I have a friend called Joe Nguyen ;D
Anyways, moving swiftly onwards, this story seems so amazing and I seriously cannot wait for the next chapter!
Update soon ;3

You should probably get started fairly quickly if you haven't written in forever. It's due in September. I don't really have much done either. Haven't really been in the mood to write much. But somehow, last night, I managed to write 30 words.

Would you be interested in writing Rowan's story again? I know I don't remember most of the details, but I bet it would help you start writing again. If you don't want to, then I'll start working on again.

I started something new last night. I don't even know how. I think I might use it for the Ficathon. It doesn't follow the genres. It's more like a medieval supernatural/fantasy story. I think I'm going to write about the origins of werewolves and vampires. The story, right now seems a bit detached, but I guess I leave you to look over it yourself.

Do you have any ideas what you're doing for the Ficathon? If it makes you feel better, you could probably write a cliche. They seem to be fairly easy to write.

As for Court and Track, I don't know who she'll end up with. Maybe at some point it will be Track, but then he'll do something incredibly stupid and sways her to end up with Court. Mostly, I'm trying to see who I like her better with. But right now, Track's just fucking with her because he finds her interesting and wants to see how she'll react.

Bleh, I am hungry and there's nothing here to eat. How nice.

Anywho, I suppose after I eat lunch, I resume my writing. I have a crap ton to catch up for after avoiding it. It's really crazy though. Writing has been super easy lately. I mean, not quite for the medieval one, but for Adelaide, it hasn't really been that hard. Even chapters that I think will be haven't been.

Did you join that community where all the plagiarised authors decided to post their works after vehemently denying they ever would? I did. They're all crazy and want you to review all the time or they'll kick you to the curb. It's kind of annoying cause frankly I'm kind of lazy.

Well, here ist vhat i vorked on last night:

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Actually there isn't enough room so onward to the next post. Woo.

I've restarted Adelaide's story. I'd been thinking about it lately, and I'm out of school, so I can stay up till all hours of the night.

That's usually when I do any bit of writing. It's 2:32 A.M. now as I write, and I'm not in the least bit tired.

Anyway, I've got a better plot for Adelaide clouding my head. I don't even know how I wrote this. I just started. And I'm amazed I actually wrote this much.

I think I'll wait before I actually post it. You know, when I'm further along in the story. Possibly finished. And if I do post it, I think I'll do it in authonomy(dot)com. At least then, it'll actually have a shot of going some where.

What do you think?

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"So—let me get this straight. Some little, prepubescent high schooler—called Special Ed, did thi9s to your face?” stated Uncle Robbie incredulously upon examining my face.

A softball sized lump, much resembling a malignant tumor was sprouting out the side of my head. It was just above my right ear where Special Ed—the only person in our school to score a 36 on his ACT test—had clobbered me with his computer when I'd read over his shoulder Microsoft stocks had gone down by twelve points.

I was hoping to initiate a conversation with him by reading over his shoulder to find a common interest in efforts to persuade him into tutoring me. My attempt fell flat on it's face. Literally.

Out of fright from my sudden remark, he'd spun around, laptop in hand, and managed to clip the side of my face. One of his stout, red-headed followers sitting next to him, swooned at his show of sheer masculinity. I, on the other hand, was rather upset because I was unable to block his attack, even after I'd spent numerous hours imitating Jackie Chan and Daniel Son.

Apparently, lightening fast reflexes didn't come with practice. A Kung Fu master from China town had to bestow them upon you before they were of any use.

Nodding to Uncle Robbie's question, I winced when he began to prod my swollen eye. As if Special Ed hadn't done enough to my face, his Charles Manson-follower type groupie swung her backpack over her shoulder, maiming me in the eye.

“Let me help you,” suggested Uncle Robbie as he steered me towards one of the kitchen chairs missing a back.

It looked like a bar stool with two wooden post jutting straight up. Pressing down on my shoulders, he ordered me to sit down while he fetched a slab of meat from the freezer.

He rummaged through the freezer before settling with a piece of chuck roast. After removing it from the freezer bag, he pressed it firmly against my eye, and placed my hand over it to hold it in place. Returning to the freezer, he grabbed a bag of mixed vegetables, grabbed the duct tape from the drawer next to the refrigerator, and taped the bag to the side of my head.

Taking the chair adjacent to mine, he clasped his hands together. “Talk,” he ordered.

“Not about the stock market, right?” I said meekly, the side of my head throbbing with a pulse of its own.

“Tell me you at least used common sense and hit him.” He narrowed his dark, already tiny eyes at me to the point of appearing closed when I remained unresponsive.

I settled on shaking my head, the bag of vegetables slipping slightly.

“Slap him? Spit on him? Kick him in his bloody loins?” Persistently, he attempted to get me to ensure him I had at least inflicted some pain on Special Ed.

Pausing for a moment, Uncle Robbie sat up straighter, applied more duct tape to the vegetables when they slipped completely off my lump, and tried again.

“Adelaide,” he started, suddenly getting up from his chair, knocking it over in the process, “has anyone ever taught you how to fight?”

“Just what I've learned from Jackie Chan and Daniel Son.” I made a fist with my free hand, cocked it back, and demonstrated a jab.

Critiquing my fist, he reshaped it, making sure my thumb wasn't tucked under my fingers, but rather laying across them.

“You'll break your thumb if you ever hit something with it tucked under like that.”

“Oh,” I replied dully, jabbing the air again, this time properly. “Say,” I said after a bit of inspiration hit me. “How well can you do the Mohammad Ali?”

Uncle Robbie had been scrappy when he was younger, or so I was told by many strangers. It wasn't unusual for people to cower in the grocery store and hide behind the cereal displays when they caught sight of him. I hadn't given it much thought before, but the puzzle pieces began to click into place once I thought of him as a fighting machine on its spin cycle.

My uncle was dangerous.

Uncle Robbie licked his thin lips as a faraway look flitted over his eyes. “Oh, I can dance,” he assured me, pulling me out of my seat. Light on his feet, he circled me, half stepping, half hopping. In quick succession, he was throwing punches past me, faster than I could count.

His demonstration ended with a full force punch aimed at the refrigerator door. He ended with a loud “K'yah” that made me jump with fright, leaving me with erratic breathing, and an escalating pulse rate. There was a large dent in the door where his fist had collided with the aluminum.

Eyes bulging in amazement, I gasped, “When did you learn Asian?”

Shrugging, Uncle Robbie ruffled my hair. “It's not cool to have a girlfriend who can put you in your place when you're young and in high school. Now, I'd associate it as number seven on my list of top ten turn ons.”

Excitedly, I fetched a plate from the cupboard, put the chuck roast on it, and covered it with plastic wrap and put it in the fridge.

“Teach me what Jackie Chan and Daniel Son couldn't,” I begged without shame. I was even willing to grovel.

With Uncle Robbie's help, my dream of learning fluent Asian wasn't unattainable.

Is there something in that chocolate I should know about? Hm?

Actually that was a real example. I'm not that pathetic. I just randomly clicked on a story that had reviews and that was the first line of the second chapter. As the first was in the POV of a female.

I'm not on holidays now. I graduated. It's not that fun. I hate it. It's boring. We take finals in our retarded schools. They think it prepares us for college when in all actuality it doesn't. Not at all. I took two college classes already. They were pointless and as easy as high school. I took Yoga and Sociology.

So instead of making Irwin a butch like you wish she was so you could fantasize over her, I might make her a yoga hippie or something.

But really, what's in your chocolate? You should hope you don't turn into a crackhead. Or maybe, it's laced with LSD and you're actually tripping while you wrote that. I can see you being stupid enough to do that. Yep.

Oh, I know what happened. A man with a big white van came up to you and was all 'Would you like some candy little girl?' And you being the fruitcake you are was all 'Sure, can I have the chocolate?'. Then you stole it! Because he'd only give you it after he raped/molested you.

Lmao. Look at this summary:
Corey Feldman and Corey Haim are Pure-bred Vampires looking for a mate to share. When they save a girl named Stephanie, they decide she is just the mate they've been looking for. Rating might go up in later chapters. Constructive criticism is fine.

Anyway. I'm going to go do something. Maybe eat breakfast at 11:30. Or maybe not. I'm just that unpredictable.

Haha. Seeya

I'm a robot, eh? Actually, I took down that story coz I didn't have my 1,0 words for Kitty's story to submit for the ficathon, so I submitted that. Haha.

M, so I've finally figured out how many chapters Kitty's story is going to be. Each chapter is going to be named after the types of girl scout cookies, and seeing as only eleven types exist, that's how many chapters I'm not going to bother to write. Great plan, yes?

Yeah, I know, people are pretty pathetic on Fictionpress. Like, I love it when they write about when people go to the parties and get drunk. And then, when they're still drunk, in efforts to sober them up, they give them fucking water. LMAO. Yeah, cept they never ever puke after that. They just feel fine and fucking dandy with water. Dumb whores. And the kiss thing is kinda sad too. They're living vicariously through fictionpress.

I'm a little bit of a review whore, but not so much anymore. I just don't give a damn. I mean, just go read one of those stories that has 1500 reviews and shitty grammar. I don't need reviews to know I'm better than that. lol.

So, I have the urge to create a new Fictionpress account and just start all over. I have no idea why, but that's what I was thinking of doing yesterday. So I took an old account that died off like years ago and changed the name to Captain Amazing. I was that bored.

As to your story...

The thing I like about Sadie's POV is how you wrote it. Everything she thinks/says is a bit detached.

The beginning is good as I've told you before, but the ending annoys me a bit with Vihn and that wierd neonazi or whatever he is. It's almost just completely random, and as soon as it happens, I lose track of what I'm reading.

Actually, I'm probably just stupid like that.

So, did you pull her last name out of your ass? Xureb?

Oh, oh, oh! I know what she has! Haha. Only because you had to tell me.

That's about all I can think of.

I'm going back to me. Get over it.

On Kitty's story, I have no idea how I want to start it again. I was thinking of having her work in a Chinese grocery mart, and then flip out on a customer who was buying girl scout cookies. And then she freaks out on the whole store saying the girl scouts are out to take over the world and even the Chinese aren't safe.

Or something to that extent. Then she confronts her boss about his stocking of the cookies and he goes on about a profitable deal he made with them to sell their surplus. Then tells her to get back to work and stop scaring the customers.

Oh, and I was thinking she needed a friend because even cat ladies need a friend. I think she's going to be named Mieze Eichel.

Anyway. I need to get back to doing nothing.

Ciao.

I loved chapter two. The whole point of view is very... Vinh. The Nguyen name sealed the deal (my friend has that name lol.)

You show just enough information and didn't overwhelm with a million characters as part of his social delinquent circle... and you didn't get too intimate but at the same time it was warm enough to want me to keep learning more about him.

I caught on to a few things... especially the "--but it’s not as if I can afford a suit."

That was a really good chapter and I love the way you adapted a certain narrative style for Sadie. At first I thought I knew what she had but after seeing a few more of her symptoms... I'm not so sure... well! I guess I'll see in future chapters!

So, judging from the drought comments and the description about Rolando... I'm guessing that this is story based in Australia? Just wondering if it's in the rural or urban area. Lol. Anyway, just a lil curiosity that will probably be answered soon.

Vinh is an interesting boy who seems to hold the typical stereotype of the "delinquent Asian". Makes you wonder how he'll develop over future chapters.

In general, I'm enjoying this story so well done!

Most interesting plot. Hook first chapter and you got me asking for more. I have an idea of what she has-- but-- I rather not dwell on that and be surprised.

Coming from her POV I didn't except detail on time, or place-- but for what I expected of a patient you did well. You describe and portray clearly-- showing a sense of strangeness that allows us to see it for her "not so perfect state of mind."

I look forward to more.