The Power of Words

I'm totally brain dead, because I'm in the midst of finals, so I don't have much to say. But I wanted to show you something I thought interesting. Read this phrase and before you read the next part, think what image it gives you. 

A careless man's careful daughter

I'll bet all of you got exactly what this author was referring to. Within those five words, a whole story was laid out in front of you. You got the character of the girl, her motivation and even her fears. I want to learn how to paint a picture with a mere five words. It takes a lot more brain work for me to come up with stuff like this. 

Be thinking about it. 

And an exciting bit of news: I finished my third draft of Dawn and am planning on pitching it to agents in a week and a half. I have a couple more edits to put in, but it's, for the most part, done. AND I only have four chapters left in Lyme-Aid. That one needs major editing before I can submit it. 

And as a last note, the phrase above is from the song Mine by Taylor Swift.

Also, enter here for a Kindle and a bunch of Christian ebooks: http://www.rachelstarrthomson.com/giveaways/kindle-paperwhite-christian-fantasy-books/?lucky=841

Snow day

Ever wish you were stranded at a cabin in the mountains with snow piling up around you with only your computer and nothing better to do than write? That's basically the situation I'm in right now and let me be honest, I haven't gotten any writing done. But I am curled up in an overstuffed easy chair next to the dying embers of a fire we built earlier today, aspiring to write.  Here's a picture outside the window next to me....

I went for a walk and it was higher than my knees in places. Don't ask why I was going for a walk in the storm.

It's such an inspiring atmosphere and everything. So, I've decided to talk on inspiration. I am known to get inspiration from everything. From well-done movies to preschool TV shows to pictures to lyrics to quotes to a single word.

I'm going to tell you my secret to constantly having story inspiration. Take things out of context.

For example, in a preschool TV show called Peep and the Big Wide World there is an episode in which there is a beaver. He's having a ceremony, a coming of age ceremony of sorts, to chew down his first tree. He invites his friends and he's so excited. He doesn't listen to his parent's instructions on how to chew down the tree and begins to gnaw at the trunk. He does it in a non-methodical way and nearly smushes his friends and family. He runs off, discouraged. Hours later, he comes back and offers to try again. His parents don't think he should because of the result of last time. But, he tries again and gets it right. So, take it out of context here. Pretend this character isn't a beaver and that what he's trying to overcome is not a tree. What if it were a person who had tried multiple times to overcome this one thing and when it finally came down to it, and things were at stake and he was the only person available to do it. Everyone told him he shouldn't do it, but he did it anyway and this time succeeded.

So...find little things to be inspired in. Look specifically. Take things out of context and imagine what might happen if it was somewhere else.

Bringing out the Unknown

You're going to Olive Garden. There's a guy at the front who introduces himself as Jake, hands you a menu and shows you to your table. He gives you a smile and leaves. 

Your waitress comes to your table, introduces herself as Clara, gets your drink order and leaves. 

You never see them again. All you classify them as is what you've seen the as. The host. The waitress. All you see of them is that smile they have to wear to keep their job and never remember to think what their lives might be like. That they have a life beyond serving you pasta and salad. 

This is what our job is as writers, right? To show their stories. To take one unknown face in the crowd and elaborate, to show their pasts, their fears, their loves, their family. That's our job. 

Next time you go out, look at people, observe. For writing, but not merely for it. Genuinely ask how they're doing. Listen. Their stories deserve to be noticed. Their stories deserve to be written. They deserve to know that someone notices. 

50$ Amazon Giveaway!

I know I said I wasn't going to post this week, but I found this and figured you'd be interested. Click on this link and you can sign up to win a 50$ Amazon gift card by signing up for Bryan Davis's newsletter. I'd say it's worth it, even if you've never read his books or don't like them. :P I personally haven't read them in forever, and am not entirely what's in them anymore, but I entered anyway. :) If you'd like to participate, here's the link!
--> Click me!!!<--

Endings

Endings are fun and difficult and touchy and all that. Everyone has different advice. Go with your gut. Happy endings aren't realistic. Tragic endings are more realistic, but people generally want happiness in this whole messed up world. Blah blah blah. And I guess it's a mixture of all that. 

Let's start with the obvious: Stories have to have endings. In the words of Ted Naifeh, "I get tired of stories that keep going and going and never get anywhere. It's like a promise that's never fulfilled. Stories need endings. Otherwise, they aren't really stories. Just pages." 

Some people think that endings aren't very important. It's the middle that counts right? But your ending is your last impression on the reader. "Ending's carry a tremendous weight with readers; if they don't like the ending, chances are they'll say they didn't like the work." Nancy Kress

Highlight your character's change.

Ever write an ending after you write the beginning and then get through the book and realize that so much is different from when you first started the book? And you have to completely rewrite the ending because the characters have changed or that thing you planned on happening never really worked out? It's because throughout the writing of your book, you've made promises to your readers. You've dropped hints here and there and you've developed your characters (hopefully:P). You want an ending that will really reflect that change in your character. 

Try and pinpoint your character's flaw. What's the thing they struggle with most? What's the story goal? Try to make your ending contrast the way they used to be and how they've changed over the course of this story. I'm realizing that I'm not quite sure I'm doing that....hmm... I'll have to look into that. I'm going to use Big Hero 6 as an example. Fairly close to the beginning, Hiro wants revenge on his brother's death and that drives his motivation throughout the whole story, even ***SPOILER*** at one point removing Baymax's health chip to destroy the person who killed his brother. He ends up realizing, through a video that Baymax recorded of Tadashii that revenge wasn't the option. In the final battle he defeats the man, but doesn't kill him. He tries to teach the villain the same thing he learned, that revenge isn't the option. "Is this what your daughter would have wanted?" he asks. "This won't change anything. Trust me. I know." ***END SPOILER*** See how that highlights his change? 

Don't make it too perfect

"In real life, endings aren't always neat, whether they're happy endings, or whether they're sad endings." --Stephen King

"You don't reach points in life at which everything is sorted out for us. I believe in endings that should suggest our stories always continue." --Lauren Oliver 

"The world does not have tidy endings. The world does not have neat connections. It's not filled with epiphanies that work perfectly at the moment that you need them." --Dennis Lehane

"I don't necessarily like endings that contrive an artificial moment of completion." --Daniel Clowes 

People like to relate to the characters, and if everything finishes happy-go-lucky, the reader will feel skeptical. Plus, there's still life after the story. This isn't necessarily the end, even if it's the end of this story.

What do you want your readers to be left with? 

Think what the main goal of your story is. What feeling did you want to get across? Do you want your reader sniffing away tears at the end? Do you want them sighing in relief? Do you want them swooning over the romantic couple? Do you want them inspired? Experiment with different endings and see which ones get your feeling across best.

Last lines

Last lines play a big part in the ending. And this section, is, for the most part, intuitive. What sounds right? Play around with it. Here are some good last lines (or a few). All these books left me feeling exactly what the author wanted me feeling. :

Sad ones first:

"He fell to his knees. Hunching over, he covered his head and wept." ~Voice in the Wind by Francine Rivers. 

(This one is also at the end of the first book in the series.)

"Life isn't always filled with sunshine and laughter. I've had my share of heartaches, just like everyone else. And I know that God's plan is to give his peace for those who struggle, even if it takes some time for us to see his plans. And I think that would be a pretty great thing to paint on a sign. In Spanish or not." ~ Chasing Jupiter by Rachel Coker 

It may not seem like it, but trust me. This one's sad. The Spanish part? Read the book and you'll figure it out.

"By this time the soldier was reduced to a mere lump, and when the maid took away the ashes next morning she found him, in the shape of a small tin heart. All that was left of the dancer was her spangle, and that was burned as black as coal." ~The Tin Soldier by Hans Christian Anderson

Not so sad ones:

"He turned out the light and went into Jem's room. He would be there all night, and he would be there when Jem waked up in the morning." ~To Kill a Mockingbird by: Harper Lee

"He rubbed down the goosebumps on his arms and made another promise to himself. Whatever happened, next time he'd do the right thing." ~Code of Silence by Tim LaHaye

Inspirational ones:

"I truly learn
to fly-kick
not to kick anyone
so much as
to fly.
January 31
Tet" ~ Inside out and Back Again by Thanhha Lai  

Happy ending ones:

"Sam picked up his suitcases and let out an excited laugh. I could see his twinkling eyes in the moonlight. 'I suppose you have an awful lot to write in your little notebook.'
I smiled. 'Yes, I suppose I do.'" ~Interrupted by Rachel Coker

Satisfied endings:

"With a burst of brilliant wings and three trails of sparkling fire, the warriors shot into the sky, heading southward, becoming smaller and smaller until finally they were gone, leaving the now peaceful town of Ashton in very capable hands." ~This Present Darkness by Frank E. Peretti  

Suspenseful endings:

"'Tom?'  

'What?' 

'WICKED is good.' 

 And then she was gone." ~Scorch Trials by James Dashner 

Also a series.

In conclusion, here's a great bit of advice for writing: 

Footnote: I'm pushing my blogging habits out to every other week in order to keep up with my other blog and school and stuff. Sorry for all you who are addicted here. ;)  

Character challenge

My little sister drew this book cover for me and I love it. And I figured I'd share it. :) If you can't see, it says, "Once Upon a" in stars and "Fantasy" on the tiles below. It used to have a sticky note on it, cut in a heart that said, "Can I have this dance?" in her cute shaky handwriting, but I don't know where that went. 

Now that that's over, my other younger sister gave me this idea. I don't know who reads this blog, but I'd like to extend this to you too. (If you're a writer, that is. :) 

So, here are rules: 

1. State the names of your a) main character b) sidekick c) random character that you think would be fun to find a picture for. (If you want to add someone else, feel free.) 

2. Find pictures of actors/actresses that would best represent your character, should your book be made into a movie. 

3. Share on your blog. 

4. Comment on this post or email me telling me that you're doing it so I can go check it out. :) 

Here's mine: 

a) My main character's name is Annabelle Greyson and I think that Elle Fanning looks most like her. It actually makes me really happy how much she looks like her. 

Look! She even looks like her as a kid. It's
amazing! 

2. Annabelle's sidekick would be Brenden. The actor that looks most like him would be a younger version of Jason Buckey. I can't seem to find a younger pic of him, so here's a current (ish) picture. 

3) Random character. How about her mom, since I couldn't think of one for her dad or grandparents and those are basically the only other people in this book. (I don't have too many characters...)  Maggie Lawson. 

Have fun and knock yourselves out! 

...

I am so sorry. It was my sister's birthday this weekend (Happy birthday, Ella!) and I'm getting ready for school along with working on learning some songs for the worship team this weekend. Rehearsal is on Thursday, so I kind of need to have them down. It was a last minute hey-can-you-fill-in-for-someone-this-weekend kind of thing. I'm excited and just a little bit nervous, since I've never done this before. So, there are all my lame excuses. :)

And......*drumroll* I think I'm past the writer's block. Yahoo! Yay! And all that. I've got an idea of sort of where I'm going and I'm planning on finishing within the next 10,000 words. I'm itching to print it out and fix all it's plot holes, character inconsistencies, repetition, cliches and who knows what else is wrong with this story. It should come out around 70,000 words.

School starts on the 18th, so I'm hoping to get some writing in before classes slam me.

This song basically personifies what my character is feeling at the moment:

I feel like my life is flashing by and all I can do is watch and cry. I miss the air. I miss my friends...I miss it when life was a party to be thrown but that was a million years ago.
                                                                                   --A Million Years Ago by: Adele

P.S. I'm approaching the black moment, if you didn't figure that out by the song. :)

Nothing much to report

Still haven't gotten past the block from the previous post, so there's not much to say here. I'm going to try a few writing prompts in a notebook my parents gave me for Christmas and a brainstorming technique from James Scott Bell in his book Conflict & Suspense. There are a couple of ideas here that I thought were valuable.

One was to listen to a soundtrack and think of character movements for every beat, instrument and measure.

Another was to imagine your book as a movie. What would the character say next if you were watching this on the screen?


Another, which was more for starting out a new book was to start describing your house. Just describe. Work out to the places around your house. The weird neighbors next door. The park. Etc. Now add a desperate character who's alone and need help and describe it from his/her point of view.

Or start a bunch of first lines. Experiment with dialogue, actions, setting, description, etc. and expand them into paragraphs. That one more applies to a new book as well.

Now, finally, this one's kind of nerdy. Open a dictionary, place your finger on a random word and write a few paragraphs about whatever comes to mind. 

So...yeah. Working on it. Hope I have more to report next week! 

Every time that you wake up breathing. Every night you close your eyes. Every day that your heart keeps beating. There's a purpose for your life. So don't give up. Don't lay down. Just hold on. Don't quit now. Every breath that you take has meaning. You are here for a reason.

--Here for a Reason by: Ashes Remain  

The problem with kidnapping...

I have a perfectly legitimate excuse for not posting this weekend. Christmas celebration Saturday, as well as an after-Christmas sale mall shopping trip. Sunday, church and babysitting for six hour straight. Boom! There you have it. So. I apologize and here I am, posting, albeit a day or two late.

So, this week I let Annabelle's dad "kidnap" her, which isn't as easy as it sounds. When your character never leaves her house and can't barely walk, and the kidnapper isn't actually planning on committing a kidnapping, it's awfully difficult to form a situation in which it actually happens. But, hey, I did it. And now there's the problem of getting her unkidnapped again, which is proposing a whole new set of problems.

Why did I even need to kidnap her in the first place, you might ask? Does this have any sort of relevancy to the basic plot? And, in theory, yes it does. Because through the whole story she's had two main fears. 1) of never getting over Lyme and 2) of her dad finding her. And in every story the character, during the climax, should face his/her greatest fears, correct? So, I'm planning (let's see if it works) to have her face both of those fears simultaneously, hence the reason why I've conducted a kidnapping. (Plus, it happened in the first draft. The one that occurred before I even added Lyme disease in.)

Now my problems are: 1) I can't rescue her too fast, or that part would be useless. 2) I don't know quite what her dad's motivations are (that's always a problem) 3) I want some sort of fairy-tale typical rescue, since that's a reoccurring theme throughout the book 3a) this is sort of a problem since no one knows where she is and she happens to be constantly getting farther away by the moment. Anyone have tips?

In any case, I've started writing this story again after several week's break. Wish me luck!

Nothing much to report...

Still burnt out from NaNoWriMo. So...not much done this week. I finished dating all my previous chapters....wait. That sounded weird. Rephrased: During NaNoWriMo I just started a new page for new chapters. I just finished putting the dates at the top of all of them. I don't know if I've mentioned this already, but I figured that I should put dates at the tops of all the chapters because the story spans two years. That way I don't have to figure out how to integrate a bunch of awkward time transitions. Anyway, that's the extent of my work this week. I'm planning on working on it tomorrow. So excited! I've missed it a lot, as burnt out as I've been.

A couple of random things: 

1. Write This Book by Pseudonymous Bosch is a great writing book. It's simple, but funny and a very creative way to write a "how-to-write" book. 

2. I've designed a few more covers. I'm going to put up a few covers and put another poll on the sidelines. Feel free to vote! 

1. 

2. 

3. 

4. 

5. 

6. 

7. 

8. 

Have fun! 

This'll be short...

As always, right? Well, this time I have a good excuse. I didn't get any writing done this week. Okay, maybe that's not so good of an excuse. I've got an excuse for that too. Finals. Yes, they're finally over and I can now focus on my writing. Wish me luck! Hopefully I'll have more to report next week. :)

Oh, and I've got a passage to share with you. Observe this and find the symbolism. Isn't it good? She talks about, in previous paragraphs, how her sisters were born at extraordinary times and were named things like Celestial Heavens and whatnot, after the times they were born.

There was the day that I arrived. At noon, on a day in September that could have been either spring or autumn, judging by the blueness of the sky. Or by the temperature, which was neither too hot nor too cold. A quiet, peaceful kind of day. The kind that, at its end, makes you wonder where the time has gone. A day that doesn't feel like a gift until it's done. For it’s only as you're drifting off to sleep that you realize how happy you are, how happy you'd been every moment you were awake.
It was on just such a day as this that I was born....My father bestowed a name he had long cherished: Annabelle, after his own mother...Then, mindful of my mother's feelings, he gave me the name of her mother as well. In this way, I became Annabelle Evangeline, and no sooner had my father proclaimed his that my mother... [announced] that she wished me to be known as Belle. I could...have a...name that...would match the Beauty I would surely become.
Allow me to set something straight at this point. There's nothing actually wrong with the way I look. I have long brown hair that generally does what I ask it to, except on very rainy days when it does whatever it wants. I have eyes of a deep chestnut color that are not set too far from each other so that I appear to look over my own shoulder, nor so close that they appear to be trying to catch each other's glance across the bridge of my nose. And there's nothing wrong with my nose, either, thank you very much. In fact, I have a face that is much like the day on which I was born. It contains neither too much of one thing, nor too little of another. A perfectly fine face. Just not an extraordinary face. 

From Belle by Cameron Dokey

Finally Over

Half an hour before December 1st, I am happy to say that I finished my 50,000 words. The book is by no means close to finished and I haven't even reached the climax, but I got a good chunk written of this book. In fact, that's the most I've ever written in a month. I got to know my character better and wrote a bunch of terrible scenes and some good-ish scenes that I may not have gotten by "regular grown-up means." That was an Anne Lamott quote, by the way. :) Between college classes, family obligations and getting behind nearly 6,000 words at the end, I actually got it done. Thank goodness I don't have a job yet. Which I'm seriously considering getting, because of a reason I'll probably post on my normal blog soon, once I've actually have time to post, which I'm hoping will be tomorrow after my exam...and practical.

Now that it's over, though, I'm finding, I lack the motivation to write. Maybe it's because I just wrote fifty-stinkin-thousand words and I'm all worn out. Maybe it's because now I don't have a goal. Maybe it's just because of finals this week. I'm literally taking an exam every other day and studying the days in between. Thus is the reason this is a short post, because I've got to study my butt off for two tests tomorrow. So much fun, right? What every the reason is, I'll overcome it and hopefully by the end of Christmas break, I'll be done. We'll see, though, won't we. Pray for me!

Last race to the end!

I've got my music. I've got my milk and cookies. I've got my candle and I've got my prayers. I'm preparing for my mad dash to the finish line. My sisters have already crossed it and I'm plodding along behind, delayed by such roadblocks as schoolwork, finals, procrastination, writer's block and days when I didn't do any writing.

I'm tired, I'll say that. This story has been exhilarating and exhausting. Oh, it'll need major rewriting. I've developed this habit over the course of the last month of closing my eyes and letting my fingers fly without letting me know what they're typing. So, quite honestly, much of what's happened this month is largely unknown to me. I know for a fact though, that it's terrible. Terrible writing. Generic verbs. Adjectives galore. Whiny characters. Oh, heaven help us! In the words of Anne Lamott:

"The whole thing would be so long and incoherent and hideous that for the rest of the day I'd obsess about getting creamed by a car before I could write a decent second draft. I'd worry that people would read what I'd written and believe the accident had really been a suicide, that I had panicked because my talent was waning and my mind was shot."

I'll fix it though. All bestselling novels began like this. Climax is drawing near. Soon. Soon.

Don't be silly. I have a plot. I just need to
figure out how to execute it in an
 inspiring way. A way that does justice to
 the real story. That's my problem...

I want to put a couple quotes about writing on here, to inspire those of you who are like me and are putting everything in them toward that finish line.

"What one writer can make in the solitude of one room is something no power can easily destroy." --Salman Rushdie

"The goal, I suppose, any fiction writer has, no matter what your subject, is to hit the human heart and the tear ducts and the nape of the neck and to make a person feel something about what the characters are going through  and to experience the moral paradoxes and struggles of being human." --Tim O'Brien

"For a true writer, each book should be a new beginning where he tries again for something that is beyond attainment. He should always try for something that has never been done or that others have tried and failed. Then sometimes, with great luck, he will succeed." --Ernest Hemingway 

"I am not a consecutive writer." --Dr. Seuss

"As a writer, one of the things I've always been interested in doing is actually invading your comfort space. Because that's what we're supposed to do. Get under your skin, and make you react." --Stephen King 

"The writer has to force himself to work. He has to make his own hours and if he doesn't go to his desk at all, there is nobody to scold him." --Roald Dahl

"A writer is someone who can make a riddle out of an answer." --Karl Kraus

"A writer uses a pen instead of a scalpel or blow torch. --Michael Ondaatje

"A writer operates at a peculiar crossroads where time and place and eternity somehow meet. His problem is to find that location." --Flannery O'Connor

"A person is a fool to become a writer. His only compensation is absolute freedom." --Roald Dahl

"Every human being has hundreds of separate people living under his skin. The talent of a writer is his ability to give them their separate names, identities, personalities and have them relate to other characters living with him." --Mel Brooks

"All the writing elements are the same. You need to tell a good story... You've got good characters... People think there's some dramatic difference between writing 'Little Bear' and the 'Hunger Games,' and as a writer, for me, there isn't." --Suzanne Collins

"I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope. Which is what I do, and that enables you to laugh at life's realities." --Dr. Seuss

"To be a dramatic writer takes hard work, talent, and discipline. And that's why I just make up crap." --Colin Mochrie

"You can mope and cry all you want, but it won't help you write a better novel." --Gilbert Blythe 

 

 Come on! Let's do this thing! We can do it. 

So behind

I'm so behind, so this is going to be short, so I can actually write. I'm just about to introduce God into my character's life, because she's getting discouraged and she won't have the strength to carry through the rest of the journey otherwise. So, this will be a lot of fun. I should be at 36,666 words today and I'm at 32,600. Pray that I get in my extra 4,000 words that I need. Wish me luck!

*cringe* this is 3-4 days late

Okay, so I'm the terriblest blogger ever. And yes, I's a writer and I's knows my grammar and my vocabulary, and terriblest is a word. (not really) I think I might be going just a little bit crazy. No seriously. Okay. Maybe not. But crazy people don't know they're crazy. I know I'm crazy, therefore, I'm not crazy. Isn't that crazy. (Jack Sparrow, anyone?)

Don't forget school,
homework and school.
Oh, and wait! School!

Ooooohhhhhh....I'm so tired. Guess what all decided to happen in the month of November. Thanksgiving and...wait for it...finals! Yay, right? Well, in all technicality finals aren't in November, but they are in the first week of December. Or is it the second? I don't know. I'm tired. In any case, I've got to be studying my butt off to make sure I actually pass them. I've got a four page paper due (I know it's not a lot, but I haven't even started on it and it's due next Monday. Heck, I don't even know hardly anything about my subject.) Biology has been taking up all my time. I'm supposed to have memorized 65 muscles by tomorrow. I was supposed to do them at the beginning of the semester and *ahemdon'ttellmyprofessor* I only know about half of them. It's not a problem of where they are. Oh, no that's easy. I've also got to memorize the technical name of where they insert on both ends, some of which have three or four each. And I've got to memorize what they do, which often also have three or four different answers. All that to say, I'm behind on my word count. I'm consistantly 3000-3500 words behind. For example, I have 3500 to get in one day. I do 2000. Okay, so I've got 1500 to do tomorrow. But wait, I've got an extra 1700 to write on top of that. So I'm now at 3200 the next day. It feels like I'm treading water and going nowhere.

Anyone struggle with procrastination?
Ooh, look I haven't blogged this week
like I'm supposed to. *ahem*

You might be able to easily tell I'm in the middle of NaNo. The part where you ramble on for pages on end just to meet your depleted word count. The part where you can't go back and edit, because you'll end up reading all 160 pages before you get to writing and who knows how long that will take. So...forgive me for my rambling.

I diagnosed my character finally. 120 pages into the novel, I finally diagnosed her. I have a feeling that half of my novel is going to have to be removed at the end of NaNo. I'm writing so many pointless scenes. My character also keep repeating herself with I-suppose-es and I-can't-seem-to-s
and I-wish-I-didn't-have-to-blah-s as well as way to many adjectives, -ly words and cliche descriptions like 'good' and 'nice.' It's getting on my nerves quite honestly.

The thing I'm struggling with most is coming up with plot points. In my interview with Bekah, she even told me, "Lyme disease is really boring." Think about it: you've lost mobility and you can't be around a lot of people. You can hardly even move. And that's my problem. I'm having trouble with making a interesting story out of this. B
ecause even if having the disease is boring, your readers can't be. And the story, itself, isn't boring at all, just the little in between parts. Like having to lay in bed for a month watching TV. Every scene is supposed to push your story forward in some way. Laying in bed isn't doing anything for the plot. A lot of it has to be dialogue and inner thoughts.

So, needless to say, this story is hard. I'm hoping to publish it once I'm done, though, so I'm pushing through. Because the point of this story is written to be read. I mean, most stories are, but this one more than others I've written. Because I'm writing it to make a difference and if no one can read it, there's no difference made. So...yeah. It's my battle. And I'm going to fight it bravely. Or maybe not so bravely. :)

Lastly, I need help: My character's dad needs to stalk her and eventually take her. I don't know what his motivation is, though. That's a problem, right? Could she maybe have seen him do something illegal that could send him back to jail so he's trying to make sure she doesn't call the police on him? If so, what could she catch him doing? Ideas anyone?

So, I'll let you go about your day. Pray for my sanity. :P

First week of NaNo

So, first week of NaNo. This was interesting. :) I have 10,600ish words so far. That was a third of my goal for last year. It's been a really up and down first week. 

Midnight, November 1st: lit a candle, made some tea and cranked out 3,000 words. Later that day I got in another 1,000 words in a kickoff party my writer's group had. 

November 2nd: Fairly normal. I had a practical and school, so all of the writing I did, I had to do in the morning. 

November 3rd: Lost my head start. Only wrote 400 words. 

November 4th: Somehow I got 2,000 even though I had school that day. 

November 5th: Got another 2,000 be cause every Thursday our writer's group goes to one of our houses, sits around the table, drinks tea, eats scones or cookies or mini pumpkin pies (those were good) and writes their heart out. 

November 6th: Nothing

November 7th: I've gotten all of 500 words down. 

 This scene I'm writing is absolutely worthless, but if I discard it, I loose everything I did today. Blegh. So not in the writing mood today. Which is kind of weird. I'm being the procrastinator we all know me to be. :) See, I even won a procrastination badge!

I'll give you a sample of my thought process today: 

'Okay. Gonna write.' Opens document. 'Nothing's happening.' Opens NaNoWriMo. 'Maybe I can word war. Okay. Going in at :45.' Writes for fifteen minutes. 'Only 274 words. Seriously? That's the best I can do. This scene is useless. I need to delete it. But it's in my outline, so I can't. Dang. I need a shower. Ooh! I wonder how I can start a thread in the forums. I have something I want to post.' Spends the next forty-five minutes trying to figure it out. Spends fifteen minutes actually posting in the forum. 'Ooh, ooh. There's one of my old books. I'm going to read it.' Reads through the next hundred pages. 'I don't like this part. I need to go clean my room. It's a mess.' Goes upstairs and spends two hours cleaning the room. 'I'm going to organize my PJ bin. It's spilling out all over the place.' Organizes PJ bin. 'Oh, I should probably clean out my closet. Mom and Dad wanted me to bring my hope chest upstairs so it's not in the walkway.' Cleans closet and brings hope chest up. 'I need to do my sheets too.' Strips my sheets and puts them in the wash. Sits down at the computer again. 'I'll try another word war. Just five minutes this time. Going it at :25. This scene is useless, but who cares? Still churning out words. 95 words? That's pathetic. Oh, look there's my blog. And it's Saturday. I need to post.' 

And here you find me. Some how I managed 500 words, though I can't really see how...

Anyway. This story's chugging along. It's not the story it's me. I'm just not in the mood right now. Maybe I will go and take a shower. I'm babysitting in a half hour. I have time. Hmm.... I have an idea. I'll make this productive and brainstorm in the shower. That's an idea. Okay, well, I'm out. Wish me luck!  

 Sort of...

Understand

Sorry for that delay. I think part of my problem for this post is that it's so difficult to put in words what I'm feeling right now. A lot of you writers know this: that words are so inadequate to get a feeling across. But I'll try, so here goes...

I'm sure I'll never quite grasp the pain Bekah had to go through while battling Lyme. But I think I may be beginning to. I've intensively read most of her posts from the time of her diagnosis to the time of her healing and I've been putting my character into her situation. Now those insane writers out there know this, that characters are a part of your heart. Like your baby. Your word baby. So, putting her through this lets me grasp the pain and the heartache it took for Bekah to get through this. I'm drained from simply outlining this story and I haven't even started writing yet. I mean, I don't even know if I'd survive if I were put in her situation.

This is an amazing story and I just hope I end up telling it right. :)

I would suggest going to her blog, here, and reading her story.

National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) starts at midnight tonight and I'm going to bed early (hopefully) and getting up at midnight to write like the wind. I'm ready to get all these stinkin' words out on the page. Wish me luck! :)

I'm going to try and figure out how to post a widget on the sidebar to track my progress as I enter it into NaNoWriMo.

Here's to NaNo!

Can't Kill Me

Pain

I’m gonna fight.

Pills for pain; pills to kill what’s killing me

Pain

I’m gonna fight

Inhaling hurts; exhaling hurts

Pain

I’m gonna fight

Can’t walk; can’t run; can’t barely eat

Pain

I’m gonna fight

I’m taking me back.

I’m gonna fight through the pain

Through the tears

Through the lonely

I’m gonna fight

Because it can’t kill me

Pain

Can’t kill me

Tears

Can’t kill me

Lonely

Can’t kill me

Pills

Can’t kill me

No matter how hard they try

Courage through pain

Finding me

Copyrighted to Hannah De

I'm so sorry

I'm so sorry, everyone. I was supposed to post Saturday and I swear, I did try. I sat down twice to do it and got interrupted or...ahem...distracted. I'll try to post after my exam on Wednesday. Should be a slight rest after that!

Update: I'm just waiting until Saturday. I've got things to do. :) And it's so close. Until then!

Sunsets and Fairytales: Guest post by Annabelle Greyson

I used to watch the sun set over the mountains from the window of my dad's bedroom. It was the only room that had a window that faced the mountains. I knew he would explode if he found me there, but I couldn't help the hope that rose up in me when I watched the colors undulate across the ridge. I'd watch until that last piece of sun sunk behind the stones on top of the mountains. It was magical. I wondered if somewhere out in that vast expanse of forest and rocks, was a prince charming out there who would save me. I'd go over in my mind what princess I'd be. It grounded me to repeat the procedure in my mind. It was something familiar. 

Sleeping Beauty was surrounded by a brier of thorns to keep out of evil. What would I have given for that kind of protection. 

Snow White was kind to everyone. I'd never been given the chance to be kind to everyone. No one was ever kind to me. Dad told me I was disobedient and in my mind that was the opposite of kind, so that discounted Snow White. 

Cinderella's father died. As cruel and gruesome as it sounded, I used to wish I had that kind of luck. 

Belle's father loved her. And she loved him. The only similarity was the dead mother. I used to fantasize that maybe I could be Belle, since our names are similar. Annabelle and Belle. It made sense. But all too soon, I realized that my life was nothing like Belle's. Plus, she was beautiful, and all I heard every day was that I was ugly. 

I wished I had the courage to be the mermaid who ran away from her father and found the love of her life. She was who I aspired to, but never really thought I'd become. 

Rapunzel was the one I finally settled on every time. Because Rapunzel was trapped. Because Rapunzel had no way out of her life. And maybe someday I would get my wish. Maybe someday a prince would come and fall in love with me and rescue me. 

Sometimes I still do that, watch the mountains, while I'm too sick to move. I pull the hope out of that sight, even if I don't know where that hope comes from. I repeat the procedure in my mind. In some ways I still am trapped, but someone once told me to focus on the future and not dwell on the fact that I can't walk and that my Lyme keeps me from doing most things. I think of things I'm thankful for: 

- inspiration to write

- Brenden - my prince :) 

- my mom

- church - even if I don't believe in God yet, that place always gives me peace when my anxiety gets the better of me. 

- blogging

- fairy tales

I make the list longer and longer and push out the things that make me panic. It's going to be okay. 

 Brenden gave me a plaques saying this for Christmas one year and I hold onto it... Never too late.

This life would kill me if I didn't have you. Couldn't live without you, baby. Wouldn't want to.                                                                                                                                                                                        If I didn't have You by: Thompson Square

~ Annabelle Greyson

Note: These ideas are copyrighted to Hannah De. Thanks!

Spoons...

Spoons? Well...that doesn't make sense, does it? Spoons... You're probably trying to follow my train of thought and are thinking I've finally gone batty. (Well, maybe I have a little, but that's beside the point.) This spoon thing I'm talking about is totally legitimate. 

Here's the link, since it says at the end that I'm not allowed to replicate it or anything of the sort: http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/wpress/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/

Read it. Lyme disease is one of those chronic illnesses where this is relevant. It accurately depicts the strength required for those chronically ill.

Same status on Lyme-Aid: Once Upon a Fantasy as I have decided to call it unless a better suggestion rides past my brain. Still working on an outline and filling in spots between my known scenes.

And the hardest part was letting go. Not taking part was the hardest part...I could feel it go down, bittersweet. I could taste in my mouth, silver lining the cloud...I wish that I could work it out... Everything I do, it's just come undone. And everything is torn apart.                                                                                              -The Hardest Part by: Coldplay 

P.S. I'll have you know this was published on Saturday. Two minutes before midnight. :)

Book covers

Swing left. Swing right. Bruised and black-eyed. Half alive. Bleeding. Choking. But not broken inside. Somehow through it all I'll stand still undefeated...You can knock me down with body blows, but you cannot break my hope.                                                                                                                                                          ~Undefeated by: Daughtry 

I'm working on an outline for this story at the moment. My mom bought Scrivener, so...yay! I'm preparing for NaNoWriMo. I'm going to attempt to do the 50,000 word goal, which will only work if I can't get stuck. Thus, the outline. Last year I wrote half that, so....yeah. We'll see how that goes with college and all. Wish me luck.

I don't have a ton to post on, since I haven't had a lot of time to write. :'( Sometimes I don't like growing up.

A thought, before I go: One thing I've been noticing about writing this book is the power of names. The lies my character believes are solely based on names she's been called in her past. People tend to slap a word on your forehead before they've even met you. Everyone has been called a name. Whether it be good or bad. It affects the way we think about ourselves.

I'm going to post a bunch of book covers and you can vote on which ones you like in a poll I'll put to the side. I know a lot of them are the same-ish. Comment and tell me why you picked which ones you picked. :)

1. 

2. 

3. 

4. 

5. 

6. 

No post

Okay, so REALLY sorry about no post. I never got around to it on the weekends and now I'm working my butt off to study for an exam I have tomorrow, so...I'll post next Saturday or Sunday. Super sorry.

Guest Post from Annabelle Grayson

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Annabelle. She was born out of wedlock and although her parents stayed together for the first few years of her life, she always had a sense of not belonging. Like she wasn't supposed to be on this earth. It didn't help that her parents fought constantly. Over her father's drinking problem. Over the fact that her mother was attending college, even though both of them knew they didn't have the money. Over Annabelle - what school she'd go to when she was old enough, what she should be when she grew up, who would get her when her mother finally made good on her threat and left. And it wasn't as if both of them wanted her. Neither of them wanted the burden of a five-year-old girl as they continued on with their respective lives.

Her mother finally left, leaving Annabelle with an angry, alcoholic father. Although he had never expressed violence, the anger of his girlfriend leaving him pushed him into worse and he began to beat her. Sometimes it would be days between beatings, and other times he would hit her twice in a day. There would be days he hit her so hard she threw up. There would be days she had to call someone to take her to the hospital because he broke something inside her. There would be days when she didn't think she was going to make it.

She began to panic. Every time she thought of him, her heart rate would speed, the room would close and she would begin to cry. Every time he opened the door and slurred her name. Every time someone asked her about her family. She didn't dare tell anyone what was happening. She didn't want to discover what he would do to her if she turned him in.

It was a teacher who gave her the idea. She made an offhand comment of how stories helped some people process life. And Annabelle wondered if that would change the panic attacks she kept having. Her only real example of stories was a collection of old fairy tales her mother had left, so she began to make up her own, making herself the princess, her problems the dragons and her life an enchanted fairy-world where she could invent princes and fairy-godmothers to save her from whatever means she invented.

She made her princess-self the opposite of the names her father called her, names she knew were true. The princess wasn't worthless or ugly or a coward. She was a beautiful, brave girl who could do whatever she put her mind to.

And it worked. She stopped panicking. Her problems were manageable.

She was nine before anything happened. Her rescue came in the form of her new neighbor, a middle-aged man, who was the first one to care about the screaming and shouting he heard from the run-down apartment. He pulled Annabelle aside on her way to school and asked her if everything was okay at home. Annabelle hesitated, remembering the way her father threatened her on the subject of getting help. He would never need to know it was her though. There wasn't any way he could hurt her if he was arrested. So she told the man and whispered for him to please call the police, but to not breathe a word about getting the information from her.

She was pulled out of school early by two police officers and her father was arrested that afternoon. But right before he was shoved into the police car he gave her a look that said that he wasn't done with her and that he would get her back no matter what. The authorities found her mother and Annabelle moved in with her.

So, this part of my story really isn't worth telling, but the author of my story wanted me to write a post concerning my backstory. And don't worry. There's more. And there's hope in the end. It wasn't easy writing this. That's why it's in fairy tale format. It's still the only way I can handle things. Even now, seven years after his arrest. Sorry about that. Feel free to comment.

~Annabelle Greyson

Author's note: All the ideas here are copyrighted to Hannah De

Lime-Aid

I don't have a ton to update on. Once Upon a Fantasy is at 7,000 words at the moment. I'm not much further in the story then I was last week when I posted. College and all that. :)

Okay, I need an opinion. Emma suggested changing the name to Lime-Aid or maybe Lyme-Aid. What do you think?

And, since, once again I don't have much to post, I'm going to post the lyrics to a song that totally personifies this story.

Losing friends and I'm chasing sleep. Everybody's worried about me. In too deep...I'm in too deep. It's been two years and I miss my home. There's a fire burning in my bones. I still believe...All those words I didn't say. The wrecking balls inside my brain. I will scream them loud tonight. Can you hear my voice this time?... This is my fight song. Take-back-my-life song. Prove-I'm-alright song. My power's turned on. Starting right now I'll be strong. I'll play my fight song. And I don't really care if nobody else believes. Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me.                                                                                                                                                                      ~Fight Song by: Rachel Platten 

Dancing

So, I'm on chapter six of this crazy rewrite and loving it all the more. Just about to get to the part where Annabelle gets worse all the sudden. I'm loving this book so much more than any of my other books, so...that's good, right?

Also, good news: I got permission to use all the unique parts of Bekah's story. So it'll be a halfway based-on-a-true-story story with those little unique details.

Since everything is going smoothly and as planned, I don't have a lot to say. So, I'm going to leave you with a poem my character wrote.

I Just Want to Dance by: Annabelle Greyson

My knees give way
My legs are weak
Will you hold me?
Can you help me through?

Because although
my body protests,
I just
want to
dance.

First person

Okay, so sorry for missing yesterday. Apologies all over the place.

That said, let's get to the point. An update:

I haven't written all that much this week, due to growing up and having to do college and all that. Sometimes growing up stinks because you don't always have time to do things you love the most. But, I did get a little smidgen of writing done on Once Upon a Fantasy and, after reading three first person stories in a row and doing an interview with Brenden (last week's post), I've decided that I think I like the story better in first person present. So, starting to revise all 20,000 words...yeah, it's taking a little time. But I'm enjoying it, because I love Annabelle so much better now. And plus, like I said in an earlier post, I realized that I have a whole bunch to add about Lyme that I was starting to think I couldn't do without a rewrite. So...here we go!

What's your favorite POV to write in? Tense? 

And...will you judge and tell me which is better, before I do the whole story this way. :)

New: 

            Sometimes I wish I could disappear.

            Sometimes I wish I could cry without looking like a cowardly idiot.

            Always I wish I didn’t have my life.

            I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach by Dad, something he used to do frequently before he was arrested. I can’t breathe. I may as well have been running a mile, that’s how my voice comes out. “But he wasn’t supposed to be released until—”

            “I know,” Mom interrupts, covering my shaking hands. “They released him early. It shouldn’t be a problem.” She makes an effort to meet my eyes. I refuse to look at her.

            “He hates me.” My voice cracks a bit. I’m not going to cry.

            Mom pats my hands. “It’ll be okay, Annabelle. We’ll stay away from him and he’ll stay away from us. We have a restraining order. The police are protecting us. We’ll be okay.”

            I swallow against my closing throat. “You don’t understand.”

            “You’re perfectly safe, sweetheart.” She stands and grabs her briefcase from the tabletop. “I’m late for work. I’ll see you tonight, don’t worry about this. I love you.” She kisses my cheek and leaves me at the table, completely wrecked.

Original: 

            “Honey...your dad is...has been released from jail.” Mom made an obvious effort to meet Annabelle's eyes.
            Annabelle felt like she'd been punched in the stomach by Dad, something he used to do frequently before he was arrested. She couldn't breathe properly. She may as well have been running for a mile, that’s how her voice came out. “But he wasn’t supposed to be released until-”

            “I know,” she interrupted, setting the phone on the table and covered Annabelle's shaking hands. “They released him early. It shouldn't be a problem,” she said softly. The kitchen light cast shadows on her face.

            She wanted to cry. But she couldn't. Not here. “He hates me.” Her voice cracked a bit. She wasn't going to cry.
            Mom patted her hands. “It'll be okay, sweetheart. We'll stay away from him and he'll stay away from us. We have a restraining order. The police are protecting us. We'll be okay.”
            Annabelle swallowed against her closing throat. “You don't understand.”
            “You're perfectly safe, Annabelle.” She stood and grabbed her briefcase from the tabletop. “I'm late for work. I'll see you tonight. Don't worry about this. I love you.” She kissed Annabelle's cheek and left her at the table, feeling shell-shocked.