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Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts

Monday, June 27, 2011

Pleasures vs. Habits

"First you form habits, then habits form you."

That's something pretty much everyone's heard around here, right? What I'm quickly starting to realize as I grow through life is just how sad these habits can be. Things I used to love doing -- things I would do every single day just because they were so darn awesome -- become habits. Something that is forever a part of my day, whether I like it or not.

Y'know, I used to enjoy making up a smoothie. Now it's something I expect, and even when I have it, the drink doesn't hit the spot like it used to. No tantalizing titillation of fireworks twisting over my taste buds to be found. What's worse is that when it doesn't happen, I just feel sad.

I've taken part in lots of online forums. Some were wonderful. Some were lacking. Some I still adore. And some I am attached to, in a way I'd rather not be. I keep up with these in an almost obsessive manner that blocks out the sunshine from my days and keeps me glued to the computer. I feel awful if I don't check them and unsatisfied even when I do.

While I'm on the topic of satisfaction, I'm quickly realizing how lacking that is in my life as of now. EVERYTHING is disappointing me. My favorite songs don't send my heart thumping anymore. I can't pay attention to books. Food I used to love is lacking. Everywhere I go, just about anything I do, leaves me feeling vacant. Like there's something missing from what I've just done. Like I hadn't really done it at all.

Don't think for a moment I'm unhappy. This post is certainly coming across far gloomier than I intended it to be. I guess I'm just growing up and losing my childish joy. It's weird; I always thought I'd be one of those people to play shamelessly like a kid when I was thirty-something.

I'm starting college this fall and very excited for that. I'm going to take a class in drawing that I'm really looking forwards too. There's also a musical I intend to audition for this winter. Family's over this July, and my dear mama's birthday is only a few days away. Overall, I'm looking forwards to the future (here's where I start singing Thanks for the Memoriesby Fall out Boy. Heheh XD), and I'm enjoying my now.

I do, however, think I need to eat more fruit. It's such a shame the watermelon's so bad this year. *pouts*

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Er.

Hi.

It's been a while, hasn't it?

Okay, so I'm belated, but here mid-February I'll gladly grin and wish you the best this 2011. So far, my year's especially grand because this one, for the first time since 2008, I'm starting it without rheumatoid arthritis. I'M CURED! HURRAY! Yay for low-dose naltroxone even if it gives me insomnia! I CAN MOVE AGAIN!!

Which brings me to my first resolution. I want to get in shape! Sitting on the couch writing stories/watching tv/writing fanfiction/other non-physical activities (bad girl!) lost me the gorgeous physique I had when I was twelve. My muscles faded, a stomach appeared, AND I gained quite a bit of facial fat. Which is just laaaaaaame, 'cause I'm now a walking weakling as well as totally inflexible. I really want to be strong and lean again. Sooooo... #1! Get fit.

(There was a day I thought I'd never, ever, ever, ever have to wish that, and I allowed myself a bit of smugness over all the poor people who did. I feel utterly evil for that now.)

MOVING ON. I want to finish That Story with Esme and Faun! I still owe you a post describing those two darling gypsies, don't I, since you already Met Cass (see my previous post ;) ). I was writing a thousand words every single day in that novel for a few in a row, but I'm very quickly going nowhere. Writer's block be-darned. I guess I just have to sit down and do it. Now we've got #2! Finish That Story.

I'd also like to learn German, but it's going to be hard to find a way to do that. In the meanwhile, I already know a few words! Like danke and guten abend and gut Gott.

So, there you go. Get fit! Finish a story (I've got tons of ideas! I'll tell you all about them later, I promise. There's so much I want to share)! Learn German!

I guess now I'm off to start the new year and continue my old life, which I adore quite grandly. Much love, and keep checking over here at my galaxy, 'kay? I'll never abandon this dear blog for good ;)

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Meet Cass

(Just so you know, this is an old picture)

Ladies and gents, meet Cass. He's a Kaleedish snype (aka Egyptian Knight; Kaleed is roughly a mix between Egypt and the romanticized medieval era with a bit of my own flare ;D), and the first in a series of posts on my newest literary endeavor, a story that has yet to be named. Heheh. He is the third main character, and shows up about a third of the way through the book.

Actually, Cass isn't really a snype just yet. He finished all his training a year early because he's so darn dedicated (you would be tried to find a more patriotic Kaleedish subject, that's for sure). That would be a good thing, if it didn't mean he had nothing to do anymore besides hang around the pharaoh's palace. He can't even graduate until he slays and flays a great beast, and since he is still technically a squire, he can't leave his post as a castle guard.

Cass makes the most of it all, of course. Being a squire puts him in a relatively high social status, a fact that he take to its fullest potential. When he isn't practicing with his khopesh (check it out! The black and gold one looks most like how I imagine his: just here ), showing off to his friends, practicing his duties or sneaking a peak at the shows folks put on for the pharaoh (he likes fake magicians best, with mirrors and all kinds of tricks), he's taking care of his appearance, because Cass is girly like that. He keeps his would-be blonde hair cropped to a buzz - since hardly a soul grows out their hair in Kaleed - and wears a long hat like shone above to block out the hot desert sun. He finds duste leftover from magic wielders and brushes his teeth with it, so when he smiles, they sparkle. He's extremely pleased with that effect and likens it to the fake magic shows he adores, even though it's real magic.

Not only Cass is extremely skilled when it comes to fighting, but he truly takes the code of chivalry to heart and follows its rules to the letter, carrying them around in a little papyrus book. Despite his morality, our squire is an inherently power-hungry person. Cass's greed and Cass's wish to be a true hero often play mental battle in the poor guy's head, which can make him freeze on the outside. He isn't the cleverest fellow out there, and his Sordian complexion belies his ties to Kaleed. He's cocky, conceited, overconfident, vain, greedy, and skinny despite his musculature. But beyond it all, Cass truly means the best, he's mean with the sword, the bravest man you'll ever meet (sometimes even to a foolish degree), and a real sweetie, too. Love him, hate him, or something in between - he'll just be glad for the attention ;D

(On a side note, if he were a character from King Arthur, Cass would totally be Kaye)

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

A Final Follow-up So I Can Shut Up About the PJ Series

(You might want to read this post before reading this one:

http://somewhereinthisgalaxy.blogspot.com/2010/12/because-true-love-isnt-shaky-or.html
)

BEWARE, Percy Jackson and the Olympians SPOILERS LIE AHEAD!

I really really really really really really enjoyed that series. I hated the love triangle (bah. If you could call it that. Rachel Elizabeth Dare never had a chance), but the action was nonstop and the whole thing was really funny. Most the characters didn't seem to have distinct voices in the dialogue, though Mr. Riordan was magically able to give them well defined personalities anyhow. I really really really did like that book, and here are some things that made it rock all the harder:

Relatable villains! Extra brownie points for the bad guys beyond Kronos you could actually get. (Luke, I'm looking at you. Ethan too. Can't forget Prometheus!)

Nonstop action! Things just kept going and going and going like the Energizer Bunny.

Hades! How could people hate such a grouchily lovable god? Poor guy really got the short end of the stick, and I couldn't help but love him. I just wish Mr. Riordan had taken note that out of all the other Greek gods, in mythology he and Persephone are the only ones who don't cheat on each other. I don't think he should have changed that for this story, but I still really enjoyed it. And you gotta love little Nico :D

Tyson! Because he is just the cutest cyclops ever.

Prometheus! Because he is just the awesomest titan ever, and I really do think he was good intentioned at heart.

Percy! Seriously, that kid really impressed me. He focused on the battle at hand and not some silly one-sided love mess. He gave up a chance at immortality to bring some recognition to demigods. He was very much in love with Annabeth throughout. He was brave and bold and wicked clever. He was forgiving and tolerant but drew the line. I think Mr. Riordan did a great job with our lead.

Some things I was disappointed in:

Hera. She isn't so lenient. This is the woman who made a man kill his own family (two little boys. Two children. His wife, too) for daring to be the son of a woman she hated and Hera's husband. She wouldn't let some puny demigod speak up to her like Annabeth did and only leave a few cow messes as punishment.

Hermes. So he was avoiding Luke because of the prophecy? Well, Greek Mythology has proved that you can do whatever the heck you want - but you won't change fate. Why couldn't he be with his son UNTIL all that happened? It would end the same way, that's how it always works in myth.

The spy. Silena? Hmm, I don't know - I was suspicious of Michael Yew. Because he was peeving the Ares cabin, I thought it might have been to keep them out of war. I thought he lied when he said he had given Clarisse the chariot, and that Silena would discover so when she went back to camp. Our daughter of Aphrodite returning with the Ares cabin to fight the draken really rocked, though, so that made up for it :nod: And I guess she made sense, and she surprised me, which was nice, but I'd hoped for a twistier more interesting conclusion to that mess.

And you know how I feel about Annabeth. Seriously, she spent the whole first two books mooning after Luke, but when Percy makes friends with a spunky clever redhead she gets all funny. Which I guess is just silly like all humanity (the race she so vehemently demeaned. Grr), but it still peeved me. I was really happy for her when she got to redesign Olympus, though. That has to be a dream come true for the girl, I know she'll do a great job.

I saw a picture for one the craziest ideas I've ever heard up on dA. Luke/Rachel? REALLY? I can't shake the feeling that it just might work. Especially since EVERYONE loves Luke. Thalia. Annabeth. Now Silena Beauregard. Rachel was only a matter of time ;-)

Check out the picture yourself: http://ribkadory.deviantart.com/art/Luke-n-Rachel-188240963

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Because True Love Isn't Shaky or Uncertain, and action packed books rock

(If you want to understand this post better, try reading this one: http://somewhereinthisgalaxy.blogspot.com/2010/12/because-i-have-really-soft-spots.html )

I don’t want to strangle Annabeth. I’ve been thinking about it, and I realized the idea makes me sicker than her comment on mortals did in the first place. I wouldn’t be capable.

What I do want is for that Anna girl to quit calling Percy a coward, to listen to him, to stop picking on Rachel, to worry about other things besides a silly love triangle and work with the guy she cares about to SAVE THE WORLD before it bloody ends.

And I want Percy to stop leading on a girl he doesn’t really care for and get together with the one he does already. I respect Percy, sure, because he is focusing on his mission to save the world and Olympus and all that instead of Rachel vs. Annabeth (which I think is the main reason he’s letting R.E.D. get cozy with him in the first place). But still, he should be clearer. It’s just not fair on either end.

And Rachel! I wish Rachel would tell the guy about her silly visions. Sure, they might just be dreams. But they might not. Better safe than sorry. Or, at least, I’m assuming she’s having visions. It’s hard to tell in stories like this when you’ve just gotten into it.

I’m really loving this book to pieces. Hestia rocks to high heaven. I still wish there wasn’t a silly love triangle, but the humor’s great and the pace fantastic. It’s nice having a story where things just keep on happening.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Because I'm silly and passionate

Gosh darnnit, I’m fed up.

Okay, so there’s this really awesome series. It’s by a guy named Rick Riordan, it’s called Percy Jackson and the Olympians, and you’ve probably heard of it. It’s got modernized Greek Mythology, adventure, humor, excitement, and I love it to pieces. It’s been forever since I’ve touched anything from that series, but, jumping in on that final book, Mr. Riordan does an unbelievable job of catching me up. I could probably just read that one novel without any of the others and still get what’s going on. And it doesn’t feel repetitious even if you do remember what happened, because it’s like fond memories, calling back something you enjoyed a long time ago with a funny, dry twist to it in the narrative.

Anyhow, it’s a great book, it’s a great story, it’s great fun.

WHICH IS WHY THIS WHOLE THING IRKS ME SO MUCH.

There’s this character, who’s been there forever, who’s the romantic interest, who’s totally ending up with Percy no matter how any of us feel (though I’m getting the picture that people like her. I think I liked her too, ages ago. Before THE INCIDENT). Now I feel really weird about this, because I’ve adored the villains of a couple stories. I’ve relished in the messed up antiheroes. I’ve loved flaws that make a person cracked, but still leave them pure and lovely. But I hate Annabeth. I can’t stand her. She’s ruining the series for me, all because of one dumb thing she said when she was hurt and upset.

I wish Mr. Riordan had left romance out all together in this series (but kept the girls, ‘cause girls rock. Isn’t it weird how in general they only include girls in action series for the purpose of romance?). If he had, I wouldn’t be dealing with this trauma. Every second of the story that pretty grey eyed blonde takes up is a second I spend seething in animosity. And it’s not that I like the other girl better, though I guess I do (she introduces herself by her full name! Who does that? Who in the world introduces herself by her full name? Rachel Elizabeth Dare. The only person I know weird enough to do that is ME, which I guess makes me biased. But I want to make it VERY CLEAR that the reason I despise Annabeth has nothing to do with R.E.D.). It’s that Athena’s daughter hit my worst pet-peeve ever in literature, similar to the reason I resent Arya from Inheritance and elves in general in most stories (note I said most).

There’s this point, when Rachel and Percy and Annabeth are traveling together. Percy and Annabeth are demigods, meaning one of their parents was human, and one of them was a Greek God. Rachel’s a human, a mortal, and she likes Percy. Anna knows she likes Percy, and apparently Anna likes Percy too, even though she makes a point to insult and berate him all the time (I guess she’s nice enough otherwise, and the hate/love relationships can be cute when done properly, but really, I’m kind of getting bored when it comes to that). And there’s this point, where Annabeth says – ‘She’s just a mortal’ in this horrible tone, and I quote, “She said ‘mortal’ like it was some kind of disease”.

Excuse me. But last time I checked, I’m mortal, and I’m the one reading this bleeding story. Last time I checked, mortals built the Great Wall of China, and invented airplanes, and rollercoasters, and wrote brilliant stories – oh, wait, were all those folks who did great things demigods too? Because apparently George Washington was, in this series. Sooooo… if you want to be a respectable, responsible, powerful and/or brilliant person you’ve got to have a parent who’s a god? And if that person doesn’t happen to have a parent who’s a god, what does that make this ‘mere mortal’? A pawn, on some great big chess board? A fleeting speck of dust to be flicked away on the wind? An incompetent, uncreative, stagnant, helpless nothing?

Right. They’re just a mortal.

So I’m overreacting. I’m way overreacting. But the thought, that someone’s parentage can make someone ‘better’ or ‘worse’ than someone else makes me feel sick. Whenever I read about Annabeth, whenever she shows up, I get this sour, bitter taste in my mouth and feel sick in my stomach. It’s ruining this brilliant story for me and honestly, honestly infuriating me.

I used to get confused when people went off on moral characters so passionately and vehemently, while sticking up for the rotten ones. Now I think I understand. I guess that moral character just hit that person’s ‘spot’ like Annabeth hit mine. She’s a cool enough character; tough, clever, not at all helpless. A little arrogant, I guess, because all heroes have to have a ‘fatal flaw’ (so hubris is hers), but a cool enough character. I think I remember liking her. It’s such a shame, really. Because I so love this series, but now, reading it, I feel like throwing up.

I want to wrap my fingers around her neck, squeeze, and ask her what she thinks of mortals now. And I don’t even feel guilty about it, which makes me a little worried.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Do you know what rocks?

I’ll tell you what rocks! Polar bears. I mean, they’re HUGE. They’re like real, live magical monsters. I mean seriously, there should be more books with polar bears in them (besides the Golden Compass; that didn’t really interest me). A werebear would be a heck of a lot cooler than a werewolf, if you asked me.

My case: They’re ten feet tall, they’ve got big claws, they eat a fridge full of seal for just one meal, they have really sharp teeth, they live in a remote area, and they roar. MONSTERS. But they’re furry and cuddly warm creatures too, which means in a story it would be relatively easy to write in a soft side to whatever part they played. They’re perfect writing material if you ask me, and my fingers are just ITCHING to do something with them.

The only problem being: What?

So far, all I could think up was a fellow named Faun, with a personality I’m still building up, but I think it’d be a similar to Theodore Rosefelt’s (another of my characters – you might remember me ranting on him. Yes, he was named in fond remembrance of the United States’ former president of a similar name). He sold his soul (or maybe just half of it; I’m still working on that) to have the ability to shift forms into that of a bear whenever he chooses. I’m still figuring him out, though, and I’ve no clue what story he’s going to take part in. *shrugs helplessly*

Anyhow, I just felt like unloading my fascination and excitement about a beast nearly twice my height. I’d love to hear what you think and know about polar bears – especially in regards to literature – , as nowadays, all you hear about them is how they’re going extinct due to melting ice (which is really a very very sad thing).

Monday, October 25, 2010

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.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Sad Endings and Mush

Now, I understand that everyone has different tastes, and that's just fine. It's a good thing, I guess. I mean if everyone in the world wanted to be a journalist and nothing else we'd have some serious problems, wouldn't we? ;-) But I - well, I just really really don't like sad endings.

First off, the whole point of reading or watching anything is to feel good, isn't it? And a sad ending really doesn't leave me feeling good. Besides, if the whole time the movie has been building and building up to 'How are these characters possibly going to get out of this?' Then BAM, they just don't, I feel rather cheated.

I guess a lot of times people are just going for an 'impact' when they kill off your favorite character or make all hope lost. And I suppose that in some cases that makes sense; Romeo and Juliet probably wouldn't be near as famous if they'd both survived, eh? But if the impact is a sad one that leaves you feeling miserable - I just don't see the point. Ugh, and I hate those endings that leave you crying and crying when really nothing could ever have been done differently by most the characters, like in The Phantom of the Opera. *sigh*

ANYHOW I couldn't think of anything else to post about, and since I'm suffering from the dreaded Writer's Block, my fall back ended up book related today. What’s really on my mind is whether or not I should completely switch out May Petersen from Kings of Darkness since she doesn't really have much of a personality, but then someone pointed how it's nice in that kind of an adventure for a character to lack much distinction, just so you could imagine that you were the one going through all this wonder whilst she does. My brain feels like mush and I ended up deciding I'll try switching out main characters and write for a while. I might scrap it later and start from scratch once more, but I might love it, too. We’ll see. Wish me luck, please!

Saturday, October 23, 2010

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.

Friday, October 22, 2010

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

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

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.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Music

Being a crazy, crazy teen, I've been VERY into music of late. Some of my favorite bands are Shinedown, Evanescence, Solas, Snow Patrol, Three Doors Down, Flyleaf, Breaking Benjamin... wonderful groups like that. I love music with heavy beats and a catchy melody, or pretty voices mixed with hard guitars and drums (Evanescence all the way), and Celtic I near always find lovely. I'm not a Lady Gaga fan, nor so much into hip-hop, rap, or country. But there are always a few good songs in every genre, at some point at least. Speaking of which, I have far too many favorite songs to list, but Rooftops is truly glorious, and you should blast that right now yourself. "... All the love, I've met - I have no, regrets. If it all, ends now, I'm set. Will we make our mark, this time? Will we always say, we tried? Standing on the rooftops, everybody scream your heeeeeeeeeart oooooooout..."

Did I mention I was a published author yet? Oh, wait, I have. *sniffs* There's a link on my sidebar if you want to check out my book ;-)

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Iiiiiiiiiiiiii'm Baaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaaack!

She’s back from the dead, and now a published author!

Yip, y’all heard me right. I’ll be posting on a regular basis once more, and I’ve finally got a book available to buy on amazon.com. But it’s not Kings of Darkness.

Remember that script I wrote that I was using to make a movie with some friends? Well, that fell apart, so I wrote it into a book and self published it. It’s called Project 6-1-2 and you can check it out here: 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

Beyond that, my arthritis is all but gone, thanks to extreme weird eating and low-dose naltroxone taken long term. Hallelujah! I’m much out of shape due to lots of sitting around (I went from 95lbs to 137lb without growing an eighth of an inch), but hey, I can move now, so hopefully I’ll be fit again soon.

So now you’ve got one happy Galaxy glad to write and signing off with much love. Expect to hear a heck of a lot more about her shortly!

Saturday, January 9, 2010

The Three Scariest People In the World

Hello, everyone!

Today I am posting about the three scariest people in the world—or at least the three scariest people in the world to me. Here they are, in order of most frightening (the scariest first, least scary last):


Jonathon Teatime
(pronounced teh-ah-tim-eh)


A fictional assassin from a book by Terry Pratchett called Hogfather and a movie by the same name. He is a villain that is... so creepy. He makes chills run down my spine, and when I walk down the halls at night I always check for him and that devil-quick knife of his. He's cheerful, and has this way of moving faster than the eye. First he's behind you, then in front of you, then... anywhere. No words can really describe how terrifying I find him. I’ve had nightmares of him. Literally!

Yet at the same time, he is hysterical in both book and movie (while being more frightening than anything... odd combo, eh?) and makes some of the funniest comments throughout (though a few Death—not the state of being, the anthropomorphic personification—makes definitely beat him). I'm glad I've seen/read the story/movie, in fact they’re some of my favorites, but... he’s so terrifying!!!


Sylar

(or Gabriel Gray)


This fear is from the television show Heroes. You might know the actor as Spock from Star Trek, but before that he was Sylar, a psychokiller with super-powers who goes around killing other people with super powers in the most brutal ways and stealing their powers. His natural power is to see when things are broken, see how to fix them, and have the need to know. He was a watch maker/fixer before he… started killing people.

I'm more afraid of Teatime, but I'd much rather be killed by him than Sylar. With Teatime you see him, then in a flash you’re dead. Or you don't even see him. Or you drive him in a coach to the Tooth Fairy's castle and then he kills you. Either way, it's (usually—or rather, if you aren’t a dog or a maid or a butler before his superior told him his way of working ‘lacked elegance’) quick and clean. Not so with Sylar—he's brutal.


Dear Sister After You’ve Messed With (sometimes including looking at) Her Stuff

(she wouldn’t let me take a picture of her. Just imagine a beautiful, pale-faced girl with huge brown eyes open really, really wide and her lips pursed and her face glaring at you with a fire you’d only imagine in the depths of the most fiery pits of eternal damnation, yet still with the coldness of the darkest, snowiest winter, wrapping your soul and very being with ice)


Yep, my best friend, my dear love, my baby sister is one of my greatest fears. It's not the glare that's scary—it’s what comes after it!


Well, there you go; my three greatest fears in life (in the form of people, at least). Who are yours?



Galaxy

Monday, January 4, 2010

Project 6-1-2 (and a happy new year while I'm at it)

Happy New Year, everyone! I hope your 2009 was filled with moments of joy and love. I know mine was (though I still wish this awful arthritis would quit picking on me ;-D). My resolution for this year is to publish A book. ANY of my books, and not necessarily King of Darkness, as it looks like I'm going to do some major changes on how I'm going to go about writing it, and it won't be done for a long time. There are some shorter stories (that aren't series!) I'm working on, though, so I plan to publish one of them before I turn fifteen.

Okay, now that that's over with, I can move on to what I really want to post about: PROJECT 6-1-2!!!

If you know me well, you know I love to write (as much as I hate it. But that's the way writing goes--it's a love/hate relationship) with a passion that runs down deep into my soul and heart. I love creating new worlds, I love meeting and shaping and growing characters and I love each and every one of them--even, in a way, the villains. You can't understand how much joy it brings me to know all the worlds and people I've created.
Anyhow, I have lots of really cool premises and starts, but I have troubles pulling them through. I was complaining to Mom about this one day when I came up with a particularly cool premise, and she told me just to write it. I told her I really had no idea where to start and had nothing to write. She told me:
"Then write the nothing--but if all you do is sit and think about how you never finish anything you never will. Just write it." (there was more to it, but it was over a week ago so I'm having troubles remembering it)
Yep, I've got a really awesome and inspirational mother, and I am so grateful to her, because if she hadn't told me those words I wouldn't have the 'nothing' I've been working on for the past week or so: Project 6-1-2.

I normally write fantasy, but this particular story is a sci-fi. Here's a back-of-the-case description:

In the year 2030, when near 18-year-old Emma Corte begins to have terrible nightmares of murder, mayhem, and a mysterious assassin, she also begins to notice differences in her abilities--since when could she defeat five trained men with her bare hands?
Meanwhile, in another world, Destin, the chief of security of a mysterious land called 'Arrivia', and his assistant, Argon, attempt to unravel the mystery of a string of murders, which is mysteriously linked to Emma Corte and the long abandoned, terrible accident of Project 6-1-2.

It's got plot twists, and mysteries, and villains, and though it's mostly black and white, there is a little bit of gray. It'd be soooooo cool if I could ever get this made into any kind of movie--I really think it'd make at least a somewhat enjoyable watch if it was done right.
The really amazing thing about this script is that it only took me seven days to write it--SEVEN DAYS! I am so, so proud of it, and I love all of my characters so much. Here are the main four it revolves around:

Destin: The calm, cool and calculating Constable of Arrivia, Destin is brilliant, even
by Arrivial standards. He has worked hard and long to reach his position and is proud of his achievements, even if he doesn't show it. Good at putting his emotions out of the equation, he rules with head--sometimes drowning out his heart.
Argon: Argon is the assistant of Destin and is much more aggressive than his cool counterpart. Strong, gruff and sarcastic, he has acute instincts and prefers to leap before he looks--when Destin isn't policing him. Despite their many differences and verbal clashes, Argon looks up to his superior and holds great respect for him.
Emma: Though Emma spends most of the movie confused and frantic, she is more naturally calm and soft-spoken when the world isn't falling apart around her. Strong and kind, Emma trusts her instincts and heart to guide her way.
Enden: Enden is an assassin, and has no one in the world save himself. For someone capable of such dark acts, one would be surprised to learn that he is pleasant company, naturally friendly and easily brought to laughter when around--even if sometimes this nature can be terribly unnerving. An expert in martial arts and knife throwing, he is far more cunning than one might first guess from his light demeanor.

Of course there are a few side characters, but this is the main quartet who dominate the screen in my script. I love them all and had so much fun writing them that I had to share this with you, so I hope it didn't bore you to tears.

Thank you for reading!
(oh, and happy new year again!)


Galaxy

Sunday, September 27, 2009

K.o.D.: tRN

K.o.D.: t.R.N.



Can anyone guess what this stands for...? Anyone...?

You guessed it! Kings of Darkness: The Reining Night; a book I' writing about a girl named May Petersen who appears in the magical land of Glorsifil. I've said so many times that 'it's almost done', or that 'it WILL be finished this month', or 'it WILL be finished this year' or SOMETHING along those lines, but now at last I'm going to tell the truth:

It will be finished before Christmas for sure, and if we're lucky sometime in October! I'm just waiting for a friend of mine--one of the people I play D&D with--to finish going over it (so if you're reading this, just me, PLEASE HURRY!) and draw a map of Glorsifil (the mythical country I made up for my book to take place in). Then all I have to do is listen to his constructive criticism and fix what I feel like, then read it with my parents, and finally GET IT PUBLISHED! HOORAY!

There's this site called CreateSpace that will allow me to self-publish it for very little money, and I've been researching it for a long time and it seems awesome. I'm really, really excited about getting my book 'out there', and if you care an inkling for the poor girl who has RA known as Galaxy you'll buy a copy! (Please...?)


Time to get started on K.o.D.: a.G.o.L.*!




Galaxy ;-)




*Kings of Darkness: A Glimmer of Light, the second book in my Kings of Darkness cycle.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Happy Birthday, Brother 1!

Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday dear Brother1...
Happy birthday...
To you!

It's Brother1's birthday! He's so happy! I wrote a book called Tish the Fish Who Wanted a Wish and Dear Sister illustrated it, and we're both giving it to him today. I can't wait to see if he likes it!

Maybe I'll post more later, but now I have to get back to my brother.


Galaxy

Monday, August 3, 2009

Bless This Final Day--a Tribute to Anne Boleyn

Hi! It's Galaxy again after an age-long posting break... I'm just not as into blogging as I used to be. Anyways, the reason I'm posting is because I'm obsessed with a certain woman from history called Anne Boleyn.
I'm facinated with her, and I think she was a good person who led a very tragic life from the information I have. I've been searching for a book about her, recently found one (The Lady in the Tower) and decided to write a poem about her sad tale. It's nothing epic, but here, read it and see what you think. Please, please, please comment your opinion!

Bless This Final Day
A Tribute to Anne Boleyn

There was a day,
I loved a man,
Gentle and Kind,
There was a day,
The man loved me,
And swore to be mine,

There was a day,
When Jealous Man,
Took mine away,
There was a day,
When Jealous Man,
Dearest love did He say,

There was a day,
When I was strong,
Before He led me astray,
There was a day,
Before hope was gone,
That I turned Him away,

“Pray find another, if you can,
Leave alone now loveless Anne.”

Accurse that blasted day.

There was a day,
Where I did run,
Away from Court and King,
To country home,
To be alone,
From the Man who so hunts me,

There was a day,
That He held fast,
I was now a newfound task,
And as hard as I would try and plea,
He would not turn from me,

There was a day,
When I gave way,
As He led me astray,
There was a day,
Before hope was gone,
That I accepted His love-say

“Pray, stay, if you can,
Stay with e’er faithful Anne…”

Accurse that blasted day.

There was a day,
When I was His,
But my own love,
I could not give,
There was a day,
I was with He,
For the love He promised me,

There was a day,
When He grew bored,
With the maid I was,
There was a day,
He turned away,
From the one He once dreamed of,

There was a day,
When I was wise,
After He led me astray,
My mind could not wrap around,
That the reason He once could love me,
Then not, could not be found,

“Pray explain, if you can,
Why betray your faithful Anne?”

Accurse that blasted day.

There was a day in my great fury,
I screamed atop my lungs,
There was a day,
When Faithless Man,
Knew he was done,

There was a day,
When Faithless Man,
Found another bride,
There was a day,
When his adultery,
He did no longer hide,

There was a day,
When I could fight,
I tried to win Him out,
There was a day,
He locked me away,
And I could do ought but shout,

“Pray, tell me, if you can,
Why leave your faithful Anne?”

Accurse that blasted day.

There was a day,
That Faithless Man,
Locked me in the Dark,
There was a day,
When I would think,
Of the man who first took my heart…

“Pray, forgive me, if you can,
You still have love from stolen Anne.”

Now is the day,
At last, today,
Of my own last breath,
All I ask is to remember my life,
And pray for my swift death.

Pray for me, if you can,
Pray for your doomed Anne…

Bless this, my final day.


Thanks for reading!


Galaxy

Saturday, April 25, 2009

The Bells

I've always thought I loved poetry. I enjoy writing it, and I had a vision of it in my mind, but when I read some poems from a book called A Little Treasury of Favorite Poems I started to think that maybe I didn't... Until I came by The Bells, by Edgar A. Poe. It's not meaningful, or anything, but it's absolutely cute and rolls of the tongue and tinkles and shines and I absolutely loved it, even though it's a little silly. I thought I'd post it... oh, and if you do try to read it, read it out loud, since it's so much more enjoyable that way.


Hear the sledges with the bells,--
Silver bells--
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells,
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells--
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

Hear the mellow wedding-bells,
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight
From the molten, golden notes!
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats,
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats,
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously well!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells--
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

Hear the alarum bells--
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expolstumlation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping hire, hire, hire,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor,
Now--now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon,
Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale of their terror tells
Of despair!
How they clang, and clash and roar
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear, it fully knows,
By the twanging
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of bells--
Of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells--
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!

Hear the tolling of the bells--
Iron bells--
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats,
Is a groan:
And the people--ah, the people--
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone--
They neither man nor woman--
They are neither brute nor human--
They are Ghouls!
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls a paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And and dances and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells--
Of the bells, bells, bells,
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells--
Of the bells, bells, bells, --
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells, --
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.