The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

I Exist!

2011-10-10T16:44:00.000-07:00

Is anyone still out there? I admit, I've been less than faithful about up-keeping this blog -- seeing as how my last post was... last November.... Now, instead of setting goals like "I'm going to post every Monday" or "I'll post soon," I'm just going to post whenever I feel like it. Nothing like setting ridiculously low goals for yourself to help you achieve them ^_^
A lot has happened between last year and now.
For starters, I'm doing a sort of "home school college." Ok, basically, I'm just working on studying whatever I feel like, since I decided against going to college. I haven't been doing my "classes" as well as I should, but I'm going to try to get back on tomorrow. My schedule looks like this:

Church Studies

English (which basically means posting here)

Writing
Guitar

Free Study

For "Free Study," I switch off between math, science, history, and surfing the net for things that interest me (I use Khan Academy for most of those classes, I love it! I believe it is the future of education.) Oh, and vlogging. If you're interested (and even if you're not), here's my latest vlog:

Doom = squee!! Seriously.

Fabulous!
♥

Hehe... sorry, distracted.

*cough*

Anyway...

As far as work goes, I have a few things in the offing.
On Saturday, we are shooting the first episode of Mom's Cooking Crisis -- an online competitive cooking show that my mother started. I'm hosting. It should be an... interesting project. I'm excited.
Also, I'm working to start up a food cart. It's going to be called The Green Burro (you can Like it on Facebook, and follow on twitter (@Green_Burro)!) I'm going to be selling green chili burros and bean burros. I think it will be good preparation for Frabjous Delights -- which is the project I'm really excited about.

Frabjous Delights is a project Canada and I came up with together on the LONG car-ride to Disneyland (epicly awesome trip, by the way). It is going to be a hot-cocoa shop, designed with artists in mind (ok, mainly writers, but actors, musicians, and painters as well). We'll serve baked awesomes (as apposed to baked goods), and have a super-chill atmosphere so people will want to come and just hang out. We're thinking of setting up in Provo. I'm super psyched!

It's October, which can only mean one thing (ok, that's a lie -- it means lots of things, like that autumn has officially arrived (in theory), and Halloween is coming, and it's almost Professor Flitwick's birthday... but bear with me) and that is: It's time to prepare for NaNoWriMo!!!
Ok, so I lost NaNo last year, and it was tragic, but I AM GOING TO WIN THIS YEAR! My story is super epic, and I'm really excited (though my main character is giving me a bit of difficulty -- he can't decide who he wants to be. It's driving me crazy.) I've still got plenty of time to prepare, and I'm trying to keep working on my current novel until NaNo starts.
My current novel is about a witch living in a magic community (I think in Massachusetts, but that may actually never be relevant to the plot). I'm excited about it, but it's moving super slow, and I'm a little on the stuck side, so I'll be grateful for NaNo to give me an excuse to take a break.
In SOLAB!A on Friday we all showed up as our main characters! It was SO much fun! ^_^ Canada and I discovered that our characters have actually been pen-pals for ages (which developed because we happened to be wearing the same ring... which is REALLY strange, considering that neither of us knew that the other had a ring like that... and what are the odds of your friend having the same ring as you anyway? Ok, hers is blue and mine is purple, but otherwise they're identical. WEIRD!) We played a ton of get-to-know-you games, and it was great. Alyssa's character is a 54 year old man... he fit in really well, considering that the rest of us were girls under 19. If only Andrea/Rikhart had been there -- he is a teenager, but at least he's a guy.
It was way fun -- except that Phyllida (my main character) decided she wanted to wear her hair ratted, since that's what witches do, and I only just got the tangles out today!
Our next SOLAB!A meeting I think we'll be talking about our NaNo novels (or what they are going to do if they're not doing NaNo). Our meetings will be pretty chill until November's over, because I'm not working on anything besides NaNoWriMo until then.
I'm WAY excited about it!

Halloween IS coming (actually before NaNo). I think I'm going to go as a witch this year... which isn't exceptionally geeky, but I've just felt in a witchy mood. And I think we need as many "hot" witches (meaning witches who don't have warts and humps and all that sort of thing) as we can get. I can't help but get frustrated at all the "ugly" witches. Some of us take that personally!

Oh! I just started participating in a tutoring program -- it's SO fun! Every Tuesday and Thursday I get to go read with a little girl, and work with her on her fluency and retention and that sort of thing. It's really great. She doesn't like reading, but I think I got her addicted to Peter Rabbit ^_^ I'm hoping to be able to help her realize that reading is awesome.
Public schools make me so mad, because they try to get kids to love reading, but then they give them boring books. The girl I'm with and I have already had four books -- and three of them were super dull and educational. There was one on the skeleton, one on bats, and one on the history of Hawaii. Topics that are interesting if you happen to want to learn about them, but not fun casual reading. It would have taken them ten seconds to ask this little girl what kind of books she was looking for. I did -- she wants comedies, with a bit of action in them. How hard is that? Grr.
Ok, I'm over it.

I should get to sleep if I'm going to be up at 6:30 to go tutor. I'm not making any promises that I'll post soon, but I will at least think about it ^_^

Yours, at least for now,
♥The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read."

--Groucho Marx

rolls eyes

2011-03-22T13:58:00.000-07:00

I've started another blog... sigh. Please, just bear with me. This will actually be useful for those of you who only follow my blog for the sake of the writing and prompts and things -- those of you who couldn't care less about what I'm actually up to in my life. The blog I've started is simply for posting that stuff -- a writing prompt every day. The blog is: http://www.katesnovelidea.blogspot.com/. Please check it out and Follow!

I shall try to update this blog once a week with what I'm actually doing in my life... but we've seen how well that works out.

Please visit Kate's Novel Idea!

Visit Canada!

2011-02-04T23:34:00.000-08:00

So... it's been ages since I've posted, but I promise I will for real on Monday. As for today, I just want to send you to Canada's blog! It's brilliant, and I think you should go there. Yes.

If you want to know who Canada is (because, somehow, you don't know?), then watch this!

Love you lots!
The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

I can only think of one thing greater than being happy and that is to help another to be happy, too.

NaNoWriMo, Day 5 -- FAIL

2010-11-06T01:34:00.000-07:00

I'm only coming on to report that I am 800 words behind in my NaNo stats. (I suppose that if I had skipped blogging, and posted this instead, I would now only be 712 words behind... but oh well.)
I was working on a different project, and just never got around to NaNo. I feel like a total failure. But I promise I will make it up tomorrow! Yay!

Failtastically,
The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

If you know you are going to fail, then fail gloriously!

NaNoWriMo, Day 4

2010-11-04T21:03:00.000-07:00

Word goal: 6,667
Words: 7,570

Pages: 14

Words to go: 42,430

Late nights: unbelievably, still only one

Pandora Station: Jack Johnson

Dead Bodies: None ... yet

Mysterious Conversations: 3

Games of Bridge: 6

Skewering Icicles: 1

Crazy Aunts: 2

Conversations Between Verena and Chadwick going something like this "I'm going to stop by and see him later today," said Verena, "Make sure he really is ok."
"You'd do better to stay away."
"And you'd do better to get out of my house." Verena pointed to the door, "Now."
"Don't think I'm through with you," said Chadwick, making his way out the door.

Verena slammed it good behind him. "This could cause problems," she said to herself.: All of them.

More random stats. Does anyone actually know how to play bridge? I do not.

NaNo!

♥The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.

NaNoWriMo, Day 3

2010-11-03T14:12:00.000-07:00

Word goal: 5,000
Words: 5,342
Pages: 10
Words to go: 44,658

Late nights: only 1 (so far)

Listens to Owl City's Ocean's Eyes: 9

Dead Bodies: None ... yet

Mysterious Darkness: 1

Elfish prophecies: 1

Times I've used the word "however": 7

Crazy Aunts: 2

First line: "They say this place is cursed," said a voice from nowhere, its whisper sounding loud in the silence of the forest.

So... there's my list of random facts today. I've given all my words to NaNoWriMo, so you're not getting a real blog post. However, I'm having a ton of fun ^_^ Hooray for NaNoWriMo -- literary abandon, totaly craziness!

NaNoNaNoNaNoNaNoNaNoNaNo

♥The Hot Girl in the NaNoWriMo

If my doctor told me I had only six minutes to live, I’d type a little faster.

NaNoWriMo Begins and I Talk About Stuff

2010-11-02T22:52:00.001-07:00

The blog layout has been updated, and I really like this background. I may actually keep it permanently... but I doubt it. Changing it is just too much fun, and I'm a bit schizophrenic when it comes to what I like. Oh, and I technically did post yesterday -- I did an "About Me" page (if you have any interest, you can check it out by clicking the "About" button at the top of the page). I know you don't care, but I rather enjoy being able to say I blog every day.

It is NaNoWriMo! The word count goal for day 2 is 3,334. I've written 3,517, which puts me just ahead of schedule. This is such an exciting way to write -- just spitting the words out. I feel like I'm accessing ideas I wouldn't have tapped into if I hadn't been writing a thousand words per hour (that's wph). So far, I have no idea what's happening. There was an elfish prophecy thing about a Darkness entering the estate. I know that Algie's going to go missing because of this "Darkness," but I have no idea why or how or even what this Darkness is. I wish elves would be more specific.
Algie is a total sweetie! It's strange, because my heroes are usually bounty hunters, gamblers, even assassins -- and now I have the nicest guy in the history of ever. He does make me rather happy. And, luckily, I do have Verena as my heroine -- she is, as I said before, a con artist. There are plenty of skeletons for me to pull out of her closet. Oh, and I realized that she is not Algie's love interest -- she has someone else. I'm not even sure Algie gets a love interest, but I am working on it. Then I have Chadwick. He's annoying -- that's all I have to say about him right now.

My Halloween costume was pretty much amazing -- but we did not get any good pictures. I am going to get all dressed up again probably sometime this week so I will have pictures to post. It's time to swap my blog picture.
I did wear my costume to the Young Women's Halloween party, but then I only stayed for a few minutes (I did get there an hour late because of Drama... and I don't think the party went very well...).
SOLAB!A's party was somewhat unexciting -- but in a nice sort of way. We all wore our costumes, and just hung out, ate pizza, and watched Watcher in the Woods -- and, of course, screamed all the way through the movie. The best is that the thing that made us scream the most was in a totally not scary part of the movie -- it was a pan view of a graveyard, and there was a WEEPING ANGEL STATUE!! It was truly horrifying.
Speaking of scary movies: my uncle and I watched The Blob. It was quite possibly the most boring scary movie in the history of ever. Thoroughly anti-climactic.
I also got addicted to the show Sherlock, which so far only has three episodes (mind, they are 80 minute episodes). The show is a modernization of Sherlock Holmes, and it is completely brilliant. No one -- not even Robert Downey, Jr., captured the character of Holmes as well as this show. And Watson is properly wonderful, which has never before been done in a Sherlock Holmes adaptation. I am a complete fangirl when it comes to the books, and I think this show does them credit.

I really should start wrapping this up -- I'm supposed to go take the GED tomorrow (which means waking up around 6:30 X_x). I slept through it last week, and therefore still have three tests to take. I think I may try taking all three tomorrow. Which does not sound delicious, but I've got to get them done.

I'm going to try and take this week slow. My plan is to start organizing my room -- in little pieces. Tomorrow is laundry day... which means now I have to post a video:

SOLAB!A this week is going to be really mellow as well. I think I'm done planning epic activities -- we never do what I plan anyways. So I'm going to try just chilling, and refocusing on why I started this group in the first place.
Mostly, this week is dedicated to NaNoWriMo. I'm going to win this year!

Determinedly,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.

Death's Door, Day 5

2010-10-30T22:44:00.000-07:00

So, this pretty much wins for "lamest Death's Door prompt ever", but I had to write it in a hurry to get this posted before midnight. You realize that, if I do, that means I have posted every day this week! Anyway, my plan is to post Monday, but you'll forgive me if I don't -- after all, it is the first day of NaNoWriMo! 50,000 words, here I come!

Anyway, this marks the last day of the Death's Door prompts... for now. I have 19 more doors to write about, and, besides, I think I want to continue some of them. However, like I say, for now I'm giving the Death prompts a rest (which will make my mother feel better).

But, if I'm going to get this posted before Sunday, I'd better stop chatting. Here it is:

Trembling and terrified, Susan walked towards the iron door. A bright light shone from behind it, lighting the oddly textured walls. Susan's bear feet were chilled by the granite that she stepped on, but, then she had been cold ever since ... it had happened.
Though uncertain about a lot of things that were going on, Susan knew one thing: she had to get through that door. However, it looked so very far away, and she was frightened. A part of her knew what had happened, but another, stronger, part of her was unwilling to accept it.
So Susan walked very slowly in the direction of the intimidating, other-worldy door. Now and again, she would stop in her tracks and simply gaze at it, as though willing it to go away, to change to something normal, like the door to her bedroom.
"I'm too young," she whispered, "I didn't do anything wrong. Why am I here?"
She could feel the tears threatening to fall. She wasn't sure she could make it. But she kept moving forward, step after step, holding on to what little courage was left inside her.
At last, she reached the door ... but she couldn't make herself open, or even touch, it. Frozen, rooted to the spot, she just stared.
Suddenly, her strength just failed her, and she collapsed onto the stone ground.
There was a creaking sound, like the opening of a door. Then strong arms lifted her.
"It's all right," said a man's voice, calming and soothing, "You're going to be fine."
Susan felt herself relax. She knew she could trust that voice. Everything was going to be fine.

Lamely and with excessive adjectives,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

At my age, I do what Mark Twain did. I get my daily paper, look at the obituaries page, and if I'm not there I carry on as usual. -Patrick Moore

P.S. Happy Halloween!!! (A few minutes early)

Death's Door, Day 4

2010-10-29T10:48:00.000-07:00

NaNoWriMo is in TWO DAYS!!! Ahh! I'm SO excited! I ordered a NaNo notebook (I'll post a picture once I get it), and I think I at least have the beginnings of a plot. It should be fun ^_^ It may kill me, but at least I shall be thoroughly entertained.

Here's the fourth day of the Death's Door writing prompt. I really want to continue some of these! And there are too many doors to choose from! Tomorrow is the last day... I might have to do some more later. Anyway, here's day four:

Tossing my keys and my scythe down on the kitchen table, I kicked off my shoes and threw myself down on the couch. It had been a long day of harvesting souls, and I was ready for a break.

Just as I was beginning to slip into that pleasant stupor that comes from thinking about nothing, the doorbell rang. I lay still, contemplating whether I really wanted to answer it. Then came a pounding as someone gave the door knocker a vigorous workout.

“All right, all right, I get the picture,” I grumbled, sliding off the couch and staggering, sock-footed, to the door. I had already removed my black cloak, and was wearing khaki shorts and a blue-grey T-shirt. I opened the door, hoping that whoever was on the other side was not expecting to see me in my professional capacity.

A young woman stood on my doorstep. She had a pretty face – nothing exceptional, but pretty – and long, light-brown hair. Her eyes were dark blue, and full of terror. I figured, of course, that she was terrified of me. Most people are. However, as soon as she saw me, she smiled, if nervously.

“Look, I’m sorry to be bothering you like this, but I need your help!”

“What is it?” I asked hesitantly. I’m not one to hand out favors, mostly because the favors people ask me tend to bend the rules of the universe – no, I can’t tell you about a life-after-death; no, I cannot tell you when you’re going to die; no, I cannot kill your boss until it’s his time. I steeled myself for whatever she was going to ask me, prepared to answer in the negative.

“Can I come in?”

“N- what?”

“I know, you don’t know me, but I’m being followed, and I don’t know anyone on this street. Please, let me in!”

As far as I knew, letting a strange woman into my apartment was not against any laws of the universe. It certainly wasn’t normal – but, then, considering what I did for a “living”, normal wasn’t really a part of my life.

“Um, ok.” I stepped back, and let her in, thinking, as I did so, that she was the first woman to enter this apartment since I had moved in. It was kind of a depressing thought.

“Wow, you must travel a lot!” said the woman. She was looking around in wondering awe at the things I had gathered over the years – figurines and masks and tapestries and fans, all from the most diverse places in the world. Seeing her enthusiasm made me grin – I had been surrounded by these things for years, loved each of them in turn, but had never been able to share them with anyone. “Are those actually from Japan? and this, from Egypt? Paris? China?”

“I’ve travelled all over,” I said, “For work. But I always take time out to enjoy the places I visit.”

“Wow, where do you work? I wouldn’t mind having a job like that!”

I quickly steered the conversation away from my work. It was nice, speaking with someone who didn’t know who I was.

“Are you certain you were being followed?” I asked.

My guest stiffened, and quickly went to the window. She peered cautiously out.

“Coo!” she said, quietly, “There they are!” She ducked away from the window, and I went to have a look. Three men were milling about on the street, looking about with frustrated expressions. I could tell, from experience, that they were, as they say, “packing heat.” They looked like killers – and, believe me, in my profession I’ve come across plenty of those.

“What could they want with you?” I asked. I was concerned for this strange woman who had come suddenly into my life. I felt, somehow, responsible for protecting her.

“I-I don’t know,” she said, “Are they gone?”

They weren’t. It seemed they were arguing about something. Closing the blinds, I then reached out a hand to help her to her feet. As soon as we touched, numbers flew through my head.

“Rebecca Wygraff. April 26. Twenty-three years, seven months, two days, nine hours.”

Now she was looking at me with a touch of fear. She snatched her hand away from mine.

“How did you know that?" she demanded, "Are you psychic or something?”

“What?” I realized with dismay that I had spoken aloud. “Um… yeah. It’s my only trick, though. Names and ages. After that, I can’t see anything.” This was not strictly true. At that touch, there was one more thing I knew about Rebecca Wygraff: the date and time of her death. Worse yet, it was alarmingly soon.

♥The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

I'm not afraid to die. I just don't want to be there when it happens.

Death's Door, Day 3

2010-10-28T11:41:00.000-07:00

NaNoWriMo is in THREE days (eleven hours, five minutes, and counting)!!! I'm SO excited! Mind, my characters have run off on me... they totally started their plot a week early. Hopefully I'll be able to catch up.

Anyway, this is Day 3 of the Death's Door prompts. I'm not sure if I did as well on this one. I think I could have gone somewhere if I'd continued it, but ... I got bored (never a good sign). Anyway, let me know what you think:

Mischief grinned, well, mischievously, and looked his apprentice in the eye.

"Are you ready for this?"

The apprentice was grinning, too, but a little less certainly.

"I think so," he said.

"They say 'never knock at Death's door,' I say, 'ring the doorbell and run -- she hates that!'"

"Y-yes," said the apprentice, "But what if she catches me?"

"She won't. Now get." Mischief pushed his apprentice gently in the direction of the middle door of the connecting flats.

More bravely than he felt, the apprentice climbed the stoop towards the innocent-looking magenta door. It had white trim, and there were pots of flowers beside the stair rail. Still, the mischief-in-training was filled with dread as he raised a trembling hand and rang the doorbell.

He turned and bolted.

Well, began to bolt. He had hardly made it down two steps when the door swung open.

"Freeze, right there," said a woman's voice -- cold and commanding, "If you know what's good for you, you won't move a muscle."

He didn't move. He didn't even breathe.

Death moved down the stairs until she was standing in front of him. The young mischief's first thought was a started realization that she, Death, was beautiful. Clad in tight black that showed off an excellent figure, and with a long mane of glossy black hair, she was breathtaking. Even her sharp grey eyes, which were boring into him, were gorgeous.

"Ah," she said, her lips twisting into a sarcastic smile, "What have we here? A little mischief? And where is your master?"

Mischief's apprentice said nothing -- mostly because he was too stunned to speak.

Death gave a curt nod. "Well, you're not a squealer, I'll give you that. I'll find him myself. You, go inside-- don't touch anything!-- I'll be back to deal with you in time."

Nodding dumbly, the apprentice stumbled into the flat. The inside was as deceptively innocent as the outside. The entryway consisted of a narrow, horizontal hallway. Against the wall in front of the apprentice was a wooden table, bearing a bowl of flowers. The hall led to a living room (which seemed kind of ironic, considering who it belonged to), which was decorated elegantly, mostly in shades of white.

Sitting himself down on the white couch that was designed for looks rather than comfort, the apprentice looked around in amazed wonder at the house belonging to Death.

Maybe it was just that he was sitting in her living room, waiting for her to return and "deal with him," but he couldn't seem to get Death out of his head. He had never met a woman with such control -- or such beauty. It occurred to him that she was over a hundred years old, whereas he was only just twenty, but physically they could not have been more than a few years apart.

For the first time since he could remember, the mischief trainee was not thinking about playing pranks or causing trouble, but about something... someone... else entirely.

Then he shook his head. He was fantasizing about Death. That was so many levels of twisted he didn't even want to think about it.

No, he would receive is lecture and then get out of there, and he wouldn't spare Death another thought.

In fact, why was he placidly sitting there, waiting for his punishment? He was a Mischief, for Rex sake! And Mischiefs did not do what they were told.

Getting to his feet, Mischief's apprentice turned to go -- and found Death standing in the entryway.

"Did you know that, in some cultures, white is the color of mourning?" she said.

"N-no, I didn't," said the apprentice, sinking back onto the white couch.

Mischievously,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

For your information, I believe the word's meaning comes from the Latin prefix mis, meaning naughty, and chief, meaning most important, or first. First comes naughtiness, and first is best.

Death's Door, Day 2

2010-10-27T12:28:00.000-07:00

This is my second day of the Death's Door writing prompt, and I'm having a ton of fun! Personifying Death is pretty much my favorite.

AND NaNoWriMo is in four days!!! I can't believe how close it is!

Anyway, without further ado....

A dark figure slunk silently down the ally-way, slipping in and out of shadows as though avoiding the sun. It stopped in the closest spot of shade before a scarred metal door, set into the cracked, craggy rock wall.

Here, the dark figure hesitated, as though unsure if it was brave enough to go on.

After a long moment of allowing “I dare not” to wait upon “I would,” the dark figure darted forward, and right through the locked metal door.

Inside was lit only by what small amount of sunlight could squeeze through cracks under the door, and through the dark shade that covered the only window. The floor, walls, and low ceiling were all made of the same stone that the outside was made of. The only furnishings were a couple of wooden chairs, most of which were broken.

Propped up against one wall was the figure of a man, dressed in black robes, downing the contents of a bottle.

“S-Sire,” said the dark figure that had just entered. Its voice was hoarse and eerie – like the wind on Halloween night. It was a voice that brought terror … that voice that whispers in the back of your mind, bringing shivers racing down your spine and filling you with a cold sense of dread. This creature, this thing of nightmares, was for some reason kneeling in deference to the drunkard slumped on the floor, speaking as though it were scared of him.

And, in response, the form on the floor grunted.

“Sire, my day’s work is done. Fifty, dead, just as you ordered.”

“What?” the slumped man on the floor said, “Oh, yes, yes, good. Fifty dead, just as I ordered.” He began to laugh, “Just as I ordered? Just as I ordered! Fifty dead, just ‘cause I said so. Hahahahahaha!”

“Sire, you’re not well,” said the shadow, his voice heavy with concern.

“Not well?” the man repeated, taking another swig from his bottle, “I have never been better.”

“Y-yes, Sire.” The nightmare began to creep away, when another of its kind came in through the door.

“Sire!”

“Mwhat?”

“Sire, I went to where you told me – the exact time and place, and the woman wasn’t there! She’s still alive!”

“What are you talking about?” the first shadow demanded.

“I got a job this morning for a thirty eight year, seven month, four day, eight hour year old woman – she was to drown in the harbor at four twenty-two this morning… and she isn’t there!”

“Our master isn’t well,” said the first shadow, “You go back and look for her. Perhaps she will turn up.”

“You think I messed it up,” said the man on the floor.

“N-no, Master, I just….”

“You think I’m unfit, that I’m confused,” there was a dangerous hint of anger in the drunken voice of the man they called Master, “Let me tell you: I’ve been doing this job since before you were dead. I did not get it wrong!” he staggered to his feet, “I am no fool!” he raged. He lifted a chair and threw it across the room. It splintered, and fell to the floor. The man followed it, slumping on to the cold stone.

“No…” he said quietly, his voice slurring, “This is something new….”

The shadow stayed in that cold, dark room with his unconscious master through the night and well into the next day. Others came in, reported their work, took their new assignments, and were gone. But this shadow stayed on, waiting.

At last, the form on the floor groaned, rolled over, and opened its eyes. He looked like such an ordinary man, his face drawn and pale, his eyes bloodshot. No one, looking at him, would guess him to be a being of great power.

“You look like Death, sir,” said the shadow, unable to restrain himself.

“Good, that means I haven’t quite lost my touch,” said the man on the ground, his voice tight and full of pain.

“How are you feeling, sir?”

“Rubbish. Get me a drink.”

“No, sir.”

“What did you say?”

“I said no, sir. But I will make you some coffee – black, I think, sir.

“Oh, very well,” said the man, dragging himself into a sitting position with help from one of the few standing chairs.

The servant went off to fix some coffee, leaving the man alone with his slow-moving thoughts. His head hurt to the point where thinking was difficult, but something was nagging at him. Something was wrong.

“You,” he said, addressing the shadow who had just returned with his coffee, “Something happened last night, didn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”
“Something’s wrong.”
“Your coffee, Sire.”
“What? Oh, yes, my coffee.” He quickly drained the steaming cup, then gave a spluttering cough, “What’s in this?”

“Something I used to drink after I had had a bender, my lord. Back when I was alive.”

“It’s awful.”

“But you will find, sir, that it makes the head feel smaller.”

He had to admit that, after the initial shock, he did feel better, and his head undeniably felt smaller.

“Now, last night we… wait. I know what it is.”

“Sire?”

“Someone isn’t dead!”

“Sire, perhaps you simply got the time wrong. I know it isn’t my place, sir, but everyone makes mistakes.”

“You’d better ruddy well know it’s not your place. I didn’t make a mistake. I can feel it now… someone is alive who shouldn’t be. And I know what needs to be done.”

“Sire?”

Getting to his feet, Death straightened out his robes.

“I’m going after her myself.”

I love you to Death!

♥The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

Nate: I'm a functioning alcoholic. Focus less on the alcoholic... celebrate the functioning.

Door, Day 1

2010-10-26T13:33:00.000-07:00

NaNoWriMo is in FIVE days! I'm SO psyched! Until it starts, I'll be doing a writing prompt every day:

Raising her hand to knock on the door before her, Jessica froze, unable to believe what she was doing. The door looked quite ordinary, its dark-wood paneling a poor match to the light wood of the stair railing which, in turn, did not match the lodge-style wood of the picture frames on the wall. This door could lead to any apartment – to the home of any ordinary person. Who it did belong to was almost too frightening to think about.

As Jessica stood, hesitating, the door opened. Framed in the doorway was a very average-looking man, dressed in blue jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. His hair was an ordinary shade of brown, his eyes a friendly blue. Jessica stood, rooted to the spot, staring at him.

The man stepped forward, nearly knocking into Jessica.

“Oh, I beg your pardon,” he said, his voice faintly accented but in an accent Jessica had never heard before, “I was just on my way out.”

Unable to speak, Jessica merely gaped.

“I’m on my way to an appointment, but I have a minute. What was it you wanted?” the man asked kindly.

“I- I-”

A sudden look of comprehension crossed the very average face of the man standing in the rather average doorway of an extremely average apartment.

“You know who I am.”

Jessica nodded mutely.

“You’d better come in.”

“I couldn’t possibly!” Jessica burst.

“Ah, you do speak,” he smiled, “Come along, there’s nothing to fear. I’ll make some tea.”

“But, y-your appointment?”

“Is not the kind you must be thinking of. Believe me, it will wait. Come on. I’ll make some tea.”

The inside of the apartment was neat and simple. The color scheme consisted of muted greens and browns, and the furnishings were sparse. The sitting room consisted of one comfortable couch and a few chairs. Most of the room consisted of bookshelves, which were full to the bursting point of all manner of books.

“Have a seat,” the man said, then went and busied himself in the adjoining kitchen. This gave Jessica time to think. It occurred to her that what she was doing was completely insane. However, she had gotten this far – she was intent on getting done what she had come to do.

Bearing a steaming pot of tea, the man entered the living room, placed the pot on the coffee table, and settled himself into a chair. Lacing his fingers together, he said:

“Now, why don’t you tell me what this is about?”

Jessica struggled to find her words. What finally came out was: “This isn’t what I expected Death’s house to look like.”

Death laughed – a friendly sort of laugh, the kind that puts you at ease and makes you want to laugh along.

“You know, I get that a lot,” he said, “But I figure there’s no need to surround myself with darkness just because that’s what is expected. Now, that out of the way, what is it you’re looking for? Contact with a passed family member? Do you want to know if someone is dead or just missing? Confirmation of a life-after-death?”

“No.” said Jessica.

“Then what? I am happy to oblige if I can.”

“Do you know who Jackson Howie is?”

“Yes, of course. Jackson Howie – born 27 years, 5 months, 18 days, and five hours ago.”

“That’s him,” said Jessica.

“Well, he’s still alive,” said Death.

“Can you change that?” asked Jessica.

Death, who had just been pouring himself a cup of tea, sloshed some over the table at these words.

“What?”

“I have been trying to kill Jackson Howie for more than a year now, and he just won’t die. So I need your help.”

Death’s kind blue eyes took in Jessica’s light brown pony-tale, plain jeans and T-Shirt, and large brown eyes.

“You look like such a kind young women,” he said, a bit sadly.

Gesturing around at the brightly lit room, Jessica smiled.

“Looks can be deceiving.”

My plan is to write about Death's Door every day, using a different picture each time. This idea is adapted from a writing prompt found on Dragon Writing Prompts.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

♥The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

Don't knock at Death's door -- ring the doorbell and run, he hates that.

Life

2010-10-25T11:38:00.000-07:00

Time passes more slowly than we can keep track of. Perhaps I could keep track of it better if I blogged more frequently, but I guess we'll never know.

A lot has happened since last time I posted. I have been out of school, which has been positively brilliant. I honestly cannot express how amazing it is. Not being pulled down by the confines of public education, I finally feel as though my life is my own.
Mind, all good things must come to an end -- but hopefully even as I begin classes at the start of this next year, I will be able to maintain that sense of control. It's been great -- I've started making "Lists of Things to do Today" and realized that -- even when the list says "clean room" or "exercise for 30 minutes" -- they are things I want to do, not things I have to do. I don't have to do anything.

It is completely beyond my comprehension that, within the next couple of months, I will be starting college. Taking the first of the GED tests made it all really hit me. Talk about time moving quickly! it's going past like the scenery out the window of an express train, and no way of stopping it. Not that I want to stop it -- are you kidding? I meant it when I said my life finally feels like my own. Things are just getting started: I'm working on my novel with the intent to publish, my podcast is just getting to its feet and taking its first hesitant steps, and I'm about to embark on a slightly crazy business venture. Best of all: For the first time in seven years, I feel well. I have energy, enthusiasm, and I actually want to get out of bed (well, not until eleven, but it's still an improvement.) Right now, actually, I'm sick -- but I still feel better than I have since I was ten.

So, life is going well -- things are still a bit rocky, but we're headed in the right direction.

The best of it: NaNoWriMo is in SIX days! Oh! video time!

I'm SO excited! My characters are completely bonkers -- and they're soon going to make me the same way. All I have is Lord Algernon ("Algie") of Carinon, who is a bit stiff, but totally loveable, and Verena, who is (I think) a con-artist, whose name means "truth" (the irony of that made me laugh). Oh, and, this morning, I met Algie's best friend, Chadwick, who is a knight and a total flirt. I don't know much else about him yet. Speaking of total flirts, Verena's been hitting on some guy from the NaNo Forums -- I think they've got a date. I love having my Imaginary Friends talk with other people's Imaginary Friends! Anyway, this November should be quite the adventure.

As for my novel I'm supposed to be getting ready for publishing... sigh. It's going -- just REALLY slowly. I did a couple read-throughs, as well as some character sheets for ONE character. Now I'm working on Randolph Harris -- which is proving difficult, since he's supposed to be a total jerk, but he's positively sweet to me. I just don't know what to do with him. Despite these difficulties, I am enjoying editing -- though I will definitely appreciate the NaNo break.

This week, I have a Halloween party in Young Women's, which should be interesting, since I'm supposed to be in charge and I have no idea what's going on. I do know we are going to have a costume contest, and my costume is AMAZING!

Wednesday, I'm taking the Science and History portions of the GED. I'm not too stressed, since the English ones were ridiculously easy... but English is my subject. Ok, I'm a little stressed.

SOLAB!A is doing a Halloween party on Friday ... another Halloween party I've planned and know nothing about. Huh. I wonder how the other members would feel about participating in my annual reading of Macbeth....

Speaking of Macbeth: rehearsals are crazy, but it's great to be involved in Drama again. Last Saturday, all the Macbeths and Lady Macs met up to discuss characters and practice our scenes. It was a ton of fun -- and kind of hilarious. 4 out of 5 of the Macbeths were sick, and I'm pretty sure we got the other one sick as well. We've got rehearsal Tuesday and Thursday, and all day Saturday. I actually love Saturday rehearsals -- but we're supposed to be celebrating Halloween! Oh well -- I suppose reading through The Scottish Play is as good a' celebration of All Hallow's Eve as any.

Happy Halloween!

Yours Sincerely,

Lady Macbeth

Fair is foul and foul is fair

Hover through the fog and filthy air.

Titles

2010-07-31T17:12:00.000-07:00

SoNoWriMo begins Monday! I'm excited ^-^ I have a VERY vague idea of what my story is about. Basically, all I know is it's about lies. Which is fun. However, for some reason, I've been knocking about titles. Which do you think is the best?

To Thine Own Self be True
Lies
The Price of Lies
Truth and Lies
The Price of Truth
Liars
This Above All

In the Beginning...

2010-07-31T16:59:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about SoNoWriMo lately, so I haven't done a ton of writing, just plotting. But I have a couple first lines/pages I would like to share:

~"That was murder."
"Yes, I know."
"I am not squeamish with that sort of thing, but answer me this: Why?"
"I had no choice."
"There is always a choice. Tell me, why is Allen H. Ques dead?"
"Knife in the heart does taht. It isn't good for the health."
"You are very amusing. Answer the question."
"He was getting too close."
"Then you should have brought him to me."
"It was nothing I couldn't handle."
"People notice when a man ends up dead. Especially our friend Mr. Ques. We cannot afford to be noticed, especially now."
"They're not gonna' trace it back to us."~

~I spend so much time locked in prison cells, you would think I was a criminal. I'm not -- I just have a boss with a twisted sense of humor.~

~Having never been given a name, I cannot introduce myself to you. We shall have to simply skip introudctions and move right on to the part where I tell you I did not deserve to be shot.~

~The skies were on fire the day Dianne Jones was born. You would think that would have been warning enough.~

~"Do you have the courage to enter the storm?"
"I have courage enough to do what must be done."~

~There is no headstone on my grave. I know why they left it unmarked, but it was quite a nuisance. I arrived on the other side without a nametag.~

Ok, that's all. I'll post updates about SoNo -- I'm excited!

Too impatient to finish anyt

♥The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop♥

In the beginning, there was nothing -- then God said: "Let there be light." and there was still nothing, but now you could see it!

Writing, Movies, Geekdom, more Writing

2010-07-29T14:18:00.000-07:00

I’m just going to pretend it’s Monday. Yay! Happy Monday!
I should really stop expecting myself to blog every day.

I did my best to be exciting this week. Saturday at 9 o’ clock (p.m., of course – nothing but sleep happens at 9 a.m.) my friend Angel asked me to go to a carnival with her. Usually, I don’t do anything on Saturdays, but I hadn’t seen Angel in forever, so I went. We rode a “rollercoaster” that was just a big loop, and it would spin you around and around and around, and then stop you, hanging up-side-down. The entire time, Angel was screaming: “I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!” It was kind of hilarious. What was less hilarious is that I got really sick, having eaten nothing but nachos for dinner (not my brightest move, but I hadn’t known I was going to a carnival – it was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing). We also ran into Brek (well, technically, Brek ran into me – it hurt), my old pirate crew’s navigator. It was great to see her – made me miss sixth grade.

On Sunday we went to my grandma’s, where I got my fellow-Whovian cousin addicted to DDO (just one more step in making him as much of a geek as I am!). I am officially calling him “Drkbeast,” which is his screen name, mostly because I think it’s funny. Drkbeast, my uncle, and I played DDO a ton while I was there – it was awesome! I LOVE that game ^_^ My name’s Karrinia, and I play in Argonessen – you should join me sometime ^_^

One of the nights, we all met up to go to a movie. Everyone else went to Despicable Me, but Ta, Né, and I went to Inception. It was brilliant – though the ambiguous ending kind of bothers me. In my mind, there was only one way it could end... Well, only one way it should end. The annoying thing is, I can see it both ways, and I tend to lean towards the one I don’t like. I just realized that this is all very cryptic if you haven’t seen Inception. I don't want to give anything away, but I will say that it was great high-action (lots of explosions, my favorite ^_^), and a dizzying story that keeps you thinking 'till the end (and long after you've left the theater). I would highly recommend it – indeed, I want to see it again.

Wow – Sunday is August! Seriously, where has all the time gone? It’s ridiculous! Heh... I was thinking the other day about all my past First Days of School. This one’s going to be interesting. I plan on writing all day without talking to anyone. Maybe I’ll stay in my pyjamas, or maybe I’ll go out to lunch at two in the afternoon. I really do think I’ll spend the day writing, though, I have A LOT of writing to do this August.
SOLAB!A is doing our own version of NaNoWriMo, I’m calling it SoNoWriMo. 50,000 words in August – since they’ll all be in school in November. I have a very, VERY vague idea about my story... something to do with a locket, a key, a magic portal, and a dude who’s stranded on a barren island. Maybe. I went through my giant box of ideas yesterday, but I’m still not sure what I’m going to write. Ah well – that’s why I’m a Discovery writer.

Kendra and I are coming up with a story together. I am WAY excited. There is a band of female thieves – led by a one-handed thief named Tatiana (one-handed because she got caught. Once.) They have captured the crown prince, but they don’t know it, they just think he’s some rich guy. The prince (named Collin, but going by Kevin), is having a bad week all together. Before he was captured, he and his family were chased from the castle, and now, for all he knows, the rest of his family could be dead. And he’s learning that none of the people would care, since his parents were pretty rubbish as leaders. There’s also this ♥AWESOME♥ thief named ♥Bertram♥ bopping around, pestering them when the mood strikes, but we don’t know a lot about him yet. We just kind of love him.
Ugh, I hate having to wait until I can see Kendra to work on our stories. It is very frustrating. Forget flying cars, we need to figure out teleports!

Psych is back! I feel like every episode this season has been better than the one before it -- and the last episode made me happy. "I still have Jif in my ear." ^_^ I'm really glad it's back, I had almost given up on it. I did NOT spot the pineapple, but I never do. Oh, and Lassy's happy dance was BRILLIANT ^_^

Anyway, I’m off to try to come up with something brilliant for SoNoWriMo! Cheerio!

With love and lots of chocolate,
The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

They went to sleep under the stars, which the math teachers would count, the astronomy teachers would measure, and the Literature teachers would name. The geography teachers got lost in the woods and fell into bear traps.

Dead People at 2 a.m.

2010-07-23T11:26:00.000-07:00

For starters: No, the picture has nothing to do with anything. But I couldn't find a picture for this post, and it's MY blog, I can have a picture of David Tennant if I want to ♥ ♥

Anyway, I am officially out of episodes of Sonny with a Chance ... I do not want to talk about how many episodes I've watched.... Anyways, being out of episodes meant I had nothing to do at one o' clock this morning, so I decided to do some writing. So, yes, one a.m. writing is thus:

Prompt: Your character walks into the kitchen at the end of the day and finds something on the table that isn't supposed to be there.

It had been a long day. Long and tedious and full of complaining clients. All I wanted to do was settle down at my kitchen table with my McDonald's salad and the radio on.
However, as soon as I entered my kitchen, I knew I would not be eating at that table tonight ... or possibly ever again.
Sprawled over the expensive stained wood was what I could only devise to be a dead body.
For a moment, I just stood gawking. The body was that of a young man, probably not older than twenty, with the sad, whispy beginnings of a moustache he would never grow. Even more unfortunate were his tight leather pants and the eyebrow ring he sported, not to mention his pink-streaked hair which was cut in what I believe the kids call a nullet. Of course, the worst of it was that he was dead, and lying on my prestine kitchen table.
At last a clear thought cut through the numbness: I had to call the police. I traveled into the livnig room to retrive the telephone, but I never reached it. On my leather couch was another thing that wasn't supposed to be there, but this one was definitely alive: my sister, Alexandria.
Her hair was much shorter than that of the boy on the table, and the dark brown was streaked with blue. Though her pants were tight, they were covered past the knees by her tennis-shoe boots. These she had lying on my perfect, even-more-expensive-than-the-kitchen-table couch.
"Alexandria." I said, by way of preliminaries. My tone was stiff.
"It's Alex," she said, popping her gum at me, "Hey, Winnie."
"My name is Winchester." I corrected haughtily.
"I wouldn't brag about that."
"What are you doing here? Last time we saw one another, you said I was a rectangle and you never wanted to see me again."
"Square. I said you were a square."
"A square is a rectangle."
"What? No it isn't."
"The definition of a rectangle is a shape with two pairs of parallel lines of equal lenght. Therefore, a square is a rectangle."
"Whatever. I didn't come here to talk about algebra. I-"
"Shapes are geometry, not algebra."
"THERE IS A FREAKING DEAD BODY IN YOUR KITCHEN!" Alexandria reminded me, in a tone much louder than necessary.
"No need to shout," I said, "I was getting to that."

I don't know why, but when I write at two in the morning, someone always ends up dead. I also wrote this sentance using a prompt. I may write it into something, but probably not:

Seven days ago, I died. Now nobody will talk to me.

Anyway, cheerio -- and hope that you never make it into my book at two in the morning.
Thanks again to Pocket Muse for the prompts.

Mwuahahaha!

♥The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop♥

The fascination of shooting as a sport depends almost entirely on whether you are on the right or wrong end of the gun.

♫♪My wish is your command♪♫

2010-07-22T14:48:00.000-07:00

I'm loving spending all day writing -- it's been brilliant. I woke up at 11 this morning, and have done nothing but write and go for walks since (well, I did watch an episode of Sonny with a Chance during lunch...) It's been great! I thought I would take a break out of writing for a sec, to post the prompt I answered this morning.

Prompt: Your wish becomes somebody's command.

It began ever-so-innocently. My every-day morning routine had brought me into the gas station on the corner by my house. However, I had forgotten my wallet, and only had enough cash in my pocket for a cup of hot chocolate.
Sighing, I stood in front of the donut display case and spoke absently to myself: "I wish I had a donut."
A voice came from just behind me, deep and masculine, saying: "Your wish is my command."
I turned to see a man with dark hair and very dark eyes. There was a solemn experssion on his face, but this did not detract from his extremely good looks.
With a flirtatious smile, I asked: "Did you say something?"
Instead of responding, he took a chocolate-iced donut from the cabinet, brought it to the check-out counter, purchased it, and gave it to me. I could not believe my good fortune.
"Thank you so much," I smiled.
"Your wish is my command," he repeated.
"Well, I wish I had more time to stay and talk to you, but I have to get-" I stopped, mid-sentance, as teh people around me froze. The door had stopped half-way through its swing, and the bell above had stopped in the middle of its chime. People stood in scattered positions of action, talking and choosing items, now motionless. Even the cars outside had ceased their movement.
"What just happened?" I finally asked.
The attractive man who had bought me my donut replied, "You wished for more time."
"But, I- but, you-"
"I gaev you all the time you want by stopping ti for everyone else. Your wish is my command."
As he spoke, his voice was the only sound -- the only sound in the entire world. The creepiness of this cannot be propperly expressed.
"Well, I wish time would start again. This is cree-"
The door swung closed, the bell finished its chime, people went about their daily business, and cars sped past outside.
"I have to get to work."
I darted out the door and into my car, terrified and confused.
Perhaps it was my reckless driving, but I was not yet halfway to work when my tire blew. I pulled to the side of the road and stopped the car, banging my head against the stearing will.
"Ugh," I said, "I wish I had a spare."
A car pulled off the side of teh road and parked behind me. I couldn't believe that someone had actually pulled over, until the man from the gas station got out of teh beat-up car behind me.
I got out of my car as well.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"You made a wish," he answered, pulling a spare tire from his trunk, "Your wish is my command. Here you go."
He gave me the tire, then opened the front door of his car.
"Wait!" I cried, "You can't just leave me! I don't know how to change a tire."
"That's rough." He climbed into his car.
"I wish you would help me!" I said quickly, the words out of my mouth before I had thought about them.
I saw him close his eyes, and I suspected he was taking a deep breath. He then climbed out of his car.
"Your wish is my command."

Wishfully,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

"If wishes were fishes we'd all have...."

"Gills?"

Thanks to Monica Wood's The Pocket Muse for the prompt!

Survivors

2010-07-21T23:07:00.000-07:00

So, Lime Green and I are working on a book together, and I didn't want to work on it without her, but I'm REALLY excited about the world we've built ... so I wrote this random piece sort of introducing it. It's actually NOT how I intended to introduce it, and I might try another one later, but this one's kind of cool ... do bear in mind that I wrote it in ten minutes. Oh! and this is Wednesday's post, even if it shows up as Thursday. I haven't gone to bed yet, so it's still Wednesday.
Tomorrow I am writing all day without talking to anyone ... theoretically. We'll see how that goes.
Anyway, here it is:

We are survivors.
We hide in the darkness. With no other choice, we cower ~ everything about us a secret.
Our world is one of danger. An almost-impenetrable forest surrounds us. The sky is dark, with no differentiation between night and day. Thunder roars and shakes the earth, and a poison rain falls.
Even worse than these natural dangers are the dangers presented by the creatures that live here. Cruel beings ~ from ill-tempered sprites to sharp-toothed ganglegraws. The latter will dismember you as soon as sighting you ~ a kindness compared with the actions of the prior.
It is in this world that we built our lives. Unable to survive in the cruel wilderness, we built a prison. We boxed ourselves in, allowing ourselves no light and no fresh air. In the silence, we lock ourselves away, because we must.
There is beauty in our world. Our hallways are glass, shimmering in the reflection of a thousand blue candles and green lamps. Glass so opaque we cannot see the horrors beyond. The people walk in shadow, ethereal with their pale skin lit by icy torches.
Our people.... We know that we are harsh, as cold as the sunless corridors we walk. We have become so out of necessity ~ for even now we are not safe. Powers we cannot understand surround us. There are many of us who have vanished, never to be seen. Screams echo in the night.
Fear whispers in the hearts of us all. We know it is only a matter of time before the nightmares that surround us break into our dream. We know what we hold is delicate, and may shatter.
So we trust no one. We defend ourselves. And we live.
We are survivors.

Yours always,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop ♥

If there's nothing out there, what was that noise?

Prologue

2010-07-20T14:09:00.000-07:00

This is the prologue of the book I am currently working on. I know it needs work, but... I'm too lazy to edit before posting, so you're just going to have to put up with my rubbish. So there.

Comments and critiques (especially positive ones ^_^ but negative ones are also welcome) appreciated!

Fingers made clumsy through haste, the condemned tied close the shadow that would hide her. The cries of teh avengers echoed in her ears. They had everything so wrong, and now they were crying for her blood.
Only one could save her. She knew that if she reached him, he would understand -- he would believe her and make everything okay. So she ran, through the shadowy streats -- trying not to hear the lies that snaked through the air around her.
There was not the faintest sliver of moon to guide her feet, and she stumbled, but blessed the darkness that hid her. She reached the water's edge, located the staircase, and continued running.
A familiar tingle of magic flowed over her -- and never had it been so welcome. Soon, she had reached the place where he stayed -- where she knew she could always find him.
But he was gone.
She had pushed through the great front door, but the entryway had not lit upon her entrance. It always lit when she came in. It was his way of showing off. Now, everything was cast in a shadowy semi-darkness.
"Damian?" her voice echoed around the large, marble room.
There came no reply.
Then that huge wooden door, which she had left open in her haste and out of habit, began to creak on its hinges as it slowly closed.
For a moment she thought nothing of it, or the touch of magic that accompanied it, but soon she realized that something was wrong: the magic was not Damian's.
"Oh, no you don't!" Flying to the door, she reached it just too late. It had closed with a final-sounding thud!
Pulling on teh doorknob with all her strength did no good. The door had been sealed.
"Very well," she muttered, "If you want to play rough...." With that, she launched the most powerful spell seh could think of at the locked door. It bounced back and hit her ni the stomache, throwing her all the way across the room. She landed uncomfortably on the stairs.
Somewhere, someone laughed.
"You'll never get out that way."
"Dianne? Dianne, is that you? Let me out!"
"Oh, but I can't. You see, dear, you are a dangerous criminal. A murderer. If I let you out, who knows how many more innocent lives you'll take?"
Had she been thinking propperly, she would have heard the sarcasm in these words and realized its significance. As it was, there was only one thought in her mind:
"I didn't kill him! You know I didn't-- I couldn't! He was only a child. His death will cause a war! Please, believe me, I didn't want that. Please, I didn't kill him!"
"I'm sorry, dear, you've already had a trial. I'm afraid you plead guilty."
"What trial? There was no trial."
"Yes, there was -- you were there, and you admitted to everything. I must say: I play you rather well. Anyways, I must be off. Have fun now."
"NO! Wait!! Dianne, let me out!" Scrambling off the steps and running to the door, she banged her fists against it. "Let me out! Please, please let me out! Damian! Damian, I'm here! Help me!" her cries turned to sobs, "Please, help me."
She slid down the door and onto the cold, marble floor. Numbness, not just from the cold, filled her. Dianne had been her colleague, even her friend. Betrayal was cold, cold and lonesome, like a night alone in a winter storm.
One thought warmed her: Damian.
In an instant, she knew, he would be by her side, he would save her, and then they would stop Dianne together. In an instant....
Instant after instat went by.
Instants trickled into minutes, and minutes into hours, hours into days. In all that time, she did not move once. Her heart had frozen, as cold as the floor she sat on.
Dianne had betrayed her.
Damian had not come for her.
Death stood beside her.
A cold hand touched her face, and she stirred from the half-dream state she had been in.
"Damian?"
It was not Damian. The man touching her face was a stranger to her.
"Is this it, then?" his voice carried the hint of an accent that was unknown to her, "Giving up in a cold, empty room?"
She opened her mouth to protest that she had not given up, she was just waiting -- but the words wouldn't come, partly because he spoke the truth, and partly because she had not spoken in over a month and her mouth was too dry to form words.
The man held his hand out to her.
"Very well," he said, "Sairee, come with me."
She murmered her consent, and reached out to accept the hand he offered, but one thought stopped her: Dianne. Giving up meant Dianne had won. She would get everything she wanetd, her crimes neatly planted on Sairee.
She pulled her hand back.
"No!" she said, her voice cracking as it tried to force itself out her dry throat, "NO!" she said again, her voice stronger. She scrambled to her feet, away from him.
A smile briefly crossed the face of the stranger, but he spoke sternly: "You can't stay here, alone in this dark prison, feeling sorry for yourself forever."
"I don't intend to." A fire had been lit inside her. She did not know what had started it, but she knew what to feed it to keep it going. "I'm getting out of here," she said, "Dianne Paun is going to pay. A curse, just for her." Sairee raised her hands, but the man stopped her.
"There's no magic here," he said, "Except that imprisons you."
"I don't need magic," Sairee replied, "Just a promise: I will not rest until I see Dianne Paun and all those who have followed her fallen! I know her goal -- I will see it plucked from her grasp, never to be achieved." Having reached the end of her proclomation, Sairee staggered and nearly fell. The strange man caught her by the arm.
"You need warmth, food, and rest," said he, "You have revenge to plot in the morning."

When Sairee awoke, the strange man was gone -- or perhaps he had never been. However, the fire still burned within her. She WOULD escape, and Dianne WOULD pay.

With still an entire chapter to write by Sunday,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

Wait

2010-07-20T02:51:00.001-07:00

I found this poem on http://www.cicadamag.com/ -- in the Slammables. I actually read it a REALLY long time ago, and then it took me half an hour to find it again... Canada can attest... she was there....

Wait
by M. F.

There is only so much waiting a person can do…
a finite number of coffee dregs swirled in a polka dot cup,
packets of jaggedly ripped sugar substitute,
tiles to count on the ceiling.

There comes a point when you know the alphabet backwards,
when the list of colors you remember includes tangerine and eggshell,
which really shouldn't be included anyway.
When you can recite the capital of Zimbabwe with little hesitation.

There comes a moment when you've seen every channel on TV,
organized the contents of the freezer by caloric level,
matched thirty pairs of socks,and eaten two and a half packs of wintermint gum.

There is a second when you realize.
A heartbeat when you suddenly know.
When you curl up, and let the tears fall.

Quotationally,

♥The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop♥

Bad Wolf ♥ The Oncoming Storm

Hey, where's Perry?

2010-07-18T22:39:00.000-07:00

I'm going to skip the bit where I pretend to apologize for not logging in a billion years but just end up justifying my actions. You all know I'm a failure, I don't have to pretend otherwise.

I've had a pretty nonproductive couple of days... few weeks... ok, summer. But it's been nice. I'm trying to get myself to be ok with doing nothing. Then perhaps my stress levels will go down and I will actually WANT to do something. Yes. Behold my clever plan.

Started another book. I was working on Vandagriff Stones, but I got bored. Bored does NOT equal good writing. So I'm writing this one, because it's fun. There's this awesome witch who was betrayed and trapped in a castle for 80 years, and when she escapes she is intent on getting revenge... with help from a personified version of Death, a group of thieves, a band of pirates, a bounty-hunter fairy, and some talking frog that I haven't actually introduced yet. Yeah, it's pretty awesome.

On Saturday, I went to see Sorcerer's Apprentice. It was highly entertaining -- I LOVE Nicholas Cage, he makes me happy, and I was impressed with his character. The MC was a bit too much of a nerd (versus being a geek, which is awesome), but I still liked him. My biggest problem with the whole movie was that the villain used to be a goodguy, but he betrayed them because he was in love with this chick and she chose the other guy. I mean, c'mon! Can't we think of anything more original? AND there was this whole epic build-up about how evil and scary the main villain was, and then she was defeated by a sissy apprentice in the course of a three-minute duel. Really? She defeated Merlin, but a 20 year old kid kills her with "a bit of science"?
Sorry -- I'm such a writer when I critique. I did still totally LOVE the movie -- except the dog. Dogs just shouldn't be allowed.

I've been thinking (♫"A dangerous pass-time." "I know."♪♫) what the literary world needs more of us high-action fantasy. Sorcerer's guilds and quests and all those seemingly-cliché things that we really don't see enough of. The problem is: I can't write what I most love. I don't know why. I can't seem to get passed interplanetary travel and rebellion groups (I do love a good rebellion). I suppose I will keep working towards the perfect fantasy -- it's what I'm trying for NaNoWriMo.
(I do recommend Gail Carson Levine's The Two Princesses of Bamarre -- that's the sort of thing.)

Doctor Who Season 5 finale was BRILLIANT! Fantastic! Molto bene! Fezzes are cool. Omigoodness, I love this show! Season 6 premiere isn't until December :( Luckily, I have Leverage to carry me until then. "I'm having these weird, weird feelings for... pretzels." I love Parker ^_^ And Nate and Sophie are just being all sorts of good fun this season. "Are we ever going to talk about that kiss?" "Kiss? I don't remember a kiss. I remember a slap. You're still working off the slap." And tonight's episode was just brilliant! I was glad to get a good Elliot episode. This season's been pretty awesome -- what with the group being blackmailed and Sophie refusing to tell us her real name (ok, that's getting pretty frustrating). Good times ^_^

I'm going to be really exciting this week, so I have something epic to write about next week. Until then:

GERONIMO!!!

~The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop~

RIVER: I have questions, the first being: What in the name of sanity do you have on your head?

DOCTOR: It's a fez. I wear a fez now. Fezzes are cool.

Oh, there you are Perry.

Writing

2010-05-13T10:52:00.000-07:00

It's Thursday. That's random.

Anyways ~ hello! I know I haven't been on since April, but I did warn you that I'm pretty much a failure at keeping any form of schedule.

Lately, I've been doing a lot of fake-writing. You know, working on random silly things to keep from actually having to work on anything productive. Though, working on character sheets for Tyler Jennings has proved rather beneficial to my Life's Work (The Vandagriff Stones, I've been working on this one for, count them, TWELVE years.)

Other than Tyler, I've been working on some other character sheets, some random writing prompts, and a text-based computer game. I'm actually really excited about the latter. My dad's going to help me program it, and it's going to be wicked. Some day, when I have it finished, I'll post the link here and you can all check it out! Yay!

As for ME...

We figured out why I was sick all the time! I won't go into details, 'cause it's kind of weird and I only really understand about a tenth of what they were saying, but, basically, if I take the pills they gave me, I'll feel better! Yay!!! I'm still a bit sick right now -- but I'm only on one of the pills, so it's to be expected (I hope).

Otherwise, there hasn't been much going on. I tried to get a certain guy to ask me to his school's prom, but I failed, so... so much for that. Yeah. I'm trying to teach Lime Green, Canada, and C. Bai to play Risk -- which has been... interesting. Let's just say: I took over the world. It was kind of sad. We're going to have to try again. Maybe they'll listen to my advice this time.

I'm reading Jonothan Stroud's Bartimaeus Trilogy. I'm almost done with the first one. It's pretty fun -- very Brittish, and the main character's a djinni, so how can you go wrong? Speaking of: I need to finish The Children of the Lamp series. I love those books, but I've been reading about one a year, sometimes less frequent than that.
I also need to reread Dandelion Wine. It's that time of year: SUMMER! Sweet. And Leverage is back June 20th! I LOVE that show! It's pretty amazing. Con artists, explosions, gun-fights, how can you go wrong?
I think Canada, C-Bai, and I need to have a "Con Marathon" and watch The Sting, The Italian Job, and an episode or six of Leverage (we might also watch Oceans 11, but I've never seen that and don't know if it's any good).
I HAVE SEASON 5 OF DOCTOR WHO!!!! Not all of it, of course, but I've watched episodes 1-3, and I have 4 & 5. Thanks to my awesome dad ☺ Matt Smith is pretty awesome (of course, I miss Tennant, but that was only to be expected). I also really like the new companion -- Amelia Pond. She's Scottish. She's awesome ☺

Wow. I'd managed, with this blog, to only post things that are generally on topic and well-thought-out. Guess I had to break the pattern eventually. Don't worry, in another month or so maybe I'll post something clever (but don't count on it). I'll try to post some writing tomorrow. ♥

~The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop~

Box falls from sky.

Man falls from box.

Man eats fish custard.

Strong & of a Good Courage

2010-04-08T11:42:00.001-07:00

“The Lord does not expect that we do what we cannot achieve. The command to become perfect, as He is, encourages us to achieve the best of ourselves, to discover and develop the talents and attributes with which we are blessed by a loving Eternal Father, who invites us to realize our potential as children of God. He knows us; He knows of our capacities and our limitations. The invitation and challenge to become perfect, to achieve eternal life is for all mankind.”
~Jorge F. Zeballos

www.lds.org is my official favorite website! I love being able to browse talks given by our prophet. Lately, I've been reading talks on JOY. These talks are excellent for lifting the soul.

It's so easy to judge ~ but not so easy to be judged. Especially when you are the one judging yourself, and you realize you are judging by the same standard you've held everyone else to. Ooh, if that's not poetic justice, then I don't know what is.
Being a teenager is a lot harder than I realized. And teenage girls who cry all the time and freak out for no apparent reason are given a lot of crap. I'm here to tell you that sometimes all you need is a good cry, and sometimes no apparent reason is reason enough to freak out.

It's hard not to get lost. It's hard not to forget. But "...the Lord thy God is with thee withersoever thou goest...." All we have to do is remember that.

End of lecture.

~The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

Cucumbers Taste Pink

2010-03-22T21:48:00.000-07:00

I hope none of you actually believed me when I said I would post every day. If you did, then maybe these past few weeks where I have posted nothing will have properly killed off all faith you have in me.
"Apologies" aside, I guess I could actually tell you what I have been up to lately.

Stay off the streets -- I am now a legal driver (so long as I have a licensed adult in the seat beside me)!
I still LOVE driving! I can't get enough of it. My uncle let me drive him around town last week -- he even let me go through the drive-thru (something neither of my parents have been brave enough to do.)

School's been going okay. My mum set up a reward system -- I have a sticker chart and everything!!!
In Psychology, we are talking about memory and why we remember certain things. It's really interesting. More and more, I am considering majoring in psychology. I think it would be more useful to my writing than majoring in writing.
This song is a nice shade of yellow. Actually, I have no idea what color this song is, but I would if I had synesthesia. Synesthesia is the coolest thing ever! If you'd like to know more, check out this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DvwTSEwVBfc.
I am SUCH a geek! I was reading about synesthesia in Neurodevelopmental Disorders today -- and not only did I understand it, I really enjoyed it. I'll probably read the whole book, not just the part I have to read for English. It actually made me feel better about myself (in a "Proud to be a Nerd" sort of way.) Here I was thinking I was stupid, now I know I'm just lazy! ☺

As for writing... I am working on a novel. I'm excited about it, but my inner critic won't shut up long enough to let me WRITE. I have really cool character, but no real plot. Plots are over-rated, right?
My friend Brok keeps pestering me to work on Reggie -- and REGGIE keeps pestering me to work on Reggie. So I guess that is what I am working on tomorrow. Which is okay by me -- I love Reggie! ♥

So, a couple of weeks ago, I swallowed my pride and my sarcastic comments and went with Canada to Tummy Yummy's. I still stand by my statement that it's a dumb name for a college student hang out, but I must say that it is my new favorite place! I have been craving their frozen yogurt all day! Not to mention the whole aura about the place. It's just over-all awesome ☺

Okay, I guess that's it. Mostly, I meant to go to bed at nine and now it's eleven. Fail.
Ill post some writing tomorrow (but don't hold it against me if I fail to do so.)

Check out Bri Lexen's page on www.nanowrimo.com!!!

♥The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop♥

P. S. Brandon Mull's Fablehaven 5 comes out tomorrow at midnight (or Wednesday morning at midnight)!!!!! I AM SOOO EXCITED!!!!

Warren ♥ Vanessa

♥THGitCS♥

Link to a Writing Web Site

2010-03-13T15:19:00.001-08:00

This site has pretty good prompts. http://www.feath.com/idea/prev/archive/72.htm

Writing Goal...

2010-02-27T14:02:00.000-08:00

So, my goal was 1,500 words in 30 minutes. I got ALMOST 1,300 words.... Ah well, there's always tomorrow, right? And C. Bai was distracting me! Anyways, here's my prompt and my ALMOST 1,300 words.

PROMPT:

Things are always more attractive when they are out of reach. Faith had never before noticed how beautiful her city was after the sun had set. Now the buildings were all aglow, and the cars crawled past with their lights glimmering off the wet streats. There was beauty in every building that scraped the sky, with each carefully designed spire and window.

As Faith gazed, longingly, out the window, she wondered about the people inside each of those windows. Some still had the lights on -- were they reading? writing? simply sitting in silence? watching teleivision? playing games? There were an infinite number of possibilities.

Were any prisoners like herself?

"Stop your moping," a dry voice said in a Scottish accent behind her, "It will do you no good."

Faith turned back to the man sitting at the table. His feet were propped up on the table, and he was fiddeling with a silver ring he wore on his right hand. His red hair was spiked, and his freckled face was surprisingly pleasent, considering his line of work.

With a sigh, Faith returned to gazing out the window. Her own reflection looked back at her, pitiful after only a few days of captivity. Face pale with fear, dark hair unkempt, green eyes full of longing.

"You were more interesting when you were angry," the man continued.

Faith said nothing.

"Oh, stop your sulking. Have you ever been stuck in a room with a sulking person? It's no fun at all. C'mon, don't blame me. This wasn't my idea. Come play some cards, forget about your troubles for a while."

"Whose idea was it, then?" Faith asked, without turning away.

"Huh?"

"Whose idea was it to capture me? And why?"

"My boss. You don't need to know his name, and even I don't know why. I'm sorry I can't be of more help to you. C'mon -- d'you know how to play Speed? Slap Jack? Poker? I'm up for anything, here! I'll play Go Fish if you want!"

"I'm not six," Faith said, before she could stop herself.

"How old are ya'? C'mon, a bit of conversation can't hurt anything. If you want, I'll tell the others you were sullen the hole time, but I'm dying of boredom over here!"

"Nineteen."

"Yeah? So... you goin' to college, or what?"

"I plan on it next year. We couldn't afford-- Well, I just decided not to go this year."

"I hear ya'. I only got this job to see myself through college... but it's starting to look like that's not gonna' happen."

"How old are you?" Faith asked, surprised by his statement. Surely, he couldn't be much older than herself!

"Twenty-one. But the boss ... well, it just probably wouldn't work out. What I didn't realize when I started into this group is that there's not much of a way to get out." Her guard looked surprised, "But here we are talking about me! What about you? I didn't even get your name!"

"It's Faith. I didn't catch yours, either."

"Doesn't matter, much. I'm just one of the grunts, only kept around for babysitting jobs like this."

"I resent that!"

He laughed. "My name's Reginald."

"Aren't you Scottish?"

"Well... yeah. It's kind of a long story. See, my mum... Well, never mind! So, what do you plan on studying in college?"

"Does it matter? It doesn't look like I'll ever make it there!"

"Oh, I see your point. You never know, sometimes the boss has his soft moments."

"You really don't know why he captured me?" Faith moved to sit down at the table, and Reginald took his feet down.

"No," the latter said, "I'd tell ya' if I did. You don't suppose it's for ransom, do you?"

"Couldn't be. Then they'd capture someone rich. My family couldn't pay a ransom if they wanted to. And they probably wouldn't want to." Faith blushed, "Not that it-- I mean to say...."

"No worries. Every family's got problems."

"Yeah."

Placing her chin in her hands, Faith stared at the smooth, wooden surface of the table, wondering if her family had even noticed she was missing. She had threatened to move out so many times, they probably were just thinking that she had been serious. Except that all her things were still in her room.

"Don't look like that," Reginald said, "Things'll be all right."

Faith laughed. "You're not much of a badguy," she said.

"I'll work on that."

"It suits me fine," Faith smiled, "But it's a wonder your boss puts up with it. I bet you couldn't shoot someone if you wanted to." She gestured to the gun he wore on his belt.

"I don't suggest you try anything. I'm sorry, sis, but my life's more important to me than yours -- and the boss wouldn't hesitate to kill me if you got away."

This comment took all the warmth out of their conversation, and Faith went back to staring at the tabletop, feeling uncomfortable. Most people are not comfortable to find that the person they have been chatting with is willing to kill them.

The door of the appartment opened, and a group of men dressed in clothes varying from business suits to the apparel commonly found on hobos to the garb of a hotdog vender. There were six or seven men in all, and none of them looked very friendly.

"You!" one of the men in beggar's clothing said to Reginald, "Come with us. Derik, stay here."

"Yes, sir!" A man in a business suit said.

Another man went to the fridge and began pulling out cans of beer, passing them around the group. Faith noticed that several men went without, including Reginald. She wondered if this had to do with them being against drinking, or the fact that they were not of high enough rank to deserve a drink.

The group filed out, Reginald giving Faith a seruptitious nod before leaving.

"So, was that guy your boss?" Faith asked her new guard, Derik, referring to the man dressed as a hobo who had been doling out orders.

Giving her a disgusted look, Derik drew a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and stuck it in his mouth.

"Don't mind me," Faith muttered, and returned to staring out the window.

What she wouldn't give to be free!

*

Walking down the streat with his hands in his pockets, Gregory smiled. He was in a singularly good mood, for no particular reason. The sun had already set, and the city seemed to be just waking up.

Stepping into a cafe, he ordered a latte and sat at a round table, pulling a notebook from his pocket and staring out the window at the rain-washed streat. Shifting his gaze to the windows above, he wondered about the people inside each room. What they might be doing.

Putting pen to paper, he began to write. For a moment he wrote in a frenzy. Then he stopped, reread the words, and scribbled them all out furiously.

His drink was ready, and the server was calling his name repeatedly, but he didn't notice. The creative struggle was driving him crazy.

"Sir," the waiter said, approaching his table, "You're coffee is done."

"What? Oh, thanks. Uh, yeah, thanks." Gregory looked up at the man, noting his messy red hair and pleasent face. He even had a Scottish accent. Turning back to his notebook, Gregory began a sketchy character outline. What he wrote couldn't have been more wrong.

*

Reginald sighed, wiping down tables. The last of the customers were gone, and he had some time to think before returning to his real job.

How simple his life would be if he had chosen to lead a normal life! What would it be like to actually work at a cafe like a normal person? What would it be like if he were to wipe down these tables and then return home, to watch some television and perhaps call some friends.

Love you!

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

Thanks http://www.feath.com/idea/prev/archive/108.htm for the prompt!

Adjectives

2010-02-25T22:31:00.000-08:00

Ugh. I did NO writing today. It was still a good day -- I hung out with C. Bai and did a service project. However, I'm kind of upset with myself for not writing. Heck, I still have half an hour. That's enough to write 1,500 words! Except I haven't read my scriptures.... Sigh. Anyways, I do still have a post for you! I went digging through the archives (meaning the boxes and drawers and piles and piles and piles of papers that I have) and found a writing prompt I did a while ago that I thought would be interesting to share with you. Enjoy!

PROMPT: Use the "adjectives": racket, snug, green, spoon, boggle, and snake in story.

The sun greened the grass as afternoon drew closer. Diana snugged herself deeper in her blankets, her eyes fixed on the television screen.
Her actions boggled Steven, as the set was not on. However, he did not allow this to bother him as he sat beside her, seruptitiously snaking his arm around her shouldders.
Turning to lay her head on his shoulder, Diana burst into tears.
Steve stroked her hair soothingly, and was about to inquire as to what was the matter when their mutual friend, Kody, came racketing up the back stairs.
"Hello, all!" he called jovially.
Pulling quickly away from Diana, Steve hurried to greet the other boy.
"Dee needs ice cream, and quick," he said, trying desperately not to blush.
"There's some in the freezer," Kody said, opening the same (duciking as a microwave dinner came lying out at him) and pursuing its contents. Pulling out a container of chocolate ice cream, Kody began spooning it into a bowl as Steve raided the cupboards in search of the chocolate syrup.
The boys didn't know much -- but what they did know is that when girls cry, the only thing to do is feed them chocolate.

Yellowly Yours,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

Monica Wood's "The Pocket Muse" again supplied today's prompt!

http://www.amazon.com/Pocket-Muse-Monica-Wood/dp/1582973229/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1267166608&sr=8-1

1000 Words (more or less)

2010-02-24T14:40:00.001-08:00

I strongly disagree that a picture is worth a thousand words -- but a picture can definitely inspire a thousand (or more). Of course, I used Write or Die (look to the right-hand-side of this page for a link), which is WAY too much fun. I have written 1,000+ words every day since I found that site! Anyways, here's today's prompt and post. (By the way, I didn't even re-read it, it could be total crap. I just wrote what I could think of, trying to beat the clock. I learned that I can do 1,000 words in 20 minutes, easy. Fun, fun!)

PROMPT: Write a 1000 words inspired by the picture. Who is she? Or is she merely a tool and what she's doing more important?

Does the skeleton have something to do with death? Or bringing something back from death? Or the foundation of something she's building? Or is it her employer looking over her shoulder?

Clinging to the spheres in her hand, Distilla begged silently for more time. There had to be something ... there had to be some speck of truth, of knowledge, within the swirling whiteness.
So many images... so many figures....
There, a white kitten roared like a lion. Here, an eight-legged creature purred. In yet another, there were small beings, dancing and laughing. In the fourth was a dark image -- a warning? A sign? Oh! what did it all mean?
The spider crawled onto her aged fingers, but she didn't notice. She was out of time, so very out of time.
She tried to close her eyes, to take peace from the stone that rested on her forehead, but nothing came -- nothing ever came.
Perhaps they had been wrong? Perhaps she lacked the power?
But that would mean....
No. Focus.
She concintrated on the orbs. The images had never been so clear -- but nor had they ever made so little sense. Even she, the master of deceit, could not make anything up from this.
And she was tired. So very, very tired....
Slumping her head down on the table, she wept -- wept with fear and anguish and tiredness and fear... she was so afraid.
Peering again into the spheres, she begged the images to make sense, to help her. But they would not. The secrets were closed to her. Images, floating in the white mist, seemed to mock her.
The spider bit her, and the pain shot through her hand -- stronger than it should have been.
She should have known. Death had been hovering behind her shoulder for so long. Distractions had kept her from looking, however.
And now it was too late.

"Hack against her!" Bris cursed, "What are we going to do? We have lost our seer!"
"Patience," Domi said soothingly, stroking Bris' kneck, "We have only to wait. Distilla was weak. Now we shall find someone strong. Someone who shall protect us."
"But who?" Bris demadned.
"I have already sent Kran out looking. Soon. Very soon."

Kran stumbled as he passed through the glass that covered the Other World. He could never do that enough to get used to it. Somehow, he had to find a Seer amongst the Mundain.
A diamond in the rough.
A needle in a haystack.
A wild goose that he was forced to chase.
"Hack," Kran swore, "I'll never find a Seer."
He had to keep looking, though. Domi would kill him if he did not come back with what he was searching for. Surely there was a girl here who was not so Mundain as all the rest?
Walking down the street, Kran kept his eyes open -- trying not to be distracted. This was difficult. His senses were clouded by shouting, and talking, and music. So much noise -- how did the Mundains manage to THINK? There were so many smells -- some sweet, some savory, and some disgusting. How could his powers work with so many distractions? Someone rammed into him, then kept walking without even giving him a second look.
Such rudeness! Such disgusting incivility! How did the Mundains stand it?
As he continued, Kran began to dispair. He saw many young women, but none who would fit his purpose. They seemed always to travel in groups -- giggeling, girlish groups. Not one had The Sight. Not one had the patience to stop and Examine. So many distractions -- and they simply added to the confusion.
Such artificial beauty. Such concern with all things temporal.
Kran began to feel sick. There could not be a girl with Clarvoyance within a thousand miles.

Jennifer sighed, and stirred her tea, breathing in the vapors that rose from it. She always drank the tea after it was cold -- not because she prefered it that way, but because the steam always distracted her.
The smell was so soothing -- such a nice escape from the world around her. Here, in her safe little shop, she could hide from the world and all its noise, and simply THINK.
She had a lot to think about. It seemed that the world was colapsing around her very ears, and there was no way she could piece it back together again.
She felt as though she had failed miserably. Sighing, she breathed the vapors in deeply, and tried to think of something more pleasent.
A voice seemed to cry out to her -- desperate.
Someone needed help.
Standing quickly, and knocking over her chair, Jennifer started towards the door.
"Hoi!" the shopkeeper called out, "What's gotten into you?"
His voice broke the spell.
"Sorry?" Jennifer turned back.
"What happened, Jen?" he asked, more kindly. Jennifer had been coming into his shop for three years now -- she was his most loyal customer.
"I thought I heard..." Jennifer started, then realized what she was saying, "Nothing. It was nothing. I thought I remembered something, but it's not until tomorrow. Finals, you know. Always distract me."
"You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine, no worries."
She picked up her chair and settled back down at the table, eyeing her tea cup nervously. Was she cracking up?

Kran nearly jumped out of his skin as he noticed a scent on the wind. Something tingled inside him.
Someone was Sighting.
Was it possible? Could there really be someone among the Mundains with the Sight? With the Power?
He started running down the streat, but soon the scent was gone. The feeling had escaped him.
He had been so close!
Cursing quietly, he slowed to a walk, then stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.
It was hopeless. He would have to Cry and hope she Heard before the Dakk did.

Jennifer put her keys down on the counter and sat on one of the high stools. Something about her appartment made her uncomfortable -- it was too Busy. The bright colours and active patterns distracted her. She just couldn't THINK.
Her roommate, Kristi, liked bright colours. Really, she liked bright everything. Everything about her was chipper and hyper, and though that made her sweet and likeable, it also made it rather hard to THINK.

Creepily yours?

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

Thanks http://dragonwritingprompts.blogspot.com/ for today's prompt! And thanks also to http://fxb.worth1000.com/entries/510612/esmeralda for the creepy picture.

Before I go, I have to post this quote by Roy H. Williams:

"In a thousand words I can have the Lord's Prayer, the 23rd Psalm, the Hippocratic Oath, a sonnet by Shakespeare, the Preamble to the Constitution, Lincoln's Gettysburg Address and almost all of the Boy Scout Oath. Now exactly what picture were you planning to trade for all that?"

Destroying Things

2010-02-23T13:37:00.000-08:00

I really should be being productive (well, actually, I'm going to go do Write or Die... that's productive, right?) so this is going to be quick. I actually wrote this a while back, while doing writing prompts with some friends. I may some day continue it ... but probably not.

Enjoy!

Prompt: Destroying something that you thought was indestructable.

There were times that I wondered how his ego fit inside the room. He was everything that is confident -- chic and cool-headed and vain.

I never thought his pride could be touched -- and yet, somehow, I shattered it into a million tiny pieces.

It only took breaking his heart.

Driving You Crazy

2010-02-23T12:50:00.000-08:00

So much for posting every day! I should never have said that was my intent, for now I look like a liar. Here, I'll post two posts today, and we'll just pretend I posted yesterday, okay?

Have I mentioned that being a girl sucks? I mean, I love being a girl, don't get me wrong - and I often think it must be much more fun than being a bloke - but sometimes it just stinks.
"Being a boy stinks every day."
"That's because you never shower."
"Oh yeah."
(That's a conversation my cousin SP and I had a while ago.)
Really, I shouldn't complain. Life is pretty easy for me -- but I have ben SO over-emotional lately. I guess that comes from being a teenager. At least i'm not as bad as Lindsay Lohan's character in Freaky Friday. "Ugh! You're ruining my life!" The scariest part of that movie is that there really are girls like that.

I love driving! It is my new favorite thing! Yesterday, my dad let me move the car into the driveway. On Sunday, we drove around his work area. Hopefully, I'll get my permit today, and then I'll be able to actually drive on real roads! (Legally.)
Most teens fight more with their parents when the latter are teaching them to drive. My dad and I are the exception. In fact, since I turned fifteen, my dad and I stopped getting on so well as we used to (I have no idea why). Driving together has changed that. It gives us something to do together, and we get along really well. I only make him a little nervous. I haven't hit a single thing! (Well, except that tree ... and that moose ... and the little Keebler elf....)

Pandora raido is my other new favorite thing! I love being able to listen to music that I, for the most part, like every song.
At the moment, I am listening to a bunch of random LDS artists that came up when I searched for Cherie Call.
http://www.pandora.com/

So... I haven't actually done much exciting this week, besides clean my room. I haven't even left the house, except to go to church and to drive. I'll try to be more exciting this week, just for you.

Potential Road Hazard,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

What NOT to do

2010-02-19T01:52:00.000-08:00

Sooo... Since I didn't get you a post in time for Thursday, I'm going to give you two at 3 in the morning, and then I'll give you another one tomorrow. Sound fair? Yeah, whatever, just pretend like you understand my logic.

RULES FOR WRITING WICKED GOOD PAPERS

Shun and avoid the employment of unnecessary, excess extra words.
Make certain all sentences are full and complete. If possible.
Avoid cliches like the plague.
Take pain's to spell and, punctuate correctly.
BE Consistent.
Don't approximate. Always be more or less precise.
Sedulously eschew obfuscatory hypervobosity or prolixity.
Avoid pointless repition, and don't repeat yourself unnecessarily.
Always try to remember t he/E extreme importance of being accurit; ne at, and carfful.
Don't use no double negatives.
Don't never use no triple negatives.
All generalizations are bad.
Take care that your verb and subject is in agreement.
A preposition is a bad thing to end a sentence with.
Don't use commas, which aren't necessary.
"Avoid overuse of 'quotation' marks."
Writing carefully, dangling participles must be avoided.
And don't start a sentence with a conjunction.
Reserve the apostropphe for it's proper use and omit it when its not necessary.
Avoid run-on sentences they are hard to read.
Proofread carefully to see if you any words out.
Never use that totally cool, radically groovy out-of-date slang.
Avoid those long sentences that just go on, and on, they never stop, they just keep rambling, and you really wish the person would just shut up, but no, they just keep on going, they're worse than the Energizer Bunny, they babble incessantly, and these sentences, they just never stop.

So, there you have it, the rules to good writing!

Gramatically yours,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

I totally stole this from http://donstuff.wordpress.com/2008/10/09/, who actually sited his source correctly. Thanks to him, for posting this brilliant piece!

Alphabet Adjectives

2010-02-19T01:01:00.000-08:00

THIS IS THURSDAY'S POST!!!! (I got kind of behind ... it's still technically Thursday, since I haven't gone to bed yet)
Anyways, that aside.

Prompt: For each letter of the alphabet, come up with an adjective that fits your character.

Reginald Alcott

Awesome
Blithe
Crazy
Daring
Exciteable
Flirtatious
Gorgeous
Haphazard
Idealistic
Jocose
Keen
Loveable
Mischievous
Noticeable
Odd
Presumtuous
Quixotic
Radical
Self-reliant
Talkative
Unique
Versatile
Whimsical
Xenodochial (accepting of strangers)
Youthful
Zealous

Julia Moffet

Articulate
Beautiful
Collected
Diplomatic
Eloquent
Fastidious
Guarded
Honest
Intelligent
Judicious
Knowledgable
Loyal
Maternal
Neat
Opinionated
Proper
Quirky
Respected
Sure (as in: reliable, trustworthy)
Tenacious
Unflappable
Virtuous
Willful
Xanothocomic (yellow-haired)
Yeasty
Zippy

Julia really isn't as boring as her list makes her sound....

Anyways, this was a fun get-to-know-your-characters activity, and I will probably do it again sometime for other characters. If nothing else, it was interesting to get to know a bunch of adjectives beginning with "x" that I will never use.

Xenially yours,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

Thanks to http://dragonwritingprompts.blogsome.com/ for the prompt, and http://phrontistery.info/index.html for the list of strange words that aren't in the dictionary, but that are still fun to use!

Ten Letters

2010-02-16T23:28:00.000-08:00

This activity was a great way to get the creative juices flowing, even though most of what I came up with makes no sense.

Prompt: Choose ten random letters of the alphabet, and write them at the top of a blank page. Using words that begin with these letters, in the same order, write an opening sentence.

D I K L J E M R T P

Daringly, Ivan kept leaving, justifying Evan's murder, respecting Talon's practice.

Despite informational keystones, Leonard jogged, ever miserable, right to Patricia's.

David ignored Kati's loud jeering, entering Maria's reproachfully, tearing paper.

"Did Ian-?" Kelly lamented, jabbing emphatically.

Martin responded tactfully: "Perhaps."

Directly in Korea, Leven's jet exploded. Mrs. Evans took Pat.

Nonsensically yours,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

Thanks to Monica Wood's "The Pocket Muse" for the prompt!

http://www.amazon.com/Pocket-Muse-Monica-Wood/dp/1582973229/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1266392486&sr=1-1

The Return of Magic

2010-02-16T12:22:00.000-08:00

Writing prompt: This is an epic about questing. The story is about a knight. It takes place on our world after a disaster brought about the return of magic. A magical accident plays an important role.

Dellinian silently counted out the bullets as he slipped them into the magazine of his rifle. He was running low. If he could only make it to Seriana without having to kill anyone.
Crawling, army-style, out from beneath the engine-less truck he had been hiding under, Dellinian slowly got to his feet, casting his eyes about the dilapidated city around him.
It looked as though a hurricane, an earthquake, and a fire had all occurred in the middle of an air raid. Debris of fallen buildings littered the empty streets and sidewalks, and abandoned vehicles lay about like a careless child's toys. Sad remnants of the lives that had been remained -- a purse, now empty and faded, a hundred dollar bill, blowing in the wind like a dry leaf, and worth half as much, a little girl's shoe, torn and dirty.
His gaze lingering on these items, Dellinian fought the anger that began to rise in his chest. Though he knew anger would solve nothing, and would only get in the way of clear thinking, he found it difficult to stop the emotion. It just wasn't fair that so many lives had been destroyed by one man's greed.
A slight sound, like the scurrying of a rat over a pile of loose rubble, caused Dellinian to turn and raise his gun, his finger on the trigger. At first, only an empty warehouse with broken windows caught his attention, and for a moment he wondered if he was imagining things. His nerves were on edge from all the sneaking around, expecting cilobans to jump out at him at every turn. Perhaps it had been just a rat after all.
This thought had just occurred to him when a shadowy figure darted from behind the truck Dellinian himself had been hiding beneath just a moment previously. Before he could get a good view of who or what it was, the figure had disappeared into the warehouse.
Hair on the back of his neck rising at the thought of having been so close to a possible foe, Dellinian hurried silently after the figure.
The warehouse was vast, but devoid of any structures or furniture. Nevertheless, visibility was low as a sort of darkness covered everything.
Cursing quietly to himself, Dellinian began digging in his pockets for one of the strange items Seriana had given him. In an instant, he had found what he was searching for: a small, golden flash bulb. Throwing the thing at the ground, Dellinian remembered to cover his eyes just before a burst of light erupted from the flash bulb as it made contact with the cold cement.
The light spread through the room, easily dispelling the darkness. Dellinian silently blessed Seriana and her remarkable contraptions.
As the light began to spread, the figure Dellinian had been following started to run towards the nearest exit.
Now, we can't have that, Dellinian thought.
"Halt!" he ordered. Not surprisingly, the person did not obey. Raising his weapon, Dellinian fired a warning shot at the fleeing figure. His bullet grazed his opponent's shoulder, exactly as he had intended.
Whomever he was shooting at froze, which Dellinian considered a wise move.
Taking his time, Dellinian made his way towards his stagnant rival. The unnatural darkness proved that the other had some magic tricks up their sleeve, and, though he felt fairly confident in his own bag of tricks, Dellinian had long since learned to be careful.

To be continued...

(assuming I ever get around to it)

-The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

Thanks to http://jadeassassin.weebly.com/1/post/2009/03/writing-prompts-story-generator-fantasy03092009.html for the story prompt!

Life, the Universe & Everything

2010-02-14T22:29:00.000-08:00

Some day, I am going to be rich and famous (well, at least published) and someone is going to try to write my biography. I say "try," because when they do they are going to have to track down all of my diaries and blogs ... and there are a lot of them. If this does not drive them crazy, the fact that 499 out of every 500 posts says absolutely nothing at all will. This will cause my biographer to want to track me down and stab me with a spoon.
Can you imagine writing that?
Then, when Miss Larson was 32 years of age, she was brutally murdered by her irate biographer, namely, me.
That felt good, and the kind judge let me off with only a warning because he felt I was justified in killing her.

This weekend, I was lucky enough to be able to attend the Life, the Universe & Everything writing convention (LTUE). My friend M and I went down together. It was SOOOOOOOO much fun! I learned loads, and it was a great way to refresh my excitement for writing. I feel that this is the biggest reason for writing cons, groups, clubs, and even classes. Forget learning from the pros. Forget being critiqued. Forget getting together with other geeks who have watched Doctor Who and read Harry Potter. The most important reason to get together with other writers is to feed off of one another's enthusiasm. It is just good to know that I am not the only geek out there.
One of the classes I went to was about writing a good blog. This class was actually so boring that I began writing this blog post in the middle of it. However, it did make me want to start taking my blog writing seriously -- especially if I wanted to get published within the next couple of years. I also really like what Sandra Taylor, one of the panelists, said about blogging: "The world is full of little stories, and I am like a small child, who wants to catch them, like moths, and show them off to people: 'See, look what I found!'" (mind you, I am totally paraphrasing.)
Few of the LTUE classes were as dull as the blogging one (though I must admit that during one of them I was writing the same notes that I used to write during math class: Kill me! Just kill me now!!!) In fact, most classes were quite informative, and some were downright hilarious. We talked about the Mentor character, and how to create a wizard that is not Gandalf, Merlin, or Dumbledore. The class on strong female characters was pleasantly surprising -- I had been expecting a feminests' rant, but instead we talked about having a strong character who is still feminine. I loved the class on how we should stop killing dogs and mothers -- why are our heroes always orphans whose dog dies half-way through the story? The list of great classes goes on and on.
Probably my favourite thing about LTUE, however, was the chance to hear Brandon Sanderson speak. (He is the author of the Alcatraz books, Elantris, the Mistborn trilogy, and the one who was chosen to complete Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time series.) Sanderson is my new hero -- seriously, I want to be him when I grow up! During the panel on Mormons in Fantasy, Brandon Sanderson asked why Sci-Fi and Fantasy sell an inordinate amount in Utah, whereas these genres hardly sell at all along the "Bible Belt." Why do Mormons love Fantasy, whereas so many other Christian religions go so far as to say it is sacrilegious and even satanic? Someone, who was probably LDS and totally joking, called out: "Because Mormons aren't Christian!" This is at BYU, mind, and most of the audience laughed. Brandon Sanderson, however, was completely serious when he said: "We shouldn't say that, even in jest. I am a Christian, and I am sick of people saying otherwise." M and I had to cheer for him when he said that. Brandon Sanderson writes Epic Fantasy for a national market, but, unlike some people I could mention, does not feel he has to drop his standards to write a good book. His writing is free from cursing and immorality and, basically, everything that keeps me from reading adult fantasy and certain books about sparkly vampires.
Okay, really, I am not being paid to promote Brandon Sanderson -- though I do highly suggest you check out Alcatraz Versus the Evil Librarians (which was written in sixteen days, and apparently dictated to a plant).
As I say, LTUE greatly encouraged my own writing. I got some brilliant ideas for beginnings and for characters and for how to create a story by starting out with nothing but a basic setting, general character, and sketchy problem. I also learned a bit about NaNoWriMo, and plan on participating in it this year. For those of you who do not know, NaNoWriMo is where writers all over the country (possibly all over the world) write 50,000 words during the month of November. That's 50,000 words in 30 days. That's 1,667 words a day. I will write more about this in October. I am WAY excited!

As many of you (okay, two ... three if my mother happens to be reading this) of you know, I have started a club for teen writers: The Society Of Literacy And Bananas! Association (SOLAB!A). We are just a group of amateur writers who meet in my basement to eat snacks, obsess over Doctor Who, and talk about writing.
Our first meeting was last month, and went, I think, really well. Everyone wrote from the writing prompt: Death was last seen at the auction house, looking worried. This was a ton of fun, because we got so many personifications of Death. Death was a man, a woman, or an event. Death was evil, kind, or flirty. It was really brilliant.
This week, the members are each supposed to bring their notes about observations they made while People Watching. Then, we will do a five-minute writing on each "character." I really hope this goes well.
LTUE gave me a MILLION ideas for activities to do at SOLAB!A. I'm going to have no trouble plotting the next several meetings.

I guess that for those of you who are new to my blogs, I should tell you a bit about myself and my plans for future blogging.
For one, feel free to check out my old blog: http://www.donteatthecat.blogspot.com/. However, be warned: The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop is not responsible for any loss of IQ points or injuries sustained by banging one's head against the desk caused by reading donteatthecat. You read at your own risk.
Anyways, apart from that, I'm just a random teen who spends all her time either doing school through Utah Virtual Academy (UTVA) or writing. Mostly writing. Oh, and watching Doctor Who.
It is my goal to put up a blog post every Monday, and post a piece of writing (either answering a prompt, writing flash fiction, or a poem I wrote at a ridiculous time of night) on Tuesday-Saturday. I hope you enjoy my blog. PLEASE comment, even if it is just to say: "I read this. It was stupid."

Always bring a banana to a party!

Love from,

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

About Me

2001-11-01T01:40:00.000-08:00

By reading this blog, you will probably learn far more about me than you ever wanted to know, but here are some of the basics:

I am sixteen years old, and I dropped out of High School. Soon I will be enrolled in Bridgerland Applied Technology College, where I will be taking my GE classes. It's my master plan to major in Psychology.

I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and not only am I not ashamed of my religion, I have a tendency to bring it up ALL the time. What can I say? I love my church ^_^

I am an aspiring novelist -- I've completed 13 novels, but I'm keeping the title of "aspiring" until I have something published. Hopefully that will be sooner rather than later, but we'll see. I'm working on it.

I am the founder of a teen writing group and podcast called The Society of Literacy and Bananas! Association (SOLAB!A for short). Some day I will probably drop dead because of this stupid club, but I love it dearly, and dedicate most of my time to it.

An obsessive hoby of mine is listing random facts. Often about myself. I hope that doesn't make me narcisstic... or OCD... or hungry... oh, wait, I'm always hungry. Never mind. I'm also really punchy, which is what happens when I write at one o' clock in the morning... which happens more frequently than I really ought to admit.

I am a geek. You may already have inferred that from the name of my blog and the fact that my picture is of me as Princess Lea (which, by the way, was the coolest costume ever ... except my costume this year, which I will eventually post pictures of). My geeky obsessions include, but are not limited to: Doctor Who (the best show on television), Star Wars IV-VI (just about the coolest movies ever made), D&D (definitely the coolest game of all times, though I currently do not have a group and so can only play online), and Doctor Who (wait, did I already say that?) I'm actually not much of a computer geek... since computers pretty much hate me. Be impressed that I can do a blog and a podcast (but, actually, don't be that impressed -- my parents are computer geeks, I just make them help me).

I enjoy acting, but I do not sing, which is kind of tragic, since musicals are more popular than plays. It's my dream to get into movies, which does not require nearly as much singing. However, that dream is even more unrealistic than becoming an award-winning novelist.... Then again, the only way to accomplish amazing things is to set unrealistic goals.

Anyway, writing, religion, being a geek, and acting... there's not much else to say about me. Besides I'm awesome. And... nope, that about sums it up.

The Hot Girl in the Comic Shop

I Exist!

*rolls eyes*

Visit Canada!

NaNoWriMo, Day 5 -- FAIL

NaNoWriMo, Day 4

NaNoWriMo, Day 3

NaNoWriMo Begins and I Talk About Stuff

Death's Door, Day 5

Death's Door, Day 4

Death's Door, Day 3

Death's Door, Day 2

Door, Day 1

Life

Titles

In the Beginning...

Writing, Movies, Geekdom, more Writing

Dead People at 2 a.m.

♫♪My wish is your command♪♫

Survivors

Prologue

Wait

Hey, where's Perry?

Writing

Strong & of a Good Courage

Cucumbers Taste Pink

Link to a Writing Web Site

Writing Goal...

Adjectives

1000 Words (more or less)

Destroying Things

Driving You Crazy

What NOT to do

Alphabet Adjectives

Ten Letters

The Return of Magic

Life, the Universe & Everything

Archives

About Me

rolls eyes