100 words

I have a new little segment called 100 words. Where I get prompts from a comunity that I belong to on livejournal and I write the emtries here and there. Tell me what you think.
*****
Canon: Original
Characters/ Paring: Poppy, Mommy, Meggie
Prompt: when we dance
Rating: G
A/N: I have a song for this one, it's I Hope You Dance by Lee Ann Womack. I listened to it while writing it.

“Poppy,” she squeals, scarlet curls bouncing, “Poppy, dance with me.”

She’s giggling, all dimples, as she struggles to pull her grandfather off his rocking chair. He laughs as Meggie’s little hands grabbed at his. Mommy had put a record on the turntable and the music flowed through the air.

Poppy and his granddaughter were on the porch; Poppy in his rocking chair, and Meggie in the grass where her toys lay scattered, pink on green.

Poppy laughs and hauls himself up, twirls her down the steps, Meggie on his toes.

There they twirled, in Poppy’s last dance through the yard.

****
Story #2
Title: Old Photographs
Canon: Original
Prompt: photographs
Characters/Parings: none
Rating: PG

She sniffed, wiping away the tears as she threw another photograph in the fire place. She sat in front of the hearth, a box in her lap and a blanket around her shoulders, staring into the fire. She took out another photo and held it in front of her face.

The girl in the photo looked like her, but felt nothing like she did now. She felt empty, abandoned, the girl in the photo look happy and whole. He was in the photo, with an arm around her.

He was gone now, and left her with nothing but old photographs.
*****
Story #3
Title: Lots of Photographs
Canon: Original
Prompt: photographs
Characters/Parings: Jill and Kate(no parings)
Rating: PG

They laughed together, on the kitchen floor. Laughing at faces they had made, cloths they had worn, and things they had done. They sat and looked through boxes of old photographs.

They giggled over boys they had dated, teasing about old flames and new ones. They cried over old wounds that had never fully healed. Kate cried for her mother who lost her fight to cancer, Jill cried for her brother who had lost his way. They comforted and were comforted. Then they parted ways, went down different roads.

They promised to stay close, and to take lots of photographs.

The Drabbler is Back!

I'm all better. I took a breather and I started writing and I think this turned out pretty good. I just started writing it today and I wanted to post it raw and see what you think. Leave a comment and I'll post the revised edition. It's not finished yet, I'll post the rest tomorrow. It's just a drabble so it's not going to go anywhere but I really think I could make it go somewhere.

A little girl with red hair stood at the small window of her tree house, a determined look on her small face. She’s barefoot, wearing shorts and a white T-shirt stained with ketchup from the lunch she had stubbornly refused to eat. Simply because, “Cows have feelings too Mommy!”
Her hamburger now lay on the kitchen table under a paper towel, waiting for her father’s return from work.
“Man the sails!” She yelled, cupping her small hands around her eyes like binoculars, “hoist the anchor, We’re ready to set sail!”

I thought it was cute. I could had a little boy or something and make it a romance. I could do all kinds of things to it. I liked it and I think I also like this writing style. It works for me, I don't like first person anymore. Not since I started Dodger, the Pirate, and the Fire Queen. So tell me what  you think.

Depressed and Officially PO'ed

WARNING!!!! IF STRONG LANGUAGE OFFENDS YOU

DO NOT READ!

you have been warned

I feel REALLY depressed right now. Like an 'I'm never going to be a good writer' kind of depressed. It's bad, and it ain't FREAKING funny. Once I write halfway decent crap I'll feel better, but if I don't do anything soon, I swear I'm going to shoot myself.
Turns out I can't write for shit because my grammar sucks ass. Apparently I suck and I'm pissed. I feel like shit.
If anyone feels differently let me know because I can't see the silver lining to this fucking rain cloud.


SORRY FOR THE LANGUAGE BUT I WARNED YOU. ANY NASTY COMMENTS WILL BE DELETED. NOT THAT I'LL GET ANY.
ANYWAY I AM OFFICIALLY...

PO'ed.

AND I FEEL LIKE CRAP SO SUE ME!!!!!

Summer Reading is a Joke

Its really ridiculous, honestly. Do they really expect us to do it? My English class asked us to write a double entry journal for the book Milkweed by Jerry Spinelli. I liked it was really good. It's about a boy surviving the Holocaust. It's sad but good.
But them asking us to do that stupid double entry journal... ugh...
So here I am one week left of summer and I haven't even started, and I got to reread Milkweed and dissect it till there's nothing left.

UGH!

Oh well. Better get started. Sorry about the suck-y post. I just had to vent, I was getting really worked up about it.

Also i have another blog called Rock Bottom, look at my profile and check it out. its nothing special but check it out any way and leave me a comment.

Ok, I got another tip for you guys... watch your tenses. When your typing really fast sometime you slip up (I'm guilty of doing that myself, that's why its important to re-read your stuff). I normally write in past tense when I'm writing in first person, I think past tense works better for first person.

At the moment I'm writing Dodger, the Pirate, and the Fire Queen in third person and in past tense. Past tense is probably the most common type of tense used in stories.

I have the main title song for Dodger's story, More Than it Seems by Kutless, it's it's absolutely perfect and I'm pulling together the soundtrack. It has five songs that I got from the Bridge to Terabithia and the Chronicles of Narnia soundtrack. I'll post what I have of the first chapter to Dodger, the Pirate, and the Fire Queen soon, I promise.

Noticing Things

The other day I was writing the first chapter of Dodger, the Pirate, and the Fire Queen and I noticed that while I was writing it everything else just sort of faded away. It was like I was having a one on one time with my characters. I saw the scene I was writing and it came out onto the computer screen perfectly, without a hitch.

I noticed that when the world doesn’t fade away like that, my writing doesn’t sound as great. It just sounds like I'm spitting words out just because there’s nothing better to do. And it shouldn't be like that. Writing is like another form of art, only instead of painting a picture, your writing a picture. I figured that when you don't feel like you’re in the scene that your writing then you are not doing it right. You’re just writing words.

You should feel 'one' with your characters and your story when you write it, because if you don't it’s going to come out sounding like crap. Also, it won’t mean anything. It would just be another story that has no purpose; it would just be a bunch of words.

You know what I've noticed about writing is that, if your just typing the words your not doing it right. It's not as satisfying when you don't see the scene unfold before your eyes.

When your truly writing you'll know. You won't just see the computer screen or your piece of notebook paper. You'll be in the scene that your writing and watching it happen as your words create it.

So here's my little tid bit of information. If you can feel the scene go through your finger tips and onto the computer screen then you're doing it right. If not, your just writing words.

You have to feel it, don't think of the keyboard as just a keyboard, but as a translator. To translate your thoughts into words.

Feedback, I could really use it.

I think I've finally gotten that hang of this whole blogging thing. This is my 18th post, shoot me a comment, tell me what you think of my blog. Give me some pointers on how to improve.

I think I play around with it and change it a little to much. I changed the name again. It used to be A Free Writer's Journal now it's N-Rambler. And I changed the template for the millionth time too. I guess that's the art freak in me.

I have a new music favorite, a band named Skillet and oldies rock like AC/DC and Aerosmith. So I think I'll post music videos on the slow days when I have nothing to say.

Like today.

But, instead of posting a music video, I'm going to post a small little ramble-like poem thing. Enjoy.

But first, here's another tip for writers everywhere. Watch the grammer, sometimes when you're writing fast you get the punctuation all tangled up. The bast way to avoid this problem is to read your peice out loud to see if it flows. Take long pauses on periods and short ones on commas.

And remember, the way you write it and the way you mean it to sound might not be the way your reader will read it. So make sure you write it that way.

Now for a little poem type thing that's the first post in a second blog I'm doing. It's just a place where I can go an write through things that I'm dealing with. It's just a where I can just write or post whatever I want. Feel free to check it out.

Peice of Peace

I'm sitting on a beach
Watching the waves roll off the shore

I'm standing in the rain
Feeling the droplets roll off my skin

I'm drifting in the water
Losing myself in the calm
Losing myself in the quiet

The world is calm
The world is quiet

I know that when I leave
it will all rush back
the sound will rush through

but when I'm here
It grows quiet
I float
the world grows clam

I'm happy just being here
in my little peice of peace

A New Idea

Yes, it's true. I have another novel idea, and this one is actually pretty cool. It's like a Bridge to Terabithia/ Narnia/ Alice in Wonderland kind of story.

It's call Dodger, the Pirate, and the Fire Queen. I know the title sounds like it's a kid's story but it's not. It's really cool. I'll be posting the chapters as I write them. My dad and I came up with the story. So we're co-writing it, more like I'm writing it with his help. I'll post the summery when I post chapter one.

But, as for the Riddles. I'll be posting chapters as I write them. I might even give them their own blog. I have the best beginning, it sound much better than my first attempt and I think it's really coming together, but... I let you be the judge of that.

As for 21 Guns. I'm still writing that too. I'll be post chapters for that as I write them as well. Honestly I am in love with that story. I love my characters and I love writing it so I'm definatly continuing it and posting the chapters here. Tomorrow I'll post chapter one since it's finished.Hopefully someone will read it.

Like this post? Hate it? Comment on it.

A Riddle and An Important Epiphany Moment

Well, I feel really proud of myself.

I wrote the beginning of The Riddles yesterday. You remember that novel that was going to make me rich? Well this is it. And this beginning's a keeper, it's more like a prologue to the story. Like a foreshadow to the story line, but its awesome as hell.

Seriously... I feel like I had an important epiphany moment over here. Literally!!! I'm practically overflowing with pride. It sound mysterious and intriguing... If I do say so myself... and I do. ;)

I know... modesty right? Well, I've decided that for this post, I'm throwing modesty out the metaphorical window.

This prologue is freaking awesome. (In my opinion, but I really want to know what you think. So.) Here it is!

I had never believed in hauntings and ghosts. I always thought they happened between the pages of a book. I was sixteen when my father and I moved to Ashton.
From the moment we pulled into the driveway of that old Victorian house, too the months that followed, I lived through many things one doesn’t see in a lifetime.
The events in this story are strange, but they happened all the same. They happened on the corner of Abbot Road, in a small town in Texas.
Like I said, I had never believed in haunted houses or ghosts or horror stories. I always thought they only happened between the pages of a book, turns out, I was right.

Tada!!!! Short I know but it's something. So.

Back to business. I'm going to be posting a lot of drabbles in the up coming weeks so be prepared to comment. I've been having a writer's spree writing every where, it's been so much fun but unfortunately my mom's been giving me grief about it.

Oh well. What did you think of the prologue?
Like it? Hate it? Comment on it.

Updated, Spouting Ideas, and Expressing My Opinion

OK... I am pleased to say that Chapter 1 of 21 Guns is posted. Check up on my profile if you want to read my other stories.

My Dad finally came through and helped me finish the revising process, I currently have no reviews. I am officially depressed until I get at least five reviews for Chapter 1.

Also I've become obsessed with Harry Potter now and am spouting ideas for stories based on the characters. I am so horrible, but honestly can you blame me? I find it much easier to write stories about characters that have already been written.

I know... it confuses me to. But I am still writing it and I am posting it on the side of 21 Guns. So if your a Harry Potter fan, give it a look once I get the link up.

Oh, and my Dad wont be reviewing it so it will be raw material. I figured since some of the stories that I have read on Fanficiton are crap, I think I can afford to write half way decent crap.

True I feel bad about criticizing them but seriously, take a look at this stuff and you'll see what I mean.

They have everything from spelling mistakes to actual story mistakes, like calling someone a different name to completely messing up the setting.

Also when you're writing a story you have to consider how a NORMAL person would react. I mean if your boyfriend turns into a werewolf a NORMAL person would NOT enter a long winded speech about how 'I love you and no matter what you are I will still love you' and shit, they would, at the very least, run away screaming or else going into shock or FAINT or something.

Even Bella freaked out when she found out that Jacob was a werewolf... or a shape shifter... or what ever it's called.

I read one where the werewolf told the imprint about his 'furry little problem' right off the bat. Literally, they had just met at a bonfire and before they even tell the stupid legends he sweeps her away and asks her if she remembers the stories. She says yes, explaining the stories in her mind and talking to an invisible audience, and he takes her DEEP into the forest. Which coincidentally pops out of no where considering there AT A BEACH, and he proceeds to take of his cloths and shift into a werewolf. He writes his name in the dirt while in his wolf form quite cheesily, telling her that it's him.

The girl, who was calmly watching him, starts randomly hyperventilating when he leaves into the bushes to change back. He then comes back and lifts her off her feet and they begin heatedly making out in the middle of the forest while the author gives no indication that he ever put his cloths back on. He then whispers in her ear that she's his imprint.

See what I'm saying. I stopped reading after that because I was practically shitting my pants from laughing so hard. Honestly if some stranger took me into the woods and told me he was a werewolf:

One: He would never have gotten me INTO the woods in the first place, seeing as I've never met him before!

TWO: If I was stupid enough to let him lead me deep into the woods I would have split when he took his cloths off, telling me that he was a werewolf. I am not about to be raped by a loony!

THREE: I would have run screaming as soon as his paws hit the ground. Honestly, I do have a sense of self preservation ya know.

Anyway so now you know why my Harry Potter fiction will be a bit rough, because I can afford it.

So I feel like that was a little harsh but it's true. So...
Like this post? Hate it? Comment on it.

A Title and A Story

Attention! Attention!

My Twilight fan fiction now has a title! Yup, after three weeks of this story floating around in my head and finally making it on paper, it finally has a kick ass title.

The title is 21 Guns. Pretty sick right? I know.

Modesty alert!!!

But seriously I have found that one of the hardest parts of the writing process is finding the right title for your story. I mean it I spent THREE WEEKS thinking of a title for this story.

You'd think it would be the actual writing of the story, but no. That, believe it or not, is the easiest part.

You see the title has to be eye catching and poetic. It has to be twisted into the story and have something to do with the plot line.

For example… 'The Riddles.' That title has to do with the entire story and is twisted into the plot line.

Speaking of which I have to tell you guys the plot to that story. Oh well you guys read the prologue. If you didn't it's in the last post if you want to read it.

But any way, yeah, the title has a very important part in the story's life.

Progress alert!!

Chapter one of 21 Guns is close to its release date. Just a few more tweaks, stretches, and grammatical corrections and chapter one will be posted here and on fanfiction.net.

A Return and A Fanfiction

After a month and three days I'm back, with a new project.

I'm writing a fan fiction for Twilight pretty sick right? I know.

It's a crossover between Army of T.W.O, also sick am I right? Yeah I know, not what you'd expect but I like the idea. I came up with the main character while doing the laundry, extremely random I know. But hey, that's show biz right?

So anyway, I'm currently going through the painful writing/revising process. And so far I'm spewing ridiculous crap that makes me look pretty stupid. But I have my moments and so far I have the first three chapters on draft.

Chapter one is going through the revising process while Chapter two is on hold and Chapter three is being written. As soon as I finish polishing it up and give it a name, I'm posting it here and on fanficiton.net.

Hey... here's a tip for you aspiring writers out there. Always reread your stuff. Make sure it makes sense before you give it to anyone to read. Because I didn't.

I gave my dad Chapter one of my fan fiction and lets just say, I wrote somethings that sounded pretty stupid and now I never hear the end of it. So now I'm paying the price and submitting my chapters to the painful revising process. And when you have my dad, believe me it's painfully, painfully slow.

You see, he can't sit and read my chapter all the way through one time. No, he freaking spends ten freaking minutes on one page. And when he actually get's a few pages into the chapter, he has to get up and he never comes back! It's absolutely infuriating!!! He's read the beginning of Chapter one like three freaking times and I'm sick of it. The farthest I've gotten hm to read was about four pages into it.

In any case, the other day I was shifting through some loose papers I found in my desk, I came across a few old stories I wrote that have no plot what so ever. But they sound pretty and poetic so I figured I'd post them up for no one to read.

And guess what.

I'm not going to let my dad read them. Oh, I'm bad. That's right. Who's bad?

Anyway here's the most recent one. I think it sounds pretty. Tell me.

Golden sunlight streamed through the tree, leaving scattered patches of light on the grass at my feet. My flip flops were lying a little ways away and my bare toes sank into the cool emerald grass. I was sitting in my backyard, my knees drawn up to my chest, resting against a giant oak tree.
I had a notebook open on my lap. My pen, poised and ready to write, lingered over the pale sheet of paper as I looked around for inspiration.
The last rays of the setting sun danced on the rippling surface of the pond in front of me. A bird chirped somewhere above my head and a scarlet leaf twirled through the air, spinning in circles before touching the grass.
The wind picked up, tossing my hair around my face. Something brushed my arm. I looked around. The old rope ladder was swinging in the breeze, hanging from one of the lower branches of the oak tree.
My eyes traced up the ladder and found my old tree house, perched snugly in the crook of the trunk and a branch. I stood up, leaving my notebook on the ground. The wind blew faster, tossing the ladder more urgently. Almost as if it was calling to me.
I grabbed the coarse rope and held it steady as I placed my bare foot on the smooth wooden step and hauled myself up the swaying ladder.
......
Yeah, that's all I have. Pretty gosh darn poetic you gotta admit. It paints a picture you know? It paints a painting worthy of Picasso himself right?
Maybe I'll add to it, just 'cause.
Anyway. Like it? Hate it? Comment on it.

Friday and a Music Video :)

I have nothing to post today so I thought I'd post a song that I've had stuck in my head all week.
For your entertainment:
Dream on by Aerosmith

Virtual Warfare and another Soccer Game

You know what a great game to play with surround sound at top volume is?

Yup you guessed it, Army of Two.

If you didn't guess, it's o.k. I forgive you.

Army of Two is a great game to play, or watch if your anything like me. I can't play those kinds of game with the 360 view and gun aiming, I'm more of a Tap Tap kinda girl.
Just ask my friends, I steal their iPods all the time just to play it. I'm saving up for my own Touch because of it, but the other apps are a plus too. Anyway back on topic, my brother has taken to playing Army of Two at top volume on his PS3 in the living room.
Concentrating on anything is a difficult thing to do in my house, let alone when it sounds like the WWIII downstairs. So the only thing left to do is watch two heavily armored guys beat the crap out of other idiots with guns. It's quite funny actually, a great break from doing nothing all day long.
Unfortunately I've had writers block lately so nothing but crappy story lines have been coming out of my head. I had one that I thought was pretty good, but it ended up falling along the line of the Last Song by Nicholas Sparks and I haven't even read that book yet. That's how bad I am at the moment. I'm getting really frustrated with myself I've been spouting this really good stuff but it ended up sounding like another story I read.
I'm watching the World Cup again today, Australia vs. Germany. Watch Germany wipe the floor with Australia. I can't believe yesterday was a tie, I'm totally bummed but at least they didn't loose completely. A bunch of my friends are coming over to watch the game so I don't see any writing in my future. But I'll let you know if that status changes.
Toodles, I got some thinking to do.

School Hookie Police and a Soccer Game

Here we are, my second day into summer break and I'm still waiting for the A.P's (Assistant Principle) of my school to break my door down and drag me to school.

I woke up at 6:30 this morning because my phone has no mercy on me. I got dressed and everything when I finally remembered that I don't have school anymore. And what made me feel even more stupid is that its Saturday, I wouldn't have had school anyway. Monday will be the same story, I'll have a dream that I'm at school, I'll think its real, have a mini heart attack 'cause I'm not ready at all and I'll wake up and realize that the Hookie Police are not kicking my door down to come and take me to school.
Its happened before, I'm not kidding. Today Imma Be hanging out with my dad and watch the World Cup. USA vs. England today it's gonna be one hell of a game. USA! USA! USA! USA! USA! USA!
My mom is at a training coarse somewhere and wont be home till 5, my brother slept at his friends house and my other brother it gong there later today. So I get some father daughter bonding time with my daddy.
I'll also get some random writing in today to so I'm not without something to do. I'm re-reading the Inkheart Trilogy, I'm on the second one, Inkspell and I'm halfway through with it. Now all I need is inspiration. I'll probably work on The Riddles, I came up with a new beginning so I'll be able to post the plot line if I trust you enough.
Toodles, I got some writing to do and a game to watch. USA! USA! USA! USA! USA!

Summer Nights

This is it.

The moment you've all been waiting for!

Summer Nights babe!!!

Schools out!!!

Its summer time and I'm kicking it off right. I saw Killers yesterday with a friend of mine and it was so good, really funny. I can't wait to start writing again, with no more exams, no more useless math homework, no more studying I can do it without interruption.
I'll be posting more often now and I'll have more short stories posting as well. I'm working on a few right now but their not finished. As soon as the first one is done I'll post it. I'm also debating whether or not to write a fan-fiction on the Inkheart Trilogy.
I have a ton of new ideas for stories, as well as novel ideas. Their really interesting and the plot line is good, I'll be posting those as well. Funny thing about them is I have four really good ideas and I've only started to write two. I only have the beginning of both but I'm working on it. I've had these ideas for a whole year and I've changed them around so much.(since last summer to be exact) My main novel is called The Riddles, this one is going to make me famous so when it becomes a national best seller you can say you heard it here first.


Well that it for now.
Welcome Summer of '10, Goodbye School Year of '09- '10 you won't be missed.

Docks

Docks

Where the water was still like glass
Sitting here watching light dance off the lake
Our jeans rolled up to our knees
Toes dipped in the water rippling the surface
Two friends sharing secrets
Telling stories
Laughing together
Under the purple sky
Sitting on your dock
Our jeans rolled up to our knees
Toes dipped in the water rippling the surface
Friendships are strengthened during a sunset
On a dock
On a lake
Sitting there watching light dance off the lake
Where the water rippled around us


Tell my what you think. Comments below :)

Nightingales

I've had this idea for a while. It was one of my earlier stories from back when I was first starting out. My dad and I worked through it for a while and I fond it the other day floating around in my computer so I decided t share it. Enjoy.

It was a dream. I was sure of it. But the again I wasn't so sure. I was running. No. I was gliding, silently through the trees on four strong white legs from someone or something. It was one of those dreams where you're running for your life. But your feet cant take you fast enough. Then the forest opened up. I found myself running through a clearing. I spun myself around to face what was coming. My body turning gracefully in the night. A snarl ripped from my throat to warn my pursuer of the danger he was getting himself into. The cold wind wiped at my body making the hairs on my neck stand as I tensed for the spring.
I sat up, eyes wide open staring into the darkness of my room, panting as if I had just run a marathon. My heart pounding loudly against my chest. It was just a dream, I thought to myself, Just a stupid dream. Wasn't it? It was so vivid. I fell back on my pillow still breathing heavily. I wiped away the bangs that stuck to my forehead, and slowly slid out of bed. Disoriented and incoherent I made my way to the bathroom. The feel of my bare feet on the cold tile, was comforting and familiar. I leaned against the rim of the porcelain sink and opened the tap letting the cold water rush out loudly breaking the echoing silence of my confused thoughts. I cupped the water in my hands, feeling the cold rush up my arms in a chilling wave. I leaned over the sink as I washed away the anxiety left by the dream. The coolness lingered on my cheeks along with the droplets of water hanging on my lashes. I was finally in tune with my surroundings as I dried my face. It had only been a dream, just a dream, dark frightening because it felt so real, terrifyingly real. Flashes of the dream found their way back in my head but I chased them out with more water. I dried my face and looked up at the mirror. My red hair was wildly cascaded around my face and my hazel eyes were still wild and frantic.
I took several deep, slow breaths and reached for the brush resting on the edge of the sink. I started brushing my way through the tangled chaos that was my hair. The pull of the brush through my hair felt good it calmed me, brushing away the remnants of the dream. When the brush was sliding smoothly through my hair, I left the bathroom and walked to my nightstand and turned on the lamp.
I looked at the clock, the small red numbers shined through the orange glow of the lamp. I sighed and threw myself on the bed. It was one in the morning. I groaned into my pillow and felt around the nightstand for my ipod. When my fingers closed around the small devise I pulled it towards me, plugged the headphones in my ears and played my music. It was useless to try to fall back asleep so I pulled myself back off my bed and walked to the desk on the far side of the room. My backpack was hung on the back of the chair, I opened it and pulled out my unfinished homework from last night. This was going to be a long day.

Thinking

This is all new to me
You, your smile, your jokes
I wish I could just talk to you with out my stomach doing flips
I want you to know how I feel
But I can't find it in me to tell
What if you say no,
What if you say yes?
This is all new to me
How do I act around you?
They all say it should be easy, like breathing
Your all I think about now and you don't know it
I catch myself smiling when I think of you
and I catch myself thinking of you often
If only you knew...
When I'm thinking of you.

Not my Time

Hey, sorry I haven't updated lately but balancing school and cheer leading practice gets kind of hectic. I was also reading the Inkheart series and I put that first before writing. Also I was in Publix the other day with my aunt and the song on the speaker caught my attention. I really liked it so I typed in the lyrics that I heard, and the song was Not My Time by 3 doors down. I was watching the video and it gave me and idea. What if, there is a girl who could see future events that will claim the lives of people when its not their time. And its her job to save them before it happens. I'll post a scene so you can tell me what you think.

The noise of the city surrounded me, seeping through the walls, swallowing me whole. I was sitting on the floor of my apartment, legs crossed and eyes closed, rubbing my temples. I took deep even breaths and gave in to the pull in the back of my mind.
All the sound was cut off and images swirled behind my closed lids.
A group of kids standing on a street corner. A girl with brown hair standing a little ways away under a lamp post, she had her phone out.
I saw the screen, she was sending a text message to her parents asking them to come pick her up. When they answered she snapped her phone shut and slipped it in her pocket. I caught a glimpse of the small white numbers on her screen. It was 9:45.
She wrapped her arms around her torso trying to keep warm. She watched her breath rise as she breathed in and out.
She looked down the road for her mother's car, and I saw the name of the street. Then a pair of head lights emerged from the darkness coming closer, and a black Sedan stopped in front of her momentarily. The window was rolled down and conversation passed between the girl and the driver. She shook her head at something he said then the passenger door opened and she was dragged in, kicking and screaming. The kids on the curb to high to notice.
The vision blurred and I saw the same Sedan pull into a garbage dump. The driver's door opened and a man stepped out and walked to the trunk. He pulled a large black trash bag and threw it into the dump, got back into the car and sped off.
Leaving the bag laying motionless in a heap in the dark.
The vision ended and the sound flooded back. I opened my eyes and found myself back in my apartment living room, legs crossed and eyes opened, rubbing my temples. I looked at the clock on my wall. 8:57. I jumped to my feet and grabbed my keys off the counter and raced out the door, not caring that I was bare foot, not caring that I was in sweats and a T-shirt, all that mattered right now was finding that brown haired girl on the street corner before the guys in the black Sedan.
Because it was not her time.

Writer's Block

Writer's Block. All writers hate it, but they can't seem to avoid it. It always comes back no matter what music you listen to and no matter how hard you try to shoo it away. It happens to the best of us, and you have to try your hardest to get past it. So I decided to write a story about writers block. Smart huh? So here it is. Tell me what you think.

Her pen lingered over the empty sheet of paper. Whole worlds, characters, and romances were just waiting to be dragged into existence, but the stories that normally flow out of her so easily and naturally were reluctant to come out of hiding. She looked around waiting for the inspiration that normally embraced her, but it was eluding her tonight. Her writing hand itched to sweep across the page and paint pictures on the blank surface, but nothing came.

She waited.

Nothing.

Frustrated, she slammed her notebook closed and scanned the room for inspiration but it was insisting on staying hidden. As if it was playing hide-and-seek. She could hear it calling but she had no means of finding it. She finally gave up and went to lay on her bed. Her stories would just have to wait till tomorrow. She could wait till then. Couldn't she?

Tell me what you think. R&R.

Moon Horse

I live next door to a horse farm called Coven Farm. And the people who run the farm never put horses in the pen closest to my house. But they placed one in there all this week, and I absolutely fell in love with it. Then, they took it away. I was so angry.

The horse was beautiful, it's coat was gray with white circles that looked like the craters on the moon. It looked like God had used a bit of the moon to paint his coat. I nicknamed it Luna (even though it's a boy). I was so upset when then took him away, when I saw the empty pen my whole day was ruined, and I don't even know what breed he is. Everyday when I walked home from school he would always look up right at me, it was the cutest thing. Now he is in the pen beside River Chase road. It isn't all bad, I can still see him but to do that I have to: leave my backyard into the road behind my house, walk up the road till I reach the farm, and stand on the side dangerously close to the cars driving by.

The view is great, Coven Farm has beautiful horses there. They have a russet colored one (who i think is a female), and midnight black one with a white star on his forehead. I have yet to name them all. I'm gonna take pictures to show you maybe even place Luna and the horses in one of my stories.

The full moon illuminated a small clearing shrouded in a thin sheet of mist. I could see the vapor of my breath rise as I breathed in and out. I wasn't sure what I was doing here, I wasn't sure if I was dreaming or not. The cold wind blowing around me seemed to real to be a dream. I was pondering this when a movement at the other end of the clearing caught my attention. A horse stepped into the clearing. It's coat was gray with white circles that looked like the craters on the moon.

The Moon horse trotted closer trough the mist, leading two others out from the safety of the forest. The two followed the Moon horse slowly, coming closer, cautiously, step by step. One, black as midnight the other, red as flame. The Midnight horse whinnied his disapproval when the Moon horse came closer. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my torso trying to keep warm. The Moon horse rubbed his nose on the side of my face. I closed my eyes wishing I could be back in my warm bed, not under the full moon in an empty clearing with three mysteriously beautiful horses.

What do you think. Remember R&R. Thank you, I'll post more tomorrow.

She Wolf (for lack of a better title)

Hey guys!

Look at that. I survived for another entry.

This was a spare of the moment thing. I wrote it after my H.O.P.E test. I was thinking of White Fang and I was inspired. It also helped that this girl sitting in front of me was drawing wolves ripping each other to shreds. So enjoy tell me what you think. It's a bit violent but poetic.

Don't forget read and review. R&R ;)




She stood there, towering over her brothers, standing in a pool of blood. Satisfied, she sat back on her haunches, threw her head back and let rip from her throat the sound that had been made by all her ancestors before her.

She howled in victory. She had defeated the ten, fully grown, male wolves, that lay panting and bleeding in the scarlet snow at her feet. She walked, stiff legged, daring them to challenge her. And after one last feral snarl, she lowered her head to devour her prize, relishing in the victory that was the beginning of more to come.

I didn't think it would be so short. It was longer on my paper.

Introductions

This is my very first blog and I'm very new at it so take it easy on me. I was encouraged to post my stories when my friends found some drabbles I had written.

Well, I guess I'll start off with telling you a bit about me.

I'm a teenage writer with WAY too much time on her hands.

I like to think of myself as a free spirit, I do things my way and I can't be held down. If I want something, I will do whatever it takes to get it.
In this blog I'm posting chapters of fictions that I'm writing, random drabbles that I come up with, and things that I just need to get out of my system.

I ramble, I drabble and I write.

Your feedback is greatly appreciated, so leave a comment.

Here's a little bit about moi that you might want to know.

I just survived my freshman year of high school. Unfortunately I didn't learn my lesson the first time around so I'm diving into my sophomore year.
I'm a major art freak and a major music junkie and you'll never see me without some form of music. Whether it be my phone, my i pod, or my stereo, I'm never without my music.

I wrote my first story when I was nine and I've been writing ever since. I've written countless short stories, I like to think I'm good at it.
But, I'll let you be the judge of that.

One day, I'll be as big as J.K. Rowling or Stephenie Meyer, and have my books made into huge box office movies. But until then, I'm just a regular girl armed with a lap top, a notebook and a pencil tucked behind her ear.

This is a small drabble I threw together. Tell me what you think.



*************
The day was almost over. The position of the small, black, minute hand was taunting me, moving slower and slower. I was growing restless, tapping my pencil in time with the never ending tick of the red second hand.
tick, tick, tick, tap, tick, tick, tick, tap
Then after what seemed like an eternity the bell rang, signaling the end of another prolonged day. The shrill ring interrupted the teacher, relieving her of the lecture that would have other wise lasted the rest of the year.
The rustle of papers being stuffed into a backpack, chairs sliding across the tile,and feet running to the door quickly followed the bell. My breath came out in a rush, as if I had been holding it in the whole period. I rose slowly, gathering my books in my arms, and walked to the door. I pushed hard. Eager to embrace the freedom that awaited me on the other side.

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What do you think? Like it? Hate it? Think I'm wasting my time? Comment.