Time and Time Again

So there are 56 days, counting today, until the Backspace Writers Conference in NYC. And my WIP is in serious need of polishing. That is what I'm going to be working on for the next few weeks, aka that is the only thing that is going to take up my time. Well aside from prom dress shopping that is.

But I was wondering how do you guys push through the slush. You know the feeling that you just can't work through, when you feel like your writing sucks or you don't know how to work past the current pesty block that makes you want to scream and yank your hair out (I've been tempted) so how do you work past it, time and time again?

That's it short and sweet, off to watch Bones (I so totally called the Sweets ending before it actually happened) and Greys Alex/Izzie one of my biggest ships and it's over. I almost cried. The only loss of a ship that could be worse would be Tony/Ziva, I think I'd have to cry myself to sleep. I love that pair.

Anywho, I did well enough on the SATs one of my friends got a 2060 I'm so jealous. But I got over a 1600 so that was good, it should make it easier to get into the few schools I've seriously looked at so far.

Absence

So because of some events that are good (the "yeah" that literally made my week!) events and looming dates, I have to take a tiny break from blogging and focus on school. Again. I'm getting my SATs back soon, and will most likely be preparing to take them again in May. Grades close in the next month so I have to get them pulled up and polished. I also have to get a lot of writing/editing done if I'm ever going to finish my current WIP on time (seeing as I've already blown off one of my deadlines for it and changed something major in the plot) for the Backspace Conference in NYC that I'm going to *Turnsverypaleswayspercariously*. I'm nervous can you tell?

Okay now that I've taken a deep breath, to continue...so all this means that there will be a blog posting hiatus. I won't lie, I've fallen victim to not writing by posting or commenting because I feel less guilty for not writing, if I'm on here. I love posting and commenting it's addicting. So for the time being, though I'll still be reading blogs occasionally, I'll only be posting/commenting once a week. I think for now Mondays are going to be the sanctioned days for said posts/comments but I don't really know. It all depends what goes down.

This is just a temporary goodbye to the blogsphere. I'll miss you guys for the six days a week I'm not allowing myself on here, but I know that this is whats best for my writing, oh and school. Though really I'm more concerned about my writing. Bad Hayley, I know.

I'll be back soon *tear*. And you guys thanks for all the great comments on my fiftieth post and all the encouraging words involving my nerves. You're awesome.

50 Questions!

So this is post number 50, celebrating 51 followers (thank you Lila!) and answering questions! And I decided to finally post a pic of myself so you guys can have a face with a name!

Ready?


You sure.....


Okay...


Here goes...

Sorry, the photo is kind of blurry cell phone camera, you know? Anywho I asked you guys what you wanted to know and here's what you asked.

K.M. wanted to know:

If time travel were a possibility, where would go in time and why? This is a loaded question. I wish my answer was sophisticated and more intelligent but it's not. It's actually a selfish answer. I would only want to go back in time to change things. Not just watch. There are two points in time where I would like to go, the first is back five years ago, I mean you guys have all heard my piece about that. Basically I would stop her from getting in that car. Even if tire slashing was required. The other place in time I'd go would be back ten years to stop little young seven year old me from ruining her friendship. I learned the outcome of that the hard way. I wish I'd learned it earlier on, with a friendship that meant less to me. But that didn't happen. I would go back in time and stop myself from making something that I consider to be one of the biggest mistakes of my life. I know changing those things would alter my life as it is now, because both have affected me a lot in the past few years. So if I could do all of this, I'd like to keep the knowledge I gained from these expiriences because they have been key in shaping who I've become. Frankly, if I couldn't I'd still change what happened anyways, because I would still love writing, I'd still want to get published, that wouldn't change. And that is what I think I couldn't live without. But I could be wrong, we'll never know.

Portia wanted to know:

When you're sick or feeling blue or just needing inspiration, what book do you reach for? The Harry Potter series. I know that's got to be cliché, but the first book was the first novel I ever read all by myself. And they inspired me to write, so whenever I'm feeling really down I always know that Harry, Ron and Hermione will be right there for me. So I always reach for HP it's safe.

VR asked:

What is your favorite thing you've written and why? Favorite thing I've ever written? That really is a hard one! I'd have to say it's the scene in He's With Me where Mitch dies. Morbid? Yes. But it's one of the scenes I'm the proudest of, and I wrote it as a short story so it has enough strength to stand alone outside the WIP.

Piedmont Writer asked:

If you were stranded on a desert island and could only take three books with you, what would they be? Not fair. Okay three books? HP 3 and 7. As stated above I'm especially attached to these books. As for book number three, this is a hard one, I wish my answer would be a little more sophisticated but it's not. I'd choose Perfect Chemistry because every time I read it I'm consumed with giggles and it's really romantic. I'm a hopeless romantic so you see the appeal here.

Kat asked:
Do you listen to music while writing? If so, what do you listen to? Yes, sometimes. And it depends what's on the radio, the TV what my iPod turns on. Mostly it's country, or sad music. I like sad music ballads and stuff, which I know sounds depressing but it's what I like.

And what made you decide to purse writing/publishing? What made me come to that decision? I love writing, and it just seemed like the natural course to take. I really don't know, I guess someone asked me about it one day and I just said "Yeah I'll get published eventually." And thus began my goal. When that happened, I don't really know, I've wanted to get published since I was in about fifth grade, so it must have happened sometime around then.

Lisa and Laura asked:
How do you find time to write and go to school? Are you as overbooked as the other 17-year-olds we know? And go to school? Psh, I write during class. My teachers think I'm the most diligent note taker. Kidding, kidding, well kind of. Honestly I'm a bad balancer. I don't really find the time, I'm learning I have to make it myself, it's really hard. I'm not overbooked per-se, I only participate in a couple clubs and I don't do sports, and sadly am currently unemployed. However I do occasionally get swamped with school work, and do have a little tiny issue with procrastination that I'm working on. So to answer the question in short, I have no idea.

Uh that's all I'm off to talk myself through these really tight nerves coiled in my lower stomach that are starting to make me hyperventilate with anxiety because I've decided to ask cute French class boy to prom, as friends, tomorrow (I was going to do it today but I didn't get the chance) and I'm nervous. I'm like twitching and almost crying and nauseous. I'm going to do it though. I am.

50! Kind-of-ish

Now my blog title is very interesting, okay it's not really that interesting it's just a number but I was hoping it would grab a little attention. I mean words grab attention but numbers do too right? Okay honestly, a creative title eluded me so a number seemed fitting.

The reason for this post is, I have 50 followers! Whoot! This is really big for me, knowing fifty people who aren't linked to me through family are following me, caring at least a little about what I think otherwise why bother to click the little follow button right? Okay, so maybe I'm over thinking it a little,whatever! I have fifty followers *squee*!!!!!!!!!

So in celebration of my fifty followers, thank you Jen for being follower number 50, yes I did tear up and almost cry from happiness. I'm just so honored that fifty people actually take time to maybe sometimes look at my blog. But back to the in celebration part, seeing as I'm temporarily unemployed (working on the new years goals people working on it), so giveaways are out of the question right now all money is being put in the college or emergency sustenance fund. But I figured a questionnaire would be appropriate, no? I mean you guys invest your time in reading and commenting so the least I could do would be to answer any questions you had. Is that cool?

Yes, no? Because my fiftieth post is my next post and in celebration of fifty followers at fifty posts answering questions seems reasonable. So just leave whatever questions you have in the comments and we'll see if this works out. If not I'll have to wing it.

Oh and one more thing. Thank you guys for following me, I really am honored you do. ^-^

PG Love Scene

I'm totally jumping on the boat late for this, but in my defense I didn't hear about the PG Love Scene Blogfest until earlier tonight. I really wanted to do it and then had to figure out how. I'm definetly a fade to black kind of girl, so I decided to take a pair of my favorite characters and wing it. This may be a little cliché, please bear with me and everything. I'm sorry this is late, and really long, but I just had to participate!

So here goes...

*******

Her bedroom was lit only by a bedside lamp; it cast dim shadows across the bed, and the walls. The reasonably sized space looked like it would belong to a twelve year old girl, not the seventeen year old one that lay curled in the bed. Her cropped black hair pooled out under her head like a sheet of ebony satin, her pale skin all but glowed in the darkness. She wasn't the normal size of a seventeen year old, years of internal struggle had reduced her to a small figure nestled in the covers of the bed, trembles ricocheting through her body.

A boy about her age was wide awake in an arm chair next to the bed. Sleep weighed down on his eyes and every few moments he shook his head, he didn’t want to fall asleep in case she needed him. He glanced at her, stretching as he moved in the chair that had, in the past few months, almost become a part of his body. His blue eyes focused on her through the darkness, he ran a hand through his hair. It hurt to watch her in pain, and she'd taken her meds that night. He stood up and looked away from her, hands on his head as he walked over to the cork board she’d hung on her wall years ago. He needed to stay awake.

The board was caught in darkness, the pictures looked faded in the half light. They occupied all the photos as children, one was of them dressed as bride and groom, from kindergarten when they’d pretended to get married. Her long black hair had been pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, with large wide doe brown eyes, the ring he’d given her had been too big and so they’d threaded it through with a piece of string and put it around her neck.

There was a picture of them, around age seven, with birthday cake smeared on their faces; they were sticking their tongues out at the camera grinning like little fools. Another picture was of them on the last day of sixth grade, the year she’d left. He was standing behind her arms around her waist, chin on her shoulder, both were grinning at the camera, happy. Her black hair hung freely, down to her waist, and his brown hair stood up in a hundred different directions. Even then he’d been so much taller than she was. They’d never known what was coming.

“Demetri!” his name was just a tiny whimper, but it sounded pained as though she was trying to scream, but couldn’t find the strength. He spun towards her, his heart thundering in his chest. She sat up her hands shaking as she gasped for air, he could see the tears as they poured from under her closed lids.

“Zo,” he was at her side before she could utter anything else. “Zoie, what’s wrong?” his fingers traced her face, carefully wiping away the tears with his coarse fingertips. Her bottom lip trembled, but she didn’t answer.

“Zo,” his voice was steady patient, she never liked taking more meds even if it was what she needed. He ran a hand through her hair, and then rubbed it in circles along her back.

“What’s wrong? What hurts? Do I need to call Alyssa and Luc?” she shook her head, taking a deep breath before she opened her big brown eyes. He climbed up into the bed next to her.

“No, I’m fine, don’t call them. They’re on a date. It’s a long needed break.” Her voice shook.

“Then what’s wrong.” He asked as she tucked her head into the crook of his neck, threading her arms around his waist, he pulled her close.

“It was a nightmare.” She cried, biting his shirt in an attempt to stop her tears. “You-you died.” He could almost see the sick humor in it, the irony, he didn’t laugh, though one threatened to bubble up inside him.

“Before me,” her words stopped the chuckle cold. He stroked her hair, placing her into his lap as he kissed her temple again and again.

“Demetri, I— I want to ask you something.”

“Shoot, Zo.” She leaned forwards pressing her warm lips to his ear. Her voice was surprisingly steady for what she was asking, but musical. He held her tight, his eyes widened as she spoke, and his heart jumping into his throat. Of course he wanted to, she was Zoie, his Zoie, but he couldn’t. Once she was done asking she looked at him from the top of her large eyes, he’d never said no to that look, and rested her head onto his chest again.

“You’re sick.” Demetri whispered as though it was an answer, stroking her hair as he cradled her against his chest. He'd said no to her once before, and he wasn't sure he could say it again.

“I know,” she replied, her lips pressed against the fabric of his t-shirt. “Brain tumors aren’t contagious though. It wouldn’t hurt you.”

“But it’ll hurt you.” Zoie pulled away from his chest to look at him, her deep brown eyes determined.

“I’m not afraid,” she pulled even further away from him, turning to look at the cork board running her hands through her short black hair. As she turned away from him he could just make out the seven blue dots at the base of her skull. He hated those damned spots, he thought they were cute because they were a part of her, but he hated them, hated what they meant to him, to her.

“Of course not. But we still aren’t—”

“I’m sick; it’s not a reason not to.” She muttered curling up next to him again.

“It’s all the reason not to.”

“I’m dying Demetri.” Her words stung, she’d said them before, he’d said them before but the way she was using them now. It hurt. He only wanted to make her happy to give her reason to keep fighting. Even though it was hopeless, every day he could feel her slipping away more and more.

“I know.” His voice caught and he kissed the top of her head fiercely as tears welled in his eyes.

“So I can’t do that.” He blinked the tears away as he said it.

“But you love me?”

“Always Zo, always.”

“Then do this for me. Please? While I can still see you, while I can still be aware, while I’m still alive. Please? I want this, I want you.” She sounded so defeated, and he had barely been able to refuse her before, and now he was emotionally drained and sleep deprived. How could he muster the ability to say no now? He wanted it just as much as she did, he just didn’t want it this way. He knew this would be the only chance they’d get; the only chance she'd get.

He wasn’t one to believe in miracles. Even though he wanted to.

He responded by reaching over and moving her bangs across her face. Tucked them behind her ear, and cupped her face in his hand, before bending his head down to kiss her. His lips were a little dry, but she didn't seem to mind kissing him back, her soft lips compressing against his with just as much hunger and force. She lifted his shirt over his head, as he unbuttoned her top.

When he was positioned over her, he mumbled words that sounded like “I don’t want to hurt you” “Tell me if I hurt you, I’ll stop”. But as he moved, she moved with him, when she cried out he talked her through it, kissed her harder and did whatever he could to keep her mind off whatever pain he was putting her through. His hands explored every curve of her body, and hers roamed freely over his chest and back. Pleasure pulsed through them, it was as though they'd finally become one. The connection that had pulled them together their entire lives was solidified, hosting two people as one. Everything felt right, for once.

After, she’d curled up next to him, her breathing steady a smile spread across her mouth, her bangs dampened with sweat. He reached up and brushed them off her brow, before putting his hand back behind his head.

“I love you.” she whispered, tucking her head into the crook of his arm. “Thank you, that was…perfect.”

“I love you so much Zo and I’m—”

“Do not apologize for giving me the most wonderful night ever.” She propped herself up on her arm, so she could look him in the eye.

“I don’t regret it, I’ll never regret it. Promise me you’ll never regret it too.”

“I promise Zoie. I’ll never regret it.” it was the truth; he had wanted it just as much as she had, though he felt guilty like they’d done it because she was sick. He wouldn’t regret the time he spent with her, ever.

“It was what I wanted.” She paused as she traced her fingers along his chest. “I’m going to miss your eyes.”

“I love you Zo.” His voice caught in his throat, he hated it when she talked like this. She bent down and kissed him.

“Just when— when I can’t see.” She took a deep breath, looking away from him as her fingers struggled to re-button her pajama blouse. He resisted the urge to help her, because he knew she'd be offended that he was treating her like a child after everything they'd just done.

“Don’t leave me.”

“That’s not fair. I’m never going to leave you, never. Please don’t talk like that.”

Zoie nodded, and tucked her head back into the crook of his arm. He could feel her shivering and pulled the blankets tighter around her, kissing her head, then her mouth, as she settled into his arms.

“I love you,” he whispered as she slipped into a deep sleep.

When Alyssa and Luc came home they found Zoie and Demetri cuddled together under Zoie’s covers. Alyssa smiled, reminded of the time when they had been children, best friends attached at the hip and everything had been so much simpler. She trusted them, knew that nothing beyond cuddling would occur, and besides Demetri had needed to get out of that godforsaken armchair and get some sleep. Alyssa tiptoed into the room and turned off her baby sister’s lamp.

*******

And the verdict is? Hate it? Love it? Cliché? Please enlighten me!

Eyes

So there is this line you hear it a lot, or at least I do. "The eyes are windows to the soul" call me cheesy, because a part of me really believes this. I mean of course some people have been absolutely evil but have had nice eyes for example H.H. Holmes, a raging psychomaniac, who terrorized the Chicago World fair during and before the 1890s. But I digress...

The point of this post is to one, talk about my odd love of eyes. You've heard me make reference to this cute kid in one of my classes who has the most clear blue eyes I've like ever seen and his best friend has eyes like an "icy moss"(I reluctantly quote Sashi, we are in the middle of an argument). So eyes are pretty. Yeah.

But I was wondering if everyone else puts as much thought into the eye color of their characters as I do. Because I think about it a lot before I make a decision. Like for Mitch, I wanted his eyes to be welcoming and warm so he got a nice hazel, and Darren he's new and fresh and bright. He's what Kali needs. So he of course gets minty green eyes. Kali, she was spunky and spontaneous and her eyes had to reflect that change, hence the blue (I also wanted them to stand out against her dark brown hair) which if you know anyone with blue eyes reflect the owners feelings like they're written across their face. Seriously I have blue eyes and when I'm happy they're really bright and when I'm sad they're really cloudy.

Then Declan he was brooding and dark, but I wanted Ashlyn to be able to see the beauty in his eyes anyways so he got grey eyes. I also wanted Ashlyn's eyes to be something Declan could see all over the place, hence her golden eyes. He can't avoid the sun you know?

So back to the original question, does anyone else focus on the eyes like this? Or really any other aspect of your characters appearance, because you think it reflects their personality? I'm just wondering if I'm the only one.

Fried Brains....And A Secret Letdown....

SATs have fried my brain. I'm so exhausted.

However they weren't half as hard as I thought they were going to be...I think I should have omitted way more questions than I did...

I'm like curl up in a ball and sleep for a week tired, but I guess that's what happens when you wake up at FOUR AM even though you don't have to be up for another two hours but you can't fall back to sleep. And then you have to test for over three hours.

So in my last post, for number 4 I believe said "I have a secret about school...I can't stand it" this was slightly misinterpreted as I had a secret I really wanted to tell. I just meant it as the secret is though I put on a fun face for family and friends I can't stand school. So because I mislead lots of you, I'm really really sorry, I decided to post about secret I have relating to school...ready? You are warned, I'm sorry if this is a letdown.

I'm not so sure I want to go to college, this is a big one. My entire life college has been in the plans, I know I have to go but I'm not sure I want to. I also know that if I take a year off though I may never go back.

I got a chance to change middle schools because we had a new one built in our town. My bestie(Zippy) was going, and it was a smaller environment something that would have really helped me. And I didn't go. I sometimes regret this decision and sometimes not, if I hadn't I wouldn't have met my other besties (Sashi, and FrenchFrey) but if I had I would have had a better education.

Scandal alert! One of my teachers(well not mine but one of my friends) got fired(or quit depends who you hear the rumor from) because of this stupid senior prank thing, and I think(based on what I know and rumor) that they were just looking for someone to blame and she was a scapegoat because it would look bad to expel five seniors in the second semester of school. So these guys who vandalized our library, were suspended for three days and aren't allowed to participate in senior activities. They're the kind of kids who don't care about the kind of stuff their now banned from. So the punishment isn't even that big a deal. I just think they wanted to blame the teacher, she didn't know what they were going to do. Most of the rumors I heard substantiate that they took the keys from her, and didn't give them back. Yeah she was wrong to put her trust in those kids but everyone makes mistakes like that sometimes.

I haven't done a shred of homework at home, like real sit down and work for a couple hours work, for my entire high school career. Projects are obviously a different story. My younger sister works harder than I do.

And that's really it, not very scrumptious as far as secrets go. You know what I'll try to think of better ones for a post later on. Maybe if you guys have secret spurring questions I may think of more...sorry.

But anyhow my brain is fried so I'm going out for pizza and then I'm going to sleep until like noon tomorrow.