tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69720314767691210692024-03-14T07:40:53.221-05:00The Cries of a MagpieMagpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-74565814246611947122014-02-28T13:53:00.000-06:002014-02-28T13:53:08.230-06:00Changing LocationI've decided that I want a blog that's more on the "up and up". Though blogger suits my needs, it's not altogether eye catching. They say you can't judge a book by it's cover and yet a cover is exactly what makes people want to read your book.<br />
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I supposed I'm saying that the same goes for a blog. Lots of people have blogs and anyone can use them, but who are the people who are the most noticed? Yeah. Those guys with the fancy-shmancy websites.<br />
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I am reluctant to leave. Though I have four followers so far, I have been able to sort of connect with those four followers. I may not be able to do this since I'm changing to a new sight and I sort of don't want to loose that. I've got to go anyways, though.<br />
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I won't delete this website or any other posts in the hope that it'll still be stumbled upon. If you still want to follow me and keep up-to-date with my posts, I believe you can put this web address into your blog's reading list: http://madelyncozette.wordpress.com/<br />
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Thank you to all who have read anything that I've written.<br />
<br />Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-88540209264458196222014-02-23T16:12:00.001-06:002014-02-23T16:12:27.947-06:00Parties are StupidYeah, drinking, grinding, inappropriate parties <i>are</i> stupid. But that wasn't the type of party I was talking about. I meant political parties.<br />
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Plain and simple if you asked me I would automatically tell you I'm a democrat. I would tell you with a lifted nose and a "deal with it" gaze because I live in a strictly republican town and over the years I've convinced myself that that's what I've got to do. I've got to assert myself as the dolphin because the sharks will eat me if I don't tell them that I am proud of what I am.<br />
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That's the thing though. I've always thought I was right, being democratic. It didn't feel like I was biased because I was working against the grain. I wasn't believing what everyone else was, so I felt justified in my actions. But I am no better. I'll jump into a fight with the best of them, using my claws and elbows. I'm a political fighter even though I claim to be a pacifist. I will defend my democratic party and it's views tooth and nail. But isn't that what the republicans are doing too?<br />
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So how am I different than them? I used to scoff at them, calling them closed minded and conservative. Mind you, they are conservative, but still. I didn't see that I was just as biased as I blamed them for being. If you look at it, we're exactly the same, we just hide behind different issues. We throw the exact same insults at eat other; they're just aimed at different ideas.<br />
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Here are two true scenarios. I'll not say that I agree with or disagree with either one:<br />
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<b>Scenario #1</b>: The democrats want affordable health care for everyone. The most extreme republican will say that this action will tilt the government into socialism, <i>gasp</i>, maybe even communism. If we're forcing everyone to buy this health care when some people may not want to buy it, isn't that unconstitutional? Besides, it's hurting small businesses as well, and the program doesn't even work well. It's extremely faulty.<br />
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<b>Scenario #2</b>: The republicans want to make abortion illegal. The democrats say that you can't do that. That's telling someone what to do. The American people have rights, don't they? They have the right to decide if they want to have a baby or not. I mean, what if a woman was raped? She didn't ask for that to happen to her. It wasn't her fault. Why is it the government's job to restrict her rights, her, the victim?<br />
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Do you see the similarities? Maybe the democrats don't use the word <i>Communism </i>to insult republicans, but it's basically the same argument, just different topics. <b>Scenario #1</b>: The democrats want to continue a program that the republicans think is unconstitutional. <b>Scenario #2</b>: The republicans want to pass a law that the democrats think is unconstitutional. You see what I mean? It's the same thing, and yet we can't see that. We're too blinded by our parties. We're too blinded by who's right and who's wrong, and most times we just end up either hating whoever the president is, or hating who ever hates who the president is.<br />
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Now, I've begun to believe that opinions are big and ugly, but I'll tell you mine now. I think that Obama Care does need a little work. I will admit to that. But I think it's a good idea. Just because we're so afraid of becoming communists, does that mean we can't even help out our own people who are in need? Maybe there are some catches to the program and to what it will entail, but all in all, I think it comes from a good place. On the abortion one, I have to agree with the republicans. I didn't used to because I don't like the idea of telling people what they can and can't do. But if I really think about it, life is life. No one has the right to take away life except for the God in our big, blue, unimaginable sky. Perhaps if the mother is dying and there's no way to save the baby, abortion is alright in order to keep the mother's life intact, but for the most part I do agree with republicans.<br />
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Still, I do think opinions are ugly. They're so in-your-face that I've decided I don't want to be a democrat anymore. I used to think that I had to fight for the right to not be a republican so that meant I had to pretend like I was better than everyone who was republican. That's wrong. That makes me stuck up and big headed, and it gives me an excuse to get riled up over politics. Knowing me, it's not hard for me to do. So this is what I'm going to do. I'll be an independent. Probably when it comes time to make decisions, I will sway more towards the democratic side, but I'm tired of holding up my giant lofty democratic party feathers. I'm tired of saying I'm right and the republicans are wrong, because when it comes down to it, we're all saying the same things. We're all shouting at each other over nothing, and I'm ready to stop.<br />
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And to you democrats and republicans who are reading this and are already forming your opinions, I welcome the tomatoes that you might want to throw at me. There is a comment section below. I don't mean this disrespectfully, but have at it. (:Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-79332796705977945602014-02-21T19:38:00.001-06:002014-02-21T19:42:06.345-06:00Allons-y Alonzo! So I have recently watched six Doctor Who seasons in . . . oh, two weeks? Let me tell you, I'm a Doctor Who-a-holic. Netflix doesn't have anything past season six and I'm rotting inside of myself without Matt Smith wearing a fez. I need Matt Smith wearing a fez, like, now. Also, if we're going to do that, let's just bring back David Tennant and Rose. Oh, the lament of the Whovian. I've become one now and I lament along with everyone. AND DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME ANYTHING PAST SEASON SIX. I won't listen. I won't.<br />
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River Song? I just can't decide if I like her or not. I mean, I like her, but I don't know . . . I feel like we're cheating on Rose. And yes, I did just refer to the Doctor as though he and I were a joined being. We might as well be, I mean I have to feel all of his feels, don't I? Ha, I just realized, if you're reading this and you've never watched Doctor Who, you have no idea what I'm talking about. Well you know what? Watch it right now if you haven't. Then come back and you'll understand. You'll probably understand more than me because you'll <i>probably </i>get to watched past season six, you stupid stupid face.<br />
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And I'm drawing a picture of David Tennant in my sketch book. (: It's not done yet, obviously, but take a look anyways:<br />
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Yeah, the picture's a little dark. His face needs a little bit more work. Blending and all that. Plus he doesn't have a left hand. Hands are tricky, especially when they're small. But I think he'll be fantastic when he's done. Once he's got trousers and all of that. You know. I wish I could have found one of him in his pinstripe suit and his coat, but this is the one in his blue suit. Like Rose's Donna/Doctor. Aww... now I'm sad again. SHE KISSED THE WRONG DOCTOR IS WHAT! That's why he went on a raging rampage of unstable feelings-ness. It was because she didn't kiss <i>him</i>. Or at least, that's what I think. Poor doctor. It's okay. I understand you BETTER THAN ROSE DOES. Just kidding. If the doctor doesn't marry Rose I'll die. Except for he marries River Song. The little cheat! DAVID TENNANT WOULDN'T STAND FOR THIS! Even though I love River Song.</div>
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I'm so conflicted. I'm also on Doctor Who withdrawal. This fact means that I'm a little bit moody and unstable. I need my Matt Smith in a fez. Better yet, Christopher Eccleston. Let's bring him back. I love him so much. I love them all! Why can't they all come back and be the sole Doctor Who at the same time? GAAHHH PLEASE I JUST WANT TO HAVE YOU ALL!</div>
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This show runs my emotions. I'm serious. How will I cope without season seven?</div>
Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-49247574980172750382014-01-25T10:13:00.001-06:002014-01-25T10:13:36.940-06:00Overprotective Love InterestsI hate overprotective love interests. Now, yes, it's sweet that the man loves the main heroine, but for crying out loud, she's the <i>heroine! </i> Don't you think she can take care of herself?<br />
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This trend is most prominent in fantasy books, I've found, as those are the types of books where the main character is plunging herself into immediate danger. So, let's set the scene: the mystical woman with her magic powers has to defeat the other mystical woman who has magical powers who only slightly differs from her because she's evil. Right. So then enters "Love Interest." He's tall, handsome, manly, and probably has abs. (He also probably doesn't own a shirt if it's the same-old stupid fantasy book that's ever been written.) Well, she tell him of this quest she has to go on and he says he's coming with her to protect her. This is the first sign of overprotective love interests.<br />
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Well they go plodding along in search of the destination for this quest. He is kind, understanding, and helpful, even. He will follow the heroine wherever she goes. They run from the same enemy together and devise plans on how to trick the enemy together.<br />
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Then something happens to "Love Interest"'s mind. The heroine told him so many months ago "I am a powerful magical being that is the last of her kind and I must go and defeat my enemy. I have deep power within myself even though I am incapable of doing absolutely anything. I am no match against my enemy even though we all know I'm going to viciously kill her in the end. Surprise. Surprise." and it's just now penetrating the inner membranes of his cranium. He just now realizes that his heroine is putting herself in direct danger and now he's not going to let her do anything but be a helpless and brainless woman while he plays "man" and protects her.<br />
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She get's mad at him, as any woman who had incomprehensible power might do. She disobeys his commands to get below, behind, and out of sight, and goes above and beyond in the call of duty. She shows that she is capable of fighting the enemy better than he ever could with his mundane tools. He get's mad at her because she is a sensible woman who doesn't need a man to rule her life. He insists that he needs to protect her by risking her life instead of hers. Apparently he thinks this is a valid argument because he's a man and she's just a stupid incapable and frail woman, despite the cosmic powers she's already displayed to him millions of times.<br />
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She is still attracted to her so called "Love Interest" even though she's made herself into the stupid woman he thinks she is by arguing with him and pounding at his chest in anger oh-so-heroically. Eventually they have a fallout and he pulls up the point of "can't you see what you're doing to me?" blah blah blah. She consents that he's right even though he's being selfish by telling her she can't fight for herself if she's going to get killed when he's going to put himself into danger just as much as she would. She turns into a stupid and dainty woman and let's him think he's the only person that can do anything because he's the man.<br />
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You know what? I would've dumped him months ago. He needs to realize that their situation warrants danger on both of their parts and that she is just
as capable at defending herself. She's
not a useless woman and he shouldn't treat her like one. She can fight just as well as he can and she
can help too. He shouldn't be thinking
that she's stupid. I think if they get
married he's going to treat her like property and so help me if I have the love
interest rescue my women in a book, let a million pounds of books fall atop my
head for my stupidity. He's such a baby
when she tries to put him out of the way of danger, and he resents her, but
she's expected to just go along with whatever he says? No. I don't think so!<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Yeah, well, I was reading this book and I was getting really
fed up with the characters. If you
couldn't tell.<o:p></o:p></div>
Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-5041942179040615532014-01-22T17:55:00.003-06:002014-02-23T16:13:39.268-06:00*Do you ever get scared of yourself?<br />
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Just a minute ago I was walking from my bedroom to the living room. I had thought I'd heard my dad's voice and as I walked into the hall my brain conjured up this strange, inhuman looking mustached person who looks nothing like my dad at all and it said "<i>What if this guy popped up around the corner?"</i> It then proceeded to subconsciously convince me that I would see this weird cartoon-y figure and I had a mini-heart attack. That all happened in around three seconds.<br />
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Most of the time this crazy wacko brain stuff happens to me when I'm in between waking and sleeping. Like I'm convinced that I <i>have</i> to stay asleep without a real reason why. My brain just tells me that it's imperative not to get out of that heavy coma-like state that keeps you asleep. <br />
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Or, like when I'm really <i>really </i>zoned out I'll start daydreaming about something like trying to pick an object up. I try to do it and then the thing is out of my hands halfway after I've picked it up and it's on the floor again. Like my brain is <i>taunting </i>me or something. I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy and maybe I'm just desperate for a blogging topic. <br />
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Do you ever dream you're somewhere and then you half-wake up and you get really confused? I hate those dreams that are <i>so </i>convincing you think that they're real life. Or those memories you have that are really dreams? Those are pretty freaky too. I just think our minds are really complex things.<br />
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I can't remember my dreams from last night, but I do remember this dream I had when I was four or five. The dream starts and I find myself stuck in the ground, like a nail and there are these bull dozes closing in on me about to run me over. My mom is with me, similarly stuck in the ground and I'm screaming for my dad and my sister. For help, or just because I don't know where they are I'm not sure, but that had to be the single most scariest nightmare I have ever had in my life.<br />
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Nowadays I find my dreams are my subconscious brain telling me stories. I guess that's what I get for being a writer. (:Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-34797640409305886622014-01-21T20:00:00.000-06:002014-01-21T20:00:19.363-06:00Prom-Date-Mania Induced PanicMy family finally took down our Christmas stuff yesterday. It's sort of sad, but I guess it means we have to move on with life and with our year. I guess I'm alright with that, I mean, I already have to endure mind numbing school again, so what's one more thing?<div>
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But . . . what do I have to look forward to anymore? I really don't know. Spring break isn't for another month. Prom is earlier than usual this year, but honestly prom was pretty lame last year. And I went with this guy who wouldn't let me dance with anyone else. Not exactly a good experience. But what do I do? It's (<i>and shhh! This is a secret and you aren't supposed to tell anybody</i>) Gatsby themed. Kind of just like everybody else in America's prom theme, but, you know. I have loved the 1920s for FOREVER and my most favorite-est book set in that time period is called Diviners by Libba Bray.</div>
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(Oh, she's fabulous. I just looked it up on amazon.com like a second ago and <i>the second one is out!</i> Guess what I'm spending my money on soon? Also, I noticed she changed the cover and I'm a little upset because I really liked the art-deco swirls and all-seeing eye thing she had going on. Boo Libba, why did you do that? But if that's the only poop she ever does, then I'm still satisfied with her, unlike stupid Veronica Roth who I still think ended her last book idiotically and sometimes wonder if her publisher kidnapped her, tied her up in a closet and wrote the last book against Veronica's will, threatening her family and well being. I can dream can't I?)</div>
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Did I just make a whole paragraph out of that parenthesis? Yes I did. Anyway, it's Gatsby and there is NO WAY I can pass up the opportunity to buy a flapper dress and slink into that speak-easy themed prom with a Fascinator around my eyes. Except for: I can't go through prom-date-mania induced panic again.</div>
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You know. When you have no idea who you're going to ask to go with you when you know you can't go by yourself. I don't know about you, but my school's prom's entrance is just as important as the dress you are wearing and the date that you carry on your arm like a Coach purse. I don't have a fancy car and I definitely won't walk. But . . . the guy who I want to go with would never go with me. I usually leave these "limo" arrangements to the guy, but the guy who I would settle with might actually not go with me either. You know the drill ladies. This is prom-date-mania induced panic. And to top if all off, like I said earlier, prom is EARLIER. I have to make a decision sooner! I just want a friend to go to prom with so it'll be fun! Why does this have to be so hard? Why did the theme have to be so hard to turn away from?</div>
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GAH!</div>
Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-35054412846665962352014-01-01T17:28:00.001-06:002014-01-01T17:28:27.805-06:00It's Twenty-Fourteen!Well I . . . I've been gone for awhile, yes. I could say I was gone because of semester tests, and that would be true for about a week (because my stupid teachers thought they wouldn't review us until a few days before. <i>Grrrrr...</i>) I could say I was gone because of the holidays, which is also true, but the real reason I've been gone for so long is because NOTHING HAPPENS IN MY LIFE. This is one of those blog posts where I'm only posting because I feel so guilty about not posting for a month.<br />
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Sooo.... what do I talk about? Mmmm, I'm thinking the whole "What I Got for Christmas Haul!" thing is a little narcissistic. I could do a "New Years Resolution" post, but nobody cares about that. I don't even care about my own resolutions.<br />
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The only thing I can think of that I'm excited about is books! I think I'm going to add some new Wattpad books to my "<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6972031476769121069#editor/target=page;pageID=6758194195353405742" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 34px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-overflow: ellipsis; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: nowrap;">Books I Love</a>" page. I'll stop talking and post them:<br />
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<br />Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-77193859535755057652013-11-25T18:37:00.001-06:002013-11-25T18:47:25.044-06:00In Exactly One MonthIt'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 <i>some </i>people." <br />
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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 . . .) <br />
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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?<br />
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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 <i>feeling</i> that comes along with it that I guess Thanksgiving just doesn't. I think the whole "<i>Historical Feast of Our Ancestors with the Native Americans</i>" 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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.<br />
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#ChristmasCoutdown #OneMonth #What'sWithTheHashtags?Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-20545941263353436562013-11-17T21:06:00.001-06:002013-11-17T21:06:39.372-06:00Just 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.)<br />
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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. <br />
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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? (: Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-56775838830306426612013-11-01T22:05:00.000-05:002013-11-01T22:05:17.447-05:00I'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.<br />
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~<br />~<br />~<br />~<br />~<br />~<br />~<br />~<br />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, <b style="font-style: italic;">so </b>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 <i>real</i> 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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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: <i>Wait, which one is it now? </i>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.<br />
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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 <i>week</i> 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 <i>another</i> rebel group called the <i>Allegiant</i> 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.<br />
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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, <i>eh hem</i>, 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. <br />
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Everyone just goes along with this dumb genetic thing, right? All these Dauntless <i>trust </i>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 <i>that </i>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 <i>sooooo</i> 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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
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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?<br />
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I'm done with life. I'm going to live underground from now on. I hate all of you and everyone.Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-41202015147428652812013-10-31T19:10:00.001-05:002013-11-25T18:49:54.710-06:00Batman 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: "<i>Whhyyyy</i> <i>did you eeeeeaat that candyyyyy? Why would you dooooo this to meeee?</i>" 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 . . ."<br />
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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.<br />
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ANYWAY! The 1992 movie <i style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Newsies" style="background-image: none; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Newsies">Newsies</a> </i>(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 r<i>eeeally </i>familiar to me:<br />
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Who does that look like to you? Ringing any bells? The first thing I thought was . . . his <i>lips</i>! I've seen those lips before! (Have you guessed who it is yet?):</div>
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Look at those beautiful lips . . . don't they remind you of someone else's lips we know?</div>
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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?</div>
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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.</div>
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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!</div>
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(:</div>
Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-48493722396717464392013-10-19T14:33:00.000-05:002013-10-19T14:33:40.359-05:00#viciouscycleI 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? <br />
<br />
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 . . .<br />
<br />
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 <i>then</i> I tell myself I can't be so optimistic. That would jinx everything, obviously. HASH TAG VICIOUS CYCLE.<br />
<br />
Well, here's the problem. Correction: problems. I have a bad habit of trying to wait, <i>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! </i>Get my point?<br />
<br />
"Well (<i>this is an example</i>) 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?"<br />
<br />
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? <i>THIS</i> is what inspired everything else I wrote? How in the world? That must mean the rest of it's crap too!<br />
<br />
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?<br />
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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!<br />
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#hashtagMagpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-53825806147349576442013-10-12T12:23:00.001-05:002013-10-12T12:23:20.755-05:00Pointless and Unorganized<div style="text-align: center;">
I sit on a seat</div>
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and dig through my mind</div>
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and find</div>
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that</div>
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I don't want to do anything</div>
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but sit</div>
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on</div>
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a seat.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Fingers run </div>
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through my hair</div>
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they're</div>
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mine,</div>
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they do this</div>
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all the time.</div>
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I haven't much to say</div>
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I'd rather stay</div>
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in white nothingness</div>
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If you please.</div>
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I just don't want to</div>
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think.</div>
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It's just so hard </div>
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to write </div>
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this.</div>
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And maybe I'll quit</div>
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and maybe</div>
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I'll paint</div>
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my nails.</div>
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Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-81620830746626966772013-09-22T13:53:00.000-05:002013-09-22T13:53:54.468-05:00What 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.)<br />
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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.<br />
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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. <i>BAM. </i>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.)<br />
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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:<br />
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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.<br />
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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.Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-37143715892665109302013-09-07T14:22:00.000-05:002013-09-07T15:13:48.064-05:00Football. 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)<br />
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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: "<i>Yuuuhhck. What a waste of my life. Totes clicking off of this lame blog."</i> And I'm like, Fo-sho. Do it. I understand, but . . . wait. I actually . . . to tell the truth . . . stay, would you?<br />
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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 <i>really </i>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.<br />
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PEOPLE are the reason I've come to hate this game so much. Have you ever heard that idiotic song <i>The Boys of Fall</i>? 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: <i>"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."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Okay. First line: "<i>In little towns like mine that's all they got."</i> 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 <i>Technically</i> 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 <i>very dang well</i> that there are jerks on that football team that are such big hotshots. They are <i>definitely not</i> 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 . . .)<br />
<br />
Second line: <i>"Newspaper clippings fill the coffee shops." </i>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 <i>bad</i> 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 <i>bad</i> 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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
But back to football. Third line: "<i>Young girls will dream of the boys of fall." </i>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 <i>that</i> is saying is that only boys could do something this important. And what can girls do? All girls are capable of doing is <i>swooning</i>. 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.Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-7760950098968223122013-09-05T17:30:00.002-05:002013-09-05T17:30:47.169-05:00I got Nominated!My loverly new blogging friend at: <a href="http://escapingnormal.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: #f9f9f9; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 2px; padding: 0px;" target="post">Escaping Normal</a> nominated me for the Liebster award! I really don't know what it is, but I FEEL SO AWESOME RIGHT NOW!<br />
<br />
So, there are rules that go with this thing.<br />
<i>1. Link back to the person who nominated you.</i> (Check!)<br />
<i>2. Answer the 11 questions given to you by the nominee</i><br />
<i>3. Pick 11 bloggers with under 200 followers to be nominated</i><br />
<i>4. Come up with 11 questions for you nominees to answer</i><br />
<i>5. Notify the Nominees.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
So, like I said, Leah Lotus at <a href="http://escapingnormal.blogspot.com/">http://escapingnormal.blogspot.com/</a> nominated me! (: Thanks, Leah. (: She has eleven questions for me, so I guess I'll answer those.<br />
<br />
<b>Q: How did you come up with your blog name? </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
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.<br />
<br />
<b>Q: Dream Job?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
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.<br />
<br />
<b>Q: What's the last movie you've seen? Rate it.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
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.<br />
<br />
<b>Q: What was the most annoying song of the summer? Why?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
A: I don't know. I'm not much of a music-holic, so I couldn't tell you.<br />
<br />
<b>Q: Pancakes or Waffles?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
A: Mmm... neither? Well, I guess If I have to pick I pick pancakes but only if my sister makes them.<br />
<br />
<b>Q: Favorite superhero?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
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.<br />
<br />
<b>Q: What color would you use to describe you as a person?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
A: Purple!<br />
<br />
<b>Q: Guilty Pleasure?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
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.<br />
<br />
<b>Q: Who inspires you?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
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.<br />
<br />
<b>Q: If any, what quote or saying do you live by?</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
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<br />
<br />
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:<br />
<ul style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18.1875px; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">
<li class="sidebar-item" style="margin: 5px 0px 0px; padding: 0px;"><span dir="ltr"><a href="http://whatgoesoninmycrazyhead.blogspot.com/" rel="contributor-to nofollow" style="color: #1155cc;">What Goes On In My Crazy Head</a></span></li>
</ul>
<div>
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 18.1875px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div>
Okay, other Maddie! Here are my questions for you:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
1. What is your favorite article of clothing and why?</div>
<div>
2. If you were a billboard, what would you say?</div>
<div>
3. What's something you've never said aloud but always wanted to?</div>
<div>
4. What's your favorite color?</div>
<div>
5. When did you start blogging, and why?</div>
<div>
6. What TV show premier are you most looking forward to?</div>
<div>
7. What's your favorite Bertie Bots Every Flavor Bean?</div>
<div>
8. What's you're favorite book that was written before the twenty-first century?</div>
<div>
9. What's your favorite food?</div>
<div>
10. Do you hate wearing socks?</div>
<div>
11. What's your favorite fandom?</div>
<br />
<br />
<b><br /></b>
Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-90467904182495221382013-09-03T19:12:00.001-05:002013-09-03T19:13:29.900-05:00Skeleton<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I’m utterly attached to you.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>You hold me together.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>A useless pile of skin <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>And muscles I’d be<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>If I didn’t have you.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>And dear heaven please<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Don’t you ever break<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Away<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>From</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>My Body.</i></div>
<i>You are my skeleton.</i><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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? (: </div>
Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-50177969258041012412013-09-02T11:26:00.001-05:002013-09-02T11:26:29.095-05:00An Ode to JK RowlingI 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.<br />
<br />
That's all. I'll try to refrain from mega posting after this.Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-81452910807991196192013-09-02T10:24:00.000-05:002013-09-07T14:49:25.026-05:00I've been stinged by the Stung bugNow, if you've read Stung by Bethany Wiggins, this is not a good thing to have been stung by those genetically modified bees . . .<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
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.<br />
<br />
Point being: Read Stung by Bethany Wiggins.Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-88829453049475795872013-09-01T09:40:00.001-05:002013-09-01T09:40:51.390-05:00Marvela<h3>
So . . . I've decided that my writing websites Figment.com and Wattpad.com 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:</h3>
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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 <em>knew</em> I was lying in my backyard; It <em>knew</em> I wasn’t blissfully somewhere more exciting than my home. I opened my eyes disappointedly. </div>
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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. </div>
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<br /></div>
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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. </div>
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<br /></div>
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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. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: BergamoStdRegular, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">
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. </div>
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<br /></div>
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“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. </div>
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<br /></div>
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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. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: BergamoStdRegular, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">
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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: BergamoStdRegular, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">
“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. </div>
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<br /></div>
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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.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“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.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“Marv? Marvela, are you there? Are you staring out the window thinking about your old swing set? Marvie!”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“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?” </div>
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<br /></div>
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“Right. I think I left something at your house.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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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?”</div>
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<br /></div>
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“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.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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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.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“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.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“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?”</div>
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<br /></div>
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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.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“No, it’s a little cross. You’re sure you haven’t seen it?”</div>
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<div style="font-family: BergamoStdRegular, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">
“No, no. Thank the heavens, I haven’t seen it.”</div>
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“Marvela! I really like that necklace! Please tell me you’ll look for it.”</div>
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“Yes, Stella. I’ll look for it. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll start looking for it as soon as I can.” </div>
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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.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: BergamoStdRegular, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">
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.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7XQu9XLw6BKF1oMmzyyF1mKeYBnG1lxcxu4yCL-CBk9NKLHqdYUOxy9YwKb8hKQBOvm-HCi1YaLwj_1qT-_R7FTb5PTi6eEAX33F06zVBxdt9FkGvO6ad0g9a3AJa1eJw5AwqEGWKY0/s1600/battered+up+necklace+two.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio7XQu9XLw6BKF1oMmzyyF1mKeYBnG1lxcxu4yCL-CBk9NKLHqdYUOxy9YwKb8hKQBOvm-HCi1YaLwj_1qT-_R7FTb5PTi6eEAX33F06zVBxdt9FkGvO6ad0g9a3AJa1eJw5AwqEGWKY0/s1600/battered+up+necklace+two.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The necklace Marv finds.</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-55277234597888679672013-08-31T18:01:00.001-05:002013-08-31T18:10:49.418-05:00Chapter 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. (:<br />
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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: <a href="http://criesofamagpie.blogspot.com/p/my-writing.html">http://criesofamagpie.blogspot.com/p/my-writing.html</a>Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-15947269419170223252013-08-31T11:14:00.000-05:002013-08-31T11:16:15.974-05:00Labor Day WeekendSo 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) <br />
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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?<br />
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<i>*Takes band-aid off*</i><br />
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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 <i>exposed!</i><br />
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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?<br />
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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.<br />
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WHY DO MY NON-INTERNET REAL FRIENDS THAT I HANG OUT WITH LIVE SO FAR AWAY FROM ME?<br />
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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.<br />
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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... <i>qweretyuiop[]\asdfghjkl;'zxcvbnm,./ </i>Huh. Weird. It wasn't any of those. I must be imagining things.)<br />
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<i>"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 . . ."</i><br />
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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!<br />
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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.Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-85459341350167492552013-08-29T18:04:00.001-05:002013-08-29T18:04:59.554-05:00Escaping Normal: NoiseSo... I was just browsing around and I found this blog! Just reading this was fantastic. I'll have to follow it!<br />
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<a href="http://escapingnormal.blogspot.com/2013/08/noise.html?spref=bl">Escaping Normal: Noise</a>: 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...Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-7588966480387246922013-08-25T17:33:00.002-05:002013-08-25T17:33:51.613-05:00Imaginary Fans are the Best KindWriters 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: <a href="http://criesofamagpie.blogspot.com/p/my-writing.html">http://criesofamagpie.blogspot.com/p/my-writing.html</a><br />
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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.Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6972031476769121069.post-26422081119297153892013-08-24T13:21:00.003-05:002013-08-24T13:21:58.300-05:00Nothings There and No One's ReadingI 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 <i>nowhere.</i> 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.<br />
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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.<br />
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I need some inspiration. ):Magpie Writerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05215212239766001405noreply@blogger.com0