Like I said in the last post, I will be doing Chapter by Chapter. After reading chapter one, my “analysis” for it is now posted. It is the page titled “Chapter 1: New Pretty Town”.
On a completely different note, I am really tired right now. I, for once, did not go to sleep at 4 or 5 in the morning. Instead, I went to sleep at 1 and woke at 9 a.m.
Hope you enjoy the Chapter by Chapter.
-Heidi
I’ve decided to do a sort of novel study thing on the book “Uglies” by Scott Westerfield. It’s been on my shelf for a while now. If I don’t read it soon, I’m afraid it’ll rot away or something. I’ll be posting my Chapter-by-Chapter analysis on here. That’s all.
-Heidi
It is officially five in the morning here and while “normal” people are sleeping, I’ve been sitting here at the computer experimenting with Microsoft Paint. And I’ll share them here:
Edward <3 Bella
Experimenting with shading
Again, experimenting with shading
Made for this blog.
A stab at making a avatar in Paint.
Second avatar.
Random doodle that I did yesterday on Paint.
Well I hope you enjoyed that.
-Heidi
Hello. I just wanted to introduce a little poem of mine to this blog. It’s posted on Writer’s Cafe. Here it is:
Fangs
By Heidi
Snow flurried down
Lone figure stood in the shadow,
Face marred by a frown
Uncaring of the frosted snow
Glimmer of white flashed in soft light
Fangs
Thirsty was she, the Vampire
The need, the want
It set her throat afire
Through the flurry of white,
She smelt rich, flowing crimson
Her mind gave in
She would Hunt without reason.
Enjoy!
Title: Simpler Times
Rating: K+
Genre: Realistic fiction
Author notes: First entry ever… hurray. This is a random prompt given to me by my friend, when I asked her for a word for me to write about.
She’s been missing for five years now. Mom and Dad have long since stopped expecting her to show up alive – they stopped when the police did. But I could never give up on that little inkling of hope that my sister, Cherry, could be alive. Every time someone opened the door, I looked up eagerly hoping that she’d walk through them, looking as if none of this ever happened. Dad grew hard, he withdrew himself from us, yelling or dropping whatever he was holding when Cherry was mentioned.
She was his little girl after all.
It’s unhealthy to dwell, at least when I should be doing something productive. So I went to the attic and looked for the box. It’s called “The Cherry Box”, inside was everything that reminded me most of her. Dad had tried to throw it all away once, while a hysterical Mom tried to restrain him. But I saved it, I went out to the garbage can and fished it all out. I opened the box, everything in it looked exactly as it should: a stuffed rabbit, a photo of Cherry, a miniature notebook with a crayon attached, her favourite book (Beauty and the Beast), and a ribbon. I picked up the stuffed rabbit. I had given it to her for her fifth birthday, a year before she was abducted.
“Happy birthday!” I said happily, handing her a bag made of wrapping paper. She wrinkle her nose slightly at the colour of the bag; she really hated the colour pink. She bounced back quickly though, she was excited again within a few seconds.
“Ooh what is it?” Cherry asked me, hopping up and down in her seat.
“You’ll have to open to see,” I told her.
There was no need to tell her twice, she pounced on the bag immediately and opened it up so eagerly, the wrapping paper was torn and sent flying every which direction. She finally found the thing hidden inside.
She looked at the stuffed rabbit held in both of her hands.
“It’s pink again,” she told me grudgingly.
“I know, I got it just for you,” I said, hiding my laughter.
I knew she hated the darn colour, but it was pretty funny to see her face wrinkled in disgust like that.
She assessed the rabbit for a few more seconds then gave it a huge squeeze.
“I love it anyways!” she beamed at me.
“See, I knew you would,” I tapped my temple, demonstrating that I was smarter than she thought.
She got off her chair and hugged me.
“Aurgh, not in front of my friends,” I whined, but I enjoyed the hug, it was nice to know she really did like my present.
I sighed where I crouched on the attic floor. Those were simpler times, I wish we could go back to that. At least then Cherry was here with us. That was the most vivid memory I have of her. That day at her birthday party. Maybe it was because of the food fight we had started not soon after. But that was the memory I look back on to reassure myself that she really did love me now that she wasn’t here to tell me it.
