A maiden; a unicorn; a princess; a trustworthy guard . . . but not quite your run-of-the-mill fairy tale. Currently updating on LiveJournal, link in profile.

Pedestals fall? 'The trouble with angels is, it seems . that they lose their wings and haloes as they lose their dreams . they fall down to earth, but not any farther . sucks to be them ’cause it only gets harder.'

The innocence of the years before the Great War is gone. A protest song, essentially.

Ursula and Vlad: one the witty foil to the other's teenaged angst. But Vlad is, well, a growing vampire, and sometimes a friendship is tough if one party wants to suck the other's vital fluids. They try to look on the bright, if not sunny, side of life.

When Jimmy came back from the war, he was changed. TBC.

Survival of the fittest. Being a teenager is hard. INCOMPLETE. Being reworked. Unlikely to be updated on fictionpress again.

And so they lived forevermore.

He left.

Biwhat? Bipedal? Bipolar? Bicycle enthusiast? Tell me, tell me! [Sometimes teenagers are annoying . . . .]

Sometimes, there are no words.

You're not supposed to say that word.

Flora White hates Mary Ann Woodman. A drabble that exploded! FF.

It's another song! 'Once upon a time there was a princess . she was self interested and hard to impress . she only liked to play with her golden ball . 'til one day a frog stopped by and changed it all.'

Sa tête a été pleine d'ozone.

Sometimes pterodactyls hijack my brain.

Her head was full of ozone.

Addiction sans absolution.

Addiction without absolution. Uh. Yeah.

"Armageddon is the scariest/Its beasts are the hairiest . . . ." Good clean wacky fun!

Katsy Bloomsbuckle was uprooted from her home, shipped to the local palace, and locked in a tower; never to marry, never to be touched by a man of sin, which isn't exactly her idea of a good time. Hinted f/f. REWRITE PENDING!

Journal entries of an irritable teenager versus the world - or so she thinks. Rating 'just in case'. A rewrite of 'The Truth of Mackenzie Owens.' This regular update thing isn't working out currently, but hopefully it will start to soon.

A look at conformity and individuality, and how one can segue into the other. More to my 'vision', as it were, than the last one.

A longer version of the original, found below; rewritten for health class.

A one-shot. Individuality and opposition of such.

In which modern life is explained. Several poems in several chapters; a new style. Offbeat.

Happy endings are never easy, but sometimes everything works out just right. One-shot. I feel so SHALLOW.

A retelling of the fairy tale. Magic! Political intrigue! Pretty dresses! Huzzah! ON HIATUS.

Molly Malone, cherished Irish heroine . . . or was she? The many aspects of the heroic fishmonger in as many short stories.

Picture day and the (debatably pleasant) consequences of realizing the world isn't out to get you. A cheery little four-page story.

A third-person 'restricted' (not omniscient) look at mental illness-schizophrenia. Very stylized, similar to Honey.

Observations on the absurdity that is suburbia.

The toils and troubles following the life of an irritable teenager. Rating 'just in case'. Chapters are not long, and you'll find the occasional curse. COMPLETE! It is being rewritten as we speak.

A monologue (two characters); one confronts the other. Rating for subject matter (self-mutilation) and slight language.

tomato got tired of seeing bad angst fics. She is now going on a wild rampage, teaching just how to treat grim subjects...hence the rating. This covers the serious to the silly, and will probably always be a work in progress.

An assignment for English: a fourteen-or-more-line poem which can be used as a metaphor for a specific topic, as in the poem 'Ozymandias'.

Ramblings, nothing more and nothing less. Formatting got slightly messed up. (No, no, silly, that's not a lion, that's merely tomato's grumbling. Please ignore it.)

Just because you're an outcast doesn't mean you don't dream of the future.

English assignment"perspectives sometimes change because a person grows but the places around them remain the same." Got a decent grade; about my old house, which, honestly, I don't remember very well.

GEPA preparation again-please refer to "Mother's Eyes" for previous endeavors in this direction. A girl in a blue sweatshirt finds God. (Picture prompt.)

A woman comes to terms with her husband's abandoning her and her child. Unusually lyrical style (for me, anyway).

Alternately titled: Watch tomato Mangle Angst. A small girl has difficulties coming to terms with her mother's death at the hands of her father. Obviously upsetting; rating for themes and implied violence. Nothing particularly graphic and no bad language

In the universe of 'The Truth of Mackenzie Owens'; snippets of life outside of Mackenzie's perspective. Updates will be mentioned in 'The Truth . . . ' and will take place whenever I don't have time to write full entries. The title . . . don't ask.

Oh, my, I do have creative titles, eh? Anyway, I volunteered at a soup kitchen about a month ago and was asked to write an article for the sponsoring temple's newspaper (even though I'm not Jewish and don't worship there...). This is the result.

The beginnings of a project of mine (more information inside). Mostly I'm proud of the irritating rhyming scheme that I pulled off, if not too gracefully.

It's a song. Well, obviously. It popped into my head one day, tune and all, and demanded to be written down. I think it's about schizophrenia, though I'm not sure. At any rate, I appear to have written a nearly pop song ). Be frightened.

A peculiar little piece done as GEPA preperation in English class. A thirty minute drabble, complete with overuse of punctuation and run on sentences!

Oh, joy, More civics work. In the ever-unfolding saga of this year's 'mock campaign', this plays a key part; it's the Independent Reform Party's views on random crud. So. Read and weep.

God, I hated this. It's a really cruddy ad for Nader I had to do for civics-more complaints inside, hee. I think it's okay given the fact it was written in about two and a half hours.

A silly little science project I did for Life Science last year.

A 2.4 essay on the way fiction mirrors fact and vice versa. Written after reading the short story "The Land and the Water" by Shirley Ann Grau...there are times I hate English, y'know?

The title says it all. Inside you'll find not only nowadays insanity (including the rare multiple-verse haiku) but really-and-truly elementary school poetry. I hear your gasps of shock and horror, but they're not fatal. I don't think. Unintended pun!

A little ten-minute writing exercise for a mandatory "cycle" class-six weeks of an extension of English. Nyarg. 'Bout my audition for the regions orchestra (missed by eight points...ripping hair out in agonized frustration, here, don't mind me).

A little story about a girl's teddybears' adventures while she eats dinner. It's not that original, but considering I wrote it in fourth or fifth grade, I think it's kinda sweet. Smiles!

Edgar Degas's musings. And I keep wanting to say Degas like DAY-gahs instead of de-GAH. Argh.

A peculiar little story that started as a one-shot and grew bigger. For now, the plot is emerging through little snippets of life-conversations, letters, et cetera. Probably a frame-work for a more complete story in the future. Rating for mild language.

Careless actions. A consequence. Rating for reference to violence.

Weirdo anger at pretentious "I am cool because I am goth. Oooh, I am so original" feeling that seems to passing around these days, especially among my 'peers'. Not to be confused with those who have a reason for being goth or for what they believe in.

A rather angsty sort of poem discussing the meaning of the word 'and'. Creative use of the symbol, which I'm sure has a name that I just can't remember. Too much Bleeprin, I suppose.

It's long. It's tedious. It's about mathematicians. We shall not ask the muses why they forced me to put it up here. (Math project. Got a B+)

A prophet speaks of the political future. (Déja-vu, anyone) Accompanied by a ridiculous note from far into the future, and a ridiculous author's note that probably belongs far from anywhere. I had fun with this.

Orchestra project (written the night before it was due). Vivaldi's life and times thrown into a parody of a school play. Interesting, to say the least. Complicated chaos ensues.

My shop teacher retired last year, and I miss him terrifically. He was graying and frayed around the edges, but he smelled like my grandfather, and he drank tea. The new one is bright and shiny out of school, smelling of desperation and hair spray.

Rather morbid views on growing up.

As my oh-so-eloquent title suggests, it's a poem about music. Written for Social Studies after studying the Harlem Renaissance, in a style vaguely reminiscent of Emily Dickinson. (Not exactly Harlem Renaissance, I know...)

Disjointed ponderings on weight.

Metaphors again. Depression and its side affects.

A metaphorical anxiety attack. Four words: bizarre and possibly melodramatic.

A sentimental Teddy Roosevelt looks back on the Spanish American War and his time as a Rough Rider.

An essay on cheese and cheesemaking. For science class. I swear, there are no synonyms for cheese.