Take an author photo and write yourself a bio.
Not my best selfie, but whatever.
Thursday, 16 March 2017
Playing catch up! Word prompt from March 1
Playing Catch Up! Word Prompt from February 22
Man, field work really tired me out! Not to mention I've been spending my time trying to write the million and a half papers we have due in the next month so I can focus on Camp NaNoWriMo. Anyways, here's another word prompt! (Note: It's a spin-off scene from a book series I'm writing).
A character realizes something as they look up into the night sky
"Britannia, come look at this! They're finally pulling out of Vietnam!" Devon walked over and poked his older sister where she sat at the dinner table. Britannia started.
"What? What is it Devon?" she asked.
"Look!" Devon pointed at the television, where a camera was showing a crowd of soldiers and refugees being lifted onto a plane and flown away.
"Isn't it great?" Devon asked excitedly. Britannia tried to smile, but it only came out as a grimace.
"No, it is. It's a great victory for those who've lost their loved ones to this pointless war," she said.
"Britannia, you should be more excited!" Devon crossed his arms and turned away from her, walked back to the couch. "You know, since you got back from Washington D.C. you've been really moody. What happened out there?"
"What happened?" Britannia looked up and saw in a flash what had happened. She gasped. "It, it just got violent Devon that's all."
"Did you see people die?"
"The hell kind of question is that?" Britannia stood up quickly, looking angry. "Who asks that kind of question Devon. You have no idea what happened or what I went through!" She walked quickly to the front door and flung herself outside, slamming it behind her.
She walked halfway down the steps and hopped up onto the granite side rails, laying back. She sighed and brushed away the tears from her face. She had not meant to yell at her brother like that, but he had no idea what she had been through. She closed her eyes, trying to keep down the sobs that were rising. She could see it now, people running and screaming, magic lightning streaking across the air and the four people who meant the most to her disappearing in a flash. She had lost Christana shorty after when she disappeared...and ended right back in San Francisco. Her power to control the weather had been stripped from her. Britanna let out a quiet sob and sat up, rubbing her eyes roughly.
"No business crying about it," she said to herself. "We lost the war, and as far as I know I'm the only one of us that survived. I just need to forget that it ever happened and move on."
But how could she moved on? After everything that she had seen and gone through? After the people she had met and had come to know and love? How could she forget how it felt to save the universe?
Britannia laid back down, gazing up at the night sky which was clearing up from a recent storm. She looked up at the stars, and then gasped.
She saw not one, not two, but six shooting starts streak across the night sky. Sitting up, she looked down, realizing something. A smile began to creep across her face.
"It's not over yet, is it?"
A character realizes something as they look up into the night sky
"Britannia, come look at this! They're finally pulling out of Vietnam!" Devon walked over and poked his older sister where she sat at the dinner table. Britannia started.
"What? What is it Devon?" she asked.
"Look!" Devon pointed at the television, where a camera was showing a crowd of soldiers and refugees being lifted onto a plane and flown away.
"Isn't it great?" Devon asked excitedly. Britannia tried to smile, but it only came out as a grimace.
"No, it is. It's a great victory for those who've lost their loved ones to this pointless war," she said.
"Britannia, you should be more excited!" Devon crossed his arms and turned away from her, walked back to the couch. "You know, since you got back from Washington D.C. you've been really moody. What happened out there?"
"What happened?" Britannia looked up and saw in a flash what had happened. She gasped. "It, it just got violent Devon that's all."
"Did you see people die?"
"The hell kind of question is that?" Britannia stood up quickly, looking angry. "Who asks that kind of question Devon. You have no idea what happened or what I went through!" She walked quickly to the front door and flung herself outside, slamming it behind her.
She walked halfway down the steps and hopped up onto the granite side rails, laying back. She sighed and brushed away the tears from her face. She had not meant to yell at her brother like that, but he had no idea what she had been through. She closed her eyes, trying to keep down the sobs that were rising. She could see it now, people running and screaming, magic lightning streaking across the air and the four people who meant the most to her disappearing in a flash. She had lost Christana shorty after when she disappeared...and ended right back in San Francisco. Her power to control the weather had been stripped from her. Britanna let out a quiet sob and sat up, rubbing her eyes roughly.
"No business crying about it," she said to herself. "We lost the war, and as far as I know I'm the only one of us that survived. I just need to forget that it ever happened and move on."
But how could she moved on? After everything that she had seen and gone through? After the people she had met and had come to know and love? How could she forget how it felt to save the universe?
Britannia laid back down, gazing up at the night sky which was clearing up from a recent storm. She looked up at the stars, and then gasped.
She saw not one, not two, but six shooting starts streak across the night sky. Sitting up, she looked down, realizing something. A smile began to creep across her face.
"It's not over yet, is it?"
Tuesday, 7 March 2017
Playing Catch Up! Wordbound Prompt from Feb. 15
Basically grad school hooked it's claws in me and did not let go! This week is my week long field work (clinicals basically) and while I still have tons of assignments to get done, I have a whole other week off to do them. In other words, it's time to play catch up! P.S. I LOVE MY FIELD WORK.
Put a character in an abandoned building or space
Annette cursed quietly as her stiff fingers dropped the match she was holding. Fumbling around in the dark, she picked it up and attempted to light it again. She knew that she risked the dictatorship finding her if she lit a fire, but she also knew that she could not survive the frozen winter night without it. It was a risk she was willing to take if it meant keeping her fingers and toes.
With a hiss, the match flared up. Annette quickly dropped it onto the pile of wood and old newspapers in front of her and began to blow softly on the flames, trying to keep the fire from going out. Soon, a small fire was crackling. Annette put her hands over the flames, sighing in relief as she felt the cold leave them. She looked up at the smoke now ascending through a hole in the ceiling of the abandoned building she had taken refuge in. A pang of worry ignited in her stomach, but she pushed it aside. The fire would only be lit for a moment. She would warm up, eat, and then move on.
Opening up her pack beside her, she took out a protein bar wrapped in foil and took a bite, wincing at the bitter taste. Protein bars were awful, but one could keep you going for hours. Chewing, she stared into her little fire, thinking of how she had come to be in this situation.
It had started with the dictatorship coming to power, overthrowing the once established democracy. At first it seemed like the dictatorship would leave the people alone and only focus on expanding the borders by invading the neighboring countries. And then the raids started. Those who had come to her country as refugees were quickly rounded up and either deported or placed into prisoner death camps. The people attempted to riot but were quickly silenced when their new leader set the military on them. The casualties were devastating. Soon the military began dropping bombs on entire cities, regardless of whether or not they supported the new government. One of those cities had once been Annette's home. Her family had been killed and she was forced to flee with the others towards the northern border in hopes of finding refuge. But they had been separated when they encountered a blizzard.
Annette looked up suddenly, her eyes wide with horror. She heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter approaching. Cursing, she grabbed a handful of snow and threw it over the fire, which went out at once. Stuffing the protein bar in her mouth, she grabbed her bag and fled from the building. She looked around frantically, searching for a place to hide. The helicopter grew louder. She could see the search lights moving through the buildings and the streets, looking for rebels.
Turning, she saw a small shed, it's door handing by a hinge. She threw herself inside and yanked the door closed as much as she could. She was just in time. She huddled in a corner as the searchlight went over the shed. Hardly daring to breathe, Annette peaked through an opening and saw the helicopter heading south, the large red logo slashed on the side of the new regime. Sighing with relief, she waited until she could no longer hear it, then opened the shed and walked through the abandoned town towards the northern border, hoping to not only find the others, but safety and salvation.
Put a character in an abandoned building or space
Annette cursed quietly as her stiff fingers dropped the match she was holding. Fumbling around in the dark, she picked it up and attempted to light it again. She knew that she risked the dictatorship finding her if she lit a fire, but she also knew that she could not survive the frozen winter night without it. It was a risk she was willing to take if it meant keeping her fingers and toes.
With a hiss, the match flared up. Annette quickly dropped it onto the pile of wood and old newspapers in front of her and began to blow softly on the flames, trying to keep the fire from going out. Soon, a small fire was crackling. Annette put her hands over the flames, sighing in relief as she felt the cold leave them. She looked up at the smoke now ascending through a hole in the ceiling of the abandoned building she had taken refuge in. A pang of worry ignited in her stomach, but she pushed it aside. The fire would only be lit for a moment. She would warm up, eat, and then move on.
Opening up her pack beside her, she took out a protein bar wrapped in foil and took a bite, wincing at the bitter taste. Protein bars were awful, but one could keep you going for hours. Chewing, she stared into her little fire, thinking of how she had come to be in this situation.
It had started with the dictatorship coming to power, overthrowing the once established democracy. At first it seemed like the dictatorship would leave the people alone and only focus on expanding the borders by invading the neighboring countries. And then the raids started. Those who had come to her country as refugees were quickly rounded up and either deported or placed into prisoner death camps. The people attempted to riot but were quickly silenced when their new leader set the military on them. The casualties were devastating. Soon the military began dropping bombs on entire cities, regardless of whether or not they supported the new government. One of those cities had once been Annette's home. Her family had been killed and she was forced to flee with the others towards the northern border in hopes of finding refuge. But they had been separated when they encountered a blizzard.
Annette looked up suddenly, her eyes wide with horror. She heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter approaching. Cursing, she grabbed a handful of snow and threw it over the fire, which went out at once. Stuffing the protein bar in her mouth, she grabbed her bag and fled from the building. She looked around frantically, searching for a place to hide. The helicopter grew louder. She could see the search lights moving through the buildings and the streets, looking for rebels.
Turning, she saw a small shed, it's door handing by a hinge. She threw herself inside and yanked the door closed as much as she could. She was just in time. She huddled in a corner as the searchlight went over the shed. Hardly daring to breathe, Annette peaked through an opening and saw the helicopter heading south, the large red logo slashed on the side of the new regime. Sighing with relief, she waited until she could no longer hear it, then opened the shed and walked through the abandoned town towards the northern border, hoping to not only find the others, but safety and salvation.
Tuesday, 14 February 2017
Wordbound February 8 Prompt: The Porcelain Sisters
Prompt: Something gets broken beyond repair
In an antique stop off Beach Street
lived two porcelain dolls, the sisters Christina and Adele. They sat in the
window overlooking the street, watching as little girls pointed and stared,
asking their mothers to purchase them. But always, the mothers shook their
heads and pushed the girls along. And so for years, the sister dolls stared out
the windows at little girls and mothers, in an old antique stop off Beach
Street.
The night however, was a different
story.
“Christina, wake up,” Adele whispered as
the candles were extinguished and the shop door closed. “The old man’s gone. It’s
time for some fun.”
Christina blinked and turned to her
sister, a smile forming on her face.
“Will today be the day you approach the
wooden soldiers?” she asked slyly. Adele blushed, as much as a porcelain doll
could.
“That’s not what I meant,” she said
angrily. “I meant we should go visit the bears again.”
“I don’t know if they’ll let us play
with their children again,” Christina said. “Not after what happened last time.”
“Doesn’t hurt to try. Let’s go!” Before
Christina could protest, Adele was already climbing down the shelves in the
window to the shop floor.
“Wait for me!” Adele scrambled after her
sister and followed her to the counter, where a cottage stood behind protective
glass. There were two large porcelain bears, looking on as their three cubs
danced and played with each other. Upon seeing the sisters however, they came
forward in defense.
“Not again sisters,” the mother bear
said, grabbing one of her cubs and placing him behind her. “You nearly broke
our children last time with your mischievousness.”
“But they didn’t break,” Adele replied. “Anyways,
that slide’s been sold. We just wanted to play with them right here. You can
watch us if you want.”
“I think that might be all right,” the
father bear said, looking towards the mother bear. She shook her head.
“No, I can’t risk it,” she said. “You’ll
have to find some other figurines to play with and get into trouble.”
“Please mom?” one of the cubs asked,
rising up on her hind legs. “I like playing with Adele and Christina.”
“My word is final,” her mother replied.
Looking upset, the bears turned to their father.
“Listen to your mother children,” he
said. Adele and Christina walked away amidst protests from the bear
cubs.
“Told you they wouldn’t let us play with
them,” Christina said.
“Shut it,” Adele answered looking cross.
“Do you think anyone else will want to play, or will those bears spread rumors
about us?”
“Well there is that dog that came in a
few days ago,” Christina replied. “We could see what he’s up to.”
“I suppose, though I prefer cats.” The
sisters giggled and made their way towards another counter. Before they had
reached it however, a strange noise made them stop.
“What was that?” Christina asked,
sounding frightened.
“It came from the door,” Adele said,
pointing towards the shop entrance. “Do you think the old man has come back?”
“If it was him, he would have come in
already,” Christina said. The noise came again, a creaking sound and the door
shuddered.
“Hide!” Adele grabbed her sister and
they ducked behind a broom that was hidden in a corner. With a bang, the door
burst open. A man stood there, and it wasn’t anyone the sisters recognized. He
was dressed in black and carried a large sack. He walked into the shop and
looked around. Spotting one of the counters, he walked towards it and stooped
down. The sisters saw a grin spread on his face. He reached forward and smashed the glass. They winced at the noise.
“He’s taking the bears!” Adele whispered
as the man began to place the bears gingerly into his sack. “We have to stop
him!”
“Adele, don’t!” Christina reached to
grab her sister’s arm, pulling her back. “The humans can’t know about us!”
“I don’t care, he’s taking our friends!”
Adele wrenched herself free and ran towards the counter, climbing up to the
top. Christina followed her, making sure the man wasn’t looking in their
direction. As she climbed to the top of the counter, she gasped as Adele leaped onto the man’s arm and climbed up.
“What the hell?” The man looked down at
the porcelain doll scaling his arm, then cried out as it grabbed his nose.
“Put them back!” Adele cried, squeezing
the man’s nose as hard as she could. “Put back the bears! They’re our friends!”
“Get off me!” The man reached up and
yanked Adele away. The doll struggled in his grasp. The man stared at the doll
for a moment, then lifted her up and threw her towards the ground.
“Adele!” Christina watched in horror as
her sister plummeted to the ground. With a loud smash, she broke into a hundred
pieces. Christina broke into sobs, falling to her knees. The noise caught the
attention of the thief, who walked towards the other porcelain doll.
“Huh,” he said. “There was two of them.
Too bad. I could have made a lot of money.” Shrugging, he grabbed the sobbing
doll and hurled her towards the ground to join her sister. Looking up, he
spotted the register and headed towards it.
The next morning, the old man who owned
the shop walked in to see the carnage the thief had caused the night before. He
walked towards the empty register and felt a crunch beneath his foot. Looking
down, he saw the smashed porcelain and immediately looked towards the window
where there was a gap in figurines. Sighing, he got the broom and dustpan and
began to sweep the pieces up, knowing the sisters were broken beyond repair.
There is an antique store off Beach
Street, where two porcelain dolls once lived. Girls pass by the shop and sigh
with disappointment, telling their mothers that the dolls must have been sold.
Time passes by, and still the shopkeeper has not filled the space where the
sisters once stood.
Saturday, 4 February 2017
Wordbound Wednesday, February 1
What is something you're embarrassed to admit you're written?
Okay, so in my defense, I've since rewritten the story, but I had no idea that it was as bad as it was until I looked at it again over ten years later.
So when I was 15, my imagination was running wild. I loved Lord of the Rings, had a knack for fanfiction, and was writing unfinished stories based on dreams that I had been having. I was also in an English class that was more advanced than the two AP classes I would be taking in the next two years. There was a lot of analysis and writing in that class. Finally, we got an assignment that I was happy to write. Creative Writing! I was so excited to come up with a great original idea and then write it down! Unfortunately there was a drawback. I had to complete diagrams, follow rules, and use these assigned $10 words throughout my story. I had to highlight them as well. I'm thinking, are you kidding me?! This was my time to shine! I want to write this my way! But whatever, I made it work and set to work writing a story about a prophecy telling of a girl who could control the four elements in order to return something called the Diamond Staff that was presented by God, helped by a dragon, a sorceress, and an elf. Being the good Catholic girl that I was and on my way to being confirmed, it was HEAVILY influenced by religion. But I did well, got my A, and moved on.
Flash forward to last September when I decided to do my personal occupation presentation on NaNoWriMo and my love of writing. I decided that, in a spur of the moment insanity, that I would take the story I had written so long ago and rewrite it. So I found my portfolio with all of my English assignments in it and took a look at the story.
Oh. Dear. God. In, Heaven.
It's bad. Super bad. The ULTIMATE bad. How did I write this and get an A?!?!?! Naturally, I got to work and the rewrite was so much better. Took out the religion aspect and did what I wanted to do. I have to say it's much better than the original. But ugh, it's so embarrassing! Here's some extra special lines.
"Her hair was pure blonde and her skin was of fresh milk. She was a sight indeed." *gag* Someone recently watched The Addams Family Values.
"But it can't be me, I'm just an orphan street rat." And you can call me Aladdin...make it stop please.
"The Lord will provide Nichalia," said Christana. "You may have forgotten, but wizards have also been known to be blessed by God, and I have been known to give a few prophecies myself." Yes, just slam that Catholic influence in there why don't you?
Oh and there's that time the "pure soul", whatever that is, transformed into an angel and killed the antagonist for them, and then showed up at the end "shining more brightly than ever". Good God, I want to throw up.
"It was the best of times, it was the best of times." I'm now dead from embarrassment and writing this from my grave.
There's no way I'm rewriting the entire transcript for here, since my fingers might dissolve into shame, but I reiterate, HOW DID I GET AN A ON THIS?!?! I still can't believe that I put this out there and thought that it was good. I'm thankful now that I'm older, wiser, and know how to at least write decently. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go hide this story from the world forever.
P.S. If anyone was wondering, I did really well on the rewrite and my presentation, and got a lot of compliments from my classmates. Plus gained an amazingly talented friend from my class who has given me more writing music. Score!
Okay, so in my defense, I've since rewritten the story, but I had no idea that it was as bad as it was until I looked at it again over ten years later.
So when I was 15, my imagination was running wild. I loved Lord of the Rings, had a knack for fanfiction, and was writing unfinished stories based on dreams that I had been having. I was also in an English class that was more advanced than the two AP classes I would be taking in the next two years. There was a lot of analysis and writing in that class. Finally, we got an assignment that I was happy to write. Creative Writing! I was so excited to come up with a great original idea and then write it down! Unfortunately there was a drawback. I had to complete diagrams, follow rules, and use these assigned $10 words throughout my story. I had to highlight them as well. I'm thinking, are you kidding me?! This was my time to shine! I want to write this my way! But whatever, I made it work and set to work writing a story about a prophecy telling of a girl who could control the four elements in order to return something called the Diamond Staff that was presented by God, helped by a dragon, a sorceress, and an elf. Being the good Catholic girl that I was and on my way to being confirmed, it was HEAVILY influenced by religion. But I did well, got my A, and moved on.
Flash forward to last September when I decided to do my personal occupation presentation on NaNoWriMo and my love of writing. I decided that, in a spur of the moment insanity, that I would take the story I had written so long ago and rewrite it. So I found my portfolio with all of my English assignments in it and took a look at the story.
Oh. Dear. God. In, Heaven.
It's bad. Super bad. The ULTIMATE bad. How did I write this and get an A?!?!?! Naturally, I got to work and the rewrite was so much better. Took out the religion aspect and did what I wanted to do. I have to say it's much better than the original. But ugh, it's so embarrassing! Here's some extra special lines.
"Her hair was pure blonde and her skin was of fresh milk. She was a sight indeed." *gag* Someone recently watched The Addams Family Values.
"But it can't be me, I'm just an orphan street rat." And you can call me Aladdin...make it stop please.
"The Lord will provide Nichalia," said Christana. "You may have forgotten, but wizards have also been known to be blessed by God, and I have been known to give a few prophecies myself." Yes, just slam that Catholic influence in there why don't you?
Oh and there's that time the "pure soul", whatever that is, transformed into an angel and killed the antagonist for them, and then showed up at the end "shining more brightly than ever". Good God, I want to throw up.
"It was the best of times, it was the best of times." I'm now dead from embarrassment and writing this from my grave.
There's no way I'm rewriting the entire transcript for here, since my fingers might dissolve into shame, but I reiterate, HOW DID I GET AN A ON THIS?!?! I still can't believe that I put this out there and thought that it was good. I'm thankful now that I'm older, wiser, and know how to at least write decently. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go hide this story from the world forever.
P.S. If anyone was wondering, I did really well on the rewrite and my presentation, and got a lot of compliments from my classmates. Plus gained an amazingly talented friend from my class who has given me more writing music. Score!
Wednesday, 25 January 2017
Wordbound Wednesday, January 25
What is your favorite word? Write a scene around that word.
He sat one the steps, watching impatiently as the mail truck slowly crept up the street towards his house. He had been waiting for days and finally his package was about to arrive. His toes curled in anticipation.
For weeks, Aiden had been scouring the internet for the perfect pair of sunglasses. All the pairs he had bought in the stores had been broken, stepped on, sat on, thrown out the window by his crazy ex-girlfriend...Aiden scowled at the thought. That had been his favorite pair. But he had finally found the perfect ones. They were light but durable, stylish yet affordable. Plus they came with a free gift of sunscreen. Perfect for a day at the beach, scoping out the hot girls in their bikinis.
The mail truck stopped and Aiden groaned in frustration. He rolled his eyes when he saw the postman get out of the truck, a small package in hand. He sighed, hanging his head. Aiden never received packages. He usually didn't have enough money to afford to order anything to receive in a package. His roommates received packages all the time. Well now it was his turn.
The postman returned to his truck and started to move forward again. Aiden stood up and walked down the sidewalk to meet him.
"How's it goin'?" he asked.
"Just fine," the postman answered, ruffling through the enormous stack of mail. He picked out a stack and handed it to Aiden.
"Any packages today?" Aiden asked. The postman shook his head.
"Not today, sorry." He put the truck in drive and moved on down the street. Aiden stood there frozen, the stack of mail hanging limply from his hand.
How could this be? According to Amazon, his package should have arrived today. He walked back to his front step and sat down, pulling out his phone. Anger seethed inside of him. Why wasn't his package here? It was supposed to be here, it should be here! He flicked through Amazon, looking for the page where it said that his package had been delivered. He reached it and scanned through the message. His heart sank when he saw three letters.
UPS, to be delivered the next day before 8 pm.
Sighing, Aiden put his phone away, picked up the mail, and headed back inside. It seemed that the only package he would be holding was the one he held between his legs every night.
He sat one the steps, watching impatiently as the mail truck slowly crept up the street towards his house. He had been waiting for days and finally his package was about to arrive. His toes curled in anticipation.
For weeks, Aiden had been scouring the internet for the perfect pair of sunglasses. All the pairs he had bought in the stores had been broken, stepped on, sat on, thrown out the window by his crazy ex-girlfriend...Aiden scowled at the thought. That had been his favorite pair. But he had finally found the perfect ones. They were light but durable, stylish yet affordable. Plus they came with a free gift of sunscreen. Perfect for a day at the beach, scoping out the hot girls in their bikinis.
The mail truck stopped and Aiden groaned in frustration. He rolled his eyes when he saw the postman get out of the truck, a small package in hand. He sighed, hanging his head. Aiden never received packages. He usually didn't have enough money to afford to order anything to receive in a package. His roommates received packages all the time. Well now it was his turn.
The postman returned to his truck and started to move forward again. Aiden stood up and walked down the sidewalk to meet him.
"How's it goin'?" he asked.
"Just fine," the postman answered, ruffling through the enormous stack of mail. He picked out a stack and handed it to Aiden.
"Any packages today?" Aiden asked. The postman shook his head.
"Not today, sorry." He put the truck in drive and moved on down the street. Aiden stood there frozen, the stack of mail hanging limply from his hand.
How could this be? According to Amazon, his package should have arrived today. He walked back to his front step and sat down, pulling out his phone. Anger seethed inside of him. Why wasn't his package here? It was supposed to be here, it should be here! He flicked through Amazon, looking for the page where it said that his package had been delivered. He reached it and scanned through the message. His heart sank when he saw three letters.
UPS, to be delivered the next day before 8 pm.
Sighing, Aiden put his phone away, picked up the mail, and headed back inside. It seemed that the only package he would be holding was the one he held between his legs every night.
Tuesday, 24 January 2017
An Introduction
This blog is dedicated to writing prompts from Wordbound Wednesdays. I'm going to take the prompt and turn it into something. The novel series based on an idea that's been in my head for years is going to draw to a close next November and I need some more ideas if I'm going to keep doing NaNoWriMo and keep doing what I love to do.
Big big thanks to Kristina Horner for the great idea!!!
Live every day like it's NaNo.
Big big thanks to Kristina Horner for the great idea!!!
Live every day like it's NaNo.
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