From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia:
"The word Halloween is first attested in the 16th century and represents a Scottish variant of the fuller All-Hallows-Even ("evening"), that is, the night before All Hallows Day.[5] Although the phrase All Hallows is found in Old English (ealra hālgena mæssedæg, mass-day of all saints), All-Hallows-Even is itself not attested until 1556."
Yeah.
So, it turns out that Halloween is this pretty big deal for all us who work in the costume shop. Go figure, right? They had this costume party on Friday, after the improv show, which was awesome, and then last night we watched silly Halloween kinds of movies while people carved pumpkins. It was a good weekend.
While I was back home over break I went looking for costumes and actually managed to find one *gasp!*. It was this black lace-over-satin "mermaid"-style evening gown that I found for fifteen dollars at a clearance sale. I had to take it in, but once I did it worked really well.
And here are pictures of me in the dress as a zombie.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Introduction to a Dream
Hey all! So for my Intro to Theatre class I had to write a script. And here it is! For your viewing (well, reading) pleasure:
...Yeah. If this ever actually gets performed by anyone out there, I'd be very grateful if you could take a video and put a link to it in the comments, just because I'd enjoy getting to see what it would actually look like.
Introduction to a Dream
A short script
by Sarah Hope Robinson
(The scene suggests an airport waiting area. It is a stormy winter and flights across all of Canada are delayed. There are a handful of people scattered about; a few are chatting quietly, most are either staring at some kind of screen or trying to sleep. MADELINE FLYNNAGAN is among the latter. She is a youngish woman with red-brown hair, librarian by trade, neurotic by practice if not by nature. She is lying at one end of a long red-cushioned bench, center stage, covered over by a warm trench coat or some style of fashionable knee-length jacket. It is midnight. Enter JAMES NORTH from left. He is in his mid-forties, passably attractive, and travel-stained; he is returning home from yet another international foray. James wears jeans, worn hiking boots, a blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He has been tanned by a more southern sun and wears glasses. He checks his ticket then sits at the other end of the long bench.)
JAMES: (to himself) There’s something about an airport, any airport, that gets to me.(gradually he stops talking to himself; he addresses the audience, becoming more animated as he goes on.) Maybe it has to do with this all-encompassing hush that descends around midnight and doesn’t depart again until four or five the next morning. It might be about that everyday miracle which lets a thousand tons of steel and luggage soar across a star-flecked sky or the absolute peace that grips me during take-offs and landings, the most dangerous part of any flight, and the most beautiful. (During James’ monologue stage lights have dimmed until all is black save for the bench and the two of them in a single brilliant spotlight.)
I hate having to leave an airport, but I cope better if I know I’m stepping out into someplace I’ve never been before. The start of a journey is all about the anticipation, wondering what comes next(Madeline stirs, begins to awaken); the ending, like all endings, is full of regret and-
(As Madeline sits up James sees that she is awake and cuts himself off abruptly. As she stands and stretches the jacket falls to the ground; beneath it she is barefoot and wearing a sleeveless, bias-cut, ankle-length dress of sea gray.)
MADELINE: Well how odd.
JAMES: Excuse me?
MADELINE: I don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before. It’s almost always the same thing, played over and over again, but you’re new. Have we ever met? I mean actually met?
JAMES: (clears throat) No. I’m James North. (He extends a hand which she doesn’t shake)
MADELINE: Madeline Flynnagan, as you probably already know.
(She starts walking. As soon as Madeline ‘breaks’ the circle of spotlight, the stage should be fully illuminated and the spotlight should be off, with no transition. Light mimics early morning, not rosy but forgiving. The stage is cleared of all furnishings but the bench. Upstage is a bulky white structure which incorporates different levels upon which the actors can stand and move about. It should have a few ladders and be vaguely reminiscent of Escher.)
JAMES: Why should I know? Are you famous?
MADELINE: No, I’m a librarian.
Are you?
JAMES: Not yet. I have a few fans but I’m nowhere close to famous. I’m a novelist, you know. (At this point James seems to notice the oddity of his surroundings.) Ms. Flynnagan, this may sound like a stupid question, but what the HELL is going on?
MADELINE: Hmm… I think I’m dreaming.
JAMES: That’s all very well for you, but what am I doing here?
MADELINE: Aren’t dreams where figments of the imagination usually reside? I’m pretty sure I learned something about that in high school…
JAMES: I am not a figment! I have a life, a job. Which I was in the process of getting back to before- before whatever happened, before I ended up here.
MADELINE: Really? (Considers) I suppose I’ll go along with that for now. Or you could vanish. Or turn to custard or spice cake or mashed potatoes-
JAMES: Stop. You’re making me hungry.
MADELINE: Well then Mister North, what would you like to talk about? This dream doesn’t seem to be going anywhere fast, so we might as well talk, right?
JAMES: A-
MADELINE: Or, but, I mean, if you don’t want to…
JAMES: I don’t know what to say.
MADELINE: (finds a protrusion of the structure and swings on it, dangling by her hands before pulling herself back up) Oh, anything! Tell me about your childhood, or your books. Do you write for a living? Can you actually make that work?
JAMES: Well, it’s not much of a living; I do some freelancing on the side to help cover the bills. Book reviews for newspapers and websites, mostly. How’s li- librarianing? Is that a word?
MADELINE: It’s librarianship, actually.
JAMES: (a short pause while James waits for her to go on) And how is that?
MADELINE: Disappointing. To my mother at least. I love it, but she just doesn’t seem to care. Always Wesley this and Wesley that. I always thought mothers identified more with daughters. Rather than less.
JAMES: Who’s Wesley?
(Enter Wesley Flynnagan, stage right. He wears a sharp business suit and carries a black leather briefcase. He stops and sits on the bench, as if waiting for a train. Meanwhile, Madeline and James have reached the highest platform.)
MADELINE: (sits, her legs dangling off the edge, and points to Wesley) That’s ‘Wes the Perfectly Perfect’. Look at that suit! He’s a big fancy banker. Lives at the top of a hill in a big fancy house with his pretty immaculate wife and their three beautiful children. But what really gets me is that I can’t even resent him properly.
He’s my brother.
JAMES: I understood that part actually, that he’s your brother.
MADELINE: Oh.
(Wesley stands and waves to Madeline, who returns the gesture. He then checks his watch, curses softly under his breath, and hurriedly exits stage left.)
MADELINE: (standing and turning back to James) Do you have a brother?
JAMES: No.
MADELINE: Sister?
JAMES: No.
MADELINE: Aunt?
JAMES: No, actually. I used to have one, but she died when I was seven. I never knew her.
MADELINE: Oh. Your mom’s sister or your dad’s?
JAMES: My mother’s.
MADELINE: Well, tell me about her.
JAMES: My aunt? Like I said, I never knew her.
MADELINE: No, your mom.
JAMES: Oh. Well, I know she wants the best for me, and she loves me, but sometimes…
MADELINE: (after a pause) Go on.
JAMES: Sometimes I think all she wants, all she really wants, is for me to be exactly like my father. Work a steady job, get married, have a kid. But Dad hated his job, utterly despised it; he wanted to be a writer. He always told me to go for it. So here I am. Despite my mother.
MADELINE: If your dad hated his job, why did he keep at it?
JAMES: To support me, put me through college, build up a cushion to retire on, that sort of thing.
MADELINE: But you’re not worried about cushions. (Madeline retrieves her coat from the floor and they sit down together on the red-cushioned bench. Lights fade out as spotlight fades in.)
JAMES: No, I am. But…
MADELINE: But you’re doing what you love to do so you’ll keep at it even in the face of diversity.
JAMES: (smiles) Something like that.
MADELINE: Are you sure you’re not a figment?
JAMES: (emphatically) Yes.
MADELINE: It’s just that we have so much in common. (Glances about) I think I’m waking up now. (Lies down and covers herself over with coat) Maybe I’ll see you out there, in the real world.
JAMES: Good night then. Pleasant dreams. (In the instant before the light goes off James realizes what he has just said, and reacts.)
CURTAIN
...Yeah. If this ever actually gets performed by anyone out there, I'd be very grateful if you could take a video and put a link to it in the comments, just because I'd enjoy getting to see what it would actually look like.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Wait, But Is It Really Porn If It's Just Food...?
Ok, so NOW I've seen all but two or three of Cillian Murphy's full length movies. I have to say that my opinion of him hasn't changed in the least. Still amazing. If you're interested, you can watch my Cillian Murphy playlist from my YouTube channel.
Not much else to tell, really. I went to the Goodwill store today and got myself a skillet, cupcake pan, whisk, cheese-grater and some other things I decided I could no longer live without, including a pyrex liquid cup measure, which I intend to put to very good use in the years ahead. I made red velvet cake this weekend, as well as goat-cheese and green onion scones, which were a big success. Found a site called FoodPorn while browsing the 'nets and it made me very hungry. Also, FoodPornDaily, which seems more presentation oriented than do-it-yourself. But I mean, if you're looking at food porn, better that it's really pretty, yeah?
Not much else to tell, really. I went to the Goodwill store today and got myself a skillet, cupcake pan, whisk, cheese-grater and some other things I decided I could no longer live without, including a pyrex liquid cup measure, which I intend to put to very good use in the years ahead. I made red velvet cake this weekend, as well as goat-cheese and green onion scones, which were a big success. Found a site called FoodPorn while browsing the 'nets and it made me very hungry. Also, FoodPornDaily, which seems more presentation oriented than do-it-yourself. But I mean, if you're looking at food porn, better that it's really pretty, yeah?
Friday, September 16, 2011
Red Eye
So recently I started randomly talking to a guy about movies, and I happened to mention Sunshine (an awesome movie by the way; watch it illegally online and then go buy it, if you haven't already). I kept thinking about Sunshine over the next few days, remembered how much I had loved its main character, Cappa, and that the actor who played him was Cillian Murphy. And then I idly wondered what else he might have been in.
The effect of all this was that I spent the last three days watching every full-length movie Cillian Murphy has ever been in (with the exceptions of Breakfast on Pluto, which I haven't yet been able to find, and Dark Knight and Tron, in both of which he only cameoed. I did watch clips of the cameos on YouTube, though). I ama little bit very obsessed, but I expect I shall get mostly over it in a while.
So about Cillian Murphy. He's Irish [accent included, except if he's playing someone who isn't Irish, which he does beautifully] and living in London with his wife and two sons. He's managed to keep a low profile despite being involved in some really big, and/or award winning films. Mr. Murphy began performing in a rock band, then moved to theatre, which in turn led to his career in motion pictures. He still acts on stage, though, because he loves it
...
...
&*^%$!
I just went on the CillianSite (which I have never been to before, because honestly drooling fangirls are not my thing... Even though I am one) and guess what! I haven't even watched half of his feature-length movies. Just the more famous ones and the ones they have on Netflix.
I repeat: &*^%$!
nvmnotimetblogMUSTWATCHCILLIANMURPHYyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
'Cause he's awesome.
Here, have a picture.
The effect of all this was that I spent the last three days watching every full-length movie Cillian Murphy has ever been in (with the exceptions of Breakfast on Pluto, which I haven't yet been able to find, and Dark Knight and Tron, in both of which he only cameoed. I did watch clips of the cameos on YouTube, though). I am
So about Cillian Murphy. He's Irish [accent included, except if he's playing someone who isn't Irish, which he does beautifully] and living in London with his wife and two sons. He's managed to keep a low profile despite being involved in some really big, and/or award winning films. Mr. Murphy began performing in a rock band, then moved to theatre, which in turn led to his career in motion pictures. He still acts on stage, though, because he loves it
...
...
&*^%$!
I just went on the CillianSite (which I have never been to before, because honestly drooling fangirls are not my thing... Even though I am one) and guess what! I haven't even watched half of his feature-length movies. Just the more famous ones and the ones they have on Netflix.
I repeat: &*^%$!
nvmnotimetblogMUSTWATCHCILLIANMURPHYyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!
'Cause he's awesome.
Here, have a picture.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Possibly the Most Interesting and Well-written Seventy-One Chapters I've Ever Read
Heyo. I've been super busy. Also I've been sick-ish since the 31st of August, which really hasn't helped much, and hasn't gotten any better, and I'm wondering if it's about stress after all. My classes are great, and all a lot of fun. Today was my first actual day of work (as in, my first day of actually working on stuff that will be used in shows) and it was really tiring, partly because I'm sick, but also because, unless there is someone *forcing* me to take breaks, I will work until I am physically unable to continue. It's just the way I am.
But enough about me! Let me tell you about something far more interesting, namely my obsession of the last two weeks. It is called Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality. And before you ask, yes, it is a fanfiction, and no, it is actually much, much better than you could possibly expect. Check it out I COMMAND YOU!
Yeah...
But enough about me! Let me tell you about something far more interesting, namely my obsession of the last two weeks. It is called Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality. And before you ask, yes, it is a fanfiction, and no, it is actually much, much better than you could possibly expect. Check it out I COMMAND YOU!
Yeah...
Sunday, August 28, 2011
College, sort of
So, I spent my first night in the dorm night before last. It was terrible. The bed was hard and, since I'm at the top of my building, I was way too hot. On top of that, I hadn't been sleeping well for like a week.
But last night was good! I didn't go to the soccer game, just took two sleeping pills and curled up with a book. I ended up not reading much, but I did manage to sleep through the night! So yeah, here I am at college. My address is:
My Name
YouknownevermindIdon'tthinkIwanttheinternetknowingwhereIlive.
Oregon XXXXX
If you want my address, call me. I would love to get mail!
I'm making new friends and stuff. So things are going well, except for the sleep.
But last night was good! I didn't go to the soccer game, just took two sleeping pills and curled up with a book. I ended up not reading much, but I did manage to sleep through the night! So yeah, here I am at college. My address is:
My Name
YouknownevermindIdon'tthinkIwanttheinternetknowingwhereIlive.
Oregon XXXXX
If you want my address, call me. I would love to get mail!
I'm making new friends and stuff. So things are going well, except for the sleep.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Potlatch, Idaho (Again)
A few days ago my brother and I took the bus up to Potlatch for a last short visit with my dad before we go off to college. I was a lot less nervous riding the bus this time (probably because I wasn't alone), and was able to sleep a lot, which made the trip seem faster. My dad's girlfriend's nephew and his friend were here when we arrived, so for the past few days the six of us have been... coexisting. My brother and I have been the only ones actually sleeping in the house, though there are at least four bedrooms. Sarah flees the vicinity entirely and holes up in her equine dentistry trailer (did I mention she's an equine dentist? she's also a farrier and a musician) and Dad and the other two have been camping out on the new deck. It's nice because there aren't too many people tromping around.
I randomly decided to try to build a doll house and I've made a start, but it's not going as well as I'd like.
I'm having some problems with the story I'm writing and I really need some help...
Adelle of Peristeronic has flown off to the east coast for college and, because she's kind of awkward with phone calls, we've both gotten on Skype, so hopefully we'll be able to keep in touch.
Sorry about that depressing birthday post... I actually had a really great birthday! For the first time! Yay! Two of my best friends and I dressed up and had a tea party picnic thing by this pretty little creek. It was awesome, and is already one of my most treasured memories. Which is embarrassing to say, but true. It really made me happy, which is a big deal. For me.
Thanks for bothering to read this.
I randomly decided to try to build a doll house and I've made a start, but it's not going as well as I'd like.
I'm having some problems with the story I'm writing and I really need some help...
Adelle of Peristeronic has flown off to the east coast for college and, because she's kind of awkward with phone calls, we've both gotten on Skype, so hopefully we'll be able to keep in touch.
Sorry about that depressing birthday post... I actually had a really great birthday! For the first time! Yay! Two of my best friends and I dressed up and had a tea party picnic thing by this pretty little creek. It was awesome, and is already one of my most treasured memories. Which is embarrassing to say, but true. It really made me happy, which is a big deal. For me.
Thanks for bothering to read this.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Birthdays are Depressing
On the seventh I will be turning eighteen. I was excited, thinking that this year I would finally be able to have a wonderful birthday, but I guess that just isn't for me. I can't be really happy while I'm worrying about my mom, and I'll sit there feeling terrible about every gift I get, because they need that money a lot more than I do. Maybe instead of getting gifts on my birthday, I could give things away. I would feel much more comfortable with that.
See, a few hours ago I learned that my mom got laid off work. Since she's been with the company for six years, they are giving her six weeks more of work and one week of vacation. She's going to be using her vacation time to take me to college. My mom has never been laid off before in her life.
So this year, both my dad and my mom will have changed jobs. Assuming she'll be able to get another.
I'm scared.
See, a few hours ago I learned that my mom got laid off work. Since she's been with the company for six years, they are giving her six weeks more of work and one week of vacation. She's going to be using her vacation time to take me to college. My mom has never been laid off before in her life.
So this year, both my dad and my mom will have changed jobs. Assuming she'll be able to get another.
I'm scared.
Friday, July 29, 2011
Entrepreneurship and Chainmail Gauntlets
I recently made some blank books with collage covers. Each book has one hundred pages and the cover pictures come mainly from National Geographic magazines. I'm thinking I might be able to sell some of them. What do you think? Interested? ^_^
Last week or so my brother (home from college over the summer) found some steel wire in the garage and used it to extend the range of our Xbox360's tiny, bunny-ear internet receiver thingies. (It looks extremely silly but it gets the job done, and now we can watch Netflix in the basement!) So we sat down together to watch some silly anime and he suddenly realized that the wire was still down there. He has made chainmail in the past and it doesn't take much to get me interested in making something, so all week we watched anime and worked on chainmail gauntlets together. I finished mine two days ago.
The animes we watched were Witchblade (completely awesome story with lots of action, intrigue, an awesome reporter guy, and a boss with very serious eyebrows. The main character is a young amnesiac woman just trying to make a life for her daughter in the wake of an apocalyptic earthquake), Birdy (alien law-enforcement chick forced by an accident to share her body with a human boy. It was surprisingly modest for an anime), Dead Leaves (forty-five minutes of visually stunning but crazy, mind-blowing, weird), and AIRgear (reminiscent of Jet Set Radio Future [JSRF], one of the best games ever).
Oh yeah, and I beat Munch's Oddesy, another of those best games ever. It definitely ranks in my top five.
Last week or so my brother (home from college over the summer) found some steel wire in the garage and used it to extend the range of our Xbox360's tiny, bunny-ear internet receiver thingies. (It looks extremely silly but it gets the job done, and now we can watch Netflix in the basement!) So we sat down together to watch some silly anime and he suddenly realized that the wire was still down there. He has made chainmail in the past and it doesn't take much to get me interested in making something, so all week we watched anime and worked on chainmail gauntlets together. I finished mine two days ago.
The animes we watched were Witchblade (completely awesome story with lots of action, intrigue, an awesome reporter guy, and a boss with very serious eyebrows. The main character is a young amnesiac woman just trying to make a life for her daughter in the wake of an apocalyptic earthquake), Birdy (alien law-enforcement chick forced by an accident to share her body with a human boy. It was surprisingly modest for an anime), Dead Leaves (forty-five minutes of visually stunning but crazy, mind-blowing, weird), and AIRgear (reminiscent of Jet Set Radio Future [JSRF], one of the best games ever).
Oh yeah, and I beat Munch's Oddesy, another of those best games ever. It definitely ranks in my top five.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
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Potlatch, Idaho (Day II)
I've been really tired for quite a while but I'm happy to announce that I seem to have gotten over that. Yesterday I got up at about one in the afternoon. Today I got up at eight thirty, and I don't even feel drowsy! Then again, the coffee might have something to do with that.
On the drive home the day before yesterday we passed a place on the highway along the Salmon river where a lot of people were fishing. There was a sign up that said 'fresh fish for sale' or something along those lines, so we decided to stop. It turns out that there's a salmon hatchery on the Salmon river (go figure, right?) and since it's spawning season people can catch and sell them. We bought a fish that was about as long as my arm (!) and threw it in the cooler with some ice for the rest of the trip. It was very fresh; in fact, when it was in the guy's cooler he poked it and it started twitching. Kinda freaked me out.
So anyway, when we got home I volunteered to make dinner, which ended up involving gutting and skinning a heavy, slippery fish as long as my arm. The fish didn't fit in the kitchen sink. The fiish was full of half-clotted blood. Our knives weren't nearly sharp enough to cut through even the meat cleanly, so I ended up having to hack and saw at the blasted thing. First I cut open its belly and inside were two huge sacks of orange salmon roe (and, you know, a heart and liver and kidneys and stuff). From this I deduced (using my amazing Holmesian skills) that the monster was, in point of fact, female. Then, with difficulty, I sawed the head off, cut the body in half and made fillets. And then I cooked them on a charcoal grill (which is the best kind). All in all the job was messy, difficult, and tiring, but it taught me at least one valuable lesson; never offer to gut and prepare any fish bigger than a small trout. Seriously.
My dad got to deal with the other half of the fish and he decided to save and cook the roe too. He cut the fish into steaks which he then froze, and he cooked the roe for dinner last night. Based on his and Sarah's reviews, I opted for a salad instead; "It only kind of makes me want to throw up." Yeah, no. Now he's threatening to put them in scrambled eggs for dinner tonight. I shall try to dissuade him.
Sarah left this morning to go to some pack goat get-together thing. There are supposed to be at least forty goats attending, plus owners. She's going to be the on-site Vet. I admit, I'm sad that she's gone. She won't be back until Sunday so I won't get to see her as much, but I'm planning to extend my visit by a few days so that I will at least get to see her more.
My projects for the next few days include making curtains for all the windows upstairs, blogging every day I'm here, baking bread (from scratch, using my grandmother's recipe), taking pictures to put on here, writing my current story, mowing the yard (for money! ;), and spending time with my kitties. I also hope to not get any ticks while I'm here. And maybe, just maybe, I'll find the ring I lost half a year ago. Wish me luck!
On the drive home the day before yesterday we passed a place on the highway along the Salmon river where a lot of people were fishing. There was a sign up that said 'fresh fish for sale' or something along those lines, so we decided to stop. It turns out that there's a salmon hatchery on the Salmon river (go figure, right?) and since it's spawning season people can catch and sell them. We bought a fish that was about as long as my arm (!) and threw it in the cooler with some ice for the rest of the trip. It was very fresh; in fact, when it was in the guy's cooler he poked it and it started twitching. Kinda freaked me out.
So anyway, when we got home I volunteered to make dinner, which ended up involving gutting and skinning a heavy, slippery fish as long as my arm. The fish didn't fit in the kitchen sink. The fiish was full of half-clotted blood. Our knives weren't nearly sharp enough to cut through even the meat cleanly, so I ended up having to hack and saw at the blasted thing. First I cut open its belly and inside were two huge sacks of orange salmon roe (and, you know, a heart and liver and kidneys and stuff). From this I deduced (using my amazing Holmesian skills) that the monster was, in point of fact, female. Then, with difficulty, I sawed the head off, cut the body in half and made fillets. And then I cooked them on a charcoal grill (which is the best kind). All in all the job was messy, difficult, and tiring, but it taught me at least one valuable lesson; never offer to gut and prepare any fish bigger than a small trout. Seriously.
My dad got to deal with the other half of the fish and he decided to save and cook the roe too. He cut the fish into steaks which he then froze, and he cooked the roe for dinner last night. Based on his and Sarah's reviews, I opted for a salad instead; "It only kind of makes me want to throw up." Yeah, no. Now he's threatening to put them in scrambled eggs for dinner tonight. I shall try to dissuade him.
Sarah left this morning to go to some pack goat get-together thing. There are supposed to be at least forty goats attending, plus owners. She's going to be the on-site Vet. I admit, I'm sad that she's gone. She won't be back until Sunday so I won't get to see her as much, but I'm planning to extend my visit by a few days so that I will at least get to see her more.
My projects for the next few days include making curtains for all the windows upstairs, blogging every day I'm here, baking bread (from scratch, using my grandmother's recipe), taking pictures to put on here, writing my current story, mowing the yard (for money! ;), and spending time with my kitties. I also hope to not get any ticks while I'm here. And maybe, just maybe, I'll find the ring I lost half a year ago. Wish me luck!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Potlatch, Idaho (Day I)
I'm in Potlatch, Idaho. Looking behind me I can see a beautiful view of the Paloose, with low hills and horses and fields of hay. It would usually be mostly wheat, but I don't know how much of that got planted this year, what with the weather and everything. I feel obligated to let you know that my cats are fat and happy and as irascible as ever. We are keeping them locked upstairs because of Pottus Contentus (which is 'Happy Feet' in Latin). Pottus is my Dad's girlfriend's cat, a grey manx tabby, who about fifteen minutes ago brought me a chipmunk she had killed and who is very unhappy about having to share her house with two uncouth boys from the city.
Dad has put four birdhouses up along the railing of the new porch and a family of swallows has moved into one. It's nice to watch the parents zooming in and out in the evenings, collecting insects for the kids. The father likes to sit on the roof sometimes, surveying his domain and watching for any signs of danger. There are quite a few chipmunks in the woodpile. I sat in a chair on the porch and watched them run around for about an hour today, enjoying the shade and the birdsong, the scent of the pine trees. One of them is sounding an alarm right now.
I'm reading The Summer Tree by Guy Gavriel Kay. I have read others of his books before and am finding interesting congruences and remembering references in his other books to this one.
Dad has put four birdhouses up along the railing of the new porch and a family of swallows has moved into one. It's nice to watch the parents zooming in and out in the evenings, collecting insects for the kids. The father likes to sit on the roof sometimes, surveying his domain and watching for any signs of danger. There are quite a few chipmunks in the woodpile. I sat in a chair on the porch and watched them run around for about an hour today, enjoying the shade and the birdsong, the scent of the pine trees. One of them is sounding an alarm right now.
I'm reading The Summer Tree by Guy Gavriel Kay. I have read others of his books before and am finding interesting congruences and remembering references in his other books to this one.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Summer Sewing
I have been sewing a lot this summer. Remember way-back-when, I told you about a dress I was just starting to make? Well, that's what I've been working on, and I am ecstatic to be able to tell you it's over halfway done!
...
It just doesn't read as impressively as I think it should.
Anyway, I've been writing some more, too, so I'll be posting that sometime soon, along with pictures of my dress!
...
It just doesn't read as impressively as I think it should.
Anyway, I've been writing some more, too, so I'll be posting that sometime soon, along with pictures of my dress!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Unemployed...
I've been hoping to get a job at this frozen yogurt place. It's pretty close to my house and I love their ice- ...frozen yogurt. The manager said they would be needing some extra help when the weather improved. That was two weeks ago. The weather hasn't improved.
So, rather than work, I've been playing Golden Sun; Dark Dawn. It's pretty good, so far. It has times during dialogue where you can choose which emotion your character expresses, and other characters' responses will be different depending on your emote. I just chose :) and the guy I'm talking to said "Your calm demeanor shames me. I spoke out of turn. I apologize." Apparently, :) = calm. Also wonderful was this:
Matthew: !!
Tyrell: You said it, Matthew!
...
(See, it's funny 'cause Matthew never talks.)
So, rather than work, I've been playing Golden Sun; Dark Dawn. It's pretty good, so far. It has times during dialogue where you can choose which emotion your character expresses, and other characters' responses will be different depending on your emote. I just chose :) and the guy I'm talking to said "Your calm demeanor shames me. I spoke out of turn. I apologize." Apparently, :) = calm. Also wonderful was this:
Matthew: !!
Tyrell: You said it, Matthew!
...
(See, it's funny 'cause Matthew never talks.)
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Annie-Maaaaaaaaaaaaaayyy!!!! (cont'd)
So, to follow up;
Yeah, it was pretty great. Mika, of Meeka's Musings (which she has NEVER DONE ANYTHING WITH! ...hacks me off... kinda), had a room at the hotel and put fake dreadlocks into her hair, which I helped with, and they look FANTASTIC! and she wore a bikini and played parapara. I'm not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand, Mika used to be so shy in public that she wouldn't wear anything shorter than long pants, so I'm glad she's getting over that, but then again... o_o;
I mean, I've known her since second grade, so...
Know what? Never mind.
(Abrupt change of subject) So I dragged my brother along to the con yesterday. It was his first. He looked sort of lost the entire time and, whenever I asked him what he thought, kept saying, "I just don't know how I feel about this." I bought him a Kamina key-chain, though, so he has no reason to complain, and at least I managed to get him out of the house for a while.
Kamina is a character from Gurren Lagann, the most man-tastic anime EVER. You should check it out!
You know what? I'm just putting it on here. Watch it and fall in love with it.
Yeah, it was pretty great. Mika, of Meeka's Musings (which she has NEVER DONE ANYTHING WITH! ...hacks me off... kinda), had a room at the hotel and put fake dreadlocks into her hair, which I helped with, and they look FANTASTIC! and she wore a bikini and played parapara. I'm not sure how I feel about that. On the one hand, Mika used to be so shy in public that she wouldn't wear anything shorter than long pants, so I'm glad she's getting over that, but then again... o_o;
I mean, I've known her since second grade, so...
Know what? Never mind.
(Abrupt change of subject) So I dragged my brother along to the con yesterday. It was his first. He looked sort of lost the entire time and, whenever I asked him what he thought, kept saying, "I just don't know how I feel about this." I bought him a Kamina key-chain, though, so he has no reason to complain, and at least I managed to get him out of the house for a while.
Kamina is a character from Gurren Lagann, the most man-tastic anime EVER. You should check it out!
You know what? I'm just putting it on here. Watch it and fall in love with it.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Annie-Maaaaaaaaaaaaaayyy!!!!
Yeah, I went to an anime convention this weekend, and it was EPIC! Well... I guess it was pretty standard for an anime convention, and there were some total CREEPERS there, but I liked it anyway. My X was there, which was a little awkward. Everyone was nice, though, and I got to talk with a woman who crochets squids. Seriously.
I bought one. It's adorable. She has an online store called Happy Squid Muffin, which doesn't seem to be selling anything at the moment, but I, at least, will be checking back in later. Anyway...
I'm tired from the 'Con, but I'll edit this tomorrow and tell you more about it. Adelle went there, too, so I'm sure she has lots of fun stories to share, and if we harass her enough she might even do it!
G'night.
I bought one. It's adorable. She has an online store called Happy Squid Muffin, which doesn't seem to be selling anything at the moment, but I, at least, will be checking back in later. Anyway...
I'm tired from the 'Con, but I'll edit this tomorrow and tell you more about it. Adelle went there, too, so I'm sure she has lots of fun stories to share, and if we harass her enough she might even do it!
G'night.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
A Monologue for Will
Depression, or whatever this is is not a lot of fun. As if it would be. I’m not used to crying like this. I'm not used to crying at all. I thought about saying that to someone, anyone, but it's like my mouth has been glued shut; all that I have left now are the tears and the tight ache in the middle of my ribcage where something bright used to live. The sobbing comes from there, welling up through the rawness of my throat to bleed silently into my pillow. Yeah, I thought about writing poetry. Too goddamn cliche. Where would I write it anyway? How could I show it to anyone? I don’t know if I could bear it if nobody even saw. Because it might mean that nobody cares enough to check, and I couldn’t handle that.
Now I can’t stop thinking about it. How Charlie is probably the best kid I have ever known, and even though he did a lot of things that I strongly object to I just want to hug him and tell him that everything will get better everything will be better, the worst has come and gone, but I don’t know if that’s true. And I’m worried about him. And about me. And I should probably go to sleep now and stop thinking but I still have homework and I feel anxious and I just can’t bring myself to lie down. because for some reason it is very important that I do. I feel stupid and needy and I really want to find that picture I drew because it might help. But only people really help, . There’s a pool of snot on the carpet and I just don’t care enough to do anything about it. It makes a nasty sound. I don’t want to worry Violet with this and I’m not sure Blue would understand. I’ve been crying ever since a bit before I climbed back in through the window. It was fast at first, fast tears, and now it is a sort of eternal drip and I really don’t even want to go to school tomorrow because I know it will be so hard. I honestly don’t think I would make it through the day, and suddenly I'm not sure I even want to try.
I wish Violet would actually talk to me, I wish Blue wouldn’t interrupt me. I really want to call them, apologize over and over again, but it's nearly two o’clock in the morning and I don’t want to be a nuisance. I hate phones. And speed dial. And this distance that's grown up between us. And my back hurts and the string of snot running from my nose has latched on to my hand and I don’t even care enough to wipe it off and my mouth has been hanging open and I hate that and I feel small and fragile and cracked and utterly, completely alone. I might be seriously contemplating suicide, but I think I still have a lot more to give the world before I can let myself die. Unfortunately that means more suffering on my part. Death seems like such an easy release.
I sometimes wish that what I had been told about myself as a child hadn’t been quite so contradictory. On the one hand you’re smart and nice and generous and whatever, on the other you can’t get anything done you’re lazy you never apply yourself try harder not good enough you suck go away. That may have contributed to why I am the way I am sometimes. I don’t know but I’m really glad to be seeing a counselor again, because I think she’s really good even if all that makes me uncomfortable and stirs up memories I thought were safely buried, but no I didn’t because I didn’t think about them because they were safely buried. And now they’re not and I feel like a wreck a train wreck everyone dies except a bit of left frontal lobe and the amigdala, which was living in the Sahara at the time of the accident. We have not ruled out the possibility of terrorism. And if there’s anyone reading this I apologize for everything. But I won’t explain. I’ve tried too many times to explain the way I think, and it all seems self explanatory to me. I think I’ll sleep now. I hate complaining like this which is a complaint itself. Goodnight.
I'm done screwing with this for tonight. Feel free to edit and revise as much as you want.
Friday, May 20, 2011
I Just Want to Mention...
So I was looking at my blog's stats ('cause I like to do that), and I've gotten 'pageviews' (whatever that really means) from an interesting mix of countries. US is the biggest, of course, but under that comes Denmark, Germany, Malasia, and Russia. I think that's one of the coolest things about the internet; you can interact with people halfway around the world!
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
The Floor and I Have a Love/Hate Relationship
I've been sleeping on the floor of my room for the past five days or so for no reason other than a) I'm anxious and b) I felt like it. And c) there is SO MUCH STUFF piled EVERYWHERE in my room (including on top of my bed), which I just can't bring myself to clean up before school is over, that I fear to move around too much lest I disturb something and cause the Goddess of Chaos to awaken and burst from my subconcious mind and throttle me from the inside out. :)
Wait... Did that even make sense?
Screw it!
Screw it with screws!
Yeah...
>.>
<.<
>.<;
I'll just go to sleep now.
Wait... Did that even make sense?
Screw it!
Screw it with screws!
Yeah...
>.>
<.<
>.<;
I'll just go to sleep now.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Seven days... Seven days... Seven days...
Just seven days left until finals, ten days 'til the end of high school. Then I will be able to update regularly again! Also, I have a 53% in government. But if I can get my missing work in I should be able to bring my grade up to passing. So yay! No more summer school for me!
I want to reiterate my love of comments. If you read my blog, I would love to see you comment. It lets me know that you like what I'm doing (or tells me what I'm doing wrong, which I hope you'll start doing with my writing at least; without criticism, I cannot improve :) and gives me incentive to update more regularly.
Check out Not_With_Ink's page, too.
So don't expect much for the next week, but after that I will be posting nearly every day.
I want to reiterate my love of comments. If you read my blog, I would love to see you comment. It lets me know that you like what I'm doing (or tells me what I'm doing wrong, which I hope you'll start doing with my writing at least; without criticism, I cannot improve :) and gives me incentive to update more regularly.
Check out Not_With_Ink's page, too.
So don't expect much for the next week, but after that I will be posting nearly every day.
Monday, March 21, 2011
I Love Xena
Because Xena: Warrior Princess is so awesome. I love it. As I believe I've mentioned. I watch it on Netflix, which has six full seasons for instant watch. If I did drugs, Xena would be my drug.
That reads really awkwardly. But Xena is a symbol of girl power!
Anyway, things have been not-so-great, so I took a bit of a breather from blogging, but now I'm back. And I have a teddy-bear with a heartbeat. Creepiest. Thing. EVER.
And totally awesome.
Rather like Xena in fact.
But fluffier. With substantially less armor. And I'm pretty sure his heart has stopped beating many more times than hers has.
I apologize. But three and a half hours of sleep can do this to anybody.
That reads really awkwardly. But Xena is a symbol of girl power!
Anyway, things have been not-so-great, so I took a bit of a breather from blogging, but now I'm back. And I have a teddy-bear with a heartbeat. Creepiest. Thing. EVER.
And totally awesome.
Rather like Xena in fact.
But fluffier. With substantially less armor. And I'm pretty sure his heart has stopped beating many more times than hers has.
I apologize. But three and a half hours of sleep can do this to anybody.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
College
So I'm back and really excited to go to college! Whichever one I end up attending, I know I will be so much happier there than here. I just know it. Anyway, I met some great people, I learned a lot, and now it's back to high school. Interesting tidbit: my shuttle back to the airport was a white stretch limo. The shuttle to the college was a van with "Shuttle Express" painted on it, but the limo had no markings so I was honestly worried that I was being abducted by the mob or something. But no. It was just another shuttle.
So that was my first time in a limo.
They had complementary water. :)
Now I'm home again, and I've pretty much narrowed down my colleges to two. Which is why I don't want to apply for theater scholarships in all six colleges to which I applied. Just does not seem worth it. I am making progress in one or two of my various projects, so more about that next time.
For now, homework. :(
And a quick side note. I really do not like it when people I don't know touch my possessions without my permission. Even if they're just curious. See, this happened to me in English class on Thursday. This girl picked up my eraser, looked at it, and put it down again as she was walking by, and it really made me angry. It probably wasn't even what she did that bothered me, so much as the way she completely ignored me, didn't even look at me once, as if I didn't exist, as if I wasn't worth asking, as if I were somehow less than she. If she had asked, it would have been completely fine, but as it was, it wasn't. And I probably should have told her that, because she probably didn't even realize. But I can never think of that at the time, somehow.
So that was my first time in a limo.
They had complementary water. :)
Now I'm home again, and I've pretty much narrowed down my colleges to two. Which is why I don't want to apply for theater scholarships in all six colleges to which I applied. Just does not seem worth it. I am making progress in one or two of my various projects, so more about that next time.
For now, homework. :(
And a quick side note. I really do not like it when people I don't know touch my possessions without my permission. Even if they're just curious. See, this happened to me in English class on Thursday. This girl picked up my eraser, looked at it, and put it down again as she was walking by, and it really made me angry. It probably wasn't even what she did that bothered me, so much as the way she completely ignored me, didn't even look at me once, as if I didn't exist, as if I wasn't worth asking, as if I were somehow less than she. If she had asked, it would have been completely fine, but as it was, it wasn't. And I probably should have told her that, because she probably didn't even realize. But I can never think of that at the time, somehow.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Quick update
This Thursday I will be flying to Seattle to visit UPS. I am very excited and busy. I plan to take notes and may write about it later.
Adelle needs a new purse, so I am in the process of making her one. It will, of course, have a pigeon on it.
Yesterday I wrote to a local theatre to see if they might hire an intern. Wish me luck.
I am reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. No other book has ever made me actually cry in class; I recommend it very highly indeed.
And finally, I have been looking around my house for a drawing I did in ninth grade. If I find it, I will post it on here.
Adelle needs a new purse, so I am in the process of making her one. It will, of course, have a pigeon on it.
Yesterday I wrote to a local theatre to see if they might hire an intern. Wish me luck.
I am reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. No other book has ever made me actually cry in class; I recommend it very highly indeed.
And finally, I have been looking around my house for a drawing I did in ninth grade. If I find it, I will post it on here.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Introducing Yet Another Half-Finished Project
Or
"How Many Are There Anyway?"
Last year I was persuaded by my friends to try writing a novel in a month. This did not turn out well.
My goal was 30,000 words by the end of the month. I wrote... 2299. Had I stuck with that goal I would have had to write that much every two days, which is technically doable, but I'm terrible at these 'just half an hour every day' things. Oh well.
Anyway, this is what I wrote:
Novel for NaNoWriMo
Liam:
When Liam had put on his sweater and gone to find the Tree of Portals, that morning, he had very little idea of how much he was about to change his world. Well, his world and the Underworld, to be strictly accurate. The human world, the last and farthest of the three, would prove largely untouched by the repercussions of his actions, at least on the surface. Yet who can truly say how deep the ripples have gone. It is more than possible that we may awaken some day to find that we have been living in a dream, and that some ancient force has pervaded our everyday existence. But I digress.
The morning was cool, but not cold; it was late spring in the Otherworld and a hundred flying things sang greeting at the rising of the sun. Liam awoke to this cacophony of trills and hoots and barking coughs and crawled out from beneath the lattice of hazelnut branches that had covered his sleeping-place. He stretched in the dawn light, pulled off his sweater, shook the leaves, dirt, torn edges, stains, and sweat out of it, and put it back on. In less than two minutes he had scaled one of the huge, ancient rowan, or quickenbeam, trees that monopolized that grove and was peering out through its topmost branches. The tree was growing on a little rise in the forest floor and Liam could see his father's castle rising out of the intensely green spring foliage, a ways off, and to his right. The kitchen fires had already been rekindled from the banked and still-glowing coals of the day before; he could smell the pleasant tang of burning apple-wood and see the smoke trace a faint line against the lavender sky. Slowly turning away, Liam looked in the opposite direction, up the slant of the ground to where the mountain could be seen rising to a jagged peak.
'Go toward the nearest mountain,' Tara had told him when he had wondered, the day before, if it was possible to still find the Tree of Portals. 'If you call him with the right name, he should meet you as you go.'
'How can he meet me?' Liam had asked her, 'Does he have no roots, as you do? How can a tree live without roots?'
She had shivered her leaves at him, a mild rebuke, and said, 'The Tree of Portals, as you call him, has a root system that spans the worlds, touching all three. He has sprouts in each, but lives in the Soul-world, the Underworld. He moves his sprouts from place to place in such a way that it seems they have always been wherever they are seen, and they leave no mark behind them when they go.'
'But does he still connect our Otherworld with the human world?'
'I do not know, but I believe he does.'
'With what name should I call him?'
And Tara had told him a name which was the flowing of water underground, the clear beauty of a crisp breeze, the rich, earthy loam of a forest floor. It was new and old leaves, flowers of many kinds, sap and bark and heartwood, and roots. The name was a deeper magic than any Liam had yet known and he breathed it like a fragrance, holding it in his mind carefully, an overfull beaker which he dared not spill.
In his mind Liam called the name and then, thinking that might not be enough, spoke it aloud. It felt as if a bit of the liquid had been drunk, and so he could proceed with less care. He was not particularly good at magic, having never been instructed in its use, but he knew what it felt like. This was definitely some kind of magic, but it was older than anything he had experienced before. All this he sensed in the blink of an instant, as he was speaking, and then there was nothing. Wondering, Liam spoke the name once more, but whatever that had been, it didn't seem inclined to happen again.
He climbed down, and dropped the last fifteen feet or so, landing gracefully on tough bare feet, and doing so startled a horned squirrel who chittered at him angrily. He set off through the forest, heading away from his father's castle and toward the mountain. The ground sloped gradually upward. Liam was more fit even than most fae, and the incline gave him no trouble. He ran upwards, flitting through the dappled shade, thin and streamlined as a greyhound.
The fae are an enormously diverse race, incorporating many subgroups, but some traits are common to almost all of them (excluding, of course, the unicorn and her intelligent beasts). The fae are generally tall, and have some humanoid features. They may have horns upon their heads or animal ears or a tail. About half are
strikingly inhuman; they are distinguishable from us at a glance. The others have
more subtle differences, and these are divided into two groups; the Tuatha de Dannan, the more populous type and the last of the fae to have immigrated to the Otherworld; and the Fomorians, the horned lords who still ruled the northern climes. Liam was one of the Tuatha de, and actually looked quite human; tousled dark brown hair in need of a trim, strong chin, long eyes under straight, dark brows, open-looking face, a bit tall for a fifteen year old, and extremely slim, but he almost could pass for human. Only his eyes really gave him away, a green as dark and intense as the shadows through which he ran.
As Liam gained altitude the trees grew less magnificent, more twisted and gnarled. By mid-morning he was toiling up a steep slope, pulling himself upward by grasping the sap-filled spring growth. His hands came away sticky and green, but he didn't bother to wipe them off. He was looking for a sign even as he ran, some kind of pointer to tell him where to turn. It seemed perfectly natural to him that he had so little idea of where he was going. He always found things best when he was not thinking of anything much and just let his feet carry him away. Liam had always been a wanderer.
So he was hardly paying attention and thus, when he tried to step onto empty air, failed to catch himself, and tumbled headlong into the bowl of a little valley. It was only about twenty feet across and clear of shrubs and bracken, as the foothills had not been. The reason for this seemed abundantly obvious, for in the center of the valley there was a great oak tree, which had grown as two separate trunks that wound around each other in a quite unnatural way, and whose branches shaded the entire valley, letting little light through. Even Liam, who was used to seeing strange things every day, was taken aback by the growth of that tree. The first ten feet of each trunk bowed out in such a manner as to create quite a wide aperture between them. It was in the shape of an eye. He stood up, rubbing his bruised knees, and walked slowly toward it. There was a humming in the air, an undercurrent of magic like a great dynamo generating electricity, which grew more and more intolerable the nearer he got. The sound/feeling pressed against his temples, set his teeth grinding, wormed its way into his brain so that he gained a kind of fearlessness despite the huge well of latent magical power growing right in front of him. Liam asked the tree if it was the Tree of Portals. It didn't answer him, whether unfamiliar with the language or simply being rude, he knew not. And he did not greatly care. What mattered was that Liam was standing in front of the Tree of Portals, wearing a World Crystal on a strap around his neck.
He stopped about two feet outside the range of the exposed roots and sat on the soft, damp grass. Then he took the crystal out and held it up so that the light shone through. The World Crystal was as long as his middle finger, and as slim. There was a small hole drilled through its base, which was rough and uneven, as if chipped out in a hurry, through which Liam had threaded a bit of sinew and then tied that around the leather strap. It was transparent, but opalescent; a thousand flickers of colour danced it in its slight shadow. Turning the crystal in his hands made the light dance from one shadow to another, and where it crossed the tree, the bark began to glow with the same flickering sparks of color. Liam flashed the light across the trunks, into the opening between them.
At once the hum grew to a roar and the whole tree lit up. It was like lightning in its brilliance, but kept going where lightning would have died in an instant. It was searing his eyes even though they were tightly shut it was burning him...
Suddenly it was over. He seemed to be floating, but the light had blinded him, and he couldn't tell where he might be. Whispered words began to crawl through his head as if they'd been spoken aloud. They said, "It has been such a long time since anyone wanted to go there. Are you sure? You know it is strictly forbidden."
"I know."
"And you still want to go?"
"Yes."
"Why? There will be a reprisal."
"I love a human girl," he answered, and opened his eyes. He was standing on the side of a strangely barren hill, looking east into the last ending gleam of a sunset. The landscape spread out before him was... solid, in a way that his world was not. Liam had a feeling that here if you turned a corner, you would end up just around the corner from where you were before. How strange.
Behind him the Portal Oak whispered, 'I'll wait here for you.'
"How do I find her?" His voice sounded petulant to his own ears.
The Tree of Portals did not answer.
So Liam started walking, as he always did when he didn't know how to find what he was looking for. He went downhill, because it was easier, and soon was tramping along beside a stream. By the time the moon rose he was jogging a very flat road, with huge, roaring beasts passing him every so often. They had glowing eyes, low to the ground, and were partly transparent; he could see dark lumps inside. They might have been people. Eventually Liam's feet carried him across the road. He turned onto the next lane he came to, following it as it wound between low stone walls and strangely sparse and stunted trees. One word pounded through his head, over and over, keeping time to the rhythm of his breath. A Call. Kirin. Kirin. Kirin.
Kirin:
Kirin was asleep. In her dream she stood at the edge of a cliff, a sea breeze running invisible fingers through her short blond hair. Looking down there was only mist. It had risen almost as high as the cliff itself and extended to the horizon. A man crept up behind her, and as she sensed him coming a terrible fear rose within her. She tried desperately to turn around but found herself frozen. Struggle was useless, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she was forced to listen helplessly to the steady tread growing louder. The man stopped not six inches behind her. She felt his breath stir the tiny hairs on her neck. Kirin felt all this with an odd duality; she was herself and experiencing terrible fear, but at the same time she was watching herself in complete detachment, an impartial observer. The man pushed her lightly exactly in the center of her back, and Kirin lost her precarious balance and fell head over heels into the mist. She caught a glimpse of his face before the fog closed around her; an inhumanly wide smile and sharp, pointed teeth.
And quite suddenly Kirin was sitting up in her bed, sweating. The waxing gibbous moon peeked through her window, bright enough to clearly illuminate the rag rug, the doll house in the corner that her father had made the year she was born (it had electricity and running water), the pine dresser with her hairbrush and a multitude of clips, barrettes, and hair-ties scattered on top, a corner of the scarlet bedspread. Kirin sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling with her toes for the pink slippers. Sliding her feet into their fuzzy softness, Kirin tiptoed to the stairway door and opened it slowly, so that it didn't creak. Her room was the attic, and to get outside she had to go past both her father's room and her brother's.
She crept down the hallway, and passed her father's room without a hitch. Just as she came abreast of her brother's door, however, it opened. A thin silhouette stood outlined just inside the threshold.
"Where are you going?" Niall asked, stepping out to block her. He was a round faced boy, with blue-black hair and widely spaced green eyes, a bit too far apart for his otherwise good looks; he had a strong chin and prominent cheekbones, with naturally straight teeth and an intelligent mouth, which quirked a different way for each expression, as if it had a life of its own. At the moment it was stretched and one corner twisted down.
"I just want to sit in the moonlight a little.
"How Many Are There Anyway?"
Last year I was persuaded by my friends to try writing a novel in a month. This did not turn out well.
My goal was 30,000 words by the end of the month. I wrote... 2299. Had I stuck with that goal I would have had to write that much every two days, which is technically doable, but I'm terrible at these 'just half an hour every day' things. Oh well.
Anyway, this is what I wrote:
Novel for NaNoWriMo
Liam:
When Liam had put on his sweater and gone to find the Tree of Portals, that morning, he had very little idea of how much he was about to change his world. Well, his world and the Underworld, to be strictly accurate. The human world, the last and farthest of the three, would prove largely untouched by the repercussions of his actions, at least on the surface. Yet who can truly say how deep the ripples have gone. It is more than possible that we may awaken some day to find that we have been living in a dream, and that some ancient force has pervaded our everyday existence. But I digress.
The morning was cool, but not cold; it was late spring in the Otherworld and a hundred flying things sang greeting at the rising of the sun. Liam awoke to this cacophony of trills and hoots and barking coughs and crawled out from beneath the lattice of hazelnut branches that had covered his sleeping-place. He stretched in the dawn light, pulled off his sweater, shook the leaves, dirt, torn edges, stains, and sweat out of it, and put it back on. In less than two minutes he had scaled one of the huge, ancient rowan, or quickenbeam, trees that monopolized that grove and was peering out through its topmost branches. The tree was growing on a little rise in the forest floor and Liam could see his father's castle rising out of the intensely green spring foliage, a ways off, and to his right. The kitchen fires had already been rekindled from the banked and still-glowing coals of the day before; he could smell the pleasant tang of burning apple-wood and see the smoke trace a faint line against the lavender sky. Slowly turning away, Liam looked in the opposite direction, up the slant of the ground to where the mountain could be seen rising to a jagged peak.
'Go toward the nearest mountain,' Tara had told him when he had wondered, the day before, if it was possible to still find the Tree of Portals. 'If you call him with the right name, he should meet you as you go.'
'How can he meet me?' Liam had asked her, 'Does he have no roots, as you do? How can a tree live without roots?'
She had shivered her leaves at him, a mild rebuke, and said, 'The Tree of Portals, as you call him, has a root system that spans the worlds, touching all three. He has sprouts in each, but lives in the Soul-world, the Underworld. He moves his sprouts from place to place in such a way that it seems they have always been wherever they are seen, and they leave no mark behind them when they go.'
'But does he still connect our Otherworld with the human world?'
'I do not know, but I believe he does.'
'With what name should I call him?'
And Tara had told him a name which was the flowing of water underground, the clear beauty of a crisp breeze, the rich, earthy loam of a forest floor. It was new and old leaves, flowers of many kinds, sap and bark and heartwood, and roots. The name was a deeper magic than any Liam had yet known and he breathed it like a fragrance, holding it in his mind carefully, an overfull beaker which he dared not spill.
In his mind Liam called the name and then, thinking that might not be enough, spoke it aloud. It felt as if a bit of the liquid had been drunk, and so he could proceed with less care. He was not particularly good at magic, having never been instructed in its use, but he knew what it felt like. This was definitely some kind of magic, but it was older than anything he had experienced before. All this he sensed in the blink of an instant, as he was speaking, and then there was nothing. Wondering, Liam spoke the name once more, but whatever that had been, it didn't seem inclined to happen again.
He climbed down, and dropped the last fifteen feet or so, landing gracefully on tough bare feet, and doing so startled a horned squirrel who chittered at him angrily. He set off through the forest, heading away from his father's castle and toward the mountain. The ground sloped gradually upward. Liam was more fit even than most fae, and the incline gave him no trouble. He ran upwards, flitting through the dappled shade, thin and streamlined as a greyhound.
The fae are an enormously diverse race, incorporating many subgroups, but some traits are common to almost all of them (excluding, of course, the unicorn and her intelligent beasts). The fae are generally tall, and have some humanoid features. They may have horns upon their heads or animal ears or a tail. About half are
strikingly inhuman; they are distinguishable from us at a glance. The others have
more subtle differences, and these are divided into two groups; the Tuatha de Dannan, the more populous type and the last of the fae to have immigrated to the Otherworld; and the Fomorians, the horned lords who still ruled the northern climes. Liam was one of the Tuatha de, and actually looked quite human; tousled dark brown hair in need of a trim, strong chin, long eyes under straight, dark brows, open-looking face, a bit tall for a fifteen year old, and extremely slim, but he almost could pass for human. Only his eyes really gave him away, a green as dark and intense as the shadows through which he ran.
As Liam gained altitude the trees grew less magnificent, more twisted and gnarled. By mid-morning he was toiling up a steep slope, pulling himself upward by grasping the sap-filled spring growth. His hands came away sticky and green, but he didn't bother to wipe them off. He was looking for a sign even as he ran, some kind of pointer to tell him where to turn. It seemed perfectly natural to him that he had so little idea of where he was going. He always found things best when he was not thinking of anything much and just let his feet carry him away. Liam had always been a wanderer.
So he was hardly paying attention and thus, when he tried to step onto empty air, failed to catch himself, and tumbled headlong into the bowl of a little valley. It was only about twenty feet across and clear of shrubs and bracken, as the foothills had not been. The reason for this seemed abundantly obvious, for in the center of the valley there was a great oak tree, which had grown as two separate trunks that wound around each other in a quite unnatural way, and whose branches shaded the entire valley, letting little light through. Even Liam, who was used to seeing strange things every day, was taken aback by the growth of that tree. The first ten feet of each trunk bowed out in such a manner as to create quite a wide aperture between them. It was in the shape of an eye. He stood up, rubbing his bruised knees, and walked slowly toward it. There was a humming in the air, an undercurrent of magic like a great dynamo generating electricity, which grew more and more intolerable the nearer he got. The sound/feeling pressed against his temples, set his teeth grinding, wormed its way into his brain so that he gained a kind of fearlessness despite the huge well of latent magical power growing right in front of him. Liam asked the tree if it was the Tree of Portals. It didn't answer him, whether unfamiliar with the language or simply being rude, he knew not. And he did not greatly care. What mattered was that Liam was standing in front of the Tree of Portals, wearing a World Crystal on a strap around his neck.
He stopped about two feet outside the range of the exposed roots and sat on the soft, damp grass. Then he took the crystal out and held it up so that the light shone through. The World Crystal was as long as his middle finger, and as slim. There was a small hole drilled through its base, which was rough and uneven, as if chipped out in a hurry, through which Liam had threaded a bit of sinew and then tied that around the leather strap. It was transparent, but opalescent; a thousand flickers of colour danced it in its slight shadow. Turning the crystal in his hands made the light dance from one shadow to another, and where it crossed the tree, the bark began to glow with the same flickering sparks of color. Liam flashed the light across the trunks, into the opening between them.
At once the hum grew to a roar and the whole tree lit up. It was like lightning in its brilliance, but kept going where lightning would have died in an instant. It was searing his eyes even though they were tightly shut it was burning him...
Suddenly it was over. He seemed to be floating, but the light had blinded him, and he couldn't tell where he might be. Whispered words began to crawl through his head as if they'd been spoken aloud. They said, "It has been such a long time since anyone wanted to go there. Are you sure? You know it is strictly forbidden."
"I know."
"And you still want to go?"
"Yes."
"Why? There will be a reprisal."
"I love a human girl," he answered, and opened his eyes. He was standing on the side of a strangely barren hill, looking east into the last ending gleam of a sunset. The landscape spread out before him was... solid, in a way that his world was not. Liam had a feeling that here if you turned a corner, you would end up just around the corner from where you were before. How strange.
Behind him the Portal Oak whispered, 'I'll wait here for you.'
"How do I find her?" His voice sounded petulant to his own ears.
The Tree of Portals did not answer.
So Liam started walking, as he always did when he didn't know how to find what he was looking for. He went downhill, because it was easier, and soon was tramping along beside a stream. By the time the moon rose he was jogging a very flat road, with huge, roaring beasts passing him every so often. They had glowing eyes, low to the ground, and were partly transparent; he could see dark lumps inside. They might have been people. Eventually Liam's feet carried him across the road. He turned onto the next lane he came to, following it as it wound between low stone walls and strangely sparse and stunted trees. One word pounded through his head, over and over, keeping time to the rhythm of his breath. A Call. Kirin. Kirin. Kirin.
Kirin:
Kirin was asleep. In her dream she stood at the edge of a cliff, a sea breeze running invisible fingers through her short blond hair. Looking down there was only mist. It had risen almost as high as the cliff itself and extended to the horizon. A man crept up behind her, and as she sensed him coming a terrible fear rose within her. She tried desperately to turn around but found herself frozen. Struggle was useless, and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she was forced to listen helplessly to the steady tread growing louder. The man stopped not six inches behind her. She felt his breath stir the tiny hairs on her neck. Kirin felt all this with an odd duality; she was herself and experiencing terrible fear, but at the same time she was watching herself in complete detachment, an impartial observer. The man pushed her lightly exactly in the center of her back, and Kirin lost her precarious balance and fell head over heels into the mist. She caught a glimpse of his face before the fog closed around her; an inhumanly wide smile and sharp, pointed teeth.
And quite suddenly Kirin was sitting up in her bed, sweating. The waxing gibbous moon peeked through her window, bright enough to clearly illuminate the rag rug, the doll house in the corner that her father had made the year she was born (it had electricity and running water), the pine dresser with her hairbrush and a multitude of clips, barrettes, and hair-ties scattered on top, a corner of the scarlet bedspread. Kirin sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling with her toes for the pink slippers. Sliding her feet into their fuzzy softness, Kirin tiptoed to the stairway door and opened it slowly, so that it didn't creak. Her room was the attic, and to get outside she had to go past both her father's room and her brother's.
She crept down the hallway, and passed her father's room without a hitch. Just as she came abreast of her brother's door, however, it opened. A thin silhouette stood outlined just inside the threshold.
"Where are you going?" Niall asked, stepping out to block her. He was a round faced boy, with blue-black hair and widely spaced green eyes, a bit too far apart for his otherwise good looks; he had a strong chin and prominent cheekbones, with naturally straight teeth and an intelligent mouth, which quirked a different way for each expression, as if it had a life of its own. At the moment it was stretched and one corner twisted down.
"I just want to sit in the moonlight a little.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
And Then We Were Told of Another Ludicrous Plan
There are two things, no three things... Anyway, I want to tell you about my latest plans.
First, I'm updating Journey of an Evil Henchman (5) Part Two, so check it out!
Secondly, I've been wanting to make my own webcomic for a while now, and I actually started drawing one on paper something like a year ago, so I was wondering if you might be interested in seeing it. It isn't very long (at all) yet, but if you want me to post it anyway leave me a comment. It may be awhile until I actually get it up and running, but I've already started tracing in the first few pages; progress is being made. I'm calling the comic 'Bad Luck,' in loo of anything better; maybe you could give me some suggestions?
Lastly, you remember how I was talking about making my prom dress? Well here's a link to the pattern I'm using. It will be kind of a maroon/plum color with black braid rather than the ribbon and fringe pictured. And I'm not making the collar.
On the back it suggests purchasing a 120" hoop skirt.
And at least one extra petticoat.
It will be AWESOME.
First, I'm updating Journey of an Evil Henchman (5) Part Two, so check it out!
Secondly, I've been wanting to make my own webcomic for a while now, and I actually started drawing one on paper something like a year ago, so I was wondering if you might be interested in seeing it. It isn't very long (at all) yet, but if you want me to post it anyway leave me a comment. It may be awhile until I actually get it up and running, but I've already started tracing in the first few pages; progress is being made. I'm calling the comic 'Bad Luck,' in loo of anything better; maybe you could give me some suggestions?
Lastly, you remember how I was talking about making my prom dress? Well here's a link to the pattern I'm using. It will be kind of a maroon/plum color with black braid rather than the ribbon and fringe pictured. And I'm not making the collar.
On the back it suggests purchasing a 120" hoop skirt.
And at least one extra petticoat.
It will be AWESOME.
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