Friday, August 29, 2014

Curse You For Loving Me

Hello, dearies!

There's so much going on in this thing called life right now, and I've unfortunately fallen terribly behind on blogging and the like.

Church and friends, family and traveling, books and writing and music. Mostly some new friends I've just met this week, a more than likely move to Florida (the state which I despise), and The Book Thief. Yes, I caved. I couldn't stand it any more. I had to read it again. Especially after that movie... whatever that was.

But, since I've been suddenly absent, I decided I'd give you all a taste of part two of the fanfic I've written. I've only just begun working on it, but I'm determined to finish it before September 28. Because there's no way I'm writing more of this particular fanfic after the next episode comes out. I just couldn't do it, because it would no longer be accurate. I hate deviations. Usually.

I'm probably going to edit this later, but here you are:

Robin loved Regina, he really did. But now, the woman who had been his first wife and the mother of his child had come back from the past - literally. What was he supposed to make of that? 
"Regina-" he begin, taking a step toward her. 
"Don't you 'Regina' me," she snapped. 
Marian watched this, confused, then spoke before Regina could continue. "Robin, I don't understand. Who is this woman?" 
Robin sighed. "Marian, I've thought you dead for years-" 
"What are you saying?" 
"I'm saying that since you've been gone, I've come to love this woman." 
"So what you're saying is that you no longer love me." 
"Of course I do!" Robin paused. "You were dead, Marian. How can you fault me for loving again?"

Any thoughts? Tell me or don't. I'm just hoping I can write Robin and Marian as true-to-character as I seem to have last time. I don't know them nearly as well as I know the characters in part one.

The title of this post jumped into my head just now. I'm pretty sure that's what I'll title the fanfic. Thoughts?

Monday, August 18, 2014


Hello, dearies! Today, I have an announcement to make for a friend of mine. Anne-girl from Scribblings is hosting a new blog called Half-Baked! Here's a quick blurb she wrote for it:

Half Baked is a blog dedicated to the art of writing and exploring what goes into a solid story. The blog operates on the principal that most stories are like cake, delicious and scrumptious and all the other cake words that are out there. But just like cake, a story can come out gooey and shaky in the middle, half baked. This blog is meant to help turn awesome ideas into solid, fully baked novels. Stop by on September first to join in the release party. There will be contests and a giveaway and of course virtual cake.

I don't know about you, but I'm definitely excited about this. Head on over and give it a look!

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Giveaways & Plenilune

First, Plenilune! I've been meaning to post about this and add the button to my blog for the longest time.

I really don't know much about this book, but I do know of the author, Jenny Freitag of The Penslayer. Her book, The Shadow Things, is one of Anne-girl's favorite books, and so she (of course) lent me her copy. I don't remember the book too much (I really should read it again), but I do remember that it was good and enjoyable.

All of that to say, Jenny has a new book coming out! Of course, you've figured that out by now. The cover reveal will be posted here (and other places) on October 9th, so be sure to check back!

Next, the first of two giveaways I'm posting about today. Rachel of The Inkpen Authoress is hosting the Half-Dozen Giveaway! The winner will receive one of each of her published works as well as a copy of Eats, Shoots & Leaves by Lynne Truss. This giveaway begins at midnight tonight.

click the button to view Rachel's entry post

Last but not least, the second giveaway is by Miss Wendy of The Midnight Garden. She went to a movie screening of If I Stay and has received a movie tie-in copy of the book and a paperback copy of Where She Went by Gayle Forman for this giveaway!

Click here or on the picture to the left to enter and to read Miss Wendy's post.

Disclaimer: This is not a recommendation. I haven't read these books or done too much research on them. I'm interested in them and the movie, which is why I've entered the giveaway, but other than Miss Wendy's post, the movie trailer, and some other random things I've read/heard about these books, I don't know much about them.

Thursday, August 7, 2014

[title here]

Hello, dearies. Guess what? Today, I'm posting my first ever fan fiction! 

I strongly recommend that you [finish] watch[ing] all three seasons before reading this. If you've seen all three, don't care about spoilers, or don't plan on watching Once, then proceed! Though, if you haven't seen it, it probably won't make any sense.

It occurs exactly at the end of season three, beginning about an instant after Regina tells Emma she better not have brought anything else back [from the past].

Warning!! Spoilers ahead!

Hook got up and took Emma by the arm, pulling her away from the gathering and back outside to the very place he'd just confessed to giving up his ship for her sake.

"What have you done?" he snapped.

Emma was still a bit shell-shocked. Marian? How, why... Hook's words registered and she fumbled to answer them. "I... But I couldn't just... She was going to be executed!"

"If that's how history happened the first time, then that's how it had to happen again. Now, judging by the way things went in there, we've quite possibly got the Evil Queen on our hands again."

"Or hand, in your case," Emma mumbled in response.

"Whatever," Hook sighed. "Swan, the point is, we've—"

"Emma!" Belle interrupted as she approached them, cutting Hook off.

"Belle, what is it?" Emma could see the confusion written across Belle's face.

"It's Rumple," she answered, choking back tears. "I think he's lying to us."

"What do you mean, he's lying to us?" Emma asked, Marian forgotten for the moment.

Belle held up the dagger she was holding. "I tried to use this." She paused. "It isn't working."

Emma groaned. "I'll get David, then we'll go talk to him." She wanted to say more, but not with Belle standing there.

Hook, Belle, Emma, and David stormed into Mr. Gold's shop. Gold himself was behind the counter, his back to them. When he heard the four enter, he finished what he was doing and turned to face them.

"What can I do for you all?" he began, but then he saw Belle's face. "Belle!" he muttered, walking around the counter towards her. "What's the matter?"

"You've been lying to us," Emma stated, ferocity creeping through her voice.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Rumple replied, his hand on Belle's arm. She looked at it but didn't move away.

"You know very well what we mean." Emma gestured to the dagger in Belle's hand. "That dagger is a fake."

"Whatever makes you think that?" he said, spreading his hands out in front of him.

"We used it," Emma answered, then added, "or tried to."

Rumple, shocked at his discovery, looked to Belle. "Belle? I thought you trusted me."

"I thought you trusted me," she responded softly.

"But I do."

"Then why," Belle asked, her voice begging for a better explanation, "did you lie to me? I gave the dagger to you, you didn't have to give it back!"

Gold looked around him at the faces of the others, his hands still spread wide, then back at Belle. She wanted so bad to believe in him still, he could see it in the way her eyes were pleading with him. But there was something else, something he hadn't seen in her before. Her walls were going up, and he had to stop them.

Rumple dropped his arms to his sides. "I killed Zelena."

"Come again?" Hook interjected.

"I killed Zelena," Gold repeated. "I took the real dagger because I knew I couldn't if Belle had it."

"But why—"

"I had to avenge my son!" he shouted, then softened again. "I swore it."

"But why give me a fake?" Belle cried. "You could have just taken it."

Gold looked down. "Because then everyone would have known I killed her."

"You used me."

He looked back up at her. "Belle..."

She didn't respond, just stared at him, tears scrolling down her cheeks, her feet frozen to the ground.

"Belle, I'm so sorry, I really am," Rumple apologized, cupping his hands around Belle's face. This time, she turned away.

"Belle, please." Rumple swallowed before continuing. "Forgive me."

Belle looked up, her eyes a fire. "You proposed to me, and then you used me," she bit off quietly, full of passion.

"Sure, you're sorry," Emma cut in, taking control again. "Maybe we'd believe that if you'd stop lying to us."

David put his hand on Emma's shoulder, quieting her, and looked at Gold. "Where is the dagger?"

"It's locked in the safe with magic. Only I can open it."

"Get it," David instructed.

"And don't even think about pulling any tricks," Emma said viciously.

"Emma." David looked at her reprovingly.

Gold held his hands up as he walked behind the counter and opened the safe. He ran his hand above the box stored inside, undoing the magic he'd sealed it with. He picked up the dagger with both hands and held it in front of him as he walked around the counter toward Emma.

"Take it," Emma motioned to Hook, never taking her eyes off Gold.

Hook took the dagger and stepped back as David handcuffed Rumple. Emma and David led Gold away, Belle and Hook trailing behind.

Killian slowed to a halt, stopping Belle with his hook. She froze, waiting. "I don't condone what he's done, lass," he started, "but if it's any comfort... that man does love you. And if there's one thing we've learned these past couple of years, it's that true love is stronger than anything." The words tasted strange on his tongue. "Don't give up, luv."

Belle looked at Hook. "Thank you," she smiled gratefully, her eyes still shimmering with tears.

Rumplestiltskin sat in the jail cell, the same one he'd vacated of Zelena not long ago. That woman had been his undoing. Why hadn't he taken care of her when he'd had the chance? Right, he'd no need to then. Now he was a changed man; was supposed to be. Yet, he again found himself in a cage because of her.


Belle had finally given up on him. And if she'd given up, how could he expect anyone else to believe in him? She'd always been that one.

Bae. His son, the one he'd crossed worlds and, despite the risks, enabled a curse to find, was gone. He'd found him only to lose him again, this time for ever.

You reap was you sow. The thought whirled around in his head. If that was true, did he really deserve all he was getting? Probably more, he thought resignedly.

Belle was hurting. She didn't understand how Rumple had lied to her, and in such a big way. She was torn between believing and giving up. She still loved him — she always would. But after this latest betrayal, she couldn't keep the question from haunting her soul: Can a man like Rumplestiltskin truly change?

yes, that's the end

I'm thinking of continuing this {I'm pretty sure Anna almost died when she realized that's where it ended} but I'm having a terrible time thinking of a title (for both this part and the possible series).

So, what do you think of this? Should I continue? Any title suggestions?
Tell me in the comments!

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

ac • knowl • edg • ment

ac knowl edg ment
1  acceptance of truth or existence of something
2  the action of expressing or displaying gratitude or appreciation
for something

You've probably notice my blog appearance has changed considerably.
So, just a note to say thank you to Westmoure for finding the background for me!
This look is much closer to what I was hoping for.

{the definition was just an attempt at being somewhat interesting}

Monday, August 4, 2014

Liebster Award

Hello, dearies! It seems I've been nominated for the Liebster Award. I've no idea where the name came from or who started this, but it's been floating around for quite a while. The basic idea, as I understand it, is to get to know different bloggers (thus the rule about less than 200 followers). Don't ask me why it's called an award, though. I haven't the slightest idea.

Thank you, Maddie Jay, for the nomination!

thank and link back to the person who nominated you
list 11 facts about yourself
answer the 11 questions asked by the blogger who nominated you
nominate 11 bloggers who have fewer than 200 followers
(you can’t nominate the blogger who nominated you)
ask them 11 questions
let them know about the nomination

eleven randoms facts of myself

1) I don't like peanut butter or nuts.
if I do eat peanut butter, I choose crunchy over creamy. I'm also working an acquiring the taste...which has so far been somewhat successful.

2) Clark (from Mind Games) is one of my all-time favorite characters, ever.

3) several of my favorite movies were made in 2002

4) this is supposedly the number of death
Artemis Fowl is both a great character and series
(yes, those things go together. see book seven.)

5) almost all of my friends are pastors' kids

6) I'm in love with cold and ice and snow.
I've skied since I was four (my dad taught me)
and have been down some pretty wicked slopes since then.
I got to try snowboarding once. it's harder but funner than skiing.
and ice hockey is awesome, though I've only played (or ice skated) once.

7) I have yet to see The Book Thief,
which I've been anticipating since first learning of it.
less than a day or two after finishing the book, I saw the movie advertised on the back of a newspaper someone was reading. a newspaper. how appropriate.
I was slightly nervous about it at first (Hollywood. 'nuff said) but everything I've seen/heard so far is nothing but goodness.

8) I'll taste {almost} anything at least once
usually over and over again {not in one sitting} until I can at least tolerate it

and here you thought I wasn't going to mention it for Once

10) I don't like the number ten
the word is okay, though
go say hi to Lykan and Lauriloth. they're awesome

11) I'm slightly obsessed with numbers
and words

my answers to maddie's questions

1. Who is your favorite band or singer? I guess that would be the Clark family. Specifically Bro Mike, Mike, and Travis. Mike and Travis are young (teenage) brothers, and Bro Mike is their dad. They sing beaumazingly together. So I made up a word. [get over it] The rest of the family sings, too, but they're my favorite "group."

2. Who was your first fictional crush? (can be movie or book) I've never really had any. Um... many Neal from Once Upon a Time, or Dan from The Shunning. Or maybe Gale from The Hunger Games series. Nah, not Gale. Jack from the Titanic? Or, wait, no, probably the guy from that Hallmark Christmas movie, the one with Henry Winkler in it. (I found it here)

Well, I've at least attempted to answer this one. Next question.

3. What is a cartoon you loved when you were little, but can't stand now? Let's see... Little Bear, Blue's Clues, Winnie the Pooh. I think those are the only cartoons I watched. Oh, and Swiss Family Robinson. I haven't seen any of those in ages, so I don't really know. But back then, favorite to least favorite were: 1) Family Robinson, 2) Little Bear, 3) Pooh Bear, and 4) Blue's Clues.

4. What was/is your least favorite subject in school? Geometry. I love math! Especially algebra. Just not geometry. (It was all remembering numerous theorems and their two- or three-letter abbreviations.)

5. If you had to dye your hair an unusual color, what would you choose? Probably purple. Except that I'm verrrrry picky about that color. There's only one shade I actually like. It's a really dark, rich shade of purple. Inky, maybe. But darker... like shadows. One of the boys in church has a shirt that color, but it's not like I've got a picture of it.

6. Do you grow your fingernails out long or keep them short? Both. I don't exactly pay them much attention. I just let them grow until they get annoying, then clip them. Or sometimes one will break and I'll clip it. So some are short, some are longish.

7. How much makeup do you usually wear? None.

8. What is one song you can't stand to listen to? "Never Ever Getting Back Together", or whatever that song is called. It's by Taylor Swift. It's doesn't help that they put it on the country countdown when it's clearly not a country song. (actually, they're doing that a lot these days...) Okay, rant over. Next.

9. Ford or Chevy? Chevy.

10. What accent do you love to listen to? Aussie.

11. How many (or any) kids would you like to have? None of "my own" (meaning biological). I want to foster/adopt. I don't really have a number. At times, though, I've imagined something like Jo March's house of boys. My preference would be all boys, maybe a girl or two. Maybe. As I said, like Jo. But that's just a preference.

my nominations

ashley g.

bound and freed

carly meyer

christine / lauriloth
(she just so happens to have already been nominated)
(so I've given her place to...)




miss elliot

molly weston




my questions for you

If you could travel anywhere in the world, where is the first place you'd go? Why?

If you could travel anywhere in any universe (fictional or otherwise), what specific place would you visit first? Why?

Do you have a favorite Bible story/character/verse? Who/what is it?

Would you ever consider eating octopus ink pasta with squid?
(I'm a bit obsessed with this question right now...)
{it seems I forgot to add this picture before posting}

Have you read The Book Thief? What is your opinion on it? Favorite quote/scene?
(You may mention the movie if you've seen it, but try to keep the movie spoilers to a minimum.)

If you suddenly found yourself in a do-or-die situation, what would it be?
What single item would you want to have with you?

Quotes are lovely things. I've got an entire blog devoted to them.
Post a favorite or three [for me to use].
(if I use any, I'll link to your post as the source and tell you when it publishes)

What is your favorite type of blog post to read?
{Beautiful People, Stacking the Shelves, ramblings, [original] writings,
character posts...}

What's the first thing you do in the morning, after you attempt to wake up and actually get out of bed?

What is the worst book you've ever read?

Can you swim? Ocean, lake, creek, or pool?

Thanks again for nominating me, Maddie!

•  •  •  •  

Enjoy, you guys!
{and comment below with the link to your post so I can read it}

Sunday, August 3, 2014

A Novel Idea – Writing

This week, Ashley has chosen questions about writing, rather than about characters and their background. Which is an idea I love, because I can read about how others like or tend to do things, and maybe I'll even learn a thing or two.

click to link up to this week's post!

What does your writing process look like? Do you sit down and plot your story before you start writing, or do you usually start writing before you plot?

Usually, my stories start as a scene. A picture in my head which may or may not come to life with voices, actions, etc. If they don't start with a picture, they start as an unusual idea, though still a scene. I'll either jot down the idea, write the scene, or store the picture/voice[s] in my head for later. For me, plotting is the hardest part of writing. Characters are always the "easiest." Characters come to me along with the scenes (usually the scene(s) are based off the character(s)... it's kind of a two-in-one deal), while I have to really work at plotting. I might have a slight idea of where I want to go (in fact, for a few things, I've known the end first), but all of how and why and when and etc. of getting there is the issue.

With shorter writings (short stories, fanfics, etc.), I've found that I begin writing the beginning and write straight through until I come to the part where I've got to stop for a moment and think about what's going to happen next or how it's going to happen. While I'm trying to decide that, the end starts writing itself in my head, so I write that and then go back and fill in the middle. That's how I wrote MyrnaWater, Fire, and the fanfic I'll be posting sometime in the next few days.

Do you have any strange writing habits? Such as only writing in one certain place, etc?

The format I'm using very much affects my writing. I find it's easiest to write straight into a blog post or in iPad Notes, while OpenOffice pretty much kills my writing cells (though I have gotten work done using it). Is that strange?

Also, I've found that my best writing is almost always what I've written in the middle of the night.

Do you usually write on paper or on the computer? (Or on a typewriter?)

Most often, I write on iPad Notes. A close second is directly into a Blogger post (whether or not it's something I plan on posting). I have written in a notebook (I almost always have one with me as well as my iPad), but I mostly write in it only when I can't use my iPad or laptop, or if I'm writing a poem. For some odd reason, I've written almost all of my poems in notebooks. Though everything else usually gets written best on screen, poetry seems to like being written in notebooks.

I've always thought a typewriter would be really awesome to use. Unfortunately, I've not yet had the pleasure. I'm looking forward to the day I own one.

What authors inspire you to write better? Is there an author you'd like to be like?

Edgar Allen Poe, Ally Condie, Anne-girl, Rachel, Markus Zusak, Ely, Westmoure, Olivia, Vicki, Michael J. Kirby, Suzanne Collins.

Those are just the first few I thought of. Some of them aren't technically authors, but all are writers, and that is what counts here.

I don't know that I really want to be like any of them. I am who I am, and I will write like I write. But I am influenced by them, and through that influence find my own style. Not that I would mind being [positively] compared to them.

What advice would you give to people who want to start writing?

Oh, yes, I'm such a cunning and experienced writer. Let me impart my great wisdom to you.

Uhh... nope. In fact, most of you reading this probably have more of that than I do. I've only gotten truly serious about writing these past several months. But since you asked, here's a few thoughts:

1) Be prepared. Don't get started thinking it's all having fun and eating chocolate and drinking coffee. Writing is blood and torture and tearing your heart out over and over again. And lots and lots and lots of work. 
2) On the other hand, it can be a lot of fun, and there is chocolate and coffee (or tea, if you prefer it). Make sure you are having plenty of that along the way or your writing will suffer. All work and no fun makes for dull books. 
3) Read and read and read, and write and write and write. And then read and write some more. You learn so much more than you realize by reading good and bad books. The good ones are best, but the bad ones can be just as valuable from time to time because they show you what not to do — they point things out you might not notice otherwise. Writing is like any other skill — the more you do it, the better you'll get.

Writing, like anything else, is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration. Or something like that. This means two things: First, that you have to work at it. But, second, you're not a terrible writer because you're not constantly inspired. That's normal. It's called writer's block, which you attempt learn to work through and with.

Thinking about writing? Read these.

Hmm... those were rather long answers, weren't thy?

Feel free to comment and give your own thoughts or opinions. Better yet, write your own post! And don't forget to follow the button and link up so we can read your answers.


Saturday, August 2, 2014

Water, Fire

One way to participate in Kendra's 5&3 party is to write something based off one of her WIP titles. I chose Water Princess, Fire Prince.

If that were a guy, this picture would be perfect.
Neither girl really fits Marta.
The fire girl fits her better than the water girl,
though not because of her looks.

I slide out of bed, already dressed in the clothes my brother has managed to smuggle to me. Tiaras and ruffles just won't do for this misadventure.

I do my hair in a tight braid at the nape of my neck. I don't wear any shoes. Shoes are a curse of culture, and they'll only hinder my climb.

I cross my room to the ginormous window. I might mention I live in a castle. I'm a princess, my twin brother a prince. We've been kept apart by our parents and the servants for far too long and with no explanation. We only know that there seems to be something wrong with us, judging by all the gossip and teasing we've been subject to.

I tie a rope to the dresser nearby and test it to be sure it'll hold before climbing out the window and beginning my decent. Marcus and I are thirteen, and we want to know why we haven't been allowed to get near each other for these past ten years. We've been allowed to talk or hang out together, but we are never to touch and are under constant supervision to be sure that we don't. Tonight, we're going to learn why.

I jump the last few feet to the ground and look around to see if Marcus has made it down from his own window. He has, and as soon as we see each other, we run as cautiously as we can to the woods surrounding the castle grounds. We don't stop until we're deep enough into the forest we're sure we won't be discovered by the guards.

We both rest for a minute, catching our breath.

"Are you ready?" Marcus asks me.

"As much as I'll ever be," I answer.

We stand in front of each other and bring our hands together. As my hand nears his, I begin to feel a strange sensation, which grows stronger as our hands get closer. It feels like pins and needles, only softer, rounder. Seconds after our hands touch, I jerk mine away with a small scream.

I grab my wrist and look at my hand. And scream again in stark horror. My skin is rolling and bubbling like hot water over a fire. It quickly calms down and my hand returns to almost normal, though it still seems to have a liquid quality to it.

I look at my brother and notice his hand, bright red, like hot coals after their fire has been put out. He looks at me, mouth gaping, shock written across his face. I suppose I look much the same.

"What was that‽" I say, though certain he doesn't know any better than I do.

We're quiet for some time, thinking. After a while, something seems to click in Marcus's eyes. He walks to the nearest tree and lays his hand on the bark. He closes his eyes for a minute, seeming to concentrate on something. Suddenly, the wood beneath his hand bursts into flames, but he doesn't cry out or move his hand.

"What are you doing?" I yell.

"It doesn't hurt."

I stop, realizing what he's said. "What?" I ask, confused.

"The fire, it doesn't burn. My hand feels fine." He pulls his hand away and shows me. "See?"

I walk to him and inspect his hand. He's right, it isn't burnt. I touch my finger to his palm, wondering if his skin feels hot, but I again pull my hand away with a short scream. I realize he's done the same. I glance at my hand and find the same result before looking at his. The spot where I'd touched him is sizzling, much like when you pour water into a burning pot. Strange that fire shouldn't hurt him but a simple touch does.

But not just any touch, my touch. I begin to understand what had clicked in Marcus's mind moments before. I walk to the tree he's lit on fire, hold my hand out, and concentrate on squelching the flames.

I hear a splosh and open my eyes. The bark is smoldering where it had been burning seconds earlier. The tree is wet, as if someone had dowsed the fire with a bucket of water.

"So this is why they've separated us," I mutter, loud enough for Marcus to hear. "But why didn't they tell us?"

We look at each other, thinking it through, trying to make sense of it.

"I wonder how we got this way," Marcus says. "I wish I'd known sooner, this could be fun."

That sparked a thought in my head. "Maybe that's why they didn't want to tell us—"

"So we wouldn't misuse it," we finish.

"Well, now that we know," he begins.

I finish for him, "...what are we going to do about it?"
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