Poll: Hello? Is anyone out there? Vote Now!
Author has written 27 stories for Fantasy, General, Love, Essay, Humor, Haiku, Nature, Life, Religion, and General.
"There is a method to my madness."
"Well, not to mine."
First the conflict.
Then the characters.
That's usually how I write things.
Or at least, how I try.
* * * HERE IS A SMALL FACT * * *
I am in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful in all my stories, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me, no matter my protestations. Please, trust me. I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Amusing. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask for me to write a story that is nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.
* * * REACTION TO THE * * *
—Of course, an introduction.
Where are my manners?
I could introduce myself properly, but it's not really necessary. You will know me well enough and soon enough, depending on a diverse range of variables. It suffices to say that at some point in time (if you are willing) I will be standing over my computer, as genially as possible. Your review will be on my screen. A color will be dancing in my eyes. I will carry your words gently away.
At that moment, you will be sitting there (people rarely stand up in any case). You will be musing over my words. There might be a discovery; a scream will dribble down the air. The only sound you will hear after that will be my words, and the sound of the smell, of my footprints imprinted on your heart.
The question is, what color will everything be at that moment when you finish reading and send your review? What will your words be saying to me?
Personally, I like a sky-colored review. Smooth, shining, cerulean. People say it suits me. I do, however, try to enjoy every color I find — the whole spectrum. A billion or so flavors, none of them quite the same, and a review to slowly suck on. It takes the edge off the stress. It helps me relax.
* * * A SMALL THEORY * * *
As I've been alluding to, my one saving grace is distraction. It keeps me sane. It helps me cope, considering the length of time I've been alive. The trouble is, who could ever replace me? Who could step in to make smart remarks on the horrors of life while I take a break in your stock-standard place of isolation, whether it be my bedroom or of the padded prison variety? The answer, of course, is nobody, which has prompted me to make a conscious, deliberate decision — to make distraction my isolation. Needless to say, I isolate myself in words. In colors.
Still, it's possible that you might be asking, why does she even need isolation? What does she need isolation from?
Which brings me to my next point.
It's the other humans.
They're the ones I can't stand to look at, although on many occasions I still fail. I deliberately seek out the colors to keep my mind off them, but now and then, I witness the ones who are left without words, crumbling among the jigsaw puzzle of peer pressure, bent consciences, and reality. They have punctured minds. They have beaten eyes.
Which in turn brings me to the subject I am telling you about tonight, or today, or whatever the hour and color. They're the stories of some of those perpetual prisoners — experts at not knowing how to escape.
They're just small stories really, about, among other things:
I see reality more times than I can count.
"Shut up about this global warming thing. I can't hear you over the sound of our pipes freezing."
Hello. This is my normal side. I will now present to you the part of the profile that is normal. Or at least, as close to normal as I can manage.
You can call me Sky, Dark, or Mad. Or, if you know my real name, which I will not tell you, you can call me that. Just...not in public.
If you couldn't guess my gender from the creepy above part, then you need to pay attention better.
I like mangos, chocolate, The Book Thief, drawing, pillows, the color silver, piano, Red (of both the color and the band variety), Imagine Dragons, Switchfoot, Rise of the Guardians, mystery novels, gel pens, dark freestyle poetry, back massages, fanfiction, manga, cotton candy, and trampolines.
I do not like One Direction, Justin Beiber, mushrooms, global warming, Miley Cyrus, spiders, abortion, falling to my death, parties, or Twilight.
(Honestly, that last one is just a stereotype. I am female. Female DOES NOT equal liking Twilight.)
I am a Christian.
I am also a Republican.
I am very strongly pro-life.
I inhale reviews.
I was unfamiliar with the chaptering system back when I published the first few poems in Sorrows of the Shoeless and am too lazy to compile them into one technical "story" now, so I am leaving them separate.
Kudos if you got the references. I don't own the Book Thief.
I don't own any cover art; they belong to the artists/photographers.
I do not own the poem Opportunity, which is included in my story "To Defend and Protect". That belongs to the author, Edward Rowland Sill.
I do own everything else on this account, including my avatar, so do not steal it or I will be very irritated.
And personally, I don't think you want to irritate me.
Unsafe External Link
|Community:||Sorrows of the Shoeless|
|Focus:||General: All Categories|