Picture of the Day:

My apartment complex flooded today; we had tornados about!

Quote of the Day: 

"All the things one has forgotten scream for help in dreams." 

-Elias Canetti

Hello, my dearest readers! Today has been quite the lazy day; and I admit openly to you that I probably should not have been so relaxed. I have spent all day inside, for outside a storm has raged all day. Lightning, thunder, torrential down-pouring and flooding all kept me cooped up inside. Oh, and the threat of the ever devastating tornado. I must say, it was certainly a lovely display of power, and while I did not venture out to walk around, I kept all my windows open and listened to the sound of the rain with great interest and relaxation. 

And somehow, I thought of this: 

A while back, I would venture to say about three or four years ago, I had a nightmare. My sister and a friend of mine had stayed up late playing Haunting Ground. It is a fantastic horror game for the PS2. In the game, you play a girl named Fiona who is trapped in a mansion in the woods, and monsters chase you. Your only defense is to hide. You cannot fight back, and the more you run from them, the more exhausted your character gets. Basically, you can go into "panic mode", which makes the screen fuzzy, black and white, choppy, and makes your character hard to control. 

Anyway, after a couple of hours running from monsters in a dark room at midnight, going to bed made it inevitable that I would dream up something just as twisted. And so I did. 

I dreamed that I was asked to come with a bunch of other people to a secluded mansion to meet with some funders that supported a Christian scholarship. I waited around in the front lobby with a few other girls and guys and awaited my turn to speak with the head of the scholarship fund to see if I ultimately could get any money for my college endeavors. When it was finally my turn, and I was called in, it dawned on me that I had not seen any of the other girls leave before me. The man I was speaking to left me very uneasy, and after a few moments of conversation I got the impression that the man was evil. I bolted from the room, but he called one of his butlers to catch me and keep me at bay. I was screaming and running through this mansion with these demon-like staff members on my trail. It was increasingly clear that whatever was chasing me was not human, and it was equally becoming apparent that I was going to be unable to escape it. So, I tried to hide. 

But there was no place to go. The corridor was lined with doors that were closed and the butler demon was gaining on me. As I passed a certain door, though, something grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, closing the door and locking it behind us. At first, I wanted to scream some more, but they covered my mouth and begged me to stay quiet, assuring me that they were trying to help me. The footsteps of the demon guy could be heard approaching, and my rescuer, a very handsome young man in a period-esque style of dress, bade me to hide beneath his desk while he threw off the monster. So, I scrambled for cover beneath the desk and listened. 

The handsome guy answered the door when the butler knocked on it. I don't rightly remember the conversation they had, but I do remember for a moment I was afraid that the rescuer was going to turn me over. Nothing happened, though, and the monster left on his own accord to pursue me down the corridor. He found me beneath the desk and smiled at me, and assured me I could come out now. 

Somehow we got to talking, and he explained that people did not often attempt to run away from his father. So, I got gutsy and asked what the heck he wanted with me. In response, the young man said, "The same thing he wants from everyone. Your soul."

It turned out, that the man at the head of this "scholarship" was Satan himself, and that the young man who had rescued me was one of his sons; the youngest one. Naturally, I asked why he had helped me. He replied that he didn't know. 

Through a course of events, which I now cannot recall, I ended up in a confrontation between Satan's oldest sons and myself. The youngest son was there, but sadly watching. He had said that he was part demon, and could no longer protect me. He was destined to be like his father, pre-damned; unable to fight his inherent evilness. So, the elder brothers were pitted against me in a grand display of fallen-angel powers. And I was losing, badly. I think I had been trying to escape, and trying to convince the youngest son to come with me. Anyway, I was basically losing my soul and body to the most horrendous of tortures. I could tell I was dying.

So the youngest son broke in to rescue me from his brothers, when he could no longer take the fact that I was being tortured and wounded just because I was someone who was "good". But I was already dead. I kind of became some sort of angel. I could see my body bleeding below me, and I could see the son fighting trying to protect me. 

His brothers were casting jeers at him, calling him a traitor, and saying he would never be able to keep it up because he was the devil's son. God would never help him. The dream ended when I told that son that God would forgive him, no matter what. 

I think, perhaps, I may take this on as another noveling endeavor and change the plot a bit to make it more conducive to a fantasy novel with a Christian moral at the end. No matter what, God loves you. You always have a choice. 

Clearly, my imagination is over-active. But, I like it that way. I am never lacking inspiration.

Picture of the Day: 

Sea turtle at the aquarium!

Quote of the Day: 

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on." 

-Robert Frost

Today, I am going to put up a sneak preview of The Curse of Black Isle. Very sneak preview. However, to console you on the brevity of the piece, I am going to give you the opportunity to help me! Here, I have written a scene from the novel--however, it is not the from the exact beginning. It is, I would think, from about a quarter of the way into the novel. So, you may be a little lost as to what exactly is going on, though I will try and explain some of it without giving away my entire plot. 

Now. I have written this scene twice in two separate ways: from first person and from third person. Here, reader, I will ask you to tell me which way you enjoyed more. I do hope to hear from you on this; I myself am torn. I lean, methinks, toward the first person version. It allowed clever insight into the world of one of my characters, and allowed me to explore the idea of seeing. It was fun. However, the third person version of the narrative seems more logical, as I have created a world that must be properly displayed and shown to the readers. Either way, I have experimented and now ask for some help!

What you need to know before reading: 

Viviana is a pirate. Liam and Jarek are not, and are loyal to the king of Veliar (the land they hail from). The two men have been sent to find the weapon in question here and bring it back. 

Unfortunately, that is all I can tell you without spoiling some nice plot device, so now it is time to let you delve right in, whether you are confused or not! 

So, without further ado, the much awaited scene. First, the third person.

Viviana leaned back, offering an elegant but roguish smile. Some great glimmer of amusement shone in her ghostly eyes, and Jarek appeared simply offended that the lady looked so amused. “Tell me,” the captain began lightly, eyeing both men before her with great interest. “What trinket could possibly interest your king? Surely nothing is worth more than all his country.”

Liam and Jarek exchanged glances. It was Liam who turned back to Viviana carefully. “We seek the Treasure of Black Isle.”

Immediately, Viviana’s face lost all signs of amusement; the curl of her lip fell away to a tight line, and the grey of her eyes transformed to steel. “Do you now,” she muttered quietly, leaning forward after a beat of thought. “And what precisely could your king be wanting with that?”

“There is a tale of a weapon—“ Jarek began.

“Aye. A powerful one, more ruthless than the sea,” Viviana interrupted coolly.

Liam leaned forward eagerly. “Then you’ve heard of it.”

Viviana turned to face him, face still drawn and set. “Yes. And I know more of it than two navy men.”

A weighty and uncomfortable silence fell over both men under the strength of Viviana’s stare. Liam himself could barely breathe, such was adrenaline seizing his veins, and Jarek was none the better. His brow seemed glossed with nervous sweat, and he had hidden his hands beneath the table to keep from drawing attention to his trembling hands.

“Now,” Viviana finally said, breaking the quiet and standing, moving about the table to stand beside the window. “You have yet to tell me why the king desires this weapon.” Her eyes no longer fell upon the two gentlemen, and they were grateful for the reprieve. Now, while the captain’s attentions fell upon the crashing waves, they exchanged nervous glances.

“To the west, the kingdom of Bellumar has issued us warning. The king is either to give the kingdom over to them peaceably by offering his son in marriage, or we shall lose it by warfare. We have until the end of the year,” Jarek explained slowly. “You must help us.”

In one swift movement, Viviana had wheeled about and drawn the sword that dangled from her hip, dangerously pointing the tip at Jarek’s throat.

“Must?” She spat dangerously. Jarek went rigid, and all the color drained from his cheeks. “I must do nothing. You forget, gentlemen, that I am a pirate, and captain of this ship. I am a citizen to the sea. You have no power here.” Her eyes narrowed. “In fact, it is your people who are responsible for hanging my kind. You are on my ship, alone. Why should I not just slit your throats and be rid of you?”

Now. Disclaimer about the above: I have done no work on it beside the initial pounding out of the idea. I did not want to work and toil over word choices yet if I was going to simply discard it for the favor of my other version. So, in your comments, do keep in mind that I will make this much more elegant and fleshed out with description, should this be the one that is ultimately chosen. For now, it is just a reference jump-point.

Now, its competition: the first person!

Viviana leaned back, offering an elegant but roguish smile. I could see a great glimmer of amusement shining in her eyes, and it appeared Jarek had noticed it as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see his shoulders rigid and lips turned to scowl. Likely, he was offended that the lady appeared so amused. “Tell me,” the captain began lightly, catching both my companion and I in with an interested eye. “What trinket could possibly interest your king? Surely nothing is worth more than all his country.”

            I felt Jarek’s eyes on me, and for a moment I turned to him. He clearly looked irritated; unable, I assumed, to fathom working with pirates to achieve anything honorable. Viviana was awaiting an answer, though, and sensing his willful silence, I spoke. “We seek the Treasure of Black Isle.”

            Immediately, Viviana’s face lost all signs of delight; the curl of her mouth fell away, and she pressed her lips together in a tight line, and there was an ever so subtle difference in the way she sat in her chair. But it was her eyes that gave way the sudden change more than anything else, the warm and laughing light that had beguiled me was gone. Now, her eyes were no different than the sword she carried at her hip: steely, and explicably sharp. “Do you now,” she muttered quietly. I kept a steady silence. I could not say what it was about my statement that had startled her so, though frightened she was. She leaned forward, resting her elbows upon the wooden table. With the same quiet voice she asked skeptically, “And what precisely could your king be wanting with that?”

            “There is a weapon—“ Jarek attempted to cut in.

            “Aye, a powerful one. More ruthless than the sea,” Viviana interrupted coolly.

            I could not contain some spark of excitement. “Then you’ve heard of it.”

            My statement drew all of her stare, but her face was still drawn and set in some sort of curious upset. “Yes. And I know more of it than two navy men,” she replied.

            A weighty and uncomfortable silence fell over Jarek and I. Our nerves were drawn tight. While Jarek was certainly attempting to keep his calm, the light that filtered in from the ship’s window gave way his sweat-glossed brow, and from where I was sitting beside him, I could see his hands shaking beneath the table. I could not have been faring much better; I was near bursting with my own sickly combination of excitement and fear.

            “Now,” Viviana finally said, saving us from the quiet. She stood, and moved about the table to turn her attention out the window. “You have yet to tell me why the king desires this weapon.”

            Free from her beautiful but dangerous stare, Jarek and I both offered a quiet and grateful sigh of relief. It was Jarek who took upon the daunting task of answering her question. “To the west, the kingdom of Bellumar has given us warning. The king is either to give the kingdom over to them peaceably by offering his son in marriage, or we shall lose it by warfare. We have until the end of the year. You must help us.”

            All the while I had kept my attention on Viviana. Even so, I could not precisely say when her sword had been unsheathed. Only that in a graceful and deadly whirl, she had turned and pressed the very tip against Jarek’s throat. I leapt from my seat, compulsively desiring to order her sword lowered, but even through Jarek’s visible terror, he offered me a look that asked me to remain steady.

            “Must?” She spat venomously, pressing the tip further against his skin. Jarek went completely rigid, and all the healthy color that he had drained from his cheeks the same as the ebbing tide. “I must do nothing. You forget, gentlemen, that I am a pirate, and captain of this ship. I am a citizen to the sea. You have no power here.” Her eyes marked me for a moment before resting once more on Jarek and narrowing dangerously. “In fact, it is the people like you who are responsible for hanging people like me. You are on my ship, alone. Why should I not slit your throats and be rid of you?”

Okay. This one I clearly had to explain details better right away because of the fact that it is told in first person. As you can see, it is told from the perspective of Liam. He seemed the logical choice to me since I mean for him to be the main focal point of the story, and will thereby be at all necessary events. Also, first person would add an extra air of mystery beyond the adventure itself, making the things that are unclear even more so.

Okay. I have done my part. Now it is time for you to do yours!

Which version should I continue to work on?

Picture of the Day: 

Cherokee, my sister's puppy, and Samwise, trying to keep off the chill on our Christmas-time camping trip!

Quote of the Day: 

"When you start on your road to Ithaca, / then pray that the road is long, / full of adventure, full of knowledge."

- C.P. Cavafy, "Ithaca"

Hello, my dear readers! I regret to say that I have once more forgotten about this little blog. But, I have once more returned, as my time has permitted me to do so! So, a quick update on what I have been doing with my writing endeavors.

Legacy of Elysia series

I am unsure how to qualify the progress I have made with this particular work, as I myself and highly frustrated. I have been working on this for a long while, years truly, and it has actually grown to be a problem. My style has progressed and changed since I have started, and when I spent my time rereading what I have already gotten down I was appalled by it; from there, I adamantly decided I need to rewrite everything I have gotten down so far. That being said, I really want to finish this story! So, I am toying around with finishing it as a first draft, and then fixing it all later. I am truthful, reader, when I say that I am completely disappointed in it, though, and have ultimately decided to set it aside a while more. 

The Immortals

This one is a work that I don't think I have mentioned before. I rediscovered it this weekend and scribbled out a scene or two I would like to see in it. It is slow, and probably the last novel I will ever finish for lack of true inspiration or structured story. It really is an idea of epic proportions, but with no structure to make it happen. I am, though, happy I found it again. It is completely worth keeping in mind.

Curse of Black Isle

This is the tentative title for a book idea that came to me over break. Very tentative. It is a story that combines my love of pirates and adventure with sailing, with epic magic and fantastical creatures! That being said, this is probably going to be the novel I complete first. Like Legacy of Elysia, this is one of the few ideas I have that is completely planned out. And the first I am attempting to write in first person. (You must understand, reader, I hate first person. However, as a challenge to myself I wrote a scene using the style and found that it expressed the scene better than my draft in third person. So, I am sticking with it.) Anyway, I have a few scenes written in this story now, and am quite pleased with them.  So stay on the lookout for this particular novel idea! 

That is, regrettably, all I have managed to get done. I cannot wait until I am out of school and homework will no longer deter my creative expression. I shall try to get something up here concerning one of these works I keep claiming I am working on in order to gain some feedback. Though, I am afraid that very few people will actually be keeping this little blog in mind by the time I am able to do that! 

Bear with me, reader! I am still adamantly pursuing my quest for penned perfection, and I would like it very much if you took the journey with me! 

And, like the poem "Ithaca" states, the journey is best long!

Sewing Adventures

Picture of the Day: 

Picture of a garden flower.

Quote of the Day:

"Life isn't long enough for love and art."

-W. Somerset Maugham

So, I have done no writing.

I really haven't had time. What I have had time to do, however, is think about my other hobbies. I love costumes; so today, I shall give you an update on what I am trying to sew. First of all, I am in the process of trying to make a hobbit costume for myself! Loosely based off of Rosie's party dress, I have changed the colors and fabrics to create an original, though recognizable, look. Straight from the Shire. I am super excited about this costume, and cannot wait until spring break so that I can work on it some more. It is, however, proving to be an expensive endeavor. Costuming always is. 

I am glad I have acquired almost all of the supplies needed so far. I just need to buy two more things: the pattern for the chemise and the fabric for it. It should come out quite spiffy.

Now, if there is one thing I hate, it is people who bug me asking me to make them costumes. Someone I know has recently (within the past few months) asked me to make him the costume for Altair from Assassin's Creed. My first reaction was probably not. But just for fun, I looked it up. Check this guy out!

I surprised myself. I want to try it.  Now--there is no way that I am going to be able to do the leather work--my machine isn't industrial enough, nor do I have the money or skill. But I think I could tackle the tunics, sash and hood, and probably even the trousers. This guy looks completely awesome!

Really, the parts I can do come in four parts.

For the under tunic, it looks to be grey and breathable and light. If you're an assassin, I am assuming it wouldn't be heavy. A cheap possibility could be to dye muslin light grey and use that to make it. Or find grey cotton, it it feels right. It looks a little roughly woven, though. So I am thinking muslin may work.

For the over tunic, I am thinking some kind of white fabric that has a sturdy weave but is not overly hot stuffy. The guy needs to be able to move--he's an assassin. The over tunic also has a hood. So whatever fabric I use has to be heavy enough to make a good hood, too. I am thinking a trip to JoAnns is in order to judge the price and feel the fabrics. Cotton may still work, too. So I would have to see. 

The sash is simple---loads of red cotton fabric sewn into a sash. Doable.

Now, the trousers. Are they black or brown? I think they look black--but I was doing some research and most gamers agree they are a very dark and musty brown. Opinions? Oh yeah. Probably something thick and durable. I would have to go shopping, again. 

I don't know when I will have time to do it. Maybe over the summer when I cannot find a job. (Hahahaha...=[ ) Nonetheless, I think I am going to try this costume and see what happens. My skills aren't amazing, but if I ignore the leather, this one looks pretty simple.

Opinions??