So.  Sooo.  My last post was basically three years ago.  Well, two and a half.  Why am I deciding to post now?  *shrug*  So much has changed.

Let us begin with the hilarious irony that is my post entitled Starbucks.  About how much I loathe coffee.  Well, you see, now I drink it.  All the time.  I used to despise it, and now I only tolerate it with so much creamer that it's basically milk.  I can't drink it black.  That may never come.  Sorry not sorry, black coffee.  There's a reason that I drink coffee now, and hold your breath..... because of a boy.  Okay let it out in a big, gooey sigh.

Actually, 2016 has been a monumental year for me.  I am getting married in September, and I am making a career change.  Unfortunately, it's not because my writings have taken off and I am signing a book deal with a publisher, no.  I have tried for many months to submit my Unicorn's Song story to various agents and haven't gotten a lead yet.  However!  that's not to say I won't keep trying, because who really knows when you will catch someone on the right day (as my fiance has said, encouragingly.)

I have been studying since February to become a Real Estate Agent in Texas.  I know, I will miss the little art gremlins, but I also want to try something completely different than anything I've ever done before!  God, for a second I was in college again, but this time with a full time job also. People that actually get a degree while raising a family and working, I salute you.  Because I only have fur-babies and a man-baby that I take care of.  (Just kidding, he's great.)    

Wow.  So, it seems as if I won't really have time to write much in the future.... I have my hand in several cookie jars.  Wedding, business, art, blah, blah, blah.  But perhaps I will review the book that I put down for like, YEARS, Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee.  (It hasn't been years.  But don't even think that I have read an ounce of a word for pleasure since I started studying to get my RE license.)  In any case, I am definitely out of practice with that.  So.  Too many cookie jars.  Lots of change.  My life is one fluid galaxy that is never the same.

It's been great talking to you again.

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As I clicked the link for my blog for the first time in several months, I will admit it made me nervous.  My heart skipped a beat, and like usual I feel little pricklies of sweat forming on my skin.  (I'm hot-blooded or something, so get over it I can't help that I sweat.  All the time.)

I have been writing a little these days, but I have been mostly reading, as far as the department of literature goes.  What I have really been doing with my time is making things.  I finally (after many tangles, throwings of yarn over my balcony, and just a light glisten in my eyes) taught myself to crochet.  And am now obsessed.  Call me a granny, but I pretty much feel like I could save the world with knit/crochet.  Well maybe not.  I am highly regretting my choice to make most of my Christmas presents this year because I am pretty sure that I am instilling premature arthritis into my fingers.  But I cannot bring myself to buy those support sleeves that I see in the crochet aisle of craft stores.  Oh god.  That is when I have gone off the deep end and someone have a serious talk with me....

A lot has happened to me in between my last post and this one.  Which is sad, because I know I should be writing more.  Let me just catch you up on my top five, Buzzfeed style.


5.  Getting half my thyroid gland removed.
         
            The benefit of this is that I have an interesting scar on my neck and tell all my students when            
            they ask that I am a pirate.


4.  Moving into an apartment.
           
            The best thing about this is that I can be a hermit without my parents telling me to get a life and
            be "social."  Which I am usually highly averse to.  The downside: the sasquatches that live
            above me.  Correction, the furniture building sasquatches that live above me.  There is no other
            way they could make so much ungodly noise.


3.  The combination of Hulu and Netflix. 

            Seriously, what else do hermits need in this world?

2.5.  Finishing the Game of Thrones series.
             
            Yes this is 2.5 because I remembered that it's kind of a big deal.  I was totally Daenerys for
            Halloween.  And I have found that being called Khaleesi is probably the best thing ever.

2.  Revamping my Etsy Shop this summer.

             I love that I can make and sell things.  That means that I don't have to keep them all.

1.  The addiction of creating things.

              This really extends throughout my life.  Writing, making handmade books, painting, drawing,  
              cooking, knitting and crocheting.  I've gotten so wrapped up in all of it that I dream about it.
              Constantly.


I miss writing, because even though I am still creating, I am not telling all of the stories that are pent up inside me.  And trust me, if I want to ever sleep again, they cannot stay here, in my head.  But I have some ideas and lots of things in the prelim stages.  Look for some more soon.  Peace.

 

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Title: A Game of Thrones, Book One of A Song of Ice and Fire


Author:  George R. R. Martin



Publishing Info:  Bantam Books (Spectra), 1996  


IBSN:  978-0-553-38168-9  


Genre: Fantasy


My Rating:  A



Summary from the back cover: 

Long ago, in a time forgotten, a preternatural event threw the seasons out of balance.  In a land where summers can last decades and winters a lifetime, trouble is brewing.  The cold is returning, and in the frozen wastes of the north of Winterfell, sinister and super natural forces are massing beyond the kingdom's protective Wall.  At the center of the conflict lie the Starks of Winterfell, a family as harsh and unyielding as the land they were born to.  Sweeping from a land of brutal cold to a distant summertime kingdom of epicurean plenty, here is a tale of lords and ladies, soldiers and sorcerers, assassins and bastards, who come together in a time of grim omen.

Here an enigmatic band of warriors bear swords of no man-made metal; a tribe of fierce wildlings carry men off into madness; a cruel young dragon prince barters his sister to win back his throne; and a determined woman undertakes the most treacherous of journeys.  Amid plots and counterplots, tragedy and betrayal, victory and terror, the fate of the Starks, their allies, and their enemies hangs perilously in the balance, as each endeavors to win that deadliest of conflicts: the game of thrones.

I became interested in this series when I heard about it on HBO.  That's sort of lame, yes, but I can honestly say that I am soooo glad.  I could cry over it actually.  Though not all my tears would be happy ones.    

One of my favorite parts about this book is that it is told from multiple perspectives.  Each chapter is headed by a character's name, and thus tells part of the story from his or her perspective.  The main characters telling the story are mostly from the Stark family, though there are a few others outside the family that tell important, and even conflicting views: Daenerys, a dragon princess whose house has fallen to the current king (the one from the summary about her brother selling her to a crazy barbaric horse lord), and Tyrion Lannister, a dwarf whose family holds the most power behind the throne (his sister is the queen, his brother a part of the Kingsguard, and his father Warden of the West).  

I grew attached to almost all of the characters who portrayed their view of the story.  Even though they are on opposing sides often times, since Daenerys' brother wants an army to regain his throne on the mainland from King Robert (who is basically Lord Stark's best friend), and Tyrion is pretty cool even though his sister the queen is a wicked, I repeat wicked, woman and the Lannister family breeds their offspring crueler than cruel.


The story is not one that you will finish, close the book and sigh happily about.  Oh no.  There were times where I cringed, or got chills, or wanted to cry, but I loved the book for its sense of reality.  No character has a protective "main character" shield around him or her that prevents horrible things from happening.  Martin is notorious for that, or at least I was warned by some tidbit of information of which I don't remember the source, that no character is safe.  It was even surprising at times, because he would build up this story around something, and then lo and behold... it would collapse and leave you saying "WHAT??!"  Or more often that not I'd be thinking in my head, "no, no, NO!!"  But Martin says yes.    

I plan on reading the rest when I can find them at a discounted price. (Target and Walmart have let me down heavily this week.)  I bought the expensive version apparently, but I am a "freak" as some call it *cough* my sister *cough* and must have the same version of the whole series or else it irks me to the point of losing sleep.

Okay, so there are some things I must say about the show.  I am about eight episodes in, which is almost at the end of the first season.  And I am freaking out because the first season basically covers the whole first book.  Do I have the other books? No! And it will take me forever to read them all because they are long.  But I promised myself I would read the books first, so here I am.  Worried.  (It must be another weird thing like the books all being the same kind.)  I keep secretly hoping that they change the ending of the first book in the show, because I am still in denial over it.  Sheesh.  If they don't, I guess I'll come to terms. 

Anyway, it really is an epic story.  I guess all people who write epic stories have R. R. as their middle initials.  Rock on.  I should change mine too.  It was well written, even amidst so many characters trying to tell the story (three different stories actually:  Daenerys across the sea, the battle for the throne in the Kingdom, and the strange happenings on the Northern Wall that guards the realm from the supernatural things beyond it.)  





Of course the battle has only just begun, because I am assuming one day all three stories will join, and there will be an intense fight that at this point of one book in, is really hard to predict the ending of, since I am sure more beloved characters will continue to die.  But who wins??  To me, it's worth knowing.    

 

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So I have some art of my characters from Cervinia, and I thought I'd share.  I need to make art about my characters more often, but life happens I guess.



Geir

Yes, sorry the paper is wrinkly T.T

Geir is a Volf.  And he's awesome.  The Volfen live in clans based around a hierarchy of Alphas, just like a wolf pack.  Geir is a tracker, and not a soldier anymore, but he has a lot of scars from serving in the military.  His kind have impeccable senses, including a sense of smell, but Geir's is even exceptional for his kind, which is why he tracks so well.

The Volfen have a stripe of hair that runs down their backs like the guard hairs on a wolf (or dog's) back.  I thought that a tail would be too much, so they don't have those.  However, if you notice in the first part of the story, Geir and his tracker friends run everywhere.  They have no domesticated animals, because they are too close to the wolf, the natural enemy of basically every animal ever.  No horsees.  I'm just trying to be realistic. *wink*    

I didn't draw his tats on the right pic, I just never got around to it.  (He also has hastily drawn clothes because I made it at school and I had students insisting that he was naked. *eye-roll*)

So yeah.  He's not a particularly happy guy, I know.



Sha'deaux








Sha'deaux is an Elki.  The Elkion are nomadic forest dwellers, like deer (duh, you know that).  The males have elk-like horns that can grow to be some pretty nice racks.... Sorry.  Bad humor.  Anyway, Sha'deaux is the next High Shaman.  The High Shaman is the spiritual leader of the people, a female born with antlers.  The male leader is the High Elder, in charge of the Elders' council.  So they have a much more democratic form of government, whereas the Volfen basically have a king.

Sha'deaux has these little thingys tied to her antlers, spiritual charms and such each tied with a red thread.  I've only done one picture of her, but I have reworked the original sketch I made of her into a painting.  A painting that includes a lot of experimentation with coffee and old book pages and watercolors.

If you haven't noticed already, I enjoy parallels.  I suppose that's all I really have to say about it.  Like I said, the book is in the early stages still.

  

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As promised! Here is the beginning of a story I am working on.  I am calling it Cervinia right now, but who knows if that will change.  I will post the second part of the beginning later, so that you can get a feel for the other main character.  Okay, I'll shut up and let you get to it....

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Have I created a blog post!  I feel like I have let people down, like my cats, who read my blog and refresh the page a hundred times to make me feel better... Juniper, Tucker, I am sorry.  Don't vomit in my shoe again.

Anyways, I haven't posted because when I get home from work I have a choice to make a beeline for the exercise bike, or my computer to keep writing The Unicorn's Song, which I have Finished the major editing of!!! I admit, I freaked a little.  I need to tweak a few things, but soon I will be giving it a final once over before it's ready for meeting the world of publishing!  Hopefully. (Looking back I am not sure why I felt the need for capitalization on finished, but oh well)

Scary prospect.  Even scarier prospect: I usually run away from the exercise bike.

I've decided I have too many hobbies to bother myself with unimportant things, like daily exercise and healthy eating choices.

I have to gush for a second and say that my story has really grown into more than I thought it ever could be.  And that's because I took the leap to actually put it out there in front of an audience.  So I appreciate my readers who have given me feedback and who have read my writing! Thanks!!!!

Okay enough of that.  I'm in a mushy mood because it's almost Valentine's Day.  I have always enjoyed Valentine's Day, regardless of being in a relationship because I just love to love! I get my family presents, I smooch my cats, and now I have 500 little valentines at school.  It's Awesome.  (Again, the strange urge to capitalize)

So in apology for my log absence, I have decided to put part of the other story I am working on into my blog.  It is still very early in the works, unlike The Unicorn's Song, so there won't be as much of it, but expect to see that soon.  Maybe even today!!

For now I must go, because my new obsession is terrariums and I need to make preparations and buy plants.

Toodles!

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Title: Bones of Faerie


Author:  Janni Lee Simner


Publishing Info:  Random House Books 2009


IBSN:  978-0-375-84563-5


Genre: Young Adult Fantasy


My Rating:  B



Like Cinder, I came across this book at a bookfair at my elementary school.  (But I can't imagine a 10 year old reading this story for reasons I will soon explain.)

Here is a synopsis of the book:

The war between humanity and Faerie devastated both sides.  Or so fifteen-year-old Liza has been told.  Nothing has been seen or heard from Faerie since, and Liza's world bears the scars of its encounter with magic.  Corn resist being harvested; dandelions have thorns.  Trees move sinister intention, and the town Liza calls home is surrounded by a forest that threatens to harm all those who wander into it.  Still, Liza feels safe.  Her father is strong and has protected their town by laying down strict rules.  Among them: Any trace of magic must be destroyed, no matter where it is found.


So basically the plants are evil, even shadows can harm people, and there are exploding butterflies.  That reminds me of the flesh eating butterflies in Snow White and the Huntsman, which is the only lingering impression that movie had on me, but let's not get on that soapbox.

Did the cover mention that Liza's dad is CRAY and even kills people who exhibit magical properties?  Well yes, but I did not feel like typing the whole thing.  Liza's little sister is born and she looks like a little faerie creature so the dad leaves her out overnight and something eats her, which is just bone chilling.  (I am not spoiling anything here, just summarizing the cover.  Much easier.)  Oh and there's this little tidbit of a story that a baby was born with bird claws and definitely tore the mom up as it came out so that she bled to death.

We are a far cry from Tinkerbell and Fairy Hollow.

Liza starts seeing the future in shiny surfaces (water, metal, etc.) and has to run away from her town, lest she be harmed by her father.  But I am not sure that she entirely believes he would hurt her.  Even though he kills her sister, which causes her mother to leave them, and he beats her when she is "late for chores," Liza defends her father when he is spoken ill of by others.  Their relationship is interesting because she believes that all magic is evil, since that is what her father has taught her.  (though demon bird babies clawing their moms' lady parts during birth is pretty sinister.)  He has taught her to survive and she is just his little star pupil.  She even shows some of his qualities through out the story, but you'll have to discover those for yourself.  But as she finds magic that doesn't hurt others, she becomes conflicted about how much good her father has really done over the years.

Liza goes on her adventure first just to run away and then to find her mother.  I gave this book a B because mainly, it was short.  There is nothing wrong with short, but I wished it had been longer.  Like even for the sake of character development.  When I finished, I was like, "is that it?"  I blew through this book in about a week, which is amazing considering that it takes me ages to read a book these days.  So there was no lack of action and attention holding.  I was just sad that it ended so quickly.  There is apparently a sequel, but I didn't know that at the time.  It is pretty good even as a stand alone story.

I recommend this book if you need a quick read during travels.  Like sitting in the airport for copious amounts of hours, or wherever the wind takes you.  And if you like dark, post apocalyptic fantasy where trees throw their nuts at people.

Exploding butterflies!!

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Okay, so as I unwind from a ridiculous week that included many surprises (some of them stinky) I would like to share some things that made me laugh out loud.  They explored their creativity by making collage books.  Apparently some of my students think that they are comedians.  And some of them... well, they are just themselves.

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Today was probably like any old Monday.  I got up, went to work, dealt with boogers, went to the chiropractor, saw my sister, ate dinner, and went to the 3rd grade performance at my school (so dealt with more boogers but at night.)  And finally, I am home.

But ohhhh, no.  Monday got to me.  I suppose you could say it began when I woke up and was like @#$%^$...  I ate the rest of my chocolatey cereal and was like ahh, 2@#$*...  Nearly forgot my tea, but went back inside to get it.  That was fortunate, because my mood would have soured much more quickly.  The time change has me discombobulated.

It was actually light outside when I left, and of course since I am used to waking up early, my body was like GET UP!! an hour before my alarm went off.  I feel like when I was in college, I couldn't give two flips about the time change, but now that I am all growned up and have to pay bills and get up at 5:30 AM, I am like what the buggers is with the time change? Whose idea was that?  When I got home it was only 7:45 pm but it seemed really late and my body was all like "are we going out and staying up late? Because it feels like it WEEE!!"

So back to my day at work.  I definitely did not have it together, and by the end of my first class I had glue dripping from my appendages and apparently paint on my face (which stayed all morning because I had no break to get to a mirror or remember to go look when I did.)  Suncatchers yay!!  But the one thing that made me happy for that hour of chaos was that a student was helping me put the work on the drying rack and he looked at me and said, "They should call you the Art Queen."  I said "Wow, thank you!" and in my mind was thinking, "you know they should call me that."

The rest of the morning was okay, including a performance by the third graders.  Each grade (except for Kindergarten, thank God) does a play/performance each year.  This year, the third graders did an under the sea show where there were all these sharks and clown fish and other interesting creatures.  My favorite part of the play is when a clown fish is like "hey, everybody I have a joke!"  Everyone rolls their eyes because he is apparently "not a funny clown fish."  Well I think he is because his joke goes like this:  "What would Oliver Twist be if he lived in the ocean?"  (Sigh from the others, "Whaaat?") "A sea urchin!" And then he snorts with laughter while no one else laughs.  Well, except for me, because that's hilarious.

I'll skip over my teacher's lounge excursions that involve teacherly banter to the afternoon, which of course starts with Kindergarten.  They were pretty well behaved and we learned about 3-D objects called "sculptures."  I tried to explain about 2-D but that apparently sounds like "Tootie" so I discovered, and skipped over it when the kids were like "TOOTIES???" No.

I had a student burst into tears over one of my special little friends who just thinks that his world is made to annoy/antagonize others.  I got the boy calmed down and everything continued on fine.  Until we lined up to leave.  I turn around, and a child clocks my annoyer right in the eye.  Well he starts screaming bloody murder as if the kid had plucked his eyeball right from its socket.

Okay then, little drama queen.  I had to send a behavior note home because "we do not touch others" at school.  But in my head, I know my special friend provoked the attack.  He would do better if he would refrain from being an impetuous nut.  But voila, that's what happens when you are ANNOYING.  You get punched.

Anyway, my last class went mostly okay.  My students were finishing their paintings and I was meandering around, then went to my desk to type some frivolous things when I heard a student turn to the other and call him "a bald headed chicken."  Now at this point in my day, that phrase was hysterical to me.  I started laughing and then of course that table of boys decided to make up more ridiculous insults that made no sense and involved platypuses and mustaches.

Looking back, I am like, "Yes. It was that kind of day where I thought 'bald headed chicken' was actually funny."  It came to that.  But I'm okay with it.  The third grade performance was fantastic and super adorable.  Tuesday is always better.

    

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Hocus Pocus is one of my all time favorite Halloween movies.  Even though it used to scare the bejesus out of me as a child.  I was so escared of being eaten by witches between this movie and the one based on the Roald Dahl book Witches, that I often stayed up late into the night wondering if I would be taken by the scourge.

If you have never seen the movie, well then I am sadly depressed for you.  It's about this punk kid, his wee sister, and his "dream girl" who bring back these three evil witches from the 1600s who want to eat all of the children in Salem so that they will be young again and forever.  And if you haven't seen it then I am about to give away all of the good parts.

The witches are amazing.  My two cousins and I used to pretend we were the witches and we would hunt "children" but really just run around being witches.  I was always Winifred, the lead witch, which I do not mind because she is the most badass one and the only one who could really do any cool magic.  I wanted to be like Sarah though, the stupid, slutty one because she was pretty and she could sing.  But I guess I fit into the roll of Winnie more naturally because I was the one who got to make all the decisions.  I suppose I identified with Sarah because she kept talking about wanting to put boys up on a hook and play with them.  I was not sure what that meant, but I was interested to find out how that'd go.  Does that make me deranged?

Anyway, I didn't know a lot of things when I was a kid, like what a "virgin who lit the black flame candle that brought the witches back" was.  I just assumed that younger people were virgins and older people weren't.  There was no contemplation about what it really was.  (I was a very accepting child.)

Let's get back to the movie.  And talk about my everloving crush, Zachary Binx.  Why should be obvious.  I loved him.  I wanted to be his little sister that died, except for the dying part.  Plus, he was a kitty cat that could not die, and I experienced my first cat death when I was five.  (She was black and white and her name was Sylvester because my dad thought she was a boy.  And then one day she had kittens.)  Since I am a cat lady, that worked out perfectly.  And to jog memories, Binx was a boy in the 1600's whose sister was kidnapped by the witches, and he tried to save her and Winifred turned him into a cat that was supposed to live forever and they ate his sister anyway.  And he can totally talk.

I always come unglued when the cat actually dies at the end.  I didn't want him to die, but I guess it freed his soul and blah blah blah.  I pretended during the movie that I was the main guy's little sister, Dani, because she got to be the object of Binx's affections.  It was totally not fair.

But you know, then and now the main character, Max, annoyed me.  He exhibited the classic teen angst of "I hate my life because we moved here."  Actually when he says to his sister, "Collect your candy and get out of my life," it totally brings up my favorite line from Napoleon Dynamite, "I wish you'd get out of my life and shut up!" I say it all the time.  Plus okay, there is no way the dream girl, Allison, would go for stupid Max who carried around a lighter for no apparent reason and even said at the beginning he "doesn't smoke."  It comes in handy for the burning rain of death sure, but come on.  WTF.

Speaking of smoking, I absolutely love the stupid bullies.  Especially the dumb blonde one that talked like he was from Cali.  Even though their idea about "watching babes undress" by peeking through windows still haunts me a bit.

And now, the witches.  Winnie, Sarah, and Mary.  The epitome of witchiness.  Just like Winifred says, "We are witches! We are evil! What would mother say if she saw us like this?" Of course meaning them battling the 20th century and their various encounters with buses and high school kilns and such.  I love the song they sung at the party, I love that Mary had to resort to riding a vacuum cleaner, and I love the zombie that they called up: "Billy" who kept losing his various body parts through out the movie as he chased the kids.

Before I leave you with my favorite quotes, let me just say that I did not know that people celebrated a holiday called Holloween.  It's HAH-lloween.  That is all.



All my faves from Winnie:

"Another glorious morning. Makes me sick!"

"Zachary Binx, thou mangy feline!"

"Find those children, you maggot museum!"

"Behold, a torture chamber!"

"We desire...Children."

"Mary, take me to the window. I wish to say good-bye."

"It is my curse.  That, and you two."

"You know I always wanted a child.  And now I'll have one. ON TOAST!!!"

And of course, there is a part where a little girl is trick or treating dressed up as an angel.  She bows to the witches and is all like "bless you."  The witches scream and chase her away.  Because of course, Satan is their master.  It's hilarious.




  

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I have been having a hard time.  Not just because I am trying to divide my time between making art and my writing.  Well yeah, that's just it.  I don't have time to get anything done!  I have been writing little snippets of things, but not making a lot of headway in The Unicorn's Song or in my new story I am working on.  I have though decided that I want to traditionally publish my work.  For now.  So that is a good solid decision that I have made.  Also that I am giving myself five years before I am going to be a writer/artist full time.  It's already driving me crazy.  As evidence here, that's obvious.

I have been working on my artist website as well : http://www.kirstenlaurie.com/ so that I can get a move on with my artwork and being an artiste.  I have come up with some new concepts that I am trying out (still in the sketching phase) that I will be posting about on my blog there.

Hold the phone... My deaf and elderly dog just heard (barely because she is deaf) the door beep since my mom went in and out the front door.  However, she goes to the garage door and stands with her nose nearly against it, still as a board for several seconds.  I am staring at her like ??? Poor thing, she is senile as they get.  What does she think is going to happen if someone comes suddenly through that door?  What always happens.  She gets a face full of door.  Lord.

Anyway, as you can tell I am suffering from a scatter brained sense of reality these days where I apparently can't focus on one thing for very long.  Oh well.  I see an intervention coming soon where I move to a permanent workspace (where currently to my mother's distaste is the kitchen table.)  Whereabouts will this space be, I have no idea because there is no room and no good windowage anywhere I already have workspace (like my bedroom).

Since I haven't posted in a while, I just wanted to admit to some babblings before I go off on a writing/drawing/painting tangent elsewhere.  Oh, plus my school duties.  I must attend to those too.



Edit:  I'd like to add that I was inspired by a country song on the radio while I was driving a little bit ago: "I'm in a hurry to get things done, oh I rush and rush until life's no fun. All I really gotta do is live and die, but I'm in a hurry and don't know why."  Except I have lots of more things to do than live and die. Why am I in a hurry is my question.  Exactly.  I don't know why.  Thanks Alabama.

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      “Would you stop looking at me like a crazy owl?” he snapped, propping himself up on his elbows.  
      But her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped forward into him, unconscious.  “Oh, great,” he muttered.




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So I am gingerly typing at school to start this blog post, because for some reason my internet at my home is refusing to cooperate, and has probably died because it won't even show up on my computer that it exists.

Many things have been going on, including my self-inflicted hermitage to get writing done when I would otherwise be doing things like actually seeing others in public.  I've been talking to my cats a lot instead.  They don't give good advice.

Anyway, I have been needing to post an update for a while now.  I am editing, editing, editing The Unicorn's Song.  I am past half way, which is awesome, but also means that I am progressing at a sloth-like rate.  Mostly because of distractions.  The first large distraction was the short story I wrote called "Eleven," and now I have a new one.  But it's not a short story!  It is another novel!! *sob* I just have to take a break and a breath.  Hold please.......................... okay.

The new one, for lack of a better name, I am calling Cervinia. I may post the first page or something, but it is just barely past the legal pad outline stage.  It has been a great distraction, because sometimes I just need fresh characters to think about.  Kora and Evan have been in my brain for soooo long.  I probably just need to believe that I can create other characters, like Etari Luna from "Eleven." 

Alas, I must admit that I will only be posting The Unicorn's Song up to chapter thirteen.  The rest can be saved for the book!  When I can get the editing done that is.  I can now say that I have outlined the crap out of the entire story, which will take four books to complete.  Please send me some good juju!  What a feat that will be.

If I have to go back to Starbucks to use the internet, lord help me...



Just as a happy after thought, a Kindergartener not only licked the glue bottle, but ate a crayon in art today.  He was "hungry."
   

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      Kora sat up.  Evan walked off before she could protest that he shouldn’t go alone.  Drooping back against the wall she closed her eyes, waiting.  She didn’t have energy to even formulate words, let alone get up and go with him.




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Title:  Graceling

Author:  Kristin Cashore

Publishing Info:  Harcourt Inc. 2008

IBSN:  978-0-15-206396-2

Genre:  Teen Fantasy



My Rating:  C+





Okay.  Before everyone who absolutely loves the Graceling books gets all mad at me, I just have to say that there are always those books or movies that people really love and then you are like "Yeah!  I'm gonna read/watch that!!!" and then you really can't get into them.

That's what happened to me.  I just didn't love it.  It was okay, in my opinion.  I didn't hate it.  And I really enjoyed the ending.

The synopsis from the inside cover:

In a world where people born with an extreme skill--called a Grace--are feared and exploited, Katsa carries the burden of a skill even she despises: the Grace of Killing.  She lives under the command of her uncle Randa, King of the Middluns, and is expected to execute his dirty work, punishing and torturing anyone who displeases him.
When she first meets Prince Po, who is Graced with combat skills, Katsa has no hint of how her life is about to change.
She never expects to become Po's friend.
She never expects to learn a new truth about her own Grace--or about a terrible secret that lies hidden far away... a secret that could destroy all seven kingdoms with words alone.


There was little connection for me.  I didn't like Katsa, the main character.  I thought her character was not as thorough as it could have been.  She seemed to be this violently hardened person, but then she would be loving and cry.  It just wasn't consistent to me, and admittedly bothered me.

But let's talk about Po.  I will just say, I am a name snob.  To the point where I thought of some hilarious puns to go along with Po's name, which apparently comes from a tree:  (There may be a couple spoilers, just warning you.)


"Hey, girl.  What's your name?  Mine's Po.  Like the tree."

"Did you know I have the Po-tential to rock your world?"

"Make me a sandwich.  I want a Po-boy."

"Take a Po-laroid.  It lasts longer."

"You left me in the woods, but I ain't no Po-cahontas, you know."

"You gonna call the Po-Po?  Call the Po-Po hoe!"

"Do you like my Po-kemon cards?  How about my Po-keballs?"


Okay, sorry.  I hope you laughed, if not from how stupid they were, then because you actually thought they were funny.

When Katsa and Po became friends, I was like "Okay, when are they going to do it?"  I have to admit that.  Maybe what got me through the book was that question + curiosity.  I think that in a lot of books.  And movies.  But I am not always rewarded for my dirty thoughts.    

Aside from that, I will reiterate that I did like the ending.  Like after the climax and then all the rest.  (I'm just trying not to spoil it.  I don't like to put spoilers in my posts.  That's why I am not telling you if they did it or not.)  It was the most intrigued I was for the whole book, so I recommend it if only for that reason.

I don't have a lot to say past those things.  Has the first book deterred me from reading the others?  Certainly not.  I do plan on reading them.  I know writing is always developing, so I won't judge Fire and Bitterblue on this one.  Graceling is Cashore's first novel.  There's nothing wrong with growth, and I speak for myself when I say that.

And I maybe already purchased them... *guilty smile*   

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It's not my fault that I have been duly obsessed over the TV show Once Upon A Time and also Sherlock and haven't been writing.  I had finished both series on Netflix and then they put up the second season of Sherlock TODAY! So duh, I am watching.
They are awesome shows.  Sherlock is pretty much amazing with his ingenious, sociopathic hilarity.

I just haven't posted much in awhile.  That is sad, I admit.  What is also sad, is that I really want to devote some blog posts to inappropriate yet innocent artworks of my students.  Mostly of a phallic nature.  However then people would probably stop reading and by some unearthly force I would be fired for some kind of privacy breach or something.  So sad.

Yes, I am that immature person, but hey I have to deal with booger picking, screeching 5-10 year olds every day so I have to get my kicks from something.  Not to worry, I do love them.  They are all quite cute and most of them are sweet little things.  But I swear the Kindergarteners are like the ones from the kids' show Recess.      

The other day Party in the USA came on the radio and I was all "I absolutely refuse to sing this song."  But I only made it about half way before my lips spewed forth Miley Cyrus' babblings of their own accord.  That seems wholly unrelated to teaching, but I was driving home and it amused me.

One more thing!!  I made a painting inspired by Etari Luna from my short story "Eleven."  It is interesting how art always turns out different than the original plan, but still seems okay in the end.  I may as well share.  I made it for an art show in October.  It's called Socio.  Yippee!        

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Yes, I said it.  Poop.  I waltzed into my kitchen this morning, sipping my tea and munching my cheerios without any sort of idea what I was going to encounter.  I was editing away and needed to go get my charger from the dining room table.

When I got to the dining room table, what did I find?  A lovely cat turd gift from one of my kitties nestled in the coils.  I'll admit it, I laughed.  I laughed while I threw the poop away and while I scrubbed the table with disinfectant.  I mean, you have to laugh sometimes to keep from getting mad, right?  My mom had just mentioned changing the cat litter and I was all, "Speaking of pooooop!!!"  It was hilarious.

But oh, I was shut up real fast when I got back to my computer, which was charging, and the scent of crap pervaded the air.  Yep, the cord smelled.  I disinfected it, and it still stank.  I gave it some time, it still STANK.  What the hell?  I was tweeting and writing in agony.  So then, I got pet stain and odor remover and sprayed it all over the cord.  But I really haven't tried to sniff it again.  I'd rather not keep smelling poop today.

To add insult to injury, my dad said that he was going to start calling June (my cat) Skid because he figured she did it, and not Tucker.  Which means that I have to tell another mysterious poop story.

One early morning I was eating my breakfast before work when my dad walked in the kitchen and suddenly shouted, "What is that?!"  Curious, I asked what he meant and we both looked on the baseboard by the entry way door, and there was a little turd stuck to the wall.

It was high enough to warrant some raw talent from a certain cat in our house.  Duckie was out of the question because she is fat and lazy and would never leap into the air and poop on the wall at the same time.  Tucker, whom I call "special" does not really exhibit a lot of talent in anything, except for killing and leaving half eaten geckos in the hallway, and laying on his back with his legs in the air so that my mom coos about how cute he is.

That left only Juney.  Now, I have seen before when Tucker has scared her and caused a little nugget to fall from her perfect, fluffy bum.  So I assumed she was just the cat to have the talent to poop on the wall.  (We showed my mom and as my dad and I were laughing, she was scowling at June with her lips pursed.  A similar thing happened this morning when the "gift" was found on the table.)

So, my dad assuming June had done it again, kept saying "Here skiddy, skiddy."  I hate it.  What a foul name for such a perfect and beautiful and talented baby.  June is very vocal, and kept saying to me "I didn't do it, Mom!  Ladies do not poop on the table!"

Because any old cat can poop on a table, and that is why I am blaming the whole ordeal on Tucker the Special.

I will not comment on the poop being a criticism of my writing.  I couldn't accept that my own cats are crapping on my stuff so that I may stop my nonsense.  I have dreams too, you fluffy jerks!  Dreams that don't involve one day murdering the rabbit that lives in the backyard.


Please witness my cats and their dumb:

    

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                                   ✜ ✜ ✜ ✜


Read Part I

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