Friday, January 31, 2014

A Study in Contrasts--The Differences between me and my brother

Today, while I was laying in bed and reading, I glanced over at my desk to check on the kitten, and the room I share with Jake happened to so small that I saw Jake's desk as well. And a sentence popped in my head: "A Study in Contrasts--The Differences Between me and my Brother". And this blog post was doubtedly born. 
So here it is, the contrasts--displayed in how we keep our desks.



Although Jake's desk is considerably cleaner, mine has a kitten on it, and her cage, my books, a water bottle, part of a fan, a sewing box which had been dubbed my "Box of Memoirs", a pincushion, a book about a Hitler Youth, a broken glass bird, and a shirt :P. 
His has a few notebooks, clothes, a G2-10 Pen, a round... thing... that looks like it's for clobbering people on the head with. Oh, yes, and speakers for Kindles and such.

The contrasts are easy to spot, but if they aren't, I will tell them to y'all. 
Jake prefers the clean.
I prefer the dirty.
And that also happens to be our Number One argument about our room--He thinks it's hopelessly dirty, and I, well, I call it "clean" at that stage. The fact of the matter is that I feel more comfortable in a dirty room. When everything is clean, it doesn't feel right--it feels cold, and feeling-less, if you get my meaning.
However, Jake is just about the opposite. Clean rooms are exquisite to him. Home. Dirty ones are disrupting, horrible, dungeon-like. 
There are so many more contrasts I could explore, but I really don't have the time tonight. :)

If you took the the time to read this blogpost, a Narnian handshake and a "Thank you" to you!

Also--what about you? Do you prefer the clean of a room? Or the dirty?

Sunday, January 26, 2014

Come one, come all! Welcome Wild Horse to our hallowed halls!

Well, readers, today you get something I have never given you before. I will be interviewing Wild Horse, my fellow writer.
We met because of authors Jill Williamson and Stephanie Morrill, and mostly because I was curious to see if there was a Go Teen Writers community on Google+, so I searched it. 

Wild Horse is a teen writer, coffee drinker and horse lover. You can usually find her patting her cat, reading a book, blogging, or writing. She spends too much time on Pinterest and not enough time in the real world. You can find her over at, blogging about writing, or at her personal blog,

Okay, here she is!

What made you want to write--when did you start writing?
I started writing seriously about half way through last year. I have always loved writing, but I had never stuck to anything. I stumbled over Go Teen Writers by mistake, and that was what finally made me take my dream of writing a book and make it real. I write because I have so many stories inside me I want to tell. 

Is there anything you can tell us about your current WIP?
At the moment, I am writing a fantasy. I'm quite excited about it, but I'm taking the planning very seriously so the writing is a bit slower than I would like. I am also editing my first novel. 

If you had to pick a favorite character from your WIP, what character would you pick?
I love Seeta, who is a bit of a know-it-all, and has a comeback for almost anything. I'm quite attached to him. I think he might have a sad, but noble end though. 

Is there a scene in your WIP you are rather proud of? Could you share it with us?
Haha I'm very happy with almost all of it so far, and I would be happy to share some of it. Here's a little bit:

‘You want us to steal a stone they have embedded in a stone table?’ Seeta is, of course, the first to voice his thoughts, and a sarcastic I-can’t-believe-this voice.
I shrug. ‘We need something of worth - the further we go, the more likely we will win.’
Ruwa nods slowly. ‘It makes sense.’ He’s balancing the pommel of a dagger on his finger. The dagger falls to the ground, bounces a few times before lying still. Ruwa scoops it up, and begins again.
Cre’s wrapped in her cloak, a miserable look on her face as she sits in nook in the rock wall, that forms a bed.
‘What's up Cre?’ I sit down next to her.
‘I don’t like all this talk of stealing things.’
‘Think of it as borrowing. Long term.’ I glance around the small room, with four nooks that make our beds.  This seems to cheer Cre up.
‘I borrowed a comb from my friend. I still have it, but I intend to give it back. Like that?’ Cre asks. I glance at Seeta, and shake my head slightly, to warn him to keep his mouth shut.
‘Yes. I want to return the stone after Camp is over.’
‘Ok then. How are we going to do this?’ Cre says in a business like way.
‘I don’t think-‘ Seeta begins, but I cut in.
‘I’m beginning to get the vibe of fear in your corner Seeta.’ I feel bad, first lying to Cre, and now forcing Seeta into doing something he doesn’t agree with. Seeta looks torn. He doesn’t want to look scared, while the rest of us stare at him, but he doesn’t want to steal the stone either.
‘I was just saying I don’t think we should make any decisions until we have seen the stone.’ Seeta rolls his eyes, but I can still see he’s troubled.
‘All of us trooping off to see this stone could suspicious.’ Our eyes swing to Ruwa. He’s got the dagger balanced.
‘True.’ Cre’s hand drops from the door.

Mountain Dew, coffee, tea, juice, cool-aid, or water?
Coffee y'all. Nothing better. 

Have you ever considered publishing?
Yes, I would love to be published. I have decided to edit before I look at it properly. 

If you could choose, would you pick traditional publishing or self-publishing?
Traditional publishing is what I would like. However, if that didn't work out, I would look at self-publishing.

What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?
Chocolate ;)

If you had to pick a favorite author, who would it be?
I love Ally Carter, her plot twists never fail to catch me out. 

What are your favorite parts of writing?
I love entering the head of a character and telling their story. I nearly always write in the first person.

What are you least favorite parts of writing?
I hate not being able to write or type fast enough for what's going through my mind. 

Thank you for coming today, Wild Horse! *salutes*
And thank you for reading this, my dear readers!


Wednesday, January 22, 2014

A Change of Plans(or maybe we could call it a change of *cough* covers *cough*!)

I have redesigned the two covers I have finished for the Chronicles of Alleure.

So, without further ado, here they are!

So, do you like this covers? Or were the others better?


Monday, January 20, 2014


, readers, the time has come where I must blog again....

A few  things kept me from posting, but....

Also, I thought of quite a few plot twists for my stories, which I would tell you, but,

I've also been applying this principle to m'dear novel....Also, I want to let you know that y'all are 

Anyway, thanks for reading!

If you enjoyed this blog post....
If you didn't...

Signed with the Sharpie of Ideas,

Thursday, January 16, 2014


Okay, first things first.


While I convince myself to breathe normally, you can look at a picture of my D.L.F. (dear little friend)

Meet Marble, our little kitten. She is colored black and white, and has an upside-down heart on her forehead, and another on her chest. Her eyes are green, and her pastimes are sleeping and eating fingers(playing). She also likes to eat.


I'm still trying to convince myself I'm not dreaming.


Saturday, January 11, 2014

Somewhat on Writing('cause I should be posting)

This is my document for the past week or two(or more):

Then I had a burst of inspiration:
Add a new character! :P
The lovely new character was one I had used before, but in a story that was unfinishable. She was Alarissa, the pretty young woman who had suffered years in slavery.
If you've read the unfinishable tale, you should know that, in it, Alarissa was from the Scallop Isles(Princess of them, to be exact), but the villain of that tale killed her parents, and enslaved her.
How do I transport such a character?
I basically started a scene, gave the person in the scene Alarissa's name, and started somewhat afresh.
I gave her a friend, people chasing her, and trapped her. So that you can see how... different? Alarissa is in this new tale, I'll post her first scene in the unfinishable tale, and her first scene in the new tale.


 A young servant girl with brown hair plaited intricately and intense blue eyes stopped by 

the large office door where she had heard protests.

“You'll never get away with this!” a boy's voice exclaimed.

“Oh,” a woman's lilting voice teased, “but we already have.”

“Dramri will stop you.”

The servant girl went on her tiptoes and peeked in the window. The woman glanced at a 

man sitting at a desk. “That fake god? We've already rebelled. If he was going to stop us 

hwould have done it already.”

“Now,” the man at the desk stood. “Will you turn or shall I have do to you as I did to 

Princess Esmerette?”

“I'll never do anything for you!” the boy seethed.

“Very well.” The man shut his eyes and the boy yelped.

“Get out of my mind!”

“I'd rather not,” the man at the desk said.

The boy's skin transformed, taking on a scaly, blue-gray cast. Sharp teeth replaced flat and 

his hand and feet turned into claws. The boy's eyes widened. “How 

could you?” he seethed. “You dirty, rotten villains!”

The woman gave a hum of approval at the boy's transformation.

“You know,” the man said, “most go unconscious at such a transformation. But you, you 

have stayed conscious. Such power. Such strength. And you wast it for a lost cause.”

“My cause is not lost!” the boy lunged for the man. The woman quickly grabbed him. 

Within a few minutes the boy was again himself.

The servant girl turned away from the window as the man said; “Return him to the 

room.” She lifted her skirts and broke into a run, her eyes, instead of wide with fear, were 

dancing with curiosity


North of Castle Elainl, Illustre, Alleure

Alarissa's feet slid on the snow as she ran. The barking of hunting dogs echoed in the hills around her, and the cold seared pierced through her skin like needles of pure cold. Hoofbeats followed the howls and barks, and Alarissa stopped short. She had reached the river. She could go no further. Alarissa turned, and frosty hair sticking to her damp lips. The dogs were approaching. Alarissa blinked away sudden tears and held up her hands as the captain of the guard approached.
“I...” Alarissa shivered. “I surrender. Take me to your Queen.”
“If my Queen didn't want you alive,” the captain said. “You would be dead where you stand.”
Alarissa resisted the urge to tell him to stop with all the dramatics. “It's a bit cold out here, so if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to get this over with as quickly as possible.”
The captain laughed. “If you're cold now, girl, you won't hardly survive our Queen. She has several... activities planned for you.”
Alarissa refused to let her fear show, and continued to choose her words as daring as possible. “I'm surprised your Queen has not killed you for being so slow,” she said.
The humor vanished from his eyes. “Emert, tie her to your horse.” he commanded, his tone matching the weather—cold. The soldier called Emert dismounted and took rope from his saddlebag. He loosely tied the rope about her wrists, then looked Alarissa in the eyes.
Beynon. Alarissa allowed her mind to say the name that her lips could not. Beynon slid a small, unsheathed dagger into Alarissa's hands, then turned and feigned tying the other end of the rope to his saddle.
Alarissa glanced, over at him, and he gave a sharp nod. She slipped her hands out of the rope and attacked the closest horseman. She brought him down from the horse, then quickly mounted and spurred the horse towards the river. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of the others, fast in pursuit. Beynon was still with them.
Aiweh, protect him. she prayed, shivering as her horse entered the first stretch of the river. Splashes of frigid water and ice hit Alarissa's lower legs, chilling her. Alarissa could almost feel the horse's relief when they made it to the other side of the river, for it matched her own.
Something is wrong.
It was too silent. The Queen's men would not have given up at a simple half-frozen river. Unless...
Alarissa swallowed. Unless more men awaited her at the other side.

Alarissa seems better in the second excerpt, does she not?

'Course, I tried the same tactic with a different character, and it didn't work quite so well.
I couldn't capture all that Aracora(the aforementioned "different character") was in the other tale, so, though she is still good, she wasn't the same. And since you went to the trouble of reading this post(which you really didn't have to do) I'll look around and see if I can find a picture that looks like Alarissa, and one that looks like Aracora on Pinterest or something of that sort.


This is the closest I could find to Alarissa. For more of Alarissa... Make the face less full, more gaunt, and make the eyes(which are blue) bluer.


I hope I'm not insulting any Black Widow fans by using her face for Aracora.
Point is, I don't like Black Widow. And, she does look uncannily like Aracora. Just make the eyes blue...
Needs sharper features...
And, of course, she needs black streaks in her hair. 

I hope you enjoyed this post!

P.S. Don't hesitate to leave a comment(Jedi mind trick: "You want to leave a comment")! I love hearing from y'all!

Friday, January 10, 2014

Random pictures...

Since not much came of that question post awhile back, I've decided to post pictures today. And some memes scattered around...

Hahahahahahaha!!!!! Okay, maybe that's just a Cover Story/OYAN joke. 

'Nuff said.