Crazy Socks & Writer's Block

The beginning of my short story for class.  When Dora's son tugged on her pants leg, the last thing she expected was to see him holding a tooth. A tooth that clearly did not belong to him. She was no dentist, but she was smart enough to know the colossal thing couldn't have come from Mark's mouth. “Mark, where did you find that?” Dora scolded. “In the backyard.” “Show me where,” Dora commanded. Excited, Mark ran out to the backyard, Dora following on his heels. He led her over to the back of the yard, to the particular corner that couldn't be seen from the kitchen window. There, her other two children were gathered around a hole in the ground. Hole was an understatement though, they'd obviously been working on this, pit, for quite sometime. If there had been no tooth, Dora would have sat the kids down and explained how digging holes this deep was dangerous because of all the water, electric, and who knows what else lines were under the ...

Well, I've got writers block. Which is a bit sad because two weeks ago I wrote twenty pages in 72 hours. It was legit. But I always get a boost after sharing on here! So here ya go!      Walking into school was like walking into a completely new world. One full of bows, exotic smells, and sucked in guts. Add all the incessant questions of whether this looked ok, did you have some extra hair pins, pleas for breath mints and all I wanted was out of here. Ai did as well. Hoping to get a little relief, the two of us turned right around and walked towards the door. That was the moment that our teacher decided to show up.      “Hey girls, where do you think you're going?”      “Outside for a second.” I awkwardly tried to walk around her. Our teacher wasn't having any of that though. She kept moving in the way.      “Now girls, I know what's going on. You two are just a little nervous about today. And that's completely no...

Here's my first homework assignment! Woo! We had to write about our experiences in writing. “You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.” Ray Bradbury. When I was little, the other kids could barely keep up with the intricate stories going through my head. That’s why they never played Barbie’s with me. And that was ok. In 1st grade I remember the first day, I was scolded for starting all my sentences with and. Apparently only published authors were allowed to do that. When I was nine, my grandma told me there were no good books coming out lately. That night I went and wrote a love story for her about two antelopes that fell in love over the rainbow. Not trying to brag or anything, but it was a pretty rousing drama full of politically correct antelope mating calls. I told my third grade teacher that I wanted to be an author when I grew up. She encouraged me to enter a writing contest. With high expectations, I entered my little antelope story and it’s sequel...

Here's two sections of something I've been working on.  All the most famous love stories are about two people who aren't supposed to fall in love, but somehow come together and make it work, no matter what gets thrown at them. That, or they kill themselves. But either way, love that isn't supposed to happen is the most sought after. So what about two people that are supposed to fall in love? Does that make their love any less?      My parents signed the agreement when I was only three days old. His parents came over, took one look at me, then nodded. He was there as well, two years old. Two years old. After the paperwork was signed, the hands were shook, and the celebrations were started, they let him hold me. My parents took a picture of it. He's smiling wide at the camera, somehow adequately supporting my fragile neck. My parent's reassure me that that is quite a feat for a two year old. That picture is sitting in our living room. It stares back at me...

This one, I was experimenting writing in second person. Well kind of. And I was inspired from a friend's crazy love life. Yeah.       I remember that day as clearly as if it was yesterday. For all that matters it could've been yesterday. Such a cliché phrase I know. But that's all that day was, a day of cliches. I was headed over to Enrique's for dinner. Then we were going to go see a movie. Well, that's what my mom thought anyways. We were actually going to a party at one of Enrique's homies houses. He was one of those people, the kind that call their friends homies. Cliché. I didn't really want to go to the party that night. It'd been awhile since Enrique and I had gone out alone on an actual date. Like, to a movie. Those days of simple dates had stopped two months ago. Enrique had found something else he loved to do. But that was ok. Because I loved Enrique. I loved him.      When I arrived at Enrique's house, his younger brother opened the...

Chapter 34: Planets What are planets? Well, they are really ginormous beach balls that have been filled with air, and rocks and a bunch of other stuff. Where did they come from? I dunno. Maybe a plastic factory. Who cares? They exist so just deal with it. Planets are out in outer space, not inner space. They are held out there by very strong men who are being punished. The order of the planets is, Earth Pluto Mercury Mars Neptune Jupiter Venus Saturn and Youranus (some dodo heads like to spell this one Uranus.) A little rhyme to help you remember them is, Every platypus makes major narwhals jump very sophisticatedly your majesty. On leap day, the order changes around. But that only happens once every year so don't worry about it. Pluto is ruled by Mickey Mouses dog. He came to power in the year 1931, after a picnic. He is sometimes mistaken as a very goofy dog, but he isn't. He never drives anything with the word Rover in it. The planet Pluto is the outcast o...

I've decided to share a little bit of my writing every monday. Try it out for a bit. So here's this weeks excerpt! When we reached the studio and the sound room, Lance watched over my shoulder as I turned everything on making sure it worked. “Why're you doing that before the band is even here with everything hooked up?” he asked. I shrugged in response. It was just something that I did. Once everything looked good, it was time to go meet the band. I opened up the door to the waiting room where the band was sitting. Then I about fainted. Because he was sitting there with a big grin on his face. I swallowed the big lump in my throat. Swallowed again just for good measure. Did he recognize me? How could he not? But he wasn't saying anything. What did that mean? My flight or fight reflexes were kicking in and my body was screaming hysterically at me to run. But I couldn't because I had a job to do. Plus I was wearing three inch heels. Which are nothing compared ...

Here's a little bit of a story I just finished, but haven't edited yet. It's about how your nightmares come to life at night, and this group of people stops them from getting you. Yeah. Let me know what you think! :) I put two different little sections, yeah! Sorry if it's confusing, it's from the middle.    “Your dreams are real,” Mr. M said. “They aren't dreams. The mind is a powerful tool and makes the  things that happen in your head a reality. Every. Single. Night. Most of the time, that isn't a problem. Most dreams are good. But what about the nightmares? That's where we come in. We make sure your nightmares don't get you every night. We like to call ourselves The Dreamcatchers. Pretty catchy huh?” he grinned. I remember having no clue what he'd just said.    Right then a voice started talking in my ear. “There's some free fallers at your four o clock.” Derek and I immediately started running towards them, pulling out ...

It's no secret that I want to be an author. I think I've been saying that since I was, nine. Anyways, I was wondering if I should include some of what I'm working on here at times? What do you think?

The only thing I can seem to write right now are Haikus. Maybe I should become a poet. Ha. Ha. Ha. Haiku for an Earwig:                                             Earwig crawling by So gross and unwelcome here Go somewhere and die.      Haiku for Baby Moth:      You are so very small      Babies are usually cute      But not you Baby Moth           Haiku for College Major Switch:           Who knows what I'll do           But tonight I'll write haikus           Major switch, maybe?                Haiku for Facebook:                You were addicting                Now you are jus...

Back in eighth grade, my science teacher was, let go. So we had subs for a couple months while they tried to find a replacement. Subs who just turned movies on for us and let us do whatever. So my friend and I decided to write a story. It was one of those ones where you write a section and the other person writes a section and so on. I was reading through it today and it made me laugh, so I thought I'd share it. Please note, it has lots of references to movies and tv shows we liked in 8th grade, so if parts don't make sense, just google the names. Like Alex Rider. And Perry the Platypus. And that flop of a movie Mr. Magoriums Wonder Emporium. Winnie the Pooh. Blue's Clue's. My weird best friend in the first grade who would shake and fart on command. Anyways. Enjoy! P.S. I write a whole lot better than this now. :) P.P.S At the end there's a poem that I read at an actual poetry cafe. Nobody understood it. Ha ha ha! Once upon a time there was 75945. She or should ...

I remember when I first read Twilight and was like wow. This is the best book ever. And then I read about how she had a dream and that's how the whole story started. I was like man, I hope I have an awesome dream someday that becomes an awesome book. I think I had it! I had a dream about a little orphan girl who was taking a trip to the beach with her orphanage. She saw a teeny tiny baby lobster and wanted to get a picture of it real close. So she got up right next to the baby lobster. Then the baby lobster bit her and told her that he knew who had killed her parents. It was the director of the orphanage! So she went to school the next day, and wore a blue shirt. She wasn't allowed to wear blue to school though so she had to be secretive and wear a jacket over it. She was having a conversation with the guy she liked in the library when all the sudden the director of the orphanage came over and told her she wasn't allowed to read that book. She'd had enough though an...

I did it. I finished a novel that is actually long enough to be published. I checked out the Writer's Market book from the library today. Now, it's time for the next step, the one I never reach. Editing. Editing scares the crap out of me. Then again, I've only finished a few stories in my life and they're embarrassingly written, I would be better off just writing those ones entirely. I've heard that editing is a whole lot easier than actually getting that first very very touch draft out. I hope so. I started back at the beginning of my story, and I'm getting excited. I also went waaay off track from the story I thought I was going to write then than the one I just finished. I'm excited. I'm having fun. I feel like this is the one. I'm getting serious guys. I'm going to go get some stamps and envelopes soon and start sending out to agents. Eeeep! If this is how I spend the rest of my life, I'd be a very happy girl. Just saying.