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My Weekend
Article posted February 9, 2012 at 03:10 AM GMT0 •
comment • Reads 881
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There were 3 seconds left. Why did our games always seem to end up with dramatic last second shots and 1 point differences? We had the ball under our basket, and we were down by 1 point. I was determined not to lose this time. Our team had lost every single game so far this season. I couldn’t let this chance slip by me!
The referee handed the ball to Lilly. She slapped the ball, and Sophie surged forward. Lilly tried to push the ball past 47 (who, by the way, was standing way too close to the line), but 47 grabbed the ball as it left Lilly’s hands and raced down the court. I ran after her (why did she have to be so darn fast?) even though I knew there was no hope. I could see the seconds ticking by on the clock out of the corner of my eye.
The buzzer sounded. I stumbled to a halt and closed my eyes. I could feel the faintest beginning of anger, but I pushed it down and reminded myself that we played a close game. I wouldn’t get anything out of getting angry. I took a few deep breaths and opened my eyes. We’ll win next time!
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Article posted February 9, 2012 at 03:10 AM GMT0 •
comment • Reads 881
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I Had A Plan
Article posted January 30, 2012 at 07:46 PM GMT0 •
comment • Reads 770
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When I'm in a funk or feeling sorry for myself I find a book that I like that isn't sad and read. I read to get my mind off myself and to immerse myself in the main character's life. I find it easier to think about other problems than my own. When I finish reading, I find that I feel better and can think more clearly about whatever I was feeling sorry for myself for. Usually there is something or some solution I overlooked at first that I can spot, like Mrs. Wood did. This solution probably won't work for many people, but it works for me.
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Article posted January 30, 2012 at 07:46 PM GMT0 •
comment • Reads 770
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Let It Snow
Article posted January 23, 2012 at 12:43 AM GMT0 •
comment (1) • Reads 849
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When it’s a crispy, snowy day with no school I like to curl up with hot chocolate, a blanket, and a book on the couch with a warm fire in the fireplace. Everything is quiet except for the crackles of the fire and a page in my book as I turn it. The silence is one of my favorite parts. I can enjoy my book in peace, without having to ignore Lego minifigures with machine guns chasing down terrorists or a stuffed animal trying to get in my face. The snow seems to have calmed my siblings, at least for a little while. I can smell a warm, chocolaty goodness drifting from my cup of hot chocolate and small hints of sap and smoke as the log burns. Everything seems peaceful and content while the snow falls softly outside, muffling sounds and creating small bubbles of warmth almost abandoned by the outside world.
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Article posted January 23, 2012 at 12:43 AM GMT0 •
comment (1) • Reads 849
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Would You Rather...
Article posted January 20, 2012 at 01:38 AM GMT0 •
comment (1) • Reads 898
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I would rather have eyebrows that inch across my face like caterpillars than nose hair long enough to braid.
I think this because having nose hair that long would be disgusting. Do you know what nose hair does? If you do, it isn’t something I would want displayed. It also wouldn’t be hygienic to have all those germs just waiting to get in the way.
I also think that having nose hair that long would impair me considerably. It would get in the way while I’m running, in the shower, and while I’m eating. It would probably clog up my nose so that I have a hard time smelling. And your smell is a large part of your taste. Your tongue alone can only taste four flavors: savory, salt, sweet, and sour. So those would be pretty much the only flavors you could taste. They sound like a lot, but they aren’t. Try plugging your nose while you eat something, and taste (not really) how nonexistent the flavors seem. That’s what things would taste like if our nose hair was long enough to braid.
I also personally don’t like braids. They’re fun to do, but I don’t like the weight of them and how they look. It’s just my personal opinion.
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Article posted January 20, 2012 at 01:38 AM GMT0 •
comment (1) • Reads 898
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One Brave Thing A Day
Article posted January 10, 2012 at 07:18 PM GMT0 •
comment • Reads 880
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One of my goals for this year is to get at least halfway through my book that I'm writing on this blog. I hope to get to Chapter 6.
Small steps I can take to achieve this goal are making sure that I post part of it every week or two, making sure that I correct all my spelling errors or mistakes, and asking for feedback on my posts. I usually don't like to change my writing because I like to think it's fine like it is, but I know that the people commenting have just as good ideas as my own, and that I should be grateful for their help. Still, it's kind of a push for me.
Analytic
:)
;)
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Article posted January 10, 2012 at 07:18 PM GMT0 •
comment • Reads 880
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Prologue #4
Article posted January 11, 2004 at 06:00 AM GMT0 •
comment (5) • Reads 90
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The howl petered slowly out. Kahn growled loudly and shook his head. "It is in vain. You have no hope. They will not get here in time!"
Sheem spat. "Try me!"
The dogs rushed forward, snarling as they collided with the cats. The air was filled with shrieks and howls as fangs ripped and claws tore.
The birds swooped down into the fray, grasping cats in their talons and taking them high into the sky while the cats struggled. A small knot of cats surrounded Sheem, driving back the dogs that tried to break into their midst. Kahn and Legar slowly approached, the dogs keeping the cats at bay. "You see, Sheem," Kahn said. "You have no hope. You are far to greatly outnumbered."
Sheem unsheathed her claws. "I have allies far greater than you think. We shall win this battle!"
"But the question is, will your allies get here in time to save you?" The cats were being pressed back. Many had fled, and some could not keep fighting. The dogs and birds seemed endless.
Sheem was fighting now, her band of cats almost defeated. She clawed and turned leaped, but wherever she turned a dog was growling at her. She was surrounded, her cats pinned to the ground, with no ways to escape. Kahn and Legar stood just outside the circle.
"Surrender. You will have less pain," Legar croacked. "Surrender, and your cats shall live."
Sheem's gaze darted from the dogs, to her cats, to Legar, to Kahn. "Kahn", she pleaded, "Don't you remember what you once were? How can you do this?" For a second Kahn stood there with his eyes closed, shoulders clenched, and Sheem thought there was hope. Then his eyes snapped open, and they were hard as rock.
"I remember", he snarled,"what you did to me. Did you think I forgave you? Never. Why, then, should I show mercy to you?"
Sheem crouched lower. There was no escape now. She had one choice, and Legar and Kahn had made sure of that. She glanced at her cats. They were staring at her, waiting. She hoped they wouldn't hate her for what she was about to do.
"I surrender," she said slowly in a voice heavy as steel, "for you leave me no choice."
This is the fourth part of my story that I'm writing on my blog. Sorry that there was such a huge gap between the second and the third. I didn't go on for a while. And, once again, thank you for all the comments. It's nice to see what other people think.
By the way, I've gotten some questions about what Meods are. I thought I had posted a comment explaining that, but I guess it never got posted. Meods aren't really the leaders of their type of animal. They're more like the embodiment of them. They have all the characteristics of their animal blended into one. Every year or so, their appearance changes to a different breed or color of that animal. The Meods always keep some kind of distinctive markings when they change. For example, Sheem always has the circlet of white fur.
They can't die, but if they're hurt it takes them a few minutes to heal. It's expected that the Meod of an animal will act as a leader to the animals of its kind. There are many rivalries between different Meods, and revenge can take decades, sometimes even centuries, to be played out, because of their almost immortality. This may seem a drawback, but alliances can last just as long as rivalries.
Just wanted to explain that. The last part of the prologue (yes, its still the prologue)will probably be posted around the beginning of February. Earlier, if I can. Thanks for reading!
Analytic ** WW /
[] <> --
P.S. I love playing with all the different faces you can make just by using the keyboard!
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Article posted January 11, 2004 at 06:00 AM GMT0 •
comment (5) • Reads 90
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A Song We Made Up
Article posted December 4, 2011 at 10:28 PM GMT0 •
comment (1) • Reads 87
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Here is a song my sister and I made up.
SALLY WAS A BAD HORSE
The song for annoying siblings.
Sally was a bad horse, but Frank was a worse horse (Repeat)
Then one day they got married, married, married, and had a colt named Bob, Bob, Bob, Who got a mob, mob, mob
To attack his dad, dad, dad, his dad got mad, mad, mad
So he threw Bob out the window, window, window
He threw him out the window, window, window
And one day Bob got married, married, married to a horse named Mary, Mary, Mary
They had a colt named Berry, Berry, Berry, and Berry was quite scary, scary, scary
His eyes were silver, ilver, ilver, and neon pink, pink, pink, also green, green, green.
Not to mention tangerine, reen, reen
He loved to eat whipped cream, cream, cream
The cream was aquamarine, reen, reen, It tasted like a dream, dream, dream.
Did we mention... (Repeat song as many times as you want to)
It gets very annoying after only two or three repetitions! Guaranteed.
Analytic
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Article posted December 4, 2011 at 10:28 PM GMT0 •
comment (1) • Reads 87
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Prologue #3
Article posted November 20, 2011 at 12:48 AM GMT0 •
comment (1) • Reads 102
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Talons gripped Sheem, digging into her side. They were shooting upward, higher and higher into the sky, until the group of cats and dogs looked like ants far below them. The air was freezing cold. It was hard for Sheem to breathe enough, the air was so thin and the sharp claws squeezing her sides wouldn't let her breathe. They were hovering now, and Sheem got her first good look at her attacker. A bird. No, not just a bird, a giant bird. A raven's head seemingly one with the wings and body of a bald eagle.
Sheem spat. "You! You have no business here! This is a personal affair!"
The bird squawked. Then it spoke, in an ancient voice like wood creaking in a strong gust of wind. "Is it?" Then it released its grip and Sheem plummeted toward the faraway ground. The ground rose until Sheem could see every dog and cat. Until Sheem could see wide-eyed animals in the alley. Until Sheem could see every inch of the piece of pavement she hurtled towards. And then she landed.
Sheem landed with a crunch and a thud. She lay there, not moving. The cats slowly approached their leader. What had happened? Meods could not die. But how much could they withstand? Nothing lasts forever. Nothing is eternal. The silence was almost solid in the cool night air, broken only by the soft sound of wings as feathered creatures of all kinds perched on the roofs and gutters around the silent group of animals. The raven/eagle landed silently upon the ground next to Kahn. Then everything was silent. Nothing moved.
Then, finally, Sheem stirred. She struggled to her feet, shaking her head as her confusion from her healing wore off. She lived! A ripple passed through the group of cats that had been awkwardly standing in a circle around Sheem. They moved forward and surrounded her in a protective circle, facing outward and snarling. They unsheathed their claws.
Kahn spoke. "Brave, but you are badly outnumbered" (the dogs growled to make his point) "with the addition of my ally's forces. You are vulnerable to any attack from above." He turned to the raven/eagle. "Legar. I am glad (here Kahn's lip curled) to see you here. I had begun to think you weren't coming." Kahn's light tone poorly masked his contempt.
Legar's eyes gleamed with anger. "But I am here. Do you suggest my word means nothing?" The birds on the rooftops shifted restlessly.
Kahn drew himself up. "I have no need for accusations. What has been done has been done, and what has been said has been said. This matter is closed." He turned to the resistant huddle of cats. "You have no hope. Surrender, or you shall find out the true ruthlessness of our forces."
Sheem coughed, and spoke in a brittle voice. "We are not alone. We will never surrender!" She raised her face to the moon and howled. A guttural sound as old as the moon itself tore from her throat and resounded off the concrete walls.
This is the third installment of my story so far. Yes, I am still on the prologue. We aren't even to the real story and main characters yet. (Well, I briefly mentioned one. You probably didn't notice.) But you need to hear this first. And, when you're commenting, please don't sugarcoat it. Tell me your real opinion about what I should change because you don't like it. I had this happen when I've been reading books. I won't like something the author has done, and I get annoyed. I often talk to the book, even if it can't respond.
Analytic
P.S. I appreciate you reading my posts. Thanks for all the comments!
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Article posted November 20, 2011 at 12:48 AM GMT0 •
comment (1) • Reads 102
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Prologue #2
Article posted October 26, 2011 at 07:37 PM GMT0 •
comment (3) • Reads 208
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The black cat raced toward the end of the alley, tail streaming out behind. The other cats raced after it, catching the urgency and sense of danger. They poured over each other in their haste to flee, though they did not understand what they were running from. They almost made it.
A stream of dogs charged out in front of the fleeing cats, growling and snapping. The cats skidded to a halt, all crouching down to the ground with their ears pinned back. Only the black cat turned and pounded the other way, almost running straight into another line of dogs. They were trapped.
Kahn strolled through the dogs toward the cats, stopping a few feet away. "Did you really think I would let you get away, after I had you right where I wanted you?"
The black cat curled its lip, but stayed silent. It knew how dangerous Kahn could be. His friendly mood was just a mask thinly stretched over the real face.
The lead dog glanced at the sky. "No answer? You should be glad that my ally isn't here. He is much less forgiving of rudeness than I am. Now, will you come quietly, or will you resist me?" Kahn studied the scene in front of him. "Don't even bother answering that, Sheme,you cold-hearted vixen." Here a spark of pain shone in Kahn's eyes. "I know the answer. You never did lie down without a fight."
A loud screech filled the air. A thin gray tabby tom with a stubby tail had leaped on a dog, snarling and scratching. Other dogs poured in to help their comrade, and the cat was quickly overwhelmed and hurled through the air, landing with a horrible thud against the brick wall. But it had provided just enough time for Sheme to act. All the dogs were distracted with the scene, including Kahn. She crouched and leaped for his throat, thorn-like claws outstreached, aiming for the kill.
This is the second in the series of posts in my story. (This will make a lot more sense if you read this after the first. I have answered your plea, Horsish!) Expect the next addition to the story by the sixth of November. If it isn't there by then, let me know in a comment. Please also comment on my story if you think I should change something. I won't necessarily change it, but I can always use the feedback. Thanks for reading!
Analytic
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Article posted October 26, 2011 at 07:37 PM GMT0 •
comment (3) • Reads 208
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Prologue
Article posted October 17, 2009 at 06:00 AM GMT0 •
comment (9) • Reads 170
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Eyes shone from the darkness, watching, shining. Dark shapes flitted across squares of light, shadows, fleeting. As if they were never there. They streamed through the alleys, a sea of flicking tails and pricked ears, of lithe shapes and battle scars. The moonlight cast a strange light on the scene.
The convoy stopped at the edge of a pool of light cast by a nearby streetlamp, crouched, sniffing the air. A cat stepped forward.
It seemed to glow with an aura of power, as if something had infused it with overflowing life. The cat was jet-black, almost disappearing in the abundant shadows. A circlet of white fur, as if to mimic a princess's tiara, was situated just below the cat's ears. It stood at least a head taller than the cats in the multitude behind it.
Suddenly the cat stiffened. The others sensed something was wrong, shifting restlessly, preparing to run. The silence stretched out. None of the cats moved, except for the black cat's tail twitching, rasping against the asphalt.
A low growling rippled through the cats as a huge dog stepped from the shadows into the light. It was as big, bigger even, than the black cat. Its ears were permanently pricked, like a Rottweiler's, but it had the body of a Doberman. It was the deepest black of brown.
The lead cat's eyes narrowed. "You should not have come here, Kahn," it hissed in a deep, ancient voice that sounded as if its owner could have been alive for thousands of years. "These are my hunting grounds."
The dog's eyes gleamed. "We go where we like." Its voice was light, almost amused.
The black cat stiffened. Then it turned and fled.
"Yes, run, little kitty," the dog growled. "After all, that's what you do best."
This is the first part of a story I am writing. Every two weeks or so I will post the next part. Please give me suggestions and comments, or if you're confused, please tell me. Or if you have any things you think should happen in the coming weeks. Thank you for helping me make my writing the best it can be!
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Article posted October 17, 2009 at 06:00 AM GMT0 •
comment (9) • Reads 170
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