size, he felt so small, once again.

Safe In His Arms Again

Rising gracefully, he eased the guitar to hang across his back. He was wearing a white shirt, which usually dimmed the intensity of his eyes, but today he looked so happy that nothing could erase their gleam. They were like fiery diamonds. “I’m so glad you’re alive,” he said, sitting on the bed and leaning over to kiss her.

She caressed the soft bristles of his face, then twined her fingers in his silky waves. They were longer, curling at the ends and brushing the back of his neck. His skin smelled like hibiscus, and his breath tasted like cinnamon. She sighed into his familiar warmth.

“How long have I been out?”

Just a Small Neurotic Break

Lanie was clearly going through some sort of mental breakdown. And oh, was it something to behold. The violent dance of death was beautiful. Terrifying. And strangely intimate. Jealousy prodded Ben, in the same place where she’d poked her stick into his belly. It wasn’t that he wanted to be in Jake’s place right then. But just to share that closeness with her. To have her attention fully on him, acutely aware of every inch of his body and every move he made. Jake and Lanie seemed to read each other’s minds.

Toeing the Line

“Hang the children!” snapped Wallstead unapologetically. “Do you think I’m blind? That I was born yesterday? I’ll have you know that I’m nearly twice your age, missy. I swear by our Lord above, I’ve been healing people since longer than you’ve been alive. If there’s deference to be shown, it’s to me.”

“Nurse Wallstead – ”

She crossed her arms. “By God, if you were my daughter – ”

“I’d be dead, then, wouldn’t I?”

Silence. The words were out before Lanie could stop them. They were faster than the hand she slapped over her mouth. Faster than the iron bars that slammed down over Emma Wallstead’s face. Ben’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he looked between them in horror.

“Lanie!” he gasped, a delayed reaction.

“I – I’m sorry, Emma.”

And she fled.