Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Post-NaNo: Character Interview and Announcements

First of all, do you remember the winner of HSBA's Best Teen Blog? Her name is Miss Raquel, and she's really rockin'.

She hosting an awesome giveaway over at her blog, God's Daughter.

But there have to be 200 followers on her blog before the giveaway can happen, and she's at 180 right now. So this is me asking you guys (or girls, actually, as this is more of a "girl" blog :) to check out Miss Raquel's blog. Partly because she asked, partly because I was going to anyway 'cause she's so awesome :)






Alright, now, what was next on the agenda? (agenda-- yeah right!)

Ah, that's right! My MC was going to join us for an interview. *coughs*


Me: Where's Chance, you guys?

Backstage People: He's coming, we just got a text from him. He's on his way.

Me: Text? How on earth...

(PS: to my characters, my name is Dir, so instead of "me" I'll be "Dir." Once Chance gets here, anyway. Oh, and you have to imagine his voice in a boyish English accent. Not some silly proper accent, but it has to be British. For me, sometimes its more Welsh-ish, but anyway...)

Me: *looks at camera/lighting people* Should we dim that light a little? How will he feel with a camera on him?


Camera Guy: You said he's from, like, 12th century England?


Me: Something like that, yeah.


Camera Guy: He won't even know what it is, then.


Me: But the guys back there just told me he texted them! I wonder how long he's been in town....


Camera Guy: *frowns* Whatever. It won't hurt him.


Me: *shrugs* True.


*door down the hall opens. footsteps.*


Me: Is that him, guys?


Chance: I'm assuming it's me you're looking for.


Me/Dir: Hi there, Chance!


*Chance enters room*


Chance: What am I--


Dir: Here, take a seat.


Chance: *points at chair* Sit down?


Dir: Yeah, that's fine. Sir Robert isn't here, so there's no one to wait on.


Chance: *sighs with relief* It's nice to be off my feet for a little bit.


Dir: *scrutinizes Chance*: Your hair is very... red... today. Redder than usual, anyway. Most of the time there's a little more blonde in there...


Chance: What are you talking about?


Dir: Oh! Sorry, never mind. *clears throat* Um, now Chance, I wanted to know if you could answer a few questions for the people here. You know, about your life and stuff like that.


Chance:*glances at audience* They know me?


Dir: Yes, Chance. You're the main character in my book, RCK (abbrev.). Remember?


Chance: *rubs side of head* Oh, yes, I think I remember something about that.


Dir: Oh hey, yeah there's a...bandage... on your head. Are you okay?


Chance: Dir, don't you remember? Manus just beat me up.


Dir: Oh... right. Sorry about that. 


Chance: *shrugs* I asked for it. Hey, is he going to leave me alone now or what?


Dir: *evasively* Well, if you're asking whether he's going to pummel you to a pulp in front of the other squires again, then no.


Chance: *rolls eyes* He's going to do something, though, isn't he?


Dir: Ask Gareth. He knows, ah *coughs* will know, soon enough.


Chance: *pulls out cellphone* What's Gareth's number? I'll ask him.


Dir: *eyes pop out* That's MY phone! Wait, my phone doesn't have text...


Chance: It does now. I grabbed it before I came over here.


Dir: How did you find it?


Chance: I'm just good at that.

Dir: *looks dubious* If you say so, Chance. Oh, by the way, Happy Birthday.


Chance: My birthday was, like, four months ago.


Dir: Happy. Belated. Birthday. How's it feel being sixteen?


Chance: *looks confused* Well, it's one more year closer to knighthood. That is, if Sir Robert...


Dir: Don't get into all that, you'll lose the audience. Let's talk about something else.


Chance: Like what?


Dir: Your call. Ask me something, if you want.


Chance: *glares* Why do I keep having nightmares?


Dir: They're important to the story, man.


Chance: But Sir Robert gets cranky in the morning because I accidentally wake him up by my screaming. Those dreams are FrEaKy, let me tell you!


Dir: *perks up* Did you say Sir Robert gets cranky?


Chance: Yeah, what's the big d--


Dir: Oh, Chance, you're brilliant! Of course he'd be cranky! 


Chance: Uh, oh. *glances around room* Hey, is that a camera?!


Audience Member: Chance, how do you cope with all of the crazy things that have happened to you?


Chance: *looks suspicious* Like what?


Audience Member: For instance, having your father and best friend killed in the same week.


Chance: *frowns* That's private stuff. I'll discuss something a little less personal, if you don't mind.


Dir: *snorts* Chance, everything that happens to you is personal.


Chance: Getting beat up wasn't personal.


Dir: *scowls* Okay, you win. But that's the one thing that's non-personal. It gets personal, though.


Chance: *glares* I thought that was a done deal!


Dir: No, you're supposed to be worried.


Chance: You WANT me to worry?!


Dir: Never mind. 


Chance: Hey, why is it that there have been two people in my life now that have punched me the first time we meet?


Dir: *coughs* Violent love. Actually, you and Manus met almost a week before you two fought. You know, I understand you think that the rest of your life is going to be un-interesting and you can just settle down, become a knight, and move on with your life, but you forget that there's that dragon, and besides, why would I be writing about you if your life was going to be easy? Look at it this way... um, Chance?


*MC glances at watch*


Chance: The 7:00 bus should be here now. 


Dir: How on earth did you get a watch?


Chance: Rafe and Vance taught me how to steal. 


Dir: But you had a job as a baker's--


Chance: That was only half the time. 


Dir: *frowns in thought* Really?


*Chance is already heading out the door*


*door slams shut*


Dir: *to backstage people* What's so urgent that he needed to catch the bus?


Backstage people: *shrugs*




Well, I guess Chance had his own timetable today. *shrugs* Maybe I'll get a longer time blocked out for the next interview... :)


Hey good news! I know the blog has been more "Quills" than "Castles" or "Cameras" lately, but now that NaNo's practically over, I'll be able to get into the Movies and the Randomness a little more. So keep your eyes open for that stuff!

Random pictures:




My dashboard on my laptop is all ready for Christmas! :D
 See all those pretty lights?






Ha ha! TWiX!!!!
(fun size...)


I Can't Jump Up and Down And Cheer Because Everyone Else Is Asleep, but....

I CAN SO JUMP UP AND DOWN AND CHEER ON THE BLOGOSPHERE!!!!!  HEY AUDREY DID I RHYME???? BONUS POINTS!!!!!!






Endurance and Victory! Never alone! Eulaliaaaa!! For Narnia! For Aslan!! For the Galactic Republic! May the Force Be With You!! Now for wrath, now for ruin! And for the red dawn! 
For Frodo! .... Frodo?

*shrugs and does a victory dance*



Yep you guessed it:





I HIT 50K JUST NOW!!!!


Note: I did NOT say I'm finished, Rather, I have a feeling I'll have to hit at least 150k to be done with the story, but anyway....

This looks so lovely, don't you think?


I think the little fun-size Twix bar I'm savoring right now was well worth the wait :)

I know I'm so lame right? It's fun-size! Like, the size of your fingernail! *shrugs and happily eats Twix* Whatever!


Hee hee, I just love purple!




My deepest, sincerest thanks to those of you who know me in real life...

I'm back now.

Yes, dear, I'm talking to you. We can have a deep conversation next time you come over if you'd like. :)

So, a BIG thank you to my mom, my dad, my brother and sister, the ferret (just 'cause you're so cute!), Everyone's Favorite Composer, Joryn, Steph, Kaela, the wonderful librarians, raggmopp and Lucretia.Ravetti.

And to those of you here in Bloggyland... Jake, Squeaks, SotK, I could go on and on.... your comments and PMs on NaNo were so encouraging! Big hugs to everyone!


Last but certainly the greatest, though, I need to publicly thank the Lord for helping me finish. 

In case I never mentioned it, it was God who gave me the story in the first place, and it was He who enabled me to reach this word count. 

I'm not done yet, but I can't wait to find out what else He has for me here, and to be honest, I can't wait to learn more about Him through this. 

I mean, shoot, when you're forced onto your knees begging Jesus for help, you certainly get a little more intimate with Him! Hee hee, I love you Jesus!

Look at my WordDoc:



See those beautiful numbers?? LOVE!

Sorry, I can't seem to get over it. 

Those of you who haven't yet hit 50K... you can do it! Really! But even if you don't make it in time---we'll all still love you!


In honor of reaching the end of NaNoWriMo, I thought I'd do two things. 1) post *another* excerpt and 2) on my next post, have a character interview, since everybody else has one :P

*fanfare fades*


I know a lot of you read my first excerpt, and so the big question has been, 

What's in the box??


Well, you're about to find out!

If you haven't read my very first excerpt, I suggest clicking here and reading it before continuing. 

Okay, people, feeeeeell the tension!! Haha :P

*grabs another Twix bar. yes, it's fun-sized.*

*note: this excerpt is unedited*
** PS am I abusing the "*"? **


   Questions pummeled his mind like hailstones. This was not an object that any poor blacksmith would own. Why, then, was it in his father’s possession? And why would he not display such a marvelous and beautiful thing out in the open? Why hide it? Whose was it? What was inside it?
   That sudden thought struck Chance harder than the others: Whatever was inside of it?
   Curiosity overcame any premonitions. Cautiously, almost reverently, he pulled the box out into the open. Then he ran to the wall and snatched up the lantern. Holding it up with one hand, he eased himself to his knees again before the case. Chance undid the hinge that held it closed. It gave a whisper of a squeak, but even that made him jump. He put his hand to open it, and found himself glancing over his shoulder at the door. It was open, but from within the house he saw no movement and heard no sound. The world was holding it’s breath, it seemed, and Chance realized he was, too. Slowly, ever so slowly, he let it out as he slowly, ever so slowly, eased the lid of the box upwards.
   Chance didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what he saw. This first thing to meet his eye was a bold, red crosse on a white background… a shield? A shield? Chance frowned, his eyebrow arched. What lay below the shield was even more interesting. The light of the lantern bounced off a-- a suit of armor!
   The blacksmith’s eye in Chance noticed the quality of the metal first. He had never seen such fine steel! Then, the part of him that dreamed suppressed the blacksmith. Chance’s breath caught as continued the gaze down at the shield and armor.
   This was the stuff of knighthood!
   Hearth thumping wildly, he thrust out his hand, to touch the shield, then the armor, as if it might disappear before he could. The shield was smooth, and felt like metal. Chance studied the plain emblem with wonder.
   And the armor—oh, the armor! Nothing had felt more glorious to Chance. The steel was cold and dented in many places. He let his hand drop, and felt something sharp cut into his palm. “Ah!” he squeaked, examining his hand. Good-the cut went slightly deeper than the skin, but it would heal quickly. What had cut him? Chance peered down into the box, and saw a sword, the blade snapped in two; the break was jagged. Why a useless sword?
   Well1 Chance was dumbstruck. A knight’s complete equipage—in the shop for who knew how long—and Chance had had no idea!
   But as the wonder faded, suspicion took its place. In the morning he would have to bring up the matter with his father. There were questions in need of answers.
   Chance closed the box, reluctantly, and replaced all the crates and boxes and barrels, after which he blew out the lanterns and went into the house.
   The fire was burning very low, but Chance didn’t bother with feeding it. He noticed his father had at sometime moved from the table and was now stretched out on his bed, in a deep sleep, his apron and boots on and everything.
   His throbbing hand stopped him from tumbling straight into bed. He found some cloth and bound his hand up. It was still bleeding, a little, but not enough to hinder work tomorrow.
   Falling onto his bed, Chance kicked off his boots and wrapped his blanket around his shoulders. He felt his body relax with the hay-filled mattress beneath him.
   In the instant before he fell asleep, two thoughts hit him simultaneously: he had never found the coin again, and that the scratched-out name on top the box was William. Sir William.



*Giggles* I had to leave you hanging, again, yes, I know. But hey, now you guys know the big secret. Kinda spoils it now, don't it? Actually, looking at my story as a whole, it was pretty predictable. But not with you people... sorry, I'm rambling. woW.

Well, it feels great to finally be in the winner's circle. But the completed novel circle, ah, that is still to come.

The journey continues.....


Oh hey Mom? For dinner can we have piZZa???? And watch a movie, maybe? I'll do all my overdue schoolwork.... :D

piZZa!!!






Don't know why I had to post multiple pictures, but whatever. PIZZA!!


*PS my weird obsession with pizza is a recently discovered disease, and doctors are still unable to explain it*

PPS I'm listening to a rockin' song by Lecrae called "God Is Enough" oh man, it's SO AWESOME!!

Now I got my eyes on you and now I know that God is enough-nough, God is enough-nough, God is enough-nough, You are enough-nough...  *dances to awesome song*

Hee hee... have a great day everybody!!


*reaches for another fun-sized Twix.*


Monday, November 29, 2010

The Nano'd version of "I'm a Litte Teapot"



I'm a little Writer, who's quite freaked out!


Here is my coffee,


here is my Count.


When my hands are warmed up, hear me shout:


I MUST CONQUER NANO BEFORE I BURN OUT!!


:)


There. My procrastination for the day. It was a totally random rhyme that just came to my head 30 seconds ago, too. Okay, gotta go now.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Rambling Recap: Thanksgiving

My daddy made his awesome-fanstatic pancakes for breakfast yesterday. They were really good. And I was very thankful for them. But it gets better...

My little sister (who's really only 20 months younger than me, and in fact she's taller!) Charlotte, went to the 'fridge to grab the syrup. Now, we have two identical bottles containing brown, sticky liquid in our refrigerator. One one of them has syrup in it.
So Charlotte goes and pours brown, sticky liquid over her pancakes. And after the pancakes were all slathered with the brown, sticky substance, she groaned/laughed very loudly, and the rest of my family were like, "What??"

"I just put teriyaki sauce on my pancakes!!"

I hand't seen her laugh so hard for awhile. Oh. Man. It was hilarious. She even tried eating one. Of course, that wasn't too succesful because she was laughing so hard.


*Spoiler Alert!!!**Do not read on if you do not want to know spoilers about my Nano story**Spoiler Alert!!!*

I've written two scenes/sequences that have totally broken my heart and left me "depressed," in a writer's sense of the word. I hope you know what I mean. You know, when you're so wrapped up in the story and your characters' feelings that you experience the same emotions as them. I was having a bad case of "writer depression" maybe two days ago... here's why: I killed my main character's dad. And after that, my MC went to his grandfather's castle since he had no other family, and he was turned away for reasons I may divulge later, but for now just know that it wasn't my MC's fault. And I was so sad for him because it was so tragic, I was moping for him the rest of the day. *sniffs*

**Spoilers Over****Spoilers Over****Spoilers Over****Spoilers Over****Spoilers Over****Spoilers Over**


Okay, Thanksgiving was really awesome. We went over to the Ka. family's house around 3, and we were there for a verrrry long time. And we won back the Spoon!!!

*blank looks from y'all*

What spoon?


Oh? Ye all don't know about The Spoon?? Ah, allow me to preface with a brief history...



This is the Kl. family and my family. Well, this picture only shows the kids, not the parents. But anyway... we know them because we use the same homeschool curriculum.

They lived at our house for almost 2 weeks because they were moving from Hawaii to Alaska, and we are right in between those two places. It was two whole weeks of playtime. Of awesomeness.

My sister taught everyone to play Spoons. We played a lot, but it wasn't a big deal.

Then came this night:


You are now looking at my family, the Ka. fam, and the Kl. fam.



...playing an epic game of Spoons. Well, at this moment that the picture shows, we're preparing 
to start another epic game, but the general idea is that we're playing. (wHaT??)


We had played one or two practice rounds, and then two or three Elimination rounds. You could literally feel the tension in the room, once elimination started. Oh. my. goodness. And we were so loud at the end of each game (aka the insane battle to grab a spoon) that when my mom took a quick walk around the block, she could hear us four houses away, on the other side of the block. The windows were wide open, but still. We were loud. It was awesome.

The prize? The Golden Spoon; a plastic spoon that was partially covered in gold leaf. (Yes, real gold leaf!!)

Whichever family won would take it home. 

Ka. family won it, and thankfully they only live 30min away. 

But we've been wanting to visit Kl. family in Alaska, but before we could go we had to win back the Golden Spoon so that the Spoon Championships could continue in Alaska.

So last night, my family and the Ka. family played elimination. It was eventually between the two dads, and my dad won. *cheers*

This is my dad making a really funny face as he points to the spoon:


Hee hee :)


Then we went home very late, and then you know from my last post that I did not fall asleep until... too late. Or too early, if you think about it. Anyway...

So there's a Rambling Recap of my Thanksgiving. You guys still have your brain cells, right??


You Know You're In Crazy 4-Days-Left NaNoLand When...




It's 5:06 AM and you're writing. Part of this is due to the fact that you were at someone else's house all day for Thanksgiving, thus away from Beloved Laptop and now need some time with said Laptop; though more likely it is due to the high level of caffeine in your system. You had (possibly) 5 hours of sleep the night *cough* morning, before.













You're babysitting your sister's pet ferret, who has been lonely all day because said family were all gone at another house, and so he plays in your room and knocks over your recycling bin while you type away. Sister is fast asleep. You figure that ferret will be ready to sleep again by the time you're finished writing/playing with him.
Talk about multi-taksing??

You're planning on doing the Black Friday Wrimo Challenge: write 10k on Black Friday, because it's too dangerous to step out of the house anyway. You've never written more than 4.6k in a day, and the next part of your story is not outlined. Yike!

Every second spent NOT writing IS spent massaging your keyboard-sore hands. Ow ow ow...

You're almost wishing you had another cup of coffee, because it stimulates the writing brain cells...

You're wondering why you're blogging instead of writing. Ack! Die, procrastination!! Now is not the time for idle-daddling, not that that's even a word!!

The Word Document calls....

Bye!!

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

My Mom



"Talk about *me* on your blog. I'm *so* wonderful!"



So said my mom with a giggle last night as she sat on my bed while I blogged.

Okay, Mom. You asked for it. Hehe.. love you!

(this is my THIRD post today. woW)

Before I launch into a ballad to her awesomeness, feel the need for a preface, concerning last night's events.

My mom does podcasts. They're 4-8 minutes audio devotionals that she does every week. After everyone (except me, *cough*) is asleep, she'll go downstairs and sit on the couch with her Bible and talks into a little 2nd Gen. iPod Nano that has a recording mic. When she's done, I edit the audio track (to take out long pauses, etc.) and then she gets into Podcast Revolution and puts it up on her site, http://www.pauseandponder.org/.

*My Mom did not ask me to advertise. I like bragging about her. So there.*

The podcast that she did last night, I really loved, and wanted to share it with you. The link is right below:

A Pilgrim's Promise


And in case you were worried: no, I am not going to sing a ballad. I already did a rap song for my dad and that was the humiliating end of my musical career.

*slaps hand over mouth*

Did I just say I did a rap song?

*plugs your ears*

You did not hear any of that!

*whistles nonchalantly*

Anyway... (ellipse!) my Mom makes really good pumpkin cookies. She made some yesterday, and I've decided that it'll be Death By Pumpkin Cookies over at our house.

I've also decided my mom is a superhero. She can do pretty much everything, except weightlifting.

She edits my stories. And she's good at it, oh my goodness! I'm so freaked out whenever she reads something of mine, but she always loves my work. But she's a great editor, believe me :)

She helps me accomplish my wild schemes, like making a movie. She makes a great executive producer,  probably because she's the only one that can speak my language.

She cooks. She cleans. She teaches. She corrects. She laughs with us. She cries with us.

AND SHE MADE MY AWESOME HEADER!!

Oh. Man. There's a whole story behind my header. I might share it sometime. But scroll up, please. Look at my header for a moment. Isn't it beautiful??

My mommy made it!!

*laughs at my own ridiculousness*

Anyway, Mom-- you are fully awesome :)



Mom and my Little Brother doing school out on the back deck hammock.
Aren't they so cute??

...ellipses....

I don't know if you writers out there are like me... but I tend to use ellipses... alot.

(You get my point?)

Now, I'm not necessarily against ellipses, and in fact I let them run wild in the first draft. But once it's time to edit, you realize....too many are too many. And re-reading your work can lead to noticing a lot of..... those. A bunch of periods all strung together.

See? I'm doing a post on ellipses and what do I end up doing? Throwing in a million ellipses... unintentionally. Sheesh!


I noticed all my ellipses as I was writing in my NaNo notebook right now. Man, I used like 3.87 million in one paragraph. I'm almost convinced I write more ellipses than actual sentences. But unfortunately, they cannot all stay. Ellipses clutter up the page, and slow the reader down.

Here, (aah! My foot's asleep! argh!) check out the following snippets:

The first thing to meet his eyes was a bold red cross on a white field... a shield. A shield?


He had managed not to think of them... her... for several years.


Something wasn't right! The metal ought to be glowing much brighter of the fire was...  "Chance!" William barked.


"What's so hard about telling father I found a box? Why am I so... so nervous?"


"Good grief..." Chance thought.


"Hm hm. Yes, well... I was tidying up the shop and, um..."


"It rolled between those barrels..."


How in heaven was he going to be able say this next thing? He needed to say it...


William waited until he was gone, then he raised himself to his feet, doing his utmost not to wince and groan... unsuccessfully.


Why... why wasn't he good enough?


And they were coming to stay for a few weeks.. he couldn't look any of them in the eye now... oh, whatever was he going to do?


And these are all within about 9 pages.... yeah :P  And those aren't all of them!!!

Not that I'm on a "Ellipse Annihilation" uh.... thing. Don't get me wrong. Some ellipses, like the ones I didn't list, were very appropriate and pose absolutely no problem. For instance, Chance's dad is about to tell him a story, and so to launch it I wrote,

"When I was a newly made knight, and was still living at my father's castle..."


See? When I add chapter breaks, the next chapter will start right after this. It's a perfectly harmless ellipse.

My advice: use ellipses are rarely as you can... <--- aargh, you see that thing right there??

Apparently, I should be taking my own advice.

What I was going to say, was before you put an ellipse, check and see whether a comma, a period, a colon or a semicolon can replace it. They are great for adding depth and feeling, but not every other sentence needs that kind of...depth....and um,...feeling.

So... does that help?
 

Give thanks to the Lord of lords...

... For his lovingkindness is everlasting. Ps. 136:3





This:


This is a turkey. Turkeys have somehow become the Thanksgiving Mascot. Don't ask me how.


And this:


This... this is corn. The Pilgrims ate corn on Thanksgiving. Squanto the Indian taught them how to plant corn.

Your point, Abby?

Okay, sorry, bit of Thanksgiving randomness there. (those of you who I know are laughing out loud right now-- I can hear you :P)

Anyway...

You know, I have so much to be thankful for, and it's hard to not take everything I have for granted.

It's also hard to keep my eyes upward with so much around me.

We see it so much in the Old Testament... when there was abundance, the children of Israel forgot the Lord. They forgot who gave it to them; they began to love His blessings instead of Him.

We ought to be thankful, oh so very thankful, for the blessings God has given us. We have *a lot* to be thankful for. That fact that I can eat three meals a day is incredible. The fact that I have running water is amazing. The fact that I have a closet full of clothes is tremendous.

But besides thinking about the things we have, take a minute or two or three to thank God for who He is. He is all-powerful, He is merciful, He is gracious, He is sovereign, He is everlasting, the list goes on and on...

This Thanksgiving, be thankful for the blessings. But don't forget the God who gave them. Love Him first.

Don't forget this either: Christianity is not a religion... it's a relationship. God didn't make it to be a "checklist" of things to do. He wants it to be in constant communication with you. He wants to talk with you. He wants to be with you.

Sometimes, we try and make our walk with Jesus a checklist; sometimes we mess up. But you know what?

The Lord loves us anyway. And I'm so, so thankful.

Give thanks to the Lord of lord, for his lovingkindness is everlasting.


Right below I'm going to list some of things about God that I'm thankful for: whether it's something He has done, or who He is, or anything else about Him.

-He is gracious to me, even when I'm not.

-He's given me a wonderful family, and a roof over my head.

-He is sovereign, and He's in control.

-He's given me the hope of heaven.

-He's given me amazing sisters in Christ who encourage me and help me... on a daily basis.

-He loved me and died for me while I was still a sinner.


What about you? What's the Lord done that you can be thankful for this Thanksgiving?


Well, sorry for the rambling.... all that to say, Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

I Post For The Second Time In One Day...

Is there a problem with me? *shrug*

Thanks to Jake's Word War 3, I am currently at 32k. Wow! And that's only 6k behind schedule, which is a really good thing :)

Okay, so I've gotten some requests from people (you guys know who you are) that want more excerpts: Apparently I have to post an excerpt every 10k so.... since I hit 30k today, at the bottom of this post you will find *another* excerpt.

So... stepping away from NaNoWorld for a sec, I thought I'd liven up the place with a little 'guess that movie quote,' stolen (and slightly altered, maybe) from Miss Raquel (hope you don't mind!).

Below are 10 movie quotes. Your job is to comment and guess as many as you can. NO checking imdb.com for the answers. That's cheating. You CAN consult other people though, just give them a little credit when you comment with your answers, alright?

(PS you can ask me for hints in the comments, but they *have* to be yes or no questions.)

Ready, set. GO!!

Guess That Movie Quote, Round One


1)  "Doctor. To muse and blabber about a treasure map in front of this particular crew, demonstrates a level of ineptitude that borders on the imbecilic! And I mean that in a very caring way." 


2) "It's not impossible, I used to bulls-eye womp rats in my T-16 back home, they're not much bigger than two meters."


3) "A little late for trimming the verge, don't you think?"


4) "Adventure is out there!"


5) "I'm not a dwarf! I'm a girl! And actually I'm tallest in my class."


6) "This isn't just any race. This is the *Santa Anita.* I had that race. I was there."


7) "A credit card slip?! Dude, we're on the grid! They have your records from forever, they have *my* records from forever!"


8) "I have a bad feeling about this."


9)  "You have fought your duel. That is well. Never fight another. That is better."


10)  "do not attempt to deny that I think very highly of him - that I greatly esteem him... that I like him." 




Alright! Have fun with that-- now here's the excerpt!!



   Two hours passed. Chance sat on his bed, then stood and paced, and stopped by the window and looked out over the town, then he went back and sat down on the edge of his bed and repeated the cycle many times over. At last, he heard the noise from the common room lessen, and the moon rose higher in the sky, and Chance was wide awake. Sleep was the last thing in his mind. He wondered where Sir Fawkes had gone, and what he was doing. At last, when the room started looking smaller to him, Chance stepped out and went quietly toward the common room.
   The tavern was eerily still; but as Chance neared the common room, he heard many men's voices coming as if from behind a wall. He stepped silently into the common room, keeping to the wall, and his eyes darted all around. Orran was nowhere to be seen, nor was anyone else, for that matter. He saw a light coming from a half-opened door at the far end of the common room. There was the source of the voices, and as Chance listened to their words, he caught his breath and didn't dare let it out.
   “Has Gerald come back?" said one voice.
   “No" replied another.
   “Lord Morcant won't wait much longer," this voice sounded like Sir Fawkes's, but Chance couldn't be sure. He crept closer.
   “How many more from Sir Daw's fief?"
   “Fourteen; and they're good, too."
   There was a lull in the talk, and then a smooth, quiet voice made itself heard.
   “I'm meeting with Reid tomorrow," the remark came almost gloatingly, and at this remark the others voices all arose in a clamour.
   “He's back?"
   “I thought he was still in prison."
   “He was dead last we all knew, blast him."
   “So he's back?"
   The smooth, quiet voice spoke again. “Naturally he's back. How else would I be able to meet with him?"
   “Where's he been?"
   “You really think I know? Reid keeps his own secrets."
   Chance's heart was beating so loudly, he thought the men would hear him. This sounded like a conspiracy, or something else underhanded. But what were they talking about, exactly? He strained to hear more, but suddenly he heard the dull thud of footsteps. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw no one, but the footsteps were coming nearer. Chance's heart beat wildly. He didn’t think, and instead dashed behind Orran’s counter. He hardly dared blink now. The footsteps came nearer, until they were ringing in his ears… then they passed, and a new voice, Orran’s, joined in the conversation in the back room. Chance glanced up, and seeing no one else, ran for Sir Fawkes’s room.
   Behind him, he heard the voices quiet. “Who’s out there?” someone asked the others. Chance didn’t dare look back. He rounded the corner and breathed a little sigh of relief, but then his face was suddenly smashed into a person’s shirtfront. Chance gasped and stepped back, and the biggest, most muscular man he had ever seen stepped from the shadows. Chance turned to run, but the man reached for his sleeve, and Chance found himself held powerless in the man’s hold.
   “Who are you?” the man asked, not really interested. “Little spy, eh?”
   “No!” Chance choked out. “I’m Sir Fawkes’ squire!”
   “Sir Fawkes does not have a squire.” The man started dragging him toward the room where the men were meeting.
   “We only met this morning!” Chance dug his heels into… nothing. They merely slid across the wood floor. His heart was pounding, and he was getting worked up into a panic. What was going on? What were they going to do to him?
   He suddenly stood in the doorway of the back room. The men had fallen silent and were staring at him. Chance stopped struggling and stood there, eyes darting like a trapped animal....


I realize this must be a very confusing excerpt, as there is no introduction to anyone. Sorry. I didn't want to post an excerpt that "gave too much away" so I figured, hey, this worked, because it doesn't give any vital information away. Don't worry-- I'll see if I can get a better one *next time*.... 


Alright. I go now to do my math and bust out another 7k.... Lord willing....

I'm Back to Torment Y'all....

My mother requested another excerpt, so I guess as a 25k party, celebration, uh, thing, you will find an excerpt at the bottom of this post.

News for the day:

Word War III starts at 5:00 CST. Sharpen you ink-stained swords and prepare for battle! Yaarrgh!!

Heh heh.

It snowed! It's mostly all melted now, but there was a good dusting of snow this morning that we all got to play in.

Okay, that might not be a big deal for some of you, but I live in the Pacific NW. A single snowflake is a big deal, okay? Heh. And it stuck, too, instead of melting when it hit the ground! *Bonus Points!!*

My mom is making pumpkin cookies. The dough I licked off the spatula was great... thanks Mom!

I'm hearing the vacuum downstairs. Groundbreaking news, I know. (yeah right!)

I have to go do my math now.

I bid all ye fair people farewell... and enjoy the following excerpt! 'Tis short, but sweet. Okay, *not* sweet... just short. On second thought, it's not really all that short either. Whatever. Proceed!


**note this excerpt is unedited** **note this excerpt is unedited** **note this excerpt is unedited**



   Refugees trickled in, each with a more horrifying story than the one before. Within a matter of days, the villagers of Belham began to look furtively over their shoulders, peering at the skies suspiciously, afraid to hear what those townspeople of Channery heard; afraid to see what they saw.
   Then, one afternoon, a cry went up, and several people pointed toward the ridge of hills to the northeast of the village. There, against the blue of the sky, was a curving, sinister, winged figure. It glided toward those hills and disappeared among them.
   Mayhem broke loose in the village. Some were talking of leaving, others wanted to seek a knight to help them, still others (the misguided ones) said that if the dragon was ignored, it wouldn’t be a bother. And then there were those, like Chance and his father, who listened to all the others’ chatter, and kept their thoughts to themselves.
   Whilst the village was in an uproar, William and Chance were quietly eating their supper. Chance held his empty mug between his fingers and tilted it back and forth, glancing from it’s empty bottom to his father’s furrowed brow. “If it attacks, you’ll fight it, won’t you?”
   The question shook William out of whatever he was in. “What did you say?” he demanded, his voice harsh from surprise.
   Carefully, Chance said, “You told me that knighthood was nothing to you because there was no reason to jousts or melees. You knew you could fight even better than your brother if there was a reason for it. Isn’t a dragon reason enough?”
   Impatiently, William sighed. “I haven’t held a sword for fifteen years, you forget, Chance.”
   Chance looked at him in disbelief. “That shouldn’t stop you. Aside from the fact that you have the blood of one of the greatest knights in your veins, you are the only one here with even the slightest capability to save us. You were Sir William, father!”
Chance slapped his hands flat on the table for emphasis. “There is absolutely no doubt that that dragon is going to attack. Are you just going to stand aside and watch it destroy everything we hold dear?” Chance’s voice wavered as he thought of his dead friend. “What about Master Kieran? And Dev?”
   William stared at him. Then he stared at the fire. Then he stared at the table.
   “Alright, young sir. What about a weapon? I broke my sword, you know. I put knighthood behind me.” The last sentence had a little extra emphasis behind it.
   “You’re a blacksmith, father! Weld it!”
   “I can’t kill a dragon, Chance!”
   “Yes you can! Who are you, father?”
   William cocked his head suspiciously. “What did you say?”
   “Who are you, father?” Chance didn’t wait for a reply. “You are the son of Sir George the Dragon Slayer! You are Sir William! If that dragon has anyone to fear, it’s you.” Chance paused to take in a breath. “I don’t believe you were made into a knight, father. You were born one.”
   William glared at him. “Good God, I can’t win, can I?” Then he chuckled wryly.
   “You certainly know a good deal about knighthood, for one so young as you.”
   Chance flushed. “I only—”
   “I understand, son.” William rose from the table. “The thought was gnawing at me from the moment you told me Goodwife Eluned’s story. I was once a knight, and it appears I must be one again.” William stood up. “Come on, I’ll need you at the bellows.”
  
   They worked in the shop all through the night, and to Chance, it felt as if he had just closed his eyes when suddenly they were open again. Moaning, he sat up, his bleary eyes noting the pale, early daylight creeping in through the windows. His father was not there; but Chance supposed he was outside in the shop. Chance was already dressed, and he threw a short cloak over his tunic and jerkin and stepped out the door.
   There was a tension in the air, an anticipation. Though the villagers were going about their normal business as they were encouraged to, their faces reflected what Chance felt. Then he thought he heard a noise above the roof. He glanced up.
   Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was an earsplitting roar. It was a scream of challenge; a battle cry. The ominous beating of wings was heard overhead, and the villagers looked up. The bolder, braver ones did so willingly, while the others looked up without meaning to, and they wished that they hadn’t. The sight of the beast, gliding overhead, sent shafts of terror into every man’s heart.
   Chance gulped, and the breath left him. What a terrifying, horrible, beautiful beast.
   “Chance,” his father motioned him over. He saw that the box was open, and William was sifting through the pieces of armor.
   “You're going to have to help me get this stuff on, alright?"
   “Alright." Chance laughed, "It's time for you to be a knight, and me to be a squire, eh?"
   It was an incredibly long, arduous process, as Chance knew nothing about putting on armour, and William hadn't worn any for fifteen years, but eventually, they got it all on.
   “The greaves now, Chance.”
   Chance peered into the box. “Not here, father.”
   “What…” William thought for a second. “Oh goodness, I turned them both into knife blades awhile ago. Yes, I remember now.” He chuckled. “Yes, and there’s only one gardbrace in there. I made Thomas’ knife with that. Hm, certainly convenient.”
   Chance fastened the last available piece of armor on, and his father sucked in a breath.
   “I was thinner fifteen years ago," William groaned. Chance laughed loudly, more from nervousness than anything else. He handed William his helm, which he stowed under his arm. Then Chance handed his the shield, which bore the Red Crosse. In quiet awe, he presented it to his father.
   “Thank you, lad." William took it in one hand. Then he placed the helm on his head, and reached for his sword, which was lying on the anvil. It had no sheath.
   “Where is the dragon?" William asked. Chance ran out to the street, scanning the skies.
   “It's circling over our heads," he called back. It's east of us right now.”
   William headed for the back door of the shop. On impulse, Chance ran up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Father? I... I love you."
   William smiled a tight, wry smile, his eyes returning the words. Then he lowered his helm and strode out. Chance ran around to the back of the house. His father was striding onto the wide field beside the village. At that moment, Chance wished his father had a horse. A knight riding a horse was much more... heroic... than one awkwardly staggering out onto the battlefield. And his father was quite the sight, what with no armor on his lower legs, and a piece of armor missing from his right shoulder, he looked a patched-up version of a knight. And yet, Chance saw a noble beauty shining through his father’s curious appearance, and his heart swelled for him.
   The dragon saw William's raised sword and answered the challenge with a hideous, shrieking roar. Chance's ears ached. He heard the whispered words of the villagers gathered behind him.
   “Who is that knight?"
   “His shield has the emblem of Sir George!"
   “It's Sir George?"
   “Gor, I dunno! Maybe.”
   “He's going to kill the dragon, ain't he?"
   Chance felt someone nudge his back. Looking up, he saw Thomas' grizzled face. “Where's your father, boy? Too scared of that dragon to come and watch?"
   The lad felt utter contempt for the tanner at that moment. He scowled fiercely. “That's my father out there, you weedy, half-faced…!” Chance kept himself from continuing the insult, but barely. “He's out there saving you! Not like you deserve it..."
   Thomas gripped his shirt and spun him around. “You don’t talk like that to me, boy.” His voice was dangerous. Chance glared hot-headedly at him, neither speaking. Then Thomas released his hold.
   “Ack,” Thomas scowled at him and stalked away. Chance gave Thomas’ back one more withering look and turned to watch his father and the dragon.
   The dragon swooped down to earth, menacingly silent. The dragon and knight circled each other. Slowly. Warily. The dragon hissed and let out a little spurt of fire. Sir William raised his shield a little.
   Then, the dragon roared a deafening roar, and lunged for his adversary, spewing fire...




To be continued.... muah ha ha....

Monday, November 22, 2010

The HSBA Winners Announced....

and it's not me. But the gal who won totally deserved it.

Give it up for God's Daughter please, ladies and gentleman!

It was neat to be nominated and everything, and I had a good time. (Not that I actually did anything, but whatever :P) For those of you who voted, thanks so much!

Congrats Miss Raquel!

Reaching the Halfway Point...

Wrimos....

I've discovered the rumor is true....

Week 3 is really better than Week 2!!

*ridiculous grin*

Yup. Being waaay behind since Day 2, I must say, I've really surprised myself.

Current word count: 23382 words.

I'm almost to 25k!

Now, I realize that there are only 9 days left to write. But a veteran Wrimo once told me that you don't have a right to freak out unless you're still really behind and it's 11pm on November 30th.

So... I'm not freaking out.

I'm actually really, really excited. Oh, of course I'm behind, but I'm recklessly putting much faith in my ability to finish things ridiculously down to the wire. Speaking of which, I just might post a few stories of, ahem, down-to-the-wire-sucess later.

I can't wait for WW3 tomorrow *grin*

Alright, so this is just me procrastinating blabbering when I should be writing.

I had an argument with my MC yesterday.... it was insane!

So, the conversation went like this:


Chance: You can't write this scene yet.
Me: Yes, I really can, so come on.
Chance: Before I go to the castle and get yelled at, you have to finish talking about how my clothes got all torn and muddy. 15 pages before, remember?
Me: Yeah yeah, I'll do that later. Get walking.
Chance: *crosses arms* Nope. Not cooperating.
Me: *stares at computer screen, fingers unable to move* Chance! Stop it! Come on, dude.
Chance: I'm not moving until you write about my clothes.
Several moments pass and I try and start the scene I wanted to do. No success.
Me: Aaargh! CHANCE!!!
*grumbles and scrolls up and obeys MC*

Was I a wimp?

The neat thing is, though, once your characters start talking to you, you inadvertently learn something new about them. For instance, I learned from the conversation above that Chance really can get bossy, and he's not always as compliant as I thought he was. *snort*

How's your writing going? Anybody else had a neat writing adventure lately? Anybody fallen into a terrible pit, be it a procrastination one or otherwise?

Oh hey, and in case you are needing something to get you even further on your word count: Write or Die is really rockin'. I use the online free version, but I really want to buy the Desktop version. It's only $10, too!

So, off I go to try and conquer NaNo for the day... *raises sword* "Chaaaaaarge!!"

Friday, November 19, 2010

The 10K Excerpt

Alrighty, lovely people! I hit 13K last night, yippie!

Yes, yes, I realize I'm behind schedule. But that shall not be a true statement for long, I tell you!

I'm so breathless, just watching my story unfold beneath my pen... it's so wow.

I think that's an original saying of mine: It's so wow.

Ha. I love it.

Okay, can I tell you how much I love Britt Nicole? Listening to "The Lost Get Found" right now, and then "Walk On Water" is coming up next *big smile.*

Abby, that's real nice, but can we just read the excerpt?

I think I made my molar loose yesterday... some food got caught in my braces and I think my attempts to get it out made my tooth loose. Whoops.

Anyway, I'm sure you didn't come over here to hear me blabber about my day.

Yeah, we really didn't. When are you going to get to that excerpt?

Well, even though I'm sure you didn't want to hear about my school life either, I have a math test and a science test to take. Whoopie?

Abby!

Okay okay, here it is:

Actually, hold on.

**groaning**


Yeah yeah, I know, just chill for a sec, okay? Thanks. Um... I was debating whether to have this excerpt continue where the last one left off, but I don't think I want to be nice to you guys. This excerpt is many many pages after the last one. So, I'm sorry, you don't get to find out what was in the box. Not yet, anyway. Possibly after November is over...

*laughs evilly at your distress*

All you need to know: Chance's best friend's name is Devin, Dev for short. Dev's little sister was really sick, so the family had left for the nearest town in search of a doctor.

Okay, here you go:



   Now, a week had passed since Devin and his family had left for the town, and their house was still empty and silent. Thus, it was a slightly troubled Chance that sat at the riverbank that afternoon to watch the other lads play. Whatever could have happened? He fervently hoped that nothing bad had befallen poor sick, little Lindsey.
   Then it happened.
   Every morning before work, Chance would grab a crust of bread or an apple or the like to break his fast, and while nibbling on it he would go down to the river and climb the old oak. For maybe half of an hour, sometimes more, he would sit in the highest branches he could, and watch the sun rise up and join him.
   This particular morning, Chance noticed a funny feeling in his stomach as he headed out of the door.
   “Hello!” he muttered to himself. “I’m not sick, so what is the problem here?” But it lessened as he continued walking, so presently he forgot about it. He clambered nimbly up the oak and upon reaching his favourite branch, leaned his head back against the trunk and closed his eyes, listening to the stillness.
   But though that was what he was expecting to hear, stillness was not what he ended up hearing. It was a distant sound, riding on a breeze from the east, A horrifying, terrible roar. A faint battle cry. Chance felt the trunk of the tree vibrate, and even the leaves rattled. His pulse quickened. Chance knew not what it was nor who, or what, was making it, but he was certain that the voice belonged to a great being. Through the branches and leaves, he peered eastward, from where he supposed the sound came from.
   Then he saw, marring the light of shining jewel rising above the earth, smoke; a large smudge not even far enough to be on the horizon. He heard the great cry again, louder, and the old oak actually shook. Frightened by the strange occurrence, Chance swung quickly down through the branches until he was safely on the ground. He did not see the smoke now, and whatever had made the terrible Noise was silent now.
   Chance ran home.
  William was already working when Chance arrived. “Have you heard any queer noises this morning?" he asked, running into the shop.
   His father gave him an amused look, “Good morning to you too. No, can't say I have. Why?"
   Chance glanced out the small window facing east. “There were some strange roaring noises coming from the east. What with all the stories you've told me, I'd say it was a dragon!”
   Chance didn’t mean it, but at his words William ceased his work and stared at him soberly. “That is not the type of creature to joke about, Chance, and you would do well to remember that. Did it really sound like a dragon?"
   Surprised, Chance shrugged. “I've never heard one for certain, Father. It just sounded... fearsome. And big."
   Brow furrowed, William fell into deep thought and resumed his work.
   That afternoon, Chance heard a hubbub of voices and looked out to see a cart, surrounded by the villagers, roll past the open shop door. He recognized the donkey pulling the cart as belonging to the carpenter, Devin's father. So they were back!
   “Father, that was Master Kieran’s cart that just passed. May I go and say hello to Devin?"
   “Don't take too long."
   Chance ran after the cart with a smile of thanks to his father.
   It was a shocking sight that met his eyes. He saw the cart was stopped in front of the carpenter's home, and the villagers were swarming around. From what he could see, it was terribly damaged, and the wood on one side looked fairly scorched. Heart thumping, Chance realised that there were only two figures in the cart. Walking slowly, each footstep heavy with dread, Chance neared the cart. There was Devin's mother, Eluned, stepping down onto the ground, and she had one of the children in her arms. Young Mark, asleep.
   Where were the others?
   Apparently, someone else was wondering the same thing, because a voice called out, “Where is your family, Eluned?”
   Goodwife Eluned turned weary eyes to the onlookers. “Dead.” The word as so soft that Chance almost didn’t catch it.
   The color drained from his face. Did Eluned just say they were dead?”
   “What happened, Goodwife?” someone else asked.
   Eluned shook her head and hurried into her home, closing the door firmly behind her. The villagers immediately broke out in a flurry of speculation.
   But Chance stood there, not moving, staring blankly at the closed door. He stood there for a long time. When at last the villagers had dispersed and gone back to their business, Chance shook himself, then stepped up to that closed door and timidly knocked. It seemed like an eternity before he heard footsteps approaching from the other side, then the door opened a crack, and Eluned’s face peered out.
   “Oh, Chance, come in. Please.” The lad saw that she had been weeping. Tentatively, he stepped over the threshold. He noted little Mark lying on one of the cots—the larger one, probably for all the children to sleep together in. Now, it seemed sadly empty and desolate with only one child in it.
   Chance looked into Goodwife Eluned’s eyes, trying to judge whether it was safe for him to ask or not.
   “Are they really gone, Goodwife?” he finally asked, in a quiet voice. Poor Eluned started to cry again. She turned her face away, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, tears streaming from her eyes. Chance stood there awkwardly, berating himself. Apparently he had very poor judgment.
   Goodwife Eluned struggled to control herself. After a moment she drew in a long breath and nodded sadly in answer to his question. “All of them. My Kieran, Devin, Lenna, Lindsey….” She wrung her hands, “My little Lindsey died last night in her sleep, poor girl. The doctor tried the whole week to cure her…” Two large tears rolled down her face. “We were preparing to ride home, to bury her and all, this morning, but then, then it—”
   “What happened?” Chance asked gently.
   “Oh, it was horrible! Oh, Chance--!” Eluned broke down once more, and to Chance’s great discomfort, she buried her head in his shoulder. Awkwardly, he patted her back. How strange it was! This woman who had been like a mother to him his whole life, to now cling to him like a child in need of comfort.
   “We h-h-heard rumors from th-the moment we ar-r-rived,” Eluned gasped out between sobs. “W-we sh-should have left earlier, b-before it came.”
   “What came?”
   “A d-d-dragon! It attacked the town in the morning. It was t-t-terrible, Chance! Kieran and Devin joined the men trying to fight it… Lenna died before that. The cart was knocked over, and she was beneath it when it fell. Channery burned, burned to the ground. I found their bodies… Kieran and Dev… we buried them there, Lindsey too. Oh, my poor children!”
   Eluned finally sat down, and wept into her hands. Chance felt hot tears sliding down his face. That morning, when he heard the noise and saw the smoke… Dev had died.
   “There’ll be others that will come here… there were others that survived and fled, before the dragon could come back.”
   “It was not killed?”
   “Good lord, no indeed, Chance. There was no knight at Channery to come to our rescue; only the townsmen. But it flew away when it was finished killing, and there’s no telling where it will strike next. It loved the destruction and the death, good lord, it did!” She wept a little longer, but quieter, now.
   “I’m sorry, Goodwife.” Chance said, and he meant it.
   Eluned looked into his eyes. “Thank you, Chance.” And she meant it, too.
   There was a little moan from the cot where Mark lay, and Eluned went over to tend to him. At the same time there was a knock at the door, and Chance went to answer it. There stood Goodwife Sarah, her concerned eyes peering past Chance. “Eluned? It’s me, Sarah.”
   “Oh, Sarah.” Eluned held Mark so his head rested on her shoulder, and she came to the door and motioned for Sarah to come in. Chance stepped aside to let her pass, and then he left them, closing the door softly behind him. Goodness, he had to tell father now....


Alright. I do hope this one wasn't as cliff-hanger-y as the last one. You know, I hate to make you suffer.

*rolls eyes*

Well anyway, I've gotta go write while I'm still pumped. 

Write on, Wrimos! We can conquer NaNo!