July-Beautiful People: Author Writing Process Edition

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.

  1. 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!

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(actual footage of me trying to create words)

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. 

Until next time,

Catherine

Steady As She Goes

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!


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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.

Steady as she goes.

 


 

Brielle

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?)

Enjoy 🙂


Brielle blog
(Photos taken from unsplash.com. pixlr.com used for editing/color manipulation and text)

Goodbye Brielle…

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

See you next week with another songfic!

Catherine

Captains of the Sky

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 🙂


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Artwork credit: Me 🙂

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 🙂

much love,

Catherine

I Promise I Shall Someday Come to a Decision (by Fall Out Boy)

Hey everyone! My imaginary friend started a blog. He hasn’t really written anything yet, but I promise it’ll be great!

Life, the Universe, and Apple Pie

/\ There. Go follow him.

No pressure 🙂

Serial Story Update (since I know you’re all so excited):

I am in the middle of a meeting with the muses and soon we shall be decided about a topic. Currently the choices are between:

1. One of the books in my fantasy series: Forest of Secrets

2. My camp nano july project from last year, Timely Gifts

3. Something completely made up just for you guys 🙂

Anyway, thanks for reading and I promise I’ll be back soon with a longer and more important post.

Ciao for now

Catherine

April Camp Nano Project + I need your opinion :)

Sorry for being really inconsistent with keeping up with my blog and posting on a regular schedule I bet no one missed me, so I might as well resume my posting starting off with what has been keeping me absent, and I’ll finish up with a question for all you wonderful people out there who read my blog!

Besides work, school, psychology exam (I passed!), preparing for the Goldstone Wood Fanart contest, chicken pox, life, and procrastinating in general, most of my time has gone towards working on my Camp Nano project. It’s unofficially titled “The Shark Story” even though, funnily enough, there are no sharks in my fantasy world (emphasis on fantasy). 

The Shark Story is a novel that I’ve been writing off and on since I was thirteen. The main character is a boy named Piper (named before I realised that Piper is actually a girl’s name…) and he stows away on a ship and becomes a pirate. It follows him growing up as a pirate, and documenting the various choices he makes in his life, some good, some bad, and basically I don’t want to tell you any more or I’ll spoil the book.

Also, since I pants most of my novels, there isn’t much more to it than the basic plot (which was written down when I was fifteen and hasn’t changed much since), so I don’t have anything to spoil you with…

The question that is probably on your mind right now: If it’s about Piper and pirating and there aren’t any sharks in your obviously fantasy world, why is it called the Shark story?

Well, there is a secondary character who ties this story into my master series (see this page for more clarification because I’m not going to explain it here) and his name is Shark. Shark is short for something that I forget. I’ve been avoiding the story he first showed up in for a reason. Also, I love my secondary characters so much, it’s no surprise that I would name an entire novel after one of them.

Now, the next question you should be asking is: How is it going?

Heheh…not well. You would think that when I was ill with the chicken pox earlier in the month and therefore free from college attendance and working I would have spent more time on my writing. I can’t remember what I did with my time, but it wasn’t spent working on my nano project. I lowered my wordcount from 50k to 30k and I’m at 18k right now and I’m scared that I might not finish.

And, because this is a rough draft, I can justify making up words and inserting notes in the document so I can boost my word count:

“Men, we have a mission to complete within the next two months. There is a fleet of ships from the country of Not Armilos (please think of name) that will be sailing through the western ocean…”

(I wouldn’t mind some imput on what to call the country because all of a sudden I can’t call it anything but Not Armilos in my head and it’s driving me nuts)

I know this is probably a boring post since I’m not really talking about plot or characters, but here’s some excellent cover art designed by my best friend, with a very unofficial title (though it is accurate, I guess).

The Shark Story.PNG
Designed by Wyn E. Owens

So now for the fun(ish) stuff.

I’ve been wanting to write a serial story for some time, but I can’t decide if I’ll do one or not because I know I will never be able to live up to amazing stories like Tried and True or Blank Mastermind. I have a few ideas and was planning on asking you guys which story you wanted, but then I realised I need to find out if you even want me to do a serial story.

Just let me know what you think! I will listen to all your wonderful opinions.

Would you like it if I wrote a serial story

(polls)

Thanks for reading!

Have a great day 🙂

Catherine

“Heartless” Word Crawl

Goldstone wood word crawl
Yes. I drew that picture. Yes. I am proud of it.

In preparation for Camp NaNoWriMo I wrote a word craw to the story of “Heartless” by Anne Elisabeth Stengl, and I thought I’d share it all with you guys in the case that you’re a fan of the book and need something to help with motivation while you crank out however many words your project is this session.

Apologies, for it is a bit long, and do not read further if you have not finished this book, because there are spoilers ahead.


You and your brother go down to the Old Bridge nearly every day. Send your brother on a quest to find the Flowing Gold of Rudiobus. Sprint for ten minutes as he searches for the gold, giving you time to work on your poetry.

You decide you want to cross the bridge. Write 100 words before you see something golden on the other bank of the stream.

It’s a blind cat! Word war for five minutes as you and your brother argue over what to do with it.

Five years later, you are a princess of an age to be courted and married. Write 500 words as you wait for potential suitors to come calling.

They don’t seem to be anywhere in sight, so Nurse sends you off to your history lesson. Write for 20 minutes as you wait for the history lecture to be over.

Suddenly, you look out the window and what is it but the 12 year market? Attempt a 50 headed hydra as you race to the courtyard to escape your studies.

The market is amazing! There are extraordinary vendors selling wares out of this world. You try to see everything there is to see, but there is so little time! Choose something to observe closely:

The Unicorn Fry: write the last three digits of your word count

Malgril’s silver statues: sprint to the nearest thousand

The fabrics of the feather haired woman: finish the scene you are writing

Your brother tries on a pair of seven-league boots. Needless to say, one moment he’s there, another he’s gone. Write 200 words while sir Oeric goes off to find him.

You get bored after a few minutes, so you decide to explore some more. You meet a mysterious goblin who offers to show you your fortune. Write for 10 minutes as you enter the tent.

Torkom, the fortune teller, hands you a concave shield, a dragon’s scale, and urges you to look into it. Sprint to 500 words as you see terrible things.

Prince Aethelbald pulls you away from the fortune teller and you instantly forget everything you saw. Write for 15 minutes as you curse the red blotches that appear in abundance across your nose as you voice your disapproval to this remarkably unnoticeable man.

Next thing you know, the Prince of Farthestshore is coming to dinner. Write 300 words while you complain about him to your Nurse.

Your dress barely leaves you any room to breathe. Sprint to 100 words as you try to get comfortable amongst your many skirts and bothersome hair plumes.

Aethelbald comes to dinner and, before soup is served, proposes to you. Attempt a 50 headed hydra as you refuse his proposal of marriage, feeling more embarrassed by the minute.

You have a terrible dream that night. Write for ten minutes as you try to remember what happened in it.

Write to the nearest thousand as you embroider your best bean-men onto the tapestry of The Bane of Corrilond.

Give Monster a bath. Word War for 20 minutes as you fight a battle against your cat. If you lose: Write 100 words as you try to bandage the cut Monster leaves on your nose.

Prince Gervais has arrived to pay his respects! Sprint to 500 words as you quickly stuff yourself into your best dress.

Write for ten minutes as you listen to Gervais brag about his time hunting dragons.

You go for an early morning walk in the garden. Who comes and sings you a romantic song but Prince Gervais himself? Write as fast as you can for five minutes as your heart increases its pace.

Eanrin does some surreptitious research for his prince. Write 100 words as Felix eavesdrops on this conversation.

Your heart is crushed when Gervais is forced to leave because of his gambling habits. Write for 10 minutes as you blame it all on Aethelbald.

Eanrin gives Aethelbald some love advice. Sprint to 200 words as Aethelbald considers a career in mousing.

Summer begins and you go for a walk. Word war for 10 minutes as you watch the guards keep a Jester from entering the courtyard.

You follow the path into the woods and come to the old bridge. Write 300 words as you write a poem to the song of the thrush.

Aethelbald comes from the other side of the creek. Write for 5 minutes as he converses with you about your poetry.

As you’re walking home, a figure falls from the top of the wall right on top of you. Write 3% of your word count as you meet Leonard the jester.

Leonard performs for you and your family. Write 300 words as you are entertained.

Aethelbald lets you know he is leaving. Sprint to 100 words as you give him a piece of your mind.

The news comes of your newest suitor. The Duke of Shippening. He arrives five days later. Write the last three numbers of your word count as Leonard sings a song mocking the Duke.

Leonard reveals himself as Prince Lionheart of Southlands. Sprint to 500 words as he bids you farewell and you give him your heart.

Word war for 15 minutes as you and your father have a conversation about two completely different people.

Leonard-Lionheart has been gone for a long time and every day you long for his return. You take a trip down to the old bridge and there on the far side of the bridge is the Dragon. Write furiously for 10 minutes before he forces you to invite him over for dinner.

You are now a prisoner inside your own home. Everything is grey and covered in ash. Write 100 words as you bemoan your fate.

The Duke of Shippening comes and asks the Dragon for you on the grounds of a promise. Sprint to 200 words as you anxiously listen to their conversation.

The Dragon tells you that Leonard forgot all about you and is now settling down with his childhood friend. Write for 10 minutes as you insist it isn’t true.

Felix, on the run from the armies of the Duke, is attacked by a dragon. Attempt a 50 headed hydra as he fights back. If you fail: Write 200 words as Aethelbald fights off the dragon.

The Dragon speaks to you. You come to him one day and he gives you a kiss. Sprint to the nearest thousand as you are changed into a dragon.

Roll a die and write 100 times what you roll. You fly through many cities, burning.

In a town, you see Prince Gervais. He does not recognize you. Word war for 10 minutes as you burn once again.

Felix is safe in the Prince’s Haven in the care of Dame Imraldera. Take a 10 minute break as he recuperates.

You come to Southlands and a Veiled girl comes to you. Write 300 words as you accept her help.

You see Leonard standing next to his bride-to-be. He sees you in the crowd. Write for 10 minutes as you wait for him to come to you.

You call him a coward for not having killed the dragon and burn once again. Sprint to 200 as you flee.

Flying across the desert, you soon come to the home of dragons. A yellow-eyed boy takes you under his wing and gives you a tour. Write for 20 minutes.

Aethelbald comes to Lionheart for help. Write 120 words, 10 for each man who Lionheart sent.

Aethelbald is captured by the dragons. Sprint for 15 minutes as you listen to Diarmid’s tale.

Attempt a 50 headed hydra as you steal the key to Aethelbald’s cage from the Bane of Corriond. If you fail, the key falls out of your hand and sprint to 400 words as you pick it up before she can see it.

Felix is determined to leave the Haven. Write 300 words as Imraldera tries to keep him back.

Write for 20 minutes as Aethelbald convinces you to come with him.

Diarmid finds you escaping. Word war for 10 minutes as you fight.

You fly away, and wake up on a beach. Write for 30 minutes as you have a conversation with someone you cannot see.

Aethelbald offers to change you back from a dragon, and you accept. Write 200 words as his sword pierces your chest and you lose your fire.

The dragon begins looting your father’s storehouses. Roll a die and try to write 200 words in that number of minutes.

Aethelbald gives you his heart and you free your father and brother from the Dragon. Sprint to 300 words. Aethelbald goes to fight the dragon.

In the form of a thrush, Aethelbald enters the Dragon’s mouth and in man form stabs his sword into the dragon’s brain, killing him. Write for 10 minutes to release the tension you felt throughout the battle.

You and Aethelbald get engaged. Write 500 words in 15 minutes as you plan your wedding. If you fail, write 100 words while Felix is stuffed into the latest Parumvir fashion.

Your wedding is held by the sea, and you begin to see the faeries all around you. Sprint to 200 words as you look at them, then have a well earned rest, as Aethelbald takes you to his country.


Have fun at camp!

See ya ’round!

Catherine

Beautiful People~Zane and Jewel

Today I am doing Beautiful People, which is something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time but haven’t done because I am not an ambitious person (my character flaw, everyone) and I couldn’t think of a good character to do. However, when reading through this post (which is focused on couples thanks to Valentine’s day), my OTP popped into my head and now I just have to do it about them.

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This is supposed to be a button. I hope it works

I would like to introduce to you Zane and Jewel. They’re not really from a WIP, although I

zanejewel
{Pinterest bc I can’t draw well enough to do them justice}

have written a few one shots featuring them. They’re actually side characters from two projects in the same universe that I just decided would be stinking cute together, and they have since turned into my OTP.

1. How and why did they meet?

Zane was a sophomore in college when Jewel came to school and they both hung out in different circles, but they would see each other around campus or in class. However, the first time they spoke was the time Zane asked her out on a dare from his best friend.

2. What were their first impressions of each other?

Well, for Zane I know it was pretty much love at first sight (so cliche, I know). Jewel, going off the first time they spoke, saw him as awkward and adorable which are the probably the best adjectives to describe him.

3. How would they prove their love for each other?

Zane proves his love for Jewel by staying up late to talk with her (although he has been known to fall asleep around midnight, even in the middle of a sentence once), or watching a movie with her even when he sees that as a horrible way to spend time together. Jewel proves her love by giving him a hug or a kiss at random times, or forgoing a social gathering so they can hang out, even if that time is spent doing nothing.

4. What would be an ideal date?

Doing something they love together, whether it be taking a walk in the park, or going to the beach. They’d talk, mostly having deep conversations that can migrate into stupid little arguments over anything from grammar to whether the book was better than the movie.

5. Is there something they empathetically disagree on?

It would probably be theology. Jewel is a more of a charismatic Christian, while Zane is Presbyterian. They do have arguments about baptism, which might turn into a problem when they have kids, but they both are people willing to compromise, so I’m certain they’ll think of a way to make both of them happy.

6. List 5 “food quirks” they know about each other. (Ex: how they take their coffee, if they’re allergic to something, etc….and feel free to mention other non-food quirks!)

1. Zane doesn’t like the taste of coffee, but Jewel does. However, caffeine doesn’t work on her while it works on him, so college forced Zane into a coffee addiction.

2. Zane and his pal JJ love donuts, although Jewel introduced Zane to his favorite type of donut: Boston Creme.

3. Jewel is rather health conscious, and is incredible at coming up with innovative ways to eat gluten, sugar, and/or dairy free although she generally keeps it a secret from everyone.

4. They met in a coffee shop and meet there at least once a week and they chat about life and compare notes for their shared classes.

5. Zane’s hair is always sticking up in several directions because when he’s nervous he runs his hands through it.

7. What’s one thing they know about each other that no one else does?

Jewel knows about Zane’s family problems. He has a whole family with his mother and father happily married, and a few siblings, but he feels pressured to live up to their expectations, and thinks doing otherwise will bring their disappointment upon him. Jewel has a lot of private thoughts, despite being an open and outgoing person, but there are hardly any things that just Zane knows, for she also shares a lot of her deep and dark secrets with her friend group back home.

8. What’s one thing that they keep a secret from each other?

Jewel has a tendency to not talk about her family, so Zane knows little in regards to that part of her. Zane doesn’t usually keep secrets from her, so the only reason Jewel wouldn’t know something about him is if she doesn’t ask him about it.

9. How would their lives be different without each other?

Jewel: Without Zane, she probably would have gone the path that she went even when they were in a relationship. she would have graduated college, gained her teaching degree, and went on to work, although she might have wound up in a different career without his helpful advice. However, the main difference is that she probably would not have as much fun in her life. She’s not a pleasure seeker or anything, but Zane brought out her sense of humor and showed her an adventurous part of her. Without him, those would both remain deep inside of her.

Zane: Without Jewel, he also would probably have gone the same path of life with his career choices and everything, but without her, there are also parts of his personality which would have remained a secret. He would not have become as outgoing, or happy. Also, with Jewel’s influence, he probably would never have decided where he stood on multiple issues.

10. Where do they each see this relationship going?

Neither of them have a desire to date just “for fun”, so they are in this with long term views. However, both of them are reluctant to mention marriage because they are still young and don’t know how the other would respond, or their families. Sadly (for them) I am the only person who knows their future.

So that’s it! Thank you for reading. Let me know if you want me to ever share any of my writing with these two.

God bless!

Catherine

 

Quest for the Fire Eyes pt. 2

Okay, I am not planning on making this story into a serial. I’m actually planning on publishing it (starting small so I can test the waters, as it were) so I don’t want to necessarily put it all on here. However, I will be giving you guys a little more so as to make you give me money when I finally publish it so as to satiate your desire to finish be nice and …generous…

haha. I am actually doing this because I really have nothing else to do. I’m in the process of participating in a group project for my Psychology class (look at me. taking a college course. I’m so grown up), and we only have two weeks to prepare, and now the presentation is coming up in two days. Hashtag this is causing me a lot of stress. I just cant take the time writing something profound or exciting.

So instead of me talking about boring things like my artistic endeavors or my complaints with the world, you get some more Quest for the Fire Eyes. Just after I stop all this talking.


Emera knew it was silly to insist that the bird was real. No one believed her. She knew Korin was kind, and did not mention to her the fact the he thought her imagination was wild, and because he was her friend, he also kept his opinions to himself and did not gossip like the other staff at the castle. Her father had dismissed these visions as a fancy of the young vixens mind.

Emera was now thirteen years old. Every season since her fourth spring, the bird had appeared. She knew it was the same bird because of the way it looked at her. It never talked, although the look in its eyes proved ||| it could, and Emera was merely waiting for the moment when it would speak.

When she was not sitting under the tree waiting for the bird, Emera was off attending to her studies or she was pestering Korin.

Korin was a simple palace guard, oft absent from his duties as his services were rendered unto the princess. Emera treated him as a big brother almost as often as her best friend. She confided in him and was constantly following him around. He was sixteen years her elder.

Emera was in the garden one afternoon, stretched out upon the low wall between the garden and the courtyard. She looked downwards at a climbing plant with bright flowers in a trumpet shape. The star pattern inside set it apart and made it her favorite. She loved the stars. The vole gardener, Marty, had said it was a Morning Glory. She had almost tripped over him while she inspected the blossoms a couple seasons ago. Voles were usually much smaller than foxes, thus explaining her clumsiness. She often didn’t pay much attention to where she was going.

Emera was bored. The flowers could only do so much to lift her spirits. The fall breeze made her sleepy, but she could not sleep. She wanted to explore, but she had already travelled every single corridor in the castle, climbed every tree in the courtyard, and smelled every flower in the garden. She wanted to do something exciting.

An idea rushed into her head, taking only a moment for her to label it as a good one. She jumped up and raced to find Korin.

Korin was on duty, and Emera found him right outside the door to the throne room. “Korin!” She exclaimed breathlessly. “Can you take me to the town?”

Korin shushed her, then looked at her curiously. “Why do you want to go there?”

“I’ve explored everything in and around the Castle. I’m tired of it! I’ve looked out upon the town from the windows, but I want to go out there and actually experience it and explore!”

“You will have to ask your father.” Korin replied, his voice much softer than the princess’s.

“He wouldn’t mind so long as you are with me.” Emera looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

“Your majesty, would you allow me to finish one shift without having any interruptions? The captain doesn’t take too kindly to my absent records.”

“Oh. I am sorry,” Emera apologized, her face falling into a frown. Korin had become much more critical of her antics now that she was older. “Will you take me after your shift if father says yes?”

“I would be honored.” Korin replied.

Emera scampered off, hopeful because of his promise. She spent this time waiting in the castle, exploring the halls some more, even though she knew them by heart, although she usually confined this exploration to rainy days when she could not be out in the garden, or pestering Korin. At one point she had found a picture of her mother. It was a full length portrait in a hall lined with paintings of ancestors gone by, none of which she recognized. Her mother looked regal, her dark fur sleek, and blue eyes bright. She was a rare beauty. “The only fox in all of our kingdom with a pelt that color,” her father had explained once when they stood looking at the picture together. The queen in the portrait wore a golden circlet upon her head. A green stone was set in the front. Emera always got the feeling that her mother was looking at her with those radiant eyes. She had never known her mother, and this picture felt like the only connection between them. “I’m going exploring with Korin today,” she told her mother, as she stood before the portrait once more.

Her mother did not answer, but Emera did not care. She skipped off.

Emera kept on returning to the throne room door to see if Korin was done. Finally, his shift ended, around the fifth time Emera checked on him. “Let’s go let’s go let’s go!” Emera said.

“Remember, only if he says yes,” Korin replied, hoping she hadn’t forgotten about asking permission.

Emera dashed out of the wide doors and across the courtyard which was dim in the evening light. She always knew where her father was at this time of night. He kept to a regular schedule, and was predictable in almost everything he did. That was why she was scared that her father would not give her permission. Emera slid through another door at the other end of the courtyard, ran down a hall, and skidded to ||| a halt in front of an ornate mahogany door, and discreetly knocked, her heart beating quickly, a little nervous at facing her father.

“Come in,” the king invited, his voice muffled by the door, but still discernible.

Emera entered the room, while Korin remained behind, although she left the door open for when he decided to follow her.

The king stood in the massive library, a book held between his fingers. He turned and beheld his only child, closing the book and placing it on a nearby table. He looked old. His muzzle was snowy white, and his ruddy fur was taking on a roan color. His eyes were loving and sad, but a smile greeted his daughter. Despite his attempts to appear happy, joy was not in his smile, and that made Emera feel sorry for him.

“Father,” Emera began, pushing aside her feelings. “Would you permit me to go into town?”

“What would you do there?” The king inquired, his face betraying no surprise, although this was the first time Emera had ever spoken of visiting the village.

“Look around, see what life is like outside this castle,” Emera answered, hopeful for his approval.

King Ellon sighed. “Are you still seeing the birds?”

“The bird,” Emera corrected. “Yes father. But that has nothing to do with—

“No, Emera I think it would be best for you to remain here until you are old enough.”

“But I would not be going alone!” she protested. “I would take Korin with me. He’s already agreed.”

Are you certain you can trust him?” Ellon inquired, his worried expression at the talk of the bird fading into a smile.

“Why do you doubt it?” Emera replied, catching the teasing In her fathers tone, barely able to suppress a grin of her own.

“I guess you could go then,” Ellon replied, reopening his book.

“Thank you father!” Pure joy flooded her face ,”I’ll get Korin and we can go right now!”

“Whoa!” Ellon cautioned, drawing his eyes away from his book at this rash decision by his daughter. “it is quite late out and there would be nothing to see. Wait until tomorrow.”

“But Korin will be on duty tomorrow!” Emera pointed out, suddenly crestfallen at this turn of events.

“I can give him a day off.”

“But the captain of the guard will surely fire him!” Emera cast a glance back at her friend, suddenly scared that her decision to go out had cost him his employment.

“I’ll see to it that he won’t, her father promised.

“Thank you!” Emera curtseyed where she stood, then exited the room, shutting the door behind her.

She decided to make up for lost time by deciding what she was going to do on the morrow.


okay, I hope you guys liked that. 🙂 I know this scene doesn’t really further the plot, although it leads up to one that does. It might eventually go as I rewrite this story.

Thank you for reading and let me know what you thought of it!

Quest for the Fire Eyes

A few days ago while checking the forums on NaNoWriMo, I discovered this thing called a “goal tracker” and I decided to use it because, why not? Using this tool, I made a goal of editing and finishing (yes, I still haven’t finished it yet) a novella I started two years ago, although currently it is the length of a novelette, but who pays attention to those kinds of things? #notme

The working title is “Quest for the Fire Eyes”, which I literally just came up with five seconds ago.

And here is a blurb I came up with on the spot too:

Legend has it that the Snowbirds are the heralds of death. They come to unsuspecting creatures in the night as an omen of their passing life. 

Emera, a white pelted vixen, knows of the Snowbirds. One appeared on the night her mother died and now the entirety of her kingdom believes her to be cursed. She wonders if the rumors are true for she sees a Snowbird on the first day of every season. Perhaps it is merely a figment of her imagination for she has not died yet. However, when the bird begins to speak, sending her on a mission to save her father’s kingdom, she finds herself on an adventure that could mean either life or death for not only her but an entire race of foxes.

Here is the first chapter or so. Please enjoy, although it’s fine if you don’t. Let me know what you think!


The moon, sovereign of the night sky, shone sliver upon the freshly fallen snow; a blanket of silence over the wintery world.

The bird flew low, just above the surface of the snow. Her shadow traveled beneath her as a quiet companion on this solitary journey. She had left the tree filled world behind her, and was now nearing the end of this long journey, yet she was not tired. This bird was special, spectral, and on a mission.

**********

South and West of the bird’s route stood a castle. A king and queen dwelt there, a pair of foxes. At this moment, late in the evening, the entire castle was awake, but quiet; waiting. The queen, a fair vixen of dark fur, closed her radiant blue eyes in pain, and leaned her head back against her husband. The king was red furred, and wise in his ruling. He gently tried to comfort his wife in this moment of pain, his kind heart feeling the agony as keenly as a knife.

The bird continued on, straight towards her destination, never slowing, never stopping.

A gentle knock upon a door caused the king to look up.  “Who is there?” He inquired. Long ago he had sent all the servants away, and he trusted that none of them would interrupt him. Perhaps he was wrong.

There was no answer to his inquiry. The room was dark except for a glow coming from the fireplace, and a candle upon the bedside table, but they were not enough to drive away the shadows. Then the king looked at the pale stream of moonlight coming from the balcony. The curtains had been pulled aside, and were blowing in the chill breeze. The king did not remember leaving the door open, and felt fear. The breeze became a sharp wind, and it blew its icy breath into the room. The king looked closer at the open doorway. There was a shadow.

The bird stood there, her plumage glowing snowy white despite the moonlight at her back. She was half the size of a fox, with a round head, delicate pointed beak, and soft black eyes. Her wings were folded up to her body. Softly, the breeze ruffled her feathers. A more observant mind would have noticed she was flesh and bone, but the king recalled a legend he had grown up hearing. The snowbirds were said to appear in the darkest part of night. They came to animals who would soon die. Not only were they spirits of the underworld, couriers to death, they also were known to place curses upon unsuspecting animals. The king did not know whether this was true or not, for no one had ever lived long enough to say otherwise. Even still, he drew the queen closer to him in an effort to keep the ominous creature away. The bird stepped closer to the foot of the bed. The king did not know what to do. His queen seemed to be oblivious to all that was going around about her. Her eyes were still closed, and her breathing was labored, her pain almost too much for her to bear. Then the bird spoke.

Her voice was deep and smooth like honey. She spoke slowly, with deep feeling. “Fear not, Ellon. Fear not, Inda. The child you are about to bear is special. She will have a hard life, but perseverance will be hers, for she shall have the blessing of the snowbirds upon her. Keep her safe and close to thine hearts. Love is the greatest gift thou can give her. That is all I have to say to thee.”

Queen Inda opened her eyes, having noticed this night time visitor, and beheld the snowbird.

The bird turned gracefully, and took off through the open door, the curtains fluttering in her wake. Then the glass paneled doors slid shut, back to where they were before this whole encounter. King Ellon was not sure if it was naught more than a dream.

**********

Emera first noticed how different she was from other foxes when she was ||| four years old.

Her favorite haunt was a hollow between two roots of the great oak tree at the far end of the courtyard behind the castle. Ever since she could walk she spent most of her time outdoors unless it was snowing or raining, although that did not always halt her journeys towards the tree. One day, the first one of spring, she was sitting beneath the tree, comfortably settled between the two roots. She had brought her lesson book as something to entertain herself, but it laid unopened by her side. She had other things to do. The courtyard was under spring’s awakening spell. Flowers pushed up between patches of melting snow, and the trees were beginning to show evidence of buds. Emera looked up into the branches, hoping to see if any of the blossoms had appeared yet, and saw a pure white bird looking down at her.

It was so pretty Emera couldn’t resist staring at it in awe. The bird stared back at the little white fox with the bright green eyes, her gaze steady and unwavering. It was not the glance of a common dumb animal, but the look of a wise creature. Emera wondered if she could speak.

Emera finally got up. She ran towards the castle. “Korin!” She cried out as she scrambled over the low wall into the garden, headed straight for the castle. She raced around between the hedges to the last known location of her friend, whose name she was still calling.

“What do you want, my princess?” The owner of that name replied. Korin turned a corner and princess Emera ran right into him.

Korin was a strong young fox of red fur. Emera had to lean her head far back in order to meet his gaze. He looked down at the princess with friendly brown eyes.

“There’s a really pretty white bird! Come see!” Emera skipped off back towards the tree. Korin had no choice but to follow.

Emera sat down once again in her hollow, and looked up. Her smile of excitement was dissolved and her brow creased with worry. “It left,” she said disappointedly.

Korin sat down next to the princess. “That’s alright. Birds do tend to fly off.”

“But it was so pretty!”

“That doesn’t prevent it from moving,” Korin replied.

Emera, suddenly seized by a question, turned to look at her friend. “Don’t they say you see a white bird before you die? A white bird appeared to my mom the day before she died. Does that mean I’m gonna?”

“No,” Korin replied, laughing. However, his laugh was hollow. “No. It’s just a rumor. No one knows for certain that your mother saw one before she died. Besides, where did you hear that?”

“I dunno. I think I heard Edna discussing it with Marty.”

“It’s just rumors,” Korin replied, quickly looking around for signs of the cook or the gardener that Emera had mentioned, “and rumors are hardly ever true.”

“I definitely saw one though,” Emera replied. “I guess we’ll just have to see if I die or not.” She stood up and skipped off, apparently unconcerned by this omen. Korin returned to his duties in a much less carefree manner.

Seasons passed, and the princess grew older. She was observant, and so she noticed on the first day of every season a white bird appeared in the boughs of the oak tree above her hollow. When Emera was seven, in the summer season, she tried to convince Korin to sit with her beneath the tree to wait for the bird. None showed up. Eventually, Korin had to go, and, as soon as he left, the bird appeared.

It seemed that the bird only came for Emera. It was watching her.