Time ;; 1:21 P.M.
Tunes ;; 21 Guns - Green Day
Mood ;; Content and happy
Adore ;; Being home, friends, and knowledge
Dislike ;; Never seeing certain people again
Read ;; Wuthering Heights by Charlotte Bronte
I'M BACK!
I came, I learned, I left! My trip went fantasticly! I made a ton of new friends that I plan to stay in touch with, learned SO much about writing, met some amazing authors that I adore and had them sign some books!
If anyone has any questions about what I learned while on my trip please let me know! I'd be thrilled to share this with you!
But while there I learned about publishing! Since then I've been looking into it more and I think it's a huge, real, posibility! How freaking awesome would that be?! Anyways, let me know if you're interested in learning more about publishing - especially for short stories!
And can I just say that my cbox has been getting so much love and well wishes that it's mildly rediculous? Seriously everyone, thank you! I'm gonna be getting back to everyones messages over the next couple of days. I really appreciate it!
Smiling,
Heart Lace
Time ;; 3:26 P.M.
Tunes ;; Various Show Tunes
Mood ;; Anxious
Adore ;; Opportunity!
Dislike ;; Kidnappers
Read ;; Wuthering Heights by Charlotte Bronte
It's down to hours until I leave for my trip! I'm busy making sure that everything is packed, ready, and set to go! This is so exciting!
Now, while I'm away I wont be able to check my cbox or email. I'm sorry, but I wont be able to reply back to anyone unitl probably the twenty-ninth. But I do hope everyone is well and having a fantastic summer break!
Also, my mom has been freaking me out about kidnappers and mean people. So I figure I should make a formal statement on the matter here. Please do not kidnap me, touch me, or seek me out. Thank you for your cooperation.
COUNT DOWN: 15 HOURS
Sincerly,
Heart Lace
Time ;; 9:24 P.M.
Tunes ;; That's What's Wrong - Good Old War
Mood ;; Sleepy
Adore ;; Getting down to buisness!
Dislike ;; The exhaustion that follows
Read ;; The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde and War of the Oaks by Emma Bull
I had to put that that icon size version of my banner. I thought about putting up a witty icon, but I wanted to show you guys and gals that.
Today I set my alarm, listened to, and actually got down to work. I'm almost done cleaning my closet (which did look a lot like a harry man's back side with the hair equaling strewn about clothes), did some edits for my love, Indie, plotted evilly, bathed, laundry, and the dishes.
Oh, and lets read an excerpt, shall we? Because I'm just a buzz with writing energy.
His mouth hung limply open while his eyes remained unfocused, staring at my face. “Brains,” he moaned loudly as his head rolled back.
I only smiled meekly, bending closer to him. I knew that the rope I had used was sturdy and that I could tie a mean knot. I wasn’t worried about him breaking free and attacking me. As I carefully placed my hand on the back of his head I pushed him forward. “Sh, sh,” I whispered quietly. “Are you hungry, Lew? You want something to eat?”
I bent my face closer to his and looked at him expectantly. His skin was beginning to turn gray and where there were gashes on his face I could see the few flies that he was beginning to attract. He’d already begun to smell of rotting flesh but it was better than the dirt he used to reek of when he was alive. His dark brown eyes were glazed over while his lids were half closed.
“Brains,” he repeated again dumbly. His jaw was slacked, reminding me that some of his teeth were missing.
I pinched his cheek with two fingers, smiling. “You’re so cute. How can I say no to that face?”
He only moaned in reply, but I took it as a good sign. The doctors had declared him dead a week ago, so anything really was a positive.
I moved away from him and walked over to the kitchen cabinets. Having him tied to one of my dining room chairs at first had been a bit of a bother, especially when his relatives came to give me their condolences and grieve with me. But since they had left having him in the kitchen was a blessing. I didn’t have to walk far for his food and he liked that there wasn’t any sunlight in this room. It was a win, win situation for both of us.
I opened up the top cabinets finding some half eaten boxes of cereal and ramen noodles. I shook my head, knowing that the contents of which were probably stale but Lew hadn’t been a picky eater lately. “You want some Cheerios, babe?” I said without turning back to him. I took the box of Cheerios and bent down to open the bottom cabinets for a bowl. As I pulled open the cabinet door, I was greeted with a large harry spider hanging casually on its web.
I shrieked loudly, falling back onto my hands and bum. The box of Cheerios I had been holding flew out of my hands sending cereal across the floor. “Lewis! Kill it! Kill it!” I pleaded, acting instinctively. After a moment of staring intensely at the arachnid before me, I looked back to my deceased fiancé. His tongue was hanging from his mouth and his head was balanced awkwardly on his shoulder. His entire body was slumped in the chair, leaning heavily against the ropes that I had tied around him.
I looked from him back to the spider and sighed. I reached forward and slid off my shoe, holding it in my hand like a torch. Hesitantly I scooted closer, scrunched my face in disgust, and with rapid strikes I slammed my shoe against the pest, making sure that I had killed it. So as to avoid seeing the guts and stray appendages I quickly closed the cabinet door and tossed my shoe across the room for good measure.
While sitting on the floor I looked back up to Lewis. Drool was beginning to fall from the corner of his mouth and his eyes were completely closed. I knew he wasn’t asleep. Since he’d died he hadn’t slept. Every day and night he would stay tied to his chair, where he had sat when he was alive and we would eat together, and drool. He would moan and say occasionally, “brains,” but other than that he was pretty inactive.
. . . because every writer has to cover zombies at some point. Maybe I'll have this short story done before too long? But what did you think about it?
COUNT DOWN: NINETEEN DAYS
Sleepy,
Heart Lace
Time ;; 6:11 P.M.
Tunes ;; Perfect Situation - Weezer
Mood ;; Humourous
Adore ;; Quotes
Dislike ;; Spiders
Read ;; The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde and War of the Oaks by Emma Bull
All I have to say is, "That's not a large spider! That's a small sheep!"
And in case you haven't heard the buzz around town yet, check out the Supernatural Awards. Nominations for season three open up in a number of single digit days, so be circular and nominate your favorite stories. Only you can nominate the stories that you adore.
Also, I read Raised by Wolfs by orangesharpie18 within two days and adored almost every sentence of it. If you're a fan of supernatural stories I'm suggesting this little gem. Go get you some.
TWENTY-THREE DAYS AND COUNTING.
Streching lazily,
Heart Lace
Time ;; 9:59 P.M.
Tunes ;; I Want You - Elvis Costello
Mood ;; DETERMINED!
Adore ;; Books and fantasies
Dislike ;; Being ill
Read ;; The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde and War of the Oaks by Emma Bull
Alright, folks, I’m going to do it. I’m going to rekindle my friendship with my first boyfriend. This is going to happen. I want us to be friends. I don’t want us to go away in this awkward state that we are currently and never speak again. So I’ll lure his best friend into inviting him to gatherings that I’ll be at too. I’ll call him at some point and see how he’s doing. I’ll do something to make this happen!
On a side note, I’m ill. I’m hacking up some weird phlegm product and my nose is running more than the water tap. So I’ll do that whole calling up the first boyfriend bit when I won’t have to excuse myself every two minutes to go and choke. Ah, how lovely it is to be a humanoid.
OH! I got a new short story out! I really want to revise it a bit, but for now I think it’s alright. It’s called Dear Baby and is about a woman writing a letter to her unborn child on her life. Just so you’ve been warned, this story contains a lot of sex and drugs so if you’re not comfortable reading anything on those topics I would suggest another one of my works. Not to self pimp or anything on my own site on my own blog. The title back there is the link.
And I’m going back and forth reading The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde and this new book that I got, War for the Oaks, by Emma Bull. Both are so fantastic. I’m not going to lie, I was really skeptical of War for the Oaks, but it’s turning out to live up to its phenomenal hype! I’ll have it done in a couple days, so I’ll write a review and let you all know.
Crap, I haven’t been doing book reviews. My last one was in . . . oh my. Yeah, I’ll get to work on that.
And for those of you who are counting down with me about my trip, the number of days left is twenty-seven, I believe. And then I’ll in Massachusetts meeting sixteen published authors and about forty other teens like me. And by God, if what Indie said happens (about there being some wonderful hunk of testosterone that fancies me and we read to each other by candle light), then let us all drink our non-alcoholic drinks in honor of her wonderful foresight. Keep your fingers crossed, folks. That’s all I’m saying.
COUNT DOWN: TWENTY-SEVEN DAYS.
Anxious and school girlish,
Heart Lace
Time ;; 8:22 A.M.
Tunes ;; Look Out Sunshine! - The Fratellis
Mood ;; Interested and stupid
Adore ;; Writing (the only thing that if I screw up I can revise)
Dislike ;; Time
Read ;; The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
I decided that this week I would make amends with my first boyfriend. I just want to be on good speaking terms with him. But he's graduating this Saterday and I'll probably never see him again. I'm such an idiot. I just want us to be friends and not so awkward. Is it so weird that I want to be friends with my ex?
I made a mixtape for my bestie. The title will say most of it. Remembering and Reminiscing the Beatles: Only Slightly Not. She had one song by the Beatles, Mister Postman, that she wanted on there so I went with a theme of songs kind of like that. But then I added Kung Fu Fighting, so I had to add the "slightly not" part.
Chapter ten of Define Dead is out! Just saying. Also, want to see what little story I'm working on? Here's the first bit.
No one made a move to stop me as I stood up and walked towards the door. To be honest, I don’t think anyone saw me. I don’t think anyone really cared. They were too busy talking about who was screwing who to hear the screen door click shut behind me.
I knew it was probably just as well that they didn’t pay me any mind. There was nothing I could bring to the conversation that would interest them. I wasn’t up to date on the socialites around town. I didn’t know the first thing about the proper ways of filming pornography. All I knew was how to play my guitar.
So I sat on the swings outside of the house and pushed myself higher and higher into the atmosphere. This world wasn’t what I had always thought it would be. When I was little I had thought that mom and dad just wanted to make memories that they could watch again and again. And I guess that’s true; that is what they did. I just figured that in those memories they would be fully clothed. And that the videos they made wouldn’t be sold online and in stores for very reasonable prices.
I think that they still love me though. They go to my volleyball games and cheer me on. They still do my laundry and buy me food. And I guess that’s really all that matters. So long as they provide, I’ll be just fine.
Every few weeks they like to throw parties at our house. They invite all of their friends over and their best clients. They fix a nice dinner and set the table with our nicest dinner plates. They talk about the who’s who in the business as I smile politely and nod. “Oh, maybe,” I say with a grin when asked if I’ll be like my mom. “You never know.”
Everyone always laughs and says that I’d be good for the business. They say that I could bring in a whole new market of customers. I just sip my tea and make sure that I eat enough. So far mom and dad haven’t asked me to be in any other their movies. I don’t take it as an insult, so I never mention what the others say at the table when the guests leave.
Others didn’t believe me when I was little. “What does your mommy and daddy do?” teachers and strangers would ask me. “They make movies,” I would say. They would ask me what kind of movies, being very impressed by what they knew of my parent’s careers. I would think for a minute, then say, “action movies. They always make a lot of noise.”
When I began to grow older, I was never really ashamed of my parents. They had to pay the bills and they enjoyed doing what they loved. I never heard that the other teens parents liked working in a cubical day in and day out. At least mom and dad still smiled.
Now when people ask what my parents do, I still say that they make movies. I’ve found that people don’t really care enough to ask too many questions, but if they do ask what kind I’m never afraid to tell them porn. They always laugh, thinking that I’m joking. And I always smile and look away, knowing that they would be another friend that I shouldn’t invite over.
I would really like to know what you guys think so far. I don't usually write about porn or sex. Not to mention I don't usually write so simply. So thoughts on this would be nice.
Still feeling like an idiot,
Heart Lace
P.S.
It's one month exactly until I leave for my writing camp and meet Kelly Link and Holly Black and all these other teens that write and - OH MY COOKIE. I need to find my inhailer. Excuse me, folks, while I hyperventalate.
Time ;; 11:45 A.M.
Tunes ;; Creeping Up the Backstairs - the Fratellies
Mood ;; Giddy and unbelieving
Adore ;; Honors, freebies, boys, and my friends
Dislike ;; Awkward situations
Read ;; The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
Beaded Sweat & Tears won at the FictionPress Supernatural Awards for Best Non-Mainstream Character! How awesome is that?! I'm whigging out. This is unbelievable. But still totally awesome in every account.
I'm fish sitting for my sister's pet beta fish, Bubbles. He's okay. I think my mom is trying to over feed him though. Gotta watch her and hide the fish food . . .
Fresh in the love (or something like it) scene, one of the students from my mom's school is texting and calling me. This relationship is doomed, but hey. Maybe I can at least make a friend out of him? We'll see. Also, I've been hanging out with my bestie and her friend from orchestra, Max. This basically is the equivalent to some seriously fun times. But after we hang out, I'll get a call from my friend saying that he couldn't stop staring at my eyes and that he said I give really good hugs. Which is weird because I don't give good hugs at all. And I have really bright green eyes, but people get used to them after awhile. So hopefully this wont become problematic because I really do like us being a trio. Reminds me of Harry Potter.
And guess who has to take zero exams? ME! I just barely managed to slip by U.S. History with an 85 (and the cut off is 85). But no tests for me! yay! All I've got left to do is finish my palate knife painting (based on this picture) and then I'll be done. I do send my condolences though with those of you who do have to take your tests. I am sorry.
I'm gonna fix up my affiliates page and finish writing chapter ten of Define Dead and chapter two of My Life with Jimmy James this coming week. So brace yourselves.
Flying high,
Heart Lace
P.S.
I know I've not plugged this site enough, so here's my plug for it. The Tough and Dirty Newsletter is basically the bee's knees. It's got articles and reviews, not to mention an extreamly helpful question and answer section. Plus I'm on the staff! I'm a FictionPress reviewer! My first article appeared in this latest issue (issue number three), in which I reviewd Paradise: Dreamland by Lady Glass. So check it out and let me or the site know what you think! And be sure to subscibe to the newsletter!
Have fun!
Time ;; 9:08 P.M.
Tunes ;; Anyone Else but You - the Moldy Peaches
Mood ;; Okay
Adore ;; Feeling anything
Dislike ;; Bird houses
Read ;; The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (again)
Super update, anyone?
I'm painting bird houses for my mom and my sister's mother in-law. Hence the first icon of paint brushes.
Define Dead has a new chapter out. It's chapter nine, for anyone who's counting. And chapter ten is the bees knees so far. Percy is such an emotional train wreck. In that loveable dead guy sort of way.
I rode my bike today and realized just how out of shape I really am. I live in a retirement home and I couldn't even get down the street without going pace of a snail wadding through extra chuncky peanut butter. And then my asthma started acting up. Such fun times.
I actually feel okay about life right now. I feel comfortable finally around my peers and am passing (yes even algebra) all of my classes (with two weeks left of school). I'm writing and writing my first romantic comedy since that long ago fanfiction which I don't see why it must be named . . . anyways, this new series is about my freshman year in high school, true events, my friends, me, and a former love interest. Hey, I went throug Hell with that relationship and that year. I figure I might as well milk a story out of it. The link's on my stories page.
And my best friend has been playing the violin since she was four, I think. Anyways, she had a solo in front of a good hundred people and rocked it like sedimentary. I'm so proud of her.
WITH CURRENTLY SEVEN FULL SCHOOL DAYS AND THREE HALF SCHOOL DAYS LEFT,
Heart Lace