The Islands of Chaldea

I just found out that "The brand new and final novel from the magical and whimsical pen of ‘the Godmother of Fantasy’, Diana Wynne Jones" is coming out in 2014!

And I'm super stoked!

'The Islands of Chaldea' is co-authored and completed by her sister, Ursula Jones. You can read more about it here: Harper Collins: The Islands of Chaldea

I am so totally super pumped! Diana Wynne Jones is my favorite author of all time, and my goal is to read every single one of her novels. I'm so excited!
\(^-^)/ ~!!!

Strayed Soul Poem

I had to write a poem for school using couplets and these sets of words:

• plea, me
• thrown, stone
• stood, wood

So here's what I got:

Long way down the road there stood
a dark and dangerous, forbidding wood.
Souls of many, there were thrown
and there they lay deep under stone.
From the forest could be heard the plea:
"Come, strayed soul, to rescue me."

I can't believe I wrote something so freaky.
I don't even know what it means.
But it rhymed, so.
Lemme know what you think.

Bridie's Domain Part 5!

Part 5: In Which Bridie Goes Shopping, is finally up! Check it out on Bridie's Domain: http://soulclanterritory.wordpress.com/

I'm already mostly finished Part 6: In Which Bridie Meets the Neighbors. I'm about to introduce a character that I'm super excited about! -_- And please dismiss the fact that his name starts with a 'b', yet again.
Read about him this Saturday!


Recently I've had a new fascination with japanese music. Here's one english translation of Happy Synthesizer by Lizz:

Enjoy! And don't forget to read Bridie's Domain! ^.^

Howdy Y'all!

So, school's been crazy. You would not believe how much homework I have. But the whole thing's being sorted out, so I hope to start blogging and writing again in a couple weeks!

Bridie's Domain has been dead for what..? A couple months? Yeah, I'm gonna revive her soon and keep the story going. Bridie's not dead yet! (But her Grandpa is. And there's a murderer on the loose so who knows how long she's last.)

As for this years OYAN, I'm just DYING to get started. Seriously, I've never had a novel that lasted this long or in dire need of a deep plot. It's already the best plotting I've ever done. Which, to be honest, is kind of sad, but still. I'm super excited.

My friend the Samster has a super cool blog, so click the super-fancy-shmancy link on the left to go to Samster Style!

Bridie's Domain Update

Bridie's Domain is getting on pretty well. I've already started writing Part 4 and Part 3 is already up for y'all to read. So if you've got time to spare, it'd make my day if you read and commented!

Bridie's Domain

So yup, that'd be great.

Also, I have a cold. And it sucks. So, quick prayer maybe? :\

Pixel Kitties

Pixel Art

I've been playing around with piq:

Konata of Lucky Star

Random teddy bear in paint.

Bridie's Domain: Web Serial

I'm writing another story, a web serial called Bridie's Domain. (I was thinking maybe I'd change it to Bridie's Mansion, but we'll see.) It's my first try at writing a mystery, so why don't you go over and give me a couple pointers?

Bridie's Domain


Also: DLWoW is in progress! Why don't you help it start sailing:

Da Lovely World of Writing


And just for fun:

Fluffy

Soyup, I was about halfway through drawing this little guy's head when I started freaking out.

I haven't drawn animals in so long I thought I might've been out of practice. Apparently not.

This is last year's puppy:

I has improved.

Cookies and Poems

So, um... I made Snicker-doodles, like, two weeks ago. They were good. Yay.

Zagum: *aplauds*
Tacos: shutup.
Zagum: shuttingup.


And I wrote more poems too:

Nobody

John was a gardener

who picked flowers. (yellow)

Ernest was a mailman

and a very nice fellow.

Fredrick was a painter

who painted houses brown.

Henry was a mayor

who ran a small town.

George was a baker

who baked cherry pie.

I know who they are--

but who am I?

Jane

Jane was a girl

of age twenty-two.

I like her alot.

(You'd like her too.)

When we would meet

she'd give me cho-co-lot.

I like meeting Jane.

(You'd like it alot.)

When we parted

with a too-da-loo,

I was sad she left.

(You'd be sad too.)

Cats and Dogs

Dogs are brown,

Cats are white,

They're all the same.

(They both bite.)

I wasn't sure if I was going to post the last one, because I found it both dull and inaccurate. Ah well.

I Write Like...

I found this little fun thing: I Write Like

It's fun.

So, apparently I wrote Mint and Zoey much like Rudyard Kipling, (JUNGLE BOOK!)

Ivy and Thorn much like Neil Gaiman, (Whoever he is.)

Forgotten is written like Margaret Atwood, (Don't know her.)

And Red-haired Runaway Princess (OYAN) is much like Anne Rice. (Whoever she might be. *googles* Oh. She writes lots of vampire novels. That's awkward.)


Check it out, it's lots of fun!

I'm gonna post this here cause it's the one I'm most proud of:

I write like
Rudyard Kipling

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Btw, if you wanna read Red-haired Runaway Princess, just ask and I'll send you a link.

The New Horror

Before we begin:

I've been drawing lately. Actually, to be more precise, I've been taking pictures of my drawings lately.

This is Icewolf.

This is Aurum, Icewolf's character.

And I think this is Tamiki.

Here's a wittle kitty,

And a wittle puppy.

And here's the wittle kitty and the wittle puppy together.
With the legs of my zebra above them.

Here's da wittle puppy again and again and again.
(I have dubbed him Mac.)

And here's da wittle kitty again and again. And again.
I named her Sky.

AND NOW. THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR.
('Cause I'm sure all that crap up there was so amazing.)

(Re)Introducing: Gayle!

Gayle has been here only once right here, though she also made a small appearance here.
The only difference is her age. And a couple quirks.
I actually did a little character sketch.

Gayle

Gayle: *noms chocolate*
Violet: Aw, you cutie.
Gayle: *drools*
Taylor: How old is she?
Lily: Around three, I'm guessing.
Zagum: Chocolate? At her age?
Mimosa: *shrug* We found her on our doorstep and that's what she was eating.
Truette: ...your doorstep?
Lily: Yup. There was a note: *reads*

This is Gayle.
Please take good care of her.
I know she is in good hands.
I do not, however, know when I shall return.
P.S. She loves chocolate.

Marth: Hey, Gayle. *awkward with children*
Gayle: Aah! *grabs Marth's hair*
Marth: Ah, leggo leggo leggo!
Lily: *pries open fists* Be gentle. This is Marth, can you say Marth?
Gayle: Mauth. Mauth mauth mauth.
Marth: O_O
Gayle: Mauth! *hugs Marths leg*
Marth: She's drooling on my knee.
Gayle: MAAAUUUTTTHHH! *screams*
Marth: Make her stop!!! *utter anguish and horror*
Tacos: *laughs* We love you Mauth.
Marth: <_< Shut up.

New blog

So yup. It's still kind of under construction, but I have a couple stuff up. Check it out: Da Lovely World of Writing

Zagum: You've made ANOTHER blog.
Me: Yup. *no shame*
Lily: Oh! I'm in the convo!
Mimosa: Ack! Me too! *ish excited* >w<
Me: Hey y'all this is Mimosa.
Lily: Mah li'l sista. *noogienoogie*
Mimosa: Ouch.
Taylor: Why aren't I in on the convo? *pout*
Me: Because you'd eat all the cookies.
Violet: Did someone say cookies?
Marth: ...what kind of cookies?
Me: Uh...
Mimosa: Snicker doo--
Lily: SHHHHHH!
Zagum: Snickerdoo? What's snickerdoo?
Taylor: Snicker-doodles... *drool*
Marth: O_O And you didn't tell us?
Me: No! Guys, come on now. I--
Voilet: I love snicker-doodles. *sniff*
Zagum: GIMME
*mobs DLWoW*
Mimosa: *sob* All my beautiful cookies... gone!
Lily: Ah well. We'll make more.
Voilet: I'll help!
Me: I've never even had snicker-doodles...
*horrified silence*

I've never been good at writing poems

And this kind of bothers me because I absolutely adore poetry.

Not all poetry, mind you, but some of it is amazing.

(For instance:)

Recently, I've been reading A. A. Milne's 'When We Were Very Young' and I must say, if you haven't read his writing, you really should.

You have to.

Well, not really.

You're not going to die or anything if you don't.

But you should. 

Anywho.

I must say that mostly my favorite poems are the somewhat nonsensical ones.

For instance, I've memorized Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky poem.

My favorites of A. A. Milne's are 'Happiness', 'The Four Friends' and 'Halfway Down'. I think I like a lot of his because some of them don't quite flow perfectly. His poems somehow always inspire me that way.

So now,
I've wrote
two poems-
not one
but two.
They're not
amazing poems
but they
will have
to do.

Ooh. I came up with that on the spot.
Moving on:

Raining

Pitter, patter
all the clatter
on the window pane.

Ping, pong
all the song
going down the lane.

Pound, pound
all the sound
driving me insane!

Why can't
          I go
               outside?

I'm not quite purfickly happy with this one. But I s'pose I like it. If you have any ideas on how I could make it better, feel free to leave a comment.

Far Away

Down, down
at the edge of town
is a long,
            dirt
                road.

Down, down
at the end of the road
is a big,
          green
               toad.

Long is the road,
green is the toad,
down at the edge
                    of town.

This one I'm pretty happy with. It was fun to write, it it is kind of what I was going for. Once again, if you have any ideas for improvements, lemme know.

I got this stuff simply from reading Milne's poems and, well, trying to mimic them. I'm rather proud.
Rather.
I like that word.

Happiness

John had
Great Big
Waterproof
Boots on;
John had a
Great Big
Waterproof
Hat;
John had a
Great Big
Waterproof
Mackintosh --
And that
(Said John)
Is
That.

     ~ A. A. Milne

Ivy and Thorn - Part 3

"Thorn-Finger," Ivy said suddenly as she popped the last piece of bacon in to her mouth. "I need to use the rest room."
"Go then." Thorn-Finger motioned to-ward the rest-room impatiently, unwilling to leave his delicious food for even a second.
The girl went off, unaffected by his brisk words, and Thorn-Finger was able to finished his buttery pancakes.
Ivy had still not come back by then, but something made him look up and out the window.
Bubba's eyes met his. The huge man was easy to spot, even in the crowded street. He looked tired and beaten. Bubba tossed his knife in the air and traced a line across his throat with his thumb.
Thorn-Finger nodded. He understood. He had to run.
Jumping up, he ran to the woman's bath room. He stopped at the door. "Ivy?" He knocked.
No answer.
A little louder: "Ivy?"
Please let Bubba not have found her, he thought.
"Yes?" Came the little girl's voice.
"We need to go."
"Be right there." The sound of shuffling hands and feet.
Thorn-Finger glanced through the window. Bubba was crossing the street. "Ivy-"
A woman pushed passed him out the door.
"Be right there!" The sound of rushing water.
"No, Ivy. Now!" Thorn-Finger knocked again.
The large man had made it to the sidewalk. He wasn't looking towards the rest-rooms.
"Coming!" Ivy emerged.
She had hardly taken one step out side the rest-room when Thorn-Finger grabbed her hand and ran for the back exit.
"But we have not paid!" Ivy insisted.
Pulling her down the back alley, he huffed. "No time!"
As soon as they made it out of town, they once again took to the trees. They ran until Ivy finally complained: "I am tired. I do not think I could walk another step." And with that she slipped her hand from his and sprawled out on the mossy ground.
It struck Thorn-Finger that the little girl had take all the excitement very well. Most girls would have started to cry. But Ivy was not like most girls. Instead of shying away from anything strange of dangerous, the odd and adventurous attracted this little girl. Instead of pink dresses, this girl wore leather jackets and combat boots.
No, this girl was anything but ordinary.
"Was there trouble, Thorn-Finger?"
It took him a moment to realize she had spoken.
"Yes."
But she was already asleep, even though the sun was still high in the sky.

Why does tap water from the bathroom taste better than tap water from the kitchen?

This is not just my imagination. I have mentioned this to a handful of people that freak out and say with triumph: "I knew I wasn't the only one!" And then we get into a very animated discusion on why we think it is that way.
Now, I have a couple theories about this, so hear me out.

Firstly, I have heard that you bathroom water pipes are often closest to the main water source, and therefore, because they travel a smaller distance through the pipes, it tastes better, You know, less like water pipes, backed up sewage and such.

I also think, possibly, that all that hand cleaning that goes on some how cleans the pipes and makes the water taste fresher and cleaner. Then again, if that was the case, our bathroom water might taste a little like soap.
Or maybe, because of all the yucky stuff that happens in bathrooms, more chlorine  is some how added to the water and that makes it taste cleaner. Then again, maybe chlorine doesn't actually taste all that great.

But maybe it isn't the bathroom water that tastes better, but the kitchen water that tastes worse. You know all that left over meat loaf that no one ends up eating or the vegetables you know you should eat but you some how manage to fill you stomach before you get to them? Maybe they some how get backed up into the system!

Of course, not everyone shares my opinion on tap water. My mother, for instance, doesn't like bathroom water. She thinks it's perhaps because the sink happens to be right next to the toilet.
But who knows? This is one of life's great mysteries that may never be solved.

Ivy and Thorn - Part 2

Thorn Finger hitch hiked his way out of London and soon found him self walking along side a quiet road from there on.
An occasional car passed and the sun would peek out from behind the grey clouds now and then, though it did not not rain.
Absentmindedly, Thorn Finger took a match from his pocket, lit it and popped it into his mouth.
A van rolled up beside him. The window rolled down.
"Need a lift, Fire Eater?" Asked a gruff, mocking voice.
Thorn Finger calmly spat out the match--unharmed--before turning to the driver. He had no doubt that this giant of a man could rip him limb from limb.
His hands were as large as melons, his shoulders broad and muscular.
"Hallo, Bubba." Thorn Finger said, though his heart beat faster and his legs screamed at him to run. It was not that he was especially afraid of the man, he just wasn't overly fond of what followed.
"The boss wants you to pay up." Bubba rubbed the back of his prickly shaved head and sneered.
Thorn Finger sighed. "I have told you many times before. I do not have it yet."
Bubba took out a knife and began to clean under his finger nails with it. "Well you had better get it soon or I may be tempted to carve a couple more designs in that pretty face of yours."
"Give me more time, Bubba." Thorn Finger pleaded. "I just need more time."
Lifting his knife, Bubba seemed to cut imaginary lines through the air, pondering.
"Fine." He said finally. "But the boss will not be happy. I do not know how much longer I can cut you so much slack, though. You are running out of time, Fire Eater."
With that, Bubba rolled up the window and the van roared away.
"You will not be sorry!" Thorn Finger called after it.
He is going to be so sorry, he thought to him self.

The sun was beginning to set when Thorn Finger ducked in to the wood that ran along side the road.
After starting a fire, he sat down to a dinner of canned soup.
Waif ran off into the night to find a meal of her own.
"Everything I eat is canned." Thorn Finger complained to him self. "Canned soup, canned beans, canned fish, canned fruit."
A twig snapped. He was not alone. Waif could not have made so much noise, and there was no way some on as large as Bubba could have snuck up on him like that.
"Who is there?" He called in to the darkness of the trees.
A shadow came in to view. A small shadow.
Thorn Finger sighed. He had almost managed to forget about her.
Almost.

Ivy stepped into the fire light.
The man with the scars looked at her with something like respective annoyance. "How did you managed to follow me?" He asked.
Ivy shrugged and dug at the ground with her leather boot. "It was not hard really, to get away from the ticket lady. Then I just took a taxi north." She held up a leather wallet. "Thorn Finger." She mused. "What kind of name is that?"
Thorn Finger patted his pockets in surprise.
Tossing him his wallet, Ivy sat down across the fire from the strange man.
Thorn Finger counted the money then slid it safely--or not--in to his pocket. "You owe me." He said, shooting her a meaningful glare.
Ivy simply shrugged. Her stomach complained loudly. She tried oh-so-hard not to stare a Thorn Finger's can of soup, but in the end she could not help her self and he handed her the can.
Then he sat ignoring her, hypnotized by the flames as she ate.
Once she had finished, she began to repeat something Thorn Finger had said only minutes earlier, only changed it a little and added a tune.
"Canned beans, canned soup;
Canned fish, canned fruit.
That's all he ever gets to eat;
Canned beans, canned fruit."
Thorn Finger smiled for the first time. She could not tell if it was amused, forced, or just awkward.
"You really must come with me?" He asked.
Ivy nodded. "Yes."
Thorn Finger sighed. "If you get hurt, do not blame me."
"I will not." Ivy said, though she wondered what kind of trouble the strange man could be in.

Ivy awoke the next morning to a leathery tongue on her face. "Hallo, Waif."
Placing the furry, white animal beside her, Ivy sat up, stretched her sore muscles and looked around.
Thorn Finger was not there.
But he could not have left her, she decided, because he had left his things and Waif.
Sure enough, Thorn Finger soon returned.
"You are awake."
"Yes."
"There's some breakfast for you by my pack."
It was canned fruit.
At this Ivy began to sing.
"Canned beans, canned soup;
canned fish, canned fruit;
That's all we ever get to eat;
Canned fish, canned fruit."
Thorn Finger did not say any thing, only threw some dirt over the remains of the fire.
"Are we leaving now?" Ivy asked, watching him.
"Yes."
"May I carry Waif?"
"If she does not mind."
"Do you think she will?"
"I do not know. Now shut up and eat your pears."
"I do not think she will." Ivy mumbled, finishing off the can. Handing Thorn Finger the tin, she picked up Waif and placed the ferret in her leather ruck sack. The little critter did not protest.
Thorn Finger watched her with shielded jealousy and respect.
Waif must not do this for him, Ivy thought.
Thorn Finger turned away and headed in to the trees.
"Wait!" Ivy hurried after him. "Where are you going? The road is that way." She pointed.
"Yes, but we are not using the road."
"Why ever not?"
"It is too dangerous."
"Oh?"
"Yes."
"Oh."
She did not say any thing after that for quite some time.
"Does that frighten you?" Thorn Finger asked, some what hopefully.
Ivy shook her head. "Not 'specially." She paused. "What kind of trouble are you in mister?"
Thorn Finger did not answer, only said after some time: "Do not call me that."

"Thorn Finger." Ivy said suddenly. "I need to use the toilet."
"What?" Thorn Finger asked, having not really been paying attention.
"I need to go PEE." Ivy said.
"Go then." He said. "In a bush some where." He could tell that she was reluctant, but she put on a brave face and went.
Thorn Finger waited.
"What do I use to um, wipe?" The little girl called.
"Use a leaf or some thing." Thorn Finger called back, some what red in the face.
So this is what if feels like to be a parent or guardian, he thought to him self.
Ivy finished up and the unlikely pair was off again.

It was not yet lunch time when they arrived at a little town. There seemed to be a market set up along the main strip and Ivy insisted on stopping at every thing he saw.
She smelled the flowers, she tasted the food samples and she played with the noise makers.
"Please stop." Thorn Finger begged finally. "It is so hard to do any thing when you are whizzing about."
"Can not we buy some food though?" Ivy pleaded.
"No."
"Why not?" She whined.
"It is much too expensive and it does not last long."
"But it looks so GOOD." The little girl pleaded and pouted, but Thorn Finger would not give in.
"All right." Ivy said finally, wiping away tears. They had only just moved on when Ivy went on. "But I would like know. Why DO you only eat canned beans, canned soup, canned--"
"I get it."
"--if you hate it so much?"
"I did not say I hated it."
"All right then, dislike it."
"Because it last long, and it is cheep. Why do you ask?" Thorn Finger asked impatiently.
"Because there is a pancake house over there advertising free kids meals." Ivy counted on her fingers. "That is nothing for me, and plus I owe you for the taxi and train."
Thorn Finger did not have to smell the syrup and bacon twice. "Come on now, we haven't got all day."
"Only lunch." Ivy agreed, skipping after him.
Only later did her realize she had gotten him to do exactly as she had wanted.

Total word count: 2,276

Goal: 40,000

HotSM Characters - The Pack - Physical Atributes Concepts

I used dreamself.me

Lily: ...What's up with the giant mushrooms?
Me: Backgrounds are very limited.
Lily: I see.
Violet: What about me?
Me: I did you too:

Violet: ...Why do I have books?
Me: It just fit. Plus you like to read and keep your pack's sacred book thing.
Violet: I see.
Taylor: Aren't you forgetting someone?

Taylor: I ROCK! >w<
Me: Sure.
Zagum: What about me?

Zagum: ...Seriously? I wouldn't wear those clothes, I shave thanyouverymuch and my eyes are black, not blue.
Me: I know right? Dream Selfy just couldn't capture your awesomeness. *eyeroll*
Zagum: Well when you put it that way.... *pose*
Marth: ...
Me: Oh don't worry Marthie, we didn't forget about you!

Marth: O____________O
Lily:  o///o
Zagum: BWAHAHAHA
Me: Oh, oopsies! Wrong file. My bad.
Marth: Gimme that! *grabs mouse*
Me: Hey, no!
Marth: This is what I think of that! *clickclackclikityclak*

Me: *sigh* Really, Marth?
Marth: What? You don't like the ferret? Fine, I'll change it to a bunny.
Me: No! Just... gimme that.

Me: There.
Marth: What is up with my hair?
Zagum: He looks awful.
Taylor: He looks like a Twilight Vampire.
Violet: I think he looks handsome.
Lily: Me too.
Marth: ...
Me: That's all. I don't have time for Rocky and Truette.
Rocky: Aha.
Truette: *smug*
Zagum: Hey, no fair! We have to have this treatment and they get off easy?
Marth: WHAT IS THIS?
Zagum: YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!! I CAN'T--

*click*

Cyber Kitty Girl

Samster and I made this together using Dream Selfy. =3

I moustache you a question...

but I will shave it for later.

This is my hand.

With a moustache stamped onto it.
And then I drew a spectacle on it.

I made the stamp out of an eraser.
Like this:

Not my tutorial.

Sadly, I had to make mine with a cheap japanese sushi eraser and it still doesn't work that great. And my knife was kind of dull.

I never thought I'd see the day...

I've watched The Avengers a couple times. It's great, I love the action, yadda yadda yadda.
But I didn't get why so many girl were fangirling over Loki. "HE'S EVIL." I said.
Just a couple days ago I watched Thor. Twice.
I'm not going to beat around the bush.
Loki's awesome.
I could give you a long list of well-thought-out and scientific reasons why he's so amazing, but I wont waste my breath.

Instead, here's some super-fun GIF's:

  

Oh yeah. What can I say?

I must make one thing clear though.
For the record, I come at this somewhat from a writer's perspective.
Like:
"Oh my poptarts, Loki is so well written and I see the reasons why he is such a loved character. (i.e. somewhat undeserved misfortune; tragic backtory; etc.)"
Yup.
Just wanna put that out there.


*rant over*

The Visitor

This is my first REAL try at drawing with my tablet.

I am very proud of the bubble. =3

Ivy and Thorn - part 1

I'm doing Camp NaNoWriMo. I've started a little early.

Thorn Finger placed his belongings at the bottom of his rucksack and swung the bag over is shoulder.
"That was a cool show." Said a voice.
Thorn Finger spun around, startled.
In front of him stood a little girl. She wore a brown leather jacket and combat boots, but despite her rugged appearance, she wore jean shorts and a blouse, her red hair tied up with a large cream bow.
She looks to be around nine he thought, but where are her parents?
He glanced around for any sign of  any over protective parents, but none showed to punch his scarred face in.
"I am Ivy." The girl thrust out a hand. "I am eleven years old."
Thorn Finger hesitantly took her small hand in his bigger one and shook it.
Her deep green eyes bore into him. Confident and searching, they seemed to examine every inch of him from his sandy hair down to his worn boots.
She is very wise and short for her age, he decided.
Adjusting the cloth pack slung over her tiny shoulders she looked him up and down again just for good measure. "What you did was pretty neat." She stated rather factually. "Do you think you could teach me how?"
"Breath fire?" Thorn Finger finally spoke. "It takes time and practice." He shook his head.
"I have time." Ivy said airily. "Where are you headed?"
"North." Shifting from foot to foot,  he glanced around anxiously for the girls parents. Surely they didn't want their little daughter talking to a stranger. Much less one that hadn't shaved for a month and breathed fire.
"North?" Ivy exclaimed. "Really?" That is where I'm going too! I will travel with you."
"What?" Thorn Finger shouted in dismay. "No, go home."
Frowning, she protested: "But I am going the same direction as you are--to visit my aunt." The last bit sounded like an after thought.
"I am going on foot. Why do not you use the train?" Thorn Finger asked. still unwilling to travel with a child and unable to comprehend any reason some one would want to travel with him.
"Why do not YOU use the train?" Ivy countered, stomping her foot on the road with impatience.
"Where are your parents?" Thorn Finger demanded.
At this Ivy scuffed at the road with her toe. "On vacation in France. They would only just be on the plane by now. I was on my way to the train station when I saw you and stopped to watch the show. Oh and by the by, where did your ferret run off to?"
"Too find some lunch," He explained. "But you are not under any circumstances coming with me."
"Yes I am and you can't stop me." She stomped her foot with stubborn determination.
Thorn Finger trie very hard in every way to convince her other wise, but the silly girl would not be swayed.
Fine, he thought irritably, I will just have to force her to stay.
He thought about running, but that did not seem very nice, and if she ran after him, she may get lost. London was huge and noisy and dangerous for a little girl. He considered taking her to the police station but the idea didn't appeal to him in any which way and it seemed rather harsh considering the girl had no nearby family to take her. Plus her aunt would be waiting for her.
Having made up his mind, Thorn Finger purposely walked off down the road.
"Wait!" Ivy bawled, chasing after him. "Where are you going? North is that way."
"I just need to drop something off first." He whistled to his ferret and the furry little thing emerged from the bushes. "Come on now, Waif." Climbing up the man's out stretched arm the ferret slipped into Thorn Fingers pack and poked it's head out to hiss at Ivy.
"May I pet her?" Ivy asked, almost in reply,
Thorn Finger shot her an irritated look. "What makes you think that it's a female?"
Ivy ignore him. "May I?"
"No." He almost snapped, "She bites."
"So it IS a she?"
"Don't talk to me."
The two wound their way through the busy streets of London.
"Why are we here?" Ivy asked when she had spotted the train station.
Thorn Finger glanced at her warily. "I told you, I Have some business here to take care of. Do you still want to follow me?"
He hoped she would go away, for she surely knew what he planned to do. She was no fool, that he could see.
But she looked at him determinedly and shook her head. She would not let him out of her sight, knowing he would run off as soon as he had the chance.
Instead, she followed him inside.
She marched behind him right up to the ticket counter. She did not bolt when he asked for a child's fare.
However, when he asked her where her aunt lived, she would not tell him.
"One ticket to Birmingham. He said to the lady clerk.
Ivy simply raised her eye brows.
Giving a shrug he thought to him self: Birmingham just seems like a likely place for an aunt to live.
As he took the ticket from the lady he added: "Oh and can you get someone to watch over the girl? I have to be on my way."

"Sure. I'll even do it." The young blonde batted her eye lashes at him and her some what self consciously traced the three scars that ran down his cheek.

Inviting Ivy behind the counter with her, the lady assured Thorn Finger in the most lengthy and un-assuring way that the "little darling" would be in safe hands until the train arrived.

Thorn Finger only nodded his thanks, thinking to him self, the way she carries on, Ivy will have gone before she could even finish one sentence. Ah well.

Ivy gave him a pitiful look as he left and a feeling of regret stabbed him in the heart.

I can not afford to take care of a little girl, he reprimanded him self. Besides, she would not be safe with me.

No she would not.

What do you think? My word goal is 40,000.

Estimate word count: 983

Helpful blogging tips

Ten Important Things Pioneer Woman Has Learned About Blogging

Thought y'all might find this useful. =3

Mint and Zoey - Chapter 2 - Part 3

Zoey

"Are you sure you have everything?" Zoey asked Mint for the third time.
"Yup!" His adopted sister skipped in circles around him.
"You've got your clothes, blanket, water, snacks, your books, notepad, did you remember your special hair bow?"
Zoey went through the list and Mint replied to each one with a chipper "Check!"
Crystal came out of the house and walked towards them through the drifts of dead leaves. "Did you remember Thorvald?" She asked holding out the plush toy.
"Thorvy-bear!" Mint gasped.
The poor pony still wore the frilly pink dress.
Tucking the animal into her rucksack, Mint strung the pack over her shoulders and smiled at Zoey. "Now I'm ready. Were should we start?"
"Follow the lake." Crystal suggested.
"Why do you say that?" Zoey asked and immediately thought he may have sounded a little suspicious.
Crystal looked offended and he mentally winced. "Because it's the best place to situate anything. Plus, we'll have remotely clean drinking water.
"Sounds good to me." Mint offered.
Zoey only nodded and brushed past her. "Put on your jacket, Mint. Winter's on it's was and we can't afford for you to get sick."
Mint frowned and looked hurt, and Zoey immediately wished he could take it back. "Sorry." He muttered. "Want a horsey ride?"
Mint's face broke into a wide grin. "That's okay and yes please!"
Swinging the girl onto his shoulders they set off. Through the forest stained with fall colors they treked.
Their adventure had begun.

Mint and Zoey - Chapter 2 - Part 2

Since RHRP is finally finished and I promised my little sister I'd keep writing Mint and Zoey once I was done, here it is:



See what has happened up until now...




     Mint

Running through the hallways of the remote forest manor, shaggy hair and frilly skirts flying, Mint burst into Zoey's bedroom.
"Look what I made!" She screamed, sending Zoey toppling out of his bed in fright. "It's a kitty." She announced, thrusting a carved apple into his face.
"Don't DO that." Zoey exclaimed, clutching his chest.
"Sorry," Mint said hurriedly, examining her apple. "Crystal helped me make him. Do you think I should name him? I want to, but then I'm afraid I'll like him too much to eat him. I'm gonna ask Madona." 
Spinning on her bare heel, she dashed out of the room.
"You do that!" She heard Zoey call after her.
About to burst in Madona's room, Mint stopped abruptly and though better of it, remembering the look on Zoey's face when she crashed into his room and startled him awake. 
She gently pushed over the old woman's door.
"Madona?" Mint tiptoed to her bedside. "Are you awake?"
The little girl placed a hand on the woman's shoulder.
With a gasp, she jumped back as if stung. A bitter cold surrounded her. She had seen this before, and she knew it all to well. The whole scene was a horrible deja-vu.
She wanted to scream, but at first, no sound came.
"Zoey!"
Her memories had come back to haunt her.

     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After comforting the traumatized Mint, Zoey and Crystal buried the loving woman next to her husband.
Since they had no gravestone, they carved a note into some wood and placed it over the grave.
It read:

Madona

Loving Wife, kind friend, forever remembered.

A couple of days later, a crude but beautiful carving appeared on the headstone. I suspect Crystal had something to do with it, but when Zoey asked Mint what she thought, the little girl hadn't said a word about it.

     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*


Zoey

"What now?" Mint's question had been whispered so quietly that Zoey had hardly caught it.
Placing his bowl of steaming soup on the kitchen table, he sat down on one of the four mismatched wooden chairs. "I don't know." With I sigh, he ran his finger's through his rust-colored hair.
It had been almost a week since Madona had died. The three had gone through the motions, and Zoey knew Mint had tried to hide her crying at night. Crystal had been unusually solemn and quite, and none of them ever felt like doing much of anything.
"We can't stay here forever." Mint's bright eyes met his. Once again she had stated the very thought he had been so hesitant to say.

"Why not?" Crystal sat across from Zoey, her two toned eyes met his. "We have food, we have shelter,"
"But the chickens and cow will die, and crops may fail," Mint pointed out miserably. "This house is very old and already falling apart. Someone's got to have known there was an old lady living out here, and if they come looking, they'll find us and a dead woman." Dropping her idle spoon, she rested her chin on balled fists. "And besides, we still have something to finish."
Zoey caught her meaningful look. 'She's way beyond her years,' he thought, stirring is soup, deep in thought. 'and she's right. We can't stay here forever. Mint and I, we have business to finish.' Finally he pushed back his chair and stood.
"Mint and I want to find the one that killed our parents'. We will leave as soon as we're ready." Pausing at the door, Zoey said over his shoulder: "Where ever you decide to go, Crystal, is up to you."
The girl was silent at first, then: "You haven't touched your soup."
"I'm not hungry."

Mint

"There." Putting on the last touches, Mint stepped back to admire her work. "You look absolutely stunning, Thorvald dear." She patted the small, raggedy plush horse on the head. The old brown thing wore a pastel pink doll dress.
"Isn't "Thorvald dear" a boy?" Tossing a shirt on to the pile of things he would pack, Zoey emerged from the closet, a quizzical look on his face.
Mint smiled wide. "Yes, but he was misbehaving earlier this morning and I thought this would be the best way to punish him."
Zoey laughed and ruffled her blue-green hair. "That is certainly the worst punishment I could imagine."
"Well, killing him would be much too--"
Crystal walked into the room and plopped a bag onto Zoey's bed. Her jaw was set; hand on hip.
"What's this?" The other two asked, Mint jumping up to see what was inside the bag.
"My things." The girl explained with finality. "I'm coming with you."
Mint looked to Zoey, wondering what the older boy would think. His face was unreadable.
"Okay. When can you be ready?" He asked evenly.
"Whenever you are." Crystal looked at Zoey, daring him to refuse her.
Mint glanced back and forth between the two. When neither said anything, she smiled. "Yay."

Lemme know what you think!

Goodbye RHRP, Hello HotSM

Red-Haired Runaway Princess is finally finished. That means it's time to say goodbye.


Me (Sophie/Sprinkles): Miss you! *sob*

Britt Aeryn: Bye!

Aurum: Whatever. *grin*

Solomon, Ace, Quinn, Lucy, Lowla, etc. : Bye!

Lord Falco: Don't be that way. *grump* You have no reason to be sad, because you're not the one--

Sophie: DON'T SAY IT! *stuffs cotton wads down Falco's throat* YOU'LL GIVE AWAY THE ENDING. >:D
*sob* T^T I love you all! *choke*

RHRP charries: *exits, dragging multiple bags, belongings, suitcases, sheep, etc.*

~~~  (< Squiggly =3)

HotSM charries: *enters*

Lily: Hasn't changed much...

Zagum: Yo peeps! We're back in town!

Violet: I've missed you so!  T^T

Sophie: I've missed you too!  T^T

Marth: *scuffs toe* ...nice to see you again...

Sophie: HE SPEAKS. O.O
*flail* I loveyou toooooo! *glomp*

Marth: ...Get off me.

Taylor: Ack! I'm so stoked to be back!

Rocky: ...

Sophie: *gaspeth* Who's this one?

Violet: That's Rocky. *whisper* His identity is a secret.

Sophie: Oooooh, aaaaah...

Rocky: ...shutup.

Sophie: You know, it seems like I've seen your before. You look very familiar...

Rocky: ...You haven't.

Truette: Hey.

Sophie: AGH! *jumps onto nearby table* O.O ANOTHER NEW ONE?

Taylor: That's Truette. *whisperwhisper* No one knows much about him.

Sophie: *climbs off table to inspect newcomer* Oooooh, aaaaah...

Truette: Don't touch me.

Sophie: Umph. *pouts* All these newbies are grumpy.

Truette: Bite me.

Character Development

Okay, so I found this on Pinterest as well:

Character Name:

Age:

Appearance:

1. What do you know about this character now that s/he doesn't yet know?

2. What is this character's greatest flaw?

3. What do you know about this character that s/he would never admit?

4. What is this character's greatest asset?

5. If this Character could choose a different identity, who would s/he be?

6. What music doe this character sing to when no one else is around?

7. In what or whom does this character have the greatest faith?

8. What is this character's favorite movie?

9. Does this character have a favorite article of clothing? Favorite shoes?

10. Does this character have a vice? Name it.

11. Name this character's favorite person. (Living or dead)

12.What is this character's secret wish?

13. What is this character's proudest achievement? 

14. Describe this character's most embarrassing moment.

15. What is this character's deepest regret?

16. What is this character's greatest fear?

17.  Describe this character's most devastating moment.

18. What is this character's greatest achievement? 

19. What is this character's greatest hope?

20. Does this character have an obsession? Name it.

21. What is this character's greatest disappointment?

22. What is this character's  worst nightmare?

23. Whom does this character most wish to please? Why?

24. Describe this character's mother.

25. Describe this character's father.

26. If s/he had to choose, with whom would this character would this character prefer to live?

27. Where does this character fall in birth order? What effect does this have?

28. Describe this character's siblings or other close relatives.

29. Describe this character's bedroom. Include three cherished items.

30. What is this character's birth date? Hoes does this character manifest traits of his/her astrological sign?

31. If this character had to live in seclusion for six months, what six items would s/he bring?

32. WHy is this character angry?

33. What calm this character?

34. Describe a recurring dream of nightmare this character might have.

35. List the choices (not circumstances) that led this character to his/her current predicament.

36. List the circumstances over which this character has no control.

37. What wakes this character in the middle of the night?

38. How would a stranger describe this character?

39.  What does this character resolve to do differently every morning?

40. Who depends on this character? Why?

41. If this character knew s/he had exactly one month to live, what would s/he do?

42. How would a dear friend of relative describe this character?

43. What is this character's most noticeable physical attribute?

44. What is this character hiding from his/herself?

45. Write one additional thing about your character.

100 Questions to Ask Before Writing Your Novel

I stumbled upon this on Pinterest. Thought y'all might find it useful.

100 questions to ask before you write your novel.

1. Who is your main character? Hero? Anti-hero?
2. Why should we be interested in them?
3. What attracts you to your protagonist? Do you like them? Loathe them?
4. Why do you need to write about them?
5. Why should we be excited about them?
6. Why do you believe we will find your hero sympathetic? Empathetic?
7. What makes us curious about them? What is their “mystery”? What is their “magic”? Charisma? How do you show it?
8. What does the audience find in the main character’s story that is relevant to them? Why do you believe they will identify with them?
9. What is the cherished secret desire of your main character?
10. Do we laugh at your hero, feel amused by them, or do we admire them?
11. What do we hope for?
12. What are we afraid of?
13. What is the worst thing that could (and hopefully will) happen to your hero?
14. What is the most favorable, brightest moment that they will experience in the story?
15. What are they going to lose if they don’t find a way to overcome the adversities?
16. Why can’t your characters get what they crave?
17. How can you make the obstacles – inner or exterior – more insurmountable?
18. How can you make the threat, the danger, more excruciating, agonizing, humiliating? Who can do that? Why should they?
19. Why can’t your characters live at peace with their conscience, respect themselves if they don’t get what they so passionately want?
20. And: what is it that your characters want (consciously and tangibly)?
21. On the other hand: what do your characters need (on the emotional, subconscious level)?
22. How can you make the temptations more irresistible and the stakes higher?
23. What can you do to eliminate the audience’s disbelief in the initial situation or collision (willing suspension of disbelief)?
24. Is there a deadline (time pressure) for the action to come to a resolution? Could there be? Who can create it?
25. When and how do your main characters realize that they are in trouble and that they must extricate themselves?
26. What are the alternatives you can imagine? How can the problem be solved?
27. But why is it impossible? Who or what makes the solution unattainable?
28. Can the predicament be evaded? What would happen if it were? Who makes the evasion impossible?
29. Can the complication be ridiculed, ignored, forgotten? Make sure that it cannot!
30. Can it be solved peacefully on friendly terms? Who will impair it?
31. Who are the supporting characters your main character can rely upon?
32. Who are the supporting characters your protagonist hopes to get on their side?
33. What doesn’t your hero anticipate, know about?
34. What does your hero – falsely – expect that won’t happen?
35. Who are the supporting characters who are a threat, who try to humiliate, stop, ridicule, or destroy your hero’s plans? Do they know about the secret desires that your hero cherishes?
36. What are their plans? What tactics do they use? What mimicry, what subterfuge? How do they try to mislead, misdirect, confuse the main character?
37. What are their hopes, desires, dreams? What do they want and need?
38. How do they rationalize their moves?
39. How can their stubbornness, hatred, rage, damaged self-esteem, ambition be fueled? What can help them to feel righteous in their actions?
40. Will the audience understand why your characters act as they do?
41. When does the audience get to know your characters’ particular intentions, desires, hopes, and fears?
42. How can the next step that your protagonist makes lead to the unexpected result? What’s the miscalculation?
43. What did the counter player do? How did the circumstances change?
44. How can the goal be made more desirable? Who can do that?
45. What can create the hesitations, doubts, or scruples in the character’s mind?
46. Try to imagine all the places, locations, sites that your character can enter in pursuit of their objective or evasion of the danger. Aren’t there some more interesting situations there? More contradictory?
47. How can the locales make the story and the specific scenes or sequences more dramatic, more complicated and difficult (therefore, more revealing) for the characters?
48. Make a list of possible events that can happen believably and plausibly in your chosen environment and a list of possible events that would be unusual, out of routine, and order. Do you see which ones will work best?
49. What are the emotions, conclusions, and decisions that result from the setback, failure, or complication?
50. What emotions does the insult, mistreat, injustice evolve? What danger, what abyss becomes visible for the viewer that the hero doesn’t see?
51. What are our expectations now? What do we hope for? What do we wish the characters would do? Why can’t they do it?
52. What doesn’t the main character know? What is the error, intentional blunder?
53. Do the antagonists mobilize their forces? Do they set a trap? Do they try to confuse the main character?
54. What are the social reasons for their actions? Do they come with accusations? Direct lies? Do they outwit the main character? How?
55. Does the hero panic? Feel alarmed? Insecure? Horrified from the realization of what could happen?
56. And what happens that helps the protagonist? On the other hand, what can help the antagonist?
57. What characters can act as catalysts that can alter and increase the reactions of the antagonist or protagonist?
58. What character (or characters) can go through a similar plight and find a different solution – compromise, assimilation, rejection etc.?
59. What relationships become threatened, broken up, or suddenly transformed?
60. What consequences of the previous actions can aggravate the situation?
61. What are the places your characters don’t want to go? Are afraid to go? How do you force them there?
62. What is the prevailing mood/tone of the whole story? Does the environment have a face, character, and temperament?
63. Does the time period reflect on the environment? How? What expresses it besides costumes, props, architecture and means of transportation and communication? How does it reflect our human attitudes, habits, customs, social events, rituals, and language?
64. Are the events sufficiently important and impressionable? Do they help to elucidate the life style, engagement, and involvement of your protagonist?
65. Does the main hero show naiveté, weakness? Disbelief? Re-evaluate everything?
66. Do your hero regret? Recriminate? Seek conciliation? Reject the original plans?
67. Did you exhaust all the possibilities of self-assurance, shrewdness, and foresightedness that your hero can possess?
68. Did you give your antagonists a chance to show their intelligence, vigilance, and alertness?
69. What precautions do your characters take? Do they look for advice? For help?
70. What new plans do they come up with? How do they acquire new courage? What or who can suggest a new stratagem for them?
71. How does your hero study the adversary? Does your protagonist discover the weakness of the antagonist? Or are they wrong in their assumption? What trap can both sides set?
72. How can they attack each other? How can your hero test the enemy?
73. How does inner turmoil grow in their minds? How does it embitter the antagonism?
74. What do you feel is the rhythm of the story? Does the tempo of the main action accelerate?
75. What can interrupt, temporarily stop, misdirect, or confuse the growing conflict?
76. Are the chances for the desired resolution and for the despised outcome equal?
77. What is the moment that the viewer becomes ultimately curious about?
78. What does the audience impatiently expect?
79. What doesn’t the audience realize will happen when the moment comes?
80. Is the resolution becoming inevitable? What could reverse the course of the action? Did the hero try all the possible ways and means and find out what they inevitably lead to?
81. What hopes still remain for the main character?
82. What are the most feared confrontations that the protagonist tries – in vain, obviously – to avoid, postpone, deny?
83. What is the most humiliating, painful extremity your hero will experience?
84. What is the moment when your antagonist feels triumphant?
85. How can you increase the adversary’s determination not to give up, not to show any restrain, to fight to the bitter end?
86. How can bad – or good – timing heighten the stakes (too early, too late, speeding up the plans, etc…)?
87. When does the hero realize the inevitability of the outcome? Can an appeal be made to the antagonist’s better nature?
88. Can the fear of shame or disgrace of losing one’s face be used?
89. How did the circumstances change to make the outcome more weighty, impressive, convincing?
90. Does anybody admit the errors?
91. Does anybody plead, beg forgiveness, or confess?
92. Is anybody willing to give up?
93. Is anybody trying to escape?
94. Does anybody feel shame, disgrace, insecurity, betraying one’s most cherished principles?
95. Does anybody feel terror stricken of being exposed?
96. Is there a rescue for any of the adversaries? Is this possible? For what price?
97. Is there a moment when a conscience stricken character realizes the consequences of their actions, sees themselves truly and rightly, and tries to stop the inevitable?
98. What is the last thing the main character finds out about?
99. What does “victory” mean after the whole story is over?
100. How should the viewer/audience feel when the story ends?