The Writing Ninja

I know who the mother is from How I Met Your Mother

2011-03-23T21:14:00.000-07:00

Well, let's just say this is a very educated guess. I had no where else to really go but I had to share my insight so this was the first place that I thought of. In the latest episode 'Legen-daddy' where Barney finally meets his Father I noticed some things.

But first, let's recap what we know about the mysterious mother.
1. She has blonde hair
2. She is in college
3. She has a roommate (meaning she does not live at home)
4. She is very pretty, obviously since her roommate said that every guy fell in love with her.
5. Ted meet the mother at a wedding where he was the Best Man

So, here's what I pieced together from the latest episode, the mother is Barney's sister Cassie.

1. Blonde hair. Now it's not for certain whether or not the sister has blonde hair but considering Barney has blond hair I am going to say the chances are pretty high.
2. Barney's father had said that his daughter Cassie was in college.
3. She wasn't at home for the dinner probably meaning she was away at school in her own apartment
4. She is Barney's sister. Need I say more?
5. If rumor is true and it is Barney's wedding that Ted is Best Man at it would make sense for his sister to be there, where Ted would meet and fall in love with...Cassie.

Ta da!

I am...

2010-11-08T14:26:00.001-08:00

I am a nerd because I read and a geek because I play video games.

I am a loser because I do nothing and a dreamer because I want fame.

I am a bitch because I speak my mind and an emo because of my hair.

I am a liberal because I care and a prep because of what I wear.

I am a moron because I have tattoos and a fatty because I eat.

I am a sinner because I swear and a dancer just because I move to a beat.

I am a goth because I like black and a hippie because I love trees.

I am a failure because I make mistakes and judged because I breathe.

If only people could see that you cannot stereotype me.
There is more than you can perceive so look beyond the image of society.
I am me and that's the only label I'll ever be.

©2010

Evenfall Excerpt

2010-10-13T10:45:00.000-07:00

Yes, I realize I am more than likely just rambling to myself but I figure maybe someone will come across these posts one day and like them. So, I will keep on writing and posting them :)

Anyways, Evenfall is the book that I am planning on publishing on my own website (when I get it up and running) and I thought I would share a small excerpt from it.

Flicking on the light switch, I avoided the mirror and headed straight for the sink. I wasn’t in the mood to see what a mess I must have appeared to be. The faucet groaned in annoyance as I twisted the warm handle until a light brown liquid spurted out of it. Making a face I waited until the water was clear before sticking my hands underneath and splashing the warm water onto my face. There was no soap so I did my best hoping that my palms would be enough to rub away the dirt.

A small hand towel hung neatly to my right. Taking it in my hands I shut off the faucet and dabbed gently at my face with the soft cloth. When I felt as clean as I could be I quickly ran my fingers through my hair and decided it was time to look into the mirror. To my surprise there was nothing there but a painting of an elderly woman surrounded by playful children. I stared blankly at the painting before curiously turning around.

Behind me stood a full-length mirror framed in a thick, wooden border. Tiny yet intricate designs that looked similar to the tattoos on Xander’s body were carved deep along the edges running along the entire frame. It was incredibly beautiful, just like everything else in the house. However, the girl that stared into the mirror stuck out like a sore thumb. It felt as if I were staring at a stranger.

My chocolate-colored hair was a matted mess. Twigs and dirt stuck clung to it in various places as if I were intentionally trying to start a terrible fashion statement. I brought my hands up to the end of my hair before running my fingers along the curves of my mouth. The pale pink lips were scabbed and splitting, the taste of salt rested upon them. Careful, I dragged my finger up to the heavy bags under my unusually dark-colored eyes. It looked as if I had stepped out of a horror film.

Sighing, I leaned in closer to the mirror and began to pick at the twigs and dirt that rested inside the nest of hair. For a moment my reflection blurred a few moments before returning to normal. Blinking in surprise I tried to dismiss it as a result of lack of sleep but the image before me began to blur once again. My hand reached out to touch the mirror’s surface and the distorted reflection started to do the same before it completely vanished.

“What the-!?”

“It’s a mirror of truth.” With my mouth agape, I turned slightly to see Xander leaning against the frame of the open door. He too had on a change of clothing, almost similar to what he wore before. The only thing that had really changed was the color of his shirt going from grey to black. Pointing at the mirror he then said, “It shows you who you really are.”

My eyes flickered back the empty mirror. It was strange knowing you were looking in a mirror but not being able to see yourself staring back at you. “So, you’re saying that this mirror is telling me that I’m nobody?”

Xander laughed lightly and shook his head. He pushed himself off of the door frame and walked into the bathroom. His reflection appeared in the mirror, his body pressed against mine. I inhaled deeply for two reasons then. One, the idea of him standing so close made me pathetically nervous. And two, his appearance in the mirror was incredibly shocking.

Two beady black eyes stared at me on a sickly-grey face. The facial features were that of Xander’s yet I couldn’t get passed the odd fact that they seemed slightly distorted. His ears were rather pointed, sticking out from under his untamed brown hair that hung around his neck. They weren’t nearly as surprising as the sharp, toothy smile that came my way. It was a smile that a lion would give its prey if a lion were able to smile.

Inhaling deeply I tried to look away but felt forced to continue staring at the shirtless, grey skinned creature behind me. The intricate tribal-like tattoos that covered his body were a deep blue, almost glowing. The giant scar that ran from his neck to his shoulder blade was a pale, white under the florescent lighting. His wings spread from out behind his back, larger than I had seen them before. The decaying skin that clung to the bones vibrated as the wings opened to their full length.

The image before me terrified me and yet I felt little fear stir inside. My heart was racing, pushing against my chest and still I refused to tremble. The very idea of the creature that stood behind me murdering his own Prince didn’t seem as if it were unlikely and in fact I could have easily believed it to be true. So why then at that moment did I not let the scream that locked inside my throat escape? Any fool would have known to be afraid so why wasn’t I?

Two blood-stained hands began to reach up, wrapping around something in front of them. They were veiny and clawed; the nails sharp and black. They looked as if they were made of very expensive glass. It took me a moment to realize that the thing the bloodied hands were grasping at was me.

Against my will, my frozen body was spun around to face a completely normal looking Xander Helms. I swallowed hard, my heart ready to explode from my chest. So many questions paraded my mind but none of them made it their way out of my mouth. Instead they stayed locked inside my tightly shut lips.

Xander smiled gently, his dimples pressing deep into the side of his cheeks. “I am what I am, and even though I try to hide it I am and always will be Dark Fae. You my dear Lena just don’t know who you are. When you do your true reflection will show.”

And there you have it. :)

Have a Facebook?

2010-10-11T19:05:00.000-07:00

Become a fan of my photography!

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Lincoln-NE/KMD-Photography/134255793257451

I would greatly appreciate it and love you forever. I am trying to start my own photography business, considering it is rather hard to get published these days. I'm not giving up, just pursuing other options. I do still plan on creating my own website and I am in the process of figuring things on that out now. Hopefully it will be up and running by the start of November. At least, let's hope :D

Now, enjoy some of my photography and if you like it, become a fan :)

It is ALIVE

2010-10-03T19:16:00.000-07:00

Yes, I am alive. Hi all, how are you? It has been so long since I've last written anything. Well, I decided to log on to tell you all that I am planning on creating my own website where I can share my stories and writing. I've been trying rather hard to become published and quiet frankly I am tired of hearing no. So, if the publishing agencies won't give me a chance to prove to them what I am capable of then I'll have to do it myself.

I haven't had the chance to create a site yet. Still working on the details to tell the truth, but I will post a link when I get it set up.

Anyways, how are you all doing?

Words

2010-01-16T17:50:00.000-08:00

I wrote this for a friend a few years back who had committed suicide on January 16th. Suicide and cutting yourself is never the answer to any problem. There is always someone who cares about you.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."

She's alone in the dark corner,
Outcasted like a foreigner.
Tears stream down her face,
As she cuts to the base,
Of her arm and her wrist,
Her bloodied fingers curling to a fist.
She feels like no one likes her,
That no one will concur,
But it hurts me to see this girl,
Thinking she is less than a pearl.
She's better than the dirt that hurt her,
Even if she isn't sure,
He's just one guy,
Full of lies,
Not worth her time to shed a tear,
Or sit alone in her bubble of fear.
He may have called her names,
Like whore and slut just to get his way.
The words they sting so she cuts to release the pain,
Feeling as though its the only way to stay sane.
But I wish she could see,
What more she could be.
There's no need for her to think of a pistol,
When she should realize she shines like a crystal.
And emerald worth its dime,
Where rude names are left to fade in time.
I wish she would put down that knife,
And see what she is missing in life.
There's more to it than sleazy men,
Who I honestly think need to be locked in a den.
There are good days and bad,
happy and well just plain sad,
But there isn't a day where you should hurt,
With that blade cutting past your shirt.
Metal on skin belongs to piercings,
Not hurting and names of cursing.
She needs help to understand,
That this world isn't wrapped in bands,
Of lies and rape and pain and tears,
That not everything seems like its in front of a mirror,
Images aren't perfect but they aren't always ruined,
With bloodstained tears of painful wooing.
I only hope she sees the light,
And takes this chance to stand and fight,
Before she hurts herself with more than just a cut,
And I'm left to stare at a casket closed shut.
With words I should have said,
And all I've got are tears instead.

Creativity at its finest

2010-01-15T17:17:00.000-08:00

So, today I found myself on the bored side and sat down and tried to write. Of course, nothing spawned but I did come up with an interesting idea for another story.

You: *Sigh* another story, Kayla!? Don't you have like ten that you're working on?
Me: Erm...*whisper* nine.
You: Sorry, didn't catch that...?
Me: Anyways....

It is actually a rather cute idea I think. I'll probably end up just sticking it up on fictionpress though. :)

So, it would be about this guy (nameless for now) who is rather on the lucky side. He lives a good life but comes across a begging gypsy. She offers to read his palm but he shrugs her off since he doesn't believe in that kind of "hocus pocus" and because of it he is cursed. All these things that are bad superstitions (black cat crossing your path, broken mirror, walking under a ladder) come true and every time he sees one something bad happens.

That's as far as my though has progressed but I love it. Not sure if I'll write it or not but I had fun with the idea and thought that I'd share it :)

On another note my newest photo on DA is up.

My kitty is a natural model, wouldn't you say?

:) Have a great night everyone

Vampires, Werewolves, and Witches! Oh, My!

2010-01-12T12:43:00.000-08:00

Yes, I am fully aware of the populating trend of vampires, witches and werewolves. Thanks to a horridly written book the phenomenon of said creatures have gained widespread popularity among teenager girls. For those of us who are actually great writers (several of my "interweb" friends are) we must suffer at the cost of what this horrid writer has created. Thanks to her and her atrocious book it seems that suddenly everyone wants to become a writer making publishing agencies and their agents even more cautious with the material they even consider.

So, while the rejection letters pile atop of one another I'm left with very few options. I've considered self-publishing but that was an instant no the moment it entered my mind. I have also found myself dwindling on the possibility of publishing on an amazon Kindle. Or, to give up completely.

At the moment, I'm set on continuing to publish, receive "no" after "no" and then maybe trying the Kindle.

Before I let you all go one of my friends made this video for me.

I am in love with it. It's a minute preview of my book. Consider it an internet query. Which got me wondering if I just sent this video to an agent what would they do? It's a paragraph query if you were to write it out. Lol

No, in all seriousness though, it's a fun way to get people interested and I actually adore her for doing this. I can't stop watching it. The music makes my heart all fluttery.

But, I have a teeny favor. If you have a youtube account can you please leave a comment, rate and then share the video with your friends telling them to do the same to help spread awareness? I'd be very grateful. I just want to know if people would be interested in reading it. Help give me the courage to continue publishing, if you know what I mean.

Which leaves me with my question of the day. How do you handle a rejection letter? If you have never received one, what would you do if you were to get one?

"Care for a Kiss?"

2010-01-11T15:07:00.000-08:00

For as long as I can remember I've always had the need to be in front of camera whenever I saw a flash go off. As I got older that need began to fade as my low self-esteem began to take over. A lot of young girls, and boys, can understand that feeling. So as the self-esteem dwindled I found myself behind the camera more so than in front of it. Now, I can say that while my self-esteem has its days, I still prefer to be the one behind the camera. There's something about having the power of capturing the beauty in life.

So, I've taken that love and turned it into what I can hope to be considered "photography". So while I write my words and turn them into something magical I hope that my camera can do the same.

I usually turn to photography for when my words fail. Have you ever heard the phrase, "A picture is worth a thousand words"? Well, I don't believe it to be a thousand words but they can usually conjure up a few. What inspires my photography and even my writing, music. I find that orchestrated music is the best (ex: what is on my profile ^-^) when working with writer's block. It clears the mind and allows you to conjure up a story of its own. And any story needs a picture before it can have words.

What is your inspiration?

"I will always love you, chest or no chest."

2010-01-07T21:31:00.000-08:00

So I've recently come across this hilarious website that one of my friends showed to me earlier today. When you were younger did you ever play around with madlibs? Well, it's similar to that. Once there you fill in a list of adjectives, nouns, verbs, etc. set with two characters (you can choose the names) and click, "Drabble me!" Once "drabbled" you are sent to another page with a madlib-like story. They're very entertaining.

Here's one of mine: (I bolded the words that I chose)

Broken Love

Kairi finished packing. Ever since Jeremy, her own true love, had been lost at sea, Kairi had been Unique.

There was nothing left for her anymore, nothing Kissed her, all was Delicate. So today, Valentine's Day, she was going in the water to become a Rotten Canon.

Just then, there was a Poor knock at the door. Kairi opened it and stood there Loyally for a moment, before falling to the floor in a swoon and bruising her Finger.

When Kairi came to, Jeremy was holding her ear and looking Chilly. "My love," Jeremy said Dreamily, "I'm sorry for the Bewildered shock. I've been shipwrecked on a Colorful island for the last ten years, living like a red roses she has beauty, a tantalizing scent, but hidden thorns. I was only rescued last week." He paused. "I lost my Chest in the wreck. Can you still love me?"

Kairi could hardly believe her Jeremy had returned. "I will always love you, Chest or no Chest. Besides, you can cover it up with a Ring."

They embraced Painfully and vowed to never be parted again.

And all was Elite.

***

Admit it, that was fairly entertaining. =)

Go this website and play around with it.

Missed the No Kiss but doesn't mean I won't join in =D

2010-01-06T18:41:00.000-08:00

Well, there was a no kissing blog going around that I missed =/ but fear not I still want to participate. So to my FOUR amazing followers you guys get to read it. Even though I'm sure only Hayley will comment. Hayley FTW!

All joking aside, this is an excerpt from a story I started to write when I was, I want to say sixteen but I may have been seventeen. It's called Race for the Win so if you can't tell its about horses racing and surprise it's a romance.

*GASP!*

"Kayla, you wrote a romance!? But you can barely stand romance novels..."

"I know, I know it's one of those random things that you just can't explain. Now hush up and enjoy."

"Fine but won't you give us some background information at least?

"I was just about to do that before you interrupted. Are we good now? Okay."

Anyways, before I was so rudely interrupted the following scene is set after the main female lead, Paris Atler was kicked in the side by one of her horses. Nathaniel, the lead male, takes her to the guest house to help ease the bruising.

*******

"Ow," she whispered grabbing at his hand tightly. Nathaniel jumped in shock as he stared into her forest green eyes. "That hurts," she croaked, even though she wore a faint smile.

"Are you okay?" he asked setting the ointment he used to rub on her bruise down.

"Well, I'm not dead but I sure feel stupid," she said releasing her grip from his hand. Nathaniel nodded as he pulled down her shirt letting his fingers brush against her soft skin that he knew he'd never touch again "I know, I shouldn't have-that he'd-I just wanted..."

Nathaniel shook his head as she tried to explain herself. "No. I should have known that the reason you were going to the stables at night by yourself was to get the horses acquainted with your scent. If I'd have known then this wouldn't have happened."

"It isn't your fault, Nathaniel. It's mine for thinking I could approach him," she said pulling his pillow to the nape of her neck. "Thank you though, for everything."

All he could do was nod. She looked so beautiful laying on his bed with his pillow in her arms. Her green eyes slowly blinked up at him and he began to feel the heat rush to his face. He gulped suddenly feeling nervous.

"What about you," she asked indicating to the fresh bruise that was forming on his chest. "I take it you get kicked a lot."

Nathaniel looked down embarrassed that he had forgotten to put on his shirt. Quickly he grabbed for a zipper-hoodie and slipped on over his head. "Me? I'm fine." He really wasn't fine. Not with her so close, yet so far away. If only he could touch her hair or kiss her lips; then he'd be fine.

When he said nothing she began to sigh rather heavily. "Perhaps I should go home," she whispered trying to sit up. Pain wracked in side sending white flashes to her eyes. Cursing, she grabbed at the bruise falling back onto his pillow.

"You're not in any condition to walk home Spitfire and no offense but you weigh more than a bail of hay. So, I won't be carrying you," he teased pulling a tea pot from above the stove and began to fill it with water. Paris' scent was beginning to overwhelm him. He needed a distraction.

Paris stuck out her tongue. "Ha, ha. You are so funny."

Setting the pot down on the hot, right burner, he turned around with a half-smile that Paris had never seen before on his face. It should've seemed goofy-looking but it wasn't. She couldn't help but smile back at it. "I wasn't trying to be funny. I'm serious. I about dropped you on the field and left you out there."

"I'm sure you did," she yawned watching Nathaniel tend to the tea. Closing her eyes she breathed into his pillow. Fresh hay and a faint smell of sweat made its way to her senses. A faint smile spread across her lips. "Mmm, smells nice," she murmured.

"Honey tea," he said pouring two cups. "Your Aunt May used to make some for me when I first started working here."

Her eyes fluttered open as she felt embarrassment wash over her. At least he thought she was talking about the tea. Nathaniel strolled over to her handing her a light grey coffe cup which she gratefully took.

His fingers brushed against her sending a shock of energy up her arm. Immediately her heart began to pound through her chest. He was so close, his lips parting slowly as he brought them to the rim of the coffee cup. She wanted them. Yes, she wanted...no needed them upon hers. They were tingling in anticipation to feel them on her own, pressed against...

"Aren't you going to drink it," he asked bringing her from her thoughts.

Paris blinked for a moment before muttering, "oh yes," and took a long drink ignoring the pain of the heated beverage running down her throat.

Can You Read My Poker Face?

2010-01-06T08:14:00.000-08:00

So I have a serious obsession with cover artists. I think it's because I can't really stand rap, r&b, and sometimes even pop. Yes, surprise, I'm a rocker. Anyways, I've recently come upon a cover of Lady Gaga's Poker Face. Don't get me wrong, I actually enjoy that song but this cover is amazing. It's even more of a shock because it's Chris Daughtry who does the cover. That man has a beautiful voice, I don't care what anyone says.

With that said and done, are there any cover songs that you guys enjoy?

Kissing Scene Blog

2009-12-21T20:30:00.000-08:00

According to a favorite writing friend of mine Hayley "The Writer's Hallow" has informed me that today is "Official Kissing Day Blogfest".

Okay, how could I not join in!?

So the following scene takes place from one of my most prized possessions Enchanted Blood. It is kind of difficult to set you up for the following scene but I'll do my best. The main character, Kairi is a Half-Breed (vampire/witch) and she has feelings for a fellow slayer named Ville. Ville's best friend was recently killed and Kairi finds him alone and decides to offer some words of comfort.

***

Curious, I walked up to him, his eyes glistening in the light as my feet crunched through the snow. There were no footprints where he stood and I realized that he must have been standing at the dock for a long time.

“Etienne and I, we use to come here every night after we were done patrolling to have a drink and watch the sunrise,” he said catching me off guard that I found myself standing behind him frozen in place. “We’d laugh because the vampires they can’t see the sunrise; the rays would just burn them up. So after our fights with them we’d sit here victoriously joking about the things we just did.

“And then the night before he…” Ville paused to turn his face back to the calm sea, the snowflakes engulfed in the watery darkness. “was bitten...he said to me, ‘Ville, you’re my best friend. I hope you know that.’ It was like he knew something was gonna happen to him. And I just brushed it off. Didn’t want to be sentimental you know.

“So I called him a girl. We laughed it off. But I never really got to tell him…we’ve been through a lot. I’ve avoided this place like the plague. But something was…pulling me…to come here.”

It was strange that he would use the word pulling. Never had I had a sudden urge to go to the pier by myself. But then it came. Pulled.

Was it just coincidence?

“He was my best friend. I should have just told him instead of being an idiot,” he muttered slamming his reddening hands on the railing.

“Hey,” I muttered placing my hand on his arm, my fingers brushing the snow off the coat. “He knew how you felt.”

Slowly his bloodshot eyes drifted down toward my hand as if my touch had burned him. I watched silently as his eyes dragged along my arm to my shoulder trailing up to my throat where they lingered for a moment. Swallowing hard I began to bite my lip wondering why he was staring at me the way he was.

Lazily, they dragged up to my chin, staring intently at my lips, as if studying them the way a college student studied for finals. Finally his eyes made their way to mine and I saw a lot more sadness in them than I had seen in a while. Tomorrow was his best friends funeral and at that moment I knew it was dawning on him harder than it had earlier.

Before I could offer any consolation, Ville’s hands were on my back, pulling me into his cold body. His lips claimed mine, a little eagerly, as I opened them enough to allow his tongue to enter. It was sharp and cold, and tasted like a mix of cigarette and mints. This kiss was nothing like the one we shared earlier.

It wasn’t a curious peck, or a gentle brush of lips. This was full of hunger and desire that I felt myself going literally weak in the knees. I was confused, distracted by his scent.

His hands trailed up the back of my coat to the back of my head pulling me in closer as if I wasn’t kissing him enough. My hands however remained at my side. I wasn’t sure what to do with them, or even what I was doing in the first place.

It was wrong. Right? I didn’t know. I just-

The kiss was growing deeper as his cold hands began to tug gently at my hair. But when I wasn’t responding the way that he was hoping I would he pulled back, still holding onto me to stare into my eyes.

He was confused, his green eyes no longer glittering in the moonlight. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I knew that I didn’t want Ville to feel sad anymore. If kissing him made him feel better than there was no harm in it.

Slowly, I brought my hands up to his waist as his hands began to caress my face. My heart pounded so hard that I thought he would be able to feel it through the both of our jackets as our chests melded into each other. So many feelings were surging through my body at that moment, even more so than when he was kissing me.

“Did anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are,” he whispered, the snow falling around him like a haloed effect. Instantly I sucked in the cold air, nearly shocking my lungs to give up. “You should know that you are,” he said as he leaned in closer to me, our noses gently touching each other.

Suddenly I began to realize how wrong the situation was. He wasn’t kissing me because he liked me, or wanted to be with me. It was for the reason that I worried Beri was with Sierra. Because he was alone, and didn’t want to be left alone in his thoughts.
I was just a distraction to Ville.

“Wait,” he breathed pulling away from me, my heart stopping at the sudden movement. “This is…its not right.”

Slowly I unraveled myself from his hold, staring blankly at the ground beneath us. I was too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said suddenly catching my chin with his hand so that my gaze met his. “I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this. I was lost in a moment of weakness.”

“Weakness,” I repeated, the embarrassment rising even faster.

He nodded, biting onto one of the metal piercings at his lip. “I should know better than to have done what I just did. I’m not in the right mind to be doing this and I shouldn’t have brought you into it.”

Now I was even more confused than before. What was he trying to tell me? Standing up I quietly suggested that I should go home.

Again, Ville nodded, rising to his feet to bring his face closer into mine. I felt myself hold any air that was in my lungs hostage. “Good night,” he whispered into my ear, that his warm breath blew lightly on my neck. My body involuntarily shuttered at the feeling.

“Night,” I replied caught off guard by the kiss he planted on my lips one last time. This time, I did not return it, even though I wanted to.

“You should go before I forget who you are,” he said turning away from me to face the moon.

And there you have it. My kissing scene. Thanks Hayley for letting me know. Can't wait to read what you have in store =D I am sure it will be great!

Lost In Translation

2009-12-14T13:05:00.000-08:00

On top of writing and drawing I'm big on photography and editing photos. It's one of my passions. I think that should I fail in the writing business I may pursue a career in photography. My latest specimen is a friend of mine, Katy Paige. She's a beautiful model and so fun to work with. What do you think? Do you think I have what it takes?

Writing is a passion of mine and so is photography. It is such a pain that I have to be so in love with two of the hardest professions to get into. It seems like all of the sudden everyone wants to be a writer, or a photographer. *sigh*

What do you want to do with your life?

sigh

2009-12-10T15:20:00.000-08:00

Hales, my one and only follower, I heart you. Oh, so much. But I fear not, one day I'll have more than just one follower. I just have to figure out how to whore myself out for others to discover my blogs. Mhm...

Oh well. I have been doing a lot of holiday shopping. I've hardly had any time to actually sit down to write. An early tweet of mine was to try and write at least ten pages and it is now 5:22 and I haven't even started. To be honest, I have a case of writer's block. I've been trying to cure that with my art.

I know what you're thinking:

"Say what!? The Writing Ninja doesn't just write but she draws as well!?"

*Blushing* "Why yes, yes I do draw. I'm not at all a professional but I do pride myself in my artwork."

Currently I am drawing a photo of Squall Lionheart. For fans of Final Fantasy you'll know who he is. Let me tell you, I hate his hair. *sigh* It doesn't help that I am a perfectionist either because I have crinkled up a good ten drawings just because his spiky, gravity-defying hair isn't right.

I hope that after the Christmas season is finished and my drawing is finished I will have cured my writer's block and continue with my writing.

Happy Holidays!

Oh one more quick note. I am making a guest appearance on Breannah (The Pwner's Blog) so keep an eye out for that. It should be rather entertaining. Here is their link just in case:

http://breeannah.blogspot.com/

Who is The Writing Ninja?

2009-12-09T14:33:00.000-08:00

Well first of all, I'm awesome. Ego set aside, I'm really not. I'm just an average, run-of-the mill girl with dreams to become an author, like many of the people here. So, what makes me special? Nothing I guess. So why take the time to listen to me? Because I have no life and would love it if you took the time to read my pointless blogs because you as well have no life as well. And how do I know this? Well because you're taking the time to read my pointless blog. Not hard to put together.

So let's get started. I love to write. Really, I breathe it in. I love words, how they work, what they are, what they mean, everything about them fascinates me. They're simple yet complex and when put together can create the most beautiful of art. Yes, I believe that writing is an art. It takes a lot of skill to put those words together and make something that someone will remember.

I write poetry, usually when I'm feeling rather emotional. It's a great outlet. My greatest passion though is to write novels. I love to indulge in my characters and story. Fantasy is my favorite but it's a tough market as of now, especially since Twilight (yes, I despise Twilight) seemed to take over and destroy any hope for actual writers with real hopes.

My most current project is a story about a nerdy college freshmen named Chester who goes to Florida with his two best friends for their first out-of-state Spring Break. Things go wrong but in the end he learns to live life and to not be so uptight.

My most prized project is a story I finished (and tried to have published but because of the whole vampire phasing out it has been rejected several times) is called Enchanted Blood. It's a story about a fifteen year old girl named Kairi Williams who is a social outcast at school. She only has two friends, Sierra Trescott and Van Roberts by her side as she learns the truth about her parents death and discovers that she is the daughter of a witch and a vampire. She is what is called the Half-Breed, a prophetical being created to either destroy or save the world.

Sounds cliche, but it really isn't.

Anyways, stalk me =)

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Question: What do you like to write?

The Tedious First Blog

2009-09-26T18:13:00.000-07:00

Let's just get this first post out of the way shall we? I admit, I am not much of a blogger. Whenever I blog I feel that its all about me, me, me and I'm not that kind of person. I'd rather talk about something else besides me, because let's face it, I'm a very boring person. I live in the middle of no land Nebraska where I swear there are evil killer cows. Nothing interesting about that at all.

Aside from the killer cows, and might I add the sea of corn, I live a fairly normal life, therefor nothing to blog about. I confess, I am a nerd. One big giant nerd. I'd rather stay at home playing video games online or by myself than go out and party. And who wants to read about the girl who stays at home and doesn't get wasted? Not many people.

But, I can tell you that I do have something to offer to this place. I am an aspiring writer (as I am sure most of us are) who wants to become something more than just the nerd girl surrounded by killer cows. So here I am in hope to share my ideas, thoughts, poetry and writing. I do hope that I don't bore everyone to death in the process.