Monday, November 25, 2013

In Exactly One Month

It'll be Christmas!  Now, I know, I know.  There are those people who say: "Gah, way to get all hyped up on the Christmas season.  At least I don't forget Thanksgiving, like some people."

I'm not trying to dis it, or anything.  I guess i'm just not that patriotic?  I mean, it sort of is an American holiday, anyway.  And what reason to love Thanksgiving, other than getting to see family, would I have?  We eat gluttonous food that tastes good for only about forty-five minutes to an hour and a half, but later I feel overly full, and the after-after effects are me feeling like I'm fatter than I used to be and me not liking that I feel like I'm fatter than I used to be.  (But honestly I shouldn't be worrying about my weight anyway.  Our beauty is on the inside . . .)

Okay, so maybe that last paragraph kind of did dis Thanksgiving a little.  I guess I just love Christmas more.  But why?  It's not about presents.  For the first time since I was a kid that sort of thing isn't really on the forefront of my mind. I don't know what I want, and I really don't care what I get.  So what would make Christmas better than Thanksgiving if the only difference is the presents?

Maybe Christmas is a whole bigger shebang than Thanksgiving, well, for me anyway.  I mean, maybe that's commercialism talking, but I just love the whole house being decorated while Christmas music drifts through the air.  Some kind of smell of cinnamon, pine, or nutmeg has to be lurking somewhere, ready to pervade my nostrils, and a heavy poor of snow flakes float to the ground outside.  Christmas has a feeling that comes along with it that I guess Thanksgiving just doesn't.  I think the whole "Historical Feast of Our Ancestors with the Native Americans" thing is pretty cool, but then once everybody moved in to good 'ole 'Merca and we won our independence, nobody really remembered that camaraderie we had when we treated Native American tribes like old, unwanted trees that could be cut down and planted somewhere else.  But that's another topic to discuss.

The idea of Thanksgiving now is just a fancy way of pigging out.  Instead of drowning yourself in your own fat by purchasing McDonalds, you can do it homemade gourmet style.  Or for those like me who like to eat healthy, you eat all the bad stuff because you're "supposed to" and then you feel really bad about it later because you know that obesity is a very likely one way road trip to old age problems like dementia.

But why am I slamming gluttony?  There's plenty of gluttony during the Christmas festivities, too.  I guess I got carried away.  But when it comes down to it, nobody counts down to Thanksgiving.  Not really.

#ChristmasCoutdown  #OneMonth  #What'sWithTheHashtags?

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Just to Let You Know . . .

I didn't really swear off the world because of Veronica Roth.  I can't even remember what I was so upset over anymore.  (Hah, add that to the list.  Allegiant is not memorable.)

I just honestly haven't had anything to talk about, you know?  School is a drag.  Like, why would I want to talk about that?  I guess I just wanted to let whoever's reading to know that I'm not dead.  (:  I'm still not reading, but not out of protest.  Just because I'm focusing on Red Silk.  That's another reason I haven't been posting.  I'm actually working on Red Silk, which is a good thing.  When I post a lot it means I'm getting absolutely nothing done.

I hope this work thing holds steady.  I want this book to be a long book, so hopefully I finish it by summer, because I'm getting a whole lot more ideas that I'm totally not ready for yet.  Don't you love that?  God gives you things on his time, not your time.  But aren't we just so glad that he gives them to us? (:

Friday, November 1, 2013

I'm Done with Dinky Trilogies and Stupid Young Adult Fiction.

You know those books Divergent, Insurgent, and Allegiant by Veronica Roth?  Yeah?  Okay, well if you're a big fan of that series and you haven't read Allegiant (the final book) yet, then this is a major spoiler and I suggest you make a major decision in your head before you read any further.  Alright.  Let's begin.
When I first picked up Allegiant, I was so excited.  I will eagerly tell you the Divergent and Insurgent are two of the best books of a trilogy that I've read since Hunger Games.  The first one was so, so good.  I can't even describe to you unless you already know.  It was thrilling and jam packed with so much interesting stuff and character detail and depth but it wasn't like the stupid things you read every day with the same 'ol same 'ol Teenage/ Young Adult fiction plot.  It had real feeling and meaning, therefore making it all the more real.  The second book was true to the second and plowed on just as strong as ever.  My confidence in Veronica Roth was sky high.  I just knew she was a one in a million author.  I knew she was amazing and could do no wrong.

Then I picked up Allegiant.  I'm not going to lie, I was rather confused.  It had been almost year maybe since I'd read Insurgent and I didn't own it nor had I thought to read it in advance so as to remember everything.  I guess I just assumed it would all click into place once I started up again.  Well . . . I couldn't remember who anyone was.  All I could remember was Tris and Tobia's relationship. (although, I'll tell you, I liked it better when Tris referred to him as Four.  I felt like Tobias wasn't the type of guy who was swimming in his past, therefore he wasn't Tobias anymore.  You don't see Tobias calling Tris "Beatrice".  And when you hear that name for her it feels wrong, doesn't it?  Exactly.)  I had trouble remembering what had happened in the second book a lot, and well, Allegiant didn't pick up the pace or help me to remember.

It didn't have the same vibe.  You know what I mean by vibe?  Writers have different kinds of vibes.  I guess you can call them writing styles, but they can be even more specific than that.  Different series and books and stories all have different vibes depending on point of view, writer's personality, and character's personality.  Book one and two both had the same vibe, and man, that vibe was jammin'.  Book three was not so jammin'.  The point of view switched from Tobias to Tris and I was like . . . Uh, no.  You never did this before, you can't do this now.  Like many others have said, Veronica Roth was unable to create a personal persona for Tobias that was unlike Tris.  Her own personal mind was too ingrained in her writing and so Tris and Tobias melded into one.  Sometimes I'd get confused if I had skipped over the beginning name of the chapter, like: Wait, which one is it now?  Now, it's never bad to integrate your own personality into your character, it's just that you can never write any other book in first point of view ever again.  Because you know why?  It'll be the same. exact. thing.  Sometimes that's okay, but it's NEVER okay if you're writing from multiple points of view in one book.

All the bad things that were happening didn't seem believable.  That Edith Prior video at the end of Insurgent?  Pretty stinking powerful cliff hanger, right?  Okay, so in Allegiant Jeanine is dead, right?  It doesn't feel like it means anything.  Everything she did is referred to casually like it wasn't really some catastrophic thing that happened like, um, a week ago.  Well Tobias's mother, Evelyn, is this crazy evil dictator who lies to everyone and can't be trusted.  Yadda Yadda.  Basically she just reminds me of Jeanine.  I think she may be her reincarnation.  Well, guess what?  There's another rebel group called the Allegiant and they want the factions back.  Well you know what the main characters do?  They leave the city just like the video said they should.  Sounds like this book is moving is a good direction, yes? No.

In like, no time, like, two seconds, they find a compound with other people in it.  Oh, yay.  That was fun kids.  Let's all pack up and go home now.  Just kidding, they don't do that.  Although, they may as well have.  What they really do is get told that Divergence is not really a thing.  You see, eh hem, like, a hundred years ago some idiot thought it'd be smart to try and fix the genes that make us bad people so that we would be good people.  Well that backfired so now we're all evil.  Woop-dee-doo.  The government put us in enclosed cities so that we would have babies and get cleaner genes, or something and the compound would regulate the experiments.  Like, whatever.  Okay. So, then Divergence really means you are genetically pure because, I don't know, somehow through generations of breeding you've filtered out all the bad?  Yay for you!  You have a spleen!  HOW DUMB IS THAT? Divergent is the freaking name of the first book.  THE FREAKING NAME AND IT DOESN'T EVEN MEAN WHAT WE THOUGHT IT DID? But wait, it get's better.

Everyone just goes along with this dumb genetic thing, right?  All these Dauntless trust these people they don't even know.  And you know what?  Tris has pure genes and Tobias has damaged ones.  Oh, oh joy, oh great.  So then he trusts this other chick who has absolutely NO character development, Nita.  She tells him that the genetically pure and genetically damaged thing is not true and that we're all just people making choice on our own.  WELL CRAP NOW DIVERGENCE DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING.  MY LIFE DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING.  Anyway, it turns out she's a psychopath and lied to him and she blows up the compound.   Oh, but he didn't know she was going to do something that bad.  But he his friend Uriah gets killed and there's a riff between him and Tris because he was a part of the movement.  She's sooooo mad at him, the little brat.  Then they make up and make out.  Then the compound thinks they need to wipe the minds of everyone in Chicago because it's going so bad.  WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST DO THAT AT THE BEGINNING OF THE BOOK.  THEN YOU WOULDN'T HAVE WASTED MY TIME. Well Tris and Tobias can't have that.  "I know," says Tris, "let's just wipe everyone's minds in the compound so they won't do it to everyone in the city!"  You selfish hypocrite!  Where are your Abnegation values anyway?  Well, then they tell her brother that he should set off the mind erasing mist because he's such a traitor and everything, and whoever does it will be exposed to this death serum that no one, not even Divergent are immune to.  (I really think Tris is the worse person because she wasn't being very Christian-like despite her references to her parents believing in God and wanting to stay true to what her parents taught her) Well, in a very heroic like fashion, she takes the place of her brother and then she survives the death mist.  And then she gets shot.  And she dies.  And no, she doesn't come back to life.

And then everyone in the compound can't remember anything and everyone in Chicago can and Tobias is depressed and angry and I am depressed and angry but now I think I hate everyone.

Allegiant made that whole book series worth nothing.  NOTHING!  I hate that book so much.  What was the point of me reading it?  Of me falling in love with it?  What was the point of Tris and Tobias?  What did Tris die for?  Nothing!  I feel like her death could have been meaningful.  I would have let Veronica Roth get away with it if there had been just cause to kill her off. It was so stupid!  It was fluff.  It was ALL FLUFF.  VERONICA ROTH HAS WRONGED ME!  Stupid trilogies and stupid young adult fiction has wronged me.  I don't think I'm going to read again for a very long time.  Why is there no more quality in the world of literature, if it can even be called that?

I'm done with life.  I'm going to live underground from now on.  I hate all of you and everyone.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

Batman is a Newsie?

Happy Halloween everyone!  Unfortunately I didn't dress up.  No, I'll just be a homebody that holds the bowl (and eats a few pieces from it herself, occasionally).  <---- Just kidding.  I eat like one bite and my stomach is like: "Whhyyyy did you eeeeeaat that candyyyyy?  Why would you dooooo this to meeee?" And it starts punishing me.  Sugar, sadly, does not make me happy. And then people are like: "Are you crazy?" So then I'm like: "Meehehmeh, I doh-no . . ."

Well, now to my point.  (Do my blog posts ever have a point?)  Recently we've been watching the movie version of the Disney musical Newsies.  I use the term "we" loosely as the whole of my choir class think's it's stupid and talks through the whole thing.  But that's another story that I won't go into.  They don't bother me.  I will love Broadway Musicals with all my heart whether the next guy gives them a second glance or not.  If they call it stupid, well, that's their ignorance and judging nature, not mine.  They called "Annie Get Your Gun" stupid too.  If only they knew how well known that movie is.  As old as it is and the fact that it's still fairly popular (despite what they seem to think) is very impressive, if you ask me.

ANYWAY! The 1992 movie Newsies (which is what the onstage musical Newsies The Musical is based off of) is what we're watching, anyway.  Well, the guy who plays Jack Kelley (one of the lead guys) looked reeeally familiar to me:

Who does that look like to you?  Ringing any bells?  The first thing I thought was . . .  his lips!  I've seen those lips before! (Have you guessed who it is yet?):

Look at those beautiful lips . . . don't they remind you of someone else's lips we know?

That's right.  That boy is Christain Bale, of otherwise known as Batman.  Yep.  Batman is in a musical.  I was like . . . uh, my adoration of you just went up ten billion points.  Oh, did I mention he can sing and dance?

Sadly I was unable to find a good quality version of this nor was I able to find anything else of Chrstian Bale singing.  I don't think he plans on doing another musical ever, either, which is a shame.  But I still love him for having done Newsies.

I know, I haven't posted anything for my book for what, like a month?  And I haven't blog posted for . . . oh I don't even know how long.  I've been busy with school activities and such and . . . I'm writing a play! What?  So I just have to get it all on paper before I can continue with the book.  It's nothing big, just a cheesy little thing which is why I allowed myself a break from Red Silk to write it.  Hopefully it'll be done soon and I'll get back to work.  In the meantime, I had to post this.  It's been on my mind since we started watching Newsies and I was just bursting!


Saturday, October 19, 2013


I haven't been able to write for . . . two weeks I think?  Geez, I don't even know how long it's been.  The only thing I know is that my mind says to me: "It's time to get crackin'!"  To that I say, well, yeah, I'd really like to but when I stare at the open document for Red Silk you just come up blank, mind.  What are you trying to do to me, huh?

I realize two weeks isn't really that long to be worried about a block, but my brain is just so persistent.  It's subconsciously worrying me to get things done.  On top of that doubts are creeping in.  Now that I've slowed down to look at what I've created, I'm biting my lip and saying: "Eh . . .  I don't know If I like this."  And so then ensues the chain reaction that no one will ever want to read it, very few will like it, I'll never be a good author despite my best efforts . . .

But if I know what's good and I know what's bad, then surely I am good at this writing thing?  Maybe I just wasn't meant to write big books.  But then I tell myself I'm fairly young.  I've got tons of time to keep writing and keep failing and keep improving.  But then I tell myself I can't be so optimistic.  That would jinx everything, obviously. HASH TAG VICIOUS CYCLE.

Well, here's the problem.  Correction: problems.  I have a bad habit of trying to wait, no . . . wait, wait, wait . . . WAIT, just WAIT a little longer!  Wait, not yet! Not yet!  You can't write that part yet!  Stop!  It's too soon!  Get my point?

"Well (this is an example) Elexiandria only just left for the Primsomonkoly forrest three chapters ago.  She can't run into the rogue, handsome, ten-day stubble kissed square jawed, dark and shadowy huntsman who she may or may not fall in love with yet.  But gee, I can't just put in three more chapters of meaningless filler.  How do I come up with something that'll pertain to the story later?"

So when I get stuck like this,  I've usually been away from my story for a while and have gotten out of tune with the vibe and all that.  What do I do then?  I reread my story from the beginning.  And guess what?  It's utter crap in my eyes.  It's all crap, crap, crap.  How did I get excited about this story with this crap beginning chapter?  THIS is what inspired everything else I wrote?  How in the world?  That must mean the rest of it's crap too!

Because I have another bad habit of starting off with a fixed way that the characters are going to speak, but then completely forget I had formed that notion in the first place.  WHY DO I DO THESE THINGS TO MYSELF? WHY?

Well, I was hoping a blog post would get that writers block out of my system.  Was I right?  We'll see.  In the meantime, if you can identify with this feeling, this vicious cycle of craziness I suffer from, feel free to comment.  Have a wonderful day!


Saturday, October 12, 2013

Pointless and Unorganized

I sit on a seat
and dig through my mind
and find
 I don't want to do anything
but sit
a seat.

Fingers run 
through my hair
they do this
all the time.

I haven't much to say
I'd rather stay
in white nothingness
If you please.
I just don't want to

It's just so hard 
to write 
And maybe I'll quit
and maybe
 I'll paint
my nails.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

What Does it Mean to Declare Your Christianity?

Yes, my inspiration came from church this morning.  This is obvious as Sunday is probably the day when I'm thinking about God the most. (I really ought to be thinking about God all days of the week.  I'm working on that.)

Anyway.  Today in Sunday school we were talking about our Christian faith as we often do.  This usually leads to talking about the people who don't have our Christian faith.  Like atheists.  What are we supposed to think about them?  We can't love them, can we?  They don't love God, so surely there are forsaken, right?  No!  Obviously with Christian teachings you can't think like this.

A lot of the time I feel like that's how Christians are viewed by atheists, and maybe even by a lot of other people too.  Sometimes I feel I'd like to apologize.  But for what?  For being a Christian?  Isn't that a good thing?  That's what I've always been told when I was younger.  If you are a Christian then you are a good person.  That's always been the understanding of who we are and how we operate.  You've been doing some bad things lately and you want to change your life?  You want to be a Christian you say?  Okay.  BAM.  Automatic good person.  Right?  Many people use it as a higher status.  I won't deny I've felt superior as a Christian before.  Oh come on, we've all done it.  (That is, of course, if you are a Christian.)

Often times Christianity is used as a status.  It's seen as something to glorify a person in a way that, well, when you really think about it, Christianity doesn't really do. What I've come to find out over the past few years is this:

When I declare that I am a Christian I am saying that I am an imperfect being.  I can't be a good person all by myself.  I'm declaring that I fail often and I lean on my church and my fellow believes to help my get back up again to succeed.  Maybe by saying I'm a Christian I'm declaring that I'm less superior to others because I need help in life.  I wouldn't go to church if I didn't need help and guidance.   In school we never want to admit that we need a tutor in math.  The superior kids are the ones who know what they're doing without any help, right? Think about it.  So maybe a better way to look at Atheists are the kids who don't think they need any help in math but eventually they won't get that great of a grade.  Hard work pays off, you know.  Do you hate someone who is struggling in math because they refuse to do things the way that will help them the most?  Sometimes, maybe.  That doesn't mean we should, but it also doesn't mean we should parade our Christianity like a gilded crown, either.

 In some instances, Christianity could be looked at as an affliction.  If you have anxiety, wouldn't you take anxiety pills to help calm you down?  So in this case, Church is my medication for a disease called being a human.

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Football. And I'm talking the American kind.

Before you read this, this post is going to be opinionated.  If you like football, you might as well start writing the hate comments now (which, please, I welcome that.  I don't get very many comments on a regular basis, and I would love hear your side of the story)

So I sit here and listen to my new favorite thing: Young the Giant.  I'm stuck on writing my book (I need to start doing research and this is a problem) and I really don't have anything else to do.  What does that mean?  It's blogging time!  I'm going to talk about football.  If you're like me, your thinking: "Yuuuhhck.  What a waste of my life.  Totes clicking off of this lame blog." And I'm like, Fo-sho.  Do it.  I understand, but . . . wait.  I actually . . . to tell the truth . . . stay, would you?

Football.  This is a sport that I hate.  I don't like to use that word a whole lot.  This doesn't mean that I'm above hating stuff.  I'm human, after all.  I just know that it's wrong to be so harsh.  Most of the time I don't really hate what I said I hate.  I just hate the idea of it.  See, what if I had a best friend and he played football?  (I can honestly tell you I don't, but this is an analogy.)  He's the nicest guy you'll ever meet.  He treats people right and he's what a christian is supposed to be.  He's also really good at football and doesn't let the game blow up his head like an atomic bomb.  So, yes I would root for him.  I would probably watch him play all the time, and really get into the sport.  But only because he would be playing.  That's the point.

PEOPLE are the reason I've come to hate this game so much.  Have you ever heard that idiotic song The Boys of Fall?  I'm sorry if I've offended you by telling you that I HATE HATE HATE that song.  Although, I've probably already insulted you by telling you I hate football.  God knows my town would murder me if they knew I don't like football.  It's like being a communist governor.  Truth be told, not very many people know that much about me, so they just assume I'm like everyone else in that town.  Gah, it's like we're the Borg or something.  Well anyway, let me tell you why I hate that song.  One stanza of lines goes like this:  "In little towns like mine that's all they got, Newspaper clippings fill the coffee shops, The old men will always think they know it all, Young girls will dream of the boys of fall."

Okay.  First line: "In little towns like mine that's all they got."  This is true.  The way it's said here, it makes it sound like it's something of glory that we can appreciate.  We don't have astronauts going up into space near us, we don't have movie stars parading down red carpets just a block over.  We don't have much.  But if you look at it the way I do, in a town like that, football is the only thing that's important to anyone.  Sometimes it's more important than going to church even though Technically we play this game with prayers to God.  Don't get me wrong, people should be talking to God about their breakfast.  Have a relationship with God.  But people act sometimes like playing football is God's work.  No.  It's not.  Loving you're neighbor is God's work.  And I know very dang well that there are jerks on that football team that are such big hotshots.  They are definitely not spreading the word of God.  There's so much more we could focus on.  LIKE SAVING THE ECOSYSTEM. (But nooo... they all don't believe that Global Warming is real . . .)

Second line: "Newspaper clippings fill the coffee shops."  Ha! If we even had a coffee shop in town.  But you get the idea.  These football players are all viewed by the community as Nice Young Men with Futures.  They're labeled as faithful because this is a faithful community and anyone who's really good a football surely is the best person.  You know what?  They are so full of themselves!  They all drink just as much as the bad kids.  But the community had labeled the bad kids as bad because they're unproductive and they aren't active in the community.  They just can't seem to see that maybe they just don't like to play sports.  I never did.  This same policy goes for any sport.  A girl with a bad home life that hangs out with the bad kids and drinks and smokes gets pregnant.  Everyone tut-tuts.  It was expected.  That's what her kind does.  They turn their noses the other way.  Oh, but they won't judge her.  Not openly, that is.  A girl who is really good at basketball get's pregnant.  It doesn't matter what the circumstances are or whether she has a good home life.  She's popular.  Not just in school but in the community as well.  She will get sympathy.  They'll tut-tut for the first few months, but once her belly starts to show, everyone will get excited for her new baby.  Her mistake will be accepted like it wasn't a mistake at all.

Don't get me wrong.  You need to show love to everyone no matter what they've ever done.  It wasn't wrong of them to be nice to the basketball player because she got pregnant.  But because they didn't acknowledge her doing anything wrong she's probably going to have another kid in a few years with someone else.  And how did they treat the first girl?  She's not a part of their social class, so they ignored her.

But back to football. Third line: "Young girls will dream of the boys of fall." This I think, is the worst line.  As we've previously stated, football is glorified to be something much bigger than it really needs to be.  What this is saying is the only thing that matters is a sport that can only be played by boys.  What that is saying is that only boys could do something this important.  And what can girls do?  All girls are capable of doing is swooning.  That's right, girls.  You've been reduced to a fried haired, hollow, make-up caked idiot that can do nothing more than drool over boys who play a stupid sport and think they're dominant.  They'll never treat their girlfriends right, but that won't matter because they're gods, aren't they?  And as females, it's our job to worship them, yes?  So ladies, let's get to work and start building our shrines in your respecting school colors.  It's bowing time.

Thursday, September 5, 2013

I got Nominated!

My loverly new blogging friend at: Escaping Normal nominated me for the Liebster award!  I really don't know what it is, but I FEEL SO AWESOME RIGHT NOW!

So, there are rules that go with this thing.
1. Link back to the person who nominated you. (Check!)
2. Answer the 11 questions given to you by the nominee
3. Pick 11 bloggers with under 200 followers to be nominated
4. Come up with 11 questions for you nominees to answer
5. Notify the Nominees.

So, like I said, Leah Lotus at nominated me! (: Thanks, Leah. (:  She has eleven questions for me, so I guess I'll answer those.

Q: How did you come up with your blog name? 

A: Well, when I was a baby I used to cry so much that my dad called me a magpie (a bird known for being loud).  The name sounded so similar to my own nickname: Maddie; it clicked.  So, it's sort of a childhood name that I really like and try to incorporate into everything.

Q: Dream Job?

A: I want to be a published author so badly.  I'm also really into visual arts, and I hope to incorporate this into my job by writing and illustrating children's books.

Q: What's the last movie you've seen?  Rate it.

A: Uhhmm... this is hard because I can't remember.  That last time I watched a movie at home?  The last movie I watched in the movie theater was Star Trek Into Darkness, which was FABULOUS.  Waitor?  I need five stars over here please.  Chris Pine.  Is.  My.  Soul Mate.

Q: What was the most annoying song of the summer?  Why?

A: I don't know.  I'm not much of a music-holic, so I couldn't tell you.

Q: Pancakes or Waffles?

A: Mmm... neither?  Well, I guess If I have to pick I pick pancakes but only if my sister makes them.

Q: Favorite superhero?

A: I really like Batman movies and the Iron Man movies . . . so either one of those.  I'd like to say Captain America because he's so handsome, but I haven't actually seen the movie, so that's cheating.

Q: What color would you use to describe you as a person?

A: Purple!

Q: Guilty Pleasure?

A: Um... reading stupid books like that crap Cassandra Clare writes, because after I'm done reading them I tell myself I was stupid for ever picking the book up in the first place knowing it was going to end like this.

Q: Who inspires you?

A: A friend of mine from church camp.  I won't say her name as this is my blog and not hers and I would need her permission to do that, but she is one of the most Godly people I know.

Q: If any, what quote or saying do you live by?

A: "Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can." -John Wesley

Well . . . I don't exactly know eleven bloggers, so I'm going to have to cheat.  I'm sorry.  Here's my . . . um, one blogger.  The other two have already been nominated by other people.  Luckily, she deserves this:

Okay, other Maddie!  Here are my questions for you:

1.  What is your favorite article of clothing and why?
2.  If you were a billboard, what would you say?
3.  What's something you've never said aloud but always wanted to?
4.  What's your favorite color?
5.  When did you start blogging, and why?
6.  What TV show premier are you most looking forward to?
7.  What's your favorite Bertie Bots Every Flavor Bean?
8.  What's you're favorite book that was written before the twenty-first century?
9.  What's your favorite food?
10.  Do you hate wearing socks?
11.  What's your favorite fandom?

Tuesday, September 3, 2013


I’m utterly attached to you.
You hold me together.
A useless pile of skin
And muscles I’d be
If I didn’t have you.
And dear heaven please
Don’t you ever break
My Body.
You are my skeleton.

So, I have a question for YOU! Who is your skeleton?  It doesn't have to be a love interest, considering I don't have one myself.  I'd say my skeleton is my mom.  Who's yours? (: 

Monday, September 2, 2013

An Ode to JK Rowling

I was just on Pinterest looking at various Harry Potter things.  I couldn't wait until tomorrow (as is probably proper blog etiquette) to put up another post.  I had to do it right now, because I was just thinking that . . . Harry Potter introduced me to how much I love reading, and it has raised my expectations for books so high.  In elementary school, believe it or not, I didn't enjoy reading that much.  (We can blame it on the stupid AR points system).  Harry Potter made reading an obsession for me.  And I just want to thank JK Rowling making me a Book-o-holic.  She deserves my thanks right now, even if she never sees this blog post.

That's all.  I'll try to refrain from mega posting after this.

I've been stinged by the Stung bug

Now, if you've read Stung by Bethany Wiggins, this is not a good thing to have been stung by those genetically modified bees . . .

Anyway, all I have to say was that it was FABULOUS! Yes, yes, it was a futuristic-corrupt-government-only-teenagers-could-fix-the-problem-because-all-the-adults-are-selfish-stupid-idiots book like all of the other "Best Sellers" since the Hunger Games trilogy, but I actually liked it! There was no stupid love triangle.  (I hate love triangles.  What does that say about the main character?  That she's indecisive and she doesn't really love either one of them.)  Now, don't get me wrong, the so called "love triangle" in Hunger Games isn't a real love triangle.  Katniss doesn't really want to love anyone.  She's trying to suppress her feelings for Peeta and it turns out that Gale is a psychopathic maniac that just wants to kill everyone and he has no feelings and no heart.  When you really think about it, he loved her and she just thought of him as a friend, and he tried to convince her that she loved him.

Where was I?  I was reviewing Stung, not the Hunger Games!  Well, I give it four and a half stars, and only because it could have been longer and had more depth, but that's no reason to only have four stars. The only thing that didn't make any sense to me was in the beginning she runs into a militia camp.  They think she's a boy and she doesn't tell them any different because she's been warned not to.  There's a guy who's in charge of her and he kicks her and treats her badly, but it turns out they know each other from their past lives.  Then he starts to protect her and she goes along with it.  He doesn't even apologize for beating her.  Then they fall in love, which was pretty typical.  But, I don't know.  I still think the book was amazing. With the limited length (I read it in one day) it really does have natural progression.  The idea is so great, and I can't wait for the next one which comes out in 2014 I think.

You know what, this book really is amazing, no matter it's faults.  You want to know why?  Because I didn't put it down and say, "This is stupid," like I did with the Infernal Devices series from Cassandra Clare.  I'm sorry.  Those books are stupid, and I could write a-whole-freaking-nother blog post about why.  The Mortal Instruments was a good idea in the first book, and obviously I had to read the second book to make sure Jace and Clary weren't going to commit incest, but after the fourth book it started getting really dumb and really repetitive.  I'm not even going to watch the movie, and besides, Jace looks like a weirdo.

Point being: Read Stung by Bethany Wiggins.

Sunday, September 1, 2013


So . . . I've decided that my writing websites and need to be dedicated to one thing and one thing only: my attempt at a novel in the outside world.  I only have one book on Wattpad, so there's no problem there, but I do have a short story called Marvela posted on Figment.  I think I'm going to delete it off of Figment, but I still want it to be somewhere where I am on the internet.  So . . . I'll post it here:

My back pressed against the earthy ground.  I closed my eyes and pretended I was somewhere else.  I was in a different country perhaps.  I tried to convince my body that it was in Europe on some grassy knoll, hiding so that the world couldn’t see me.  But my body persisted that it knew I was lying in my backyard; It knew I wasn’t blissfully somewhere more exciting than my home.  I opened my eyes disappointedly. 

Rolling over onto my stomach, my fingers gently threaded themselves through the grass.  My lids closed again and I imagined I was running them through the earth’s hair.  I liked how small it made me feel.  My hands moved back and forth, as though they were shampooing the grass.  I gave a little start when they tripped over something.   Fearing a harmful, bug-like foe, I pulled my hand back abruptly, but then I scooted forward, searching for the object again with my eyes. 

The sun picked it out for me, gleaming off of the round edge of the thing.  I delicately caressed it with my fingers, wanting to make a ballet out of picking it up.  It was a necklace, I thought.  There was only about three inches of chain clinging to it desperately, unwilling to leave the pendant no matter what.  I let the broken length of rustic colored metal rope slide across my fingers. 

            The pendant was beautiful.  Tiny pink pieces of shell were arranged to make a pretty little rose.  The same rustic metal from the chain looped around the rose, framing it ornamentally.  I liked the little pendant.  It wasn’t like any of the other junk that one might find left behind in the dirt.  It felt real.  I doubted any of it was plastic, and I was glad.  It was too pretty to throw away.  I wondered whose it was. 

            I extended my arm with the necklace hanging from my thumb, index, and middle fingers.  Beneath the pendent I could envision a woman with dark coloring.  The color of the rose would suit that pigment well, I fancied.  The necklace could go with nothing better than a nice white lace dress meant for summer. 

            “Who do you belong to?”  I asked the necklace out loud because I am a hopeless romantic and I loved the story in hearing my words out loud; as if I were sitting in a novel right now.  

Maybe a girl’s boyfriend bought it for her because he really loved her.  Not that petty high school stuff.  (I’m not saying you can’t have a real relationship in high school that’s not petty, all I’m saying is that the majority of high school romances are one-week-ers; Four-month-ers.  All I’m saying is that they're terminal.  They will most likely end.)  Maybe they were dating, maybe they weren’t.  Maybe it was a long time ago when he bought her the necklace.  Maybe she never knew he existed and he loved her from afar.  I sighed and relished in the feeling of holding this treasure in my hand.  Maybe she hadn’t ever received it. I wondered if he knew I had it now.           

But, what if he had died?  Surely this necklace couldn’t be that old, and I knew it hadn’t been in my backyard that long either.  That raised the question of how it had gotten here.  The yard was surrounded in a tall wooden fence.  I tried to remember the last time there had been a large storm.  I could see the thing tossing it’s way to my home.

 “Did you ride a giant gust of wind here, my friend?  Were you accidentally abandoned by the boy who bought you before he could bestow you to his one true love?” I whispered.  I hoped no one could hear me.  I was too embarrassed by my whimsical self to let these musing be heard by anyone with ears to hear. 

A piercing ringing came to me from the house.  “Marvela, It’s Stella.  She says she thinks she left something here when she was over last weekend.”

             “Yeah, okay, I’m coming.”  I hefted myself up from the grass and clomped my way to the kitchen.  Mom handed me the chunky pink plastic 1940s phone with the thick looping wire to the wall.  I loved this phone.  I stared at it admiringly for a second or two until Stella’s muffled voice brought me back to the present.

             “Marv?  Marvela, are you there?  Are you staring out the window thinking about your old swing set?  Marvie!”

                       “I’m here Stella.  Why would I be thinking about my swing set?  I swear, Ella, you’re ridiculous sometimes.  Now, what were you calling about?” 

            “Right.  I think I left something at your house.”

                       I didn’t ask her where she thought she’d left it.  We were always in the backyard.  She talked while I contemplated things.  “What does it look like?”

             “It’s a necklace.  I think the chain broke when we were watching stars.  You do so much shifting around on the grass, I can’t imagine what you’re like falling asleep.”

             My heart dropped into the bottom of my stomach and started to sour there.  My necklace that I had found wasn’t the icon of my fancies and stories.  It was just Stella’s.  She had probably bought it in the mall.  Even worse, it most likely wasn’t from an indie store either.  There was no originality to it anymore.

             “Marv, are you okay?” Stella asked.  She knew me well, but I couldn’t let her know I’d already found it.  She knew how much things could mean to me.

                       “Yeah.  I just got distracted.  You know me,” I laughed.  The next sentence almost pained me, but I pushed it through my teeth, knowing I had to let her know I had her necklace.  “Is it a pale shell pink rose with rustic colored metal looped around it in a circle?”

             I didn’t take in any air for an eternity and more.  I’m sure in the two breaths she took to answer my heart beat a million times.

             “No, it’s a little cross.  You’re sure you haven’t seen it?”

             “No, no.  Thank the heavens, I haven’t seen it.”

             “Marvela!  I really like that necklace!  Please tell me you’ll look for it.”

            “Yes, Stella.  I’ll look for it.  I’m sorry.  I promise I’ll start looking for it as soon as I can.” 

            We clicked off at the same time, and I put the beautiful pink phone back on the wall, hugging the rose necklace with my fist.  I went to my treasure strung room and found a long thin ivory ribbon and threaded it through to replace the broken chain.  It tied neatly around my neck.

             Maybe he wasn’t so old, I mused to myself.  Perhaps the boy was still a boy and was looking for the trinket.  Until then, I would keep it safe for him to find again.

The necklace Marv finds.

Saturday, August 31, 2013

Chapter Twenty-One . . .

. . . is up to read! So please, guest, even if you stumbled upon me browsing blogs, or maybe you were doing research on an actual Magpie cry and you got my blog instead, go check out chapter twenty-one, and as a side note, I highly recommend reading chapters one through twenty first!  I really like this chapter, but after chapter twenty-two I think we'll go back to Lonny's perspective for a little while. (:

Go to My Novels tab up on the top of the page, and if you really can't find it, I'll give you a link, here:

Labor Day Weekend

So obviously with this post title I've revealed to you that I celebrate an American holiday.  Do with that what you will.  Seeing as how dangerous it is to reveal too much about yourself on the internet to people you don't know, it was rather stupid of me to start a blog, I realize, If I'm going to be worried about that.  But, I believe I've done a good enough job that you don't know my full, legal name, you don't know where I live, you don't know how old I am, or who my family is, or any of my Facebook and Twitter passwords either. (Not that I ever use Facebook and Twitter.  Those are a waste of my time)

I'm sorry . . . that was way off subject, and to start off with the blog post, too!  My real reason that I powered up my idiotic Dell Microsoft computer (Please, let Mac manna rain down from the heavens into my awaiting arms!) is to tell you that I am celebrating Labor Day Weekend doing . . . nothing!  And on top of that, my keyboard is sticking a little bit... that's annoying.  Or maybe the band-aid on my left middle finger is inhibiting my ability to type smoothly?

*Takes band-aid off*

Ah! My skin feels so weak and vulnerable and GOSH DANG WHY DID I TAKE THAT BAND-AID OFF?  I'm exposed!  My finger is exposed!

Okay . . . calm down.  Sorry for that little episode of weirdness.  (I'm actually not sorry.  If I was sorry I would have deleted that part out of the blog.)  Gosh, I'm so weird.  This blog post isn't even about what I'm doing this Labor Day Weekend because I'm not doing anything this Labor Day Weekend, so what else would I talk about?

You know, the only reason I'm typing this is because I don't feel like typing anything for Red Silk.  It's not that I have a block, I'm just not in the mood. Meh.


I'll tell you why, because if they lived closer I'd never get any writing done.  Or, I just wouldn't hang out with them like I don't hang out with anyone who does live within a mile radius of my house.

I swear, this blog post captures my inner essence, and this is why it must be posted and not deleted.  What else can I ramble on about?  (My keyboard is still sticking... qweretyuiop[]\asdfghjkl;'zxcvbnm,./   Huh.  Weird.  It wasn't any of those.  I must be imagining things.)

"I found a dead cat on the side of the road so I took it home and put honey on it then I cooked it then I ate it is that bad to do do do do do . . ."

The above statement just popped into my head and no, it is not a question of my sanity.  It's from Saturday Night Live (paraphrased, mind you) when Kristin Wiig was still on there.  Sometimes stuff like that just pops into my head.  You know what?  I wish Bill Hater hadn't left!  And Seth Meyers. ):  They make that show what it is!

Anyway... my life isn't interesting enough for me to blog about real stuff, and since I'm out of ideas, I guess I'll go.

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Escaping Normal: Noise

So... I was just browsing around and I found this blog!  Just reading this was fantastic.  I'll have to follow it!

Escaping Normal: Noise: Copyright © 2013 Noise  My best friend, Ava, is in the back getting her head chewed off by the boss. I wish the two would just get...

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Imaginary Fans are the Best Kind

Writers block is gone and frankly, I don't care if no one is reading.  I'm excited about this book, so why shouldn't I just pretend like everyone else is too?  I'm just happy I'm back in the writing groove.  If you too are one of my Imaginary fans, please go check out my writing tab!  If you don't see it up there ^ then here is a link to help you:

I really enjoyed finishing chapter twenty (once I shook off my writer's block) and I can't wait to start chapter twenty-one!  I'm really loving my new characters Jack and Simone and I'm thinking that I'll keep them in the journey for awhile.

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Nothings There and No One's Reading

I can't write.  I'm stuck on chapter twenty for Red Silk, and no flow is coming.  Also, I can't find my simple little one page plot line.  I'm thinking maybe if I glance at it my mind with start spewing stuff again.  It is nowhere.  In addition to that, I need to do some research and I haven't found anything yet.  Why does no one in the world no anything about the flying trapeze? Gosh, I know this book is going to be crap.  It probably is since no one's reading it.

At this point I don't even care if anyone likes it.  I just wish people would comment on it and TELL me what it needs.  Even if they tell me how much they hate it, I would love to hear anything from anybody.

I need some inspiration. ):

Monday, August 5, 2013

To Boldly Go . . .

 . . . and I had a sudden need for tea, but wait! I remembered we had bought some Earl Grey tea a few weeks ago and I hadn't yet tried it.  As I pulled out the box of tea bags I thought of Captain Picard and how strange and interesting he would think my preparing methods were.  The only thing that's similar to a replicator is my mug of water heating up in the microwave.

For those who do not know who Captain Picard is, or what in the heck a replicator does, I'm referring to one of my most favorite shows: Star Trek: The Next Generation.  It's my favorite among all of them.  I haven't ever watched Voyager and I've only seen movies from the originals, although I vow to watch every single original Star Trek episode, even if I have to laugh at William Shatner's dramatic pauses.

I have wanted to drink Earl Grey tea for some time as it is Captain Picard's signature drink.  In almost every episodes he commands "Earl Grey, hot." from the replicator.  I'd been told before that it tasted like laundry soap.  As I smelled the tea pouch I found that the smell did indeed remind me of soap, but it had more of an herbal, organic smell.  On drinking it with my nose pinched closed it only tasted like ordinary tea.  (I've seen something somewhere {Globe Trekker, History Channel, Pinterest, etc.} that smell has a lot to do with how we associate taste.  If you pinch your nose closed while eating a hamburger, they said, it might not really taste that good after all.)  So I think the smell is what is so unique about it.  Personally, I liked the herbal smell.  I didn't think too much of laundry soap when I drank it, and I will continue to drink Earl Grey tea, so as to become as Picard-like as I can.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Eating makes Me Shudder

Do you ever have that one thing that irks you to your very core?  Like, no matter where you are on the sanity scale, this will push you over the edge of the crazy abyss.

For me, this is the sound of eating.  It's tolerable if the eater's mouth is closed, but the nasty sound of saliva losing and gaining suction to different parts of the mouth is just . . . oh, it makes me gag.  This doesn't really register for some people.  It's like no one can hear other people eating but me.  I will concede  that although I try my very best to keep my mouth closed when I eat, I surely (shudder) make these noises too.  I'm never aware of it when I myself am doing the very thing that drives me up the wall.  That's the curse though, isn't it?

And it truly is a curse.  I must go through this torture almost alone, I mean, why does it have to bother me? Why can't I be deaf to the sounds just like most of the rest of the world?  And then, I must keep silent about what makes me tick because it's offensive.  If I told you the sound of your eating was bothering me, you would think I was being jerkish. I totally understand.  If you told me the sound of my eating was bothering you, I would be really offended at you too.  That's why it's a curse.  I'm not right or wrong in having this particular irritation.  The world isn't right or wrong for not having the same irritation that I have.

And now I digress from this rant . . .

Thursday, July 11, 2013

I love it but it hurts so bad . . .

The internet hurts my brain.  Gah, and I hate that.  Finally when I've decided I'm done with the web for that moment (and my brain is pounding just a little, you cursed backlight) then something else pops into my head that I could do, or maybe I get a notification from one of my MANY writing websites, or maybe for some stupid reason I feel the need to blog about my brain hurting only prolonging my computer exposure.

Thing is, I'm a little worried.  It looks like we're stepping into a digital age.  If we start using nothing but electronics with LED retina mega awesome screen display, how will I ever do anything for more than an hour without burning my eyes out and completely frying my brain to ashes?  This is why I never wanted a Kindle Fire, despite how "cool" they are.  I just wanted e-ink display so that I could read and read and read, and continue to read without a problem.  (By the way, the Kindle Paperwhite is fab and I totes love it to death {she says totes mockingly because there is no way on earth she could say that out loud without sounding idiotic.})  Does anyone else have a low tolerance to artificial light? (And by artificial light, I don't mean lamps.)

Ahhhh. (shaking my head)  Actually, I'm not shaking my head.  And, I could have said smh but I felt it would be more classy if I actually typed it out ya know, because immediately when I see smh I don't see "Shaking my head." I just see an S, and M, and an H.  It takes a second for my brain to connect, and then it's lost the feeling that those letters are supposed to portray because you're too busy thinking about what they mean.

Way to go off subject.  Anyway . . .

But seriously, that was just a pointless rant (isn't that what blogs are for?) and I'm gunna go try and do something productive now.

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Leggings > Pants

Whoever said leggings aren't pants are right.  They aren't pants.  But what if I don't want to wear real pants? But . . . wait, wait, wait, wait.  I haven't ever heard anyone say that yoga pants aren't pants.  You can't just not say that yoga pants aren't pants because they have the word pants in their name.  But we all know why people say leggings aren't pants.  It's because they're so tight.  Technically it's because they're so thin, but if you made equally thin dress pants that didn't hug you like a long lost family member I really don't think anyone would complain.

But . . . you know what?  People have opinions, and rightly so.  I just like wearing leggings, and if they aren't pants, then so be it.  I mean, people have started to not really wear shirts either.  Not that I'm going to do that.  I totally couldn't pull that off.  I just like wearing leggings. (:

I don't know... they're like the comfort of sweatpants and the fashion of skinny jeans, but with a relaxed feeling.  They're an accessory piece technically so they can be dressed down and dressed up easily.  Well... that's my take on it, anyway.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Crazy me...

I change my blog too many times.  Hopefully this will be the last one.

On another note, I'm sort of fed up with figment.  I've gone to wattpad now.  I know, I know, I'm just "social writing website" hopping.  I'll always stay tried and true to scribeslice.  They're my favorite even if the format of the website could be a bit cooler.  I love them anyway.  I'll be adding my book's address on wattpad just for the heck of it.

Saturday, July 6, 2013

A helpful of Spirit

I've just got back from an amazing experience I do every summer.  I've spent a week with my spiritual family; people who I know and people who I don't that I love and will continue to love.  And I've spent a week closer to my creator.  I should be as close to him as I can any time of the year, but it's hard.   We all agree to that, and at this place it's just so much easier without the worries of the world pressing in from all sides.

I'm gunna miss everyone dearly.

Another thing I realized this week is how proud I am to be a Methodist. I love our ways.  They conform to me more that I've ever realized, and I'm thankful for John and Charles Wesley for starting the Methodist movement.  Where would I be without them?

Now that the week is over I guess I've got to get back to everyday life, but I will be more enlightened; my faith strengthened.  I'm going to go into my church and make changes for the better.

And I continue Red Silk.

I've joined another writing website, on another note, and I can't decide if this is counterproductive or not.  Sure, it can promote my work and I love getting as much feedback as I can, but are all these websites distracting me from the thing I really should be doing which is writing?  It's just that these websites give me more of a feeling of being a published author than anything else.  I'm not ready for real publishing, and it's perfect for feeling important without foolishly self publishing your books. (Don't get me wrong, I'm not condemning any self publishers, it's just that rarely do you see a self published book flourish.  No, I need a publishing company on my side.  I'm just not ready for the commitment of due dates for manuscripts yet.  I also need to take time and improve my writing before I'm ready for that stage in my writing life)

Back to writing and life.  Goodbye friends, and God Bless.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Panic is Poison

Hey all!  I've added chapter ten to my book, Red Silk.  The chapter is called Panic is Poison.  You can access my book on the tab that says My Writing or click the link here:

If you haven't ever read Red Silk before, go right on ahead and let me know what you think of it! (:

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Continuing to be a Little Crafty . . .

Yay!  My two clear iPhone 4S cases came in!  So I started on the next one, and well, sort of finished it in two days. (Cough, Cough!  I just finished putting the second coat of modpodge finishing sealant on there, and that stuff stinks!)

So I started this time with a two piece clear case for the iPhone 4S

This is the back.  (And in the corner you can see my previous project)
My painting mess.

This is the drawing outline I did.

And the finished product!  I really like how the yellow accents came out.

Back and Front.  (Sorry, these pics are a little fuzzy)
 Anyway, one left to go!  Here's the original picture that I used for the design inspiration:

Obviously, this one looks much better than mine, but we can just say I "made it my own" (:

Saturday, June 22, 2013

I finished my book, so what do I do now?

Real work? Writing? I guess I'll have to. ): Well anyway, the book is called: The Name of The Star by Maureen Johnson.  Ah! It was a fantastic read! It's refreshing because it's a teen fiction novel without all that crap in there that most teen fiction  novelists put in.

It sort of reads more like a crime novel than a drama infested fantasy-mythical-creatures-scifi-nonsense book. (Okay this doesn't have anything to do with anything, but does it only drive me nuts that there is no indenting? I push indent on my computer and no! It doesn't indent! It's like a stinking email or something! Okay, done with that rant...). Where was I? Oh!  It starts off in a very relatable way.  The main character, Rory, has a somewhat dry and sarcastic humor that had me actually making out-loud-noises.  You really get to know her.  The only downside is that there's a bit where I guess it's supposed to be suspenseful, but I never felt like anything was really going to happen.  She makes up for it later when they go into the bad guy's lair.  That part is so good!  I loved it, minor flaws aside.  I absolutely loved this book.

Friday, June 21, 2013

. . . which is why I'll never be an editor.

Editing my manuscript? (Sheesh, I feel like SUCH a nerd when I say that.  Manuscript.  Man-yoo-script.)  Not fun.  Nope.  Not in the least, which is why I'm blogging right now instead of editing it. Hee.  I'm such a rebel.  At least I've gotten eight chapters done.  It's strange how incredibly depressing I can get about how short the story came out to be, and yet, how does it take forever to fix all the errors?  Then I'm going to go back and rewrite a bunch of it, because, let's face it, I finished that thing a year ago.  It's all crap now, isn't it?   Yes, sure it is.

On another note, I have gotten ANOTHER idea for a book.  Another one!  I will never finish anything with so many ideas in my head!  And I've recently gotten this fascination with the word Plucky.  I'm trying to piece together a literary situation to where that could be the title of a book I write someday.  You gatta admit.  It's a pretty shnazzy title.

Also, in more unrelated news, I recently bought three new tops because of an amazing sale and it's driving me nuts that I can't wear them because it's the middle of summer and I have nowhere to go in them.

I guess I should go back to editing then . . .

Or I could just finish my book. (:


Being a little crafty (:

So, the other day I painted my phone.  (It's not an iPhone.  Meh.  It's just one of those lame LG thingies.  I couldn't even tell you what model, but you get the idea.)  I just painted the part on the back that comes off to reveal the battery.  Anyways, I got the most brilliant idea ever.  Why not paint iPhone cases?

Well, yes, as I said before, I don't have an iPhone.  What am I going to do with an IPhone case?  Frame it perhaps?  Hang it on the wall?  (That's surely abstract art, if anything else is).  But I didn't care.  I had to do this amazing idea I had in my head.  The idea then turned into future birthday present projects.  Sadly though, of the three clear (cheap, I might add.  I bought them for at most less that two dollars) iPhone cases I ordered off of amazon, one came in, and it's intended purpose is to someone whose birthday isn't for another five months.  I painted it and finished it anyway.  Way to be ahead of the game, huh?

First, I started out with a normal matted clear iPhone 5 case.  I put on a white base coat, and then I  found a cute pattern on Pinterest (don't you love that website?) to copy on top of the white!

I guess I could relay instructions, but there really weren't any crafty tricks that I used to do this.  I just tapped in to my inner artist, which is something you can do too.  I feel like this is a great idea when you want a fancy-shmancy new case for your phone, but you don't necessarily want to pay $15 or more for it.  My supplies were just paint, paintbrushes, and a clear iPhone case.

Here's another picture of the finished product below:

All I have to do now is wait for the paint to dry and then put on a couple hundred million coats of modpodge finishing spray. (:

Thursday, June 20, 2013

I'm Already Addicted

It's been, what?  An hour or two since I've had this blog?  And . . . shouldn't I be spacing out my blog posts to daily, or something?  I should do that, for my health, at least.

. . . But I was just BURSTING at the seams to share this book I finished a day after yesterday.  (Ha!  Share it with who?  Nobody reads this blog!)  Well, you know what, I'm going to share it anyway.  The book is called Gilt by Katherine Longshore.  Here's the link to the book on Amazon:

.Now, weirdly, the cover on is totally different than the cover of the book I bought.  I prefer my book cover which looks like this:

Anyway. Its a book set in the sixteenth century about Catherine Howard.  It isn't as upbeat as, oh, lets say, The Mortal Instruments series, but it's full of scandal, lies, betrayal.  (It isn't completely and horridly full of completely sinful things.  There is good in it, I swear.)  And historical fiction fans will eat it up.  I highly recommend reading it.

New to the Blogging world.

Hello blogging world!  Here I am, thinking that I could be significant enough for anyone to want to read a blog about me!

Well, you see, I am a writer.  My life's dream is to be published.  Oh, the best feeling in the world is going to be when I walk into a bookstore, and behold!  There, nestled among many bestsellers could be something of my own creation.

So, this blog.  Why did I create a blog?  I'm still asking myself that question too.  Nobody's going to be interested in what I have to say!  I don't have beauty tips, cooking tips, or family tips that could be spread all around Pinterest for millions to gaggle at.  I'm not published yet, not well known yet.  I'm not even going to put a real picture of myself up, or link myself to any website (Facebook, Twitter) where I could be recognized.  (Sorry guys, stranger danger.)  But, maybe that's the reason.  I could promote my writing without really being seen at all.  Maybe you don't understand, but I'm fairly certain that none of my Facebook or twitter friends give a hoot or holler about my writing pursuits.  Not that you do either.  I guess I'm writing this with the knowledge that no one will read this at all.  Then why are you writing it?  You ask?  I like the novelty of a blog?  I don't know.  I have no clue.

I suppose it doesn't matter what I blog.  I'm thoroughly convinced no one will find it anyway, so what the heck?