Teaser Tuesday

So, this has been both a crazy and exciting week.

It's good because amazing writing Kristin a.k.a Red.Ink.Rain has an agent and soon people will be able to read CoS someday soon.

A few days ago I decided that I needed to start writing. I've been reading and reading, and reading is good especially when you're writing but I needed to write, so I did write. But then the ceiling fell in and there's soot and dust everywhere. So, I haven't been home till today and the repairmen are still here so I didn't get a lot done.

Today's tease is from Shadow (I know right.) I need to write this story. Even though it's taking me a really long time to write it, I can not let it go.

What I want to know is would you pick this up?

Shadow

"Police say that they are calling them the 72 Princes..." the reporter said, his eyebrows furrowed. As Victoria stared at the screen, she could see yellow crime scene tape, it wrapped around a building with a sign that flickered Harold's in neon blue letters. In the light of the coming dawn, it looked like the dying embers of a blue flame. One by one, stretchers were pulled out. A white blanket covered the bodies from head to toe. Victoria didn't see not one survivor. "...they can be responsible for at least half of the crimes that are going on in the..."

There was a click and then the screen went black.

"That's enough of that." Her aunt, Josie, stood up from her chair and moved over towards the window, her arms folded across her chest. The sunlight shone in her eyes, illuminating the dark shadows beneath them.
"I was watching that," she murmured.
Josie turned to look at her and then sighed, "Your mother can still hear what's going on around her. I'm sure she wouldn't want to listen about death and gangs."
Victoria could feel her eyebrows crease. She wanted to tell her aunt that her mother was never going to wake up and that she was as good as dead, but she bit the words back, letting the bitterness they were shrouded in, poison her mood. She slumped down in her chair, pulling the thin white blanket up to her chin.

"I can ask a nurse for some more blankets."
"No, I'm fine." There was a glimmer in Josie's eyes, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she took her blanket and placed it over her sister's still body. Victoria looked at her mother now. Her skin, though a vibrant brown had an ashen pallor to it. As the fabric brushed her skin, her eyes never fluttered, her lips never parted. If it weren't for the heart monitor mapping out the steady beat of her heart, she would not have known she was alive.

"She looks so peaceful," Josie whispered, smoothing back the dark hair that fell around the pillow. Victoria turned away, her teeth penetrating the skin in her lips. She could feel the pain, but it wasn't as potent as the heat that was rising up her neck. Her mother was "resting in peace" while she lived in torment. Tears stung her irises, but they were forced back into their cages when she heard the familiar a creak. Her aunt had sat back down, a stone expression pasted on her face.

"Devon called," Josie started. "He's getting along fine at Harvard."
"That's not a surprise." It really wasn't. Devon was smart. He was brilliant. He was going to go far. She loved her cousin a lot, but she was tired of hearing about him. Her aunt's face frowned, which made Victoria feel even more sour. It was hard to look at her aunt, without feeling guilty for saying anything mean. Before her mother got into a coma, she used to be this bright, happy, care-free person. It showed in her large golden-brown eyes, that looked almost like a child's, as she stared off into space.

"No, I guess it isn't." she paused. "I'm going to go get some coffee. Do you want anything?"

"Hot chocolate, please." Josie fished around in her purse for her wallet, fixed her hair in the mirror, and left, leaving Victoria alone with her mother. She tried focusing her attention on the blank screen. Her eyes got lost in the symphony of black pixels, but even in her peripheral vision she could see the long, white outline of her mother. Turning over on her side, she tried to go back to sleep. It was of no use. The cot was uncomfortable. For one, it was too long. Her feet hung off the bottom, free to freezing temperature of the room. The arm rest poked her in the side, and the more she tossed and turned, the worse it got. So, she had to keep in a feeble position all night. Because of that, her back was now aching. She could feel the pain in her spine, it resonated to other places the longer she lay in that position.

Through the window in the door, she could see the heads of people walking by. Doctors with masks over their faces, nurses with frazzled hair, all-nighters with cup-of-coffee eyes. She stared at them, not understanding how they could do it. This was the first time she had came to visit her mother and already she felt like she was going to go crazy. The walls were white. The floors were white. The blankets and the pillows, everything was white. Like an insane asylum. She wanted to get out. She wanted to breathe in fresh air, her lungs felt like they were going to collapse. Grunting, she sat up and looked around, failing to avoid the body which was her mother. She looked so peaceful. There was not a smile or a frown or a crazed look on her face. It was a blank sheet, almost as if what happened years ago didn't happen.

Outlining and Why I Don't Do It

Outlining works for some people and I'll admit that it did get me through the first chapter. But, to me, they just seem so organized, you know, with the numbers and letters and I'm like: Writing a book is not an English assignment. There are no specific guidelines to writing one. You just have to have a plot and know where your characters are going in this plot. That said, I take notes. I make list. I write them down. I store them in my head. Screw outlines. I mean, what's the point of outlining when you know exactly what's going to happen from the beginning all the way through to the end. Okay, I don't know what's going to happen at the end, but that's the point of writing, right? Paving your own road to wherever it is your story is gonna go.

THINGS I KNOW ABOUT SHADOW

1. I have four MC's: Victoria, Brayden, Gillian, and Wesley.

2. There are Angels, Demons, Shadows, and a whole bunch of other creatures that make me want to lock my closet door at night.

3. Death is personified, and despite all the things you know about him, he's really a nice guy.

4. Victoria's cousin, Devon, is apart of a gang called The 72 Princes and they're up to no good.

5. Victoria's mother has "Alzheimer's"

6. Gabriel is sexy *

7. The Seven Deadly Sins play a part in this novel

8. Decessus is a real place *

9. Fallen Angels are way better than vampires

10. It's an urban fantasy that keeps me up at night because it is too damn scary

That is not all I know about my novel. In fact, I know so much that I could probably marry it, if that were even possible. But that's good. When writing a novel, you have to know EVERYTHING about it, or else you won't know what the heck you're doing.

* I had a dream about Shadow last night. This is not the first dream, I had about my novel. But in this one, I was actually in Decessus, which means death in Latin. And though, there are all this dark, gray, lifeless creatures there, moaning in the pitch black of the night, I wasn't scared. And that was mainly because I saw Gabriel! Who is Victoria's sexy love interest. Sorry to give the guy airs but seriously, not only is he hot but for an Angel he is so bad. 'Nough said.

Okay, time to go put on some music and write some more.

Have a wonderful day everyone!

Thursdays are for Thinking

So, I had a wonderful day. I spent my first official day off of AW, well not completely. I totally logged on when I got home, but I haven't even posted anything, so there's a step. I really need to write and after getting a day out, I feel like I can.

I've been a hermit for the past few weeks. It wasn't my fault or maybe it was because I really don't like heat but it was a really beautiful day today and I had a hair appointment. My hair is so shiny and bouncy and stuff! I love it. But anyways, today, I realized that I love my city.

I traveled to Oakland which is the college-hospital parts of Pittsburgh. I love going there because it's so inspirational. Mostly all of the Avenues are named after historical people like there's Thackeray Avenue and Tennyson Avenue. Seeing that... and... I don't know, something just hit me.

I live in a city that most people don't think about. Sure we have had movies and TV shows filmed here in the past, but really, we don't get the attention we deserve. Pittsburgh is a beautiful place.

Seeing all the college kids and the restaurants and the shops and the atmosphere made me think about the Contemporary novel I am trying to write. It originally took place in Sheridan, North Carolina (a fictional place) but now I'm starting to have second thoughts. My horizons were broadened, my eyes were opened.

I know that sounds really corny, but have you ever stopped to take a breath and smell the roses, as they say?

Try it sometimes, especially if you have Writer's Block.

In other news, I edited the hell out of Shadow. It's becoming an addiction, really. When I can't go to sleep, I find myself aimlessly nitpicking at things. And then at four in the morning, I realized I was deeply in love with it and decided that I will write it. Don't know how long this feeling's gonna last but I'll run with it.

Along for the Ride, is turning out to be a fantastic book. I love Eli! He's another fictional boy I have to add to my list of character crushes.

I saw a lot of people that resembled my characters today. It was really weird and I felt like I could just walk up to them and start talking, but if course we'd talk about plots and things but you know, they weren't really my characters...and yeah. I'm weird, I know. But as I always say, weird is the new normal. ^_^

Teaser Tuesday

So, I'm really liking where Shadow is going and I'm so glad things decided to turn out. I feel like skipping and squeeing! Okay, but I won't do it.

Her tears was lost in her first cup of beer. After the fifth or sixth (she couldn't remember) cup, her thoughts, her heart, her feelings were buried alive and she couldn't feel a thing. Some guy with a neon green Mohawk was her bartender for the night. Whenever he saw her cup was empty, he'd quietly take it and get her a refill. Honestly, she didn't know that gentlemen like that existed these days.
She was sitting on some couch in some room with some people. Her eyes were droopy and she felt like she was a little teapot, forever tipping over and over and over. People were talking around her, their voices though loud in her ears, distant and foreign. She was trapped in her own little world and the only way she could stay in it, is if she kept drinking. No wonder why people get drunk. Bringing her Styrofoam cup to her lips, she leaned her head back, expecting to take a large gulp of bitter liquid, but all she could taste was air.
"Hey..." she murmured, holding out her hand. A shadow fell over her, but it was blurry, and pixelated. She saw a flash of green, and immediately recognized the guy.
"More," she spat.
"Victoria."
Even through her drunkenness, she was familiar with that sound. The one she had heard years ago before she had silenced it forever. Her fingers started shaking, her nails digging into the cup. It felt like something was lodged in her throat for when she gulped, she couldn't breathe. She slowly looked up into eyes that were as cold as a wintry night. They were eyes that were once distant and empty, eyes she thought she'd never see again. A wry smile pulled up his lips, as he plopped down beside her.
"Don't you recognize me?"
Her mouth tasted like ashes,"Yes, yes, of course I do." I'm drunk, so drunk.
He shook his head, those familiar black curls falling around his shoulders, and reached over to lay his hand over hers. It was warm, unlike his skin when he had...died. He was supposed to be dead, not here touching her. And yet, the feel of his skin against hers felt like a million fluttering birds in her chest.
"It feels so good to see you after all this time," he said, softly.
"How can you say that?" she snapped,"I killed you."
"You sent me to He...a better place," he winced, his face becoming the image of pain. A grunt resonated in the pit of his throat and then he was smiling again. There was so many things she wanted to ask but there was only one thing she had to say.
"I'm sorry."
His smile wavered,"For what?"
"I k..." The words were lost in the tears that started streaming down her cheeks.
"Vicky, I am not mad at you. I just wanted to see you tonight," his hand gravitated towards her cheek. He started wiping away the tears, his skin soft and comforting, as she inhaled the sweet scent he emitted. She could remember the way she had kissed him, the way his hands rested on her thighs. Everything about his touch reminded her about that night."So, are you an Angel or something?"
She didn't know for sure, but she thought she heard him scoff, and for him, that sounded odd. But when she opened her eyes, he was still smiling.
"Let's go for a walk?" His hand curled around hers, as he stood up, but she didn't budge.
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" There was a glint in his eyes, and then he sighed. "Victoria, you won't hurt me, if that's what you're worried about. Now come. Walk with me." His voice was so soft that in her drunken haze, it was irresistible. She stumbled when she stood up, and his arm immediately wrapped around her waist, steadying her as they moved through the crowd. She couldn't hear the music or anything else around her. It was as if someone had pushed the mute button, leaving her to wallow in her thoughts. And her mind wasn't empty. She was submerged into a quiet stupor, with only Tommy and the thudding of her heart to keep her company.
Outside, the air was cold, not chilly cold, but it felt as if it were absent of happiness and warmth. It was somber even. They walked along the sides of the house, until they were met by a picket fence. He stood in front her, a wistful look on his face.
"I've missed you so much," he whispered.
"I've missed you, too." His hands rested on her hips, and he pulled her closer, his touch a perfect medium of firm and gentle, light and dark, for as he held her she felt the sun and it's perilous blue sky, but she always felt darkness, thick like the purplish-black night. She didn't move away, though. There wasn't an inkling of fear or regret, as his hands explored her face, her lips, her calves. He brushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes, and let his own cloudy orbs sweep slowly over her. They rested on her chest.
"You are so beautiful," he moaned. She could feel her cheeks flushing. Even in death, they were perverts. Something cold moved against her chest, and then she remembered, the necklace. Tommy was pulling it out of her dress, his fingers tracing the designs with his thumb and index finger. His eyes were closed, and as she stared at him, she saw something different about him. His skin looked old and pale, like bones eroded by time. A black shadow surrounded him, and as he breathed out, she thought, she thought she could see teeth, yellow rotten pointed teeth, like fangs but shorter and sharper. She gasped, and then he looked at her, his lips twisting up into a smirk, his eyes were no longer the cool gray she was accustomed to. They were harsh and burned a fiery red.

His eyes were just like the one's she saw in her attic.

When things start to click...

The air I breathe smells better and life makes sense! Well, life in my book, I mean. I've been addicted to editing and revising these past couple of days. And I'm only in my second chapter! But I just couldn't get over how boring and flat it was. My first chapter is great (though I did rewrite it at least eight times.) It's just that darn second chapter that I couldn't get passed. So I haven't been writing, just deleting and deleting and then...for once in a while, I got a good night's rest.

And I woke up, and everything just fell into place.

My MC is at this Halloween party and after encountering this one guy who she wants to kiss (but she can't because she'll kill him), she gets wasted for the first time and starts hearing voices. She then sees Tommy, who is the boy she killed long ago and she follows him outside. Turns out that he's a demon and...

That's all I'm saying. It gets weird after that, but I have this thing on lock down!

The 4th was surprisingly boring. Everyone I knew had to work and some of my friends are out of town. But I did watch the fireworks. Neighbors put on their own little fireworks show and it lasted until after midnight, and I was kinda pissed because it was noisy and I was really tired.

All in all, it wasn't the best 4th of July I've ever had, but it didn't suck, wish is cool.

And it's almost time to go back to school! Ugh! Hopefully 10th grade will be as easy as 9th was.

Friday Fun and Fantastic News

So, for the fantastic news, I have at least 3, 223 words in my novel! Moments after I had that breakdown, things clicked in my brain and I decided to outline! This outline has helped me so much throughout writing the first chapter, save for a few flaws here and there that I plan to fix later.

Now, for the Friday Fun. I saw this and knew that it had to go on my blog. It is crazy FUNNY!

so much to do....

Ah, I've been gone for a long time it seems! But I've been busy, so I have an excuse or two!

Schools out for me. I'll be a sophomore next year and on Sunday I'll be fifteen. So there's a lot to be excited about.

I just finished reading Frostbite by Richelle Mead. Amazing book. I did the book review for it! And if you want to check it out, you can head over to my website. Le gasp! I forgot to tell you all, well the ones who happen to be looking at this, that I have a website. It wasn't professionally done or anything but it's pretty cool.

Linkage:

for the love of my words

Look around, love it, inhale it and every once and I'll be posting book reviews. And speaking of reviews, I didn't tell you guys who the AOM for June was!

*drumroll please*

It's Cage! Yeah, he's this rapper who just recently came out with a new CD. I'll admit that I never heard of him until now but he has some major skills and he writes his own songs! Y'all know how much I love artist who are actually artist. Sometime this week, I'll post why he's my artist of the month.

In other news, I've started yet another novel, well at least I'm trying to. I've been writing a lot of short fiction pieces and...yeah, hopefully an idea will stick soon.

Well, till next time,

~Raven

I've come back bearing gifts

So, I have some great news. There's a writing contest (one that I am entering)

All you have to do is...well I'll let y'all read the rules because I'm not good at explaining things.

Linkage: http://www.harperteen.com/books/9780061470585/No_Such_Thing_as_the_Real_World/index.aspx

Ok, I have done one good deed for the day.

What has been up with me lately? Well, I've decided that I need to edit Chapter 1 now or at least while inspiration is still fresh in my mind. Plus, I think the whole Alec choking Marsa was way over the top.

I've decided to utilize my code or the prize I won for completing NaNoWriMo 2008 a.k.a Hell. The only thing good about it is that the cover is pretty and...yeah. But at least I'll get to see my name on something.

Mother's Day. Yeah, I don't know how that's gonna work out. My mom has to work but she still expects something and Sundays are my resting days...so yeah. We shall see.

the weather today is slightly sarcastic

Yes, I'm listening to Panic at the Disco, one of the most awesome bands in the world. I just bought their first record the other day. Now I have A Fever You Can't Sweat Out and Pretty. Odd. My mom gave me $100, which is good because I always seem to be broke except for maybe a penny in my piggy bank.

I've been having a tough week. I really don't even want to talk about it, not even here. I just hope I will be able to sort things out. Somehow.

I need to write. I haven't been writing and I entered all of these contests and I don't have a clue what my stories are going to be about. Metamorphosis is getting pretty dusty, all alone and ignored. Huh! I just can't seem to work up the strength to write.

I think there's a war going on outside my window

Helicopters are flying over my house and it's really really loud. I'm sure they're not close close, but they're close enough that I can hear their engines roaring like a lion king.

But it's so hot, it feels like Hell. And I am not even exaggerating. I think I jinxed something because the other day I said I wouldn't mind if the sun was not shining. And that was only because sunlight brings heat but yeah...I think I'm the cause of this gray and stormy weather, as crazy as that sounds.

I am in trouble, well not technically but sometimes it's hard being a writer. Especially when it's all you want to do. I have to finish this math assignment that we were doing in class and I really don't feel like doing it because it's so hot! Plus, I really want to write more of Metamorphosis. I want to finish the first chapter and work on the second. I want to write and write and write.

So maybe I'll be able to make a compromise. I'll write for an hour or so and then I'll devote the rest of my time finishing my math assignment. That sounds like a really good plan, if I say so myself.