So, it's here, the much waited for and anticipated day.
The school year is over. I'm no longer a Junior. 11th grade is done with...FOREVER!!!
I'm hoping that 12th grade will be easier, 11th grade nearly killed me, but my older sister says that 12th grade sucked for her, so now I'm slightly worried, but you know, there's a whole summer between then and now.
Anyway, I have a pleasant story to tell (yes, another one) I put it off for almost the whole week to publish my post about Steve, (oddly enough I keep dreaming about him, like I was the Little Mermaid and he was my prince and then he drowned...yeah, I agree, odd!) but now here it is.
My story about stupid people, we all have one. And just to warn you, I'm going to talk about death, so if that's too heavy or tender for you, you don't have to keep reading, nobody's blaming you, it's a tough subject. =D
So on Tuesday I went with my young women's group (kind of like a girl's scout troop, just less fun) I hardly ever go because I have the same problem here that I do in school, I get ignored no matter how loud I am. But there I was on Tuesday with my mom and younger sister.
We came to this bread factory thinking it was a tour but ended up sitting in this conference like room with a table up front and a large mirror glaring down at it. The table had some cute little bread animals on it and we realized it was a demonstration on how to make those adorable little animals and other things out of bread.
How fun.
Just to clear up, I'm not a cook. I like it enough, but after a while, I get bored and I don't really like touching raw meat, I'm not a total cheerleader when it comes to being grossed out, I mean I just spent three hours yesterday getting dirty with horses, but raw meat takes the cake. Gross.
And just as a personal preference, I like making sweets, even though the dough always tastes better than the end result. I made cookies once that looked like cookies but tasted like French-fries, my siblings joked about needing fry sauce (Utah weirdness, for those who don't know (and I can't say that I blame you) fry sauce is an odd mix of ketchup and mayonnaise with an added bonus of pickle juice in between. I'm not that fond of it, especially not when I have to wash it out of the bowl!)
Sorry, rambling there =)
So we waited for this preppy cheerleader lady in her fifties to come talk to us about bread. At first I liked her, she was funny and I expected it to be boring.
Then she got too funny.
She started asking questions to hand out adorable (and by italics I mean sarcasm) little bags of bread.
"Who's the Laurel president?" she asked, then, "Who's the Beehive president." (Two ranks I guess in young women's? It's a church thing I'm not really fond of, don't judge us by our young women groups! It's like high school with all the drama, girl's camp is that hyped up to about a MILLION!)
Those questions weren't really fair, I mean, who could win unless you were the lucky one to be called as el president. I was okay at this point, but I could see my mom shrinking in her seat with every word the preppy cheerleader lady said.
Then things got REALLY ugly.
The lady asked who had been married the longest. No big deal, until you know the rest of the story. Mom has a friend who lost her husband in a car crash four years ago, THIS WEEK! That poor lady was there and EVERYONE turned to look at HER.
Pressure much? Completely especially when Little Mrs. Cheerleader marched over there and said, "How long have you been married?"
Mom's friend was totally cool about this, "Only a year."
"What?" Cheerleader said. "How could it only be a year? Now I'm confused! Are you married or not?"
Mom's friend's daughter piped up, "I'm her daughter, I can testify that she's married!"
"Then how could it only be a year?" the cheerleader demanded.
"She remarried," the daughter said.
"Oh," the cheerleader said.
And to make matters worse, she kept pouring salt into the wound by making jokes like, "I'm still married to the same husband, yadda yadda, wonder why sometimes."
Mom was getting more than a little irritated with this lady, especially when she wouldn't stop! She even jokingly told Mom's friend that she "couldn't participate" because she already had a stupid little prize.
I was getting a little annoyed now. I know what that kind of pressure feels like, I've lost two sisters, both babies. It really hurts when someone starts digging around in your heart in places where those loved ones should've been. I don't like looking at other babies, jealous for the life my sister's didn't get, but it has to hurt like a spear in the heart to have someone joke about your beloved husband as if he split not died.
We got our free samples of food (after all that suffering we weren't going to leave without it!) and then with Mom's friend racing out behind us, we ran for the parking lot, desperate not to have preppy cheerleader lady follow us.
Mom was angry, compassion, understanding, she said that no one has it anymore. Sometimes I have to agree, I've been in that same situation, in that class (for 10th grade) we had a sub that started talking about how wonderful it is to be a mother, holding that precious child in your arms...blah, blah, blah, it was the day before two years after my sister died as an infant. I ran for it, my older sister was close behind me.
In this day and age it seems like people want us to erase the pain, pretend it never happened. I can't pretend that I don't have a little sister as much as Mom's friend can't pretend that she wasn't married. People don't tell you how much it hurts to see life and then watch it fade. It does hurt! I never got to know my sister, and at first I never wanted her, and then she died and all I want now is to hold her little body and feel warmth, see her eyes and have her look back at me.
How can I pretend that she never existed?
This ends up in my books, naturally. I started writing Twisted on March eighth 2011, on March 9th 2010, we learned that my sister had died. The pain is there with my heroine's, Allie Taylor's grandma, Laura Sylvia Hawkins Taylor. Long name, but there's a reason she keeps it like that.
Laura's twin brother died at 22 years old and everyone around her told her to just get over it, that Payton was in a better place. Basically what everyone told my family about my sisters. Just get over it is NOT something we want to hear. Just getting over it is like not acknowledging my sister's life, like we don't care.
I know this post really has nothing to do with my books, or my violin, it's just something that I saw that shocked me.
I'm calling for compassion. If you know someone who has lost a loved one, why do you ignore them? Pretend their loss isn't real? That hurts when people ignore you, especially for WHY they ignore you. Most of you don't know what to say, but I do, I know what I wish people would say, just talk about the loved one. You think it might make us cry and how could it not? But we want other people to acknowledge that someone we love is in heaven and part of our hearts have died with them. Ask questions, listen, ignoring is the worst thing you can do.
And sometimes you don't even have to say anything at all. Just let us know that we are loved, that you're worried for us, that you care.
That you're there.
Actions speak louder than words.
Ignoring speaks nothing but knives.
And I know there's compassion out there, Rachel K Johnson's comment on my other blog post about her concern for me nearly makes me cry, for a good reason (don't worry Rachel! =D) and there have been people who have made an effort to reach out. Compassion exists, it's just getting squished.
And for the record, I don't hate cheerleaders, seriously, I just hate the movie stereotype of cheerleaders. Sheesh. I know you have brains! Just because you cheer doesn't make you a bubblehead! And I'm kind of jealous of how flexible you guys are, if I did the splits, I'd know about it for weeks as I tried to walk.
So anyway, be compassionate. People tell you not to be, to ignore blaring grief, but they only say that because they don't know and they don't know because they don't ask.
What people don't tell you is the difference between the brightness of day and the darkness and unknowns of night.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
What the Boy Didn't Know
Yesterday was the last day (until 12th grade starts) of that class that was literally a living torment for me. I was so happy I practically danced as I drove home (don't worry, I was contained until I parked the van!) Starting from the first day, it was like a fresh torture every single time I walked inside that building.
It was so horrible because I didn't have any friends and the attempts I had to make friends ended quite bitterly, the one girl didn't want anything to do with me and the other that would talk to me and made me feel included turned the cold shoulder on me at the end of the quarter when the classes changed and her best friend ever came into the class turning me into 'that other girl.'
I've always been her. =(
Things got so bad, I was tossed and turned on every corner, shamed and taunted as I struggled to keep up. I felt like one among the undead trying to run a race with the living, I was just as shunned, and left lying in the imaginary road dead or at least wishing I was.
After a particularly bad day, I came home sobbing, my thoughts turned suicidal. It scares me now to realize how close I was to doing something really bad, inches from cutting, just ending all the pain. I know that sounds extreme, but you've got to understand that this has been going on my entire life! I'm not exactly a social butterfly, more like a completely reclusive rock. I've always been outside the 'cool' circle and I could never figure out why, I guess because I'm not like them. I'm not into doing my hair, painting my nails or guys. I'm not into fashion, seriously, I wear what I feel cozy in and cannot stand tight jeans, I'd cut myself out after wearing skinny jeans for half an hour, anyway, from grade school, right up into middle school, I feel like I've been the wart on the fine foot of society. The gross thing, the thing that no one wants.
Somehow I survived that very dark night, but the idea of going back made me want to curl up and sob once more, the class was too big and I literally hated everyone in it, it was packed to the gills and every person I had tried to befriend was giving me the cold shoulder. I felt like a leper, I wished I was, so I wouldn't have to go back. I relished everyday that I didn't have to go, Christmas holiday was heavenly.
Finally I reached my snapping point. I was either going to drop out or switch to a different day. Since I really couldn't drop out, I swapped days. I was dreading going back as much as a "death row" prisoner dreads ending up on the gallows.
But this time it was different. I told my teacher I was now in that class, sat down in my seat in the back thinking that I wasn't worthy of sitting in the front with all the sainted students. The moment I had my stuff out a boy came back and sat down in the seat next to mine and introduce himself to me. I was completely taken off guard, I almost did the movie, "Me?" as I pointed at myself.
Steve (as I'm calling him for the sake of his privacy, not his actual name) talked with me for a minute and then as the class started went back up to his seat in the sainted front. I noticed throughout the class that he was looking back at me constantly.
My face was probably as red as a overripe tomato. No boy that I know of has ever had a crush on me. Ever. I don't consider myself a drop dead babe (thank goodness!) I'm pretty in a pixie kind of way, or so my grandmother tells me. I personally went through a phase where I thought that I was so ugly it was a wonder why mirrors didn't crack as I walked by them. I hated the sight of myself in anything, and I was possessed with looking at my own faults, so it was a moment out of the blue when Steve actually spoke to me.
Later I figured he was just being nice. I turned bitter. I didn't want someone to be nice to me (as appreciated as it was) I'm tired of the one time talk and then getting ignored for the rest of eternity. I spent spring break gnashing my teeth and snarling like a wounded animal. It was a wonder, I snarled to myself in my Grinchy way, that Steve had even bothered to look at me. He wouldn't do it again, not when there were prettier girls to talk to.
I was wrong.
Steve not only spoke to me again, but he showed me how to make the wire and stone rings that I asked him to show me how to make on the first day in the new class. I was so startled when he actually showed me how, I nearly fell out of my chair in shock.
And I spent the next few weeks doing that.
Again, I sat in the back feeling unworthy, and useless, but low and behold, here came Steve who planted himself in the seat next to mine and started a conversation with me as I stammered and gaped in amazement. We started talking about dragons (a favorite topic of mine) got shushed by a lot of people, but it was still amazing. Steve chose sitting by his friends in the sainted front rows to come back and sit with me, the riled little devil that I was. I still had claws and they came out nicely when a girl completely rejected my compliments with the "someone taught it to talk?" expression that I get way more than I enjoy.
I walked out on that day grinning like an idiot. Thus was the habit for the next few weeks. Steve was amazing, funny, even though he talked a bit more than he should've. I was worried for the first half every time I walked in that he would've changed his mind and gone back to shunning me like everyone else was.
He never did, and believe it or not, the seating arrangements changed and I ended up in the sainted front row with Steve grinning wickedly in the seat next to mine. He even shared gum with me. Big deal, I know. But it goes back to my primary years where I watched as a pack of gum was passed between every girl in my class except me. I chewed on my tongue and tried not to try as it happened week after week after week. Steve sharing his gum with me brought me back to those young days, and believe it or not, warm gum from a pocket really wasn't such a big deal anymore.
I remember driving home with my mom complaining that I kept grinning like an idiot after the class was finished and she said, "I like it."
I looked at her like she was nuts, "You like it when I grin like an idiot?"
My mom was completely serious, "Better than you coming out grouchy with the world."
Oddly enough, after that, I liked it too.
Steve had a crush on me, my teacher could see it even though I couldn't. It was surprising, I've never crushed anyone (cough, cough, Prince Caspian!) And in doing so, Steve was an answer to my prayer as I begged and begged and BEGGED God with everything I had to let SOMEONE bother to care about me. Steve doesn't know it, but he probably saved me from doing something tragic.
What happened to Steve? Are we like boyfriend girlfriend now? Sorry to disappoint the anxious reader, but we're not. I liked Steve, but he was a little too young, a freshman and I'm a Junior. I believe in not dating until you're sixteen and old enough to handle yourself, I'm not going to allow someone else to compromise that by going out with them before they're sixteen and that would be kind of weird. :)
Actually I was okay with walking away, Steve started flirting with another girl and I thought okay, enough! I wasn't mad, I didn't want to care. I never even learned his last name. It's like he was a phantom, coming into my life when I needed it, and exiting when I was able to stand on my feet again.
Am I looking forward to going back for my senior year?
No, I can honestly say I'm not. I don't know if Steve will be there again, or if he'll even recognize me, I hacked about five inches off my hair because it was driving me crazy. But it still remains, because Steve noticed me, spoke with me and acknowledged me, it kept me alive emotionally. I was turning into a bitter monster, a wraith of my own making, acting like a pit of spikes so people would know if they tried to poke me, they'd walk away more hurt than I did.
My heart was turning black.
My heart was turning cold.
The cruel actions from others led me to snap, I got sad and then I got angry. I wanted to retaliate. I wanted to treat them as viciously as they treated me and let's face it, when I want to be, I can be very cruel myself. I knew that I probably could make them scurry into their dark corners and make them sob with the same amounts of agony they'd poisoned me with.
I was becoming one among the walking dead. My body was alive, but the inside, the part that really matters was dying of a kind of cancer that no doctor could cure. I needed God's care and love.
Steve saved me from falling into my own darkness. Saved me from turning bitter and cold and black. His actions healed my cankered soul and I forgot about being angry, being hurt, being sad, I forgot to think that I was ugly or fat, I forgot. I forgot! I feel alive again because a single person introduced himself to me and complimented me at exactly the time I needed it.
You doubt that a single person can make a difference.
Rethink that please.
You can save a life.
Steve saved me, and I doubt until we're face to face in Heaven that he'll ever know.
It was so horrible because I didn't have any friends and the attempts I had to make friends ended quite bitterly, the one girl didn't want anything to do with me and the other that would talk to me and made me feel included turned the cold shoulder on me at the end of the quarter when the classes changed and her best friend ever came into the class turning me into 'that other girl.'
I've always been her. =(
Things got so bad, I was tossed and turned on every corner, shamed and taunted as I struggled to keep up. I felt like one among the undead trying to run a race with the living, I was just as shunned, and left lying in the imaginary road dead or at least wishing I was.
After a particularly bad day, I came home sobbing, my thoughts turned suicidal. It scares me now to realize how close I was to doing something really bad, inches from cutting, just ending all the pain. I know that sounds extreme, but you've got to understand that this has been going on my entire life! I'm not exactly a social butterfly, more like a completely reclusive rock. I've always been outside the 'cool' circle and I could never figure out why, I guess because I'm not like them. I'm not into doing my hair, painting my nails or guys. I'm not into fashion, seriously, I wear what I feel cozy in and cannot stand tight jeans, I'd cut myself out after wearing skinny jeans for half an hour, anyway, from grade school, right up into middle school, I feel like I've been the wart on the fine foot of society. The gross thing, the thing that no one wants.
Somehow I survived that very dark night, but the idea of going back made me want to curl up and sob once more, the class was too big and I literally hated everyone in it, it was packed to the gills and every person I had tried to befriend was giving me the cold shoulder. I felt like a leper, I wished I was, so I wouldn't have to go back. I relished everyday that I didn't have to go, Christmas holiday was heavenly.
Finally I reached my snapping point. I was either going to drop out or switch to a different day. Since I really couldn't drop out, I swapped days. I was dreading going back as much as a "death row" prisoner dreads ending up on the gallows.
But this time it was different. I told my teacher I was now in that class, sat down in my seat in the back thinking that I wasn't worthy of sitting in the front with all the sainted students. The moment I had my stuff out a boy came back and sat down in the seat next to mine and introduce himself to me. I was completely taken off guard, I almost did the movie, "Me?" as I pointed at myself.
Steve (as I'm calling him for the sake of his privacy, not his actual name) talked with me for a minute and then as the class started went back up to his seat in the sainted front. I noticed throughout the class that he was looking back at me constantly.
My face was probably as red as a overripe tomato. No boy that I know of has ever had a crush on me. Ever. I don't consider myself a drop dead babe (thank goodness!) I'm pretty in a pixie kind of way, or so my grandmother tells me. I personally went through a phase where I thought that I was so ugly it was a wonder why mirrors didn't crack as I walked by them. I hated the sight of myself in anything, and I was possessed with looking at my own faults, so it was a moment out of the blue when Steve actually spoke to me.
Later I figured he was just being nice. I turned bitter. I didn't want someone to be nice to me (as appreciated as it was) I'm tired of the one time talk and then getting ignored for the rest of eternity. I spent spring break gnashing my teeth and snarling like a wounded animal. It was a wonder, I snarled to myself in my Grinchy way, that Steve had even bothered to look at me. He wouldn't do it again, not when there were prettier girls to talk to.
I was wrong.
Steve not only spoke to me again, but he showed me how to make the wire and stone rings that I asked him to show me how to make on the first day in the new class. I was so startled when he actually showed me how, I nearly fell out of my chair in shock.
And I spent the next few weeks doing that.
Again, I sat in the back feeling unworthy, and useless, but low and behold, here came Steve who planted himself in the seat next to mine and started a conversation with me as I stammered and gaped in amazement. We started talking about dragons (a favorite topic of mine) got shushed by a lot of people, but it was still amazing. Steve chose sitting by his friends in the sainted front rows to come back and sit with me, the riled little devil that I was. I still had claws and they came out nicely when a girl completely rejected my compliments with the "someone taught it to talk?" expression that I get way more than I enjoy.
I walked out on that day grinning like an idiot. Thus was the habit for the next few weeks. Steve was amazing, funny, even though he talked a bit more than he should've. I was worried for the first half every time I walked in that he would've changed his mind and gone back to shunning me like everyone else was.
He never did, and believe it or not, the seating arrangements changed and I ended up in the sainted front row with Steve grinning wickedly in the seat next to mine. He even shared gum with me. Big deal, I know. But it goes back to my primary years where I watched as a pack of gum was passed between every girl in my class except me. I chewed on my tongue and tried not to try as it happened week after week after week. Steve sharing his gum with me brought me back to those young days, and believe it or not, warm gum from a pocket really wasn't such a big deal anymore.
I remember driving home with my mom complaining that I kept grinning like an idiot after the class was finished and she said, "I like it."
I looked at her like she was nuts, "You like it when I grin like an idiot?"
My mom was completely serious, "Better than you coming out grouchy with the world."
Oddly enough, after that, I liked it too.
Steve had a crush on me, my teacher could see it even though I couldn't. It was surprising, I've never crushed anyone (cough, cough, Prince Caspian!) And in doing so, Steve was an answer to my prayer as I begged and begged and BEGGED God with everything I had to let SOMEONE bother to care about me. Steve doesn't know it, but he probably saved me from doing something tragic.
What happened to Steve? Are we like boyfriend girlfriend now? Sorry to disappoint the anxious reader, but we're not. I liked Steve, but he was a little too young, a freshman and I'm a Junior. I believe in not dating until you're sixteen and old enough to handle yourself, I'm not going to allow someone else to compromise that by going out with them before they're sixteen and that would be kind of weird. :)
Actually I was okay with walking away, Steve started flirting with another girl and I thought okay, enough! I wasn't mad, I didn't want to care. I never even learned his last name. It's like he was a phantom, coming into my life when I needed it, and exiting when I was able to stand on my feet again.
Am I looking forward to going back for my senior year?
No, I can honestly say I'm not. I don't know if Steve will be there again, or if he'll even recognize me, I hacked about five inches off my hair because it was driving me crazy. But it still remains, because Steve noticed me, spoke with me and acknowledged me, it kept me alive emotionally. I was turning into a bitter monster, a wraith of my own making, acting like a pit of spikes so people would know if they tried to poke me, they'd walk away more hurt than I did.
My heart was turning black.
My heart was turning cold.
The cruel actions from others led me to snap, I got sad and then I got angry. I wanted to retaliate. I wanted to treat them as viciously as they treated me and let's face it, when I want to be, I can be very cruel myself. I knew that I probably could make them scurry into their dark corners and make them sob with the same amounts of agony they'd poisoned me with.
I was becoming one among the walking dead. My body was alive, but the inside, the part that really matters was dying of a kind of cancer that no doctor could cure. I needed God's care and love.
Steve saved me from falling into my own darkness. Saved me from turning bitter and cold and black. His actions healed my cankered soul and I forgot about being angry, being hurt, being sad, I forgot to think that I was ugly or fat, I forgot. I forgot! I feel alive again because a single person introduced himself to me and complimented me at exactly the time I needed it.
You doubt that a single person can make a difference.
Rethink that please.
You can save a life.
Steve saved me, and I doubt until we're face to face in Heaven that he'll ever know.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Survived
It's the last week of school. I survived. Eight weeks ago I wasn't so sure I'd make it this far, now I can't believe it's gone by so fast!
Not that I'm whining about school being over or anything. I'm just amazed that I actually made it to the end. One more year to go and I will officially be out of 'the grades' and grown up. It's actually kind of scary to think about.
Oh, good news, my cold is a thing of the past, though the mysterious health problems remain and the cough hasn't skedaddled yet (I love that word, skedaddled, sounds so weird!)
Also I had a breakthrough with writing this morning. On Friday I rewrote the same chapter 3 times to no avail until I finally backtracked and thought about what I'm doing, I'm thinking about it now and going, this is going to make people HATE the Secret Keeper, but we all fall for temptation, and the Secret Keeper realizes what's really going on and flees. It's the first major character development for him in the series, it's perfectly natural for a wraith to do the easy thing, they're lazy! But it's harder for them to look back and think, whoa, that's bad, REALLY bad! Usually they're the ones causing the bad!
On Friday I watched the Fellowship of the Ring and as you can guess I was fascinated by the Nazgul. Just the way they move, and oh man! The shot they had of the standing in the Prancing Pony in front of the bed was terrifying I said to my sister, "If I saw that, I'd wet the bed! And it'd be the last thing I ever did!"
"Lame last thing to do," my sister said.
I was also completely freaked out by the way that the Nazgul surrounded the hobbits on Weathertop, how the first one just appears in the crumbling archway. Man, I realized that though I joke about them all the time, wraiths aren't that funny and I wouldn't have the courage Sam did to fight one. I'd take one good look at the Nazgul and jump off the other side of the hill screaming my brains out.
My sister and I didn't watch the whole movie, we got to the part where the Nazgul were washed away in the river (saddest part of the movie!) and it was eleven so we decided to go to sleep, but I had to pace. It's what I do to get my brain going with creative juices. I was pacing in the dark with my music and the only light was coming from nightlights in the hall (darker than the inside of a dragon's stomach otherwise, nothing quite like stumbling for the bathroom in the dark after a creepy dream!) and from a stationary exercise bike.
The bike turns itself off unless you're peddling and since I was pacing, I had no concern with peddling and I kept going until it turned off and I suddenly found myself in the dark. I was like no big deal, I'll just pace in the dark, and then I remembered how the Nazgul had just appeared on Weathertop and I thought, light is good, and turned the bike back on!
I didn't get attacked by Nazgul as I paced, (I'm sure you would've heard me screaming if I had) but it's brought me to this nice realization, my imagination is way, way, way! too active! It helps me imagine every step my characters take, but in the middle of the night when I'm listening to things go bump, it's a wonder my imagination allows me to survive at all!
Awesome prank people pulled as a Nazgul haunts a movie theater for the opening of the Lord of the Rings in movie.
Don't get between a wraith and his popcorn =)
Not that I'm whining about school being over or anything. I'm just amazed that I actually made it to the end. One more year to go and I will officially be out of 'the grades' and grown up. It's actually kind of scary to think about.
Oh, good news, my cold is a thing of the past, though the mysterious health problems remain and the cough hasn't skedaddled yet (I love that word, skedaddled, sounds so weird!)
Also I had a breakthrough with writing this morning. On Friday I rewrote the same chapter 3 times to no avail until I finally backtracked and thought about what I'm doing, I'm thinking about it now and going, this is going to make people HATE the Secret Keeper, but we all fall for temptation, and the Secret Keeper realizes what's really going on and flees. It's the first major character development for him in the series, it's perfectly natural for a wraith to do the easy thing, they're lazy! But it's harder for them to look back and think, whoa, that's bad, REALLY bad! Usually they're the ones causing the bad!
On Friday I watched the Fellowship of the Ring and as you can guess I was fascinated by the Nazgul. Just the way they move, and oh man! The shot they had of the standing in the Prancing Pony in front of the bed was terrifying I said to my sister, "If I saw that, I'd wet the bed! And it'd be the last thing I ever did!"
"Lame last thing to do," my sister said.
I was also completely freaked out by the way that the Nazgul surrounded the hobbits on Weathertop, how the first one just appears in the crumbling archway. Man, I realized that though I joke about them all the time, wraiths aren't that funny and I wouldn't have the courage Sam did to fight one. I'd take one good look at the Nazgul and jump off the other side of the hill screaming my brains out.
My sister and I didn't watch the whole movie, we got to the part where the Nazgul were washed away in the river (saddest part of the movie!) and it was eleven so we decided to go to sleep, but I had to pace. It's what I do to get my brain going with creative juices. I was pacing in the dark with my music and the only light was coming from nightlights in the hall (darker than the inside of a dragon's stomach otherwise, nothing quite like stumbling for the bathroom in the dark after a creepy dream!) and from a stationary exercise bike.
The bike turns itself off unless you're peddling and since I was pacing, I had no concern with peddling and I kept going until it turned off and I suddenly found myself in the dark. I was like no big deal, I'll just pace in the dark, and then I remembered how the Nazgul had just appeared on Weathertop and I thought, light is good, and turned the bike back on!
I didn't get attacked by Nazgul as I paced, (I'm sure you would've heard me screaming if I had) but it's brought me to this nice realization, my imagination is way, way, way! too active! It helps me imagine every step my characters take, but in the middle of the night when I'm listening to things go bump, it's a wonder my imagination allows me to survive at all!
Don't get between a wraith and his popcorn =)
Friday, May 24, 2013
Tired
You know how a bad chapter can just wreck your day? Yeah, I'm having that today. I started writing today and pretty quickly I came across this general problem of suckage. My chapter sucked. It had no purpose. Oh sigh. It was from the Secret Keeper's POV and as I've said before, it's REALLY hard to write from his POV, especially if I don't set it up correctly. It's like, I set it up wrong and the Secret Keeper is like, "I'm only going along with this because I know you'll feel stupid in the end." Yeah, I figured it out, I've got to come in with a different POV and then go to the Secret Keeper.
I'm also really tired. Tired of school, tired of coughing all the time, and just tired in general. It's been a LOOONG morning for me :)
But I have to admit something this week, in about three days, I became a Lord of the Rings fan. I read 200 pages in that time. I don't know how good that is, but considering last time I tried to read it, I only got about 40% of what was being said and I probably only made it to page 40. I just passed the part where Frodo gets stabbed by the Witch King and tonight (hopefully) I'll watch the first movie.
Total nerd now. :)
But I'm not really the biggest fan of Frodo, I watched this review thing that said there's something in the Lord of the Rings for everyone to connect with. The hobbits, Aragorn, Legolas, and so forth. I'm sorry, I'm not really voting for the good guys, the Nazgul is where I connect, as it probably should have been easy to figure out. But everyone has something they're possessed with watching right? I like watching the Nazgul to try and figure out how my wraiths would act and react to things and what they would look like as they did.
Oh, totally random fact, even if you did see a wraith, there's no possible way to capture it on film or with a camera no matter how advanced your camera is. It will either freeze over in your hands, or the only thing you'll get is a large black blob where the wraith is. Their auras are so dark, their essence so evil, you can't photograph them, in fact, in real life you can't even see them that well.
Okay I'm done being a nerd =) oddly enough, though I know all this about wraiths, I'd never make it as a shade hunter, that's a person in Twisted who is trained in the art of hunting and eliminating darker beings, the darker the being, the more they get paid for destroying it. I couldn't survive doing that, especially since you can't quit, once you've established the fact that you're a shade hunter, the undead have this nasty habit of trying to get rid of you, even after you've claimed to retire, they'll take advantage of your retirement and come in to get you. I'd be the Cowardly Lion version of a shade hunter.
Sorry, I'm blabbing about wraiths again. They fascinate me.
Anyway, for those of you wondering about the health issues I've been facing, they haven't gone away. I mean the palpitations stopped for a while, but came back on the 22nd, it was so bad yesterday I could hardly breathe. My cold is mostly gone, except for the cough, and I start wheezing if I do anything too intense. Sigh. I wish some doctor could figure out what this is, it's part of the reason (I'm guessing) that I'm so tired.
I'm also really tired. Tired of school, tired of coughing all the time, and just tired in general. It's been a LOOONG morning for me :)
But I have to admit something this week, in about three days, I became a Lord of the Rings fan. I read 200 pages in that time. I don't know how good that is, but considering last time I tried to read it, I only got about 40% of what was being said and I probably only made it to page 40. I just passed the part where Frodo gets stabbed by the Witch King and tonight (hopefully) I'll watch the first movie.
Total nerd now. :)
But I'm not really the biggest fan of Frodo, I watched this review thing that said there's something in the Lord of the Rings for everyone to connect with. The hobbits, Aragorn, Legolas, and so forth. I'm sorry, I'm not really voting for the good guys, the Nazgul is where I connect, as it probably should have been easy to figure out. But everyone has something they're possessed with watching right? I like watching the Nazgul to try and figure out how my wraiths would act and react to things and what they would look like as they did.
Oh, totally random fact, even if you did see a wraith, there's no possible way to capture it on film or with a camera no matter how advanced your camera is. It will either freeze over in your hands, or the only thing you'll get is a large black blob where the wraith is. Their auras are so dark, their essence so evil, you can't photograph them, in fact, in real life you can't even see them that well.
Okay I'm done being a nerd =) oddly enough, though I know all this about wraiths, I'd never make it as a shade hunter, that's a person in Twisted who is trained in the art of hunting and eliminating darker beings, the darker the being, the more they get paid for destroying it. I couldn't survive doing that, especially since you can't quit, once you've established the fact that you're a shade hunter, the undead have this nasty habit of trying to get rid of you, even after you've claimed to retire, they'll take advantage of your retirement and come in to get you. I'd be the Cowardly Lion version of a shade hunter.
Sorry, I'm blabbing about wraiths again. They fascinate me.
Anyway, for those of you wondering about the health issues I've been facing, they haven't gone away. I mean the palpitations stopped for a while, but came back on the 22nd, it was so bad yesterday I could hardly breathe. My cold is mostly gone, except for the cough, and I start wheezing if I do anything too intense. Sigh. I wish some doctor could figure out what this is, it's part of the reason (I'm guessing) that I'm so tired.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Today While the Sun Shines
I've had this cold for a week. I know all I've done recently is whine about it, but it's a pretty bad cold. I think I'll look up the professional term of a cold in Latin so I sound so much cooler when I say I've got a common cold.
Yeah aside from the cold I'm actually pretty okay today. I practically slept through all of my alarms and had to drag myself out of bed, but that was all right because it meant I got to write and I was excited because I finally got to introduce a character I've fall heads over heels for, Prince Shegya.
I've been struggling for ways to introduce him, he ranks pretty high up there on the stubbornness scale (the Secret Keeper topping and breaking the scale) and I wanted to show that stubbornness without actually coming right out and saying, "he's stubborn" I prefer showing.
I think I've got it down this time, actually managing to show how Shegya feels about his father, the sultan of Aramabi and Amaarzar, the general of the Aramabic armies. I didn't have to go into this in depth explanation like last time, I just put down a few words and ba-bam! As Amy Duncan would say, you could see that there was tension.
I love being able to do that, but it takes a lot of drafts and fighting to be able to get there, I'm currently on the 7th draft of Entangled (book after Twisted) and this one has been fighting me ever since I first started writing it, but this time I think I'll actually be able to finish it.
Oh nerd moment here, I started reading the Lord of the Rings, I mean actually READING it and I discovered that I like it. My siblings think I'm nuts because I've got my head stuck in it, and we just spent the last who KNOWS how many years making fun of it. Oops. =D
I want to see the movies again if that punctuates how nerdy I'm feeling right now, but you know, I'm only watching it for the Nazgul, Frodo whines way too much for my liking, the Nazgul don't whine at all, just get the job done, though since they're wraiths, I suppose they're whining on the inside. No wraith likes being told what to do, especially not by another wraith, that's like having that person you REALLY, REALLY do NOT like telling you to go do something, but I don't think that the Witch King would take kindly to whiners, so the other Nazgul keep it to themselves.
Amaarzar probably wishes his Terrors would take a few pages from the Nazgul's book. If they don't want to do something, they gripe about it and then act sluggish and half dead (wait! They're undead! For them is it acting half alive?) as they're doing it.
Viral rhinitis, is a Latin term for a cold, BTW. Sounds much cooler than, "I've caught a cold."
"I have viral rhinitis."
"Oh, you poor thing."
"I know."
Oh and for the record, I've started feeling quite partial to the Nazgul second in command, Khamul. Can't say why, maybe because Amaarzar and the Witch King are best buddies in my mind and I don't want to be in the same place they are while they're scheming to kill hobbits together. Khamul seems like a cool customer and could probably stand my craziness, unlike most other wraiths who'd look at me like, "what died in your head?"
I just realized why I like Khamul, he reminds me of Mullin, one of my wraiths. Mullin is seriously calm because he's missing his tongue (his mother cut it out, but she was a wraith at the time and didn't remember that she was his mother, Shazaar was one vicious cookie for a really long time!) and has no other outlet for anger. After getting cited over three hundred times for unprovoked attacks, Mullin decided that being calm was a better answer than attacking. He's so calm, an airplane could be disintegrating beneath him and he wouldn't even blink at it, that's how I imagine Khamul.
See, I'm a nerd. I just went on forever about wraiths, I do that outside my blog too and I notice that people start to get oddly silent when I start talking about them. Wish I had someone to nerd out with. =(
Sorry you probably missed everything I said.
Shazaar is Amaarzar's lieutenant. If you remember from my last blog post about Amaarzar, I think I said that he's the general of the army that's attacking the good guys. And BTW her title is pronounced Sha-zaar, not Shazar. Sha-zaar, really drag it out through the nose. =)
Okay, I'm done being a nerd.
Yeah aside from the cold I'm actually pretty okay today. I practically slept through all of my alarms and had to drag myself out of bed, but that was all right because it meant I got to write and I was excited because I finally got to introduce a character I've fall heads over heels for, Prince Shegya.
I've been struggling for ways to introduce him, he ranks pretty high up there on the stubbornness scale (the Secret Keeper topping and breaking the scale) and I wanted to show that stubbornness without actually coming right out and saying, "he's stubborn" I prefer showing.
I think I've got it down this time, actually managing to show how Shegya feels about his father, the sultan of Aramabi and Amaarzar, the general of the Aramabic armies. I didn't have to go into this in depth explanation like last time, I just put down a few words and ba-bam! As Amy Duncan would say, you could see that there was tension.
I love being able to do that, but it takes a lot of drafts and fighting to be able to get there, I'm currently on the 7th draft of Entangled (book after Twisted) and this one has been fighting me ever since I first started writing it, but this time I think I'll actually be able to finish it.
Oh nerd moment here, I started reading the Lord of the Rings, I mean actually READING it and I discovered that I like it. My siblings think I'm nuts because I've got my head stuck in it, and we just spent the last who KNOWS how many years making fun of it. Oops. =D
I want to see the movies again if that punctuates how nerdy I'm feeling right now, but you know, I'm only watching it for the Nazgul, Frodo whines way too much for my liking, the Nazgul don't whine at all, just get the job done, though since they're wraiths, I suppose they're whining on the inside. No wraith likes being told what to do, especially not by another wraith, that's like having that person you REALLY, REALLY do NOT like telling you to go do something, but I don't think that the Witch King would take kindly to whiners, so the other Nazgul keep it to themselves.
Amaarzar probably wishes his Terrors would take a few pages from the Nazgul's book. If they don't want to do something, they gripe about it and then act sluggish and half dead (wait! They're undead! For them is it acting half alive?) as they're doing it.
Viral rhinitis, is a Latin term for a cold, BTW. Sounds much cooler than, "I've caught a cold."
"I have viral rhinitis."
"Oh, you poor thing."
"I know."
Oh and for the record, I've started feeling quite partial to the Nazgul second in command, Khamul. Can't say why, maybe because Amaarzar and the Witch King are best buddies in my mind and I don't want to be in the same place they are while they're scheming to kill hobbits together. Khamul seems like a cool customer and could probably stand my craziness, unlike most other wraiths who'd look at me like, "what died in your head?"
I just realized why I like Khamul, he reminds me of Mullin, one of my wraiths. Mullin is seriously calm because he's missing his tongue (his mother cut it out, but she was a wraith at the time and didn't remember that she was his mother, Shazaar was one vicious cookie for a really long time!) and has no other outlet for anger. After getting cited over three hundred times for unprovoked attacks, Mullin decided that being calm was a better answer than attacking. He's so calm, an airplane could be disintegrating beneath him and he wouldn't even blink at it, that's how I imagine Khamul.
See, I'm a nerd. I just went on forever about wraiths, I do that outside my blog too and I notice that people start to get oddly silent when I start talking about them. Wish I had someone to nerd out with. =(
Sorry you probably missed everything I said.
Shazaar is Amaarzar's lieutenant. If you remember from my last blog post about Amaarzar, I think I said that he's the general of the army that's attacking the good guys. And BTW her title is pronounced Sha-zaar, not Shazar. Sha-zaar, really drag it out through the nose. =)
Okay, I'm done being a nerd.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Weekend Status: Failure
Yes, the title states it all. My weekend was a complete failure, I was positively too sick to do anything. I woke up feeling just dandy, then put it into my fool little mind that I felt great enough to exercise and went outside to run around.
Mistake.
I started wheezing after the first run, but I kept going figuring that every out of shape person gets like that (note: I'm not out of shape, I've just been too sick for the past two weeks to do much and you know how muscles get after two weeks, floppy) and I kept running until I just about collapsed. Any person with any knowledge of exercise would probably state that I pushed too hard while I'm sick.
Oops.
All Saturday I felt nasty, I swallowed some jelly bean sized pills that were supposedly made to help bad colds like mine, but all they did was make me loopy. I'm sure I said some really stupid things after I took them, but hey, at least my older sister surprised me by giving me an iTunes gift card on Friday, I've been yearning after another one after I had too much fun with the first!
I've had some bad colds before, but this one takes the cake! I've had myriad of symptoms ranging from headaches, to earaches, from chest pains to feeling absolutely positive that dinner (Subway, no!) was going to come back up.
And it didn't help that I had a bad writing day as well. The Secret Keeper's POV just about killed me, and no, he wouldn't care know that his chapter reduced me nearly to tears as I imagined all my possible readers picking it up and reading it and going, "what IS she going on about?"
I also had a sobbing session last night and discovered that yes, your eyes CAN get swollen if you cry too much. I felt like I had two cantaloupes instead of eyes, and they still hurt now.
I'm not going to go on about what made me freak out last night, but trust me, in my eyes, it was pretty bad. I'm all sobbed out now, too tired to want to cry, and I STILL feel gross. I'm beginning to think that I should let my body have its way and I won't exercise until I can run without wheezing or feeling like my lungs are going to collapse.
Ultimate question here: am I a runner or not a runner?
A. I'm not a professional runner, but I do enjoy a nice hard pounding run, I'm trying to build up my stamina so I can keep running, but thanks to this cold, I can't. :(
Anyway, I'm sorry for whining, but hey, my weekend was pretty nasty, except for yesterday, my little sister's birthday and I gave her a Twisted shirt. We both look pretty snazzy in our Twisted attire. I'll post pictures when I get around to plugging my iPod into the computer, but until then, as Barney the purple dinosaur once said, "just imagine."
I do have happy news though, on the 30th, next Friday, school is officially over. Finally, I can't wait for summer vacation.
Just for the sake of it. This picture has an odd meaning to me since it was on the day before all these weird health problems started creeping up. The Wasatch Mountains looked especially gorgeous on March 17th. ;)
Mistake.
I started wheezing after the first run, but I kept going figuring that every out of shape person gets like that (note: I'm not out of shape, I've just been too sick for the past two weeks to do much and you know how muscles get after two weeks, floppy) and I kept running until I just about collapsed. Any person with any knowledge of exercise would probably state that I pushed too hard while I'm sick.
Oops.
All Saturday I felt nasty, I swallowed some jelly bean sized pills that were supposedly made to help bad colds like mine, but all they did was make me loopy. I'm sure I said some really stupid things after I took them, but hey, at least my older sister surprised me by giving me an iTunes gift card on Friday, I've been yearning after another one after I had too much fun with the first!
I've had some bad colds before, but this one takes the cake! I've had myriad of symptoms ranging from headaches, to earaches, from chest pains to feeling absolutely positive that dinner (Subway, no!) was going to come back up.
And it didn't help that I had a bad writing day as well. The Secret Keeper's POV just about killed me, and no, he wouldn't care know that his chapter reduced me nearly to tears as I imagined all my possible readers picking it up and reading it and going, "what IS she going on about?"
I also had a sobbing session last night and discovered that yes, your eyes CAN get swollen if you cry too much. I felt like I had two cantaloupes instead of eyes, and they still hurt now.
I'm not going to go on about what made me freak out last night, but trust me, in my eyes, it was pretty bad. I'm all sobbed out now, too tired to want to cry, and I STILL feel gross. I'm beginning to think that I should let my body have its way and I won't exercise until I can run without wheezing or feeling like my lungs are going to collapse.
Ultimate question here: am I a runner or not a runner?
A. I'm not a professional runner, but I do enjoy a nice hard pounding run, I'm trying to build up my stamina so I can keep running, but thanks to this cold, I can't. :(
Anyway, I'm sorry for whining, but hey, my weekend was pretty nasty, except for yesterday, my little sister's birthday and I gave her a Twisted shirt. We both look pretty snazzy in our Twisted attire. I'll post pictures when I get around to plugging my iPod into the computer, but until then, as Barney the purple dinosaur once said, "just imagine."
I do have happy news though, on the 30th, next Friday, school is officially over. Finally, I can't wait for summer vacation.
Friday, May 17, 2013
The World of the Wraith Explained
Friday morning...bleck. I feel like I've been run over by a Trax train. I've just noticed that I've been feeling awful for the past 2 weeks...and yeah, I didn't even have enough appetite to eat pancakes, that's sad because normally all my family eats for breakfast is cold cereal. Pancakes are a sweet release from that, until today.
Anyway, I'm done whining about my less than healthy couple of weeks (that's all I feel like I've done this week, sleep and whine, not a very productive week if you ask me!) I'm now going to explain about one of my most favoritist characters ever!
Seriously.
I talked about him during my last blog post, now you get a better in depth version (lucky you!) I've already explained about Amaarzar, now I get to explain about his arch enemy, the Secret Keeper.
First off, you guys already know the basics, the Secret Keeper is a wraith, he's evil from the tip of his boots to the top of his unseen head. In form, he kind of looks like the Nazgul from the Lord of the Rings. You know, robed and faceless, but if you pulled back the Secret Keeper's hood, you wouldn't see nothing, like the Nazgul, you'd see a rotted corpse.
Gross right? Okay maybe not so much for you zombie enthusiasts out there, but I'd probably be haunted for life if I saw the Secret Keeper without his hood. But anyway, the Secret Keeper fascinates me. He's so different from all the characters I've ever had before and I've had some pretty odd characters, like Black Beard and then a couple flesh-hungry kelpies, but they were all easy because they had the same thought pattern as I do. The Secret Keeper doesn't.
Here's pretty well the basics of being a wraith in Twisted, and you're going to be thinking in a couple of minutes wow, she spends way too much time thinking about this! I have to agree with you, I do!
Here's how I pretty well have to think when I'm writing from the Secret Keeper's POV or pretending to be him.
(Just to get us into the mood, not my picture, it's copied from Google images, if it's yours, awesome, leave your URL in the comments and I will give you full credit, promise :D!)
In Twisted a wraith is basically the shell of a once living person that lost his soul and fell into darkness. There are so many ways that this can happen (i.e. greed, lusting for power, denying one's own light...) I'm not going to go through and list all of them (I'd have to write a whole book to do that!) Wraiths are always on the defensive, guarding themselves against possible attacks from the living or their brethren among the undead. They may appear humanoid, but they are definitely not human, their minds revolve around darkness, and their bodies are nothing more than an animated corpse.
Grossed out yet? No? Here's more.
Wraiths cannot step into sunlight. I mean they physically can't do it. Sunlight may feel warm and welcoming to us, but to them, it's so cold it burns and if they stay in it for too long, they'll fade, meaning the dark magic essence that keeps them animated will dissolve and the wraith will be nothing more than a rotted body in robes.
They also can't see light, so more than 75% of the time, the wraith is wandering around nearly complete blindness, even in forests, think about how much light spatters in, to a wraith, that's complete agony! Looking at light to them is like for us when we've been sitting in a dark room and the lights suddenly flip on. Ouch. But despite being practically blind most of the time, wraiths have this uncanny ability to be able to find you, even if you're invisible. They can sense the living, and usually when you're facing a wraith, you're terrified! The wraith tracks you by the beating of your own heart and your terror.
Most people in Twisted don't escape the wraith. They're too scared. I mean seriously, you're facing something undead that looks horrifying and you know has absolutely no love for the living. It also doesn't help that wraiths cast dark auras. These auras can squish the light of fire from a distance of over a hundred feet, they're so cold, it's like standing outside during winter without a coat, and the darkness never allows your eyes to adjust. Where you can't see the wraith, the wraith can see you just fine and will delve on your fear. Basically saying, the wraith is eating your fear like it's candy and the more you're afraid of it, the more it's going to be able to dominate you.
The Secret Keeper is different from your average wraith in that aspect. He doesn't feed on fear, he could if he got bored enough, but rarely does. His power comes from stealing secrets out of the minds of men (hence his title) the darker and heavier the secret, the more powerful he becomes. This makes him practically impossible to beat in battle because he knows what move you're going to make before you make it, he'll counteract that move before you've even lifted your sword!
Wraiths seem completely impervious to defeat now, but they do have weaknesses. Sunlight for one thing, it's their natural enemy. Fire is another thing, if you can manage to light one, a wraith will burn as easily as anything else. But their most guarded weakness is their identities. When a wraith falls, he forgets every memory he had during life. His mind is a blank slate of darkness at this point. He even forgets his name, and that name is his heaviest weakness. If a person can figure out who a wraith was in life, they can say the wraith's name and the wraith will have no choice but to do as that person says. Names are a powerful thing, it's why wraiths go by titles. The Secret Keeper is a title, it's not his actual name, he doesn't know what his name is and doesn't care to figure it out. But be warned, if you know a wraith's identity, you best keep it to yourself, if you make it known to that wraith that you know...you'll be dead before the sun rises.
Yes, wraiths are nasty beings. They kill, destroy, and plunder for their own reasons and trying to figure out the mind of a wraith is about as easy as sticking a camel through the eye of a needle. But they also have vulnerable places in their black essence, the reason for their fall. As much as the wraiths hate the living, they're jealous of us because we're still alive, we're still learning and growing and they're stuck sleeping in death.
Yeah, I know, not much about the Secret Keeper, but it explains what he is. His thought process is basically bipolar, switching from one thing to another, he can't see color so his descriptions are general short and to the point, and amazingly he's very eloquent with his speech, meaning, he's actually really proper with the way he phrases things, unlike Aster the Terrible who is a thief and has as sloppy way of phrasing things.
Here's something from the Secret Keeper's POV, it's on the spot so it's nowhere in the books (yet, I may use it.)
I stand at the ready, bemoaning the fact that I even have to face this man at all. I had no intentions of fighting him, but he makes it completely clear that he has ever intention of battling me.
These fools!
They are the same fools who try to carve a reputation out of dragon hides, this man is trying to carve a reputation out of my own rotted skin. I pity his foolishness, but not enough to spare him.
See? He's pretty proper, especially when he's annoyed. This passage is like when he's feeling neutral, or not really feeling anything at all and is just going about a wraith's day to day business (or should it be night to night?) when he's angry, annoyed, or passionate his descriptions become a bit more lively and he tosses insults here and there.
like this, same passage, but let's say that he's annoyed.
I stand with my sword ready annoyed that this fool is wasting my time. I would have preferred to move on with our own existences, without confronting one another again but this brainless man has made it clear he desires to return to the stars early.
I shall not waste his last living breaths on glaring at him. He desires a reputation, he shall get one. The reputation of a halfwit who bothered the wraith that told him to skedaddle.
In other words, the ever-desired reputation of a fool.
Why do so many humans desire this reputation? The world has enough fools already.
See? You can tell that he's annoyed. His narrative gets a bit more entertaining when he's annoyed, because seriously, who hasn't thought like this? His POV is just difficult to navigate because he's one among the undead, meaning human emotions are lost on him. I've had to fight and struggle to get it to the point that I know how he's going to react in certain situations. It's also kind of difficult because of the physical limitations he has, he's almost completely blind, he can't step in sunlight, his physical form can only take so much abuse, and all wraiths despise getting wet and can't cross running water unless they positively have to. Also, he doesn't cast a shadow, it is physically impossible for him to cast one and only he can see his reflection in mirrors or glass, everyone else just sees a shadow vaguely shaped like a human.
Okay, I'm betting you're tired of reading this. I could go on for a while, but I think I should go lie down for a bit. I'm still not feeling all that great.
Just a final word, as awesome as the undead may seem, they just desire to be left alone. Never antagonize a wraith. They're great at antagonizing back and they don't stop with just poking you with a stick. First rule in combating the undead is (1) leave them alone!
This is roughly what the Secret Keeper would look like. I don't have any pictures great of him on this computer. This picture is actually of a Nazgul, Khamul I think, again NOT my picture, it's from here, http://www.kropserkel.com/blackriders.htm
So looking at that, why on Middle Earth would you want to go poke it with a stick? And yet some people in Twisted are stupid enough to try!
Here's what I view as the Secret Keeper's theme song, (yes, most of my characters have one) I was listening to this song when I first started writing Twisted (I mean literally, it was the music playing as I wrote Oh what a world...)
Okay, no worries, I'm shutting up now, seriously, even the Secret Keeper would get bored of listening to me blab about him.
Oh last note, the Secret Keeper has a Russian accent, what's so awesome about that is that he picked it himself! I was reading Twisted to my little sisters, started reading some of his narrative and bam! I was speaking with a horrible Russian accent. Though in Twisted Russian is basically Silverdalian, I based each kingdom of the Four Kingdoms (the world of Twisted) off an actual country. Silverdale is probably my favorite kingdom and I really want to go to Russia because of it.
Sorry, off tangent. I'll explain more on the Four Kingdoms later, now, I'm serious, I'm stopping. :)
Anyway, I'm done whining about my less than healthy couple of weeks (that's all I feel like I've done this week, sleep and whine, not a very productive week if you ask me!) I'm now going to explain about one of my most favoritist characters ever!
Seriously.
I talked about him during my last blog post, now you get a better in depth version (lucky you!) I've already explained about Amaarzar, now I get to explain about his arch enemy, the Secret Keeper.
First off, you guys already know the basics, the Secret Keeper is a wraith, he's evil from the tip of his boots to the top of his unseen head. In form, he kind of looks like the Nazgul from the Lord of the Rings. You know, robed and faceless, but if you pulled back the Secret Keeper's hood, you wouldn't see nothing, like the Nazgul, you'd see a rotted corpse.
Gross right? Okay maybe not so much for you zombie enthusiasts out there, but I'd probably be haunted for life if I saw the Secret Keeper without his hood. But anyway, the Secret Keeper fascinates me. He's so different from all the characters I've ever had before and I've had some pretty odd characters, like Black Beard and then a couple flesh-hungry kelpies, but they were all easy because they had the same thought pattern as I do. The Secret Keeper doesn't.
Here's pretty well the basics of being a wraith in Twisted, and you're going to be thinking in a couple of minutes wow, she spends way too much time thinking about this! I have to agree with you, I do!
Here's how I pretty well have to think when I'm writing from the Secret Keeper's POV or pretending to be him.
In Twisted a wraith is basically the shell of a once living person that lost his soul and fell into darkness. There are so many ways that this can happen (i.e. greed, lusting for power, denying one's own light...) I'm not going to go through and list all of them (I'd have to write a whole book to do that!) Wraiths are always on the defensive, guarding themselves against possible attacks from the living or their brethren among the undead. They may appear humanoid, but they are definitely not human, their minds revolve around darkness, and their bodies are nothing more than an animated corpse.
Grossed out yet? No? Here's more.
Wraiths cannot step into sunlight. I mean they physically can't do it. Sunlight may feel warm and welcoming to us, but to them, it's so cold it burns and if they stay in it for too long, they'll fade, meaning the dark magic essence that keeps them animated will dissolve and the wraith will be nothing more than a rotted body in robes.
They also can't see light, so more than 75% of the time, the wraith is wandering around nearly complete blindness, even in forests, think about how much light spatters in, to a wraith, that's complete agony! Looking at light to them is like for us when we've been sitting in a dark room and the lights suddenly flip on. Ouch. But despite being practically blind most of the time, wraiths have this uncanny ability to be able to find you, even if you're invisible. They can sense the living, and usually when you're facing a wraith, you're terrified! The wraith tracks you by the beating of your own heart and your terror.
Most people in Twisted don't escape the wraith. They're too scared. I mean seriously, you're facing something undead that looks horrifying and you know has absolutely no love for the living. It also doesn't help that wraiths cast dark auras. These auras can squish the light of fire from a distance of over a hundred feet, they're so cold, it's like standing outside during winter without a coat, and the darkness never allows your eyes to adjust. Where you can't see the wraith, the wraith can see you just fine and will delve on your fear. Basically saying, the wraith is eating your fear like it's candy and the more you're afraid of it, the more it's going to be able to dominate you.
The Secret Keeper is different from your average wraith in that aspect. He doesn't feed on fear, he could if he got bored enough, but rarely does. His power comes from stealing secrets out of the minds of men (hence his title) the darker and heavier the secret, the more powerful he becomes. This makes him practically impossible to beat in battle because he knows what move you're going to make before you make it, he'll counteract that move before you've even lifted your sword!
Wraiths seem completely impervious to defeat now, but they do have weaknesses. Sunlight for one thing, it's their natural enemy. Fire is another thing, if you can manage to light one, a wraith will burn as easily as anything else. But their most guarded weakness is their identities. When a wraith falls, he forgets every memory he had during life. His mind is a blank slate of darkness at this point. He even forgets his name, and that name is his heaviest weakness. If a person can figure out who a wraith was in life, they can say the wraith's name and the wraith will have no choice but to do as that person says. Names are a powerful thing, it's why wraiths go by titles. The Secret Keeper is a title, it's not his actual name, he doesn't know what his name is and doesn't care to figure it out. But be warned, if you know a wraith's identity, you best keep it to yourself, if you make it known to that wraith that you know...you'll be dead before the sun rises.
Yes, wraiths are nasty beings. They kill, destroy, and plunder for their own reasons and trying to figure out the mind of a wraith is about as easy as sticking a camel through the eye of a needle. But they also have vulnerable places in their black essence, the reason for their fall. As much as the wraiths hate the living, they're jealous of us because we're still alive, we're still learning and growing and they're stuck sleeping in death.
Yeah, I know, not much about the Secret Keeper, but it explains what he is. His thought process is basically bipolar, switching from one thing to another, he can't see color so his descriptions are general short and to the point, and amazingly he's very eloquent with his speech, meaning, he's actually really proper with the way he phrases things, unlike Aster the Terrible who is a thief and has as sloppy way of phrasing things.
Here's something from the Secret Keeper's POV, it's on the spot so it's nowhere in the books (yet, I may use it.)
I stand at the ready, bemoaning the fact that I even have to face this man at all. I had no intentions of fighting him, but he makes it completely clear that he has ever intention of battling me.
These fools!
They are the same fools who try to carve a reputation out of dragon hides, this man is trying to carve a reputation out of my own rotted skin. I pity his foolishness, but not enough to spare him.
See? He's pretty proper, especially when he's annoyed. This passage is like when he's feeling neutral, or not really feeling anything at all and is just going about a wraith's day to day business (or should it be night to night?) when he's angry, annoyed, or passionate his descriptions become a bit more lively and he tosses insults here and there.
like this, same passage, but let's say that he's annoyed.
I stand with my sword ready annoyed that this fool is wasting my time. I would have preferred to move on with our own existences, without confronting one another again but this brainless man has made it clear he desires to return to the stars early.
I shall not waste his last living breaths on glaring at him. He desires a reputation, he shall get one. The reputation of a halfwit who bothered the wraith that told him to skedaddle.
In other words, the ever-desired reputation of a fool.
Why do so many humans desire this reputation? The world has enough fools already.
See? You can tell that he's annoyed. His narrative gets a bit more entertaining when he's annoyed, because seriously, who hasn't thought like this? His POV is just difficult to navigate because he's one among the undead, meaning human emotions are lost on him. I've had to fight and struggle to get it to the point that I know how he's going to react in certain situations. It's also kind of difficult because of the physical limitations he has, he's almost completely blind, he can't step in sunlight, his physical form can only take so much abuse, and all wraiths despise getting wet and can't cross running water unless they positively have to. Also, he doesn't cast a shadow, it is physically impossible for him to cast one and only he can see his reflection in mirrors or glass, everyone else just sees a shadow vaguely shaped like a human.
Okay, I'm betting you're tired of reading this. I could go on for a while, but I think I should go lie down for a bit. I'm still not feeling all that great.
Just a final word, as awesome as the undead may seem, they just desire to be left alone. Never antagonize a wraith. They're great at antagonizing back and they don't stop with just poking you with a stick. First rule in combating the undead is (1) leave them alone!
So looking at that, why on Middle Earth would you want to go poke it with a stick? And yet some people in Twisted are stupid enough to try!
Okay, no worries, I'm shutting up now, seriously, even the Secret Keeper would get bored of listening to me blab about him.
Oh last note, the Secret Keeper has a Russian accent, what's so awesome about that is that he picked it himself! I was reading Twisted to my little sisters, started reading some of his narrative and bam! I was speaking with a horrible Russian accent. Though in Twisted Russian is basically Silverdalian, I based each kingdom of the Four Kingdoms (the world of Twisted) off an actual country. Silverdale is probably my favorite kingdom and I really want to go to Russia because of it.
Sorry, off tangent. I'll explain more on the Four Kingdoms later, now, I'm serious, I'm stopping. :)
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