Good-bye TearsI graduated on June thirteenth. They said- they being I have realized, those who have just experienced what you will experience- always say that during graduation you will be happy, realize that everyone is splitting off into a billion little places, and then you will break down.Sometimes, this happens soon than later, and you will find some unfortunate souls huddled down on the floor outside of bathrooms rocking themselves to sleep during second period.I did none of those things. I never cried. I never was sad.I breezed through Graduation and Grad Night trying to work up something like emotion but I failed.What did I have to be sad about?My fiancé was going to school with me and my best friend didnt even go to High School with the rest of us.And I have Facebook. I will always have Facebook.It is now August twenty-second.I walk into Safeway and its about ten thirty pm, because, as you know, it is only after dark when any teenager ever goes into Safeway. It
The Best Time of Your LifeCollege was starting in a little less than a week. I would be freshman once again, only it would be in a strange place and at a strange time and with more people around me then I knew what to do with. I mean, I wasnt exactly from the country, but in a town where you knew mostly everyones car and not necessarily their names, its quite exciting to go into the city where everything looks, tastes, and even smells different; and in the city I was planning to be.My fiancé and I were both attending, but he had gotten a scholarship for having such a high G.P.A. I did not. This fact I had no problems with. They would have to do community service, attend fancy dinners (which I would end up attending anyway), and all have to room together on the twelfth floor of the on-campus apartment complex- which was, lets face it, more like a hotel then a college dorm- with four people to a room, a kitchen, living space, one and a half bath, and two bedrooms. The sch
Breaking Dawn AftermathMy world is exploding out and crashing down around me.I have finished Breaking Dawn.I have finished-I have...Oh God..... what do I do now? What do I do? It's finished. Done. The last page has turned and the cover has followed to lay flat against those final words- those two final words.the endI didn't think it would come. I wished it would, wished it over and over and over again. And now, as I sit and see the plastic-like cover winking smears of greasy finger prints of tears and sweat back at me I realize... I would take it all back. Back in a heartbeat.Make it start over! Make it go again! Let it be Friday! No. Let it be years ago! Let it be before Twilight and let me realize once again that I have pure ecstasy in my hands before I touch the first pages and ruin it!Oh heaven! Oh sweet cherubs and winged creatures above! Let it be over!But let me pause; the fluttering heart within me stalling.It is alright. Let it go. That feeling inside, that triumph of reaching that climax
How To Find a Really Good Bookand Other Book-Rental WoesGenre: FantasyI was at the Library today. I must confess that I now find the library a tad depressing. For one thing, it never is open the day I would like and on the days that it is the hours never seem to be sensible.Why have a Library if it is never open?Years ago, when I was not yet in High School let alone College, I would enter the Library with the general happiness of a child ready to throw themselves at the ice-cream bar, cookie-dough included. Despite my best attempts to waylay the incessant chatting of exited voices in my head, Pick me! Pick me!, I would nevertheless waltz out of the constantly malfunctioning checkout detectors with too many books and not enough common sense to knowingly pace myself.One summer I had read though fourteen books in a month and a half. That was the month in which I started a book list. Every book from then on, which my eye has run cover to cover, had its name scrawled next to a forever increasing number.Ther
Amazement: Part IIThis is very hard. His pale hand flitted up to touch upon his temple.Coming from you, thats saying something, he glared at her, but she ignored it, leaning forward, Did you ever stop to think that this is wrong? That this isnt normal?Nothing about you nor I is normal.She waited for him to say more but he merely folded his hands upon the table. Finally, as if the words should not exist, and as if he wrenched them from some darkened, wicked place, he spoke- slowly.I should not want you.Through long black lashes he looked over at her, face unreadable. Her heart hammered loudly in her ears.
Untitled Book OutlineDaphne Saddlebeck hasnt been a girl since she was fourteen years old. Donohue has been a knight since he was fifteen and a half. Daphne both loves and loathes Donohue; has since the moment he was born into existence. He is both her angel and her demon, her protector and her tormenter, her strength and her weakness. He is her greatest secret. When Daphne became Donohue she had only expected to survive, if barely, by blending into a new town, a new life, and a new identity. Instead, she had thrived. Six years later, the warlord who had decimated her birthplace and who had destroyed her old life now threatens her new home, and Daphne must embrace who she is, all of who she is, before she will be able to protect her court, her kingdom, and herself.
FightThe first strike- all it took.Head spinning as the steel came right at me, bowing out against the blue.It falls.Comes within inches of the orange blur of bodies scurrying.Film and cameras clatter onto the ground.The chatter in my ear was deafening.Yelling.Blow by blood, the fist of water down slamming against the planks of wood.Slowly, back to reality.Someone is laughing, yelling.My fists curve and I feel wetness on my palms.Eyes flicker like fireflies down at me as I lay sprawled, petrified.The laughter reverberates and I cannot tell.Is it me who is laughing?Are they laughing at me?I look down into my lap and I reel.Broken; voices shattered into a million pieces.Broken into a million frames.My livelihood laying in my arms, bleeding pixels.A hand comes to grasp my shoulder, hauling me up, the carnage falling to the deck where the sea water pushes it.A voice clips over the radio.Not the man's voice before me.God's voice."Next time, hang onto something for Christ's
How To Write A StoryWriting a book is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster, and fling him to the public.-Sir Winston ChurchillNow that we've gotten that out of the way....Hello, and welcome to Cooking With The Authors! This is the show where we bring an aspiring author to our stage, set them in an electric chair, and give them the basics to writing a story. If they do it right, their novel or what have you is published. If they turn out trash not unlike the bet sellers of today, well, our contestants get to have a nice little meeting with Old Sparky! Today, our contestant is... you, the reader!No, not really. I wish there was such a game-show, but who in their right mind would be a contestant on that show? Although, I know I'm being fairly hypocritical here. If th