Finally

I am over my sickness! I am SO happy.

Today I went to Target and discovered what I'm getting Emily for her birthday (it's gonna be good), had Fro-Yo with Bri-Bri, browsed at Tillys, and freaked out when I saw someone (who I thought was a manikin) move. But the best part of today (not the weather) was the fact that I wrote. I haven't written for a long time, and this is the first day my goal of 300 words (which I established on Sunday night) has been completed. I couldn't do it on Monday because after school I was home for about 20 minutes.

My writing isn't that good, but there is an element in it that excites me greatly. The main character is a guy (I'm AWFUL at writing guys) and he has a lot of character (I'm HORRIBLE at showing character). So I will share my work with you, if you want to read it.

Return (why did I write rescue?) (working title)

Matthew watched the fog move across the small farm building. The lows of cows, neighs of horses, and snorting of pigs filled the air.

With a quiet sigh, he lifted his leg stiffly. Matthew pulled the heavy army jacket tighter around his shoulders. Limping, step by step, he made his way down the hard-baked dirt road. Toting his small pack, Matthew walked with a lop-sided rhythm, a reminder of the hard war behind him.

Matthew clutched the camouflage strap holding his pack tensely. His brow furrowed into a weathered glare, the determined expression that had always occupied his face during battle.

“By all God’s grace, let this be the one,” he prayed, closing his eyes reverently and gaining a moment’s respite from the anxious dread in front of him.

With all of a soldier’s weary patience, Matthew stopped in front of the door and rapped the wood sharply. He waited for a few moments, leaning uncomfortably to the left, when a skimpy girl opened the door. She poked her head out, her body blocked out by the solid door.

Staring blankly at him, she greeted him with a sharp “hello”.

Matthew cleared his throat and responded respectfully, “Hello, miss. I am a wandering soldier searching for my family. Am I correct in thinking that the Bowers live here?”

She nodded curtly. “What is your business with them?”

Matthew’s glare lightened slightly. He answered, in a gruff voice, “My name is Matthew Bower. I am their son, and I have returned from war.”

The girl stepped away from the door momentarily, shocked enough for a softer face to be revealed behind the cold shell. “Their-their son?” she asked, moving close again. Matthew nodded. She shook her head slowly, avoiding his eyes. “C-come in.” Matthew pushed the door completely open to a small living room with a table, chairs, and a stone fireplace with a few low flames flickering quietly. He stopped slowly, running his hand over the table’s smooth surface. “Wait here,” the girl ordered, walking towards another door. Matthew nodded, still gazing at the familiar rings circling over the table.

From the annex came a muffled crash. The door swung wildly open as an old man, gasping, stared at Matthew with awe. Behind him, a woman tried to push her way in front. Matthew stared at them, unbelieving. Finally, the man let go of the door handle stiffly, staggering towards Matthew as if in a dream. “Matthew?” he whispered.

Sorry, that kind of ended abruptly.

Photography

I (now) understand (I think) why people want to be photographers. In my writing, I want people to see the beauty of the world, and sometimes it's obscure. This picture is something I found on stumbleupon.com, and I think it captures so much with just one shot.

Living Words

Thinking back on the title, it sounds like I'm going to talk about the Bible, but I'm not.

I seriously need to get back in life. All my inspiration comes from the one thing I do: watch Dr. Who. It is brilliant, but my writing is becoming too influenced by a TV show. This is what I hate about being sick. Since I don't go to school, I don't do a thing, I don't talk to people, I don't experience anything but illness. I cannot write when I'm sick. It all turns into trash! But it isn't just writing. I can't do ANYTHING when I'm sick. I feel like I'm trapped and I just want to burst that stupid seaweed bubble that's holding me back! Brrrg. It doesn't help that I can't sleep at night. I have no idea what's wrong, but I was up at 4 in the morning last night. I normally get to sleep around 11 (yeah, I know some people don't sleep at all, but sleep is something I cherish), but I was listening to a single episode of Writing Excuses for hours on end!

The worst thing about being sick is that I am fine at home! Most of the time, I just have a short attention span or headache or stomach ache. But when I go to school and I'm around people, like today, none of them think that I'm sick. And I can't blame them, because I don't act sick. I act normal. But when I'm especially noisy and hyper at school, that's when I'm having the worst time. I just try to ignore the fact that I feel like throwing up, or that I want to scream and die. But after school, even today, when I was there for only an hour, I was exhausted. I didn't want anything more out of life than a nap. I wanted to get out of there FAST. And so it bothered me greatly when people looked at me with these expressions on their faces 'YOU are sick?' and 'why have you been skipping school?'. Then they ask if I'm feeling better, and, if they're an adult especially, I have to say 'yes, a little bit' or lunge into a huge, dumb, useless conversation. As it is, I am feeling WORSE! I can't sleep. I can't eat. I think the only things I can do are blog, drink water, and watch TV. The life of a sickie.

Wow, so the title of the blog, An Author's Escape has so much more to it. Now, if you look beneath the surface, I'm sure you can figure out some of its meaning.

Doctor Who

Wow, no one following this blog besides Brina knows about Dr. Who! That is so depressing.

In an attempt to inspire my Whitcomb (did I spell it right?) sister to watch the most amazing TV show ever, I will list all the good things about it.

First off, I want to tell you (I enjoyed the pizza) that the soundtrack is BRILLIANT (in a British accent). Murray Gold is a genius (by even my standards) and he can inspire such emotional things in a SCI-FI TV show!

Second, the directors are also genius. They can creep you out, make you scream, make you cry, make you laugh. They can do anything they want with Doctor Who, and I respect them for that because that's where I want to be with my writing. I never thought a TV show could be a work of art.

Third, the screenwriters are hilarious. Like NOTHING they say is stupid and everything they say (like I said with the directors) can range from depressing to super freaky.

Fourth, the acting is just marvelous. The Doctor (don't ask me 'who?', that's his name) is always beautifully done! His companions are perfect reflections of his emotions and humanity itself.

Now, I reccomend this to anyone who is not afraid to be scared to death watching a time-travel show. The storyline is brilliant, though, and I think the chills are worth it. This show is nothing but pure brilliance! Man, I should watch The Christmas Invasion again. That was hilarious.

For Brina

So, here's my explanation, Brina (see comment on Brina's latest post). If you represent that cat, the duck represents the publishing company. Do you think little Orangey here (yes, I named him Orangey) got to the point where he could pet little Orange-Yellowy without slowly creeping up and getting closer? You need to sheath your 'claws' (translation: you can't just intimidate them with power, you need to give them your heart), as I just explained, you need to give them your heart. At first, they may hiss like Orange-Yellowy did (I can see into his past), but eventually you will be petting Tates Publishing Company like you are best buds!



Yay, Orangey!

Sick Monday

Wow, there's another title that could mean a lot...but the only thing it means is that I'm sick and it's a Monday! I am staying home from school, eating Ravioli, and writing a play for Rachel's birthday. Awesome. The down side is, of course, I'm sick. I guess its not too bad, but I'm kinda blech and with the headache and stuff...I slept in until like, 11 o'clock, so I guess that's a hint I should be asleep. Whatever. I should start posting chapters of my writing. This is such a boring post!

Oh, right. I actually had something to say. I have made a promise to myself (with Brina as a witness) that I will be completely truthful on this blog, but that's alright because I only have two followers. This ravioli is delicious!!!! The other thing I was going to say was if anyone wants to read a story about a dude named Mathew and his sister problems. It's a lot more complicated than that, but man I am tired!!!

Watch this video if you feel like laughing (sorry I can't upload, I don't know how!):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ad-pxjmlpds&playnext=1&list=PL90EE0A4B8EBE98E7

Oh, and Bri-Bri, you made my day twice in one morning :)

Bursting Seaweed

Yeah, I know that I've been putting a lot of posts up for only 2 days, but I just have to say this.

First, seaweed mango balloons are delicious and taste good with pomegranate Fro-Yo.

Second, there are some people in this world that I just can't understand. I'm not going to name any names, but they always say the thing that will actually get me mad. They always assume the things that affect me the most. They always insult my friends who they do not understand. They always think they are better than people. But the thing that I hate about them the most is the fact that they are perfect reflections of me.

Third, one of the things that I fear the most in THIS WORLD (no emotional tragic thing) is if I get a contract from a publishing company to write another book (WAAYYY in the future) and I miss the deadline. I have a few ideas of why I might fear this so much, but not really enough for a scientific theory. I have always been bad at evening out work throughout a large period of time. I always end up doing it last minute. I don't think I could do that with a novel.

Fourth, I can't imagine living without my best friend. She is my inspiration. This may sound creepy, but I'm trying to work out the difference between love and friendship (I do NOT mean this in a creepy way). Whenever I have to turn a critical eye towards her, I end up overlooking something without knowing it because in my eyes, she is already perfect. I can't stand it when someone takes her for granted. I want to wrench those people (see thing number two) apart and force my knowledge of her on them. I want them to feel everything she's felt and choke it down with arsenic sauce (sorry, that's just my nature). I am ranting SOOO much. Here's where I feel bad because I might be doing some of the things I hate the most... I'm sorry, CENSORED, CENSORED, and CENSORED! Yeah, I did just censor their names. I don't know, maybe there are three, maybe there are more...

Thank you for reading this entire tiresome post (if you did), I know this is just a whole lot of rant, but I needed it. I've been holding that back for a while. IT GROWS LIKE MEDUSOID MYCELIUM IN THE BRAIN!!!!!!!!!!! That was a Series of Unfortunate Events reference, sorry.

Depth

Sometimes people say I'm a really deep person, but I am definitely not. I may have the occasional deep thought in mind, but that is not enough to make ME a deep person. Emphasis on the ME. Saying that I am deep is like calling someone a genius when they've only had a few brilliant ideas. You are not truly genius unless at least 62% of your ideas are mad and the rest are smart. For me, my 'deep' thoughts come few and far apart (well maybe not far apart, I have deep streaks). Probably about 0.01% of my thoughts are deep, but the majority consist of 'That Dr. Who episode was genius, and anyone who says otherwise is selling you something!'. So, with that, I will say that I am obviously not a deep person.

Although, if anyone was looking at the title (of this blog) and saying 'wow, that could mean either so much or so little', it means a lot more than it looks like. That title is connected with some of my most deep thoughts, but that doesn't mean much. Figures, all of my depth comes from depression...LOL!!!! "My depth comes from deep inside."

I have so much more I could say on this subject, but I'll end with another little blurb I wrote listening to Doomsday by Murray Gold and the BBC Orchestra (Dr. Who soundtrack!!! OMG!!!) I hope I can get away with cheesiness by covering it with intense drama.

"Something's wrong. I put my ear to the phone and hear my heart beating. I look out the window and see a man kiss my lips. I open the door and feel a child's arms around me. I drink water and taste blood. Darkness surrounds me. Or do I surround the light?"

No Pressure

Have you ever felt the pressure of people crowing over you saying you're amazing? Or the self-afflicting pressure when YOU believe you have to do something awesome? "No pressure," as an awesome person (whose name starts with an E and ends with a mily) once said. That's how I feel about this post. Everyone expects something awesome from a first post! So I will give you a sample of my writing (which isn't awesome, but it's close enough).
Sorry if this doesn't make sense to you, but it makes sense to me.

I am stronger than you think
I think stronger than I talk
I talk stronger than I act
I act stronger than I am