The Post About Said.

Said. Simple, easy. I don't really like using descriptive words such as sneered or exclaimed. I really like to have my character do the describing for me. I feel like the emotion or idea I'm trying to get across should be noticeable in what the person says or how their face looks as opposed to me tossing in a word that completely takes away from the total image.

My devotional just told me that this was ok. And I am super happy about it. "Keeping dialogue cues to a minimum lets the true essence of your story shine."

That being said there is absolutely nothing wrong with mixing things up and adding some dialogue cues throughout your writing.
Here are some great ones:

Normal:

• stated
• spoke
• remarked 
• reported
• added

Ask a Question?:

• inquired 
• requested 
• begged

Happily:

• rejoiced
• laughed
• joked 
• giggled
• smirked
• marveled
• cheered
• chimed
• beemed

Angrily:

• demanded
• hissed
• fumed
• thundered
• sneered
• grunted
• roared

Bossily:

• commanded 
• ordered 
• insisted

Quietly:

• mumbled 
• whispered
• muttered

If you guys can think of any more great words to use instead of "said" add them in the comments. Pretty please.

The Post About A Pet Peeve.

I love books and I love to read. I very rarely don't enjoy reading. One thing specifically I will never forget learning from my days as a young school girl is to never leave a book unfinished. You can still appreciate a book you didn't enjoy and instead of leaving it unfinished you can make a solid argument for why you don't like the aforementioned book if you know all the facts. There has been one time so far in my life where I have found finishing a book to be difficult. It wasn't even a long book.

The year was 2006 and it was a required reading for our honors English course. Of Mice and Men by none other than John Steinbeck. I can not stand this book and I usually enjoy reading for school. The Scarlet Letter is a great book. I enjoyed Life of Pi. David Copperfield was a delight. This book, short and agonizing. I understand the concept and what it was trying to represent; the predatory nature of the human existence and the deconstruction of the american dream as well as a number of other themes. I understood it, I had such a difficult time reading it. It may be the time period I live in or that I simply can't understand mob mentality or misunderstanding on such a large scale that multiple lives are the cost. It was hard to get through. In a physical sense, I needed a glass of water.

Books are supposed to get a reaction out of you and for the most part I usually enjoy a book that gets any sort of reaction whether it be happiness or sadness or anger. Not with this book, I can't really explain why this anger is different from the kind I get when I read other books. I suppose I just can't wrap my head around people who don't see an issue or an illness in someone and not be able to take appropriate action. With help and understanding Lennie would have been a harmless guy. I know the time period was one of mis-communication and a lack of medical knowledge but I simply can't get behind this as an excuse. For every doctor out there that thought they knew what they were doing and ended up doing the wrong thing there was a doctor with understanding and compassion that did the proper thing. I suppose I don't like the idea of humanity being so awful.

I also hate sacrificial characters. I hate when a character sacrifices another. It's a literary tool that I can not stand. It's probably why I dis-like this book so much. I hate when people take the choices of others away. A modern example (and all of my friends make fun of me for this) would be Tangled. Lovely movie, beautifully made, the moment Ugene (aka Flynn Rider) cut Repunzel's hair and took away her choice to save him I was completely done. Whether it is the sacrifice of yourself or another person or a freedom I am probably not going to be on board.

Of Mice and Men rubbed me the wrong way. I remember sitting in my room and being so angry towards the end of the book that as soon as it was over I launched it across the room and refused to touch it again. My brother removed it from my presence and I haven't read it since.

"Guys like us, that work on ranches, are the loneliest guys in the world. They got no family. They don't beling no place... With us it ain't like that. We got a future. we got somebody to talk to that gives a damn about us. we don't have to sit in no bar room blowin' our jack jus' because we got no place else to go. If them other guys gets in jail they can rot for all anybody gives a damn. But not us." -- Of Mice and Men

The Post About Motivation Or My Lack There Of

Motivation. Something I have a difficult time with. Unfortunately, my passion and excitement only gets so far and the act I once enjoyed doing starts to feel like work. That is the point I have gotten to with this project. I lack motivation. Not that I don't want to do this or am unexcited by the project. I just seem to work all the time and my free time is precious time. I typically like to fill that time with the precious people in my life and unfortunately I have a hard time balancing what I need to do what I should do and what I want to do when I am my own boss.

So what are the things that get me motivated? Being excited about an idea.
Or my friend Andrew texting me begging for a post and making me feel like he reads this thing. I am trying very hard to re-wire myself and convert my bad behavior. I hope to turn myself into the kind of person that is consistent and so far it doesn't really seem to be working. So If you all could be pushy and help me a little I would really love the help.

So from my motivation page for today I have a quote from my devotional for you. "Positive thinking brings energy and optimism and helps focus our goals and dreams."

Positive thinking. Good start.
So positive things I have heard so far:

• My posts are relatable and some of my friends have said they have felt a connection to some of my writing.

The Post With The Best Animal Ever.

Check out this writing prompt ladies and gentlemen....
                                                                        .....I like animals

Everyone loves animals. Kittens, puppies, snakes, lizards, turtles, lions, tigers, giraffes the list could go on for pages. There are cute ones and cool ones and animals that climb and jump and swim. They make a appearance all throughout literature. There is however one animal story that I have been awaiting anxiously since I was about seven years old and went to an aquarium in Texas and fell in love for the first time with a beluga whale. I am admittedly a beluga whale lover. They are the best animal. They swim and are goofy and wonderful. If you have never seen a beluga whale video or a picture of them making giant air O's in the water I highly suggest you stop what you are doing and get on that. Beluga whales have always cheered me up. I can be having an awful terrible day and not a single joke or funny video can make me laugh but show me a picture of a beluga whale being totally adorable and silly.... I will be rolling on the floor in a fit of giggles. I just love them. Which is why I did at one point make it my mission to track down all the beluga whale stuff I could find. I will tell you right now It is hard. Capital h, hard. There are little to no books on beluga whales and I am referring to fiction books here because I know I could find a ton of Discovery Kid's did you know books. I feel like the beluga whale is a very underrated animal.

Now I know I am not a picture blog and by no means do I want to turn into one. But I am so going to put up some hilarious and awesome pictures of beluga whales for your enjoyment.

 







You're welcome.

The Post Where DFTBA.

My very favorite author in the whole entire world is John Green. I adore his books, they are beautifully written and heart wrenching. Looking For Alaska is my very favorite novel of his and coincidentally where I got the title for my blog.

Miles Cavalry aka Pudge is a adolescent boy who goes looking for his Great Perhaps. Which he thinks he will find at a boarding school in the great state of Alabama; Birmingham to be exact. The first page begins a hundred and thirty-six days before and ends one hundred and twenty-two days after. It's an incredible story of a boy who loves last words and highlights books and meets a girl named Alaska that changes his life and makes him question everything. He discovers what friendship is with a guy named the Colonel in a shitty dorm with a trunk for a table. I love this story. Some of my very favorite quotes are from this book and I will share them with you.

"Just like that from a hundred miles an hour to asleep in a nanosecond. I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch to wrap my arms around her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was a drizzle and she was a hurricane." (88)

This is intoxicating. I absorb it every time I read it. There is no one on earth that doesn't want this said about them. We all want to be forces that bring people to their knees and comes into your life and just drowns you with their presence. And John Green captures the spirit and force of Alaska so well in Pudge's eyes. He also captures the vulnerability of that age of being young and a little awkward or strange and honestly not knowing how to handle people who are in your eyes incredible beings.

"'Don't you know who you love, Pudge? You love the girl who makes you laugh and shows you porn and drinks wine with you. You don't love the crazy, sullen bitch.' And there was something to that, truth be told" (96)

This I can simply relate to. The way you are viewed by a person isn't necessarily how you are. The idea they have of you somehow becomes more important than who you are. I know many people who have views of their crushes or loved ones and when they do something that doesn't fit that mold they have created they get disappointed. We very much put people on pedestals and when you do that with a person who makes mistakes and is very much human they will come crashing to the ground. Infatuation with an idea of a person is captured so well here and all throughout this book. Not just with a romantic interest like the one between Pudge and Alaska but some of the friendships in this story as well.

"Thomas Edison's last words were: "It's very beautiful over there." I don't know where there is, but I believe it's somewhere and I hope it's beautiful."

One of Pudge's fascinations is with last words. I think this is the most striking of all the last word's Green shares with you in this novel and I think Pudge's input is beautifully put. I know we all struggle with the unknown not that of just the after life but of the mysterious over there of the future as well.

Being my favorite novel and all I am highly recommending this to any writer. As well as any other Green novel you can get your hands on. But be warned some of them have a tendency to rip your heart out and run it over full speed. He also has a youtube channel that is very popular and worth checking out if you haven't heard of him already. As John Green would say himself "Don't Forget To Be Awesome".

Blogger's Note

I know I have been absent most of this week and I don't at all want to use this as a journal blog but my week has been a bit of a roller coaster and I apologize. I do not want to get caught in the loop of playing catch up so I am going to do a post for yesterday and a post for today and move on. I am not good with consistency when life throws me curve balls but I will do my very best to better this short coming.

The Post About Spring Break Bitch! (*Spoilers*)

Possibly one of brightest films I have ever seen is Spring Breakers. There was neon everywhere. It was like these girls walked into a Forever 21 and stole everything and then decided to rob a Chicken Shack. Spring breakers released recently and I went to see it with my very good friend. (shout out to Andrew) I had little to no expectations for this movie because It was essentially described to me as Disney girls gone wild. The more people hated it the more I thought I would love it and I did. I am going to give you a list with strategically placed bullets to describe why this is:

• Boobs. There are boobs in the first 2 minutes of this film and I am a fan of the female figure.
• I love seeing straight edge seemingly innocent girls loose their shit.
• James Franco turns himself into a seedy disgusting gang banger and it's amazing to see someone I would climb like a mountain transform themselves into someone I would avoid eye contact with at a gas station.
• James Franco is hilarious. 
• Boobs. This deserves to be on my list twice.
• James Franco does a beautiful ballad rendition of Everytime by Britney Spears.
• The girls danced around him in neon ski masks with guns in matching bathing suits.
• Candy and Brit's homo-erotic relationship filled with love. 
• Vanessa Hudgens makes this giggling sound in the pool. It gave me tingles.
• Those bitches kill everybody while wearing bikinis.

And there is my list. I am not ashamed to love this movie. However, dear people of the internet, I will tell you that this is not your run of the mill average film; It's intended to be an art film. If debauchery and boobs aren't your idea of a good time. Don't see this. Don't watch it thinking it'll be something different and then write a nasty review of it. This movie was beautifully made exactly as it was intended. 

The Post That Gave My Devotional A Gender.

"As I've learned .... no one knows 'enough' about grammar. This causes a lot of peole to feel insecure and alone, as if they're the only ones whose grasp of the language is less than adequate." -- June Casagrande

This is in fact exactly how I felt until I read this passage just now. I previously being an English major, I'm incredibly insecure about how much I do not know about grammar and the rules of english. Fun fact, I couldn't map a sentence to save my life. I almost failed English my third year of high school because of this. So, if you are like me and love to both read and write and you have a very shaky handle on what it is to copy edit apart from what sounds right. You are not alone. I am here, I will be your friend. We can learn this together.

 My devotional says "Once you understand the fifty-two or so tips found every Tuesday in this book, you'll automatically increase your knowledge." I will share those fifty-two tips with you and we can definitely do this together. We shall become more knowledgable. If I had a pen sword it would be thrust into the air right about now. Also, you're Welcome.

I would just like to mention that I do know most writer's like to take the rules of writing and grammar and toss them out the window. I tend to be one of those people. I write in a way that fits how I want my story to unfold and what sounds correct in my head space. However, I would like to know the rules first before I break them. Also, that whole insecure thing actually really does bother me.

So thank you devotional for telling me what no teacher or adult has ever told me in my life. "Hey, it's ok you don't automatically know every single thing about this subject you like." She also says (and because the author is a she therefore my book is a she) "Yeah, sometimes these rules don't make sense so if you don't like the rule or understand the rule don't use it. You don't have to it's your piece of writing." Oh you precious velvety bound thing, you have made me feel ten times better than any writing teacher/professor I have ever had. Ever.

The Post Where I Pose A Question.

What does it mean to be human? What is the point to life and the human existence? These are questions philosophized by many that both fascinate and terrify me. One of those well known philosopher's posed an interesting question that I have always been drawn to: Do humans find that they are better able to understand and experience life through their reading, particularly by reading fiction?

 I know I have been better prepared for life by reading about mishaps and situations some of my favorite characters have found themselves in. Sarah Dessen's books for example, she bulls eyes the heart of issues that I know I have expierenced and some I haven't but are important for me to know are out there in the world. From an abusive boyfriend to a neglective family sitution to the loss of a loved one, Some of those I know and understand while others I don't . Expeirecning those situations with her main characters, girls that are thrown trough the loop of life and how exactly they deal with it has better prepared me for some of the curve balls my life has thrown at me.

It's not always the tearjerkers that teach you a thing or two about life either, sometimes characters find themselves in situations that aren't emotional but aren't any less difficult to maneuver. I've learned to handle these situations with a touch of humor and a laid back demeanor not because of my up bringing but primarily because of the books that I line my shelves with.

Mauriel Bradberry's The Elegance of a Hedgehog, was one of those books that changed me a little when I finished it. It changed my outlook on the world. It taught me that this life is precious and fleeting and filled with too many great movies and great books to let it slip by. Life is too precious and you have to live it for those who don't get the chance. Yes, in the grand scheme of things none of it really matters but that shouldn't stop us from enjoying all of the wonderful things this short life does have to offer. All the people we could get to know.

I believe books have helped me understand people and human nature better. They always used to tell us not to judge a book by it's cover and in the fourth grade we all shook are heads "Of course we don't do that." But as a society I think we do. I have seen some really great people go under the radar because people don't take the time to pay attention or listen. It took me a really long time not to categorize peole and to appreciate their oddities. I mean the real oddities, not the new oddities people adopt to be seen as quirky and cool. I am not talking about a fad. I mean real quirks that I don't full understand but realize and acknowledge their existence. Seeing into people's heads is one of the great aspects that fiction gives you.

So, guys what do you think? Do you feel like reading has at all helped you understand the people that surround you? I am fascinated to read what you have to say.

The Post With Talking Animals

Waking up to a bright sun shining morning on the softest goose feather bed and stepping out of my little cottage to my garden of fresh fruits and vegetables. Greeting my neighbouring woodland creatures with a smile. A separate section of my garden would be just for them, to eat or hide or come to rest. There would be a small trail that would lead you a couple of miles through the woods into a small but fruitful town. The blacksmith would be off the main road to the left and the Inn would be to the right sitting next to the bar for when travellers want a hearty drink before bed. A town where everyone knows everyone and are almost always friendly. It would be much like a family, there would of course be squabbles and fights that broke out from time to time but they'd always get solved with a bashful apology and a shake of the hand. there would be great beautiful horses scattered about in the barns of the people who lived in the land. I of course would be whisked off on a great adventure of some kind saving something or someone precious and dear to me. It would be up to me, I would be the foretold or special one with something inside that made me different and able as opposed to the ordinary I am now. I would eventually return home to my lovely little cottage tucked into the woods and live out my days surrounded by those I held dear.

To be honest with you If I could I would live in a fairy tale land where things are black and white and simple. I would live next door to snow white and things like love would actually conquer all. The wicked witch would be defeated by good nature and all the creatures would be clean and friendly. I would live in a Disney world in a heartbeat. Yes, there may be trying times and evil lurking but a hero wielding a sword would make it all OK. Happily ever after would be an actual occurrence instead of a nice concept. A world where everything makes sense for the most part and life is an adventure.

When everyone answers that question that tends to be put into guessing games or writer's prompts. "If you could live anywhere where would it be?" My mind always drifts off to far off places that only exists in the imaginations of the really great minds. I can't help it, they are so appealing because I can't live there. I could up and move to Paris or some remote island if I really wanted to. It would probably ruin my life completely but I could. I couldn’t live in Narnia or Hyrule or any other fantastical world.

Lady Gaga said it best, "I'm half living my life between reality and fantasy at all times."

The Post With Faith Trust and Pixie Dust.

The passage in my writer's devotional for Saturday's is all about books every writer needs to read. Now, I believe that each writer has and should have their own list of titles that influenced them. So, for this day that is what I'm going to write about; incredible books that influenced me to become a writer. Put them on your list if you haven't already read them because they are worth it.

I'd like to start with the book that changed my life. It introduced me to reading on a whole new level, it was one of the first books I read from start to finish that was an actual book and not a step by step reader. It was J. M. Barrie's Peter Pan (or Peter Pan and Wendy depending on the version). I have six different versions of this book sitting on my shelf and I love every single one.

"The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease for ever to be able to do it" -- J.M. Barrie

I remember the very day I received this book, I was in Mr. Hudson's third grade class. I was the motor mouth. Restless and a bit bored during reading time, I was constantly getting in trouble for talking and distracting the student's around me. Until one day before required reading time started Mr. Hudson called me up to the class. Naturally I thought I had done something wrong and was going to get into major trouble, he only called the really bad kids to his desk. I stood with my chin in the air and walked stiffly to the front of the room, much like a man being escorted to his timely demise. He sits me down and says "Now I know you are a ball of energy and I do enjoy how active you are in group discussions however reading time is quite time. Now, I know you are a good reader why don't you want to read your books like everyone else?" I looked him straight in the face and told him, "Mr. Hudson sir, I've read every single one of those books you got there." I had been reading a lot of Junie B. Jones books at the time and had taken to talking like her. He gave me a look because he was well aware I had adapted this little habbit. He pulled a book from the drawer in his desk and hands it to me. "Try this he says. It's something you've never read before." The book was Peter Pan.

I read it from front to back. And I have loved it ever since. The story is incredible and the writing is classic. It's one of those books that should be standard in anyone's library. It doesn't evoke change or social justice but it does make you think. I fell like creativity is the most important aspect of any writing from fiction to biography to nature writing. If you can't add a creative perspective then what makes it different from "all those other books you got there"? 

On that note I will end with my favorite quote from the entire book:

'"Wendy," Peter Pan continued in a voice that no woman has ever yet been able to resist, "Wendy, on girl is more use than twenty boys." -- Peter Pan

The Post That Was Late.

Person of Interest: George Orwell

So I don't know about many of you but I did in fact have to read Orwell's works in high school and college. And by works I mean his two most famous titles, Animal Farm and 1984. I will admit to you here and now for all the world to see I did not enjoy Animal Farm, however, I loved 1984. I think the concept and idea of that kind of world and the possibilities is fascinating.

More often than not in order to understand an author's writings you have to understand their life itself.

George Orwell was actually born Eric Arthur Blair, in Bengal, India in 1903. He attended the prestigious college of Eton (which is the equivalent of high school if you are American and have never watched skins) and did not continue on to university. Instead he joined the Indian Imperial Police and went on to fight in the Spanish Civil War until he took a bullet to his neck ending his soldiering career. During World War 2 he worked as a corespondent and editor for the BBC, the Observer, and the Tribune. Beginning his writing career. All through out his life career Orwell, wrote more than 350 articles, 17 well received poems, scripts, a play and 29 collections of short stories. In addition to his two most popular novels Orwell wrote four other novels. Of course he didn't get to bask in the fame of his two most popular novels long. A year after 1984 was published he died of tuberculosis.

This man known for very little, has created so much and experienced so much. My favorite essay written by Orwell is one I relate to. Yes relate to, not understand or enjoy but I legitimately relate to an article written 60 odd years ago in a time period I can not begin to understand what was like. I'm a twenty-two year old female who has never left home. I haven't experienced a tenth of what this man has and the fact I can read one of his essays and understand it completely. This is one of the most powerful aspects of writing.

You can find that article here.

So I am going to end today's short post with a fun fact: Eric Arthur Blair chose the name George for the patron saint of England and the last name Orwell from the River Orwell in Suffolk, one of his most beloved sites. He chose a pen name that stressed his affection for the English tradition and countryside.

The Post Where I Get A Little Creative

Editing is troublesome. Especially for me because I can read over something over, feel in my gut that it's not right and have no idea what to do or how to fix it. Today being Thursday and all I will be working on editing skills. So what I intend to do is have a general prompt and write a short story about previously mentioned prompt. I'm hoping as more people read this they will become intrigued and want to participate a little, because I asked from prompts on my other social media and didn't get any responses so I went here and generated one. Also, those of you delightful sweet faced angels who read my posts are more than welcome to leave prompts or ideas in the comment section for Thursdays.

This Thursday’s idea is that I am going to write through this story completely unedited (which thank goodness because I am super tired) and give it 24 hours without looking at it come back and edit it into something actually readable. "I hope," she gulps.

The prompt: The story takes place in the early morning. The story must have a pile of bones appear in the middle. A character becomes joyous during the story.
 
I heard it. I know I did. Gathering my skirts about me I leap from my straw bed and head out into the early morning light. That sound. Something familiar. I peered into the barn but all the animals appeared to be asleep soundly, It wasn't quite time for the rooster's crow to awaken the valley. How could they not have heard it? So loud. There. I rushed down the hill behind my family farm and ran far across the wide spread out land until I reached the edge of the forest. We weren't supposed to enter but, all fathers told their daughters that for fear of being eaten by wolves. I was not afraid. I'd seen much in my short life and the thought of a wolf was not what haunted my nightmares. It's so dark. I step timidly into the line of trees, shaking a bit. No, definitely not afraid of wolves but that wasn't all that haunted these forests, everyone in the village whispered about the things that dwelled amongst the trees. Dark and evil things. I made my way deeper in following the small path my sisters and I had found as small children. I hadn't been near here in years but I knew it well. A loud crack paralyzes me in my place. Heart racing, I look around frantically. Every inch of me is screaming to turn and run but I stay still fearing any sort of movement. I gather my wits and work on taking small deep breaths, returning my heart rate to normal. Bending down to peer at what I had stepped on I realize how much lighter it had gotten. Nothing but a mere pile of rabbit bones. For a moment I laugh at my idiocy. That soon fades and the isolation wraps me up again. Why am I even out here? What brought me to this place? Did I even... my thoughts are interrupted by a low whistle. Not like that of any man-made object, I can almost make out a tune. For some reason this gives me all I need to continue on. I can't explain it but I have this strange feeling someone is calling for me. I walk and I walk, stepping over overturned logs and ducking under low branches. I'm so tired. The sun is high overhead, I am thankful for the protection of the overhanging leaves keeping the forest cool. I was so lost in my own thoughts I don't even realize I've walked into a small clearing, the sun gets hot and it pulls me out of my reverie. I look about my surroundings, where am I? Filled with flowers and tall grass, the clearing gives me a strange feeling of familiarity. Looking around I see a small hut tucked under a big oak tree in the corner of the clearing where the woods once again begin. The familiarity grows, I run towards the door knowing this is why I was supposed to come. I get to the door suddenly shy, the hem of my night dress is covered in dirt and my hair is a tangle of knots. Another soothing whisper encircles me and my confidence is once restored, not to mention the delicious smells wafting out the window. When was the last time I ate? I push the door and it gives with ease, I step inside, The blinding sun has made the dim room difficult to see. I begin to make out the shapes of a fire place and a long wooden table. There seems to be someone standing by the fire doing something but I still can't quite see. I begin to speak,"I'm so sorry to intrude, I got a lost... hello..." was the old woman deaf? She hasn't moved a muscle. I step into the room more and my eyes adjust, making out a long sheath of shiny black hair. The woman turns to look at me, no. No! It can't be she is dead. Her eyes a bright green gleem and her hair whishes past her shoulders as she finally faces me. Joy seeping from her every pore as all hope drains out of me and is replaced by utter misery. "Hello, Sera," her devishly sweet tone cuts me like a knife, "so glad to see you again. I haven't seen you since your poor mother's death. I mean your birth." Mother Crone



 24 hours later... (give or take) This is the part where I do an actual read through and edit what I did before.


I heard it. I know I did. Gathering my skirts about me I leap from my straw bed and head out into the early morning light. That sound. Something familiar. I peered into the barn but all the animals appeared to be sleeping soundly. It wasn't quite time for the rooster's crow to awaken the valley. How could they not have heard it? So loud..... there! I rushed down the hill behind my family farm and ran far across the wide spread out land until I reached the edge of the forest. We weren't supposed to enter but, all fathers told their daughters that for fear of their precious children being eaten by wolves. I was not afraid. I'd seen much in my short life and the thought of a wolf was not what haunted my nightmares. It's so dark. I step timidly into the line of trees, shaking a bit. No, definitely not afraid of wolves but that wasn't all that haunted these forests. Everyone in the village whispered about the things that dwelled amongst the trees. Dark and evil things. I made my way deeper in following the small path my sisters and I had found as small children. I hadn't been near here in years but I knew it well. A loud crack paralyzes me in my place. Heart racing, I look around frantically. Every inch of me is screaming to turn and run but I stay still fearing any sort of movement. I gather my wits and work on taking small deep breaths, returning my heart rate to normal. Bending down to peer at what I had stepped I could actually see the ground and it' surroundings. It had gotten much lighter as the morning continued to dawn. Nothing but a mere pile of rabbit bones. For a moment I laugh at my idiocy. That soon fades and the isolation wraps me up again. Why am I even out here? What brought me to this place? Did I even... my thoughts are interrupted by a low whistle. Not like that of any man-made object, I can almost make out a tune. It's so familiar, as if I've heard it before long ago, but I can't quite grasp the memory. For some reason this gives me all I need to continue on. I can't explain it but I have this strange feeling someone is calling for me. I walk and I walk, stepping over overturned logs and ducking under low branches. I'm so tired. The sun is high overhead, I am thankful for the protection of the overhanging leaves keeping the forest cool. I was so lost in my own thoughts I don't realize I've walked into a small clearing. The sun beats hot on the back of my neck and sweat starts to drip down my back. I'm wearing not but a nightgown, even that seems too much in this overbearing heat.I reach around to the back of my neck and wipe the prespiration away, it's enough to pull me out of my reverie. I look about my surroundings, where am I? Filled with flowers and tall grass, the clearing gives me a strange feeling of comfort. A small hut tucked under a big oak tree in the corner of the clearing where the woods catches my attention. I know this place. I run towards the door knowing this is why I was supposed to come. I get to the door suddenly shy, the hem of my night dress is covered in dirt and my hair is a tangle of knots. Another soothing whisper encircles me and my confidence is once again restored, not to mention the delicious smells wafting out the window. I hadn't noticed the gnawing ache in my stomach before, when was the last time I ate? I push the door and it gives with ease. Stepping inside, the blinding sun has made the dim room difficult to see. I begin to make out the shapes of a fire place and a long wooden table. The shape of a person is hunching over the fire doing something but I still can't quite see. I begin to speak,"I'm so sorry to intrude, I got a little lost... hello..." was this person deaf? Not a muscle has moved hasn't. I step into the room more and my eyes adjust, making out a long sheath of shiny black hair. A woman stands and turns to look at me, no. No! It can't be she is dead. Her eyes a bright green gleem and her hair whooshes past her shoulders as she finally faces me. Joy seeping from her every pore as all hope drains out of me and is replaced by utter misery. "Hello, Sera," her devishly sweet tone cuts me like a knife, "so glad to see you again. I haven't seen you since your poor mother's death. I mean your birth." Mother Crone

The Post That Turned Into A Love Letter

If you don't know what it is like to  transfer to a new school in the middle of a year you are lucky. I did that often and more often than not it was the same every time. Being a kid who moved around a lot you have your first day of school down to a science. Mine was be observant, decide where you wanted to fit in (if you wanted to fit in at all) and who you wanted to fit in with. Until the move that changed my life.

Picture it, a large lunchroom full of well dressed impossibly attractive children, well mostly because let's face it there are mediocre looking people everywhere, from the south's upper middle class. As I walk into the lunch room, in my bargain jeans and no name t-shirt that my mom probably got at K-mart, I take the seat at the table my lunch attendant tells me is where my homeroom sits. I'm sitting silently as a few other students grab seats and start talking with their friends. I'm minding my own business trying to go unnoticed in order to avoid the dull and monotonous first day conversations. "What's your name? Where did you move from?" Jesus, fourteen year olds are so nosey. Before one of them even begins with the interrogation I hear someone a few seats down shout at me, "Hey! You're new. You are going to be my friend. Come sit next to me." At first I respond with a "no I'm good thanks." And this nameless, faceless, genderless person says to me "Alright cool." I continue not eating the lunch my mom didn't pack for me and stare around at all the people. Not a single one of the kids in my old school wore sixty dollar jeans or looked like they could be in a commercial. These kids kind of did, and I was freaking out about it. I get snapped out of my reverie by the same voice shouting at me "you know I really think you should come sit next to me". I rolled my eyeballs to the ceiling which was customary of me at the time being a sassy independent woman and all, slowly got up from my seat and trudged over to this mystery person. Enter Dawn. Probably the best and most life changing decision of my life was to get up and move about four seats to my right and sit next to the girl in the USC hoodie.

Ever since we have been very best friends. In fact if I were a boy I would flat out marry her and we would make each other equally miserable and blissfully happy. I mean she is a very attractive lady, naturally light brown hair with huge blue eyes and awesome freckles. I should say that her current hair color is a light auburn which I feel suits her nicely as well. She is on the short side and will Gibbs smack you (for those NCIS fans out there) if you mention it. She is a May baby, but she should probably have been born in the fall or winter  because she is as cool and collected as they come. She is simply put the coolest person I have ever met in the entirety of my short lived life; I seriously doubt that is going to change. Her interest in cool music, movies, video games, books, all the things I was secretly interested in but too worried about showing the outside world was what really drew me to her. How much she enjoyed the things she liked and did not give a damn what anyone else thought. I have very specific memories during those first few years of our friendship; the two of us hanging out listening to techno, editing our myspace pages, using html code because we were superior to the peons that downloaded their layouts, and constantly thinking that she was going to realize what a total dud I was. I just knew she would find someone more on her level to hang out with. She didn't. Not like people didn't try really hard to replace me as her bestie, in fact they still do.

Now she is a sound design major at a prestigious art college. Doing incredible things and learning all about sound and stuff. Ok, honestly I am not entirely sure what it is she does there. There are knobs and levels and stuff but I'm really not supposed to touch any of it. She scolds me if I try. However, I do know that she is dedicated to learning everything there is to know about sound design. That is one aspect of Dawn that I also really admire. Once she hones in on something and decides she wants to invite it into her realm of knowledge there isn't an aspect of that subject that escapes. Working on movies and short animations are just a few of the types of projects I know she works on. In fact she recently went to California for some really fancy cool sound awards. She was dressed all fancy and looked awesome, like Jennifer Lawrence, in the pictures I liked on facebook. I'm stoked to see what her career ends up becoming because that girl is going to do great things. I know, I'm her best friend, and I am so proud of her for all she has already accomplished.

This was supposed to be a short biography about my best friend, but it has turned into a strangely awesome love letter. I am not ashamed. My ode to you Dawn, may you forever grace my life with your presence, because frankly I would not survive without you.

The Post Where I Come Up With An Idea.

"The indispensable first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: decide what you want." -- Ben Stein

As a reminder I will tell you again that Tuesdays are going to be all about motivation. The reason behind why we strive to reach seemingly impossible goals. You can see what you want your endgame to be but it's really difficult to get there. This is a huge problem for me in my writing, I know exactly what I want the end to look like but getting there seems to trip me up more often than not.

As an embarrassing example, In the seventh grade I kept a composition notebook convinced I was going to write a novel. I wrote about a princess who had special powers and was going on this journey. Standard stuff for a fourteen year old nerd. Well, I had the whole plot mapped out in my head. I was working on my character and I just got stuck. I ended up having her do some weird floating magic stuff that came out of nowhere and didn't make a bit of sense. I just straight up could not figure out how to get her from where she was to where I wanted her to go. I wanted it to be important and not just filler. I couldn't figure out what I wanted. It also didn't help that my "boyfriend" at the time read it and told me I needed to stop doing crack. Yeah real winner that one. Anyway, I have this huge problem with having a great idea and not being able to put it to paper like I want.

According to my handy dandy devotional I need to create some goals for myself. Some motivation if you will. But first I must ask myself what it is I want for my writing. I have come to discover that I do want to write not only for myself but for others as well. Working in my bookstore I have recognized a bit of a void in-between the adult and teen demographic. Something for the twenty something's, like myself, who aren't ready to commit to anything but are probably a bit to old for the what to do about your'e crush scene and how to deal with entering the big scary world of college. I honestly would love to write for them, for us. So that is a goal I suppose I have just come up with. Look at that guys. IDEAS.

Goal: To be the voice of the twenty something's who are actively in said scary world and have absolutely no idea what they are doing. How to deal with relationships and paying bills and navigating a world of actual adults.

My intentions: I don't really want to bestow advice unto the masses, I mean I am in no place to be telling people how to live their lives. I'm still figuring life out for myself. However, sharing my experiences and the thoughts and wisdom of those who are or have navigated this twenty-something blur is the best way I can think to do it.

How to reach my goal: I honestly have no idea. I'm hoping that this project will help me in figuring that out. I hope that by the end of this year I will have the confidence to put this goal/project thing into action. I suppose I will just take it one day at a time.

The Begining. AKA The Inital Explanation/Boring Post.

Let me kick start this little shin dig by introducing myself. Hi world, I'm Jaime. I came up with this crazy idea while at work in a book store. Yes, I am a bookworm. And I am sure you will come to know that very well, among other things if this goes the way I foresee it going. But then again things such as this have a tendency to take on a life of their own. Anyway, my idea, I am going to use a writer's devotional I found while browsing on my break to help me become more inspired and hopefully a better writer. So for an entire 365 days I am going to write to you people, of the interwebs. based mostly on the passages each day brings me. Sometimes I may have other writings creep in, with or around these pre-designed passages but I suppose we shall see how that progresses with time.

I should probably give a little back story as to how I decided to start this project, well, I am a writer who is bad at writing. It's my dirty little secret. I moved around so much in elementary school I never really got a good hold on grammar or syntax and inspiration hits me at the worst moments when there is neither a pen nor paper within a 10 mile radius. I also have a very difficult time making what is in my head translate well on paper. It just gets lost somewhere. I am hoping that by doing these exercises and sticking with it my writing skills improve and one day I will look back on this piece of writing with grotesque horror and pride at how far I have come. You always look back and think your piece of writing is awful but I'm really hoping I will see major improvement as well.

I should also probably mention, since I am in fact not trying to steal any credit from the writer of said devotional. That you may in fact purchase this yourself it is called "The Writer's Devotional 364 Inspirational Exercises, Ideas, Tips, and Motivations on Writing" by Amy Peters. I will also tell you a little about what is to come each day.

Mondays: Is Writer's on Writing
Tuesday: Motivation
Wednesday: Writing Class
Thursdays: Editing
Fridays: Biography
Saturdays: Books Writers Should Read
Sundays: Writing Prompts

Now we begin.

This passage is essentially about why writer's write and the quote at the top of the page says it best "the role of the writer is not to say what we can all say but what we are unable to say --Anais Nin"

It makes me wonder, why do I write? Why do I want to write. Well the second part of that is easy I want to write because I love to read and I want to do what all of the wonderful writers I read do. I want to create worlds I fall in love with and characters that I relate to. The second part is a little more difficult. I write because I have trouble communicating in other mediums. I can't sing songs about how I feel much less tell a person. I've always been drawn to writing and words because I read about a character who is feeling what I feel and they express that emotion in a way I can't. There have been times where I will literally stop and point out a passage and shout "That! That is exactly how I feel" to an empty room. That reaction is powerful and wonderful and I want to do that for someone else. It is why we as a whole write, to give a voice to those who can't.

So, hopefully in the future my actual responses will be a tad longer, but it is in fact very late and I am very tired and I also do still have to figure out this website I have decided to put this on. So I hope those that do read this aren't entirely bored and stick around for this journey I am about to commit to. It may get a little funny, it may also get a little sentimental. Just know it will always be honest.