Monday, April 22, 2013

A Year Without Autumn


Today, I finished a super amazing book!  It is now my new favorite book.  It's sooooooooooo good!  It is called, A Year Without Autumn.  I highly recommend this book!  Here is the summary.

Twelve-year-old Jenni Green's family vacation has finally arrived-and her best friend in the world, Autumn, will be there, too.

But when Jenni takes an old elevator to Autumn's condo, everything has changed:  tragedy has struck Autumn's family, and everyone is a year older . . . . Jenni realizes that she needs to change the future by somehow fixing the past.

The author of the best-selling Emily Windsnap series spins a gripping tale about a girl who stumbles into the future-and must change it's course to save a friendship.

Description was found on the back of the book A Year Without Autumn.

I think this book is suitable for all ages, but whether your five or fourteen, I think you'll enjoy it just as much!  I totally recommend this book, so make sure to read it.  Have a nice day! =)

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Work With Your Heart

I write plain little nothings on a computer every day. It slowly adds together to a plain little nothing story. But I work with my heart. I love my story. That transforms the plain little nothings I write into something beautiful. Something deep and meaningful, something that begs to be added to.
Something that is not a waste of time, even though that will never be read by anybody but me. Something beautiful and amazing is created with each plain little nothing I write, even though it would only make sense for it to be a plain little nothing story, too.  Why not? Because I put my heart into it.


{Sorry for the short, odd and slightly meaningful post, but I'm feeling slightly meaningful right now. Probably because of the story. Talk about getting into character, huh? Huh? Huh, get it? ;) {I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, that was horrible. I'm sorry you read that.}}

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Archer: Part 4 - Adelwyn

Part 4

Etta sat perched on my shoulder chattering about a crow who tried stealing his winter stash.
I was standing over a pot of vegetable soup I was making for dinner.
My uncle had been gone for two days and I was missing his company.  We live far enough away from the nearest little town that no one misses us.

I heard a knock on my door and stood up strait.  There was immediate silence.
Who or what could that be?  I thought, a little nervous.  I went quietly to the door, still holding my soup ladle.
I opened it, and there stood a tall young man; wheat colored hair, grey eyes.  I stared at him.
“I know you.”  I said blankly.  In my mind there was a whirl of confusion, recognition, heart break, disbelief and bewilderment.
“And I know you, your highness.” He bowed.  He shot me a crooked smile.
“WHAT?” I squealed and took a step back.  Etta squeaked in my ear.  Then a name hit me like a thunder clap.  “Gordon.”  I whispered softly, surprising myself.
He was staring at me.
“Gordon?” I said loud enough for him to hear.
He looked surprised.  “You remember me?”
“No!”  I was starting to feel panicky.  “Who are you?  What are you doing here?  What do you want with me?  Why did you call me highness?!?!  HOW COME I KNOW YOUR NAME!?!?”
My voice rose higher in pitch.  My heart was racing, my head was throbbing  I was suddenly dizzy, faces of people I didn’t know crammed into my head with sickening speed, their voices ringing out at the same time creating a blast of confusion and sound.
I covered my ears with my hands the ladle falling with a deafening crash, and Etta’s startled squeak when he jumped off my arm.
“Stop!”  I yelled at myself.
Then I did something I never thought I would do.
I fainted.

I woke up with a cry.  I was lying on a bench that was up against a wall.  I sat up.
I put my aching head in my hands.  “What happened?”  I asked myself.
“You fainted.”
“Ah!”  I shrieked.  I hadn’t noticed the person stirring the soup I had been making.  “What are you doing here!?!?!” Then I remembered what had happened.
“Shhh.  Calm down!  You hit your head on the ground pretty hard when you fainted and that knocked you out cold.  I brought you inside.”  Gordon turned and faced me.   Something was on his shoulder.
“Etta!”  I exclaimed. I looked at the man hard.  “What is he doing?  He never makes friends with a complete stranger!”
“Toolo nan whan,” He said, his gray eyes flashing. “Kae ton rak.”
I opened my eyes wide. “Nonan.  How do you know this?  I have never met anyone other than my Uncle who could speak in Klorinan.”
“Every one of the royal house can speak it, milady.” He said.
“Again you speak of the royal family.”  I stood.  “You must be hungry.  That soup should be done.”  I got 2 bowls and spoons.  I put the steaming bowls on the table.  “Come, sit.  You must tell me everything.”

“So, I have a brother, you are my cousin and I am a long lost princess?  That seems pretty farfetched.”  I looked up at Gordon.
“Yeah I know.”  He frowned.
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe you.  I know it’s true.”
“So you’ll come with me?”  His eyes brightened and he smiled.
“Yes.”  I smiled back.


Smiling isn't *THAT* hard, I don't know why your writing is so depressing.

First of all, understand this--I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to everybody in general. This has happened to the best of us in some point of our writing lives--our story is utterly depressing, even though the part is about a happy occasion.
I, for one, have a bad habit of making the happiest thing depressing once I've written it down. My main character tends to be a depressing person, and that could totally take part in it, too. But the next part in my story is a wedding. I'm dreading it. My character will have to happy, and I'm so unused to having her being happy. It just isn't..... normal. 8O {That's supposed to be a face}

The question is {and what's the post is really about....}:
How do I make a part happy?

There are actually a few good reasons that your writing may be coming out looking like a pug's face {in other words, squished and slightly weird {and applying only to your writing: ugly}}/ you're making a happy part sad.

1. A lot of it has to do about you. I am not kidding. Please don't tell me that out of all of your characters, you're most like somebody other than the main character. Frankly, I don't quite see how that is possible and I'd deem you a liar if you told me that. Even if it is just a speck, our main characters are based upon us. Now, I am not depressed most of the time. So, Alissa is obviously based a little less than whole upon me. But I can still see character traits we share.
The fact is, if you're not happy, your main character isn't, either. The feeling you have while writing is how your character is, too. So, in order for your character to be happy, you have to, too.  Of course, it's easier to get into character with some moods better than others. It's extremely easy for me to write about Alissa's burning anger at person-unknown because it's not hard for me to get into that character mood, while writing about being happy is harder. For some of us, it's extremely easy to write about being happy and hard to write about depressing feelings. That's okay, because we're all different.

2. Smile. Really, smile. For no reason, right now. I'm waiting. Still.... Waiting.... okay. :) Smiling or laughing for no reason will make you happy, as I've just proved my point above. If you need help getting into a happy character mood, just do that.

I hope I've given you some good pointers. :) Now I'm ready to tackle that wedding, because writing about being happy to you has actually made me.... happy. :)


Friday, April 12, 2013

Archer: Part 3 - Elendor

Hey!  I'm back with the nest part!


“Your Highness?” 
I started.  I realized I had been dozing.  I sat up strait and shook my head.
“Yes, Sir Lionel?”  I asked, brushing hair off my forehead.
“Nothing your highness, I was just going to say you should get some sleep.  You haven’t had a full nights rest in who knows how long.”  Answered the kindly old gentle-knight with a chuckle.
I grinned sleepily.  “Thank you sir.  I might take your advice.”
“You are working hard for you kingdom.  Your father would be proud.”  He smiled. 
I smiled back.  I glanced around the stone chamber and at the large oak table.  I realized how tired I was.
“Very well,” I said, standing up.  “I will bid you goodnight.” 
Sir Lionel stood also and took hold of my arm.  “I wish your father could have seen the wonderful King you have become.” He said gruffly, bowing low.
“You have saved my life from my earliest days, Sir Lionel.  You do not have to bow to me.  If not for you, I would be dead long since. It is I who should bow to you.”  I pulled him up till he stood strait then kneeled before him.
“No sir!  You are my king!  I owe you every allegiance.”  He cried in surprise. “Please, stand!”
I looked up into his imploring face.  I stood them gave him a hug.  “If I could have another father,” I whispered, “It would be you.”

I walked out onto the balcony outside my room.  I stared restlessly out at the Keittian Ocean. 
My thoughts flickered to my earliest memories of a tall man and a beautiful woman smiling down at me, the woman holding my tiny baby sister, and at my sisters 1st birthday, the smiling faces gathered around us.
There are many faces I recognize, the most vibrant images where of cousin Gordon and Sir Lionel.  He stowed us aboard a ship headed to Keitt.  He was there to help us and comfort us.  He was one of the many people who taught us.
I smiled at a memory of Sir Lionel teaching us how to sword fight.  It was cloudy that day.  We had started practice out in the range and was soon pouring rain.  We ended up in a mud ball fight.  We were all caked in mud.  I’m afraid that it was sir Lionel who had the worst of it.  The mud dried very quickly to his hair and beard once we were inside.  He had to wash his hair more than once to get the grit out.

I walked back into my room, over to the wash basin.  I looked at my reflection in the water.  I stared, the water seemed to shimmer, and then I saw Gordon ridding through a field in Gwindola. 
He was smiling, enjoying his freedom.
Just as Gordon was gifted with tracking and knowing, I was gifted with wisdom and oversight.  I can see people even if we are separated.  I don’t need a mirror or a pool of water to see clearly, unlike those who work with evil.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.  The image of Gordon flickered then faded away.  I rubbed my eyes.  Opening them, I thought of the meeting between Gordon and my sister. 
I wish I could be there.  I wish I could have gone and told her myself.

I hope you liked it!

Names are important.

{If you haven't noticed, I am starting to do more ''writing tips'' than actually pieces of my writing. I'm going to try to mix it up because, hey, why not help writing in general rather than just post about MINE.}

Names are so important to a story. Never give a character ''just'' a name. They need a name that totally fits them, that will get the reader to understand them better, that sounds right when you think about that character.

Let's think about the Hunger Games for just a second here. Katniss, the main character, lives in Panem {basically the world after a huge war, wiping everything but Panem away}. Panem et Circenses is literally translated into ''bread and circuses'' from Latin. That is significant for just a few of these reasons: The book is built upon food. No kidding. :) Food has a lot of things to do with the book. For one, Katniss lives in a place where many people are poor and can't always afford to fill their stomachs. Plus, the side characters are named after how Katniss perceives their persons. 

In other words, the author, Suzanne Collins, is basically a genius. The characters are given names that help us understand them {that's why some of the characters are named after herbs, or other edible plants}. 

I'll admit, it's hard to be as mind-blowing with names as Suzanne Collins is. Then again, I'm only twelve, so you really can't expect me to write a mind-blowing novel that books have been published on only how to understand it. So I'm going to start simple.

Think about your characters pepersonality before you name them. I have a half-finished novel somewhere with a character who is bright and sunny, and basically happy all the time {basically, all my other characters in different novels would not get along with her.}. Before I wrote about her, I looked up what name means ''light'' in English. Lo and behold, it was Lucy. Surprising at the time, that name fit my character perfectly. 

''Well... ------ sounds right when I give it to my character. ''
  That's totally alright. Sometimes, for example, names just sound right when they roll off your tongue. If hearing a name instantly makes you think about your character/personality traits they have, that's just another good way to develop your character and to help us understand them

So.... that's it. :)   


Wednesday, April 3, 2013

Archer: Part 2 - Gordon

Part 2

The King looked at me.  “It’s time, Gordon.  She needs to know and you need to get her.”
I shook my head in agreement.  “Where does she live?”  I asked.   I had been in this meeting for most of the afternoon and I was getting restless.
“She lives on the east side of Gwindola, past the Eastern Wood.  Her uncle will not be home.  They live in a big cabin next to a river.”  Answered King Elendor, “But knowing you however, you probably know exactly where I’m talking about.”  He added with a smile.
I shook my head yes.  I was gifted with a tracking insight.  Why did I have this gift?  I often wondered.  The answer always remained hidden. 
“Very well then,” Elendor said standing, “You leave at dawn tomorrow.”
I stood and bowed. “Yes my liege.” 
I turned to walk out of the room when the King walked over and put his hand on my shoulder. 
“Sir Gordon?”
“Yes highness?”
He looked me deep in the eyes.  “Stay well cousin.”  He grinned and gave me a hug.  “You be good to her.”  He commanded with a laugh.  “Try not to scare her to bad.”
I laughed back.  “Sure El, I’ll be as careful as possible.”
We stood there a moment. 
As cousins, we looked almost the same.  Only I had wheat colored hair while he had black.  We had the same silver eyes, same build and same height; he had the rounder face of the two of us.  He is only one hour older than I am.
I hadn’t seen Elendor the rest of the day.  Mostly because of the packing I had to do.  The other part of it was he was busy being a King commanding an army to win his kingdom back.

I was gone early the next morning.  As I made my way along the seemingly endless paths, I looked at the mountain I was passing.  Tall, strong, green and alive - all in all a beautiful site. 
I loved the country.  You could breathe easy here.  There was no place more beautiful than Gwindola.  
I considered how much danger I am in while going on this mission. 
I’m working for a King who is supposed to be dead.
He way supposedly killed off two years ago by the imposter, “King - I should be saying ‘Court Jester’- Roegad.”
Elendor wasn’t killed, but he was severely injured.  He was injured so badly we did indeed fear that he would die.  Elendor is tough though, like his father - the late king Orrden.
Uncle Orrden was murdered 14 years ago by Roegad when Elendor and I where only 6. 
My father Idelid and King Orrden where best friends:  They grew up together, played together, trained together and even died together.  They became brothers when my father married Orrden’s sister, Laynaette. 

There was a princess too.  She was only one year old when our fathers died.  
The Queen, my aunt Hanrell, hid her away right after the King and my father died. 
Everyone was told that the princess had died from a fever, while her mother’s younger brother smuggled and hid her in the country. 
I am looking for that princess.  
Elendor has always been careful to be sure of where his long lost sister was without drawing attention to her, because he knew someday we would need her to help rebuild his Kingdom.

Soon after that, the Queen died of a broken heart.  
Elendor and I had been taken and hidden away by those who loved the royal family.

This must be the place.  I thought.  I just rode up to a cozy looking cabin.
I dismounted the rusty colored horse I had been riding.  I went to the door and knocked.
I’m waiting for it to open.

Hope you enjoyed it!

All photos via pinterest or google images (including used for designing & favicon) unless otherwise stated.