Friday, December 27, 2013


Rest assured, I did have a great Christmas and I got what I really wanted, to get over my writer's block. I've been stuck with it for a month and it sucked. :)
Other than that I did get some really awesome stuff like Lindsey Stirling's deluxe CD. Well worth it, trust me. Oh and I got all of the Lord of the Rings movies (the first one I got for my birthday) and I squealed when I got the final two.
I'm not going to write much today. I've caught an awful cold that is either a throat cold or a chest cold. Not sure which. The only bonus is that I don't have a stuffy nose. Last night I had a fever of 100. something I was weak all over and I was dizzy. It made grocery shopping (I didn't think my fever was that bad!) fun. I was so dizzy, but having some great fun with the cart. My dad is a speed shopper when it comes to grocery shopping, keeping up with him is like trying catch a spooked horse.
Yes. I think my cold has just taken a turn for the worst. I feel kind of hot and cold. Ugh. I also have no voice, so I think I should lie down before I walk into a wall on accident.
Oh and thank you to all who commented on my last post. I'm trying to be positive, I really am. I woke up in a really good mood this morning despite the cold. =D

Friday, December 20, 2013


Finally! Christmas break. Like last year I'm taking a break from posting, (at least for a little bit) because I need a break from all the endless stress.
Before you ask, no, I'm not okay. Things have taken a lovely turn for worse. I was told by the stupid company that I don't have anything their looking for (ouch) someone left a terrible comment on a photography blog that I have (double ouch) and they're testing my dad for skin cancer.
And really that's no half of what's bugging me.
So I'd like a break from all that, you know? Uck.
But anyway, merry Christmas. If you don't celebrate Christmas then Happy Holidays and have a wonderful New Year (yeesh, too many capitals letters) seriously. Don't stay down because we're celebrating the birth of Light and the world is filled with a lot of dark.
I do have something positive to announce. I can play Song of the Caged Bird by Lindsey Stirling. It's full of sixteenth notes and I really hadn't had much experience with them until now, (what's faster than a sixteenth note? Anyone?) and I feel like the song really fits me.
I'm a caged bird.
Here's  how I really feel. Mad World for a caged bird.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013


I work
I sweat
I try
Someone else gets the result

I claw
I struggle
I rise
Someone else gets the break

I fall
I cry
I try again
Someone else gets the raise


I work hard
I don't quit

I'm not easy come
Nor easy go

Why can't I get the break?

When will it be my turn

Or have I been


I struggle
I yearn
I ask
Someone else gets answers

I pray
I see
I hear
Someone else is getting it again

Dark clouds
Over me


I breath in
I let it out
I exist
Someone else lives


Why not?

Someone else gets it again

Why not me?

Sunday, December 15, 2013


I'm sorry I went so long without posting anything, this one isn't going to be too long because it's nighttime and I need to go to bed now or I'll spend the night cleaning my room because I can't sleep. I think I've run out things to clean, though which is sad. My room looks really good though. :)
Long story short about the reasons I haven't posted anything for a while, I was lazy, I was sad, I forgot. ;D
I went to Temple Square to see the lights today. It was the first time my family has gone anywhere as a whole for a really long time. The lights were really awesome, but Salt Lake City was so smoggy and gross. It smelled like an open sewer had been left to rot under the open sun! I hate smog. Really hate it! It's so smoggy it looks like fog, but it's not! Gerross! (say it out loud and it will make sense)
I also saw the Hobbit the Desolation of Smaug on Friday, yes the day after it came out. Hehe. First time I've done that (I think) and it was the first Lord of the Rings movie I've seen in theaters. I was too young when the original movies came out and I didn't care when the first Hobbit movie came out.
Dorky moment, when Gandalf mentioned the Nine, I cheered, in public, not loudly, by my siblings rolled their eyes. Anyone who saw that would've thought I was voting for the enemy (hehehe)

Tuesday, December 10, 2013


Hurting Me

You say that what you do
What you say
How you act
Day by day
Is the best for me

According to you
We dream the same dreams
Live the same way
But what I say
What I do
Is so different from you

You're hurting me
Everything I dream
Everything I want to be
I am less like you than I seem.
I am squandered
Pushed aside.

Deemed as not
For someone who wants
What I have barely got

Your actions
Your words
Even the air you breathe
Profits only you
Your lies are herds
Oh heathen! You blind fool.

If you could only see
How much you are hurting me

Yes it is true
I have very little trust in you
Every word that falls from your mouth
Is a stinging nettle in my ear
Why can't you see?
Your greed is killing me

I breathe.
I am
But my spirit is not
Because you have
What I have barely got

Your honor is not

Your eyes are wide open
Yet you cannot see
How badly you have hurt me

I have fallen
And what do you do?
You take what profits you
It is not best for me
Because I can see
Oh that I were blind
And could not!


Friday, December 6, 2013


So yeah, I just got more bad news. It's kind of like "ugghhh" and rolling my eyes at the same time. I applied for a job and guess what? So did NOT happen. I predicted that it wouldn't. I could even predict every word they said.
Am I surprised by this? Nope. Not in the least. I have this annoying knack for knowing things and I knew that the job wasn't going to happen. So to them thankssss through the teeth. Or better yet, no thanks for the afternoon that I WASTED on you. Enjoy what I gave you. It's all you're getting from me.
Now what?
This really puts a thorn in my side, and makes me hesitant to go looking anywhere else. What if they decide I'm not worth looking at either? Huzzah. I'm so thrilled at the idea.
But I'm not crushed. Seriously. I'm wearing a really cute outfit and my hair is finally cooperating with me (I KNEW getting layers cut in it was worth something) I cried a little, but they were angry, through the teeth tears. IE I'm more annoyed, irritated, and ready to stick out my tongue than anything else.
Childish, I know, but we should all be allowed moments of childishness.
I don't really have an up side to flip to now. Nothing terribly positive other than I solved my cannot-write-anything problem and yes, I am writing the second book of Twisted. I shall now revert you to my Facebook page because the current computer I'm on does not have the picture.
I had to stop writing yesterday but I'm sitting quite nicely on chapter 2, though I may have to go to a scene where my villain (Amaarzar) is being his usual self. He's fairly aggressive so I could get out some of mine through writing about him. Better than strangling my poor pillow. It's flat enough already.
Yes. So this is my day. Ditched. Goes to show that you should not put your hope in certain things. I wasn't really hopeful, unless you count dry sarcasm as hope. Now what do I do?
To the people trying to smash me. Fire away, suckers. You can't keep me down.  :p
And I'm going to start a series of speed drawings on YouTube, if you've seen my cover (glance kindly towards to right side of the screen) and my map you'll see what I can do (yes, I drew both). Check it out! I'll try to have the first one post by Wednesday, possibly sooner. Like the undead? Yep. I'll be drawing them.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013


I've been going through a long period of "not knowing" you know that stage most people go through as they try to figure out who they are and what they're going to do. That explains why most of my posts have been relatively on the negative side. It's been a constant fight with myself as both sides argued about what to do (dark side, light side.)
Give up or keep going?
I've come to the decision making point and I'm also melting. It's the nice high temperature of 14 degrees Fahrenheit where I am and I'm rolling up my sleeves and trying not to turn into a puddle of goo. Go figure. Our new furnace is working really, really well.
Yes. So my decisions.
I've decided that no matter what I'm going to do what makes me happy and like I've accomplished something. Thereby meaning, writing. Yes. I know I said I was going to quit, but I have this nasty habit of tossing up my hands whenever anything gets a little harder. My dad would probably say this is my biggest fault. eventually though I get back up, grit my teeth and get going.
It's been hard the past couple weeks because it seemed like what I was doing wasn't getting me anywhere. It was like I was stuck in a oval swimming pool, endlessly doing laps, wasting energy, but never going anywhere. I've finally realized I can get out of the water (thankfully! I hate getting wet unless I have to!) and move on with my life.
How did I come across this?
Amazing right?
Yesterday I learned about colleges and student loans, grants, scholarships and I completely freaked out. I was all but ready to label myself as hopeless and toss myself into the street in front of an oncoming car. Today I'm a little more ready to see common sense.
I've been watching my sister in college.
It looks like work.
A lot of work.
A lot of busy work for nothing.
She wants to be an editor (yes! she'll edit my books and I can just hand her the manuscript and bug her about why it's taking so long) so why is she taking a time-consuming history class? Aye. It makes my brain hurt. Sure we need to be well-rounded, but I prefer doing that my own way, not some snobby college professor's.
My mom pointed out that there were tech schools and that she thought I wouldn't do well in a classroom setting like that. So true! I prefer getting my hands dirty (physically and metaphorically) than sitting in front of a desk tapping my pencil with absolute boredom as the teacher blahs on and on and on. So I think I'm going to go to a tech school, which is good because I plan on owning a horse soon (Amy, I will! =D because you know for the record, I could get a job soon, I did apply) and it's not even a question anymore.
I will own a horse.
One way or another.
And being in tech school where I'm only learning the stuff that I really need to know will help narrow down the time I'm there. I could get a degree in writing or possibly hair styling since I seem to be doing a lot of that lately.
Anyway, doing school today I was learning about career choices and I realized that I would never be happy in a "big money" job, working for someone else. I don't want to be a name and a picture, I want to mean something, so therefore when I am good enough I'm going to be a violin teacher. The violin has brought a lot of joy and satisfaction into my life, I can't help but want to share that.
I will always be an author. No worries for those of you waiting for the second book. I was born with words in my veins.
I am starting the second book (lousy iPod battery! it keeps popping up with the 20% left) today. It'll be another couple of months before you can hold it (sorry!) but at least you know it's a work in progress. All nine drafts of it.
Wow. I realized that's about 5,000 sheets of paper for all of those drafts for the second book alone. Entangled is probably my favorite, despite all the troubles I've had with it in the past. At least I have a well-rounded villain (Amaarzar wouldn't be happy with being called a bad guy only. Villains are better in the long run, think Darth Vadar, the Witch King of Angmar (haha) and Sauron, they're villains I'm attempting to model mine after)
So yeah. I've made my decisions. I don't want to work at a desk job. I WON'T work at a desk job. I'm not aiming to be the richest person alive, and even if I was I'd still be doing what I love. I don't want money, I want self-satisfaction in knowing that I did something most people haven't, even before I graduated from high school.
There's my decision. Make what you want of it.
Happy 20 days before Christmas =)
Do something to make someone smile, find the true spirit of Christmas.
My Facebook page for Twisted, as always, I'm trying to make it interesting.
You can buy a copy of my book here,
Thanks, and please share! :)

Monday, December 2, 2013


Yes. I'm aware that my last few posts were very, very, very negative.
I'm trying not to do that anymore.
I've probably disappointed my parents and everyone else and I apologize. I didn't mean to do that. What you read from my last post was some great emotional backlash from unwanted pressure and build up of emotions.
After I got done writing the last post I grabbed my copy of Twisted and hurled it at my door. My door is where things tend to get chucked. I once threw my MP3 at it (another story for another time.) And the book ricocheted off of my door and landed splat in my garbage can.

Never Again
Here is visual proof. I know. Terrible picture, but what can you expect from an iPod?
At the time I was like "good!" while sobbing. I figured that's where trash needed to go.
My family had other ideas. I was at least 30 minutes of a pep talk reminding me that I have only been published for a month. It takes time.
My personal copy of Twisted is incredibly beat up. I'm not going to quit. It's just taking a lot of grit teeth to keep going.
In other words I'm trying to fake it until I make it.
Which may take a while before I make it, but you know. Why not me? Why not Twisted?
Oh and for the record, it took me a really long time how to learn ricochet. It is not spelled the way it sounds. If it were it would probably look like this: ricoshay. =D  

Saturday, November 30, 2013

Kick to the Face

Hey all, I hope you had a good Thanksgiving, ours was a little squeaky. Meaning that my little sister found a mouse in her room and was reasonably freaked out. We haven't found anymore mice, but it's a little worrisome. How did it get into our house? When the people came to deliver our furnace? In the box of homegrown apples we go?
No idea.
Otherwise Thanksgiving was okay. I love stuffing. Not even homemade. It's the cheap store-bought stuff, and it is delicious.
But not everything is hunky-dory.
I've been trying to avoid social media for the past three days. Not because I hate it, but because I didn't want to continue my trend of becoming increasingly grouchy as I looked at it. I managed to keep up a three day streak until I finally decided to look.
First thing. I only had one email.
I know we shouldn't judge ourselves on how many emails we get, but that's still a little condemning. Ah, my trend as a nothing loser continues apparently.
What's more the email was like a kick to the face. Someone else getting what I wanted. I literally burst into tears. Funny how I haven't ever really done that before, bursting into tears I mean. Usually I have to want to cry and then they come out.
Not this time.
One email.
One harsh kick to the face.
The tears came out, nice and hard.
When will it finally be my turn? I have to keep wondering this. So many other people are getting breaks, but I'm still trudging through miles of thigh-deep mud. AAAAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
That's my vocalization for this moment.
Part of me wonders if it's even worth it anymore. Writing. So far it's only made me $75.08 (rough estimate) and left me dragging. Seriously. I sit in front of my computer and that snaky little voice in the back of my head whispers "why bother? No one will care!"
I wonder if I should listen to it.
When my computer finally dies I think that'll be it. My writing career over. No one cares anyway. If I suddenly quit it wouldn't be the end of the world for anyone.
I'll find a new hobby in fashion design maybe. I did learn how to turn boot cut jeans into skinny and to this point I have broken two sewing machine needles while doing so. I didn't manage to do it perfectly though. One pair flopped and so I mutilated it with a pair of scissors. All that time jabbing myself with pins wasted.
i.e. I feel like a failure. I did what I thought I loved and it flopped. Scissors can't take that sting away.
Funny how one email can crush the resolve I thought I had. When will I stop getting kicked in the face? Time and time again people who don't deserve it get what I have spent years longing for. I do a lot of work, I forgo sleep, social outings, and sometimes my sanity and nothing happens.
Ever feel like this? Like the heavens have put you on hold as you scream for help?
That's me.
Kicked in the face.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Up and Not so At 'Em

I've been having a hard time keeping my head above the surface lately. I'm sure we've all had days like this. I've got good news though.
First and foremost, I couldn't sleep two nights ago so I got up and cleaned my closet. How is this good news? Well it's been a mess for...I'd say two years. Everything was packed in there with the shove it hard and then run concept. Well it's clean now. Voila. How clean? Well I didn't have extra shelves before. Everything was packed in tight. Now I have enough shelf space to empty out a bookshelf that I don't want in my room anymore.
Who knew a clean closet could make you happy?
I didn't even run into any spiders and you'd think that a closet that messy would be their dream home. No spiders, not even any webs. I've found more in my room. (Yuck!)
Second bit of good news. I may get a job. It's a writing job so I wouldn't have to leave my comfort zone. I have power with words. On days when I'm really into it I have the power to make my readers laugh, cry, feel angry, or find joy. So I figure why bother leaving my passion?
I'm not saying much about it now because I don't want to jinx myself. I don't know if I'm going to get hired and I'm not sure if I should be hopeful or dreading because in this economy...just kidding. When conversations start like that I generally roll my eyes and walk away.
I know it's time for me to get a job, and hopefully I won't have to go kicking and screaming as I was planning to before. This option kind of slapped me in the face and said "hello? Right here!"
Anyway, not really looking forward to Thanksgiving. Time of pleasure and joy right? Haha. Not really. It's been hard because of the sudden lack of Jason. Plus no one in my immediate family seems able to cook potatoes unless they're baked potatoes. On that note no one in my family seems to like potatoes that much either, even though we're 50% Idahoan on my mother's side.
Mashed potatoes are the main center piece to Thanksgiving right? Yuck. They're always, ALWAYS burnt. We sometimes joke that our dinner bell is a fire alarm because of the burnt potatoes.
Plus I'm getting tired of the over advertised Holidays. I was at a store with my dad and heard a commercial for fresh flowers. Get them fresh for Thanksgiving. It was about a week before the holiday. I rolled my eyes thinking that in a week your fresh flowers would be wilting a little. Ooh so fresh.
As for my last post. I'm better right now. It seems to be this roller coaster where I'm fine in the mornings but as the days wear on towards evening everything builds up leaving me with the sincere desire to scream. Last night I managed to fight it by writing. One of my characters (you don't know him yet) was going through the same thing I was. Fighting to stay above. I almost cried with him because I was able to express myself on a page.
See? That's what I love doing. Writing is something I don't ever want to quit. Twisted helped me survive losing a sister and growing up. I was able to channel frustrations into words. That book is probably the only reason I'm still here writing this right now and not in some loony bin. Angry? Frustrated? Sorry characters, it's being taken out on you. ;)
In other words, right now I'm treading water. The storm will start up again, a guarantee. Why am I so unable to handle what never bothered me before?

Friday, November 22, 2013

The Story of My Bad, Evil, Long, LONG, Week

You ever had a day where you regret getting out of bed? I had a week of that. Every day I wished I hadn't bothered to get up. Long, dull days full of frustrating events and never ending humdrums.
Yada, yada.
Yeah. I'm not the brightest star in the sky right now. In fact I may even be a black hole. But you know three red heads in a room makes a black hole so right now I'm 1/3 of black hole.
At least next week is Thanksgiving break. I'm so tired of school. Of worry about assignments and getting everything done (blah blah blah) that I don't even care about the Holiday. Plus I feel particularly ugly because last week in a class I sat by a boy as I was walking out I saw him with two other girls in the class who were prime specimens of the females of this species.
I feel rather inadequate right now and I've even found myself mentally apologizing to people for how ugly I am.
Yep. Bad week. What's causing this? No idea. I really don't. It must be November. Two years ago I went through a really dark time, it's what left me with the understanding of how it feels to walk in darkened paths. It's why I can really hike up the emotions when writing from the Secret Keeper's POV (haha, knew it was coming ;D)
Plus a friend who I didn't think cared about the whole exercise stuff started losing weight and got the start of a six pack and I feel like a bus next to a slim sports car. It feels like part of my comfort has been torn away because my friend started caring about this.
All because of her dork boyfriend who called her fat.
I want to punch him. Don't doubt the power of this girl. She can ride a freaking 1,000 pound animal. Okay Gypsy is probably only 900 pounds, but that's still a lot. By the way she dropped his sorry butt. Nobody is allowed to insult her the way he did. I'd take my violin (Squishy!) and beam him up top the head.
Yeah anyway. My excitement levels are very low. It would probably take a bomb to get me to even blink and then I'd probably be like "yeah, whatever."
I regret climbing out of bed. Not nesscarily going to institute this morning at 8 when I would have much rather of been sleeping. I gave death glares over at that boy. Great way to make friends, I know, but the claws are returning. My inner she-devil is starting to crawl back up. I want to scream, really, really loudly.
Wouldn't it be nice if we could all have instant boyfriends who aren't dwebs? I used to not care, now I'm seeing all these hot guys with gorgeous girls and I want to curl up under a rock and die in my ugliness. I have never been on a date. The only boys who showed interest in me was a kid in kindergarten and that was because we shared the same letter at the end of our names. Then Steve last year.
Yep. The ponderings of a grouchy girl. Stick around it will probably get interesting.
I dread next week. What woes will come with the lightening of a new dawn?

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

The Birth of the Blackheart

Yep, typical teenager angst is the current story of my life right now. I'm still super tired. It feels like I got zero hours of sleep last night and I dreamt about a furnace bursting into flames and burning my aunt and uncle's house to the ground.
Fascinating, except I was still inside trying to rescue a few books.
Yeah, even in my dreams I'm lacking in sanity. :)
It's also that I don't know what to do about college. Still have no money, still do NOT want to get a job, but it's look inevitable. I also learned a heck of a lot of stuff in financial lit about money risks and taxes so my current engery and will level is topping at about -1.
But on the bright side I found a new story to write. Here's a little warning for all you authors planning to publish your book. As you format it, and proof read it, you will literally run yourself into exhaustion with it. I burnt myself into a crisp (figuratively) and I spent half of November struggling to get past chapter 5 on a bunch of books.
But I've found a new one.
Mwahaha. It's called Blackheart (yes I did come up with a title for it right away. Twisted didn't have one for...maybe two weeks. I called it the 'Secret Keeper story' which it practically is, but anyway...) and it's about a girl who gets stranded on a mountain with the king's assassin, the Blackheart.
I'm still trying to develop the story, but I do know that there's going to be a scene with tar and feathering. Hehe. Just expanding my pallete for character torture. The Secret Keeper is probably relieved that he doesn't have to deal with this new one.
Sorry Blackheart.
It's been so relieving to have something to write and to be excited about it. The past four stories that I tried to start only held my interest for the first three chapters before I started to dread writing. That is not good. As Bob Ross states "it (painting) should make you happy. If it's not making you happy then you're doing something wrong."
Or something like that.
Yes, I love Bob Ross. The cover for Twisted would have flopped without him. Sad thing that he's been dead for as long as I've been alive. :(
So I found something that made me happy. I came up with the idea after seeing Thor, A Darkened World. No, I'm not a big Marvel fan, but I wanted to see it and yes I would recommend it. Things were blowing up every five minutes. Awesome.
On that same day it was discovered that our furnace decided that breaking would be a really good idea. Did you know it costs about $2,000 to replace a furnace? I didn't and it freaked me out. My family's not rich, so when I learned that the dumb furnace was going to cost us that much I wanted to go downstairs and kick the stupid thing. I resisted and went outside with my iPod music turned up really, really loud.
I was pacing and thinking about how much I hated everything, quality meditation, I'll tell you. From there my thoughts went to Lord of the Rings (surprise) and I was thinking about how much I respected Théoden, king of Rohan. I realized that I was longing to trust the officials, trust and be willing to go to war for them. From that I went to the Witch King wondering if he'd make a good king. I figured probably. Wraiths are self-centered, but they're not going (depending on the wraith some can be rather stupid and flighty) to do something destructive that would end their rule, unless they wanted it to.
Long story short this is how I came up with the idea for Blackheart. The girl, Abigail Ellison is stranded away from her home with the Blackheart, the king of Hearst's brunt fist. Somehow or another she manages to weasel her way into his black heart and becomes the father figure she never had.
How this happens? No idea. But it was amazing the way Abby walked onto the page. It was the same way Aster did. The words popped from my fingers with a distinct voice that clearly said here I am! I didn't have to guess her name, or the names of those around her. That's what drove me crazy about the other books. No voice! Abby has a distinct voice all her own.
No, I'm not quitting on Twisted, I just need a break or I'm going to scream. I've written so many drafts and edited so much of that series that one more try is going to make my head explode and you know how difficult it can be to clean brains from your keyboard. ;)
Here's what gave my new book its name. I found the sheet music for this song earlier that day. It seems like it was meant to happen. Blackheart by Two Steps from Hell. Not so fond of the group name, but love their music.
Can I play this song on the violin? Yes (hesitant answer) but it needs work.

See my Facebook page for Twisted my published book!
Like, share and enjoy!

Here's where you can buy a physical copy of Twisted

Monday, November 18, 2013

Trying to Thrive

I'm sorry that I haven't posted much lately. I've been busy with school, and procrastinating ;)
This isn't going to be a very long post because I've been up since 2 in the morning and naturally I'm running on borrowed time before I crash, which I'm about to. No chocolate can help this lack of energy.
I've been having a bit of "holy cow! is this happening to me?" kind of experiences all over the place. Like some people in my neighborhood who somehow learned about my book and are going to buy it (whoa!) and then yesterday I got to enlighten a friend on the world of the dead. She didn't understand about the ringwraiths, how they existed.
If you've been following my blog for a while, you'll know. They're not alive. They walk in death. So evil that their souls departed and their physical forms turned to shadow.
Yep. I'm too tired to go into much detail about this.
Thank you to all who have bought my book. Please tell me what you thought about it! I love getting comments.
Now if you'll pardon me, I'm going to go take a nap until five pm.

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

Here Again

Thank you to all who read my first chapter preview! I was surprised at how many views it got. It made me happy. :)
Today I don't think that I can count as much more than a zombie. I am so tired. The time change has been brutal. We went an hour back and usually that means an extra hour of sleep, but to me it's hardly worth it because at about six every day I start losing the will to move. Yep. I call it zombie mode. Why not wraith mode? Well, because wraiths have the ability to think, the garden variety of zombies do not.
I also was really brave and snipped my bangs off. They used to be longer than my face. Now I have Taylor Swift style bangs. I didn't even realize I did until I looked at myself and thought that my hairstyle looked familiar. I was even wearing a Taylor Swift shirt. Jeez. I am observant, but only when I want to be.
But hey, I have a victory claim. I have almost 30,000 words for NaNoWriMo. Do they count? Well, I say so, but others may say no. I've started three books since the beginning of this month. I went back to the original one, the third book of Twisted, I get to about chapter four or five and start dragging. I'm determined to get past that now.
I know what you're saying why aren't you writing the second book? If you're not thinking that then I really DON'T know what you're saying. Anyway, why not? I've already written it twice this year. Three times is a bit extreme. I don't plan on having it out until next year. I'm still trying to figure out how to weave the plot. Don't worry, I know what happens. It's just how it happens is what's slowing me down.
What is also slowing me down is that my computer is dying. The PCU (is that what that big honking "brain" of the computer is called?) the screen is fine. It's actually supposed to be a Windows 2007,but the important part is currently fading. It started with an odd buzzing from the fans, or just the device all together, and then the programs started going nuts. My computer is no longer capable of numbering things correctly. I thinks that 1 should come after 43, which is obviously WRONG.
I'm terrified that I'm going to turn it on and instead of coming on it's going to blow up instead. According to my parents we've had the computer for as long as we've lived in our house. That's about 13 years. It's refurbished, and according to a cute little sticker was once a Windows Millennia and we all know how vastly popular that was. It's currently running Windows 98, and in computer terms, it's a great, great, great grandparent to Windows 8.
Over all? I'm worried that it's going to die. I don't want the latest and greatest (though something that could run YouTube would be great ;D) I'm borrowing my dad's old laptop to write this and it's on my desk and I am not tall enough (no, before you ask I'm not tall! I'm a shortie) to reach it in without sitting on a pillow.
In other words my arms are aching.
So there goes my current moment. I'm a zombie, my arms hurt, but hey my book is selling better than I thought it would. I've nearly made $100 in a week. So thank you all to bought my book.
Here's where you can buy a copy
Here's my Facebook page for my book,

Friday, November 8, 2013

Twisted Preview

As promised here is the first chapter in my book. Feel free to leave comments on what you thought. I'll try to reply as soon as I can!
Enjoy. This chapter was 2 and a half years in the making. ;)


How a No Good, Very Bad, Terrible Thief Became Very Good, Really Sweet, and Overwhelmingly Willing To Help the King





Aster the Terrible

Oh what a world!

          I was at the height of my reign of plunder. Everyone who said my name spoke it with fear or with fury. I was a thief. A pirate on dry land. Even the pirates who sail the Seas of Mondorlan couldn’t compare to my horrible plunders.

          I was a silent whisper slinking through the Four Kingdoms stealing everything I could lay a finger on. Kings, queens, merchants all tried to catch me and failed. I was surely the man who could not be caught. I avoided them for so long I should have known my luck would eventually wear off.

Aster the Terrible, my name, plagued the noblemen of the Four Kingdoms well into the depths of the night. They all knew what I could do and they all hated me for it because they knew how impossible I was to catch.

           The underground prison is dark, dank, and smells faintly of rotting feet. The only light comes from the torches in brackets every ten feet down the cellblock. The flickering light casts odd, dim shadows on everything and can seriously mess with a man’s eyes if he let them. The walls are made of heavy gray stones carefully piled on each other and cemented together—nothing can be wedged between the stones, nothing can dig around them.

The doors on the cells are barely wide enough for a regular man. They’re made of iron bars. No amount of rust, or scraping, or kicking, can break them. The lock on the door is a padlock, roughly the size of my fist and made for a special key and that key alone. Nothing can pick it. Just as well. There’s nothing in the cell beyond me, bad memories, and a moldy pile of straw that has been my sorry excuse of a bed for the past nine months and fourteen days.

          It drives me crazy to think about the freedom I once had. It has died. The pompous and snotty Prince Maffio stole it the day he stuck the key into the lock on my shackles. He ended my reign of plunder, and won our two-year feud.

          That day when I was caught is listed among the most horrible moments of my life. It’s up there (or maybe I should down there, since it wasn’t very uplifting) with the two times that I bumped into the Secret Keeper. I got away from the Secret Keeper. I wasn’t so lucky in getting away from Maffio and the Nansterdome version of ‘justice.’

The memories of that day burn with a kind of scorn that time won’t soothe. Nor will my mind let them be; reviewing them day in and day out trying to figure out exactly what had gone wrong. It’s simple really. My best friend sailed me down the river for a sack of gold. Why my mind can’t leave that fact be, I don’t know. I’ve gone over that sickening day in June hundreds of times. I can’t seem to change it, or accept that it happened, despite the fact that I’ve been rotting in prison since.

          I suppose I shouldn’t really be surprised. Jackalton Mahoney was always a bit flighty. But I find it mildly amusing that he worked so hard to convince his father to not leave me to die after my first run-in with the Secret Keeper only to land me in this deathtrap prison ten years later. I still can’t figure out why he did it. I can’t really blame him. I probably would have done the same thing to him.

          What makes me the angriest is the thought of what he’s doing with my loot. I stole enough riches to equal a small fortune. Little bits and pieces building up over eight years, all from different parts of the Four Kingdoms. I’m probably the only thief who can say I’ve stolen at least some small trinket from each crown castle—Nansterdomian, Illfildellian, Karkruffian, and Silverdalian.

          Jackalton has probably taken all eight years worth of my loot and bought himself a nice little estate. He’s living in glutton while I sit here and starve in the prison he landed me in. I hope he’s caught in his lies. Someone has to catch him eventually, right? I’d laugh myself unconscious if he got paraded down here.

          So far I haven’t had anything to laugh about, except to laugh at myself and my own stupidity at trying to think up ways of escaping. I stopped hoping for some kind of miracle to allow me to escape. But I’ve still spent plenty of long hours dreaming about escaping this prison and my death sentence that looms in the future about five years from now.

 The chances of escape are extremely slim. That’s what the lower dungeons in each of the Four Kingdom’s crown castles were designed for. The dungeons have been used a bit more now that the feuds between the Four Kingdoms have grown bitter.

So here I am, Aster the Terrible, the man who could not be caught stuck in this dull prison with no escape. The only time that I’ll be let out of this dreary cell will be the day in five years and some months that I won’t come back. The day that I’m going to get hung for my crimes. Apparently I had enough of them stacked up to land me in prison for five years. The only thing Prince Snotty was good at, making sure none of my crimes went unnoticed.

Except for he forgot that one where I snitched a pie from some lady’s window. I doubt pointing that out to him would help my cause much. Prince Maffio would probably lob another ten years on me. He’s always prattling on about helping the poor and needy. He never does much except for imprison those who ‘torment’ the poor and needy meaning he should lock himself up. But I wouldn’t want him in my cellblock. He’d be one of those annoying neighbors that never shuts up no matter what you chuck at him.

I press my hands against my head trying to shut my last sight of Maffio out of it. I never realized how much memories can haunt you. I’d like a break from walking Memory Lane. I’d even take another run-in with the Secret Keeper to break the monotony.

The corner on the far side of my cell has become like a second home to me. It’s furthest from the door and what I deem as safe. The guards tend ignore you when they can’t see you. Sometimes I try to sleep, but it never comes easily. Other times I stare at the wall trying to convince myself that death by boredom is not the way to go.

I’m currently sitting with my back in the corner and my boots pressing against the opposite wall. I stare over my feet at the wall struggling to shove thoughts out of my head. Dreamy thoughts of escape, wringing Jackalton’s piggy neck, and food that looks like food and not like something that looks, smells, and tastes like yak upchuck. I think it’s time I grew up and smelled the burning bacon. I’m stuck.

As I’m grinding my backbone against the cell wall, I start to hear voices. It’s nothing distinct, far away, and very strange to hear. One of the first things that drove me crazy about this prison is how quiet it is. I was used to the never-ending voice of nature, having spent most of my life on the run. Stillness in the world outside this prison never means anything good.

I didn’t realize I’d gotten so used to the deadening silence until I hear the voices coming down the cellblock. They’re strange, almost foreign, like they’re speaking Karkruffian instead of the common tongue.

I start to hear the footsteps of the approaching party. Quite a few footsteps and among them there’s a pair that really sets itself apart from the others. Clunk, clomp. Like the owner of the feet is wearing two different kinds of shoes, one high-heeled the other flat, and is stumbling along with his flat-shoed companions.

The voices are getting closer. They don’t sound pleased to be here. Ah, probably a prison escort. I look up from my boots and through the cell bars wanting to see the doomed man they’re hauling down here. It’s very rare that a prisoner gets chucked into a cell near me. I’m kept in the furthest used cellblock before it comes too close to the unused torture chamber.

Clunk, clomp, clunk clomp.

I watch the flickering shadows as people walking down the cellblock. Trying to count the men walking down the cellblock proves difficult thanks to the torches. I can tell that there are at least five guards, and one man of rank approaching. As far as I can tell, they’re not dragging anyone. No shackled man to toss in this dull monotony today. But this only perks my curiosity further. If there’s no prisoner, why are they coming down here?

I expect them to walk on pass, but I hear the jingle of keys. The whole group stops at my cell door. Curiosity squelched. I no longer want to know what they’re doing. It hasn’t been five years. Only nine months! What are they doing here? Has Maffio finally convinced his father to hang me?

The lock clinks and jingles as the head guard slips the key inside. There’s an oily click and the lock is pulled free from the cell door. With a creak befitting a haunted house, the cell door is opened. A torch handed to the man of rank, illuminating him from top to bottom.

          My lips curl up in disgust as I look at him. He only has one leg. It’s clad in an expensive leather boot. The other is a plain wooden peg leg starting below his right knee. That’s new. He had a matching pair of feet the last time I saw him.

          I let my eyes slide up him from his peg leg, to the royal crest on his black silk vest, and on up to his clean-shaven face, a young face, he’d be in his late teens by now. A sneer crosses my face and I do absolutely nothing to get rid of it. This is the sniveling pup that spent so much time tracking me down and who was the one to eventually catch me. What does Snotty want now?

Prince Maffio’s blue eyes spark. He glares at me with the utmost disgust. His lips pucker as he says, “Aster the Terrible, the king has requested your help.”
Ah yes. Good things must come to an end. You can buy the rest of the book on Amazon.
Print copy here,
Kindle here

Almost done linking here, see my Facebook page for Twisted. If you liked this, please share it!
Thanks so much! Tayla out. ;)

Wednesday, November 6, 2013


This is a follow up post from yesterday. The Amazon store has Twisted listed already. You can now purchase my book.
The author screams with joy as she writes this. So many years I spent thinking this moment would never happen and now it has. I am beyond words to describe this feeling. =D

Here is where you can buy a print copy of my book through Amazon,

Tuesday, November 5, 2013


Guess what???
Twisted is done. It is officially done. After 6 drafts, two rough edits, two and a half years of writing, dreaming and arguing with myself, my book is done.
This is surreal. I've spent so many years dreaming about how it would feel to write something like this. I've been trying to get a book published since I was ten, dream come true. I've been looking at quotes about dreams or at least noticed some on Facebook, and a lot of them said that the distance between a dream and reality is work.
I've done the work.
Two and a half years' worth.
So here's proof that dreams can come true. I mean this year has been both a crazy nightmare of roller-coaster emotions with my sudden change in health, school, and family, but it's also been the realization of several dreams. It took a lot of waiting (sometimes fairly impatiently) and work. None of this happened overnight, but I firmly believe that anyone can accomplish anything they put their mind to.
Want proof?
Well I'm an eighteen-year-old girl and I'm a published author. It took a lot of teeth gritting and a hard set mind to get to this point. I don't know anyone else who's my aged and a published author, so I'm feeling pretty successful. :)
It will be 5-7 days before Twisted is available in the Amazon store, but that's the company, not me. I'm done. The only thing I have left to do is to find ways to help you get my book. I wrote this book for you, it's no longer mine, my characters partially belong to you now and I want you to be able to enjoy them as much as I have. I'll let you know when you can buy the print copy, I'm keeping a close watch on Amazon.
On Friday I'm going to be previewing my first chapter on my blog. You can't miss it! Please (on hands and knees ;D) share this with your friends and family. I was told once that I wasn't much of an inspiration by a person I thought was a friend, but I want to share my story with as many people as I can. If my roller-coaster life can inspire, then I want to help. :)
Yes this year has been a crazy one, but I feel so much braver now than I did at the start. Yes this girl wasn't brave enough to talk to someone she didn't know, now she's cantering on a part shark part horse, publishing a book, and getting layers cut in her hair. Yeah. I want change, I've already snipped my bangs off Taylor Swift style (I'll post pictures later) and now I'm getting layers cut in my hair, Lindsey Stirling style.
Also, the sun is coming up and it snowed. Holiday season people! Woo! I used to dread the Holidays because of the tense family relations, but now even the horrible relationship I had with my cousins has eased, I talked with one for almost an hour!
Check back for the preview of the first chapter in Twisted!

Here's my Facebook page,
Please share this as much as you can, I can't do much if people don't notice that my book is out there. Thank you so much!

Here's Twisted on Amazon. It's only the Kindle for now, but the print copy will appear in the store in (yes, you know ;D) 5-7 days.

Monday, November 4, 2013


Ever had one of those bad days when it seemed that everything was combining against you? You woke up two hours before your alarm, couldn't fall back to sleep, then you suffered through endless schoolwork that was so dull you felt as though you were dying and then you see that something you worked hard on was an epic failure.
Yep. That's me today.
Except it was only an hour before my alarm and I chose to wake up.
The print copy of Twisted may be delayed even further, the cover is arguing with me and I'm seriously reaching the end of my rope and I've got some impressive rope burns from sliding down it. ;)
Yesterday I was so sick I could barely sit up, that lack of energy is following me today even though I'm somewhat better. I want to sit on the couch and do nothing but watch TV and that normally doesn't happen. I hate watching TV. Yes. I know. A teenager that despises TV. Let's clarify here, I hate watching things with no plot, or with plots that I can predict. There's a TV show that I can literally mouth every word the characters are about to say even though I've never seen them before, but I've seen so many things like it that when it comes to the show I already know what's going to happen.
I hate predictability. I want to be surprised!
But not like the surprise I got today. It was a nasty one. The original cover was too dark because of the layer I had behind it when it was flattened. I tried fixing that, but I did it wrong and now I have to fight it some more and I'm tired of arguing with it, hence the "only want to watch TV" mood.
But I am happy to announce that I fixed a problem that's been bugging me for years. It used to be that on Sunday to Monday nights I couldn't sleep. It was a regular occurance for me to stay up until 3 because I couldn't fall asleep. I figured out the problem completely on accident. I was staying up too late and wiring myself (meaning my body was tired, but it was wired to stay awake) and on a Sunday when I'd had enough and went to bed at 9:40 a time I rarely hit the sack at, I slept like a rock.
Okay so I'll give myself this credit, this year I learned how to solve problems. :)
Now if only I could figure out how to fix my cover. It's the only thing holding me back.

Check out my Facebook page for Twisted

And the Kindle edition

Thursday, October 31, 2013


Today was probably among the best days I've ever had. Not because it was Halloween. My family doesn't really celebrate it, though I really don't mind free candy :)
I woke up somewhat early today and finally managed to finish a chapter that had been given me trouble for some time. I went with my violin teacher to work with her horses and it was awesome! Gypsy was such a good girl, even though I was flopping all over her back. I got a lesson from my teacher and I'd say it was the best riding lesson I'd ever gotten. Usually when I take a riding lesson I'm getting barked at for not doing it right and I sit there trotting and walking in endless circles wondering if I'll ever progress further than a trot.
My violin teacher thought I was ready for the canter. It was like flying, I managed to keep a good seat through parts of it, and my helmet was flopping all over my head, but it was purely awesome. I've got to keep that experience in mind for when Aster (my main character) rides the fictional Gypsy. I was clinging to her mane, focused on going where I needed, but my chest was fluttering with how amazing it was. According to my teacher I'm an intermediate beginner. It was good to know that seven years worth of riding lessons and bouncing barns paid off. My teacher said that maybe by next year I'd be ready to show.
The only downfall to working with Gypsy was that she tore a chunk of my thumb off with her teeth. Don't get too freaked out, it was just the top layer. I was giving her a treat and she got my finger. I was kind of stunned, feeling the pain and wondering what I should do. I ripped my thumb away a little shocked to see the torn skin. My thumb is okay now, but lesson learned, I should've had my hand flatter when I offered the treat!
When I got home there was a surprise waiting. My younger sister tore open the door and told me what I wanted to hear, my book had arrived while I was gone. I finally got to hold a physical copy of Twisted today. It was surreal. No more dreaming, no more imagining. It was real.

It was amazing to see. To feel. My family was freaking out with amazement. Ahh. I feel complete today.

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Gone Mad

It's a true statement. All writers (at least the ones I know) are a little mad. We spend hours upon hours by ourselves with a computer and a keyboard and imaginary people. I think that I've tipped the scales of mad and gone towards crazy.
Yes the crazy train has left the station with Tayla Durham aboard.
Today was another bad day. I saw an interview with a famous author on TV and while it was somewhat encouraging I felt crushed. How on earth would I ever attain that level? That they would interview me on a TV channel that hardly anyone watches?
Crush. Bang. Crash.
It's difficult to play the violin and cry, I'm just going to say that, at least the violin was noisy enough to hide the fact that I was sobbing and giving it a bath in my tears. (=D)
About the crazy, well I'm desperate for anything. As I was playing and crying an idea popped into my head. I'm going so slooow on publizing Twisted so I figured why not.
Here's where it gets a bit crazy. You may have to cringe away from this one. In no means am I big on Facebook, the most time I've spent was probably an hour and that was to make a Facebook page for Twisted, (you can see it here, feel free to like, I'll love you forever if you do ;D) and today was no different, but I did something crazy.
I went onto several author pages, authors that I greatly respect and their books have given me courage and ideas for my book. I went onto their pages and left a message practically begging for help.
Don't think I'm crazy?
I do.
I was mumbling "Tayla, you're crazy!" as I did it.
Now we'll just see if any of them respond.
I doubt they will, but I suppose it was worth a try. Better to shoot than just to hold the gun and hope the prey comes to you.
Sorry horrible analogy that I just made up.
Anyway, I'm still gritting my teeth over the whole job option, but I'm pointing towards Gardner Village, it's a historical town somewhat nearby. I wouldn't mind working there, it has an atomosphere a bit like Tilt, a town in Twisted. I really don't like the idea that it means that I'll be making money. That sounds wrong, ummm I mean I don't like the idea that I'll be making money, thereby meaning that I'll be opening the door for tax and then debt and just to be clear I'm in a financial lit class and thereby have been learning WAAAY too much about debt and the whole enchilada.
And that was a really long paragraph. My editor would not approve. She kept telling me to make. my sentences. short.
Yes, so I'm feeling a little wild, a little worried that the authors I messaged are going to think I'm a total lunatic. I'm struggling here and I read the biography of one of the authors and I know that this author started out in the same place as me, plus he's the same religion as me, so I think that he might (no crossed fingers here!) help.
But I've had a bad history of asking for help and getting none. Take all the riding instructors I called and emailed last year for example. Practically every single riding stable in the state of UTAH! Okay, all the ones I could find online and in the phone book. Yes. I was desperate enough to use those good ol' yellow pages. I hate using the phone and it killed me to not get an answer. I left message after message and got nothing. Then one stable I got a riding lesson from wouldn't call back and...augh! long story short I'm kind of nervous.
I'm scrambling for ideas, literally. I don't know what to do! That's why I'm so scared. They say fear comes from the loss of control (which is why I hate elevators and mines and mine elevators for a double whammy!) and I feel like I'm on a really big horse and the reins just slid through my fingers. I'm groping for them. Nada.
I feel like I'm in that scene from Tangled where Flynn asks Rapunzel if she's okay and she says that she's terrified that her dream won't be as good as she imagined.
Unfortunately I don't have a roguishly handsome man asking me if I'm okay. I have myself and my suddenly busy family. It seems like the more I need them the busier they get. Especially my sister. Oh if only I could talk to her for longer than five minutes and not have that "well" moment. She understands how I feel and was the one to tell me that there must be something great planned for my book.
I don't feel so now.
If there's something so great, why is it getting ignored?
I drew a picture of my villain (sorry, he objected to the simple statement of "bad guy") and colored it in because I wanted to see the color scheme of him. He's hanging on my wall now and every time I look at him (creepy skull and all) and I want to cry. Will all that work and struggling to create something with a whole different world be ignored? Did I waste my time working on creating a dynamic villain when I should have been working in a job?
I don't know. I really don't know.
Fear is the loss of control and from the unknown. Perhaps I'm afraid because I don't know what's going to come tomorrow (and by tomorrow I mean like forever in the future) and because I really don't have much control that I can see.
Either way I should still be proud of myself. I've done the impossible. I'm eighteen-years-old and I am a published author. I was always a bit crazy to begin with, so why not? Why can't I achieve the impossible? Who was so bold as to say that I, Tayla Durham, couldn't have a best seller?
I give you all permission to laugh at me when it happens. You can leave endless comments of hahahahahaha told you so!
For I am not a quitter.
I began this journey
and I intend to finish it.
I did not begin to quit
And I'm not going to quit because it got hard.
For I am not a quitter!

Here's my Facebook page for Twisted, I'm trying to keep it up to date, but lately I've been trying to finish another book. I'll take more pictures, promise :)

And here is where you can purchase a Kindle version of Twisted on Amazon.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

I'm Waiting Just Waiting

You know how it feels when you're waiting for something? How everything seems to take twice as long if you want it to happen and then goes twice as fast when you don't? Yeah I'm in that kind of a mood right now.
My dad ordered a proof copy of Twisted for me. It's just to polish it up and to see the final results. The predicted day for it to arrive is November 4th. So faaar away from here....:(
Yesterday I went to the opening party for my section of NaNoWriMo (National Writing Month of November) it was fun until I started talking to some of the other authors there. I mentioned that I was published and was practically attacked. The person I was speaking to did not seem impressed that I was a published author and went on to blah about how it was impossible for an author to make a living by "just writing" UNLESS you have a best seller.
Steam in my ears I still managed to be polite.
I don't think there's anything else that I can really do BESIDES write. I have no patience for rude people and tend to rip them a new one where they least expect it (hehehe) if I got a job at a fast food restaurant you guys would never hear the end of "this person did this" "that person did that" and I'm bored just writing that.
In other words I'm really struggling with what to do. On one hand I DO NOT UNDER ANY KIND OF CIRCUMSTANCE EVEN UNDER DEATH ITSELF WANT TO GET A JOB!!!!! Yes, that ought to get my feelings about that across quite nicely. I look at the people I know with jobs and they way they answer questions about what they're doing with their lives and it's always "Oh, I'm working."
*Nazgul scream, which I know how to do, by the way. You suck air in.
It's NEVER been a goal of mine to be owned by a company that only wants me for money. Honestly is EVERYTHING about $$$!?
Buuut on the other hand I don't want to get stuck in a financial bend because I didn't get a job soon enough and die an, as Anne of Green Gables puts it "old maid."
It's also kind of frustrating because every is practically screaming at me to get a job when I really don't want one, don't know if I'm ready for one, and am generally unhappy with the whole stupid situation. A good friend acts as though getting a job is the "grown up thing to do" and I'm not sure if I'm ready to "grow up" either.
Yes, I'm eighteen. Yes that immediately entitles some kind of responsibility but what if I DO NOT want to follow societies norms? I mean honestly and I ask this of myself, when have I ever followed societies norms? I don't care about the latest fashions, I don't like showing every ounce of skin that I possibly can, and I'm not into singers (though Taylor Swift, the Piano Guys and Lindsey Stirling often grab my attention) and I could honestly care less about actors, except Prince Caspian, mmm that boy is fine. ;)
I don't want to grow up and be like the rest of the world. Seriously! I don't want to follow the middle class trends. Someday I want to write about how happy I am being financially independent and able to help. It frustrates me because my dad has been helping me through the efforts of  getting my book published and I don't even have enough money to buy him a stupid candy bar to say thank you.
You know those coming of age stories where the character makes a vastly important decision about how his or her life is going to go? I feel like I'm at that point but I don't know what to choose. The future is such a mystery that I want to scream every time I think about it.
And the saddest thing for me is that I keep telling people that I HAVE a job already and that I am VERY happy with it and I would be generally UNHAPPY if I had to give it up. I write. Words. Words. Words. In fact, if one will get technical, I've already completed NaNoWriMo, or I could finish it in two weeks. Seriously! It's that easy for me to get 50,000 words! And it seems like my talent, my love for writing is being OVERLOOKED! It makes me want to grab my hair and throw a fit. In the "grand scheme of things" I will still be an author, and I will keep writing until the day that I am physically incapable of doing so, and even that will not stop me from composing stories.
I know that before we were born we lived and with that knowledge comes the revelation that even before I was born I was making up stories. Even as a little girl I was creating worlds of my own. Is that going to be overlooked? Will that be ignored? It makes me miserable to consider. I like what I'm doing already and if the world can't accept that fact or even tries to take it away from me then I will never be whole.
I apologize for this very long rant, but it feels marvelous to put my words down somewhere. No one will listen. They're all far too busy to be concerned with the woes of an eighteen-year-old who doesn't want to be grown up yet. I wish that those around me would tell me that they are proud of what I have done instead of telling me to "stop bragging" about it. It's been building up all week and now, emotional upheaval, spilling out.
I don't want everything that I have done to be overlooked and ignored. Being able to write 50,000 words (that's about 175 pages , depending on your font and font size) in two weeks is not something everyone can do. Will that be ignored to fit in the "grand (STUPID) scheme of things"?
I'm sorry. It's a lot of frustration on my part.
Exhausted and emotionally torn, Tayla out.

Thursday, October 24, 2013

Watch Me

The print copy is taking longer than I thought to get ready. Oops.
I spent most of Saturday formatting the book's text and fighting with page margins. Turns out when you shrink the page margins your book gets longer. This is probably common sense for some people, but I never put two and two together to realize that. With 1.5 spacing and the new page margins Twisted went from 337 (about) to 623 pages! Whoa. I was a little bothered that the book was only 300 pages(ish) but 600 pages? Um...unless I'm trying to write the next American thriller book, that's WAY too long.
I shrunk the spacing from 1.5 to single. Now it's a respectable 423 pages long. I can live with that. What I'm not very happy with is how much of the royalty I'm NOT getting. The book is going for about $13.50 in American money (I'm new to this so I don't know how to calculate money from other countries) and I only get $1 from that. Um....hello? (short gripe) I wrote the book. Why are they getting all of the royalty?
Yeah that was a real shocker to see last night, I was reasonably upset to see how little I was getting. Why do the publishing companies get all the money for the author's hard work? Anyway, I'm holding my chin high. No one expects me to succeed. In fact I wouldn't be too shocked to learn that people expect me to fail. Like one of my relatives who gave me a well aren't you adorable? kind of look when I told them I was writing a book. I'm sure that they thought it was impossible for a stupid little kid like me (and I was a stupid little kid. Weren't we all?) to be able to write and publish a book.
Can't wait to show them the print copy of Twisted and say "Yeah. I wrote and published this. What did YOU do this week?"
Expect me to fail? Don't expect me to succeed?
Watch me.
I've done things in this past year that surprised myself. I stayed on a cantering horse (major accomplishment, first time I did that I nearly flew from the horse's (Scarlett, not Gypsy, I don't think Gypsy would allow me to go soaring off of her) back when she took a corner too sharply) I managed to survive the woes from the editor. I DREW THE COVER FOR A BOOK!!!! And I didn't even know I could draw that well on the computer. Go figure. Then I learned how to read html, how to fix the dpi and size of images. How NOT to quit when things go wrong. Then I read the entire Lord of the Rings series in a month.
In other words I've surprised myself. There have been times when I look at what I've done and I don't see it as an accomplishment. That's stupid. I'm published and I'm only eighteen. It would've been when I was seventeen....buuut the editor took longer than I expected, but oh well, her work was excellent.
What I'm trying to say is, who knows? Who knows what's going to happen? I refuse to think that my book won't ever be noticed. I KNOW it will be. The reason I kept going was because I firmly felt that my book needed to be read that there were people who needed to read it.
So now I just need to finish the print version. Sheesh.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

The Goodbye Before Hello

I know I sometimes seem to go on forever about death (wraiths) but I need to take a moment and write about the importance of life.
Some of you may be wondering what happened about two weeks  ago  (the something awful has happened) that was so traumatic that I'd write that. For a full explanation you need the back story. Roughly three and a half years ago my youngest sister (at the time) died and was a still born. It was the first time a death had happened in my family and we were all so shocked we literally could do nothing but stare at each other and cry over the tiny body of my sister.
It was shocking.
Even more was when a year later in I think it was April, maybe early May my mom told me that she was once again pregnant. Unfortunately my older sister, father, and I were the only ones who officially knew because shortly after Hope (the baby) was miscarried.
It was horrifying. We honestly couldn't believe that it would happen to us again.
And then roughly a month ago my parents announced that my mom was pregnant for the ninth time. I was a little disconcerted by this because I would be 18  years old than the baby, but I didn't need to worry about it. Two weeks later I heard my mother talking in her bathroom. It was one of those things, you know? Where you just know that something awful has happened? I knew without question that when my mother told me that the first baby (my still born sister) hadn't moved in two days that my sister was gone.
I knew when my mom was crying in the bathroom after spotting blood with Hope that Hope was no more.
I knew while listening to my mom talking in her bathroom that it was going to happen for a third time.
Is this some weird sister sense? I suppose I knew from the start that my still born sister wouldn't join our family. I didn't want to think that way with Hope and Jason.  We all hoped that Jason would be different, that he would join our family instead of leaving it before we even saw him.
It's weird now because my mom was craving all kinds of food when she was pregnant with Jason. We used to joke about it and I miss hearing her talk about how the baby wants orange juice and nine o'clock at night.
Some people may claim that because Jason was miscarried at 12 weeks he wouldn't even qualify as a person. I don't think those people have souls. My brother was very much alive and very much a person and I miss him. I really wish that I could have seen him alive, at least for one hour before God called him home.
Truthfully I'm kind of scared to be a mother. I know that's probably years from now, but still. I've seen too much death to NOT be worried. I don't know if I could handle it if it happened to me. It's why I admire my mom. She's incredibly strong, holding us together even though she's hurting. Thank you, Mom.
Because of this sudden  and completely unexpected death, my writing has become a little bitter. I'm writing the back story of the Secret Keeper and am currently at the time when his living self dies. It makes me so sad because I never expected to feel the emotions of his family as strongly as I do. Death is unexpected. It's not very welcome, especially when I had to say goodbye before I was allowed to say hello.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Oh What a Week

This has been an incredibly long week. I became a published author, played in an trio for the first time and got two enormously large (and probably infected (oops!)) blisters on my ankles.
I'm glad it's over, I'm currently stuck in Friday clothes, you know that stuff you bury at the back of your closet with a desperate promise that it will never see the light of day? Yeah. That kind of clothing, needless to say I'm not a happy camper about my outfit right now.
It has also been a year since I began playing the violin. To celebrate that I shook and quivered my way through a recital. I was just fine playing Gavotte, I mean I've been playing it since May (it will not disappear!) until I suddenly realized that I was playing in front of a bunch of people and suddenly, without any kind of warning I lost my place.
Also since May we've been working on a music piece for a trio. Two violins and the piano. We finally preformed it last night and to be honest I only knew what I was doing through the first half of the song. Second half I was making up all the timing, ah rests, they are a pain for beginners. It's also the first song that I've played in third position on and I think that was the best part of the second half was how fast I could go from first position to second position and back.
Amazingly though I managed to keep in time. My only mistake was in the last part of the song where I counted wrong and had to skip a few notes to keep up. Oh well, I didn't like that part anyway, I didn't know how to count it until one day before the recital. I was also in danger of having my A string snap in my face. It began fraying and has been replaced with a brand spanking new string.
Anyone who understands violins will understand why I am cringing. New strings have a tendency to go out of tune in about five minutes, even less if you're lucky. Though I did get to play on a beautiful $23,000 French violin. It had a deep voice, but I like my tiger-striped violin better.
As for my book...well I've decided to take everything as a victory. I'm proud of what I've done, because honestly? I've never met another 18-year-old who has done what I have. I have met other teen authors, but most of them looked at me like I was a freak and a half. I'm sorry that I'm original. It's not my fault. :)
And I love my mom. Special shout out to her. She's really sad because of the sudden and really unexpected death of my little brother Jason, but she's still there for me. She's been advertising my book to her friends and sister. Thank you, Mom. I couldn't have done any of this without you. :)

Wednesday, October 16, 2013


Guess what!? Twisted is officially available in the Kindle store! It was quite the shocker to see MY BOOK on AMAZON!!!
So you may be wondering how I am feeling to be a published author...well, yesterday, not so great. I felt like a failure. I literally felt as though I had failed because not a single person had even LOOKED at Twisted,okay, I don't know how true that is, but when I looked at other author's books, like Rick Riordan's new book (the title just slipped my brain) who had 480 reviews after five days, I crashed.
I'm sorry, I'm kind of ranting at myself. It is so stupid for me not to look at what I have done and where I have come and NOT be proud of myself.
I made this reminder for myself,
I made that picture in January 2011 maybe 2012. I don't remember which January. Long story short, it's been hanging on my wall for a really long time. I didn't make my goal last year, but this year I did it.
If you can't read it (and I don't blame you, iPod pictures tend to be like that =D) it says "October 15, Be there" as a reminder to myself to get published on the 15th.
The Done part says that I am...well done. I accomplished my goal and I will be happy with myself because I did it.
I'm not saying that I'll be thrilled if no one buys it. I wrote it so people could read it, but I will be proud of myself nonetheless (whoa, that's a really long word!)
I can't lie and say that it was an easy goal to reach. It was hard! I was clawing and scrabbling and crying a lot. Things happened and I felt like I'd been kicked in the chest and I quit for maybe an hour. I'm terrible at quitting permanently. Unless you count my art class I was glad to see that sucker go.
Here's the truth, there is not a single part of me that is not in that book. I put everything I had. Everything. I gave up hours upon hours to write it, I gave up part of my social life, watching TV, video games, even and oh, I dare say it, sleep! And because of that effort, my book has a soul. It's touched me. It's aided me in my life. Now it's no longer completely mine. I wrote it for people to read. I wrote it for you to read. If you don't want to even look at it, fine, that's your choice not mine. My choice is this, because of all the effort I put into my book, all the hours and thoughts I forced myself to spend on Twisted I KNOW it will be successful. I will be happy knowing that fact. I accomplished my goal. I'm published before graduating high school. That's not something everyone can claim.
Here is my reminder to me.
I did it.
Rachel K. Johnson did an interview for the release of my book on Kindle. You can see it here.

And if you want to check out my book in the Amazon Kindle store. $2.99 will get you a copy of it and it's in the Amazon lending library!

I apologize for not having it out in print yet. I know, it's driving me crazy as well. I've spent so much time looking at my book on an electronic device that seeing it on the Kindle is pretty much like seeing it on my computer, except I can't delete things. :) The print version will be available as early as the 19th (this Saturday, the day I'm hoping for) or as late as the 31, Halloween. Duh. :)