New Years': All Good Things...

All good things must come to an end, and 2013 is no exception. Despite the fact that it's unlucky number thirteen, it's been a great year for me. Let's look back at all the positive thing that have happened to me this awesome "unlucky" year, the year my writing came back from the dead.

I finished my first novel through NaNoWriMo. This was probably the biggest milestone I've passed in my writing career this year. NaNo really helped me stop procrastinating and start writing. And I have a novel to show for it!
I finally got an email address. As much as I love letters, there's so much you can do with a gmail account....
I started a blog. My first attempt at blogging was this June, when my friend Seriah got this awesome idea to mail Tsarmina back and forth and blog about it. I experimented with my posts and format over there, (Tsarmina's Travels ) and eventually got up the courage to start one all on my own. I think this one's turned out alright-- what do you think?
I (in some miraculous way) made the public school's Junior Varsity basketball team. I'm not sure how this happened-- some work of divine providence, to be sure-- but I'm on the team! Now if I could just make a foul shot to save my life....
I discovered many awesome writing blogs that have helped encourage and improve me at the trade. Here are just a few:
The Write Practice
The Magic Violinist
Rainbow of Words
StorytellerGirl 
Positive Writer
NaNoWriMo Young Writers Program

2013 in one word:

If I believed in luck, I'd say "lucky." But since I don't, I'll say "blessed."

Most played songs:

Love this. Got it from Pinterest.

I'd Lie (Taylor Swift)
Nevermind (Taylor Swift)
There's Your Trouble (Dixie Chicks)
American Honey (Lady Antebellum)
Ain't Easy (Rachel Farley)
Sparks Fly (Taylor Swift)
Permanent Marker (Taylor Swift)
Long Live (Taylor Swift)
Country Girl Shake It For Me (Luke Bryan)
Creepin' (Eric Church)
Little White Church (Little Big Town)
Boondocks (Little Big Town)
Mean (Taylor Swift)
Good Girl (Carrie Underwood)
Mama's Broken Heart (Miranda Lambert)
Honey Bee (Blake Shelton)
Better Than Revenge (Taylor Swift)
Gunpowder and Lead (Miranda Lambert)
Cruise (Florida Georgia Line)
Round Here (Florida Georgia Line)
That's My Kind of Night (Luke Bryan)
International Harvester (Craig Morgan)
Tim McGraw (Taylor Swift)
Enchanted (Taylor Swift)

As you can see, my music taste doesn't vary much. :)

Awesome books read:
Emily of New Moon (L. M. Montgomery)
Emily Climbs (L. M. Montgomery)
Emily's Quest (L. M. Montgomery)
Kilmeny of the Orchard (L. M. Montgomery)
The Blue Castle (L. M. Montgomery)
The Story Girl (L. M. Montgomery)
Rilla of Ingleside (L. M. Montgomery)
The Golden Road (L. M. Montgomery)
Jane of Lantern Hill (L. M. Montgomery)

Okay, so I really like L. M. Montgomery. So what?


Goals for 2014:
Get published.
Work on my blogging skills.
Connect with other writers. I can't do it alone.
Stop using the words "like" "awesome" and"really" so much in my writing. Seriously, it's like really getting on my nerves that I can't stop-- AAARGH I did it again!
Finish edits on As Strange as Snow in September (and work on the title).
Win NaNoWriMo again. This time I'm going to shoot for 60,000 words.
Write. While I'm waiting on getting published and maybe finding an agent, I'll keep improving my writing until it's ready to go out into the world. After all, without the "write" I'd just be an "er."

Have an amazing 2014, everyone!

30 Day Blogging Challenge-- Day 11

Day Eleven: A Picture You Took Recently

This is why you should never break into a house
belonging to one of my family members. They are now
all heavily guarded.

 Um, yeah... my cousins all got weapons for Christmas.

What can I say besides "beware"?

30 Day Blogging Challenge-- Day 9

Hey, remember the 30 Day Blogging Challenge? Of course you don't, it's been a month since I last posted on that! Sorry.

 

Now that the chaotic rush of the holidays is over, I'm going to pick it back up again. So here's how it's going to go, if you've forgotten:

 

Day 1: a favorite song

Day 2: a favorite movie

Day 3: a favorite book

Day 4: a favorite television program

Day 5: a favorite quote

Day 6: a moment you wish you could relive

Day 7: five things you couldn't possibly live without

Day 8: a thank-you letter to someone who has changed your life

Day 9: a photo you took

Day 10: a photo of you taken over ten years ago

Day 11: a photo you've taken recently

Day 12: a song that you want played at your wedding (or was played)

Day 13: a guilty pleasure

Day 14: a vacation you would like to take

Day 15: a person that you admire

Day 16: a song that makes  you cry

Day 17: an art piece

Day 18: a time when you felt passionate and alive

Day 19: a talent of yours

Day 20: a hobby of yours

Day 21: something that you know you do differently than other people

Day 22: a website

Day 23: a way in which you want to be remembered

Day 24: a movie no one would never expect you to love

Day 25: a recipe

Day 26: a childhood memory

Day 27: a physical feature that you love

Day 28: a scar you have and its story

Day 29: hopes, dreams, and plans that you have for the next 365 days

Day 30: a motto or philosophy

 

Well, I'm going to do this Rebecca-style and skip number eight. I'm contrary like that.

 

Day Nine: A Picture You Took

Snow in October.
Interesting, isn't it? Reminds me of Narnia.

I love this picture-- it looks like two seasons merged into one. I took it in October, right after getting home from taking a test with the public-school-ers. It had started snowing during the test, and when we came out of that room, the entrance to the school with the huge glass windows looked like something from a fairytale. The snow just clung to the leaf-covered branches, and everything looked like it had been sculpted out of sparkling white clay, with birds hopping around and passing berries from beak to beak.

 

Day Ten: A Photo of You Taken Over Ten Years Ago

 

Me and my sister Hannah
(I'm the one with hair)

Aren't I adorable? :^)

 

Actually, I think that picture above was from late 2004 (and therefore a year too young to meet the requirements for this blogging challenge), so I posted this one, too:



Me, at the house in Huntington, in the spring of 2003.

Still adorable. :P

 



A Visit From Christmas Past

"The ghost of things that never happened are far worse than the ghosts of those that did,"

-- L. M. Montgomery, Emily's Quest

Today I had a visit from Christmas Past.

Okay, so I was going through this box of things that has been sitting in the corner of my bedroom for years. I was cleaning up my room to make space for the things I got for Christmas (out with the old, in with the new, as they say). And I found some really interesting items. For example: a happy meal toy Bratz doll with no shirt, my long-lost MP3 player, the USB cable to my camera, a cluster of key chains that hung from my backpack my whole third grade year, etc. But the one thing I found that really caught my eye was my first grade notebook.

I've always loved writing. But until the end of my fourth grade year, I didn't save anything I wrote. So this beat-up composition notebook, a collection of my writings at their most primitive stage, caught me by surprise. And it was fun to find a piece of yesterday.

There is everything in that notebook. The first page is a crude picture of a bird in a tree, floating in the midst of what seems to be birdseed. Over this image is my caption, in two-inch tall print,
 I see a blue bird. There are lists in that notebook. There are school assignments, Sunday School notes. More crude drawings. A coloring page of Martin Luther King Jr.'s face that had been pasted there. A free verse poem (I remember despising that assignment. I've always detested free verse). And the first six chapters of my first-ever novel, in which the chapters were one page each and the characters were all named after people I knew. I was laughing out loud at the childish silliness of it-- to think that my days once revolved around this amazing thing that I fancied myself to be doing: writing a bestselling book! Here's the first chapter, exactly as I wrote it at age seven. See what you think:

Princess and the ice Palace:

Chapter 1: Tiffini

Tiffini lived on a farm in Woodsville, Majestial. It was called Majestial because it was beal beautiful, and pleasant. The Prince was very nice, and this is why the country was so beautiful. Tiffini had two sisters who were twins. Rebecca and Isabelle. Their Mother and Father worked hard from sunup to sundown and they only got paid $20.30 a day. The girls helped with the chores wich included: Gathering eggs, cleaning the chickens coup, feeding the animals, cleaning, weeding the garden, and baking. They also had a brother named Timmy who did milking and some other things. They only took baths on Monday, Thursday, and Saturday. The girls only did school on Monday and Friday. They all helped on planting seeds.

Can you believe that was the setting of the stage for my first ever novel? I find it mortifying that I ever wrote something like that. But then again, I was only seven. And I never did write more than six pages (probably a good thing), or even decide on a title. This was because I learned the hard way to "write with the door closed." Other kids my age read over my shoulder and told me how awful it was, and how much like another book they had read. Even the title, Princess and the Ice Palace, they claimed was too much like a movie they'd seen. So I angrily shut the notebook and didn't open it again until now.

And, a few layers of unwanted papers and broken toys above that notebook, there was a paper in that box. This one was more recent. It was a chapter to my yet-unfinished novel, Rachel of Starr Light. Only back then I called it Amanda of Twin Oaks. Here it is, original typos and all.:

Aunt Jane's Romance

Amanda was dusting in the parlor when she found them. The old, yellowing letters stood out from behind the dishes in the chinaware cupboard. Mandie stood on tip-toe to reach them. She pulled them out from behind the blue willow dishes and pulled them down to read. Aunt Naomi would have called her a snoop, but Mandie didn't care. The fat yellow envelopes were calling her. She drew out a letter from the parcel and saw with surprise that they were adressed to Aunt Jane. There was no return address. She opened the letter.
"September 13, 18--
I hope this letter finds you well. I am away in a lawyer's office in Shrewsbury. AS you know, I am studying law in Mr. Blake's home." The letter had a dull beginning. Mandie skipped to the end. The letter was signed, "Yours truly, Robert Kier."
Amanda gasped. Robert Kier! Elsie's father! This is the best piece of news yet! I always wondered if Aunt Jane had a beau. she thought. FOr the rest of the day she itched to tell Elsie. Since today was Saturday, she had to wait until tomorrow to tell her friend. Aunt Naomi didn't allow anyone to go out after suppr.
Amanda sat through church all the next day, wanting for the service to be over. Timmy and his father were there, and that only made Amanda wanto to tell what she had found even more. At last the Reverend stopped speaking and said, "Let us pray." Amanda thought the prayer seemed especially long today. The moment the Reverend said, "Amen," Amanda bolted out the door to wait on the steps for Elsie. Aunt Naomie was socked at the speed with which Amanda left the sanctuary. But she would have to speak to Amanda about it later. Here came Mrs. White now. After what seemed an entirely too long time to Amanda, Elsie finally emerged from the church.
"You broke out of there like the devil himself was behind you," said Elsie. "What's the matter?"
"Ohm nothing in the world is wrong! In fact, Everything is right with the world! Elsie, look at these!" Amanda withdrew one of the letters from her prayerbook. Elsie gasped in excitement. This was one of the letters that had a return address. They started off down the road. Amanda opened the letter. The two friends took turns reading it.
"My dearest Jane," read Elsie dramatically. All is going whell here. My first case is tomorrow. Wish me luck, my love!' My love, indeed! I wonder if he had met Mother yet?"
"I don't know," said Amanda. "There is more in our parlor. I found them while I was dusting."
"But how'd they get there?" Amanda shook her head, making the wavy red hair bounce. "I don't know," she said again. "I don't think they were ever opened."
"But why? If Father loved your aunt Jand, she must have loved him."
"Maybe Aunt Naomi hid them. You know how she likes to be in control."
"Or maybe it was your Aunt Elise. You know, most of the town is talking about how your Aunts think they're the Three Fates." Amanda knew that.
"Let's race to your house and get the rest of the letters!" Elsie suggested. The twosome raced to Twin oaks and slipped up the stairs to the turret room. Amana had hidden the stack of letters under a loose floorboard. She pried it open and pulled out eh yellowed stack of letters. Someone had tied them with a ribbon of forget-me-not blue, which had faded over time. There were about twenty letters in all. Each was written in a fancy Victorian script and had some terrible love poems. Elsi and Amanda took turns reading Mr. Kier's words. Then halfway through Elsie stopped. Amanda frowned. "What's wrong?" Elsie looked down at the letter in her white hand. "I feel like We're making fun of Father," said she.
"I'm sure we're not. There's no one up here to hear us. And what if they got married?" Elsie looked up in surprise.
"If they got married...."
Amanda finished for her. "We'd be related! Let's finish these letters." The newly found matchmakers never got the chance. At that very moment, the front door opened. "They're home! Quick, you're not supposed to be here. I'll help you out the window." Amanda opened the window, which creaked and groaned terribly. Elsie hitched up the skirt of her blue calico, her only nice dress, and slid out the window.
"Come to my house tomorrow after school. If we're going to be matchmakers we need somewhere to plan!" Amanda nodded and watched her friend slide down a tree.

Yes, I know. It's not quite as far-fetched as the previous one, but it's not exactly good. It's "nice," I guess you could say. :^)

 (How is it that I had better spelling in the first grade than in the fifth?)

And this is the ending from a story I wrote this year called "The Fence." I'm still rather proud of it. :^)

     The Girl ran out. This wasn’t right. In her stories, in her dreams, in her imagination, this was not how it was supposed to be. She got in her truck and drove home.

     Home. If she could just get home, to the beloved Fence, she’d be alright.

    The autumn sun fell to its knees in surrender to night as the Girl made her way through the trees. She sank to the ground on her rock, gazing forlornly at the empty ones beside it. Everyone was gone. Gone. The raging storm of time had swept by, and she was the only survivor.

    But here at the Fence, time didn’t stand a chance. It simply didn’t exist here. As she looked around through her tears, shapes formed around her. As things came into focus, she saw her brothers and the Boy’s brother charging through the trees with wooden swords. She saw her sister and the Boy’s sisters playing house around a circle of tree stumps. There was the Boy, on the rock next to hers, strumming his guitar.  She smiled, and he smiled back, opening his mouth to sing.  Sniffling, she listened to the haunting memory of his music.

    Nothing was ever really gone. It was just over the Fence. And whenever she needed them, they would all be right here, at the Fence.  And all eight of them would be together again, no matter how far apart they were in the real world. The Fence bound them together forever.
 

**********************************

 

    The Boy and the Girl are long gone. The rest of the world has forgotten them. A new group of children plays at the Fence now.

    But memory’s seed has been sown, and the Fence remembers.

I think my writing skills have greatly improved since I was seven, don't you?
 

Though these first drafts of previous "novels" are horrible, I can learn from them. I can look at them and see how not to write. Maybe someday I can take the skeletons of ideas sketched out here and breathe life into them, creating something worth reading.

And the pieces I'm writing now-- in five years will I look back on them as disgusted as I was when I read these? I hope not, but you never know.

I don't know how many people read this blog-- probably, like, two. (:D) But Happy New Year to all of my readers!

--Rebecca
XOXOXOX
 

December 17th, 2013-- Journaling

Rebecca's Diary

December 17th, 2013

"Ring Christmas bells,

Merrily ring,

Tell all the world,

Jesus is King,

Loudly proclaim,

With one accord,

The happy tale,

Welcome the Lord--"

That was my favorite Christmas carol until six hours ago.

Today was the School's Christmas concert.

I couldn't make it to band this morning (all they were going to be doing this morning was setting up the stage and decorating instruments to make them look Christmas-y), so I decorated my flute at home. Here's some pictures of what it looked like:


Flute Decorating: The Body

 The body of my flute was probably the hardest part. I had to be really careful not to wrap the ribbon too tightly, or touch the keys. If either of these had happened, the sound wouldn't have come out properly when I played today. It took about ten tries (full of snipping and re-taping so the ribbon wouldn't cross the keys), but I finally got it! What do you think?


Flute Decorating: The Mouthpiece (or Head Joint)

This part was a piece of cake-- since it's eight days to Christmas I'll say a piece of fruitcake! :P All I did was use clear Scotch tape to discreetly fasten one end of the red ribbon near the cork, and then wrapped the shiny crimson ribbon really tightly and taped the other end. I then did the same thing with the green ribbon, only I wrapped a lot more loosely to give it a swirled look. Then I hid one end of the tape under two bows with colors that matched my ribbon (also attached with tape).

Like I said, piece of fruitcake! Of course, I had to test it to be sure all the notes came out clearly. It worked!

 

Anyways, I got a ton of compliments at the concert, which made me very happy. 😄

Now what was it I was going to tell you? . . . oh, yes. The concert. Well, erm. . . .

I had a hard time getting to the school in the first place. There was a foot of snow on the ground (has been for quite some time) and it was snowing furiously. On the way into the building, my nose just about froze as I waited for someone to let me in.

We waited for what seemed like a large hunk of eternity while the other acts went on. It was your typical elementary school concert. First was the chorus, which sounded a bit deadbeat since there were only ten of them and one microphone was all they had in the way of a sound system. But the songs were pretty good. Then was the pre-k through third choir, which was adorable. Then the recorders. (I have never been overly fond of the screechiness of recorders, nor has anyone else I know.) Then the Beginning Band. And... finally... the Advanced Band.

Getting up there on the stage felt natural after doing so so many times before. I remembered the butterflies in my stomach that had almost lifted me off my feet the first time I had been in a one of the school's Christmas concerts, when I had sung in the kindergarten-through-third "choir." That was nine years ago, I thought, swallowing hard. Where has all that time gone?

Well, there wasn't time to ponder it now. The show must go on.

 

 And it did. We played Parade of the Wooden Soldiers, Deck the Halls, Up on the Housetop, and lastly, as the Christmas Concert's grand finale, Carol of the Bells.

 

"Try to go slow," whispered Tiffini.

 

"You can't go too fast," whispered Brooke. (Tiffini and Brooke are friends of mine and fellow flutists.)

 

"This speed," said Mrs. Ligature, snapping her fingers to the beat she wanted us to play to.

 

"Okay, I get it! But no promises." I whispered sharply. And I started playing the notes.

 

This is my last Christmas concert, I thought, I've got to give it everything. I imagined the words in my mind as I played the notes that accompanied them, adding slurs and dynamics where I thought them appropriate. Forget the sheet music, I thought, I don't need it!

 

That was my mistake.

 

When the music was at its strongest, the instrument groups began dropping out one by one, as was planned. Three measures later, it was just me and the two other flutes. I got so caught up in trying to "embroider" the melody with different techniques that I forgot where to stop!  While I heard the rest of the band hit the final wavering note, my fingers were still moving. Brooke, Tiffini, and I were still playing "Ring Christmas bells, merrily ring--" We stopped abruptly, looking at each other baffled. What were we to do? We'd just messed up horribly in front of our entire school.

 

Then we just burst out laughing in hysteria.

 

The audience was looking at us like we had suddenly transformed into Martians. Why were the woodwinds laughing their heads off?

 

I didn't know what to do-- I just kept laughing. But I realized if I kept laughing, it would soon turn to tears. So I gave high-fives to my fellow flutes. "That was awesome!" I giggled. "We messed up with style!" At least we still have tonight, I thought. We could make it up.

 

But the evening concert was canceled due to snow, which made a lot of us very angry because by seven o'clock the roads were completely clear and the weather was beautiful.

 

And now every time I hear Carol of the Bells on the radio, I feel my ears turn ever-so-slightly red as I remember how we-- I-- messed up.

 

But, hey-- at least everyone will remember that last Christmas Concert.

 

 

 

 

What Is A Synopsis? I Didn't Know Till Now!

 Definition:

 

 Synopsis: a brief survey or summary of something; a short outline or review of the main points.

I just learned a new word, case ya couldn't tell.  :^)

Hey, how's this for a synopsis? I've come as close as I dared to writing part of my novel (which would be breaking my promise to myself!) and wrote a summary for it. I'm not 100 % sure what the title's going to be. . . something that has to do with secrets. . . .

I'll get back to you on that!

For now, here's the synopsis for my next novel. Keep in mind that this is my first attempt at writing one for any of my books.

“A murderer will do anything to cover up what he has done.”

Derek knows a secret-- a gargantuan secret: he watched his stepfather, Jason, kill his mother. But he doesn’t dare tell anyone.

Derek is eleven now and has kept his mouth shut for five years, always fearing the big, ugly, abusive terror of a man that is his legal guardian. He’s terrified that somehow the secret might slip out--

And what might Jason do to him then?

Derek has finally found a place to fit in in Jessimon. He wouldn’t trade in his new life for anything. But when a series of robberies strikes the innocent little town, Derek thinks he may know who the thief is-- but in order to condemn the suspect, things from the past must come out of the shadows.

Does Derek care about Jessimon and his new friends enough to risk his own safety?

Tell me what you think in the comments!

XOXOXOXO

-- Rebecca

 

 

 

 

Random

 

 

 

What's going on lately:

• I won NaNoWriMo! I won NaNoWriMo! I won NaNoWriMo! Enough said. Anyone who's ever done it knows the satisfaction. Here's what the cover of my book looks like:

It's not the best it could be, I know.
But hey, it's my first cover (and novel!) ever!

 

• Practicing for the Christmas Concert! They've finally set the date: December 17th. I've practiced "Carol of the Bells" so many times on my flute, I could literally play it in my sleep.
• Played my first basketball game of the season Thursday! We were all pretty upset that we lost. But the other team, since they were so out-sized by us, had some pretty good strategy: they didn't really try during the first three quarters, which made our team start to get kind of careless. Then in the last period, when we were worn out, they made their comeback and beat us by four points-- !!!!!!!!!! The same thing happened during the boys' game, which was immediately after. But we know what we did wrong, and we're working on it, so we're better prepared for our next game (Monday).
• Failing pre-algebra.
• I survived my little sister's first ever slumber party last night.
• I've already got an idea for my next novel-- some exhausted part of me went "NOOOOOOOOO!" when I first thought of it. "NO!" it said. "Not another one-- not after all the work and pain and frustration of the last one!" But I'm going to write it, anyway. I am going to compromise with my aching brain, though: no writing any part of any novel until 2014. 2013 is almost over (sadly), so the part of me that's itching to write won't have long to wait. 25 days until I can start.... :^)