Last post (For now!)

Hey guys (or whoever that may encompass),

I haven’t posted in months, have I? I guess the blogging thing just wasn’t right for me. Maybe this is just a phase. Maybe I’ll even start blogging again later. But my point is that, right now at least, I’m putting Sparrows and Dragons on pause.

If you’ve been following me, you’ll know that the spaces between my posts have been getting lengthier as time went by, and the one that just passed has been the longest one yet. I think that the next time I post (if I ever post again) might be in a very, very long while.

There really is no reason for my not-so-sudden stop in blogging; only the fact that I always seem to forget to post. That, in itself, is to me a sign that blogging may not be for me and that I should put this blog on hold instead of apologizing every time I take more than two weeks to post.

But I did promise an intro to an alien story (I think) and it will follow this paragraph. If you want a continuation to this story, you can leave a comment. Though I won’t be posting blog posts like I usually did, I could post the what follows this text. Here it goes!

So-far-untitled-short-story

“Hugo, can you please put your pants back on?” Delilah asked for the umpteenth time, eyes rolling to the heavens.
“I’ve told you before, it helps me think,” the old man grumbled, shuffling around the disorderly room while scratching his scalp in deep concentration in only his white boxer-briefs.
“It certainly doesn’t affect everyone that way,” grunted Delilah, looking towards the ceiling in obvious frustration while she clicked her stubby nails against a scratched stainless steel table. Hugo and her had bought it together when shopping for new furniture because their last laboratory had suffered … damage enough to blow apart their previous working surface. Delilah at first thought a wooden or glass table would have been nice, then she remembered the doctor’s love of experimenting with substances that were likely to either set things on fire in blazing blue flames or melt through them in a roiling cloud of smoke, and thought that unless she wanted to have a hole in the floor beneath said table, she should buy something more resistant. So she got a steel table made to be used in war-time bunkers, with two dozen massive screws on each leg, a surface about a dozen centimeters thick and a guarantee for it to be basically nuclear-explosion-proof. It had lasted them a record time – three months – , long enough for the scientist to decide to baptize it Darth Vader. For what reason, we shall never know. But back to the pants, or rather, their absence.
Hugo rolled his eyes, and started scrawling onto a wall. Delilah swiftly pulled a piece of paper from a notepad she kept on hand for these kinds of situations and placed it next to the scribbling. He continued on the lined paper without noticing anything, jotting down formulas and equations that made absolutely no sense but somehow, Delilah knew, were important.
This man’s name was Dr. Hugo Green. This man could have been the image all stereotypes about mad scientists were based on; he had wild white hair, squinty eyes that were always looking out into space and white lab coat painted with diverse mediums such as gasoline, melted metals, ketchup and other extremely dangerous substances that should have exploded long ago. All these factors united gave him a grubby and more or less deranged appearance; that, and also the fact that he was, indeed, lacking trousers.
“Deedee, just because you’re my sister’s daughter and a smart girl doesn’t mean you can tell this old fogey that pants have an importance in life because, as a matter of fact, I have discovered that they impede the flow of energy from the environing air into your legs, and the main arteries of your body being in your legs means-“
“Hugo, stop being an idiot. You’re a genius, but when it comes to common sense … Just leave it to me. Put on your pants,” she said, holding up the discarded item of clothing. Her uncle glared at her, then sighed and tore them from her grasp. Delilah rolled her eyes once more and looked away, arms crossed and foot tapping as her uncle tugged on his bottoms shamelessly.
“Just like your mother when we were kids, I can never resist you, you little devil,” he said, giving her wild black hair a muss before turning around to study more formulas.
Delilah patted her hair back down, giving her uncle an exasperated look and an equally irritated sigh. She gathered some papers and put them in neat, sorted piles on Darth Vader. Then, grabbing some empty Chinese take-out boxes, plates covered in spots of grease and a few stray socks that only constituted a fraction of the pandemonium that her uncle seemed to thrive in, she turned on her heel and called out a few parting words to the scientist.
“I’m going to deal with these, then go to bed. And remember not to wake me up unless the apartment is on fire, noxious gases are invading the place or you’re planning to go somewhere. Just stay here and don’t do anything without the fire extinguisher and a bucket of water nearby, okay?” she ordered, and Hugo gave a distracted grunt in response as he bustled around the room, messing with the neat piles of paper on Darth Vader.
After yet another sigh of frustration, Delilah left the chaotic room, and entered what seemed to be an entirely different universe. The walls were not only free of scientific doodles, but the floor had space to walk on, you could actually see to the other end of the room and it didn’t smell like gas and French fries. All in all, it was clean, spacious and clearly the work of the young woman who was currently disposing of the take-out boxes and paper plates, and the foul-smelling socks that she held at arm’s length into a garbage bin and a wash basket respectively. Still sighing, she trudged to a door which she opened. Closing it quickly, she switched on the light switch and ran across the room, crashing onto her black bedspread. She had wanted white, but that was way too risky after the wanting-to-wake-her-up-with-cold-water-but-instead-choosing-a-smelly-green-concoction-by-accident event with the doctor and she hated having to deal with stains on white clothes or in this case, bedspreads. Her room was very simple; a dark green carpet, bookshelves completely covered in volumes, an organized desk, a similar dresser and small closet for her meager selection of skirts and dresses were all that shared the room with the black bed. She had taken a chance with the white walls but so far Dr. Green had been quite reasonable about them. She had chosen decals like black flying birds to adorn the blank walls, making the room a bit more personal in her eyes.
Delilah picked up her pajamas and went to the neighbouring bathroom to change, locking the door behind her at that. Her uncle didn’t seem to find knocking all that useful, and even though it was only an act of absent-mindedness, she didn’t appreciate him barging into her room while she was changing. She put on pants – unlike her uncle, she believed pants were necessary to daily life – and an oversized black t-shirt that read “I’m not grumpy. I’m just happiness-challenged,” that she thought would have been an interesting gift for her uncle’s birthday, but it was at least three sizes too big and he also complained that he was “perfectly happy and required no such shirt”. Needless to say Delilah appreciated its sarcasm and made it her own after Hugo so heartlessly rejected it.
She stood in front of the mirror and scowled at her reflection, purple-blue eyes glaring at the glass, brushing her fingers through the thick bob of curly black hair that swept just above her brow bone. Her fingers got stuck a third of the way through and she decided to try and tame it later. Taking off her huge wire-rimmed glasses which were approximately six centimeters in diameter and a quarter centimeter thick, Delilah squinted at her now-out of focus reflection. She quickly washed her face and put them back on, glad for the balance they brought her. The young woman finished up in the bathroom a few minutes later after brushing her teeth and attempting to comb her hair, to no success. It was so thick and voluminous that even the best detangling brush could not do much work on it, and even if it could she would probably look like a lion who took an electric shock if she did; that is, she would probably be sporting an afro. To avoid knotting it even more in her sleep, she gathered it in messy and rather small bun then, setting her glasses on her desk, slipped in between her covers and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

That’s the end of the excerpt guys! I’ve written a bit farther than that, if you want it, you should comment. This text is copyrighted too, so to whoever has bad intentions, don’t even try.

Thank you so much to everyone who followed me, I’m thankful to each and everyone of you who clicked that button. Hopefully, one day I will come back to blogging and be a more reliable blogger but for now, you’ll have to survive without my awesomeness. 😉

Lots of love,

Emma 🙂

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My Writing Process

Hello readers, writers, and people of Venus alike.

I have been writing a lot of short stories lately, to take my mind off Flamma, which was eating up every single one of my brain cells. I started on one about aliens, and one about mermaids – I know, I’ve got a wild imagination.

But bear with me.

So, I realised a lot of people have a step by step, methodical way to write a story that they like to share with aspiring authors, but let’s get real: writing a book is probably the most hectic thing in this universe. It messes with your mind. A lot.

And so, ladies and gents, I present to you, on this 28th of March 2014 at 9:00 p.m. …

My writing process – including a few Thor 2 references. Mwahaha.

(Insert little piano tune)

10:30 on a Saturday night …

Watching movie very casually: Oh my God, Thor I swear, you cannot have your arm cut off WAAAAAAAHHHH NOOOOOOOO (wailing)!!!!!!!!

Later during movie: Hahahaha, oh Eric you’re so funny, but stop traumatizing me and put on your pants.

Sitting on my bed after the movie: What if I wrote something about a scientist and his niece who get captured by aliens, one of which happens to be a six foot two male of the dark and handsome variety … Let’s do this (fist-pump)!

Two pages and a half later: It’s late and I have to sleep but I need to WRITE.

One page and a half later: Oh God I don’t know what to write anymore, where did my inspiration escape(sob-sob-sob)!! Life is so difficult, why won’t my brain work for once!!!

Two lazy paragraphs later – which happens to be a week and half later: Oh my God I have an idea.

Two pages later: I don’t know what to wriiiiiiiiiiiiiite.

Two weeks later: Good God, I really need to edit this.

Two minutes later: I should change this. And add a word here. Oh God that’s just wrong. Wait, maybe tenacious instead of stubborn … Oh God backspace, backspace, backspace NOW!! Oh, I love this so so so much!!! Wait, that makes absolutely no sense …

Edit done, back to story-writing …

Two hours and a half later: I don’t know what to write, WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY LIFE (slamming head into keyboard)!!!!!!!!!

And that was my writing process!

Whenever I write, I usually have an idea for the beginning and the end, but not the middle! I mean, it’s fun knowing that you’re going to have baguette with mustard on the top and mayonnaise on the bottom, but I ain’t eating no mystery meat! And there is the problem, ladies and gents of all universes. I am Intro-clusion-obsessive.

And I absolutely and also quite obsessively adore adjectives and all those lovely vocabulary words that describe stuff, so my introductions are usually nine pages long, and extremely confusing. So I have to edit them, but it feels like I’m cutting off so many juicy terms and basically tearing out my story’s beating heart, and it feels absolutely terrible!

Since I’m probably the laziest person you will ever encounter in this universe – and beyond – I’m probably going to post a tid-bit of my alien story that was, in fact, inspired by Thor 2 – I mean, what is there not to be inspired about?! Anyway, it doesn’t have a name yet, so when I post it, I’ll be sure to remind you to try to find a suitable and quirky enough title for it. Since you don’t know anything about it now, I don’t expect anything, but you could think up nice alien-y puns … If you like …

Love you guys, comment, like and all that beautiful stuff, and don’t forget to follow for awesome posts that will undoubtedly blow your mind with their amazingness!

Computer hugs,

Emma 🙂

P.S. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit in a sci-fi mood. I watched Thor 2 – which doesn’t have aliens, but has outer space – and read I am Number Four by Pittacus Lore and Michelle Proulx’s Imminent Danger for the third time (I never thought I’d ever enjoy sci-fi as much as I would probably enjoy petting a unicorn, but I was proved wrong. Of course, it’s not the same kind of enjoyment – Imminent Danger is after all an action-packed alien comedy love story, but it’s really awesome and here is a link to the author’s blog. No shame in promoting a wonderful author and her equally wonderful book, especially if it is one of your favourite books. Seriously.) and I keep having the overwhelming urge to watch Star Wars or Star Trek. Any extra-terrestrial recommendations?

~~~~~~~~~

P.S.S I forgot to link Michelle Proulx’s website earlier, though you can check it out now. Sooooowwwwwyyyy!

Poem #2

Hiya.

I was planning to post this earlier, but I’ve had a rather difficult month. Someone very close to me passed away a week and a half after my last post, and since then everything has been a blur of contrasting frenetic energy and a groggy melancholy. Especially now, I’m working extra hard and trying to find distraction wherever and whenever I can, otherwise a dark philosophical mood descends on me and for some reason I feel like jumping out a window.

Tomorrow it will be one month since that day, and I don’t quite know how to feel about that. It seems like they’re just gone on a trip, ready to come home anytime and talk with me about Maupassant and Van Gogh and different types of intelligence. Sometimes I feel like nothing ever happened, but I know deep inside that something is wrong. Other times I feel desperate, like on the edge of knowing the true meaning of losing someone, of knowing that they will never come back. It’s rather depressing. Yet I still laugh and smile and talk, which I find rather bizarre considering those times I want to jump off a roof. But this person taught me a very important lesson that I will never forget:

“There are no problems, there are only …” And here they would wait until I answered “Solutions!”

And here’s the poem I promised:

Gray

The sky above

As fluid as midnight ink

Circling a goddess

Of a gleaming white.

Its unfathomable depths

Ruthless, pitiless in

Its mystery.

Taunting man till insanity

In his search for an end.

 

It’s quite short, but it will have to do.

It’s rather late and I’m exhausted, so I’ll leave you guys to roaming the Internet in search of cat videos and other necessities to the completion of your life.

Love,

Emma 🙂

 

Double poem – Apology to be accepted?

Hi.

No, I’m not dead. I’m simply really, really, really late.

Sorry.

To go with my miserable apology, I’m going to write two posts, both featuring poems. Because another reason for my lack of recent or distant posts is that every time I think of writing a post, it’s like my imagination is flat-lining. You can even hear the perpetual singing of the lack of life in my imagination. Picture me somewhat like this:imagesThen wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. Until:

Yeah. Something like that.

Goodness, I feel like I start every post with an apology.

But, enough.

Poetry time! (Title will be underlined like in grammar school)

Lake

Glinting black, blue and white.

Ripples molded by the wind,

And dissipated by its absence.

Swaying to summer’s song.

Leaves above shivering in

Contentment.

From the shadows I watch,

Captivated by you,

As you dance

Nature’s waltz.

I sigh and look to the ever-steady sky

And smile.

Love,

Emma 🙂

House of Hades – Freak-out time!!!

You guys.

I mean.

This is it.

Seriously.

My feelings.

Can’t.

BOOM. (the sound of my heart and brain and entrails exploding with feels and too much feels I can’t asdfghjkl)

This is my copy of HOH, and I FREAKING WORSHIP IT.

 

Let’s talk about House of Hades (this isn’t a review, just an overview of how I felt about the book). I also realize that I am a bit late on the HOH train, but I started a post on this a while ago but it got deleted -.- (<=== This face is so cute, I’m sorry I can’t express myself, but I had to).

Fourth book in the Heroes of Olympus series by Rick Riordan, I have been waiting for the answer to my doubts for a year and a half. A YEAR. AND. A. HALF. And you know what Rick Riordan puts as a dedication?

Seriously ... I don't know whether to love or hate you Rick

Seriously … I don’t know whether to love or hate you Rick

So I saw this on my friend’s book (she got it before me) and was something like this:

WHY DOES THIS AUTHOR DO THIS TO ME I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY HE ENJOYS SEEING US WRITHE IN PAIN LIKE DEMIGODS DUNKED IN GORGON’S BLOOD MY BRAIN IS GOING TO EXPLODE I CAN’T MY FEELINGS ARE TOO MUCH WHY DOES HE DO THIS SADISTIC AUTHOR SENDING PERCABETH TO TARTARUS AND LAUGHING ABOUT IT HOW DARE HE JOKE ABOUT MY OTP IN TARTARUS I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY BUT HE’S JUST SO MEAN AND I DON’T WANT TO SEE THIS BUT I DO AND I THINK I’M HAVING A HEART ATTACK.

So I not so secretly started reading her book. Three pages in I had to stop, and was very depressed until I got my own. So you start off with Hazel’s POV, which I think happened because not only did Rick Riordan want us to die from his last cliffhanger, he also wants us to die slowly and painfully from not getting Percabeth’s POV. At the end of that, we finally get Annabeth’s POV. I was so excited that I took a picture of the page, and I was feeling something like:

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG IM GOING TO READ THIS OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG.

This is the pic. I took before reading the first chapter in either Percy or Annabeth's POV.

This is the pic. I took before reading the first chapter in either Percy or Annabeth’s POV.

A-hrm. Yeah.

So I read. And died a million times. From brain arrest, if that even exists. *Spoilers ahead, I repeat, Spoilers ahead. Go to 🙂 for end of spoilers. Thank you*

There was so much character development in this book, all the characters have something hew happening to them. And Rick is always hinting at different outcomes for the prophecy and being frustratingly amazing and vice versa. About the characters:

Numero uno, Leo Valdez. You have to understand, Leo is my future husband. He’s smart and funny and amazing. So when he met Calypso, I was torn between happiness for Leo and depression for his newly destroyed single status. WHY MY FUTURE HUSBAND?!?! Also I was pissed at Calypso for being such a bit- mean human at the beginning of their relationship, like “HOW CAN YOU BE SO MEAN JUST BECAUSE HE ISN’T BUFF AND DOESN”T LIKES PLANTS DOESN”T MEAN YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH A BIT- MEAN HUMAN!!!!” And I almost cried when he left Ogygia (or however you write it) and swore to come get her. My heart shattered into a billion pieces of misery.

Second, Nico. My reaction to his coming out looked something like this:

“………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. Um, what?”

I never saw it coming. I have nothing against homosexuals, one of my aunts actually is and she’s a very nice person but Nico? I was reading it with my friend, we were reading the same page at the same time and she was all like, “Oh my goodness what if Nico was gay and had a crush on Percy?” I retorted something like ,” Bah, of course not,”. And I couldn’t understand any of the double meanings in the book until Nico shouted he had a crush on Percy, because I was too thick to even consider Nico as being gay. Because to me, Nico and homosexual were two things I would never have imagined connected in any way. But then I felt so horrible for Nico, because of his native time period of intolerance and his status as badass son of Hades the god of freaking DEATH. I mean, imagine if it got out that Nico was batting for the other team? Poor Nico, no wonder he was so tortured. I feel so bad for him … but I still think he’s creepy. Sorry Nico.

Next, Frank. I am so happy for Frank. He’s more confident, he’s bigger, better, stronger, more handsome … Ares/Mars did a good job on him. Also him becoming praetor was totally awesome. Jason couldn’t have been praetor for much longer anyway, with the rate that he was losing interest in Camp Jupiter. I’m really proud of Frank, he’s so much more confident than in The Son of Neptune, it’s awesome and I have gained a lot more respect for his character.

Before I start talking about this character, be aware that I have never liked him much to begin with. He’s like a wannabe Percy and I Hate that with a capital H. You’ve probably guessed who I’m going to review now. Jason’s character development has been neither positive nor negative. He hasn’t become better or braver like Frank, or unveiled this huge secret like Nico, and he already has love, unlike Leo before he found Calypso. The only thing that really struck out at me was that Jason wanted to go back to Camp Half-Blood more than Camp Jupiter. At which my reaction was, “NO YOU WILL NEVER BE PERCY, NEVER! STOP TRYING YOU CAN’T, JUST STOP ALREADY!” But I eventually accepted that Jason was sick of being a disciplined dog and wanted to be freeeeeeee (I’m sorry I just had to). Oh well … but you can never replace Percy. Never in all eternity.

Fourth on the list, Hazel. Hazel was awesome, she uncovered her magic and manipulated the Mist like a pro, she was so cool. She’s brave and kickass and pretty and smart … Hazel is a fantastic character, and that she can now manipulate the Mist like she can is majorly cool and that’s pretty much it. Not much development in the emotions department but she’s still awesome.

Next is Piper, who kicked ice BUTT! High five Pipes (I know she’s a fictional character but please let me be delusional while I still can)! She has a really brave and rebellious personality, but she had never really learned to fight before so that she knows to fight now and can kick derrière with her knife is pretty cool. She’s a lot more confident now and I’m really proud of her for that.

Lastly is Percabeth, my OTP among OTPs. They suffered so much in Tartarus, and I was practically jumping from the floor to the ceiling and back again when they got out of there. They lived through so much torture – sobs and sobs and wails and moans in agony – I can’t believe they got out in one piece. Percy and Annabeth are seriously awesome and I love them so much. I was practically crying the whole time I was reading them. And Percy still managed to be funny (even though he wasn’t really feeling his jokes) and Annabeth still managed to keep her wits about her (even though she struggled). The only part were my heart really took a plunge in the deep end of the misery pool was when Percy DROPPED his SWORD. I still can’t believe it. I know, it was Tartarus, and he was terrifying, and he was huge and horrible, but when Percy dropped his sword, a wave of shock rammed into me. He … dropped … Riptide. WHAT. And when Annabeth couldn’t see Percy anymore, that was horrible too.

🙂 I think that’s it for now. I believe one thousand three hundred words is enough for a review. Thanks for reading you guys, I know I was late but do you seriously, after all this time, expect anything else from me? I’m an expert on being late and apologizing for it. I believe that being late is part of me now … I’m not sure I like that.

Love you guys, like, comment, be awesome readers and do all that, follow if you’re not already, love you to death!

Love,

Emma 🙂