Claws Ready, but Unneeded

Following up from my previous post, yes I did switch to institute (for those of you who are unaware of what that is, it's the grownup version of seminary) and my first class was today.
It was so much better!
I'll admit, my claws were poised and ready, but I had no need for them. I got along with a lot of people and I was FINALLY not a chair. It was nice to be among people dressed normally, with normal mindsets, and not one from the school I was taking seminary at. I'm dropping seminary. They say it's good for all students, but it was about as useful to me as putting my hand on a hot iron. I think I've matured past that point (if you met me you'd probably wonder how I consider myself mature. I can be a real nut at times.) I'm tired of cliques, of hazing, of popularity contests, you know, I'm TIRED of high school in general.
Yes, and you will be amazed to know that I actually got something out of the lesson. It seemed to be custom made for me. It was about softening your heart, and I've been hardhearted and guarded for a week. I walked out of that class smiling. :)
Another fun thing to note, I have nothing to write. I have several stories that I'm considering, but not entirely sold on writing. I took this week off from writing to give my brain a break from being creative, (yeah, it didn't go well. I get soooo bored when I don't write. I watched Disney Channel's Good Luck Charlie all day on Wednesday. I'm tired of being lazy (whoa, that's ironic!))
I'm taking today completely off from writing, I kind of broke my "no writing" rule on the other days of this week.
Oh and good news, I'm going to Elsie Park's book party (sorry, just spaced the proper name, that's how my brain works) I'm super excited because I've never been to one before and I'll get a book signed! The only signed copy of a book that I own is by Brandon Mull and it was a already signed book, I didn't actually meet him :( though if I did, I'd thank him. He gave me an idea for my book. Elsie's book, BTW is called Shadows of Valor, it comes out on September 7 of this year and looks incredibly awesome. (For more on this I did an interview with Elsie on my blog, it's appropriately called that.)
And for the record, I don't use so many parentheses in my book. I can only think of TWO places where I did, Aster really isn't a parentheses guy, neither is the Secret Keeper.
More exciting news, I'm published! No, not with Twisted, it's a short cheesy story that my mom went all crazy about. It's on Amazon called Wizard Wanderings by Tayla Durham (duh! =D) Three people have bought it, I'm incredibly rich, just rolling in my sixty cents. ;)
http://www.amazon.com/Wizard-Wanderings-Continuing-Story-ebook/dp/B00EPTWH1M/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1377885414&sr=1-1&keywords=wizard+wanderings
Here's the incredibly long link to Amazon. You can check it out if you want, but if you don't, I can't say that I blame you. Short stories are not my rosy cup of tea. There's no time for proper character development, or world development, or even a proper bad guy! Yes, I prefer my books to be longer, but this was for school, so what can I say? But if you're looking for a short story it's only $1 and free if you're a prime member (wink, wink.)
My final thought of the day, I'm taking a photography class (I love taking pictures that tell a story!) and here's one I took for an assignment. I call it Sunflower. Maybe I'll rename it Rise Above, kind of has that flare, doesn't it?

Yes, you can tell I'm in a better mood. I RAMBLE (hey, cookies!) when I'm happy. You should see me trying to write. My room is full of pictures (maybe I'll show you someday, a guided tour of where Tayla Durham wrote Twisted. (*pathetic eye roll at myself)) and other things that are very distracting and then there's YouTube, ah, my fatal flaw. YouTube.

The Clawed Beast Rises

Have you ever been in a situation that turned you into a clawed monster? Where you had to do everything it took to protect yourself from inevitable harm? Yeah, that was me yesterday. You can probably guess where this happened, that class that I've always been whining about. Truth here? It's seminary. I went because I thought it's where God wanted me to be, now I'm not so sure.
Want the story in gritty details? Here it is.
I spent most of the weekend dreading the return to seminary. The first class had passed and I could already tell it was going to be a hard year. My claws got ready to rise, and by that I mean I was preparing for war. It was like the men of Minas Tirith (yes, you knew a LOTR reference was coming) preparing for the Witch King's advances on them. I'd been hurt so many times, I wasn't willing to let anyone past the thick walls. My claws grew.
I sat in the front where I could easily pretend that the rest of the class didn't exist. First signs were good. A boy introduced himself to me. (it wasn't Steve. I wouldn't be having this freak out session if it was) and I became aware of a possible ally.
Then things turned sour. You know those loud people that are in every class, the ones that run on never-ending chatter boxes of evil? I had one of them, she seemed to exist on the groveling of others at her perfect feet. She couldn't shut up, even though the teacher had politely (in these exact words) to "shut her pie hole." She yammered on and on. I don't have tolerance for people like that, especially when the rest of the class seems to adore her.
then the unimaginable happened. The teacher chose seating arrangements and he was callous and unfeeling enough to put me right behind this girl. I was horrified! It was like being told that I had dive into shark infested waters while I was bleeding through an artery. Either by shark or loss of blood, I was dead.
This girl wouldn't shut it! She didn't acknowledge my presence, I was a chair to her. A chair whose desk she could comfortably rest her elbow without any retribution. My tolerance point had been reached. She was touching my things and not paying any attention to that fact. She had popped my bubble with her large, protrusive elbow.
Of course she missed all the warning signs. I was ready to stab her in the elbow with my pencil.
And as you know, because things couldn't get any better, the teacher had students introduce themselves. It went like this.
1. Your full name.
2. Favorite desert.
3. The cutest person in the class.
4. A face that describes you.
One at a time people rose, stated their names, favorite calorie hole, and almost every single person claimed that this wonderful, bubble-popping, arrogant girl was the cutest person in the class. She was lapping it up! I was stunned. My walled heart was throbbing. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that no one would name me as the cutest person in the class. It hurt so bad to see that stupid girl getting what I yearned for.
The teacher's attention was coming towards me, one student at a time. This girl proclaimed each person's name as adorable, or not worth her mention. I had to get out of there! Either that or I was going to stand up and proclaim for the world to hear, "My name is Tayla Breanna Durham, I like cheesecake and the cutest person in this class is not her! And my face is disgusted. Thank you."
That would have won me some brownie points don't you think? It was time to vacate.
Another girl stood up, announced her name, (don't ask me what it is) and once again this bubble-popping girl got proclaimed as the cutest person in the class. I snapped. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran for the bathroom with the anger and determination of a rhino intent on running down a tree. I couldn't stop angry tears from forming. I kicked the wall, but it did nothing to ease the throbbing hurt.
I stayed in the bathroom for about a minute and a half. According to the clock, class was over. I risked everything and left the safe premise. My sword was ready, as another teacher left the office of the seminary building, he said hi and I could barely force out the word in return.
I was walking like a fugitive. Slow, careful, knowing that every move could be my last. I'm sure my true form at this point was something like the Nazgul. Cloaked, hidden, faceless. A being tormented by anger and hate.
That girl stood at the front of the room offering the final prayer. I stood outside the door simmering. Once the other students' heads came up I made a beeline for my desk. It was crowded and I was stuffing in my scriptures, pencils, etc. a sudden desperation for freedom seized me. The girl stood to the side hugging her diligent servants and saying "You're in my seminary class!" as if she were queen and we were all graciously welcomed in.
Had she tried to approach me she would have ended up on the tip of a sword. I didn't want anything to do with her, especially not to be touched. I ran for the door, but the torment was not over yet. The teacher stood out there shaking hands with the students. I could have torn by, but that wouldn't be polite, though I doubt my thrusting of the hand into his and shaking once without looking at him would win an etiquette award.
I tore out of the building like a Nazgul on fire. I walked with every step booming in my ears to the car where my mom was waiting. I could hear the burbling laughter of the other students leaving, unaware of my silent screams. They were like a river, endlessly rushing on, ignoring my struggles as I tried not to drown.
It was over. I had drowned. I wasn't coming back.
I hurled myself into the car and commanded through angry tears for her to drive. For several long eternal seconds she just stared at me. I was dying, screaming on the inside for Mom to put the peddle to the meddle and get the heck out of there. Returning home, I was so heartsick, I couldn't function. I slept through most of the day and was too exhausted to get much else done. I was also angry. My heart had turned black. The softness that had slowly returned during summer had been hardened after two classes.
Why did that girl bother me so much? I don't know. Maybe it was because I had chosen to sit behind a possible ally and had ended up behind an enemy instead. Maybe it was because she was everything I longed to be. Popular, unafraid to voice her opinions, skinny, pretty, everyone loved her. Instead I'm me. Awkward, silent, less than perfectly bodied, not so pretty, and ignored.
My thoughts turned so viciously in that class, that it scares me now. I was rude to several teachers, ardently armed against the other students, and ready to draw blood if need arose, if I got so desperate to protect myself. In essence, for 24 hours, I turned into the Secret Keeper.
I don't think that going back is an option. It's turned into a living torment for me. I feel confident that dropping this class is the right thing to do. I'm going up to institute. I'm old enough now and I get along better with people who are older than me. I'm not entirely sure why.
My heart is throbbing now. Broken. My body stiffens with dread every time I think about going back. I'm not willing, I'm not able. I think it would be physically unhealthy for me to return. It's time to walk away.
But still. I had hope, and it was dashed.
Now wracked in pain my soul is screaming.
And no one can hear it.

She Rises Again

I have happy news! I finished the final edit of Twisted Saturday night at 11:30 pm! I'm not entirely sure of half of what I wrote, but hey! I like everything in it, the only things I want to change are the typos (reasonably.)
Oh plus, I should put chapter 15 back in. I kind of skipped over it. How you ask? Read it and see. :)
Anyway, I turned 18 over the weekend. I can officially be labeled as old. Before you ask, YES it was a good birthday, except for our late night visit to Silver Lake. There were bats flying around. I thought they were birds until I realized that normal birds don't fly around at night. I had the hood of my jacket over my head in a flash. I don't know if the myth is true and bats really do nest in your hair, but I wasn't taking a chance.
Also it was funny because only my brother and I thought to bring some kind of jacket. It was ridiculously cold in the mountains. I thought it was awesome that we were hiking in the dark (it was a short trail, and yes, I'll admit, not very reasonable) and it's what my characters do. I experienced what they do the first time (second, if one will get technical) that a wraith shows up. They're riding down the road and suddenly it gets dark, their torches die and their horses go absolutely berserk.
Aster bolts into the darkened forest to get away, I was looking at the trees around us and I was sure I'd pull an Allie. There was no way I'd run into the unknowns of a dark forest. I'd run down the path.
Yeah, and that's how Allie gets caught by our friend Happy the Wraith.
Allie btw, is one of my characters. Obviously. I needed a girl to balance out the boys, otherwise Aster and the Secret Keeper would probably strangle each other. Fun fact, her name has evolved from Leslander, Les, Jackie, finally my older sister said (not in so many words) "Allie! Just name the girl Allie!" and Alexandra Rose Taylor she became. Allie for short.
I've gone through some rough times with Allie. She didn't walk onto the page and say "Here I am. Love me or hate me." like Aster and the Secret Keeper did (I love both of them, I'd cry if someone took them away.) I didn't understand what drove the girl, why she did what she did. Eventually, after a lot of versions with a cardboard cut out of her, I managed to flesh Allie out. I get her now. She's angry because of the deaths in her family, she's constantly compared to her independent great uncle and she's ignored or taunted by the people in the kingdom she's living in.
All that equals one crazy girl that thinks up wild schemes to get attention, and it's not because she's greedy for it, but because she wants people to see HER, not her great uncle's memory living again in her.
It has taken quite a bit of time to get to know Allie like this. Now I think I could have her as a best friend, either that or I'd hate her, but isn't that how it goes with all people?
And yes, she is a blonde. But I like to call it sandy blonde, kind of brown, kind of blonde. I tried brown hair, and pure blonde but neither worked with her, so a lesson for the wise, if you run into trouble with the later drafts of your book, return to square one, your first draft, you'll realize you had more going than you originally thought. :)
Or you combine two drafts together. Confusing, but you can manage.

OOPS!

I apologize for skipping days. I didn't feel like blogging. >__<
Anyway, I just went birthday shopping and I'm feeling very proud of myself. I bought a signed copy of Seeds of Rebellion by Brandon Mull. Yes. It was a good shopping trip, despite the fact that I spent about 2 hours on Trax.
I also solved a vexing problem in Twisted this morning, so it's been a pretty good day.
Except.
And you knew this was coming.
Straight back to that class.
Yes. That class started today. The one I was complaining about earlier. Ow. I walked in looked around, shrank down and had to fight tears.
Steve wasn't there. I was alone.
It's going to be a long year. But at least I'm in 12th grade now. And for the record, I did solve my problem, somewhat. I've been debating about getting a job, but I couldn't decide what to do. Getting a job would mean dropping so much and I would go crazy! I'm not ready for it. So I prayed. I felt strongly that I shouldn't apply yet. My book is what I'm meant to do. I'm relieved, and slightly scared.
I'm also kind of worried about 12th grade. It's looking promising for a year worth of torture. I know, not a very good attitude, but 11th grade nearly killed me and I'm thinking I'd rather spend the day in a cactus armchair than an entire year repeating that class full of the same people who spent the entire year ignoring my very existence, I couldn't even bring myself to smile at the teacher's jokes. Terrible attitude, but MERCY! How long will this last? Will I be ignored for the rest of my life!?
ACK!
But on the flip side my book is almost ready! I just need to edit another 4 chapters and voila! All done. A few tweaks later, finished book, ready to go to the public on October 15th, 2013.
:)

This is called Tristan, it reminds me a good deal of the Secret Keeper (yes, the picture) I love it!

All Smiles

Yes, I'm all smiles again, and I felt like writing in a different color than I normally do, so please forgive me on this indulgence. I'm feeling much better than I was the last two posts. I've discovered over the past week, the best way to get over something that's bothering you is to simply put it aside and not think about it for at least 24 hours. Sometimes you just need to walk away.
I did this. I'm managing to break a smile again. I'm still worried, but hey, I'm surviving.
Anyway, this is the last week of summer vacation. You should all be very proud of me for managing to keep my posts going. I thought I wouldn't be able to do it.
I feel like I've progressed a lot since summer began. For one thing I can get a horse to jump while I'm on the ground and her back, and I only have nine more chapters until I'm done with the final (with some exclusions) edit of Twisted. My goal is to finish this week so I can start a new book and worry about that while school is going. Twisted is almost done. It's startling. I've been trying to do this for eight years, (yes, since I was ten, but I didn't get serious about writing until I turned fourteen)
It's been a very long journey since I started writing that book! Nearly three years. I've learned so much.
My goal of having my book published on October 15 is suddenly looking possible. Can it be true?
This morning I woke up early, I tipped over and started half-dreaming and in that daze I half-dreamt that I was at some center in Utah, (I've been here a lot, but I have no idea what it's name is, it's like the Energy-Solutions (I'm sorry, can't think of that as anything but the Delta!)) and they were having some kind of author convention. I tried walking in but some dippy, smiley woman told me that they didn't need me there.
I said. "Oh." And walked away.
I saw my dream-self sitting on the roof of my car (I looked rather cute) and as I was sitting there crying, some lady walked up to me and said, "Are you Tayla Durham?"
I said, "Yes. Why do you care?"
The lady looked relieved, "I'm so glad I found you! My son wanted to meet you and tell you something!"
I arched my eyebrows.
"He's inside with my husband, he spilled ice-cream down his front. Why aren't you in there?"
Rather gloomily I replied, "I was told I wasn't needed."
"By that lady at the front? She's the publicist of some jump start man who can't even write a sentence! Come in!" the woman said.
She didn't give my dream-self much choice. I was pulled in past the smiley woman who suddenly looked less happy. I took my place at the table with a bunch of copies of Twisted and a large cardboard cutout of Aster the Terrible by it. The moment I sat down a lot of people looked up and ditched the other tables they were at and rushed over to me. I was swarmed by a large crowd of people who rapidly threw themselves into a line begging for a signed copy of my book.
At this point I wasn't really sleeping and my head was starting to ache so I sat up. It was rather vivid for a dream. I could see almost every detail perfectly. It wasn't hazy or stupid like dreams can sometimes be.
I'm sorry if I bored you, it's just an image I want to hold onto. =D

This is Beauty in Walking Away (something like that) by Marie Digby. It's been my theme for the past week. Sometimes things can feel intense and hard, and the best thing you can do is walk away, get a new angle. It doesn't mean quitting, but you don't need to sit so close to the fire that your eyebrows get singed!

At this blank moment

I'm sorry. I don't have much to say. I'm still hanging on the balance of being okay, and then hysterical and I'm sure you don't want to hear every gory detail >__<
For those of you who have seen my Facebook page, yes, I'm feeling very pressured. Everyone is pushing me to do something and be something I'm not quite sure I'm ready to be or do yet. I'm still trying to adjust to all the changes going on and it doesn't help when I feel like I'm running with scissors on an incredibly long conveyor belt.
How do you tell people no? Especially when you care about their feelings? How do you explain why?
*Grabs hair and yells
But on the flip side I went with my sister, brother and my sister's boyfriend to a fun center last night and I decided that I'm okay with her boyfriend. First impressions can often be misleading. I got a friction burn from going down one of those inflatable slides and discovered it is more painful than the movies let on to be holding a rope and have people dragging you up.
I also punched myself in the face today by pulling on a jacket. Don't ask how. I'm not entirely sure. :)

End of my Rope

I've reached the end of my rope. It's like I'm getting barraged on every side with people screaming at me to do things. I'm inches from tearing my hair out (it's thick enough you wouldn't notice even if I did.)
Gah!
Reality. It can be a painful thing. I feel like I'm trapped. I've spent my entire life being poor and listening to everyone around me complain about not having enough money for anything. I'm screaming inwardly. I don't want to spent the rest of my life as the weak woman that sobs in the corner, too poor to breathe.
But it seems that I have no way to NOT be her.
The end of my rope is a very painful place to be.
It feels like I got so close to my dreams, but I didn't realize I had soap on my hands, and now they're slipping away.
Trapped.

I'm Learning

Editing.
Its roots must come from the Greek words for torture, evil, and above all else painful. And yet I'm enjoying it.
Yes, I'm the girl who threw a huge fit about how much I wanted to quit writing when my editor sent word back about my book. I pouted, cried, threw things and nearly took up knitting instead of writing.
Thankfully I managed to get back on my feet. One of my friends who is an author told me that editing is hard and can be painful, but in the end you might start to like it. After coming up with new material for the second book of Twisted (a book that has ALWAYS given me trouble) I'm happy to work with existing material that just needs a little polishing to shine.
I'm learning.
It's as easy as that.
At first, everything was new to me. I knew how to write, but I didn't know how to polish that writing. My editor told me I needed to lighten up on the telling and show things instead. I took that to heart. Telling is easy.
I was scared as I looked up.
That is telling. That is what my book was full of. (Oops!)
My heart hammered. Cold sweat dribbled down my forehead. I could barely convince myself to make lift my head. My eyes refused to open as I raised my chin. Seconds passed. My hands clenched. My eyes opened.
That is showing. See the difference? I feel it's a better way to grab your readers and get them to feel their own hearts pounding. It just takes longer to write. You really have to put yourself into your character's shoes and imagine how you'd feel in that situation.
I did this. I couldn't sleep a couple weeks ago so I went out into the family room down the hall from my room. I live in the basement and it used to be the dreaded place. None of us would go down there alone for fear of getting eaten by the monster we knew had to be down there.
I'd just come from a bright area and the room was dark. I could see the lights from the Wii and our HD converter box (a red light, often resembling an evil glaring eye to late night wanderers) but I couldn't see much else. It was too dark. I noticed right away what happened. My hands went to my chest. I kept myself small, making as little disturbance to the area around me as I possibly could. Every time I turned, my back felt exposed, like something was going to come and gnaw on it.
I wanted safety, comfort. I wanted to run to my room and flip on the light. I wanted a door between me and the darkness.
I was amazed. I'd never really paid attention to what I did in the darkness when I was afraid. I usually ran. (Yes, I am a wimp :D)
I used this and put it into Twisted where Aster was trying to sneak through the Secret Keeper's castle. In a scary place like that, you want to run where you're comfortable.
So using experiences like that, I'm able to tell. I've been in a lot of awkward situations where I wanted out. I used my own body language for the Secret Keeper, withdrawing, growing quiet, watching, listening and how I felt.
See, I'm learning. I can even tell the difference between my old writing styles and how I am now. It takes a lot of brainpower, but I'm happy. Plus, YouTube stopped crashing, so that's always a plus. :)
I'm going to start another blog about my experiences with horses (I just got back and I'm smelling lovely) Amy Miller my violin teacher is very good with horses. She taught her horses how to paint! Cheyenne can even play the piano.
Believe it or not, I'm using what I'm learning from the horses in my book. Horses can't tell you how they feel, they show it. :)

No idea who the quote is by. If you know, tell me so I can give them proper credit. :)

Defeat! You hurt!

Again, not much to say.
I'm feeling a little defeated though. It came through FaceBook (honestly, by now you'd think I'd stop looking, but nooo--) Defeated and very ignored.
Like all my hard work is for nothing.
Sorry, I had a lot of fun reading through something I wrote from the Secret Keeper's POV. His narrative runs a bit like that.
It's supposed to sound choppy.
He doesn't think or register things the way we do.
Yeah. I'm not exactly a chipper camper right now.
This may sound a bit self-centered, but I'm looking at people in their success and feeling like I've failed. Like once they're done with the spotlight, I won't have any room. It's not a happy feeling. I've always felt like I'm ignored. I try to get my voice heard, but people never seem to hear it. I've even been tempted to put a name tag on my shirt that reads Hello! My Name Is: INVISIBLE.
I might get the point across.
Maybe.
My mom stopped my attempts. She says I shouldn't think about myself like that, but it's hard when I speak and no one hears a thing. I could scream, and they wouldn't notice me until I burst into flames right in front of them and all they'd do is "Wow. That's bright!"
Yes. I am looking forward to the start of school.
I've also mastered the art of sarcasm quite well.
*Sarcasm
But hey, on the flip side, my hair looks really good today. Shhh! Don't tell it. It will probably explode. :)

Enjoyce

Guess what? I'm part ninja. I was so ninja on Monday while I was pretending to be the Secret Keeper (yes, I pretend to be my characters :D) and I withdrew my imaginary sword to point it at my foe and smacked my hand on my bookshelf knocking over all my binders and chopping up my middle finger in the process.
I am pro ninja.
So ninja that I have a battle wound that kept me up most of the night and I think is infected.
Sometimes I'm so stupid, I even surprise myself, but can't we all be that way at time? I've learned though, your stupidity is impossible to deal with unless you laugh. I was laughing at myself and promising that the next time I pretended to be Mr. Epic Wraith, I'd do it in a wide open space where there are no bookshelves that I can hit.
I'm also very proud of myself. Remember me whining about how my book was WAY over the YA mark...well, that may change. It is about twenty pages shorter. Who KNEW I didn't need all that stuff? I didn't. I thought it was life or death to keep it in. :)
I'm also finding it ridiculously funny how my siblings and I mocked Lord of the Rings for so long and then I pick up the books, start reading, and now I can't stop. We watched the Hobbit the Unexpected Journey (or adventure, can't remember which) and this will probably surprise you. I cheered when the Witch-King showed up. My older sister was like "Ah! Radagast!" I was "Wooo, Witch-King!"
Wish he'd been in there longer. He tops as my favorite. Except in the Lego game, he's always tapping his sword and hissing and I find that incredibly annoying, and yes, for the record, wraiths do hiss.
Next favorite would be Aragorn, and then Thorin. The pale orc dude tops at the very bottom. I'd rather hang out with all nine of the Nazgul for the afternoon than watch him for another thirty minutes. ;)
If you haven't seen the Hobbit, I'd suggest you go rent it. It's so FUNNY! It has a lighter tone that LOTR, I was laughing my head off at a lot of the jokes, especially Radagast's choice of mounts. The scene with Gollum is hilarious. I just found it odd that when Bilbo finds the ring he doesn't say "What's this? A ring?" like in the Fellowship of the Ring, but that aside...
I found one of my writing tics, I write just too much. It's just annoying how just just keeps creeping up in my sentences. I just can't take it anymore. I'm just going to stop using just.
I love the control find option. ;D It's just amazing.

Infestation!

My room has been infested with spiders. Gross, nasty, eight-legged, eight-eyed...ugh. I smashed four on Friday (two might have gotten away, but I haven't seen them since, so I'm assuming they're smashed) one I'm pretty sure was a hobo spider (saw that on FaceBook thought it said HOBBIT spider ;D) and it was on the wall by my bed!
I'm a little grossed out, more willing to keep my room clean and not pry into the dark corners until I know that the spiders are dead.
Yeah, that's about my weekend went. I also sneezed more times since Friday than I have this whole year. We're painting so there's loads of dust around and I cannot say that I enjoy sneezing five times everyday. It gets really annoying after a while.
Still enjoying editing. I've managed to foreshadow so much just by tossing in a few words. I feel so epicly cool. :)
Again, I don't have much to say. I'm kind of worried because school is going to start again and I'm not looking forward to it. I also looking for a job. I've freaked myself out about it, so I'm spending the week trying to decide what to do. I need a job, but I've heard a lot of horror stories from my older sister, mom, and dad and I don't want to deal with that. If you notice, I just wrote AND three times. I've gotten really critical about writing now that I've seen what a line edit looks like.
Yesterday I was skimming through a book and saw a lot of ellipses (nothing to do with the moon, they look like this...in case you were unaware. Yes, they are the dots...) and thought she didn't use those properly. When your characters get cut off in thought and word you use an EM dash--which is those two lines, when you press space behind the word, they should join together.
I wasn't using them correctly.
I've had a quite a bit of fun with em-dashes the last week.
I also spent the last three hours and some minutes on the same chapter. Editing is fun, but I've had more bloodshot eyes in the past few days than I have in a while!
My mouse is dying (computer mouse, not a live animal!) It takes several clicks to wake it up and remind it that I want to use it. My dad offered to let me have another one, but I saw that it was older than the one I do have and I was like um...(yes, proper use, ellipses show a trailing off of thought) It had the ball underneath to roll on, even my dying mouse is more advanced than that!
I think I'll just buy a new one...

Coming Back

I'm such a nerd. I will say it willingly and with pride. I finished reading through my editor's notes and adding my own in less than a week, and now I'm pulling the final edit (fingers crossed that it is!) on my computer.
I feel less stupid for all the mistakes I made ;) and more ready to get on my computer and kill them. I managed to cut down on rambling parts, my first chapter went from 9 pages to 7. I actually think it's easier to understand without all the rambling I don't need to do what I refer to as a "information throw up."
We've all picked up a book where somewhere in it there was a blast of information and you come out of it winded and red faced. I picked up a book where that was the first page! Needless to say, I couldn't even make it past the first page, I put it down after the first paragraph.
I'm actually really excited to go back to using a computer. I've missed spending hours of staring at the screen willing something to appear...okay, maybe I haven't missed  that part of it, but I have missed typing. I finished  Entangled the second book of Twisted and I really had nothing to write. I'm glad to have something, and I've discovered that I really like editing, I'm working with material that already exists and I don't have to make it up. It's a nice break for my poor writer's brain. :D
Want to know something else that I'm glad for? That it's not last year. Last year, probably at this very moment, I would be in driver's ed. I shudder at the thought, but grateful that it's over!

Here's a scene we all remember and hate. Driver's Ed, Studio C, and yes I do watch Studio C on BYU TV, my whole family does. :)