I did not mean to neglect posting for two weeks (or however long it’s been).
I’m not going to apologize, no one seems overly concerned, and it’s my blog so I can do what I want, but what I want is to be more consistent in my posting schedule.
It’s going to be hard to try to write consistently, but as my mid year resolution, I promise to post once a week if I can (though I might take a hiatus during November).
Truth be told though, I’ve suddenly been overwhelmed by the amount of things I need to do. Last month, I would have told you that I would take a gap year and make money for college while trying to finish a book and get published.
Plans have changed.
A month later, I am about to start my education with Lumerit. I’m going to be studying psychology (is anyone surprised?). Also, I am writing a Snow White retelling for the Five Poisoned Apples contest and currently it’s trying to become a novel instead of the maximum 20,000 words. Also, I’m working 20+ hours a week and am trying to read 100 books this year. (66 finished so far:) ) (and I created a bookstagram account). Life got really crazy really fast.
Long story short, I am about to become a poor college student living off of ramen (jk) and Chick-fil-A (most likely) and trying to find time for writing between reading and working.
Sorry for telling you everything about my life there, but that’s my excuse for not posting in a while.
Wait I thought I wasn’t going to apologize…
So, goodbye for now. See y’all soon. 😀
(I think my next post will be about my Snow White retelling, so stay tuned in for that!)
A long long time ago when I was younger (okay, maybe only a year ago) I would have told you that I never reread books.
Because despite having a terrible memory, I remembered too much for it to be a worthwhile experience. Because I wouldn’t want to waste my time on something I’ve already completed. They mystery is gone, you already went on that journey. Why bother with it again?
This used to be my thinking. I would look at a book and long to read it again, but something in the back of my head would tell me that I’ve already read it. I already know what happens. I liked it, but there are more important things to devote my time to.
But recently, I’ve taken to rereading books, and I’ve discovered just how much fun it can be.
When reading a good book for the first time, you expose yourself to a new world, new characters, new themes, and scenes. When that story is over, it’s left in your memory as a good time and you move on.
Rereading gives you the opportunity to return to that story, experience those events again. It’s almost like reliving a certain part in your life. Sometimes while rereading, you can remember when and where you were while reading that book, or rediscovering scenes and characters you had forgotten about, or laid dormant in your memory, or themes that you’ve never seen before.
I’ve reread so many books in the last year and each one was an enjoyable experience. Instead of pursuing a new adventure, it’s like reading a diary: something you experienced once, preserved for you to read it again. Instead of diving into the uncertain, it’s curling up in front of the fire with a familiar tome, safe in the arms of the familiar.
So, I can say with certainty that I will be rereading more books in the future: reliving adventures, falling in love with characters again, and learning new things along the way.
I hope that wasn’t too confusing (pardon my rambling thoughts).
Forgive me for being gone for so long, but I come back with a newly discovered hobby/talent.
I discovered that I like photography. I’m not very good at it (yet), but I’m sure with practice I might become okay.
Twenty four days ago, I got a phone. His name is Sam, and he’s an iPhone SE, therefore he has a better camera than my iPod 4, James, or my sister’s iPhone 4. So, the natural thing to do with a better camera is to go out and take pictures.
On Monday, my sister and I took two friends to Lititz Springs Park and, while the sun was setting, we took pictures and had a good time.
Some pictures turned out very well (at least, in my opinion). The sun was setting which was a good opportunity for me to play around with lighting, something I’ve never really bothered with before.
Thank goodness my sister is a willing model. I never look this good in pictures. We didn’t get a lot of pictures–we only had so much time that we could spend in the park–but I am extremely glad that we went.
Now, before I claim to be the only one with an interest in photography within my immediate friend group, it needs to be mentioned that my sister has been interested for a lot longer than I have been and she loves taking nature photos and playing around with poses and setting. Neither of us claim the title of photographer. Though I say she’s better.
And yeah. I’m just writing all these words because I need filler in order to avoid a big photo dump. Though if all you’re here for is the pictures, than by all means, skip the text.
<– Vic is a Ravenclaw, so is Olivia, and Elizabeth is a Hufflepuff. So, as the only Gryffindor in the group, I had to pose with the lion. –>Top: Elizabeth. Left: Vic. Right: Olivia. Bottom: Me.
And now it’s time for the part of the show where we show bloopers:
Left: We found a dead body. JK. Center: Olivia and Victoria take a ride on the Chummy Express. Right: Elizabeth gives Victoria a beard.
Another thing I’ve recently begun to enjoy is photo editing. I’ve been using Pixlr to edit photos for months now and, lo and behold, they have an app so I’m able to edit my photos on my phone. It has tons of filters, overlays, borders, stickers, and fonts. It’s so much fun playing around with pictures and trying out all the different effects.
Left: I upped the saturation and contrast (this is Vic’s favorite) Center: the original. Right: I used the “Splash” tool. (this is my favorite)
Now, for this picture, I had an idea in my head. I wanted a picture of me holding my hand out, basically saying “Nope” “Go away” “Talk to the Hand” “Stop”. A wee bit emo, I admit, but I’m proud of how it turned out after I edited it.
The center is the original. I didn’t like how dark the background was and how the light wasn’t as bright as I was hoping it would be. So, I edited it. The one on the left I did first. I like the colors, though i think I overdid the blur. The one on the right is my attempt to make it brighter and more how I was imagining it in my head. I can’t decide which edit is my favorite.
Anyway, thanks for reading and looking at my pictures!
Often when I read fantasy I wonder how the world could have been around for so long and not be as technologically advanced as our world. Mirrorworld is not like this. it’s is in the middle of it’s industrial revolution but there are still fairy tale aspects to it. It’s realistic, and still fantastical. The characters are wonderful, and the storylines kept me on the edge of my seat.
My main problem with this book was all the foul language and the dirty humor, but the wonderful writing, the characters, and the story itself made up for that. And just Q and his relationship with Margo was so much fun and heartbreak at the same time.
I think I was tired when I wrote the review on goodreads because I don’t remember disliking it that much…anyway, I love the story and enjoyed seeing the differences between the movie and the book. (I kinda prefer the movie. I’m sorry). There was made up swearing, but no romance at all which made my soul happy 🙂
This book was amazing. I loved the message of it, and I’d share my favorite quote but that kinda gives away the book. Ed is a wonderful character, painfully ordinary, but that’s what makes the book so special. The only problem I had with it was the language and Ed constantly thinking about sex. I don’t know if that’s how all allosexuals think or if it’s just him *shrugs*. Anyway, because of that, I would not recommend this for anyone younger than 18.
Every Day is the story of A who falls in love with a girl named Rhiannon, but he changes bodies every day, so he never looks the same, is never the same gender, but is still the same person on the inside. Another Day is the story told from Rhiannon’s perspective. Disclaimer: I believe that homosexuality is wrong, and these books say that it’s okay. But I love the overall message which is that you need to love someone for who they are and not because of what they look like.
So the main reason why I checked this out is because I was curious about the whole racism debate. I didn’t find the book racist, but there were definitely things I didn’t like. I thought the romance was unrealistic and pointless (though there isn’t that much kissing surprise surprise), and there were holes in the worldbuilding that left me as a very confused potato. The cover is pretty though. 🙂
This book blew me away. I loved the story, I loved Eliza, I loved Wallace, I loved Monstrous Sea….I loved everything :). For once, I thought the romance was well done and incredibly cute, and the story within a story was wonderful and now I’m wishing I could read Eliza’s webcomic in it’s entirety. The only downside was the amount of language. It reminded me a bit of Fangirl, but better.
I just finished this book today, and while it’s not my favorite, it was well done, though I found a few plot holes and didn’t like the main character that much. But I love the focus on sibling relationships which filled me with happy. 🙂
Now we reach the conclusion of mymini reviews. Let me know if this convinced you to read any of the above titles, and maybe recommend me some books in the comments :).
I’m excited for another beautiful people since I missed the last few and ~voila~ this month it’s about authors so I don’t have to decide which character to do mine about. Choosing between characters is like choosing a favorite child.
Does this also mean I’m beautiful? *hopefully crosses fingers*
Anyway. Here goes.
Introducing me, the author.
How do you decide which project to work on?
Well, it is a complicated sort of decisions. First I decide based on what I should be working on (usually something I have hopes of publishing) and then go and work on something else. #procrastination
2. How long does it usually take you to finish a project?
Honestly, it depends. My very first novel took me two years, my second one about a year and a half, my third a year, and my fourth one month (my first NaNo). I haven’t finished a novel since NaNo ’15. Short stories, on the other hand, take anywhere from thirty minutes to two years to complete.
3. Do you have any routines to put you in the writing mood?
Freewriting about worldbuilding or character motivations often gives me motivation to work on the actual project. Sometimes I’ll also get in the mood after watching a good movie or listening to an interesting song.
4. What time of day do you write best?
The evening. I am a night owl through and through and will do anything to avoid going to bed.
5. Are there any authors you think you have a similar style to?
Not…really. I don’t think I’ve fully developed my “writing voice”, so it fluctuates from project to project. Though I’ve really been impressed by the style of C. S. Lewis, Anne Elisabeth Stengl, and Markus Zusak, so my style might borrow from theirs.
6. Why did you start writing, and why do you keep writing?
I started because my friend had written a novel and it sounded like fun. I scrapped a few plots and first chapters, then found a good starting point and never really stopped. I keep writing because I think, once I become better, I’ll be able to share through my stories. I want to give people something they will enjoy and show them the things I’ve learned through the challenges my characters face.
7. What’s the hardest thing you’ve written?
Research papers for school. Those are really really hard because you have to research everything and I hate research which is why I do not write historical fiction.
8. Is there a project you want to tackle someday but you don’t feel ready yet?
I want to write a musical soooooo bad. I don’t have any solid ideas yet, but it sounds like a lot of fun. You get to write dialogue, action, lyrics, and music. I’m just not ready yet because my music composition skills are rusty and I can’t rhyme to save my life.
I also want to write a screenplay. I feel more prepared to write a screenplay than I do to write a musical, but I just don’t have any solid ideas yet: just a few started projects that I am rather pleased with but ,sadly, very stuck in.
9. What writing goals did you make for 2017 and how are they going?
One of my two goals for this year is to publish a book.
I don’t know if that’s going to happen. I haven’t been focusing on a project in particular.
But, my other goals for this year are to complete all the NaNos, and so far I managed to complete April’s goal. So far June is a bit rocky, but I’m hoping to catch up soon.
Also, my goal is to finish at least one entry for the Five Poisoned Apples contest. I have two ideas so hopefully I will be able to complete this.
10. Describe your writing process in 3 words or a gif!
So, I hope y’all liked that!
Let me know your own answer to question #8 in the comments. That’s a really good question. I like that one.
They are the times when you go somewhere far away from your normal life and distractions and get closer to God. Often during these experiences we learn who we are, who God is, and what we should do with our lives. But, when we come down from the mountain, we forget what God told us and soon fall back into the patterns we were used to before we left.
Every year, when I go away, I experience a spiritual high of sorts. I hear God speak as I spend time with him far away from my normal life which is buzzing with distractions. But when I come home, all those lessons are forgotten and I return to my usual patterns of life. I know it is the same for most people, but that doesn’t make it any less of a disheartening occasion. I desperately want to change, but I just can’t seem to find the motivation to do so since I’m back in a familiar environment that just urges me to keep doing what I was doing.
Just last week, for the second year in a row after coming home from my experience, I remembered a quote from The Silver Chair that I think speaks to this situation. (In all honesty, the entire book speaks to the Mountaintop Experience, but I won’t quote it all here)
“Here on the mountain I have spoken to you clearly: I will not do so down in Narnia. Here on the mountain, the air is clear and your mind is clear; as you drop down into Narnia, the air will thicken. Take great care that it does not confuse your mind.” -Aslan
Don’t let the busyness of everyday life distract you from what is important: from what you were shown on the mountaintop. As Aslan also says in this chapter, “remember the Signs. Say them to yourself when you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when you wake in the middle of the night.”
Don’t forget. Don’t despair. Keep trying.
This is a lesson I’m still trying to learn, and I know it’s going to be a hard time for me to try to break the old habits and turn out the better from my experiences, but this time I’m relying on God and not myself.
God bless, have a great day, and thanks for reading:)
Now for the third songfiction. This is based off of the song “Steady as She Goes”, the third song on Sky Sailing’s album “An Airplane Carried Me to Bed”. Despite my dislike for first person present tense, I figured this one would sound best in that style.
Anyway, read it (if you dare), and I will be back in a few days!
I wake up at daybreak, my alarm clock going off beside my bed. My eyes open with a start, even though my body is a tad slower. Dust motes float in the golden beam of sunlight peeking beneath the ragged blinds of the only window in my room. I grin in anticipation as I realize what today is. Excitement pulls me out of that bed. I don’t bother making it. I have no need for it.
No more nightmares. Sweet dreams for as long as I can foresee. Storms are turning to fair weather.
I load my bags into the trunk of my car, completely forgetting to eat breakfast. I had left everything I knew behind, chasing vain dreams: a voyage that had left me stranded, but finally, I am returning. The ship is returning to port, fresh breezes pulling at twice mended sails, stale ropes creaking, but alive with the promise of the return. Life has thrown so much at me, yet here I am: still alive.
Taking a deep breath, I start the car and pull out of the driveway. All my belongings are packed in the trunk and I am ready to never see this old apartment again. I turn the radio on and the long highway stretches out before me towards the horizon. As the song that I hardly recognize fills up my ears, my mind turns towards the friends and family who are anticipating my return.
Rachel is back home waiting for me. The thought of her brings a smile to my lips. It is barely morning, the sun still not fully suspended in the sky. long shadows are falling away to the west, pointing my way back home, but she is most likely awake and worrying about my safety. I hope her thoughts are on me even as mine are on her.
On the passenger seat, propped against one of my bags, I had placed the book she had let me borrow last time I visited. I had enjoyed it, even if the only reason I had done so was because she had recommended it. i can not recall the plot line of the book, only that I had thought of her with every turning of the page.
Next to the book, spilling out of the broken zipper of my backpack, is a picture in a simple wooden frame that is more valuable to me than anything. I am standing next to a young woman wearing a graduation cap and gown, holding her diploma above a radiant smile. Sarah had just made her debut on stage, fulfilling her dreams of being an actress on Broadway. This will be my first time seeing my little sister since then. I am so proud of her, and have looked forward to seeing her ever since. We had encouraged her, her angelic voice filling up our home as she practiced, the voice that will fill many theaters in the years to come. Our parents had mailed me a letter filled with newspaper clippings, and I knew we were not the only ones who believed her to be the best. I wonder where both of us would have been without our parents’ encouragement.
If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t be coming back.
My thoughts are elsewhere, but I leave my concentration on the road as the radio plays song after song that I can barely distinguish over the sound of the tires eating up the distance between here and there. I sign proclaims my passing from one state to the next. One less state line between me and those I love. They are always in my heart, and even if I do not tell them that enough, it is one of my most recurring thoughts.
A memory flashes behind my eyes of Rachel and me. We had taken a walk once over the beach, the crashing waves crowned with white, drowning out the words we were trying to say to each other. So we looked into each other’s eyes and kept our thoughts to ourselves. We would try to read each other’s minds (with unsuccessful results), but there is one thing she knows. I’m dying to see her again.
The sun rises and sets over my journey, and I soon see a long familiar country road. i new chapter of my life is starting and I am on my way to a better life, although I do not know what lies out there. This ship might be putting into port, but it is about to head out again on a grander adventure. The seas can change, the tides will turn, but so long as she remains steady, the ship can handle anything.
Hello and welcome to my second songfiction! If you don’t know what a songfic is, I explained it in my previous post, and if that didn’t help anything, maybe google it or leave a comment that I will get to in a week and three days when I get back from my “vacation”.
Titled “Brielle” this is the second song off of the album “An Airplane Carried Me to Bed” by Sky Sailing of which Captains of the Sky is the first song (seeing a pattern here yet…hm?)
He lifted his pen from the paper, thinking about the words he was trying to write. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he couldn’t say. So much he was scared to say.
He sighed and looked at the blank page before him with eyes brimming with tears. Why had he waited so long to write?
He picked up the small photograph that sat next to the letter, on the crate he was using as a table. Bringing it close, he saw the familiar face of Brielle.
I am sailing away, recalling that day miles from shore…
It had been the last time he saw her. They had been young, and carefree…He had teased her about her dress. It was an old thing, white and robin’s egg blue, and had belonged to her grandmother. She wore it in the picture, the muted colors white under the glare of the sun. If he cupped his hand over the small photo, he was able to see her face. Her dark locks framed her heart shaped face and her beautiful sea green eyes stared at him, creased in laughter.
Finally, he knew what to say.
Only whispers can tell of the sweet dreams that we knew so well…
They had spent many hours together, before he had left on this seemingly endless journey. As the ship swayed beneath him on the rolling waves, he wrote, reminding her of all they had said. Sharing their dreams. Sharing their memories. Planning their future.
The frozen days we set ablaze send me drifting away…
Before she had come, he had felt so alone. His days were colorless and meaningless. He trudged from one pointless day to the next. There were so many dark thoughts he had had in those desolate nights, those frozen days where he felt numb. Then Brielle came along, bringing a splash of color; melting his heart and giving him a reason to live.
Like a butterfly you floated by and now you’re alone…
How much he wished he had not left. Wanting to see the world, he had enlisted, not knowing that a certain girl would steal his heart weeks before he had to leave. Like a butterfly, his heart beat for her. He had asked her to come along, but she told him no. He continued writing, finally sealing the letter with a promise.I’ll sail home again…
Strolling over the sand and cobblestone paths that wind through the trees…
The ship sailed into port, giving the sailors a respite from the rollicking wind and waves. The letter was sealed, and the sailor was the first to step off the vessel, his feet meeting the cobblestone paths of the small village built near the sand, on the edge of a forest. It reminded him of a place so familiar, but yet so different. Born for the sea in an oceanside village similar to this one, he had naturally felt the call of strange lands. But now, how he wound up here was anyone’s guess.
Breathing the sweet forest air makes the bluebird aware that she could be free…
He strolled across the sandy dunes towards the forest. A bird fluttered and chirped overhead. He smelled it too. The sweet aroma of pines, once again reminding him of home, and of the freedom he had desired. A gust of wind pushed at his back, hastening his steps. The same bird he had heard overhead swooped down in a flash of blue plumage. He held out the letter and the small songbird took it, flying off into the breeze.
I wish I knew when I’ll be back again…
He waited until he could no longer see the bird. Only then did he return to the village and his voyage. He was beginning to count the months and days until his service was over. Adventure was beginning to lose its flavor, reminding him that soon he would be able to return home.
But until then I wish you well…
The ship sailed away–off towards another destination, led by the untraceable tides of wind and time, fueled by adventure. The sailor stood upon the prow of the boat, scanning the watery horizon for a sign of land, his dark hair blowing in the breeze.
So until then I wish you well…
He thought of Brielle. He wished her all the happiness in the world…and all the hope. Hope was what they needed as they waited see each other again. Inhaling a breath made of salt and breeze, he sighed into the wind. Echoing the closing line of his letter, a statement he had made many times before but was only just beginning to mean, he whispered towards home…
I love you my darling, farewell…
The sun set, dousing the world in darkness but for the stars and the moon, newly reborn. They shone down upon the faces of two lovers separated by seas, continents, and time—but united, if only by something as small as hope.
There’s a handwritten note pressed in the door of her screened in porch…
Well, what did you think?
this is my favorite of my songfics, but don’t tell the rest that because then they’ll think I’m showing favoritism
Today I shall be sharing a songfiction (a short story based off of a song) with all of you. Titled “Captains of the Sky” this is based off of the song “Captains of the Sky” by Sky Sailing (aka Owl City aka Adam Young).
It’s a good song, you should listen to it and then read my songfic 🙂
The sun rose bright and early, setting the world into motion, and the boy awoke with it, flinging himself out of bed. Dashing to the window, he saw the fields across the street and inhaled, feeling his heart beginning to race. The light had not yet banished the shadows from his small room. The silhouettes of model airplanes danced on the green papered wall. Not taking the time to change out of his pajamas, he grabbed the few things he needed, and flew down the steps, nearly falling before he grabbed the railing.
Slamming doors and fleeing feet brought him to her house. She was waiting for him in her driveway, clothed in her pajamas. Having just woken up herself, her face was bright as it reflected the rosy rays of the sun. “Look!” the boy exclaimed, pointing upwards breathlessly.
The girl followed his gaze, her mouth open wide in amazement. Sailboats flew through the air far overhead. “That’s where your dad is?”
The boy nodded vigorously. “I’m going to join him up there!” He dashed away before the girl knew what he was doing and grabbed her bike. The girl stared at him as as he strapped on his helmet and goggles, which he had grabbed from his room. “Ben!” she cried in alarm as he put his hands on the handlebars and his feet to the pedals. “What are you doing?”
“There’s magic in the air, can’t you feel it?” he whispered, pausing momentarily, but before she could respond he took off. In moments he was airborne, the bicycle propelled with what could only be magic. His laughter rang throughout the valley. The girl dashed to the end of the driveway, not wishing to be left behind. He remained in the air for only a short amount of time before he came back, pedals whirling.
Smiling, he held his hand out to her, the bike hovering only inches from the blades of grass. Nervous, but not willing to be scared, she took his hand and squealed as he ascended into the sky with her in his arms. The cool summer wind stung her cheeks, filling her lungs with the smell of pine and the taste of lemon. Her short brown hair flew behind her, tickling the boy’s freckled nose. Below them, the town, like a map, spread out for miles in all directions. It was impossible to tell which houses were their own as they looked down upon the roofs.
Pedaling faster, the boy propelled them into the nearest cloud. Delightedly, the girl took handfuls of the clouds, and blew, spreading the fluffy substance around, small bits coming to land on her nose and in her hair, dampening them with the water inside. She turned around to see the boy, ready to throw some cloud into his face, but she found he was no longer on the bike. “Ben!”
“I’m building a hangar!” he replied. She saw that he was in the cloud right below hers, molding the clouds with his hands and his breath, creating a runway. Laughing, she fitted her feet to the pedals, brought the bike down next to him, and began to help. Above, the sailboats and airplanes continued to soar, not knowing of the two children who had just discovered the magic of flight.
This was not the first time the two friends had attempted to fly. The first time was a long time ago, at the beginning of their friendship. Ben had shown her his room, and proceeded to fold a paper airplane that matched one of his models. “I can fly too,” he bragged after throwing the paper plane across the room, watching it soar across invisible air currents, finally taking flight out of the window and into the sky. “Will you try with me?” he asked, and she had decided to come.
Standing at the top of the staircase, they both jumped, following his instructions. They were airborne for a moment, several moments which gave her the hope that they might just be able to soar right out of the front door and follow the airplane, but it was only a second before they crashed to the kitchen floor, their moment of triumph crushed, but she knew Ben never gave up hope that he could fly again someday. He practiced every day since then, trying to jump off various tall items, or riding his bike as fast as he could down the road, like an airplane down a runway. He chased every strand of magic in the hope that it would bring him his dream, but to no avail. Not until today.
Now the two of them were airborne, blowing the clouds around their hangar. The girl took the bike back down to her house, slipped in through her bedroom window, and grabbed a ream of paper. They spent that sweet summer afternoon sitting on a cloud, folding paper airplanes which they sent off into the distance. They whispered words into them, hoping the strangers who received them would be encouraged by them when they found the small planes sitting on the back porch or the windowsill.
Night descended and they had no intentions of returning home. The cloud had taken them across the valley, and the new view showed them the mountains that were no longer purple. Now they could see the trees growing upon the rocky slopes and the flocks of birds soaring beneath them.
Birds flocked to their hangar. Ben, in a spirit of recklessness decided he was going to join them. The girl barely protested, and watched from the edge of the cloud as he jumped into the air, a mile from the ground, and soared with the birds, his arms outstretched, touching the bright blue wings of the birds beside him. In minutes, he had her joining him, laughing together as the currents of wind took them across the sky, silhouetted against the stars. Soaring up and up, the girl felt certain she could touch them. “I’ll get you one,” Ben promised, almost reading her mind.
He spread his arms like wings and soared higher, his hands folding around a tiny diamond of light, plucking it from the expansive garden of night. Flying back, he presented his gift to the girl. It was no bigger than a daisy, and shaped just like one. She tucked it in her hair and they returned to the cloud.
The morning dawned, the birds flew high, and joined them on their cloud, lifting their voices in song—a beautiful song that the children echoed with their voices. Crawling to the edge of the cloud on their stomachs, they found they were just above their street. They saw their mothers in their yards, and they waved at them. “We should go back down,” she told him.
Ben was in the middle of folding an airplane, his hands frozen upon the center fold. His eyes were looking into the sky. “I’d rather be here,” he told her.
She placed a hand on his. “We’re captains of the sky now. We can come up here whenever we want.”
Giving a sigh of agreement, he took the last piece of paper and folded it meticulously. He whispered in it a soft message, meant for only one person, and sent it off into the sky. It flew up and up into the mass of ships. The magic that had befriended the two children took it exactly where it needed to go.
As the last of the ships passed the horizon, a bicycle carried a boy and a girl down to the ground, to the embraces of their mothers, and a father received a message, wishing him well upon his adventure.
So, I hope you all liked that!
Let me know in the comments if you enjoyed and you want me to post my other songfics (there’s more where this came from). Though you don’t have a choice. Muahaha
Today I leave to go work on support staff at White Sulpher Springs for two weeks (Well, a little more than that). I will be gone until the 24th, and therefore will not be responding to comments or any other type of internet fueled communication. I will be posting more songfics over the next few weeks (yay for scheduling), so look forward to those 🙂
I used to love shopping, but recently I have begun to despise it because it takes too much time; time that I could be spending writing or thinking about writing or another method of procrastination.
But, over the course of the last month or so, I have been shopping a few times and I discovered two stores that I really wish I had encountered a while ago.
Just like with my previous post, Two Amazing Things I Discovered This Week, everyone is probably aware of these stores’ existence, most likely have been there a couple of times, and it’s just me who is uncultured because I never go shopping.
So the first store I discovered was Hot Topic. I had heard about it, mostly on the internet, though one friend had recommended it to me.
My sister decided to go to the mall and I came along, packing a book or two just to make sure I wasn’t bored. It must have been May 2nd because that’s when I started reading Paper Towns. She was looking for a dress. I was looking for something anything that was less than ten dollars (no luck there). The mall is just too dang expensive and I don’t understand why girls would even want to wear half the stuff I saw.
Then, as we were walking around Abercrombie and Fitch or Aeropostale or <insert clothing store name that starts with an “A”>, I happened to see Hot Topic just down the hall. I went in, passing a rack of graphic tees and tanks, the one on the front saying “Panic! At the Disco”, and fell in love.
There was Harry Potter merch in the front of the store: Hogwarts house tanks, Fantastic Beasts necklaces, mugs, pants, and other things. Then I soon found the Doctor Who section, and in the very back there were the band tees. I couldn’t decide which Twenty One Pilots shirt I preferred (there were maybe five styles). The interior was dark and small and they played “Death of a Bachelor”, among other songs that you never hear on the radio. I eventually had to leave, but I returned and finally decided on and bought a TØP shirt.
The second store I discovered was Barnes and Noble. I went there on Mother’s Day with a friend. I absolutely loved walking in and seeing all the books. I know a lot of people talk about smelling books, but I honestly don’t think that books have a smell. Sorry for being a bad bookworm
I wanted to sit there all day and just read all the books. Maybe buy one or two. In the end I bought a book, Made You Up, because I decided to indulge myself instead of doing the usual two hours of research and finding references before I make a purchase. I finally read it two days ago. It was pretty good and from what I understand is a good representation of schizophrenia, not to mention that the cover is beautiful. I did write a review on it, but it’s not all that great because I only spent fifteen minutes on it before I had to leave for work. And….just a little thing that made me happy….on the receipt, they had a list of books that you might like if you enjoyed the book you bought. I’m hanging onto it with the plans of eventually checking out those other books.
And the bags have the first lines of classic novels and beautiful black and white illustrations.
So, now I shall end this post saying that I am no longer fully uncultured and that I shall look forward to going shopping again at these stores.
I AM NO LONGER FULLY UNCULTURED AND I LOOK FORWARD TO SHOPPING AGAIN
Thank you for reading, wonderful person.
Let me know if there’s another fandom or bookish store that I should check out.