Just for laughs.

I know I haven't posted anything lately, mainly because I've been focusing on getting the rest of my novel into the computer, but now I've decided it's time I posted something. Disclaimer: this little piece is not meant to be serious. I was with two of my friends (Kylie and Gracie) and we started joking around and one thing led to another and the idea of "The Adventures of the Hobbit, the Hobo, and the Hermit" was born. I've got to get some normal friends. But that would be no fun. I'm not done with it yet, but here's a little taste of the story in all of its laugh out loud humor.

One day while the hobbit was looking for her pet squirrel Juju (who liked to run off and play with all the other pet squirrels who ran away from their owners) she came across the hermit dangling upside down from a tree, one foot caught in a snare.
"I might be wrong," said the hobbit. "But aren't you supposed to be the other way around?"
"No duh Sherlock," snapped the hermit, curling like a worm on a fishing hook to reach her entangled foot, but without success. "You think I didn't know that from all the blood rushing to my head?"
"Is that a troll trap?"
"No."
"A goblin trap?"
"No."
"A gremlin trap?"
"Nope."
"It must be an ogre trap."
"Nope."
"Then who's is it?"
The hermit looked embarrassed. "Mine."
The hobbit cocked a eyebrow. "You got caught in your own trap?" The hermit swung back and forth, groaning loudly when she slammed into the tree from which she dangled. "Do you want some help?"
"No, I can get down myself. I just need to reach my kni-- hey, get away from that you dumb squirrel! No, wait, don't chew through that, no--ahh!"
The rope snapped and the hermit came crashing down. A squirrel darted down the tree truck and sat in front of the hobbit.
"Juju!" she squealed.

Fighting Chance(?)

I was thinking the other day and started to wonder if my novel (Castaway Inn) would attract readers. I want you guys to tell me what you think and if I have a fighting chance or not. Here's the plot:

Sophia only knew the life of a servant. She had no family, no home (aside from the small, cramped, drafty room in her master's house that she lived in) and no friends (aside from Evelyn, who leaves at night, leaving Sophia by herself). On top of all that, there's one person who wants nothing more than to make sure her life is horrible: Sophia's black hearted mistress-the countess. In a desperate attempt at freedom, she runs into the woods one stormy night, leaving only a note at Evelyn's door. While on her flee in the middle of the night, she meets Philippe, a French businessman turned innkeeper with a heart that's been bruised, and Del, a lass with spunk, spirit, and a mysterious limb. Sophia finally felt like she had people she could call her friends, maybe even her family, but the bonds of their friendship is tested when Sophia's pursuit of freedom turns into a deadly game of hide and seek.

The Smell of Rain

Look what I found in the back of my computer! I write a lot of poetry along with my other projects and this one is one of my favorites. I got into my school's literary magazine with this one last year, which was so cool to be able to do that as a sophomore. I've always loved rain and this peticular poem, along with a few others to be posted later, holds a special place in my heart. Enjoy.

Dark clouds envelope once starless skies
The hiss of the storm in the wind as it flies

Lightning shatters the ink splattered night
And midnight carries chill with its flight

Endless rain tumbles to a final resting place
Thunder echoes rhythmically through an almost endless space

Storm clouds billow like great black sails
The wind whispers gently like the brush of bluebird tails

White strokes of lightning paint stripes in the dark
And midnight flies on the wings of a meadowlark

But the rain, the rain, that sweet silver thread
Tearful pearls streaking down my head

The smell of rain as it hits the ground
The rumble of thunder, oh sweet the sound

The way the lightning seems to dance
The way the twisting wind enchants

But the smell of rain is what I wait for
Why I spend those days by my front door

The reason I sit by that open window pane
Just to catch the smell of rain

The First Step

They say that a journey of thousand miles begins with a single step. Writing the manuscript for my novel has really seemed like that journey. Surprising, my "single step" that started this journey of ink wasn't the first words of the book, it was a paragraph that came in chapter six. This paragraph right here:

The first thing Sophia noticed about Del was not her flaming red hair that flowed to her chin from under the rim of a weathered blue bandana. It was not her dusty brown eyes that gave her the look of someone deep in thought. It was not her ensemble of a baggy brown shirt and knee length cotton pants that looked like it belonged on a sailor on a merchant ship and not on an innkeeper’s errand girl. It was not that she was bare foot. Oh no, the first thing Sophia noticed about Del was that she walked with a limp.

This paragraph has remained in the rough draft the entire time I've been writing and I still love it.

The Passing of the Scepter

Since Mary will not be contributing here as much, or not at all, the scepter has been passed to me. I shall try and continue with the same things Mary did, I'll post review of my favorite books and I'll post about my writing as much as possible. Which reminds me, I am proud to announce the completion of my manuscript and I am moving into the re-writing and editing stage. Writing the book the first time was the easy part. I'll be posting about my experiances and some tid bits of my novel. However, something new I will be trying is that I will be taking requests on what you would like to see on the blog. Help me keep this going. Happy Writing!