FINISHED!

Ladies and gents, The Shadow Conspiracy, my NaNo novel, was officially finished yesterday at roughly 111k words and 265 pages.

Woo! I'm excited. This is the first novel that I have finished that I intend to do something with. :) This means it's time to go through the editing process.....and we'll start with changes of backstories and the title --- for as I found out, the title has next to nothing to do with the book itself. xD

For those who have completed a novel and edited it successfully, what are your tips for getting through it without having a mental breakdown? I'll need all the help I can get :)

The Mental Closet

A random snippet. :)

The first man leapt at the other, fists flying, while the second man fell on his back and kicked the first in the chest. Since the prisoners were all chained together, this caused a great pileup and commotion, and soon nearly everyone was hitting and spitting and kicking each other in a rage. Santiago was silently relieved that he was not chained with the rest and merely had a guard over his back.

                This guard, and all the others, however, forgot all about him in the chaos. While they poked and prodded and shouted themselves hoarse trying to get everything in order again, Santiago saw his chance and slipped away into an alley nearby. Immediately, keeping to the shadows, he began sneaking towards the sounds of the fighting, knowing as soon as the guards got things in order again, they would notice his absence.

                A small part of his brain tried to reason with the rest of him, listing the risks and dangers and why he should return to the safety of the guards. But he was only a child after all, though he readily denied it, and a curious, impulsive one at that. Santiago pushed that logical part of him deep inside a closet in his mind and locked it away.

                “I have no time for that sort of thing,” he muttered to himself determinedly. “I must press on and find my family!”

                He did not say which family member he was talking about, for truly he did not know. His first instinct was to find his father, but his second one, equally as strong, was to find his sisters. The part of him that he had locked away screamed from the mental closet that he was wrong, that he should turn back, that he should look for neither party and should just consider himself.

                If only he had listened.

                                

Death Scenes {and 100k}

I hit 100k words in my novel, The Shadow Conspiracy! Yes! All I have left to do now is kill characters.....

Which leads me to the reason I'm posting: death scenes. What are y'all's tips and tricks for writing emotional, heart-wrenching death scenes? And I have a lot of them to do, so give me all you've got :)

Also, while researching  I found this helpful post on writing realistic death scenes. You should check it out.

http://rachelbrookswrites.blogspot.com/2011/09/writing-realistic-death-scenes.html

The Day the Saucers Came

A funny, whimsical sort of poem by Neil Gaiman. I think this has to be one of my favorite poems. :)

That day, the saucers landed.
Hundreds of them, golden,

Silent, coming down from the sky like great snowflakes,

And the people of Earth stood and stared as they descended,

Waiting, dry-mouthed to find what waited inside for us

And none of us knowing if we would be here tomorrow

But you didn't notice it because

That day, the day the saucers came, by some coincidence,

Was the day that the graves gave up their dead

And the zombies pushed up through soft earth

or erupted, shambling and dull-eyed, unstoppable,

Came towards us, the living, and we screamed and ran,

But you did not notice this because

On the saucer day, which was the zombie day, it was

Ragnarok also, and the television screens showed us

A ship built of dead-man's nails, a serpent, a wolf,

All bigger than the mind could hold, and the cameraman could

Not get far enough away, and then the Gods came out

But you did not see them coming because

On the saucer-zombie-battling gods day the floodgates broke

And each of us was engulfed by genies and sprites

Offering us wishes and wonders and eternities

And charm and cleverness and true brave hearts and pots of gold

While giants feefofummed across the land, and killer bees,

But you had no idea of any of this because

That day, the saucer day the zombie day

The Ragnarok and fairies day, the day the great winds came

And snows, and the cities turned to crystal, the day

All plants died, plastics dissolved, the day the

Computers turned, the screens telling us we would obey, the day

Angels, drunk and muddled, stumbled from the bars,

And all the bells of London were sounded, the day

Animals spoke to us in Assyrian, the Yeti day,

The fluttering capes and arrival of the Time Machine day,

You didn't notice any of this because

you were sitting in your room, not doing anything

not even reading, not really, just

looking at your telephone,

wondering if I was going to call.

Just thought I'd share that with all you lovely people as an apology for not posting as much as I should have. (:

Oz the Great and Powerful

"I don't want to die ... I haven't accomplished anything yet!"

Oscar Diggs is a carnival magician with a smooth tongue and plenty of tricks up his sleeve. He does not want to be a good man --- he wants to be a great one, and he's willing to swindle, charm, and use people and break ladies' hearts to get there. 

After one not-so-successful performance, he (in essence) steals a hot air balloon to get away from some other displeased performers, and gets more than he bargained for when a tornado sweeps his hot air balloon off to never never land.

Overall, it was very well done. As far as prequels go, it didn't flop. It did its job, and did it very well --- providing backstory for the characters from The Wizard of Oz. The cinematography was excellent. In my opinion this movie totally redefines the world of Oz and completely changes your view of the original Oz movie. In a good way. It kept me on the edge of my seat, and I was laughing way more than I thought I would.

What really made this movie as enjoyable as it was was the characters. They each had their own history and you can't help but get drawn in. Other movies focus on the action or plot, but this film focused mostly on the characters, and I think that's what made it successful as a prequel. They "cast a spell" over you, making you become emotionally attached to them. Mostly the three witches, Glinda, Evanora, and Theodora. (Gotta love the names.) The acting for these three was excellent, especially for Theodora --- she had more depth than the others, I think. I can feel character inspiration coming on now :-)

Oscar Diggs being who he is (a flirt) there was more romance, and more broken hearts, than I expected in this film. It fit in okay as far as his character goes, but it's still there and ... well, it doesn't make you like Oz very much. \It can be kind of funny at times, however.

The language in this movie was relatively clean, only two uses of d**n, and awkwardly placed in the same scene. I saw no real problems with this movie  --- after all, it was targeted towards families. I do think, though, that kids younger than 8 shouldn't see it. It was intense at times, but not extreme enough for it to get a PG-13 rating.

I really enjoyed it. It's not on the same scale as ... The Avengers, perhaps, but it definitely is a wonderful adventure that I enjoyed watching, and I can't wait till it comes out on DVD so I can experience it again. :) It's full of suspense, humor, and an element that, well, kept me from being bored and keeps me from thinking about anything else! 

Out of 5 stars, I would give it a 4. I recommend this to any fantasy or Oz loving geeks, or anyone else for that matter. It snatches and captures the attention of all ages. In short: I loved it.

Starring James Franco, Mila Kunis, Michelle Williams, and Rachel Weisz :: directed by Sam Raimi :: rated PG :: a Disney movie (:

Sophie

Am I a horrible blogger or what? :)

*ahem* anyway.

Yes yes yes yes.

Well. Sophie. If I had to pick one word to describe her, it would be spunky. She has a mouth, and she's not afraid to use it, on anyone --- her sisters, a guard, the head of the rebellion, no matter. 

You would think with her proper upbringing she would have the best manners out of the group, but nooo. She is the most obnoxious one there, and the most oblivious. Sierra and Skylar both grew up surrounded by the harsh reality of their world, but Sophie was sheltered from all that. She was the daughter (or so she thought) of a nobleman and his wife. She was wealthy, pretty, and well educated. She had never set foot in Lower East Side or even seen a resident there. Though she was curious, her parents had abruptly changed conversation whenever it wound its way even remotely near Lower East Side. She's never been allowed to play, run, or do anything except manners. 

She likes the arts, especially acting and painting. She grew up taking theater and art lessons, and sure enough, they paid off in the end (at least theater did). Not telling you how, though. :)

After discovering that her whole life is a lie, that she really isn't the daughter of Clara and William Carnes, and that she is one of three triplets, she determinedly sets off (accompanied by Skylar) to find her true parents and other sibling. This leads to all sorts of adventures with her mouth and tendency to jump head first into things without thinking them through getting her in lots of trouble. 

She is the funniest one in the group (in my opinion) and she hates for things to get too serious. She's always the one to try and brighten up the situation with a joke or a quip, and has firmly decided that the best way to handle a problem is to look like you know exactly what you're doing and that everything is going according to plan, even when it's not. 

She calls herself half and half --- half tomboy, half girly girl. 

Character Inspiration:

• Me, actually (: Sophie is like me in multiple ways. I think that's why she's my favorite. (Don't tell the others) ;)
• Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice

As a sidenote that relates in no way to what I was talking about - have any of you seen/heard of Dance Moms? It's a show about a bunch of little, darling, AMAZING dancers, their harsh teacher (harsh is an understatement), and their gossipy moms, and it's filmed near where I live. I don't really watch it that often (I only watch the dances mostly when I do turn it on) but I saw this picture and wanted to post it for your amusement. 

Hahaha....the Ziegler girls are adorable. (:

Sierra

Continuing in my post of characters, which I took a break from briefly while I got over a bout of writer's block. -.-

With darker hair and more vivid eyes, that picture would be nearly perfect. Nearly.

Sierra is not unlike Skylar in the fact that she had a rough childhood. She was raised in an orphanage ... no, who am I kidding. She raised herself, in an orphanage. The caretaker, Mrs. Chesterfield, hated her from practically the moment she laid eyes on Sierra, and this caretaker would do anything to get Sierra out from under her skin --- so, ever since Sierra was eight, she had been sleeping by herself up in the various catwalks of the mansion-turned-orphanage instead of with the other girls in the girls dormitory.

She was looked upon as the "leader" of the girls dormitory, and this gave her great responsibilities, such as feeding the children, since Mrs. Chesterfield didn't, not really --- one meal large enough for one person, hidden in a bag and then hidden in the orphanage somewhere, creating a huge game of hide and seek, the winner getting to eat and the losers starving for that day. If you keep not finding food for weeks on end? Nobody cares, except Sierra and the "leader" of the boys dorm, Branton.

Then she leaves, blah blah blah --- you'll probably hear about it later. Probably.

She loves kids. Obviously. She was a mom to a bunch ever since she moved up to that catwalk. She wants to grow up, get married, and start a family of her own, but she's afraid to in the world she lives in. 

Ever since she was little, she wanted a mom, dad, or sibling --- someone to prove she was not alone. When she heard that there might possibly be others, she made sure everyone was okay then left to find them. Because of this, her sisters are her most precious possessions. She wouldn't lose any of them for the world.

She's sensible, practical, and light on her feet, though trying to do any delicate work like lock picking will end badly --- she's kind of clumsy when it comes to tiny things in her hands. Weapons, yes, safety pins, no.

Character Inspiration

• Susan Pevensie from The Chronicles of Narnia
• Annie from Annie (:

Skylar

I thought that (more for my sake than yours) I should do a blog post about each of the triplets from The Shadow Conspiracy --- their personalities, likes, dislikes, etc. I decided I'd start with Skylar, because I'm writing from her perspective today. :)

So. Where to start? Skylar is probably the most complicated main character I've got. I can't even find a proper picture to do her justice (though the one above comes pretty close). She has a broken past and absolutely no childhood whatsoever. She's never played with toys. She's never had time for toys really. From a young age, all she'd been focusing on is stealing.

It's not her fault, of course. Despite having no firm father or mother figure, she still has morals that aren't completely screwed up. She was forced to steal, raid, and trespass at the command of the leader of the group of thieves she was bound to --- Drew Sebastian. A lazy lump of a man, with a heart that has rotted over the years. 

Her favorite tool? Or tools? Her utility belt, which carries all sorts of technology far advanced beyond her day and age (which is the future world, if you didn't get the memo). It never leaves her, even when she sleeps. She doesn't allow it to leave her sight. It's too precious. 

Being trained since she was three, she is a gymnast/karate master/assassin and she knows at least a dozen ways to knock you out/kill you with only a pencil or a credit card. But she doesn't like to brag. Despite her background, she's quiet and gentle with those she loves. But don't cross her --- like a mama bear protects her cubs, Skylar is fierce to protect the people she cares about. And, goodness, she certainly could pull it off, easy.

Character Inspiration

• Black Widow, from the Avengers
• Tris, from Divergent
• Corrie ten Boom from The Hiding Place

The Unexpected

You know how, when you write, something happens that you had no idea would happen when you sat down to finish the chapter? Well, that something happened.

And when I say something, I mean one of the main characters getting captured and another getting shot.

My readers will hate me.

“Come on, we need to hurry, they’re right behind us!” Skylar hissed, but a gurgle stopped her in her tracks. Turning, Skylar’s heart stopped.

            Sophie lay collapsed in the tunnel, barely conscious, a dark red stain spreading from the side of her tunic. Her face was ashen and her eyes were unfocused, one hand lying gingerly over the wound.

            Skylar’s face drained of all color. “No,” she murmured.

            Sierra reached over and felt for a pulse. Skylar held her breath. The shouts at the end of the tunnel seemed to fade away as she waited for Sierra’s answer.

            “She’s alive,” Sierra said. “but she needs help, fast, or that could easily change.” Hoisting her up, Sierra turned to Skylar, her face determinedly calm. “Let’s go.”

            The two ran for their lives, trying to ignore the shouts that were coming closer, trying to ignore the growing scarlet stain, trying to ignore Sophie’s limp arms and closed eyes.

And, being such a wonderful blogger, I won't tell you what happens. ;)

They ran, but they had talked too long --- the guards were on their tail. Ransom, who was leading the way, looked back and groaned. “I can’t take you to the tunnels with them following us like this,” he said. “It would be a direct giveaway to our hiding place.”

            “Now what do we do? We don’t have time for this!” Sierra’s calm demeanor was shattering as Sophie became less and less conscious and more and more blood dripped through the tunic and over Sierra’s fingers.

            Suddenly, a plan struck Skylar --- a horrible plan, a plan that went against every fiber of her being, a plan that was stupid and foolish yet would work.

            There are greater things to fight for.

            Taking a deep, deciding breath, Skylar stopped running. Ransom and Sierra halted too, staring back at Skylar incredulously.

            “Serenity, what are you doing? Come on!” Ransom urged.

            But Sierra knew what she was going to do. “No, no, don’t do this, please don’t do this,” she begged.

            Skylar had already made up her mind, and nothing could sway her from it now. “No. I’ve got to do this, or we’ll all die. Go.”

            They both hesitated, their mouths open, ready to protest.

            “Go!” Skylar screamed. Turning, she faced the oncoming slew of guards and pulled, out of her utility belt, one hand grenade and a pistol.

            “Skylar,” Sierra begged softly, forgoing all nicknames, “there’s still time left … we could still make it … please …”

            Skylar turned back to her, the grenade armed and ready. “You don’t understand,” she said quietly. “I have to do this. Now, go, or else this will all be in vain.”

            Skylar looked at Ransom, who looked stunned, but he nodded. At least he understands, Skylar thought, as she watched him gently grab Sierra by the elbow and pull her away.

            Closing her eyes, she turned slowly back to the oncoming horde. They were close now. She could see the manic fury in their eyes. They reminded her of the dogs Drew would send to chase after deserters --- hungry, barbaric, unnatural.

            Time seemed to slow down as Skylar raised the grenade and tossed it towards the front line. It exploded on contact, blasting the first row to smithereens and sending the second flying into nearby buildings. The others, merely singed, didn’t even glance at their fallen comrades as they stepped over the bodies and raced towards her, their guns outward, but they weren’t firing.

            They mean to take me prisoner, Skylar calculated, as she raised her own pistol and took aim. Well, I can’t say I didn’t expect that.

            Still, the word prisoner sent chills up her spine as her bullets hit their mark. She remembered Ransom discussing how death would be preferable to the torture that awaited.

            The guards were upon her now. She felt rough hands grab her arms and cold pistols press against her back. She took one last glance behind her, to see nothing. They were gone. They were safe.

            She felt someone’s thumbs press against the pressure point on her neck. She didn’t fight it. She knew that this was how it would end. As darkness closed in from all sides, she sighed deeply.

            There are greater things to fight for.

Cruel, I know. Sorry. :)        

Do any of you have any good fonts to recommend? Because I'm crazy about fonts, and I need a new one to use. What fonts do you use/know/like?

Making a Kidnapping

Agh. Sorry I haven't posted in a while guys. Between Christmas, New Year's, and school starting back up again, posting's been in the back of my mind. I apologize. But, I hope you all had a Merry Christmas! How did it go for you?

My NaNoWriMo novel is still going strong, at *goes to check* 68,915 words. Yes, over the limit, I know, but I couldn't fit all my ideas for The Shadow Conspiracy into 50k words! I'm nearing the end (YAY!) but I'm stuck on one vital scene.

To describe the scene without writing several paragraphs will be hard, but I'll try my best. So, the three main characters --- the triplets, Sophie, Skylar, and Sierra --- have to kidnap their brother, Santiago.  I'm having trouble writing this, because instead of showing, I am telling by habit. It makes the scene boring, even for me as the author. It's supposed to be thrilling, full of action and close calls, but I can't seem to make it so.

Do you have any tips for writing action scenes? I need them. Desperately. xD Here's a snippet from what I have so far (from the perspective of Santiago), just to give you a taste of what's happening:

Santiago was restless.

            No matter how much his tutor droned on, nor how much he tried to keep his eye on the textbook page, he couldn’t keep his focus. His mind kept wandering to his mother, lying sick in bed, or his father, sitting below him in a meeting.

            I wish I was at that meeting, he thought, instead of listening to old Wheezy talk about … what is he talking about? Santiago sighed. I wish something awesome would happen.

            Boom.

            Santiago jumped. Wasting no time, he rushed to the window (scattering papers everywhere as he did so) and pressed his nose to the glass. The hill, on the outskirts of King’s Crossing, was on fire.

            Santiago pressed a hand to his chest. Sweet mother of magic mushrooms! Am I a wizard or something?

            “Young man, you get back ---” Mr. Meesler stopped, just short of the window. “My goodness --- what in the world ---”

            A knock suddenly came at the door. Slipping on the fallen papers, Santiago rushed to the door and opened it, revealing a soldier.

            “Sir, this is from your father,” the soldier said, handing a piece of parchment to him. “Give this to your tutor, please.”

            “Yes, sir!” Santiago saluted the man, snapped the door shut, and raced to the tutor’s desk. Meesler snatched the envelope from him and, using a pair of scissors, snipped it open.

            Santiago crossed his fingers behind his back. Please let me leave this stuffy place … please let me leave this stuffy place …

            “Your father says to stay here, in the classroom, and continue following the schedule,” Mr. Meesler said tartly, folding up the parchment and sticking it in his desk.

            Santiago groaned. “But, Mr. Meesler ---”

            “No buts, young man! We shall proceed as ordered. Take your seat.”

            Santiago shuffled back to his seat and plopped into it, but his mind was further from the lesson than ever. As he watched soldiers rush to the hills, he couldn’t help but feel like something tremendously exciting was about to happen.

Probably not a very good insight, but it's all I could give right now. :) Thoughts?

First-Person Experiment

I tried writing in the first person, for the first time yesterday.

I always stayed away from that kind of writing --- for what reason, I don't know exactly, but I always believed it to be too difficult and felt like I wasn't good enough to attempt it.

But I tried it yesterday, and I think it went pretty well. I'll post the snippet here --- feedback is appreciated! Do you prefer to write in first person or third person? (Or is it second....I always get confused.) If you like writing first person, why do you prefer that way of writing to others? And, please --- any tips from those first person experienced writers??? ;)

P.S. It'll be a long snippet. :P

Rain pounds as I run, mud sloshing around my feet and sticking to my sneakers, water running down my face and dripping off in rivulets, hiding my tears.

No. It can't be true. It just can't be.

I collapse under a nearby tree, and hug my soaked jacket closer. As soon as I stop, a bitter cold begins to seep in, a cold that matches the chills I've been having for the past ten minutes.

No. It's not true. He's lying.

My uncle's face swims up in my mind, his greasy hair clinging to his face and his stale breath tinging my nose. “She's dead, son,” he had said. “Killed in an accident at work.”

I had not believed him, and I wouldn't start now, but … something in his words had rang true. Mom had been acting strangely lately --- not suicidal, like so many others in our family before her, but Mom had been --- no, is --- the happiest woman I'd ever met. She had started telling me that she loves me more than usual. Hugging me more often. Treating me as if she would die the next day, like every hour was her last.

She hadn't wanted to go to work today --- I remember clearly her worried eyes and distracted expression. “Caleb,” she had said to me, “Caleb, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart, and that I want you to believe in God always, no matter what. He has a plan for everything.”

I hadn't thought much about those words at the time, but now that I look back I realize that those were the last words I would ever hear her speak.

No! I bite my lip, my fists clenching. No, you will hear her speak again, you will!

I stare out from under the tree at the dark sky. Thunder booms in the distance, and rain pours from the heavens like nobody's business. It's almost like the sky is crying, harder than it's ever cried before.

Sobs well up inside me, but I choke them down. No. No, she's alive, I know it.

My conscience twinges. I know that that's a lie. I have to face the truth.

She's never coming back.

I punch my fist into the rough tree bark, and my knuckles scrape, mingling blood with the rain. But I don't care. I don't feel the pain.

I punch and kick the tree again and again, my crying drowned out by the ever strengthening thunder, until I can't stand it anymore and I slide to the ground again.

I bury my face in my hands. My bloodied knuckles are warm compared to the icy rain.

“God,” I cried, my lips cracked, my voice higher than usual, “God, why did You do this to me? Why? Don't You care?”

Lightning sizzles above me, and with it comes the memory of the last time I saw my mother --- worried, stressed, yet loving. Believe in God, always. He has a plan for everything.

I have never felt so alone, so vulnerable. I never had friends or cousins. I never had a father who cared and loved me --- I never knew my father. And now I've lost my only friend, my only companion, the only relative that actually cares what I'm thinking, feeling, or wanting.

Mom, why did you have to die?

“Caleb?”

An unfamiliar voice calls out my name --- crisper than the lightning and tougher than the tree bark, yet gentle and kind. I turn and see no one.

Sighing, I rest my head against the tree and nurse my wounded knuckles. “It's nothing,” I say to myself. “Nothing. Just the voices again.”

The voices, the voices. I hear them all the time. Whispered conversations, sometimes in a language I understand, sometimes not. I hear deep voices talking about battle plans, or evil voices talking about murder. Most people would believe that this is too much for a twelve year old to bear, yet I've been bearing it all my life.

“Caleb?”

There it is again. Most unusual. I crane my neck and look around again --- still no one. Weird, I think. I always hear voices, but they never call my name, and never ever repeat anything twice.

I struggle to my feet, focusing my attention on the darker, shadowed forest ahead. With a shudder, I remember, only a week ago on my twelfth birthday, staring out the window and seeing a pair of bright, hate-filled red eyes staring back at me. In a flash, they were gone, a cackle fading into the air, but it still scared me silly. I told many family members of it that day, which was probably not the smartest thing to do --- most of them firmly believe that I should be committed to an insane asylum.

But not my mom.

“You're not imagining things, honey,” she had told me firmly, patting my hand consolingly. “I believe you. But, from now on, let's try to focus on the good things in life, the heavenly things, okay?”

I had nodded and slept in her room with her that night in an extra sleeping bag on the floor. I hadn't seen anything else since then, but that situation reminded me of many in the past --- catching a glimpse of an angel when I was seven, or hearing two men discuss war strategies when I was eleven.

The voices were growing stronger now, though --- stronger than before, stronger than ever. I could only assume that the hallucinations (what else could they be?) of angels and red eyes would grow stronger too.

“Caleb.”

The voice returns again, firmer and not questioning. I glance around, somewhat frantic --- what if the voice was a demon, or a monster? Coming to kill me?

“Who's there?” I call out tentatively.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a man step out of the shadows of the forest. I spin around to face him.

He is an older man, tall, but slightly hunched over. Though his hands are gnarled and his hair is streaked with grey, his eyes radiate life and energy. He leans against a tree nearby, his hands wrapped around a knobbly walking stick.

“Good evening, Caleb,” he says. “I'm glad you finally recognized that I am here.”

“Who are you?”

“You wouldn't know me,” the man says sadly. “We were never introduced --- well, never introduced that you will remember.”

I tilt my head to the side. This man knows something, I can tell. Something important. I have never seen him in my life, but he looks somewhat familiar. “Have we met?”

The man shrugs. “Yes, but you will not have remembered it. At all.” He looks up from where he had been staring at a tree root as gnarly as his hands. “I was hoping you would know who I am.”

I stare at him for several moments, trying to register who he is. And then it hits me, a strange idea, but with the way I am, totally possible.

“Are you … God?”

The man chuckles. “No, son, I'm not God.” He shuffles closer to me, his hands clenched around his walking stick, his footsteps making slurping noises in the mud. He looks at me with kind, warm eyes. “Caleb, I'm your grandfather.”

My eyes narrow.

“Where's your proof?” I ask, suspicion gnawing at my insides.

This man sighs and shakes his head. “I don't have any proof that would be of use to you … only birth certificates, and they were burned in a fire years ago.”

I snort. “Convenient.”

He doesn't respond, only moves closer, until he is right next to me. Though he is dripping wet, he smells good --- he reminds me of warm summer days I used to spend with my mother, out picking apples and cherries and taking them home to make a pie.

For what seems like hours, we sit together, our backs pressed into the tree, watching thunder roar and lightning crack like a whip, splitting the sky in two. We watch nature's display slowly come to an end, and the rain lessen to a drizzle, and faint rays of sunshine poke through the clouds.

Suddenly, he turns to me. I immediately tense, not knowing what to expect --- is he a demon or monster that wants to eat me or possess my soul? Is he really my grandfather? Why did he come here? How does he know my name, and where to find me?

Then I notice something. Something I didn't notice before.

His eyes are sharp and clear, an icy, electric blue that seems to pierce through someone's soul and seek out all their secrets.

Those eyes are familiar.

They are my mother's eyes.

My eyes.

Tagged!

Again! Thanks, Cait. :)

I'm serious, now....this is the last time I'm going to do a tag. I'll bet my readers are bored stiff (is that a phrase?) but I couldn't resist Cait's questions. =)

But, honestly. I won't tag anyone, and I won't write any questions of my own, buuuuut.....Cait's questions are awesome. So, here goes:

Rules

(Oh, this is a Liebster award thingy, by the way, but I don't feel like posting the picture. :D)

Post eleven random facts about yourself, answer the eleven questions the awarder has given you and make up eleven questions for your awardees to answer in return. Tag eleven fellow bloggers, and notify them of the award. 

Okay. I'm going to break like almost all of those rules, but hey.

Eleven Random Facts

1. I am on Facebook and Pinterest.

2. I have three wild, competitive younger brothers. (Which happen to be running around the kitchen right now in the middle of a race, one of them cheating, but denying it repeatedly)

3. I'm better coming up with cool girl names than cool boy names. (Ack.)

4. I want to be a stay at home mom with a bunch of kids when I grow up. And a writer, duh. :P

5. I'm homeschooled - never been to public school in my life.

6. I don't like public speaking. Yet Drama is my favorite class. I'm confusing....(:

7. Sci-fi is my favorite genre --- for everything, books, movies, TV shows.....

8. I think it would be fun to make a movie. Or be on the set of a movie.

9. Though I LOVE writing a lot, it still would be really awesome to be able to draw well. (I can't.)

10. ^It would also be awesome to be able to sing well. (I sound like a dying frog.)

11. I'm good (most of the time) at coming up with titles, but the backs of dust covers? Forget it.

Now for Cait's questions!!!!! :D

1. When did you start writing?

Oh....um, Mom says kindergarten. :) She says: "I had to write it down, but you told me what to say." But I think that I actually started started writing novels around age 10 or 11, when I co-wrote a book series with my friend called Princess Quest. It was horrible (my writing was so bad!) but, hey, you live and learn.

2. Do you have a soft spot for a particular character? (Come now, be honest!)

Ehhh....as of right now, for The Shadow Conspiracy, I think it's Sophie. :) She's a lot like me in the fact that she's "half and half" -- tomboy and girly girl. She also has the same personality (ish) as me, so we have a lot in common. Because of that, it's easier to write from her perspective, so I tend to do so a lot. I need to get out of the habit ... The Shadow Conspiracy will turn into the Sophie Show. :) (Not that she'd be against that, of course.)

3. If you had to choose between writing or reading, which would you pick?

I don't know, this is tough. I like them both --- with reading, you get to experience different worlds; with writing, you get to create them. They both have pros and cons. One thing I like about reading, though, is it's portable (I write on my home computer, and I can't lug that everywhere), perfect for boredom, and you learn techniques from it. Not to mention that it brings awesome fandoms. (HP rules!)

But, I have to say I like them equally. :)

4. How often do you have to "rush off" to write down an idea before it escapes?

ALL. THE. TIME. My brain isn't the best at retaining my brilliant ideas (*chuckle chuckle*) so I try to always have a notebook handy. At the moment, I tend to have most of my ideas in my Composition and Science classes at school, so my class notebooks are filled with random scribblings.

5. Do you plot and outline your books or wing it?

I do both. Normally, I'll sketch a basic outline for a chapter (I want this and this to happen, etc.) and things are open to being changed. I'm never set on an outline --- it's just a way to keep my scattered brain focused on what I need to have done. I normally break my guidelines, but it's nice to have them.

6. Are you a sucker for a happy ending or do you leave your readers in misery?

Well, real life is hard --- not every person has a happy ending. I believe in telling it like it is, but I always try to aim for a "heroes triumph" ending. Though I DO NOT believe in serious cliffhanger book endings. (There's the reader coming through.)

7. How protective are you of your baby novel?

Kind of protective, I suppose. :") I won't let anyone read over my shoulder while I write (unless it's a parent, then I have no choice) because it's distracting and I don't want to give anything away. :) But as for posting bits and pieces, I'm fairly open. :)

8. Plans for publishing eventually? Are you going to self-publish or go traditional?

Definitely want to get published someday --- it's every writer's dream. ;) I would prefer to go traditional ... if I get turned down, I'll just keep trying. Scholastic and Disney/Hyperion are my favorites right now. 

9. Are you guilty of using the odd cliche plot element? How are you trying to make it fresh?

Not really ... I mean, I'd rather not be cliched. Nobody wants to, but sometimes it just happens. I try to make it fresh by not having a strict, solid, "filled in" outline. I like to color outside the lines. :) I'm always open to suggestions and random fancies that would spark something strange and fresh. 

10. Tell a little about a character you're currently fleshing out.

The Stranger that I posted about last --- Falcon, a.k.a the Clockwork Master (Jack, you're awesome.) He's very sketchy right now....I might make him a cyborg. Still deciding on that, though. But, he's supposed to be mysterious, maybe evil, maybe good, totally untrustworthy, yet he's the leader of the Fallen (the Resistance against the Raven King). He's seen better times --- he's scarred, outside and inside. By what, I'm not sure yet. But I know he's been made stronger by his rough times.

11. Which is the better type of chocolate? White and milky or 75% dark? (This has a lot to do with writing.)

Agreed. I like milky ... if I eat a lot of dark, it doesn't agree with me. :S But I am in love with Sarris's chocolate pretzel candy bar. Reese's, Nestle Crunch, and Swedish Fish are good too. (The cool thing is, Sarris Chocolate Factory is only a half an hour from my house. They have the best ice cream. <3)

Thanks Cait for the AMAZING questions. I won't ask any (sorry, guys!) because I already did, several posts before. Feel free to go back and do them if you want(: