Savin’ Me – Nickelback

Wow, long time no see…er…hear…read… something along those lines.

Life has an uncanny knack of sucking the life out of me at times.

Some days I find myself thinking, “Bring it on! I can handle anything you throw at me! Nothing can deter me from accomplishing what I set out to do.”

Then there are the days where I find myself whispering, “Save me. Please. I can’t keep this up.”

One thing I find myself wishing for recently is a pair of wings. Yes, wings. Like Hanna’s wings. Exactly like Hanna’s wings. See, they supposedly give you this awesome ability of unaided human flight. With wings, one can soar the skies, explore the mountains, and sail upon the clouds. They can give you speed and perspective. With wings, you don’t have to worry about falling. You’ll always be able to stop yourself from ever hitting the ground. With wings, you can escape dangerous situations. You can fly away from toils and heartache for a time.

On second thought, wings might not be such a great idea. With unlimited power and freedom, what’s to keep you from pride? Without fear of failure and defeat, how do you experience true perseverance and success? With such an easy escape route, what is there to teach you responsibility and dependence?

With wings, why would you need God?

*sigh* Yes, it’s been that kind of week. Granted there were some very enjoyable times throughout the week, though more often than not they get pushed to the backburner when you’re sleep deprived.

I really felt like writing something though. Every now and then you have to just take a few minutes and forget about the demands of life. Whether that is through video games, books, friends, writing, or sleeping is your choice. Well, I guess sleeping doesn’t really count because we have to do that out of necessity anyway and we can’t really say we enjoy it because we’re asleep. Unless you take a nap and have some kind of epic dream and remember it or something.

Off topic.

I know a lot of people who have had it pretty rough over the past couple weeks, this last week especially. Discouragement, just as encouragement, can spread like wildfire. It takes strong people to, not only stand against oncoming discouragement, but to turn that around and spread encouragement to those in need as well. One part of a sermon I once heard made the point that agape love is loving someone because they need it. Everyone needs to be loved and encouraged. Because we are fallible humans, it seems easier to encourage some people more than others. With some people, it’s just so much easier to ignore them than to try and say something nice to them, more so because of their own actions and attitudes than yours. They still need someone to love them, someone to help them out, especially when no one else will. That was the point of the sermon anyway.

The great thing about being a listening ear is that if you can’t find any way to help someone, at the very least, you’re there to listen. They know you’re there for them, sometimes that’s all it takes.
I came here to study for a degree, but maybe… It isn’t about the four years of studying for a degree… maybe it’s about the moments in between those years helping those you care about.

Agree? Disagree? Thoughts?

God put us when and where we are for a reason. We are what and who we are because of how we got here. God has always been there for us, whether we accepted His help or not. He is still there for us. We cannot even begin to comprehend what God has planned for us if we will accept His help.
Psalm 73; John 14:27; Phil. 4:6, 7; Jer. 1:5

Yeah, sleep deprivation gets me on a multitude of varying tangents.

On a lighter note, I stopped to think about the practicality of some of the epic battles I’ve had a hand in writing. I came to the conclusion that what Hanna lacks in common sense, she makes up for in agility.

I keep getting this longing to write again. Not school writing, hobby writing. Fun writing. Ice Sword Chronicles, Irish Rose, and Look Through My Eyes are in dire need of their author/coauthors. I really want to get back to writing with my coauthors. Maybe we’ll go on a massive writing spree over the summer and be punching out three parts a day again (not that we were really writing that much to begin with, but it felt like it). Maybe, maybe not. One can dream. For the moment, ISC stays where it is. Which may be a good thing, because one cannot rush random awesomeness without severe repercussions.

Ok, I’m calling it a night.

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.

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.