New Beginnings

Yesterday I spent remembering and celebrating the old year. Today, I'm making plans for the new one. College starts up in a week or so and I'll have to get back on an actually-go-to-bed and then wake-up-early schedule again. That will be an adventure, all right :D

As for resolutions, I've decided to read every day, write ever day, practice music/voice/German every day, and draw everyday. I want to get in shape. I miss being strong. I could pick my mom up when I was twelve XD Also, I must finish a draft of one of my stories. ANY of them. Just get it done. To list, the more serious and likely to be completed of my literary endeavors include Imperfect, a novella about an angel who falls in a guy's back yard, Kings of Darkness, where a jock "detective" is thrown in the midst of a massive power struggle in a fantasy world, That Story with Esme and Faun (unnamed as of yet), involving a quiet, clever gypsy and his sunny reckless sister in their chase to save his soul, and Shattered, a twisty turny retelling of Snow White spanning over a decade. I've seriously slacked in my writing. It's depressing.

This is a new year. It's an invisible stake we can put in the ground. It's where we can say: "I'll be better this time around." A better person, better at whatever things you treasure, better at learning, and better at being. And BBC's Sherlock is on today! I have been waiting so long for that :B

Huzzah, you all! Happy new year. Make it something special, 'cause you deserve it :3

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)

Red Lips

I use burny lipstick yesterday, the kind that stings and stains your lips, because it looked just perfect for the character I was playing that Halloween. But it WON'T COME OFF. It's really weird, heheh, because I hardly ever wear makeup at all, and now I'm walking around with these bright red lips and no mascara or anything XD

I promise, pics are coming - pics of Dear Sister, myself, and Brothers 1&2. Before the end of the year at the latest.

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.

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.

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!

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.

Old Posts

GAH I was just reading some of my older posts and I cringed. I wish I could go back and rewrite half of them. I feel like my writing has grown immensely since then and I am so glad I decided to start posting on here once more (mostly thanks to Mommy, who suggested I only check the forums I'm addicted to after I post. Hey! I should post about those sometime!), if only so I don't leave my Galaxy with only that to show.

Funny thing is that way back when I thought I was a great writer, so it's a little silly for me to feel so apprehensive about what I wrote now. I used WAAAAAAAAAAAAY too many ellipses so I'm trying to make a point not to use any nowadays if I can help it. Now, however, I'm using a ton of commas and - these really cool dash things - to add emphasis. And lots of italics, heheh.

So, as for new posts, I plan to talk about my latest obsession Orderly Chaos, why I decided to totally rewrite Kings of Darkness, swoon about my new favorite food ever, and moan about how I don't know what I'm going to be for Halloween. Stay tuned!

I am an ARTIST

See, I would NEVER have dreamed to use the word 'artist' and the word 'me', 'I', or 'Galaxy' in the same sentence without being preceded by a negative. I was horrible. Utterly, completely, horrible.

And theeeeeeeeeeeeen Mr. Teatime, a childish sociopath from the discworld book and movie Hogfather, invaded my mind. Suddenly my brain was singing Draw him! Draw him! Draw him!

And, well, I tried to draw him. I started with anime since that's a pretty simple drawing technique I thought I could understand and catch on to with relative ease. I was never really happy with any of them and I think Brother1 and 2 destroyed all my sad attempts eventually, since I didn't put them anywhere safe (idiotic of me, I know). But I didn't really care.

And then, world be praised, I found devaintART. All these beautiful drawings I could use for reference! A bazillion pictures to search through and adore! A community of artists to share with and get tips from! *sighs* That was the coming of the beginning of the twist*.

Then I just sketched off someone else's Teatime drawing. And then I tried drawing an original character that had been running around in my head singing 'draw me' as well in a similar style. After that I was hooked - Daddy said I was drawing 24/7. And I almost was. If we were watching a movie, I was drawing. If I was lying in bed trying to sleep, I was drawing. If I was sitting in the living room thinking, I was drawing. If I was browsing the internet - I was drawing. You get my drift, I think.

Throughout all this mad artistry, I’ve been slowly developing my own style. And really, I still am. But now my art is rather different from most others. One day I want to draw realistically, in body shots and face works, but that’s going to take me a while – so I’m starting here, with a more cartoony approach. Recently I've been trying a more realistic style with only faces, and that's manifested in the few pictures just below these huge blocks of text. People say that approach suits me, so I'll probably be drawing a lot more of it. It’s also really really fun XD

And NOW. NOW at long last I can call myself an artist. I've worked hard for that. I'm just amazed at how I went from a horrible wannabe who HATED to draw, to an okay beginner who loves it with a passion in only a few months. And, unlike most my other obsessions, this has yet to fade away. I'm glad for that.

And that's my attempt at posting something interesting. I hope it was ;-)

*Sorry. Song line. Had to use it. SUCH A COOL SONG.


Phoenix Shifter, the farmgirl firegirl. I think I posted this pic already.

My attempt at drawing Dear Sister. Her jaw is way too far forwards and she looks much older than she actually does, but I can see the Her in this.



Cassandra Larimar, belonging to one Octironstar. Cass is a discworld original character, vampress, alchemist, and bipolar loony with good intentions and a caring heart.



Another one of those loonies. Lucia von Heidegger, belonging to me and Candyexorcist. She was a queen who went mad with the death of her husband and resorted to abdicating her throne and locking herself in a tower to perform sorcery far away. She is bold, brave, wise, snappy, tempermental, and very regal. Her curls drove me mad.

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.

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 ;-)

I can draw now!

...In that my drawings aren't horrible failures anymore. I'm actually okay, I think. Do you know what it took? (you'll hate me:) PRACTICE PRACTICE PRACTICE. And more practicing like crazy. Daddy said I was drawing 24/7 at one point.

Here are a couple sketches (some old, some new) that I'm rather happy with:

This is Phoenix Shifter. She's a spunky sweet countrygirl that can spout fire at will.

That's Chibi Dear Sister and me. Chibi is a cutesy style I use when I'm lazy.

This is Phoenix again. I kind of gave up when I got to the collarbone.

This one is a bit awkward, but I like it nevertheless. She's Aletheia Pierce, a gypsy daughter of Hermes (Ancient Greek God of anything that travels the road - diplomats, thieves, tricksters, thieves, merchants, THIEVES... et cetera.).

Again, Aletheia. Only now she's with her father.

---

So I've got tons more where that came from. But these are just a few of the ones that I can look at without screaming in horror. Thanks for checking 'em out, and do comment!

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!

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

Curly! and Cut!

First, this post is a (alert! Alert!) !girly post! so, all you boys who read my blog BEWARE! Also, this post will be in deep contrast to my last one because today I'm chipper and high.

I have always been very, very proud of my near three-foot long hair; I say it's auburn, but it really doesn't have much red in it, so I suppose I am a brunette. Anyhow, my pride for my super-long hair probably comes from when I was a little girl, and I desperately wanted curly, long, blond hair, just like those fairy princesses. It made me so sad to see my straight, dull, short hair every time I looked in the mirror. One day, though, someone said (after I told her about how much I wanted something else) that she thought my hair was pretty. That set me thinking: this is my hair, it's part of who I am, it's how I started. So I can either hate it, or love it. I decided to love it, and take pride in it.

Of course, I never lost all of my fairy princess longings, which is why I grew my hair extra, extra long. It made me different from everyone else (not that homeschooling and being vegan doesn't, but most the people I hang out with are homeschoolers, and what you eat doesn't signify who you are quite like the way you choose to style your hair) and that made me happy. So, as I said in the second paragraph, I am very, very proud of my very long hair.

Why on Earth I decided to cut it, I'll never know... but I'm happy I did.

My hair is a 'normal' length now, and I suppose I don't like that about it, but it's cute, easier to manage and brush, and mom thinks it looks nicer... and I guess I sort of do too. I'll never dye my hair, or at least that's what I say now, but it is fun to curl it now and then, so, today and yesterday, because my hair isn't three feel long anymore, I was able to curl it, and both Mommy and Dad said it was cute! I mean, Mom saying that is awesome, but Dad... it's not like he never compliments me, but when it comes to 'girl stuff' (like hair, clothes, make-up--WHICH I DO NOT WEAR!!!) he's useless. It takes fifteen to twenty minutes for the results I like, but it's not so hard and I kind of like it. Sure, I'll wear it straight most of the time, but while I want to, I think I'll have it curly ;-)

Now for the part you've all been waiting for: The BOY RANT!

How is it I can cut near a foot off my hair, from lower than my waist to just at my chest level and they can't notice? These guys have seen me every week for years to film, play D&D and all sorts of things, yet they can't notice such a drastic change? Mom says she's died her hair from blond to red to bleach white and the guys she's known haven't noticed, and, I think I can see that happening. What is so different about their minds?

Then, I suppose I can't complain, because Daddy's cords and cables will always be a mystery to me. Aw well, I guess boys and girls are just different. And that, if you ask me, is a good thing.

The scary thing was when Brother1 came out of his room after getting dressed saying 'Does this shirt go with these pants?'; it did. And then there was that time he said black 'went with' some other color (can't remember which, sorry, but it did). I guess boys turn out a little... different with two older sisters.

Oh, and on the note of guys and girls: guys can read smaller print, but girls can hear better.

So, there you go! A post about hair, fairy princesses, accepting one's self and the battle of the sexes all in one. Just goes to show you how far my mind can wander.

Galaxy ;-)

Capturing Santa--BETTER QUALITY!

Just what everyone has been waiting for--Capturing Santa in better quality!!! (see this post)




I now have a youtube account (after quite a while of considering it) and I was able to post this there. I'll be known as 'SheWhoShines' there since someone else stole 'Galaxy'. I know, it's not fair(here's where I pout).

Anyhow, here's the link to my under-construction-account... I'm still trying to figure youtube out, so it won't be very good until later, if even then. I'm not sure if I should call my 'channel' "Where Light Falls" or "Happy Thoughts"... you know what, I'll make a poll! If you have any better ideas please comment on this post!

http://www.youtube.com/SheWhoShines#p/a





Galaxy

Friday Fillins #48

Hi everyone--it's time for Friday Fillins! If you'd like to do your own, go to this link (or use the one on my side-bar), copy the latest post and fill in the blanks.

1. So are we going to try?
2. A good dream is what I see now, a true and great reality is what's up ahead--what I may create.
3. I love to make people smile... sometimes it's as simple as smiling myself.
4. I am a optimist, of some sort.
5. I walk a long, lovely path that I wouldn't trade for any other.
6. Happiness is the true elixir of life--no matter how long you may live, life isn't worth living without it!
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to SLEEPING--I am super tired, tomorrow my plans include perhaps finishing building an awning outside (or at least watching Brother1&2 while my parents do so), and Sunday, I want to do something fun!

Have a wonderful weekend!


Galaxy

Harps

I started writing another book that had to do with a harp, so I looked up 'harp' on youtube to see how it sounded. Now I'm obsessed with them. They're just so... so pure, clear, lovely... it sounds like so many instruments, so whole... Here are some of my favorite youtube videos I've found having to do with harps:











I just love how the harpists' fingers look like they're dancing... I love how their hands move like a ballerina's. I love how each string echoes eerily, lovely, magically... This is the first instrument I have heard to rival the violin--to me, at least. I love it.

Unfortunately, harps are really expensive, and where are you supposed to find someone to teach you? I probably wouldn't stick with it anyways. Look what happened with piano (of course, my instructor did die, so I suppose it wasn't entirely my fault).

Galaxy

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.