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