Saturday, November 27, 2010

Toss the Feathers - The Corrs



HAH! I knew I had a more recent version of the last excerpt, so I did a little digging and found it.

The final edit might be some mix of the two. I think I've got a lot more description in the second one. Ah well, read them both and tell me what you think.



~~~~~ Out of the Frying Pan: Edited ~~~~~


“What… what do you want?!?” Sheila tried hiding the fear in her voice. “Like I said,” the gruff man replied, “we’re taking you with us!” He stepped closer. “Stay away from us!” She took a step back. “Listen, girlie!” snapped the evil man. “I’m taking ya’ll and I don’t care if you like it or not!” Sheila continued backing away, but bumped into something. She glanced around and saw she was trapped; cornered between the wall and the stove. She looked back at her attacker, her eyes wide with fear. “No where to go, eh?” he sounded as if he could read her very thoughts. “Well, I guess you’re outa luck! Hahaha!” his laugh was deep and sickening. Sheila’s mind raced with panic. This large, coldhearted guy was determined to take her and her siblings, but she was paralyzed with fear. They heard a voice from the back of the cabin. “Get away from her!” Liam dashed forward and tried to tackle the menace. Before he could even reach him, one of the other thugs grabbed him and threw him to the ground. “What are you trying to pull here, kid?!” The big man mocked Liam as Sheila watched with widened eyes. She tried to scream, but her voice failed her. Liam tried to get up, but was hit in the face by a minion’s fist. Liam fell back to the floor with blood spilling from his nose. “You can’t stop us, kid!” He tried to get up a third time; he jumped to his feet and ran toward the leader of this merciless band. Liam pushed past the first menace and had just about reached his target when the second brut punched him in the stomach. Liam slid to the ground; his eyes squeezed shut with pain. “Hah! Let that be a lesson to ya!” The man and all his friends laughed long and hard. Liam had fought so hard to help, but was knocked down every single time. Seeing her brother lying on the floor in agony caused a fire to burn inside Sheila. She was angry, enraged that these vicious men had come in here and attacked her brother for attempting to save her. She was furious! She glared at her enemy, who was still laughing at Liam. With fury like no other, Sheila grabbed the handle of the heavy iron skillet behind her with both hands and swung it at her opponent’s thick head. It hit him just as he was turning around to face her. The evil man fell to the ground screaming in anguish. The other two men froze in shock as they stared at her. She wielded the skillet in both hands as some sort of bladed weapon, her newfound confidence evident through her glaring, fiery eyes. She raced toward the enemy and swung the deadly frying pan at the first man’s head. He swerved just in time to avoid the assault. Sheila changed directions and swung at the other ruffian. He was not as swift and got hit in the side with the heavy pan. The first man snatched Sheila from behind and lifted her into the air, the skillet falling from her hands. “Let me GO!!!” She screamed as she kicked furiously in an effort to get away. Her wild thrashing eventually caused the man to let go of his hold. She dropped to the ground and made a mad dive the pan. Just as she grasped the handle and stood up, she was hit by a powerful blow. She fell to the ground almost instantly, blood slowly oozing from the back of her throbbing head. “Get the kids!” The big man glared at her from above. “What about her?!” whined the wounded underling. Their criminal leader apparently understood his subordinates’ biased sense of justice. “Leave her to die!” With that reply, he stormed from the cabin. The minions took the children captive and followed. The last thing Sheila heard before her vision faded to black were little Tulia’s cries.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Last Rose of Summer - Celtic Woman



So, I decided to let ye all read some of one of my stories, Irish Rose.
Because most of my creative energy goes into writing Ice Sword Chronicles, this story is among many left on the back burner.

Though maybe I can convince you to see diamond in the rough.

I started writing this novel about 4 years ago, though I stopped soon after. I just started really writing again last November.
One of my dreams is to actually finish and get this book published. I'm a long way off, considering I haven't fully written the rough draft yet, but I'm getting there.

I'll let you read some info on it then an excerpt.

Motive: I first decided to write this book to prove that I could write a story just as good as, if not better than, Eragon. As time passed, I was more focused on creating and completing a work of art that I hoped would be enjoyed and appreciated by others.

Summary:
Sheila Gallowglass undertakes the challenge of moving her siblings across the war-torn country with the hope of reuniting with their parents. However, this task proves to be more difficult than she imagined.

Setting: American Civil War, early 1860’s


Excerpt:

~~~~~ Out of the Frying Pan ~~~~~


“What… what do you want?” Sheila backed away from the gruff men. Three more shoved past Elisabeth into the small cabin. “We’re here to take you and the rats to trial for helping a runaway slave!” the leader spat. “She’s not a slave!” Elisabeth said, clearly infuriated. “Ain’t she now? I guess we’ll just have to see about that!” With those words, the thugs slowly moved in to capture her young siblings. The leader of this hoard of villains made his way to Sheila. “Stay away from us.” her weak reply only caused him to laugh. She knew she needed to stop them, but she only continued backing away from the invaders. Sheila glanced behind herself when she bumped into the wall. She had backed right into a corner between the wall and the stove. Filled with fear, she looked back at the evil man. Sheila knew she was trapped and so did her kidnapper. “Nowhere to go, huh?” he sneered as he edged closer. “Get away from her!” Liam dashed forward in an effort to save his sister. Before he could reach his target, one of the ruffians lifted him into the air and threw him to the ground. Liam landed on his back with a loud thump. The leader turned to Liam, a deep sickening laugh emanating from his throat. “What are you trying to pull here, kid? You can’t stop us!” With fury in his eyes, Liam hopped to his feet and made a mad dash for the man. He shoved past the first two minions, but another one hit Liam in the face so hard it knocked him back down to the floor. Liam stayed down, blood spilling from his nose and his eyes squeezed shut with pain. The heinous man laughed even harder. All the men in the group laughed with him. They all mocked Liam and his attempt to protect his sister. Sheila couldn’t stand seeing Liam defeated and lying on the floor in anguish. With the evil men’s laughter ringing in her ears, Sheila took hold of the heavy iron skillet sitting on the stove. “Get out!” With a mighty swing, Sheila hit the leader just as he turned back to face her. Howling in pain, he fell to the floor clutching his bleeding head. Stunned, the kidnappers ceased their advancement. Brandishing the frying pan as a sword, Sheila charged to the closest thug and swung again. This man had to swiftly scramble out of the way to avoid the oncoming attack. Sheila changed directions and flew at the next man. Not being able to move quickly enough, he caught the blow of the heavy pan with his side. With fire in her eyes, she pressed the assault. Just as she brought the pan down in another heavy swing, a pair of arms grabbed her from behind and lifted her into the air. Caught by surprise, Sheila dropped her makeshift weapon and heard it clatter on the wooden floor. “Let me go!” Screaming, she thrashed her legs in an effort to get away. Her violent struggling caused her captor to lose his hold. She deftly landed on both feet and made a dive for the skillet. Just as she turned around, she felt a sudden crash to the back of her head. She crumpled to the floor, blood dripping from her head. The cruel leader of the gang of kidnappers glared at Sheila’s unconscious form. “Get the rats!” Only one subordinate was fooling enough hesitate in carrying out the command. “What about her?” His timid question evoked even more rage from his livid boss. “Leave her to die!” he spat out with hate. Sheila could still hear Tulia’s cries as her vision faded to black.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Unwritten - Natasha Beddingfield


*Content sigh*
At last, some free time. Course, it' not really free. I just have less to do every day.
I feel like writing again.
Or playing some KH.
Or drawing yet another picture of Hanna.
AH! I've got it! I should work on editing ISC! Yeah. That's what I should do.
In any case, I've got time and inspiration. Creativity can't be far behind. <_< >_>

*thinks* I should have a word war...

*yawns* ...or sleep... I could use more sleep... I'm going to need it fairly soon...

Bah, forget that. I feel like writing!

I don't care if my notes are in the other room, I'm writing without them!

Hmm... where to start...

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Breakaway - Kelly Clarkson




I've never been a big fan of change. Sure, I like variety, but stability and I go a long way back. I like some things to stay the way they are. Other things I'm just fine with changing.

Moving to college? Bring it on.

Extra schoolwork? Oh, how I've missed thee.

Meeting new people? Sure, just watch your approach.

American swing-sets? I'm tempted to tear one down and rebuild it my way...

Calling someone other than my mother "Mama"? ...I'll get back to you on that.


This has been the season of change. Ever since I got here, life has been a roller coaster of events. I haven't been able to pull off an all-nighter, simply because I've been too exhausted to. How I miss homeschooling. Time was never exactly on my side, but now it's attacking in full force.

Then there's the emotional drama involved. Ick, I never thought of myself as being very girly. "A tomboy at heart," I say. Jeans, mud, four-wheelers, woodworking, programming, plumbing, video games, rock climbing, heated debates over which hero is better. (Btw, Batman wins. Every time.) Let's face it, romantic conversations have never appealed to me. 9 out of 10, I'm hanging out with the guys. One of my hobbies is actually making fun of the sappy chick flicks I'm forced to watch.

Logic has been my best friend since I can remember. After all, "The melodies of logic must always play out the truth." Right?

Right..... not.

Anyway, yeah... none of the girls I know love logic the way I do. Some come close, but...
I say "Computer Engineering" and they say "....Wow, I'm glad you can do that because that's over my head." *facepalm*
Then there are the others who say, "Oh, you're one of THOSE people..."

Well, I must have picked the right major because I seem to be doing exceedingly well in my programming class. I started an assignment before the teacher finished telling us what to do. Course I was the first to finish. This isn't the first time that's happened. Hopefully, it won't be the last. Hopefully, the class isn't just really easy and I won't find myself struggling with the other computer classes next semester. Always Hope.

Wow, now I'm just rambling. Evil fatigue. Ah well, my time of rest shall come. Thanksgiving break. Christmas break. Either way, I need a vacation. In some ways, I want my old life back. Things were so much simpler then. But... that's not what life is about... is it? Of course not. No one would ever grow if they stayed in the same place all their lives.