What is the world beyond the stars?

What a beautiful phrase! Now be amazed, my friends. A seven year old wrote that. A seven year old. Just today. "What is the world beyond the stars". My baby brother. By little Brother1. He had Dear Sis write it up for him, since he still struggles with putting it down himself (he's an excellent reader, though--has abeen since he was four).

Here's the lyric. I wanna share this with you because I am so incredibly impressed.

What is the world beyond the stars?
Why are you sad?
There must be
Some way to see
Why those tears come down

I know you'll be the man
Go through the ways the darkness
Come back with not even a scar
You'll that you are the man
How can you be sad?

Oh dear how are you?
Because I don't know how are you?
Oh dear how are you?
Because I don't know how are you?

(Next Verse)

There's a way through every sadness
I have seen it true
You can see the land through the winter
The summer
Even spring

You know there's no way to be sad
Through this summer day
Everything's good
Nothing's bad
Just fight the sadness

Oh dear how are you?
Because I don't know how are you?
Oh dear how are you?
Because I don't know how are you?

What kind of seven year old writes like that? He can't carry a tune for the life of him, bless his heart. But I think my brother's a poet.

Holidays, Family, and MY AWESOME LIFE

My life rocks, I'm the luckiest girl the world, I could hardly be happier, I love my family so much, blah blah blah, you've heard it a thousand times but I can't stop thinking it, and I won't stop saying it. If I'm going to be a broken record, best to be stuck on these good points, right? (totally leeched that off my father, by the way. I like steeling quotes from my genius family :D)

So today we all went off together on a little walk through of cute itty bitty set ups of fairy tales with Christmas themes, and teddy bears, and pretty lights, and a place to donate cans for people who need food, and Santa Claus at the end. Tons of fun, really. The boys, my dearest little brothers, were absolute DOLLS (which was a pleasant surprise, since they’ve been rather tantrum-prone of late). I remember at the very end, Mrs. Claus came up to Brother2 (who had latched on to Daddy and was hiding in his shoulder, not daring to look up).

"I've got a Candy cane!" she said.

Brother2 snatched that candy in a blur, but he didn’t look up. He must have a sixth candy sense ;-)

Brother1 actually sat on Santa's lap, which surprised us all. He's not really that social when it comes to people he doesn't know very well.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Olde Saint Nick sayeth.

"I already got stuff," Brother1 replied cheerfully.

About then my heart melted. He's so happy, so complete - he doesn't have a single wish for Christmas. How wonderful is that? To know that your little brother is that happy. It just made my day.

I love the holiday spirit, I love the crisp winter air, I love caroling like there's no tomorrow with Dear Sister. I love dressing in thick cozy shirts and soft fluffy sweats. More than anything I love the people I'm with - how I scored such a fantastic family, I'll never know. Sheer dumb luck. And awesome genes, too, I guess. My parents picked well!

It's just amazing, because I admire each and every one of them. They're beautiful, in every way possible, and brilliant. They make my life so very wonderful and I'm so, so, so happy to be blessed with them.

I feel the need to express that in writing every so often. I'm not sure why, but... well, it's important to me. I want them to know how much they've shaped me. How much I love them. I want the world to know how happy I am, how blessed. I am so grateful, to everything there is to be grateful to.

I wish you all the best this holiday season, I'll send some love and some happy thoughts, too *blows a kiss* Expect to hear more from me! I've got a new story idea and will be ranting on it shortly, so be excited or run away screaming. You're pick.

Much love, Merry Christmas!

Happy Halloween!

EDIT: GAH! Due to blogger craziness, the pictures and the text are totally out of sink. Each bit of text has a description, however, so you should be fine if you read and look carefully. Read on!
----

Yippy! It’s the Day of the Dead, All Hallow’s Eve, that special day where people buy candy just to give it away. It’s like Christmas, only sweets instead of presents, and people give to strangers rather than those they know just to let kids have a good time. I think it’s a touching holiday, and a real fun one too, with all those fabulous costumes. I love picking them out and putting them together; it’s such a blast.

Since this year I won't be doing much for this special day, I thought I should post some dress-up memorabilia. I plan to be a Psycho-Ologist - or a Sinister Psychologist, or Lyla Alden, if you remember me ranting on her - this year, but you probably won't see pics until tomorrow. To tie you over, and for my own nostalgia's sake, here's every other year I ever dressed up:



Halloween, 1999, Dear Sister and I. I think we're supposed to be Barney and a Bumble bee, but who knows? The masks kind of throw me off.




Halloween 2003, Dear Sister as Alice in Wonderland and myself Super Man! Yippy!

A vampress and a mummy. Dear Sister's costume rocked this year, being 2004.

I went as a vampire for the second and last time, Dear Sister as a ghost. Isn't the blood a brilliant touch? And while I love sissy's hood, it's her killer expression that makes me want to drop dead. This is 2005.

Brother1's first time dressing up! At a year old, I believe, this is him as Super Baby. Dear Sister and I had AWESOME costumes this time around (we scared poor little kids on accident, they were so cool); me as a Ghost Bride, and she as a vampire in 2006. We switched our costumes from the last year, if you note.

Though I looked great as Medusa, the monster from Greek Mythology, getting the snakes out of my hair was a brutal, brutal memory I won't ever forget. But isn't Dear Sister just the cutest li'l witch you ever did see? She comes with a bumble bee, too!

You long-time readers should remember this one! My first Halloween on blogger, 2008, when I went as a Harpy (not a blackbird), again from Greek Mythology. Everyone else had chicken pox at the time (though I was soon to follow), so I was the only one who dressed up this time around.

This year ROCKED. Brother1 as Indiana Jones, myself as Anna Bolena, or Anne Boleyn, or Nan Bullen, Queen of England and my personal hero, Daddy as a Man in Black, Mommy as Donna Noble from Doctor Who, and Dear Sister as a Genie. Awesome, eh?

Myself, as Cinderella, last Halloween at 2009. This costume came out beautifully, I think, and that dress is one of my favorites.

That's it, I guess. Thanks for stopping by and reading - happy, happy, Halloween!

Yesterday

Late Night rocks. I mean really rocks. It'd be nice if all the 'bars' were open longer, but hey. It still totally rocks. If I were to sum up yesterday in a couple words, I guess I'd have to say "I played Late Night". That's just about it, heheh - I usually obsess over sims after getting a new EP, at least for a while. But let me think; I know I did a bit more than that.

I did try a magic trick with Brother1. Brother2 wandered around in a Darth Vader costume, and chased after the bigger boy with a pillow. Dear sister and I baked muffins. I practiced piano. We all watched that really cute TV show Raising Hope (which is just adorable, I'll have to post about it sometime). I wanted to get some typing and/or drawing done yesterday, be eh. It didn't happen. I role-played for a wee bit at the end of the day; that was fantastically fun, and I got some practice writing while I was at it. Beyond that I guess I just played with my newest Sims 3 expansion pack, random bits of chatter, observation, and food preparation not included.

It's Magic!

Recently li'l Brother1 has been showing a great interest in the big bin of magic tricks that has been hiding under my bed for the past... three years? Well, something like that. See, eons ago I was part of the 'Magician's Ring!' and performed magic on a regular basis. I practice like mad and knew all the tricks in the books (no, really, I read every single one that I had - in a certain book).

Now, a while later, I still have the mindset to figure those things out nowadays. I love going to a magic show and looked closely, trying to figure out how to do the trick. I'm none to bad at that nowadays.

Anyhow Brother1 stumbled upon my sockpile of quite a few tricks. Maybe I should start relearning them, so I could share with the guy. He's such a sweetheart, and her really does try, but he ends up giving the trick away every single time XD

Gosh, I love that boy.

The Sims 3: Late Night

It’s out! Sims 3 Late Night is out! Yaaaaay! Yaaaaay! Yaaaaay!

I’m really really really really really really really excited about this. I’ve been waiting so long. And for once, I’m going to buy it, which Brother1 is really excited about since that means he can use it more quickly and easily. See, Dear Sister keeps her Sims expansion packs under her loft bed, which is a no-go zone for anyone, and she gets upset if you do trespass on her territory. Which I understand, I guess; it’s her space. But I sure hate it when the only way we can get at sims is if she goes and brings it out for us on her own time.

I’m honestly jittery about this. More body sliders! More traits! Night clubs! More cars! More clothing!

Yippy!

I’ll come back and post a more coherent, more intelligent, more proper post tomorrow. XD

On my stories

I've started writing Kings of Darkness, yaaaaaaaaaaaay!

Yip, you heard right. Yesternight I poured out over 3000 words, which was wonderful. For probably the first time in my life I knew exactly what I was doing and where I was going to go. I am so, so happy for that, and I've gone pretty far too. I decided to try using Phoenix Shifter as the main character; I might change my mind later, but why not give it a go? She'll be Emily in this one (partly from the advice of Dear Sister), though, because it makes her a little more ordinary and I want her to be someone you can really connect with - someone whose eyes you can clearly see the land of Glorsifil through.

The trouble is that K.o.D. is only one of many stories I'm in the middle of writing. To put matters in perspective, here are just a few of the others:

An as of yet unnamed story about a man gone mad, his freaky psychologist, and his desperate attempts to go home and be with his family. The story follows Theodore and the other wards and workers in a mental hospital, exploring the idea of insanity and unraveling the mystery behind his mental illness and his new companions.

Dreams of Eden, a story about six miserable children who start dreaming of one another in a special, perfect place. Soon they learn that there is more to these dreams than meets the eye and set off on a long journey to find one other in their hidden paradise.

Twisted, a retelling of Snow White. Beatrice von Iden is a princess in her own right, and as her beloved step-mother taught her she has both a right and duty to all the privileges and obligations therein. When one day in the Queen's childhood castle, Beatrice - or Snow White, as she is fondly nicknamed - stumbles across the mystic Mirrors from her step mother's Fairies' Tales, her perfect world is slowly ripped apart as the years continue, driving her and the Queen further and further apart and throwing her into the hands of her worst nightmare and ancient enemies, the dwarves.

And those are just the most prominent at the moment. I'm still planning on writing a lot more stories in the world of Arrivia (the setting where my self-published sci-fi Project 6-1-2 takes place), for one thing, or a mystery about this guy and this girl trying to unravel their pasts, or another post-apocalyptic story. As you can see, I'm kind of overloaded. But that's okay, I guess, because yesterday I realized something I'd forgotten for a long, long while: I really, really do love to write. I hope one of these days I can make a career out of it, but I know now that I’ll be typing for the rest of my life.

My Favorite Original Characters

You wouldn't believe how many original characters I have floating around, and once I discovered role playing – well, let’s just say that doubled. I love them all with a tender passion like I'd love my own children – even my villains – , but I'm a horrible parent and apparently have favorites:

Lyla Alden, previously known as the Sinister Psychologist. An ex rich girl, she had virtually no social interaction as a little girl– her parents being fairly neglectful since they were really too busy for a child in the first place. She grew up around a few expensive tutors learning French, Math, History, and Science. Lyla passed the time watching people; watching her parents' parties, watching the household servants interact, watching how people gossiped, praised, manipulated, loved, fought, and cried. Unfortunately, as she hadn't actually done any of these things herself, when she finally made what Lyla refers to as her 'debutante appearance' (a twelve year old decked up in mother's makeup waltzing in stiletto heels on her parents' party uninvited) she came out stilted and awkward, and to this day hasn't been able to fix that. Sure, she practiced in front of the mirror for hours saying please and thank you, and if you ever meet a person that can smile wider than Lyla I'll give you a million dollars*, but she gives the impression of a moving Barbie doll dripping with sadism. She's so completely over-the-top polite and statically happy that she achieves exactly the opposite affect for which she was hoping. (As I once wrote in reference to Miss Alden: Her voice was cream floating in coffee, crystals of sugar dancing to the bottom. Her voice slid into your ears and gripped at your mind, twisting you from the inside out.) The affect she does achieve, however, is probably much more suiting. Lyla isn't a 'nice girl'. The human mind fascinates her; she loves the way it works and - even more - loves watching it crumble. But if you need a counselor and don't mind mental trauma along the way to sanity, she's your best bet. Sinister she may be, but she's also one of the best psychologists out there.

Theodore Rosefelt (yes, he was named in mock reference and honest tribute to a famous former president), or Farmer Ted, or the guy rolling his eyes in the corner before getting the job done and acerbically working out whatever argument he was rolling his eyes at. Teddy is a born and bred farmer (an acrobat, too!) and proud of this, but he doesn't act like stereotype would suggest. He isn't jolly or simple or even friendly. In fact he's sardonic, crabby, and a real pain in the neck. He's one of the snappiest average Joe's out there, and frankly kind of scary when you irk him. Despite all this, Theodore is loyal, loving, awfully clever, HORRIBLY witty, and a good person if you cut his chest open and take a good look at the very center of his heart. He had a tendency to feel fatherly towards people and then beat himself up about it, and is a 'family man' despite himself. This really surprised him since it seemed so inconsistent with what he knew about himself so before. But that's Teddy in a word: inconsistent. He's crabby and sardonic, but clipped and polite. He's quiet and observant, but rash and wild. He can lash out madly like a whip and later just sit quietly making a comment or two when he thinks it’s really necessary. Ted is very clever and pretty subtle in his emotions, but when he does feel he becomes completely caught up in the anger or joy and becomes absolutely, positively irrational. He's somewhat bipolar, terrified of death (though he hardly ever brings it up; it's kind of a quiet fear), and a little bit crazy. Theodore would let the world go to flames to keep himself and those he loves safe, but he loves more strongly and completely than could ever be put to words.

Emily Ana “Phoenix” Shifter, the spunky sweet firegirl. Named for her mother, Emily prefers to go by the stage name she uses when she performs with fire. It's one of her favorite things to do – grab a few sticks, rub 'em together with a match or two and dance around flaring with them. She does so for tips and performs at birthdays and parties when she can as she has absolutely no idea what she wants to do with her life – beyond opening a bakery, but the idea of settling down in one place like that rather frightens her, no matter how perfect her Shifterian Chocolate Chip Cookies may be. Phoenix is sharp as a tack, perky, bouncy, witty, open and buoyant. She is everything light and happy, completely optimistic in nature and a great sufferer of wanderlust with a longing for adventure. She's a terribly oblivious romantic at heart, and has a tendency to see the best in everything – sometimes over idealizing what something is to the point of heart break when she learns what is wasn't. Despite that setback, she sees the good in everyone and plays at it, drawing it out and brightening the world (both metaphorically and literally) wherever she goes. Phoenix has a temper she works really hard to keep a handle on, but if someone really pushes her buttons she'll go kind of crazy (word of advice: don't call her cute, don't call her 'Fifi', and don't you dare hurt someone she cares about). She's good at martial arts, knows how to hold a sword and can use it adequately (her father makes replicas of old-time weaponry and she couldn't resist goofing around with them a little. She can actually make sloppy swords if she words hard at it – all the heat and fire appeals to her – and is real good at making simple repairs), plays the flute, and is a bit of an acrobat. On the other side of things, she is one of the worst singings to ever curse the poor helpless Earth, thick crowds make her panic (especially indoors) and she hates being wet or cold. Overall Phoenix is just a kind hearted girl who wants to have a good time and really needs to find herself fast before she grows up and is still stuck performing on the streets. She's actually Theodore's granddaughter in my head - and she has a tendency to act snarky like him when annoyed – , but I doubt it'll ever come up in whatever story she features.

Fredric, or Freddy, or Fred, or the cheerful bloke Dear Sister gets a kick out of. The son of a sailor who is often off on his trips, he cherishes every moment he has with his family together. A bit of a sailor himself on occasion, Fredric loves nothing like the sea - endless and wild and lovely. He's jovial and light, always with a joke (though not always a particularly good one, he certainly seems to find them funny) and a bright smile on hand. Fred locks grief - when he ever feels it, which is rare - underneath his cheer, preferring to pretend everything is exactly the same as it was before and act accordingly. He's loyal and determined, though so easy going it's easy to sway him in his opinions - unless, of course, you're talking about someone he cares for, in which case Fredric is stuck as a boot in mud and no amount of pulling will make him budge. Near impossible to irritate but rather childish when he is such. Fred can get quite cold on occasion, particularly if he feels like someone is prodding underneath the happy-go-lucky exterior which is honestly his heart ninety percent of the time. Not particularly clever or particularly slow – he honestly doesn’t think about thinking most of the time –, he’s an excellent horseback rider and just a pleasant person to be around.

Phew! That took forever, heheh. But hey, I had fun writing it. Anyhow, these are some all-time favorites out of my characters. I hope you enjoyed reading about them as much as I enjoy writing about them.

Kings of Darkness Update

I worked on that book for almost three years, if you include the hours I poured into editing. The trouble was I honestly didn't know where I was going when I started – well, I knew how it was supposed to end and basic plot of the series, but what was the first book supposed to accomplish? What kind of missions would a band of Rebels go off on? I don't know.

What ended up happening were some cheesy, pointless, non-plot furthering scenes (including nympths, a 'Sword of Teer' that I made up COMPLETELY out of the blue, and time travel. No, I'm serious), pointless expeditions, and way too many characters (including a bratty sorceress, NYMPHS, and magical creatures). And then, a long, long while later I started rereading my story. Let's just say I was under impressed. My writing has, apparently, grown immensely since then and I have no intentions of associating my name with a sub-quality book - or rather, a book with which I know beyond doubt that I could do much, much better.

Then we have May Petersen, the main character. If you asked me about her, I would say: "She's an average multitalented girl average at everything she does besides solving mysteries (which she excels at) who gets sucked up into this magical land and has to help save the kingdom of Glorsifil from a tyrant King Ronan who doesn't seem quite - "

"No, no, Galaxy, I want to hear about what kind of person this 'May' is. What's she like?"

"Oh, oh! Well, she's got shoulder length auburn hair, emerald eyes, a square chin - " (I wrote this book before I cut my hair, I swear. Besides, my hair's too dusty to be auburn and my eyes to gray to be emerald. And my chin isn't square)

"No, Galaxy, you're doing it again. Tell me about her personality. Her traits."

Then there would be silence. I'd probably blink a couple times. If you asked me about any of my other original characters I could talk for hours about their personality alone.

"Um, well, she's resilient... nice... quick on her feet... and petrified of horses for the first five chapters while remaining jittery around them throughout the entire thing?"

As you can see, I have quite a few problems. The only thing I could think to do would be to totally rehaul everything - yes, everything - and write Kings of Darkness from scratch. Originally it was going to be four books all together: The Reining Night, A Glimmer of Light, Eclipse, and Dusk or Dawn, but now I'm noticing how I was trying to stretch out the first one in my mad attempts, and maybe if I just collapsed them all together it would make for a better, more action filled, less fluffy story.

I'm still figuring out how I'm going to execute all this, how I'm going to work it out, but I have to try. Because Fredric is in that book (and he's one of my favorites out of all the characters I've ever written), because I poured far too much of my heart and soul into that story to give up now, and because Mommy said abandoning K.o.D. was a "horrible, evil" thing, though she did express how much she doesn't like the fantasy genre.

And I guess that's all there is to it, but I promised an explanation, so there you have one. To do list: Manufacture a new main character, plot out what must be accomplished, feel out how many books it'll take (I'm hoping for only one, maybe two), and start once more. Mwahahahaahahaha.

In the meanwhile, I've got a newly published, very interesting, exciting sci-fi book called Project 6-1-2 with lots of awesome characters that you're absolutely welcome to read, buy, and review at this link here:

http://www.amazon.com/Project-6-1-2-Zoe-M-Alley/dp/1453617884/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1287770164&sr=8-1

Lemons

I was just remembering way back when every now and then when someone gave us a glass of water with a lemon in it Daddy would feed it to Wee Baby Brother1. I remember how his face just CRINKLED up and went all silly. It was so sweet. And then he'd ask for more. No, I'm not kidding - more.

Babies are brilliant. And then they grow up. And they get even more so! I love my boys, and I love my sis. I'm sure grateful to have'em, and all the beautiful (or just plan silly XD) memories the four of us share.

The Scariest Weapons Ever

Here’s a list of some of the scariest things EVER:


A bastard blob - the melted remains of a bastard sword. Old D&D pals for the game with Miranda, Levindar, Annabelle, and Metro will understand.

Dear Sister's glare - anyone who's felt it will understand.

A cumin spiced stake - those things can do DAMAGE when flying through the air. Just ask Zombie Julian from the Orderly Chaos role play game.

SPOONS - no, I'm not kidding.

Phoenix's Fire - especially after you've dared to TOUCH HER HAIR.

Teeth - I haven't dealt with vampires much. But from what I HAVE, my advice to you is to avoid the teeth. At all costs.

Mechanical pencils - bloody brutal to stab yourself with, if you ask me.

Geier's babies - you don't want to deal with that psycho vamp's swords. ESPECIALLY when he's wielding them. ESPECIALLY when he's irked. Geier belongs to Candyexorcist, by the way.

MP3 players with the sound on high - need more be said? Beyond 'MY EARS! MY EARS! I'M DEAF! GOD HELP ME! OOOOWW! OOOOOOOOW!', of course.

Millions and millions of questions asked one after another without time between to give an answer when you are expected to reply to all of them - kids, anyone? The worst part is it's just wrong to yell at them for this, because they're really actually curious, they don't mean any harm, and they're often really cute when doing so. BUT YOU DARN WELL WANT TO.

Mary's bag that is way too big to ever be called a purse - Dear Sister's fictitious character could deal real hit points with THAT monster.

Writers block - I swear, someone must have DIED from that biological (or would it be psychological?) weapon.

Cass's chemicals - that vampire alchemist sure has a bang. And half the time it involves half the city going up in smoke. Cassandra Larimar belongs to Octironstar.

Lyla's psychological manipulation - this psychologist likes to tear whatever is left of her vic-, er, clients' mental stability apart and then build it back up piece by painful piece. It works. But it hurts. No pain, no gain!

Drawing a comic but being too impatient to finish it when you really want to do so - I feel like screaming when this happens. Sometimes I do.
---

Okay, so maybe all these things aren't exactly weapons. And maybe half of them have to do with some of my RPGs. But they're ALL TRUE, and they’re ALL SCARY.

Family Matters

These are some characters I invented and know very, very well – Phoenix Shifter, the spunky sweet country girl who can spout fire at will, and Theodore Rosefelt, her grandfather the snarky farmer. He's also a vampire (Ted was converted after Phoenix was born, so she isn’t ‘part vampire’ or anything like that) who seems only 25 in appearance, so that leads to confusion. He's also rather childish in a bratty sort of way and half mad due to traumatic events. But oh well. I love them both to death and this is a quick glimpse into their family life before Phoenix grew up (which is when I normally write her). I probably won't ever make a real book about either character, but that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun, does it now? ;-)

---

It is a well known fact that animosity can kindle amongst even the happiest families – especially family by marriage (exempli gratia, the Red Headed Stepchild, the Wicked Stepmother, THE INLAWS(1)). However, when disaster strikes, even those who are less than cordially inclined with one another must band together – because, when it comes right down to it, they are family, and that’s all that really matters. Even when disaster is a lovesick firegirl who doesn’t know better.

“Theodore, I…” Emily curled her lips around her teeth, twisting her tongue and attempting to continue. The elder raised a brow at his daughter-in-law, sitting up on the counter of her(2) tiny kitchenette curiously. The family chef, mentally sighing in relief at the familiar ground and excuse to snap, fumed(3). “Get off the counters – what are you, six? Molly hasn’t been up there for years.”

Teddy – resisting temptation and avoiding conflict (only so he could get her to continue, of course) – slipped off the shelf. “Yes m’am. It’s sixty, actually. You were saying?” he answered flatly.

Sighing again – this time in anxiety – Emily continued. “I need your advice.”

The words hung in the air for a while.

“I’ll be glad to answer any questions of a parental nature,” Theo prodded. “I’ve dealt with three of the monstrous things, after all. Worse than vampires.”

“You’re telling me? Your children moved out years ago and made ones of their own. I’m the one dealing with the things. And by complaining about vampires you are complaining about yourself, aren’t you?”

“I can complain about myself if I want, can’t I? You wouldn’t believe how hard it is living with me.” Emily started to concede adamantly, but Ted interrupted. “You’re stalling.”

Another sigh. “Phoenix is…” she trailed off again, tugging angrily at her black locks in annoyance. “She’s…”

“Forgetting her chores?”

“Yes. But that’s not the causal issue. There’s more to it.”

“Do continue.”

“She’s also… singing, though that’s not the fact of the matter either.”

Teddy paled – as much as a vampire can pale, anyhow. He managed a purplish hue to his grayish skin. “Not singing. Not her.”

Right on cue, a loud, out of tune, more shout-like than musical chant reminiscent of a cat in a blender or nails on a chalk board echoed through the windows as fifteen year old Phoenix Shifter began skipping towards home from her father’s forge. Mother and grandfather flinched in the horrible racket.

“Go on,” he hissed through a scrunched face.

“It gets worse,” Emily assured. “She keeps Molly up all night talking.”

“That can’t really be avoided, can it?” Theodore put in. “They get on, they share a bed, Phoenix is a gabby young lady – of course they’ll talk. That’s not even close to as bad as her attempting to sing.”

“But she talks all night long. And that’s not the bad part – there’s a reason behind all of this. She only talks about – ”

“Carl!” Phoenix chimed, crashing through the front door with her arms spread wide and a foolish, loony grin plastered over her childish face. Being a teenager, having rounded features and small eyes didn’t really give the desired sense of maturity. The poor girl actually looked cute – a fact of which she was horribly aware. At least she had her fire. She would die if it weren’t for the dear flames Phoenix could somehow conjure at will – of that much she was certain.

“What now, girl?” Emily groaned.

“He smiled at me yesterday, Mommy! He smiled!” the young girl’s arms swept across her heart as she goggled at the thatched roof none too far above her grandfather’s head. Then she noticed her grandfather’s head. “Hi there, Gramps!”

Theodore, having the self restraint to keep his jaw up, gaped with the sheer incredulousness of his eyes alone. They flicked to Emily, who cocked her head in affirmation. Even if that weren’t so, Phoenix’s emotions sprang out in an obnoxiously clear fashion loud enough for the vampires in the next kingdom to hear –let alone the grandfather who had been there her entire life.

His granddaughter was in love. His Emily Ana “Phoenix” Shifter (should be Rosefelt, the damn stubborn mother’s-last-name-taking child) was attracted to and dreamy over some boy who made her feel fluttery enough to sing. Being overprotective even of his son, the idea of his granddaughter – who seemed just yesterday to have been a little babe cooing at flickering fire – romantically attached to someone was sickening.

So you want her to stop spending time with this Carl boy? he asked his daughter-in-law with a quick tilt of the head (tolerating one another for years had its benefits).

Of course. But I’d prefer it if the girl would only get back on top of her chores; Molly and I can’t take care of everything ourselves(4), Emily conveyed crabbily, folding her arms and sticking out a hip as she glared at her daughter.

Phoenix dimmed in confusion, wondering why everyone wasn’t as happy as she was.

Teddy barely kept form rolling his eyes at his daughter-in-law’s narrow-mindedness, but he had more important things to think about. Like his granddaughter being in love. I’ve got it covered, then.

I just want advice. I can take care of this myself, Emily sniffed.

I’ve got it covered, he repeated with a quick nod.

In a flash he snapped up his Phoenix’s long red braid and pulled hard. His granddaughter called out angrily as he started dragging her across what passed for a room (it was far too tiny to be a living room or a kitchen OR a dining room, but the Shifter-Rosefelts used it for all three) towards the rickety door.

Emily’s eyes widened. “Release my daughter this instant, Theodore! I will not stand for horseplay in my house!”

“Fine them, Emily.” He slipped out the front entry – a shrieking, irate, fiery Phoenix in tow.

“You bloody monster- let me go- what are you doing?!- LET GO OF MY HAIR!” she screeched.

Theodore was about to roll his eyes when she flamed up, making him leap back. “Emily!” he called out, glaring at the blisters forming where her fire had licked his skin.

“UUUGH!!” Phoenix stomped, fists clenched. “Don’t you ever, ever, ever touch my hair again!”

Theodore, shaking off how unsettled the fire made him feel, managed a shrug. “I just wanted to tell you that I completely support your possible relationship with this Edward and you are very welcome, in my opinion, to spend time with him whenever. Oh, and your mother’s bugging me. Please skip your chores to annoy her,” he added.

“UUUGH!” Phoenix repeated, before stalking off angrily to weed her mother’s herbal garden. Before she made it, she whirled around: “And it’s Carl! The only Edward I know is stuck up and rude.” Reminds me of someone, she thought haughtily.

Teddy wiped off his hands in nervous satisfaction as she steamed away, wondering how many more times that trick would work before she (a) caught on or (b) burned him to a pile of ash. Because of this pondering, he missed the looming cloud of Emily until the hard slap hit his face, bringing him back to reality.

“I don’t know how you ran things in your family, but this is mine, Rosefelt, and I don’t care if you’re nineteen or a 102 - you will do as I say under my roof or with my children,” she snarled vehemently, glaring something terrible.

Theodore, one hand to his stinging cheek, wisely refrained from mentioning the two or three snide remarks bouncing around his head. Instead, he only pointed delicately to the literally fuming Phoenix doing her chores in the garden. Emily, not having the restraint of her father-in-law, dropped her jaw. She slapped him again before marching inside and slamming the door.

Ted found himself questioning his family’s taste in romantic partners, which eventually started him pondering whether or not Phoenix would ever forgive him if he scared this Carl out of town. Should be easy enough, with the teeth and all. That’s when, under the glint of lovely moonlight, quiet Christopher came out of his forge and started towards the garden.

“Hi, Dad,” he greeted softly.

“Our(5) Emily is in love.”

“I know. She was singing in the forge,” Christopher smiled. “You should listen to her talk about him. It sounds straight out of one of those romance novels my Emily always tells me about.”

“You’re all right with this atrocity?” Theodore blinked.

“Hell no. But it’s just a crush; it’ll pass.”

Teddy ran a hand through his scraggly red hair in annoyance. “Damn waiting. I hate waiting. They say you’re supposed to get patient with age. I just get this rushing feeling. Like I need to keep fighting because every second I have is something stolen, something I shouldn’t. Like I’m supposed to be dead and gone by now.”

“Lots of people live passed your age – immortal or not,” Chris assured gently, tinges of worry crossing his bearded face.

“I don’t want to die. I don’t plan on dying. Not ever, not if I can help it. Death is what I’m afraid of.”

“Daaaaaaaaa-dddddddddddddy!” wailed a voice from a nearby tiny window in Christopher’s tiny, tiny cottage. A pretty face framed with short black hair and bangs peered through the shutters, slightly panicked. “Daddy there’s a spider! And a cobweb!”

Christopher shrugged at his father, who managed a weak smile, before jogging off to the window to rescue his little Molly. Ted, taking a deep breath, trudged over to Phoenix with his hands in his pockets, mindful of Emily’s herbs (if only to keep from being slapped again).

“Hi, Phoenix,” he said, calling her by her preferred name to get on her good side. She shot him a nasty look and stuck out her tongue before continuing her work. He rolled his eyes before remembering what he came here for and sitting down beside her. “I’m a might mad. Not mad mad. Crazy mad. Due to that, I act a little oddly.”

“I know,” Phoenix grumbled.

He coughed awkwardly before shoving out the words as fast as possible. They mixed up and tumbled incomprehensibly, but it was supposed to be along the lines of: “I’m sorry for pulling your hair.”

She ignored him, flicking her red, orange, and golden hair (tied up in a loose braid) over her shoulder crabbily. He ruffled haughtily before continuing.

“But you did get it from me, didn’t you? So technically it’s mine,” Theo added flatly.

Phoenix shot upright from her weeding, scandalized. “I inherited my hair from my father, Grandpa! Not you.”

Teddy shrugged. “And he got it from me before that.”

“But it’s on my head!”

“Which you also got from me, judging by how stubborn you are.”

Phoenix rolled her eyes.

“And that, too,” Ted pointed out triumphantly. “I do that all the time.”

“I don’t go around pulling people’s hair.”

“You don’t, eh? I said I was sorry.”

She huffed. “I wouldn’t ever forgive you if your anniversary(6) wasn’t coming up. You get horrible then.” Ted shut up, folding his long fingers together as his eyes shot down. Phoenix sighed. “I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again.”

“Rosefelt! Phoenix!” Emily’s loud voice called. “The tarts are ready!”

Heads flipping to one another with excited grins, grandfather and granddaughter raced into the house and nearly knocked over the rickety nightstand that passed as a table in their hurry to sit. Emily sighed and served up the family – including Theodore, Phoenix, Molly, Christopher, and herself. Mouths watered until the woman of the house sat and took her first bite, allowing everyone else to dig into the pure delicacies.

“I simply love it, Mommy,” Molly cooed. Emily gave her daughter a quick smile.

“I think it’d be a bit better with a tad less sugar; it’s not quite tart enough for a tart,” Phoenix put in. “But it’s definitely divine.”

Emily glared at her eldest, Teddy and Christopher being too busy eating to talk.

Of course, looking back on the opening paragraph, sometimes families just go to hell no matter what you do. But they manage. Because in the end they’re family, and they’re stuck loving one another

----

(1)No more need be said.

(2)Despite being built by Christopher’s own hands, there was absolutely zero doubt as to whether or not his wife was the soul wielder of anything with culinary uses – no matter how good Phoenix was getting.

(3)Not nearly so literally as her daughter could, however.

(4)Emily had an odd complex where she felt anything she didn’t see someone do was something they didn’t actually do (at least according to her subconscious). Christopher did all his work in the forge, Theodore did all his work in his fields, and Phoenix usually liked to help out the men of the household, while Molly did everything with her mother. Because of this, Emily came out thinking everyone besides herself and her youngest daughter were lazy do-nothings. This led to complications.

(5)Theodore had troubles with Phoenix’s nickname. Her name was Emily, even be it her mother’s as well. She should be called by it, gosh darnnit. So when he spoke possessively of an Emily, it was always his granddaughter, and whenever he spoke of the original Shifter – the one who had convinced his Emily to take on a foreign family name – it was 'your'.

(6)This would be another anniversary as a widower for Theodore. He was immortal, yes, but the one woman he ever loved hadn’t been.

A Series of Tiny Updates

First in my long list of things I just need to update you all about is that I’ve cut my hair. Only this time I didn’t cheat and cut it from uber long to normal; see, now it’s above my shoulders. It’s only ever been this short when I was a little girl, as I spent the first ten years of my life growing it out. Or something like that.

So… I’ve cut my hair. I’ve still got two brothers, not three or another l’il sis, but those two are some of the handsomest, sweetest, cutest things to grace this Earth and I am so glad to have them. Dear Sister is still my very best friend, and she’s been keeping me up half the night gabbing. Once, she threw balled up tissues at me from her loft bed when I refused to talk and tried to get some sleep. Gee. Unfortunately, I’m not much better when it comes to chit-chit-chatting all night, so I can’t lop all the blame on to her. I can, however, with all the maturity I can muster, logically point out, she started it.

I am now a crazy crazy teen. Yip, I really really am, being a good fifteen years old. I want to get a job in a coffee shop of some kind, because despite the fact that I don’t actually drink the stuff, I sure love how it smells (particularly in the morning). I also want to get a driver’s permit, which I’m actually old enough to do. FIRST I’ve got to get around to reading that driver’s manual, which is… taking a while. But I’ll do it eventually.

I guess that’s all I’ve got to spew out for NOW; I’ll be saving the rest for later. Don’t forget, though – I’m now a published author and if you checked out my book I’d squeal with glee! There’s a link on the sidebar, or right here, too: http://www.amazon.com/Project-6-1-2-Zoe-M-Alley/dp/1453617884/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1286659923&sr=8-1

Unschooling

If you’ve been a regular reader of my blog for a long time, then you already know that I am a homeschooler/unschooler. By that I mean that I’ve never gone to a public school in my life, and that my teachers are my parents, the world, and everyone I meet. For example, my parents didn’t teach me to read, but they read to me constantly. Now I am fervent, speedy, and fluent in both writing and reading. I learn from experience and living, from reading and exploring, and from watching others. If a particular subject interests me (e.g. psychology or ballet) my family and I find a way for me to learn some more about it. I’ve loved this, because I can spend my days with my parents, and with my brothers and sister who are my classmates in the school of life and very best friends as well. I’ve loved this because I learn what I want, when I want it, and because rather than being told things, (for the most part) I see them for myself.

Now that you have a background of what I deem unschooling, or at least how I lived the early days of my life, I’ll take a step further. I have decided that though I wish to write my many stories and have them published, they won’t be able to support me, and because I love learning about human nature, I want to become a psychologist/counselor and write on the side. In order to reach that goal, it can take as many as nine years of college education. I’ve never been in a ‘school environment’, so we found an online high school to give me a feel of how that sort of thing works and that would pay for the first two years of community college if one wished. Mom and Dad made it very clear that they didn’t care in the slightest what grades I got so long as I was happy, and I was unafraid and excited. Looking back maybe I should have been a little apprehensive. I’ve never learned any of the things they’d offered before in a school environment (though Daddy has shown me some algebra and other nuances pertaining to math). Who knew how I’d handle it?

I was very curious as to how it’d turn out. Sometimes it was fun, and sometimes it was really annoying. Throughout it all, however, I do feel I came out with more knowledge. Mommy and Daddy have never put me in a ‘formal learning environment’ (excluding recreational activities such as acrobatics, ballet, art… etc.), so the only things I knew about the subjects were the things they’ve shown me, or the things the world has taught me—yet I’m a straight-A student. I didn’t even have to ‘catch up’ with anything, I just jumped right in and moved along. I’m not saying I didn’t work hard or that the work was easy, but moving from nothing to an online high school was surprisingly simple. I grasped all the subjects, and I was able to learn and grow easily. The one thing I did have trouble with was multiplying negative numbers by negative numbers; it was so hard for me to comprehend how less-than-nothing times less-than-nothing became something. However, I think I understand it now, even if I can’t quite put it to words. That was probably the hardest thing for me, but history, earth science, psychology, and English I was able to tackle relatively easily and quickly.

That started to make me wonder—if that’s exactly where people my age should be, and I’ve had no such schooling my entire life, how comes I was able to do it, and get straight A’s? What about all those years students spend in school beforehand to prepare themselves for ninth grade? What use is it if someone who’s never done any of that can go through it without too much headache? We’re talking hours and hours of children’s lives, spent away from their parents and away from their siblings. Even when they get home they still have homework to take care of. It’s always fascinated me that school-kids can do school, do homework, do extracurricular activities, hang out with friends and still have time for family. I do almost nothing and I’m always swamped. But I’m getting off track here with this whole paragraph; I suppose I’d better get back on it.

All in all, I enjoyed this. It was an interesting experience and I’m going to try to start college this fall to work towards my goal of becoming some sort of counselor and freelance writer. But I don’t feel I’ve missed out on anything during those years of my life that I was unschooled. Quite to the contrary, I feel I’ve had an experience I wouldn’t trade for anything. I got to grow up under my parent’s guidance rather than several teachers, alongside my Dear Sister and later my Sweet Brothers rather than classmates, and I have had so many friends all different ages rather than being limited to those who are my own. I’ve let the Earth and Life teach me, I’ve written and loved and learned and grown, and I have no regrets.

Galaxy

My Boys Are So Cute

I was playing with Brother1&2 earlier today, and eventually I was done playing. Brother1 was upset, so I gave him a hug. Brother2 got jealous, and wanted me to hold him. Anyhow, they both started fighting over me, brutally. It was so sweet (in a twisted kind of way)!

Later, Brother1 was sitting on my lap and said,

"What's that day called?"
"What day?" I asked.
"The day where you give."
"Huh?"
"The day where you give thanks."
"It's called thanksgiving, sweetheart!"

Oh, my--I love my boys!


Galaxy

My Birthday, 09

I wanted to post this in September, but now I'm realizing that I'm running out of time, so here's the gist of it RIGHT NOW:

1. Over View: This year I decided not to have a party or anything; just hang out with my family and the like. We tidied up the house a bit the day before, and Nana came over for a while to visit. It was fun.
2. Cake: For cake I had sweetpotato pudding (made with sweetpotatoes, pineapple, orange juice and walnuts blended together) on a yummy nut crust (more of a 'pie', I suppose) with candles that spelled 'Happy Birthday!' and one musical one that played the tune. It was wonderful! For other yummy things I also had my heart's content of watermelon, along with a chocolate (or was it carob...?) pudding that was more than divine. All in all, the food was wonderful.
3. Movies: I spent quite a bit of time trying to pick out the movies I wanted to watch, but eventually I chose A Knight's Tale. Mom and Dad had previously watched it, and I enjoyed it very much. It was really, really sweet at this one point... but he so should have ended up with the blacksmith! That other girl was LAME!
4. Board Game: Nana took the boys outside and the rest of the fam and I played a Sherlock Holmes board game. It was loads of fun, and, for once, Mommy didn't win (she always gets those games of deduction); Daddy did. I'm pretty sure she had the answer; he just beat her back to the 'start' space.
5. Presents: Originally I wasn't going to have presents this year, but it ended up a little differently. A couple days before my birthday my parents gave me an old computer they had put together themselves a long time ago, the day directly before they gave me the AWESOMEST keyboard ever as well as a nice mouse, and ON my birthday I got a notebook, a USB port, special headphones for my MP3 player, and Dear Sister gave me a bookmark that she had made herself--a pretty blue gem on a blue string with nice beads.
6. SUNFLOWERS: As I may or may not have mentioned, Sunflowers are my favorite flowers ever. It's nearly impossible to be upset when Sunflowers are in the room, and they make me so, so happy! I'll post more about them later, but you get the gist. Anyhow, when I was at Costco I saw this great big beautiful bouquet, and Dear Sister bought it for me on the spot so I could have it for my day! It made me so happy, but they died a little more quickly than I would have hoped... oh well, they were more than wonderful while they lasted.

All in all I had an absolutely wonderful birthday, hanging out with family and watching TV and just plain goofing around. This all took place September 7th, 2009, when I turned exactly 14 years old.

Happy birthday, Galaxy!

ME

Some Silly Cartoons

Brother1 asked me to draw some cartoon-like things because we had been playing this game called 'Pajama Sam' and it had things like that, so I complied. I felt like posting the drawings--for no reason in particular--so here they are!

This is Mr. Brock Lai. He's a broccoli, for those of you who don't know.

This is Collette Ussri. She's a bunch of lettuce. This is Cookie Brigton. She's a Chocolate Chip Cookie.This is Ms. Chiquita Bana. She's a Banana.

The next bit is done sort of like a comic strip... Brother1 helped me with it, and it's sort of lame, but it was fun to do and I'd like to look back on it years in the future:

This is the un-named Pencil Wizard. If you have any suggestions (for his name), PLEASE comment them!

This is Mr. Cliff. He's a hanger (like a 'cliff hanger'...? Get it...?).

Brother1 drew this one. He's Mr. Pizza, and he's a pizza.

Well, there you go! Just some silly things Brother1 and I doodled at the beginning of spring... speaking of spring, I'm so happy that it's finally here! After Spring comes Summer! I love Summer!

Happy Spring and happy Doodling!

Galaxy

2008, and 2009

2009... not quite there yet, but there aren't many minutes until then. Wow.

When '08 started, it felt like forever. Now it's practically gone, and '09 will seem like forever. It'll be a small slug, and then slowly pick up pace as the year goes on.

2008... the year I became a teen (YES!), the year Brother1 turned four (WHEN will I get used to that?! I still think he's 2 sometimes!), the year my beautiful sister had a spy party, the year I had my first Blogger Anniversary, the year my daddy got a new job, the year Brother2 turned one... the year I reached page 100 on K.o.D.... This wonderful, wonderful year.

Wow.

Anyways, I have a couple resolutions...

1. Publish K.o.D. by Christmas (yes, I will do it this... er, next year)
2. Learn 50 new words
3. Be able to carry some sort of a conversation in Latin.
4. My joint pains will be GONE
5. Learn to play a five line piece on the piano--two handed!

I hope everyone had a wonderful 2008--and will have a better '09!!!

Galaxy

I have decided!

Yes, everyone, I at last know what I'm going to be for Halloween!

Not a Fairy... (I was one when I was six)

Not a Vampire... (did that... twice)

Not a Witch... (too cliche)

Not Medusa... (honestly, getting the snakes out of my hair was worse then getting my hair up for a ballet recital. That's saying something. I am never doing that AGAIN!)

Not a Harpy... (I was that last year)

Not a Ghost... well, actually, I am a ghost, but a bit more specific...

I will be The Ghost of Anne Boleyn!

You probably know who she is, but I didn't until I read Shakespeare's Secret (which was fairly recently) so I'll just say a few things about her:

She was the second wife of King Henry VIII (the 8th), mother to Queen Elizabeth I (the first), and was beheaded for adultery to the King. Whether or not those charges were true is under speculation... there really isn't a way to know for sure. Supposedly she was cheating on King Henry with five different men (it might have been four... I am uncertain), one of which was her brother (rather weird, right?). All of them (one might have been spared, but I'm pretty sure all of them) were beheaded. Including Anne.
Probably the main reason for her execution was that she never gave birth to a boy, just one girl, Elizabeth. She did get pregnant at least one other time, but the children never made it.

King Henry had four other wives after Anne, and one before. He had three children together, a daughter named Mary (with his first wife, Catherine of Aragon--how do you spell that? I ), Elizabeth (Anne Boleyn's girl, who only saw her mother in her youngest years), and a boy, Edward (can't remember his mom. I get them confused) and three of his six wives were named Catherine (though they differed on the spelling).

I've liked Anne since I first read about her... she seemed smart, kind and brave to me from what I know about her. I think it will be a lot of fun to be her ghost for this Halloween, and I plan to do a big bloody gash on my neck where my head had been 'chopped off'.


Galaxy

P.S. I'm not really certain of what kind of costume I'll wear, so suggestions would be much appreciated!!!

The sweetest thing in existance...

...lives in my house. He is my brother, and he is amazing.

Earlier today I asked Brother1 if he'd love me forever. He said he'd have to 'sink' (how he says 'think') about it.
So, I was just sitting on a big comfy arm-chair hours later (I had completely forgotten about the incident) when Brother1, with a big beautiful smile, climbs up and cuddles me (this is a real something on it's own; he usually only cuddles with Daddy) and says:

"I had to sink about if I would love you forever for a long time. And my answer is yyyyes!"
"REALLY?!" I say in my oh-my-gosh-you-are-the-most-wonderful-thing-in-the-world tone.
"Yes, and I'll never stop loving you, and I'll love you 'til I die and I'll still love you while I die, and I love you, and I'll never un-love you..." and then he started hugging me while he continued to tell me how he'd love me forever. How cute and amazing and wonderfully he said this all and more is impossible to put in writing... I'll I can say is I'll love him forever, and apparently, he'll love me too!

I really don't know how I got so lucky.


Galaxy