Thursday, October 24, 2013

WRI-TING!!!




 http://media.wbur.org/wordpress/16/files/2013/07/0703_writing_cog.jpg



What was your first-ever piece of writing?
To be brutally honest, I believe it was a one-page story about a young boy that becomes best friends with a wolf. I must have written it when I was barely old enough to know what the word "dialogue" or "paragraph" meant. Once upon a time, I had no inspiration whatsoever to become a writer. Now here I am, working my way through a novel.

How old were you when you first began writing?
I must have been barely fourteen when I gave writing a real shot. It was a story inspired by, of all things, a cartoon off Nick Jr. Don't even ask what it is. Ever since then, I've been trying harder and harder to make my writing better by starting a novel and striving to finish it. I don't know if I will make writing into a career or not.

Name two writing goals. One short term & one long term.
Short term: finish at least one of my fanfictions. Long term: finish my novel. It will have well over a hundred chapters in total and I'm stuck on Chapter Sixteen. BLEEEEEEHHHHH

Do you write fiction or non-fiction?
Mainly fiction, but non-fiction is in my writing ability, just on the edge.

Bouncing off of question 4, what’s your favorite genre to write in?
Off the top of my head I would say that my best writing strength is fantasy. It is so much fun to discover new races and characters with weird names to accompany them, and strange but amusing stories of ancient villains, rookie heroes, and annoying little fairies that follow the main characters around. I love it!

One writing lesson you’ve learned since 2013 began.
If you're writing about two characters falling in love, MAKE SURE THEY ACTUALLY TALK TO EACH OTHER TRUTHFULLY!!! If both or one of the characters never says what they mean, then there will never be anything real between them. I discovered this through reading the first few chapters of Twilight.

Favorite author, off the top of your head!
Cornelia Funke! I love Inkheart!

Three current favorite books.
A Series of Unfortunate Events Book 1 by Lemony Snicket, Resistance by Elian Lisette, and The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster.

Biggest influence on your writing {person}:
My big sister, definitely! Her beautiful way of putting things inspired me so much to invent my own stories and to weave my own words to see if I can become a writer like her. I admire her writing so much.

What’s your go-to writing music?
Mainly The Nutcracker Suite by Tchaikovsky. Those gorgeous Christmas melodies bring out the best of my words.

List three to five writing quirks of yours! Little habits, must-haves as you write, etc.
I like to drink coffee or have a spoonful of Nutella before, during, or after I write! I call them "brain food". I also like to browse through some pictures of whatever I am going to write before I get to it so I can get the gears of my brain consistently turning. And quirk #3: the only place I can write is on my bed in my little pillow cove. Truly, it is the only place.

What, in three sentences or less, does your writing mean to you?
The words that flow from my fingertips mean that I can express myself in a way that only I know how, and they bring a sort of immortality to my being. I am fascinated by the art of painting pictures with little lines that create letters, creating words, creating stories. I do not know if this will become my future profession, but I know that I love it, and as long as I can, my soul will be unleashed into words. 

http://poeticfool.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/writing.jpg

Saturday, October 19, 2013

My Homecoming Nightmare

Last night, the night of Homecoming at my local school, was, by far, the worst night of my life.



It was an autumn evening worthy of a painting.  A brisk chill hung heavily in the air like mist on a cold winter morning, and the ultramarine sky was speckled with glimmering stars and pale gray clouds.  There was no wind, no snow, and no rain.  For the people of Flambeau in northwestern Wisconsin, it was the perfect night for a football game.

As I stepped out of my dad’s black truck and onto the pavement with an excited smile on my face, I could hear the half-time show starting on the track.  The mindless chatter of football fans in the bleachers could be heard from the other side of the school.  The concessions stand was packed with customers.  The air was chilly but not bitter, and it felt good to be out in that perfect autumn night.  I was at the school with my dad.  We planned on hanging out at the game until eight-thirty, when the Homecoming dance would begin.  It was the only reason I had come at all.

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The football game was predictable.  I barely paid any attention to the bulky boys in jerseys romping about in the muddy, dew-covered field like a pack of warthogs.  I had never understood football, and had no interest in watching the entire game.  Somehow, I had wandered over to the concessions stand to find something to sustain me for the rest of the night, but nothing caught my appetite.  So, with the pale, silent moon peeking out from a crack in the clouds like a shy child, I pulled out my pen and my sketchpad from my purse.  Without further ado, I quickly sketched a picture of the moonlight.  A few people saw me sketching and asked if I was a senior.  I simply said that I was a freshman, and all they did was chatter to each other like squirrels and walk away, their hot chocolate and hotdogs in hand.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d3/MoonClouds.JPG

By the time that eight-thirty rolled around the clock, my dad and I made our way to the main door of the school.  I found a safe place for my coat, scarf, gloves, and purse in the girls’ bathroom, where all the other girls left their stuff.  I was in a frilly purple dress and black leggings; a simple but cute outfit.  I got a few compliments on my dress and my eyes, which were pasted with sticky mascara and dark magenta eye shadow.  The dance barely started when I came in the gym.

As soon as I saw it, I fell in love.  All the ceiling lights were dimmed, and there was a DJ in the corner, which was run by someone I recognized.  I was about to go say hi to see if he remembered me, but he looked busy so I did not want to bother him.  There were little lights in blue, green, and pink dancing across the high ceiling, the white brick walls, and the shining floor.  A popular song with strong bass was playing, but the gym was empty.

I was one of the only people there at the moment.  A few other girls were there, one of whom I knew, and they were already dancing to the full-bass pop songs I knew nothing of.  They swung their hips about and were laughing, but I just stood there.  I felt so awkward and quiet.  Normally I would quickly approach someone I did not know and begin to converse with them, so I would always make new friends.  However, whenever I did make a new friend, that person would always go back to their circle of the friends they knew much longer than they knew me.

I felt invisible.

http://cdn.vectroave.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/Photography-The-Invisible-Man-2-600x600.jpg

 When the field went silent and the football lights dimmed, most of the high schoolers changed into their dresses and button-down shirts in the bathrooms, eventually herding themselves into the gym.

Yes! I thought to myself triumphantly.  Now the real party’s about to start!

Little did I know that there would be no party.  At least not for me.

Occasionally, I showed a familiar face that I could do the moonwalk that Michael Jackson used to do, and they were dually impressed, but it would disappear within a moment.  I turned into a wisp of air.  The triumphant seniors, the excited juniors, the silent sophomores, and the foolish freshmen were all mixed into their little circles of chattering, having fun, and dancing the night away.  I felt glad that there were lots of people at the dance now, because now would be my chance to fit in and have fun.  A few girls I knew from one of my classes were in one thick circle during a party song, and I flitted over to join them in the dance.

But whenever I would bend down to pick up a rose, its vicious thorns would frighten me away.

Every circle I approached would close whenever I was near.

There were a few songs that taught the dance as the lyrics went on, and everyone got to get in that, and I used my special flexibility and rhythm skills to stand out like a star.  When the song told you to stomp your right foot, everyone just lifted it and put it back down again, but I actually followed the lyrics and I stomped.  When the song told me to slide to the left, I slid.  When it told me to dance real smooth, I was snapping my fingers and twirling about, my feet light against the floor.

Still, as wonderful as I probably looked, nobody cared to look at me.

The slow dances were both the worst and the best.  While the girls held their boyfriends and the boys held their girlfriends in slow, tiny steps across small circles in the gym, I often sat off to the side, waiting for a single boy to ask me to dance.  But I knew, from somewhere deep inside, that those days were over.  I then realized that the number one rule of high school is that you can’t be single.

So, with nobody to dance with, I turned to my imagination.


http://sociophobicme.files.wordpress.com/2013/02/tumblr_lzodt0lhpd1rntfuho1_500.jpg


On a little table by the DJ, there are a few notepads where high schoolers can request a song by writing down the name and the artist.  I wrote down “The Waltz of the Snowflakes, Tchaikovsky” three different times, and they did not play it.  They said before that they played any kind of music, and I could only assume that ballet music was included, but even so, I never heard that song that night.

Thus, my mind was my only escape from the hell I had thought would be heaven.  Closing my eyes and letting my arms hang loosely at my sides, I concentrated on the familiar Christmas tunes that I had grown up listening to every winter, and I allowed it to fill me up.  I put my hands in the air as if I was about to dance with a gentleman.  The Waltz of the Snowflakes, with me being the only one hearing it and dancing it, was the most beautiful thing I had ever experienced.  My steps were light and wide across the floor, gliding between and around the slowly moving couples in a tangled line of snowy magic.  I felt as if it was winter, like I was waltzing with the Prince of Winter himself.

http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/02424/enbnutcracker_2424803b.jpg

I lifted my chin high, continuing to spin in sync with the waltz I heard so clearly.  The Winter Prince held me gently, one hand on my hip and another on my side.  Our steps were perfectly synchronized across the magical snowy place we were dancing in.  Often I would look up at his lovely face; his soulful, dark eyes so contrasted to his pale skin, his short silver locks that frayed this way and that, and the gentle smile that played on his perfect lips.  He was smiling at me.

I let out a gasp of delight.  Here I was, dancing with the Prince of Winter to the most beautiful music in the world, silver and blue surrounding me in ice and snow, and nobody could tear us apart now.  Winter had found me on that picturesque autumn night.

Until, to my dismay, the song ended.  The waltz with the Winter Prince was only in my mind.

As another pop song began and the high schoolers around me excitedly squealed because a popular song was playing, I just stood there in the middle of the dance floor, the blue, green, and pink lights bouncing onto my flushed face.  Nobody had seen that I was dancing a different dance.  Nobody had seen that I was dancing with the air.  Nobody cared to know that I was alone.  The lights, as beautiful as they were, were like a mocking reminder that I would always be alone.  Looking at those girls that were either kissing or dancing with their boyfriends, I felt jealous of them.  For a single moment, I wanted a boyfriend of my own.

But deep down, I knew that if you open the rose too early, the petals will fall off.

And so, after a few more winter waltzes in my head and more popular, catchy songs were being danced to in the gym, I had had enough.  I looked expectantly at the door, and sure enough, there was my dad, standing there in the light I craved so much.

All I wanted was to get out of there.

On the way home, I talked to my dad about the whole thing.  He felt so sorry for me and was completely willing to listen to my angry and sad rants, but after ten minutes, there was nothing more to be said.  I was so tired from waltzing about with nobody to support me, and I wanted to sleep.

When we got home, I cried into my dad’s shoulder in the kitchen.  It felt awful to be invisible, like you were not even there, like you never existed.  My dad insisted that the boys didn’t know what they were missing when they passed up the chance to dance with a beauty such as me.  I love my dad, and I’m very happy that he is always there for me, but part of me still wanted to dance the night away with the Winter Prince.  I missed him, and I still do.

When I crawled into my bed and began to type out what you are reading now, my older sister knocked on the door to my room, and we chatted for a while about the dance, movies, and breaking the fourth wall in stories.  As usual when I chat with my sister at night, we struggle to keep our laughs quiet.  Eventually, when midnight rolled around, she left with a smile and a simple good night, turning off my bedroom light and closing the door.  I continued to type, and within an hour I had finished what your eyes are scanning right this minute.

I feel better about this whole thing, now that I crashed it all out on this post, but the sting of the rose's thorns are still there.  Somehow I know that there will be social circles I will never be able to break.  Somehow I know that I will always be different.  But you know what?  That's okay.  It's okay to be different.  Nothing can change who I am.


http://www.reallygoodthinking.com/images/pink%20girl%20standing%20out%20in%20crowd.jpg

That is all.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Ocean Dust introductions

Guten Abend, mein Freunde! Es ist sehr nett, wenn es regnet, nein?

Yes, I speak a bit of German. Just another thing that makes me proud to be different!

Anyways, for this post, I want to give a sneak-peek of the leading characters in my novel, Ocean Dust, which, if you read the last post, has recently been put on hold by a severe writer's block. Blocks like this can be very depressing, and I find that drinking coffee, drawing kawaii things, and watching a few episodes of my favorite TV show grant at least some comfort when I can't get the right words out.

Here are some basic introductions to my six main characters. Yes, six.

1) Malcolm Brackenbury
 This is the main star of Ocean Dust: a 47-year-old (and easily irritable) bounty hunter with a shady past filled with regrets. He has a sixteen-year-old daughter eager to spread her wings and a heart that is ready for change. He lives in a very darkened, corrupted society where the rich only think of themselves, the poor struggle to survive, and the middle-class don't even care.

Malcolm Brackenbury (Pictured as Viggo Mortensen)

2) Marcelle Brackenbury
This young adult is the daughter of a shady bounty hunter, and she has no idea that both his and her past are ones that are better forgotten. She knows a bit of self-defense and is very good with gadgets. She, having been protected from the real world all her life, has no idea what to expect when she and her father encounter a secret colony of fairies. Little does she know what a wonderful and perilous play she will act in.

Marcelle Brackenbury (Pictured as Emma Stone)
 3) Faolan Everjade
This fairy is also a young adult. Having just reached the age where he may court a young woman, he is immediately smitten with Marcelle from the moment he first sees her. He is a very sweet and considerate person, always ready to meet anyone's needs. However, he is rather oblivious to what happens where humans live and is not sure how to handle this brand new feeling of love.


Faolan Everjade (Pictured as Tom Hiddleston)

4) Hana Yoshida
As a cross between a Ninja and a Samurai (a Ninjarai to be exact), she has seen much of the darkness that lurks in the world and is fully aware that it is in desperate need of restoration. She only speaks when it is absolutely necessary, and she is easily thrown into a bad mood, but has a good heart. It is not seen in the photo below, but she has a mechanical eye that she created from gears and tiny metal scraps, and it grants her many things that normal people could only dream of possessing. She is a friend of England's princess.




Hana Yoshida (image found on Google Images)
 5) Princess Victoria Langridge
This fifteen-year-old princess is much like the free-spirited princesses we hear in those classic tales; she has untouchable gumption to get a taste of the world she lives in, she has a cheerful and strong heart, and she hungers for adventure. When she, her butler, and her friend Hana get pulled into an adventure like no other, Victoria's bubbly personality starts to get her into trouble beyond her wildest dreams.

Princess Victoria Langridge (Pictured as Emma Watson)
 6) Miltford Tuppleman
This character is Victoria's butler. He is the most incompetent butler in all of England. He is supposed to be the princess' bodyguard, but he is so clumsy and clueless that often he needs more saving than her. Victoria has no idea how he became her butler, but he is very loyal to her and would do anything for his mistress. The only thing he is good at is making a lovely cup of tea.
Miltford Tuppleman (Pictured as Jude Law)

Well, there you have it. The introductions to my characters! I am still developing the bells and whistles of my book as it goes along so please excuse the sloppiness if I end up publishing the chapters! Please let me know if you have any questions.

And look! A while ago, back when my old name was Kat Haz Kolorz, a fanfiction of mine GOT A FREAKING FAN ART!!!!! Click HERE to see it.


Ta-ta, darlings! Sleep well!

First Post

Hi! My name is Snowprincess. First of all, you do not need to call me your majesty. I'm just another human. Currently I am working on a novel, but I'm hopelessly stuck in Chapter 16. The book is called Ocean Dust and it is a crossover between the 1890's and fantasy. If I do decide to publish the chapters on my blog, please expect lots of delays. I get stuck in my writing very easily!

As you can see on the side of my blog I have some very odd obsessions. My total list of obsessions include as follows:

  • Lord of the Rings (Legolas <3 <3 !!!)
  • Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji (Red and black forever!!)
  • Gravity Falls
  • Stickerzzz
  • Cupcakes!
  • Doodles, doodles, doodles
  • KAWFEEE <3 <3 <3
  • GIMP
    I am currently watching a few animes. Some go slower than others, some I can't get enough of. Here is the list:

    • Black Butler/Kuroshitsuji
    • Higurashi
    • InuYasha
    • Chobits
    Well this is basically all you need to know about me at the moment. I hope I have made myself clear to you. 

    Ta-ta, darlings! Have a fabulous day.