Anyway, on to the show: HOW I WRITE!!!!

And the lesson for today is *slide drops down and I read off of it* How To Get Kitten To Stop Talking. Oh wait, no, wrong slide. Heh heh. One sec, I’ll fix it *runs off behind screen. You hear lots of banging and shouting. I finally come back out.* Heh heh, that should do it. *Slide is replaced, and I read to the proper show title.*

Anyway, what I’m going talk about today is where I start off with my stories — the inspiration, I guess you’d call it.

Normally I start off by my mind wandering off and running into a scene. The scene could be anywhere from the story: the beginning, the climax, anywhere in between, and (though this one is probably the rarest) the very end, when everything’s cooling off. Other times, it’s a character that my mind meets, someone who intrigues me, perhaps they have a sad and dark background, or are under-adventurous, or overly so, or anything.

Either way, if it’s something that draws me in, I’ll bring it back to the real world with me, or at least remember where it lives. Then as time goes on, I’ll come up with a story for this scene or character, something that will allow me to use this new friend.

That done, I start writing. Whether I start with my scene or not, I start writing, and the story supposedly becomes the new home for that scene or character. Well, assuming it keeps me intrigued enough that another one doesn’t come and barge in and make me want to write its story instead… Heh heh.

Well, that was a very… interesting edition. But like I said, this isn’t a serious writing tutorial, because of two things:

• There’s way too many out there already. I don’t really need to make one, I’m just doing it for fun.
• And also, you have to find your own style of writing. I can only give you tips, and like I said, I’m mostly doing this for fun.

Now, for an example of what I mean by this lesson:

In my NaNo story, the inspiration for it came from a scene, in which… well, it was an interesting scene that made me want to know how those characters got there, and where they were going. So I set to work. I haven’t actually gotten to that scene yet, and by the time I do, it will probably have changed, but that’s where it started.

Anyway, completely off topic that. Let’s see if I can’t update you on some stuff. The day before yesterday was Halloween, CANDY. But I couldn’t eat some of the things I got because I have braces, that I got in like, September, and don’t think I’ve told you about yet. Hmm. But I traded that stuff away, because I was with Builder‘s family, and a couple of their friends, and people. And then I got to thinking, if I sold all the candy that I got for even just a penny, I’d be making a profit, cool huh?

Yeah, sooooooooooo. And yesterday started November, and NANOWRIMO!!! *lights flashing and opera singing*. Yeah, but right now my word count is nil, like I told you before, because I was at a friend’s house until around 2, and when we got home I fell asleep until around suppertime, and then we watched a movie. And all of this means I should really be working on my novel, but instead I’m writing this. That just goes to show how much I care about you guys, right? Or at least it shows what a procrastinator I am. Heh.

Anyway, on the subject of Nano, I might be adding some text in my sidebar that shows where I stand in comparison with my goal. So, right now it would look like this:

Nano goal: 15,000

Word count: 00,000

, I’d probably update it weekly or so. Maybe. You’re probably thinking I must be pretty confident to be so sure of everything and to hardly ever have any phrases like ‘maybe’ or ‘if I ever get around to it’ *that last sentence must be read with playful sarcasms, if you have any idea what I mean by that*.

Also, me and Gecko have started a new way for you to get content from us. But I’m not going say anything more, so watch Coll. Rand. for more details coming soon… maybe, sorta. Anyway, if we ever decide to announce it, you’ll hear it there first. Hmm, yay for teasers! Not really. Anyway, I guess I’ll talk to you later. Buh bye!

ireached100postsnanowrimoisawesomefaskfoanofinhoihweiojfowiqnjfonfioewnklgneqgknleknqglekqnflrknfklenqflknqelfnerlkfnerklnflkenwflefnvlknewglkenfgklnewlgnlekwnglfnwglknqwovgdaslfdaklfjldskahfladsnklfndakvnadkvhiknavlkr8tiy2305yu120odasjfirhqfj43hj8defkerq;oqifqo;fhqiefhrqneodifjqe.

Joking, I’m not going to rush through it that much. Anyway, so this is my hundredth post. Awesome, huh? Yeah, I feel so…. so…. okay, I got nothing. But I have some cool stuff planned out, sorta. Hundredth = 100th = uhm… I don’t know how else to write it, so useless random point over. Anyway, here’s what’ll (probably) be coming up soon:

Well, it’s November, and most people, at least those who have been reading my blog since around this time last year, can guess at what that means. Besides thanksgiving. FOOOOOOOD. , no, I’m talking about *drumroll*:

NANOWRIMO

Uhm, yeah. So it’s coming up. Check it out if you like writing. It has a young writer’s program (ywp) here, and one for adults here. For the ywp you can adjust your word count, but for the adults your goal has to be 50,000 words. But yeah, it’s a whole month of rushed, non-edited writing in a race for your word count goal, and it’s loads of fun if you like writing — just don’t push yourself too hard. I myself am going for about 15,000 words. (I may tack on a bit, depends on how well it goes.) That’s what I did last year, and the year before that I did 10,000.

On the subject of that, I may be (depending on whether I get around to it ) doing a sort of “writing tips” series, ’cause, you know, there’s not enough writing tips and stuff out there already *sarcasm a bit*. But no, it’s not really a writing tips thing, it’s more of me showing you how I get an idea for a book. I’ll be using my Nano book for an example.

So yeah, that’s my new thing for now that I have 100 (100+ soon) posts. Hope you enjoy it. Like I said, it’ll be more like me showing you how I put together a book. Hopefully you can understand it…. And also on the subject of new stuff in…. not sure “celebration” is quite the word I’m looking for, but I don’t know what else to call it…. celebration of having a 100+ posts:

Do you like? I made it myself :3 (note, the words in the background are mostly supposed to look cool; you don't have to bother reading them)

Now the other month or so (XD yeah, a while back), I was chatting with Dancer Girl, I forget what about, and she accidentally typed “duneon” instead of whatever she meant to type. We both agreed that it sounded like the name of something an Eevee would evolve into (an Eeveelution).

For whatever reason, I decided right then and there that I wanted to create a Duneon. So here it is (yes, I know it’s not shaded, and that it would looked five times better if it was shaded, but I didn’t feel like shading it, and I think it came out pretty good for being done on a computer (even with a tablet) and not being shaded):

Duneon: The Diamond Skinned Pokémon. . . <333 XD

So yeah, Duneon is a rock type… the blue stuff is like diamond, but it glows blue… and uh… I’m not sure what causes an Eevee to evolve into a Duneon. Maybe I’ll do more on Duneons later. I just kinda wanted to get this up.

Pierre cast Tawney a glare, grumbled “I’ll wait outside,” before stomping out and slamming the door.

Tia, the mother of the family, sighed. “I wish he was more of a forgiving boy, but he seems to have built the villagers up in his mind to be some sort of monster. He understands them less than they understand us. Well, go now, dear, and be careful. It may just be a twist, but tripping over it won’t make it heal any faster.”

Tawney went out the door. She’d never heard of anyone living in the forest. However, knowing that there was made her sorry for them. Sorry for the harsher life they seemed to lead, having to do everything for themselves. In the town, if you wanted cloth, you went to the weaver. You didn’t necessarily have to make it yourself.

Before she’d started working with the weaver, Tawney’s family would always weave their own. When she’d started working, she’d earned enough to pay for the wool, and all that was left was to knit it. Before, it had been a hurried rush to get clothes out for the family before it was too late.

This here was a larger family, with nowhere to go to get what they needed. They had to make their own bread and shelter. And their father did not seem to still live. Tawney wondered if this was why Pierre disliked the villagers.

Outside, Pierre was pacing impatiently. Tawney nodded quietly to him, and he stormed off, making each step thud loudly against the ground. Tawney silently followed, her eyes on his feet.

It was maybe a ten minute walk — however, at the pace she forced Pierre to set, it took closer to twenty. When they arrived, he went off to lean against a tree, while Tawney bent over and started digging with her hands at the mud under the water.

After about five minutes of careful digging, Austen appeared through the trees running. “Pierre!” he called, “Race you.” Austen jumped into the water and splashed Pierre.

Pierre remain silent as Austen swam a lap and then splashed him again. “Ha, for once I beat you,” Austen said. Pierre’s mouth twitched downwards.

Tawney watched out of her eyes as Austen swam more laps laughing at Pierre. Then Pierre dived into the water and sent a large splash over Austen. He twisted around and said, “Fine, one race. But the villagers are out, so don’t be too loud.”

Tawney watched them as she finished gathering the herbs she was looking for. After the first race, Pierre was more willing to do the next. Austen lost repeatedly, and kept claiming each time that this time he’d beat Pierre good and honest.

Together, the two boys laughing and Tawney remaining silent as ever, they made the twenty-minute trek back to the house.

To be continued…

Monday however, there was rain. It was wonderful, of course there was some lightning, and I was outside and got wet (which is why I was tired), but oh well.

Anyway, rain came, and lately it has felt more cold than hot (yesterday I got up really early for a change, and went outside for a few minutes and it felt nice and cool. In winter it might have felt slightly warm, but after the heat we’ve been having, it felt cool.

Anyway, I’m a lot happier with the weather now. In fact if it stays like that, I think I might go take a walk tomorrow. Anyway, I need to stop rambling or I’ll get entirely off topic. Buh-bye for now! (Might write more later.)

Click image for more information on the Carnival

This time around, if you read far enough you can find the first entry of my “The Pale Warrior” series.

Tawney staggered around to look at the new people. There was a tall boy, a bit older than her, who held the sharp stick. Beside him stood the boy whom Tawney had seen before. As Tawney watched, a girl stepped out and gasped.

“Pierre, look at her. She has no weight at all, and she limps! Take her to mother now. She can do us no harm.  And Austen, go now and do your chores. Pipi needs fed and milked, and here you are goggling at a poor, hurt girl.”

The girl looked to Tawney to be around ten, yet the boys snapped to attention. The smaller boy ran like a hornet was after him. And the older boy lowered his stick, grumbling, “But she’s one of the town’s people. They’re always up to mischief.”

The girl rolled her eyes and shouted after the smaller boy, “And don’t forget to groom Bernard. He’s shedding.” Then she jabbed the older boy and stalked off.

The boy, whom Tawney presumed to be Pierre, led her into the house. A woman stood over a pot, slicing potatoes. A door across the room had just closed, and Tawney guessed that the younger girl had gone in there.

The woman turned as they came in. “Pierre, go do something constructive. Help Austin with Bernard, or see if Addy needs anything for Jane. You, dear, go sit over there. I’ll tend to you as soon as I’m done with these.”

Pierre turned and left, and Tawney sat on a bench in the corner. After around five minutes, the woman left the room and came back with a basket. She knocked on the door that the girl had gone through and called, “Addy, come help me.”

Then the woman knelt and removed Tawney’s shoe. “My, I’m afraid it might be twisted, but nothing worse than that. Nothing we can’t fix in a week or so. A cool, wet cloth alone will do wonders for it.” The girl, whom Tawney had not seen reenter the room, grabbed a cloth from the basket and went back outside.

Tawney licked her lips and then whispered, “Why did Pierre seem so defensive against me?”

The woman sighed. “Yesterday, late, one of the people from your village thought Jane was a deer, or something, and tried to shoot her. He had a blow gun and darts, you see, and one of his darts hit her. Luckily, Pierre was there to drag her away, but there was something on the darts that made her sick.”

Tawney knew immediately who it was. Ali was well known for the speed with which she could craft wood. She was a genius at making furniture, wooden figurines, bows, and her personal specialty: dart shooters and darts.

Tawney frowned, “Oh. . . but you know, you’ve been kind to me, maybe I could help her. I think I know the remedy for the .  . . herbs he used.” Poison wasn’t the right word, and Tawney didn’t want the woman to get the wrong idea if Tawney used it.

The woman looked at her and smiled, “That would be a wonderful idea, dear. And I really am sorry for the way Pierre acted, but he hates the town’s people. He doesn’t understand. I  just hope one day he will.

“You can stay with us until you’re healed.”

To be continued…

It was mid-afternoon when she decided to settle down. She’d come upon a lightning-struck tree. She scratched below it an arrow pointing home. Then she attempted climbing.

Tawney managed to get up on the first branch of a nearby tree. Carefully she stood, throwing her arms around the tree’s truck as best she could. Then she put a hand on the next branch. She tried swinging her leg up onto the branch. Her leg caught it for a moment, then she slipped and fell.

Falling felt like it was sucking the air out of Tawney’s lungs. It made her feel weightless, but at the same time too heavy. Even if she’d wanted to cry out she couldn’t have. Then she hit the ground, and her knees buckled. Her foot rapped against the stone she’d used to boost herself up onto the first branch.

Tawney lay there a while, her breath coming in short gasps. She heard a crow somewhere, then a howl. Still she didn’t make any move except to curl into a tight ball. Tawney was never sure when or how she got to sleep.

When she woke, however, she felt like she’d been the one struck by lightning, not the tree she’d used as her marker. Tawney lay there awhile more. Then her spine prickled, and she looked around slightly.

For a few moments, she saw a boy crouched in the shadows of the trees, staring at her. Then their eyes met, and he was gone. Listening, Tawney heard the crow again, this time twice in rapid succession.

Curiosity roused, Tawney stood and limped after him, barely bothering to pick up her bag, which had landed next to her on the ground when she fell. She didn’t know what she had been planning when she went after the boy, as she’d quickly lost him, but Tawney continued still in the direction he’d gone.

She’d only been going a few minute when her breath started coming in short gasps again. Her lungs ached. Her foot, which she was afraid to look at, still felt like a dog was biting it, which hurt more than the rest of her sore body.

Tawney wasn’t sure how long she went or why she’d bother to keep going, when she saw the cottage. She thought at first it was a mirage of some sort. However, this mirage didn’t go away, not like the boy. So she pushed on.

A wolf howled right behind her. And then a sharp stick jabbed into her backside. A husky voice spoke from behind her, “You’re suppose to be dead, or close to it. Is this another one of you towns-people’s silly tricks?”

To be continued…

After she’d bathed, she put on her old winter suit and then pulled her brother’s on over it. It was loose, but she knew it would probably be warmer than hers.

After that, Tawney started working on her brother’s new suit. She needed something to do with her hands, and she was at least as good with cloth and wool as her mother. Soon she was in a rhythm — she was almost able to do this in her sleep once she got going. By the time the rest of her family stirred, she was half done with it.

“Tawney. . .  Maybe you should leave for the meeting-house before your mother wakes up,” Tawney’s father said, surprising Tawney a bit.

Tawney nodded and put away the knitting. She sighed. It was possible that after seven-thirty, when she was to set off into the woods, she would never see her family again. Her father gave her a small smile, “Just survive for as long as you can. Who knows, you may be more like your brother than you think. Now hurry, I’d hate to think what’ll happen if your Mother tries talking to you now.”

Tawny nodded and then left. She wasn’t the first one up. She saw some of the other candidates moving through the streets as well. She didn’t stop to talk to anyone, but hurried on. The morning air was cold, and by the time she got to the meeting-house, she was slightly shivery. It was looking to be a cold day, not a good sign for her.

She reached the meeting building third. The only other people there were Erik, the visitor, and the boy for age fourteen. Eric smiled and put his arm on her shoulder. “So. This is all very exciting. When I heard about a fabled forest village. . . I thought it would interesting, but nothing like this! So, how do you feel about it all?”

Tawney felt for a second like telling him she wished he’d never been born. However, she bit her tongue and said, “Well, I’m not quite sure. I really think my twin brother would have been a much better choice. However, I think I’ll do well enough. Say, how long are you planning on staying?” The part about doing well enough was a bit of a lie. But she would do well enough for her village to know she’d done her best.

Eric grinned, “I don’t know. This place is so pleasant, I might stay for a month, or for a year. See, I’d much like to learn about the forest, learn all the precious things that live in it. See, I’m not much of a merchant, and I figure my best bet is to come out with something new, fresh and exciting!”

Tawney swallowed. “Well, how are we supposed to know what the day before you leave is, if we’re not allowed to return to even the outskirts of the village for three seconds, just to check?”

Eric smiled. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure something out. I have faith you’ll come back in time to see me off.”

Tawney thought, but dared not say, Easy for you to say.

Soon the others had arrived, and Eric questioned each on their feelings. Tawney sat in a corner, not wanting to talk to others. When Arnold arrived, he laid out the choices of equipment.

Tawney got to choose first. She took the backpack that had the fish and bread. After they all made their choices, they went out onto the small stage which they’d used at the choosing. Arnold announced each one of them, and Tawney waited impatiently for her turn.

Soon she was the last on the stage. “Hem, and for age thirteen Tawney,” Arnold continued after the boy from age fourteen had left. “Accompanied by bread and fish. Though the youngest, should never be called the weakest.”

Tawney half wanted to laugh at those words. She was by far the weakest, but no one could change the words of the ceremony. So instead she smiled at the town, then walked off the stage, and started into the woods.

To be continued…