A New View

I think Mondays are truly special. After a challenging, or relaxing weekend, you get to come back to school and learn and see your friends again. It's the beginning of the week, and the beginning of change. Maybe that's why so many people hate the day . . . (if you don't see my reasoning then go ask someone smart :P)

Anyways, today, I have to say, was one of those days. I watched a science experiment that made a visible tornado with dry ice (dipped in water and poured in) with Bryce leaning on my desk (it wasn't until afterwards I realized how hard my heart was pounding and how heavily I was breathing by his closeness, which I don't get since he's always closer in band . . .), I stole someone's homework (on accident, of course, but I'm proud ;) ), I actually ate all three meals, I tried some healthy brownies that gave me a stomach ache, I openly talked about Bryce with a few people, I annoyed Bryce by reading his texts over his shoulder during band (seriously, I didn't read anything but his sig thing and who he was texting though), and sat in the back row in choir. Not too many new things, but new enough.

Most of those things are about Bryce. Dang it. I'm not supposed to be obsessed. Did you know I have his whole schedule plotted out even though I only actually have two classes with him? XD

Okay, enough teasing. OH I FORGOT! I also did not straighten my hair or apply eye make-up. I was so proud ^.^

Also, I think science is the most screwed up thing in the universe. Biology the most, though, medical stuff coming close in second. It's not the diseases and crap, though, it's the cruel heartless stuff they do to frogs and even people (but especially frogs).

Yeah, I'm pretty pathetic. Get over it.

*sing-song voice* Anyways, I have a dress to go get on for pictures for my friends (it's for the dance), so ta-ta for now! Please enjoy yourself until we meet again.

Secrets and Jessamine

There are times when I wish I didn't have so many secrets. Because once you're at your limit of secrets, one is going to be spilled, and you're not gonna like it. And then there are those ones, that everyone knows about, but then someone doesn't and you have to repeat it for the billionth time. By that point, the 'secret' becomes pointless, and loses its fire, which had been kindling as soon as you realized it. Sometimes, secret telling can eventually cause the secret to become untrue.

I have no examples I feel like supplying today, but the paragraph above is a really good way to describe 90% of my frustrations in life. Secret-telling. Secret-keeping. It washes me out, even more than sprinting with Kayla down the sides of a soccer field does. I wish it didn't.

I wonder if that's why my newest story is about secrets, secrets that can't be told, secrets that can be used against us, secrets that could have protected us, secrets that tear us apart.

I hate secrets. And so does Jessamine. Jessa is my main character in my story. She's darling, a pretty little 15-year-old, dreading her 16th birthday, when truth will shatter and she'll have to pick up the pieces, sorting the lies from reality. All the while fighting the destructive nature of her new wings . . .

Anyways, that's all I got for today. I'm thinking of posting an excerpt soon--so keep your eyes posted for it!

Random things about Jessamine:

1. She is the middle child of three girls, all cleverly named with the beginning of J.
2. Older sister is named Jocelyn.
3. Younger is Jazmin.
4. In order from oldest to youngest, their nicknames are Jocy, Jessa, and Jazz.
5. Jessamine has blonde hair.
6. She sees her father only every five months, when he comes back from the airforce.
7. She is adopted, but her other sisters are biologically related.
8. She has a nightmare every single night, and it happens to be about wings.

Some Good Reads

I feel sorta weird. In the last few weeks, I've done it all: Lost/Won soccer games, had good or bad practices, didn't make the dance team, do homework, skip it, go dancing at the grange, go camping, babysit kids and figure how bad I am at it, I've fought with friends, got my crush to talk to me, have my little brother lose his tooth, ect. But now that I look back on those things, I realize one thing: I haven't been posting.

I've been trying, so extra points there. It's just inspiration for something longer to post about wasn't coming. Right now, I'm in a time of high inspiration, though, so it's darn well time to get one of these out here. *Inhales slowly* Here we go.

In my life, it's actually been pretty boring, so we won't start there. Actually, I doubt we'll even reach the location today.

Instead, I'm going to start with books. As some of you know, I love to read. Fewer know that my two favorite series' are The Unearthly Series and The Vampire Academy Series (give or take on a few, plus Bloodlines). But I recently got my hands on a book called Entwined . . .

*coughi'mnotreallythebestjudgeofthiscough* And it was the most amazing book eva! (Ever, for you peoples who don't understand slang :P) I love the names (in alphabetical order, oldest to youngest, and all names on plants or flowers): Azalea (<--Main character), Bramble, Clover, Delphinium, Evening Primrose (Eve), Flora, Goldenrod, Hollyhock, Ivie, Jessamine, Kale, and Lily. All twelve sisters (this is the 12 dancing princesses, after all) are portrayed beautifully, each with their own striking personality. Overall, a magnificent tale with a great spin, and I would definitely recommend it to anyone, though if you don't like it don't come runnin' to me about it. That wouldn't end well, surely not . . .

Some would ask if I'd read the book again, but sadly, I'm not the rereading type anymore, so it might be hard. I do, however, agree that if I was still someone who read my books over and over, this would have the highest talies, though((:

I also read Angel, from the Maximum Ride series, and I'm glad this one wasn't as dim as the few before it. 'Cuz they were just . . . sad. No need to go further.

I'm also going to reread East, an excellent book I read as a fourth grader when my mom was inserting me into the young adult stuff (I told you I was advanced), but back then I didn't have the appreciation for it. Plus, when first starting my reading I was really a skim-the-details reader, so I honestly don't remember much other than the plotline. It'll be fun--That much I know :)

Well, I hope this post maybe gave you some insight on some amazing books (Sorry for the Angel one; It really was good! Just wish it held the perfectness in the first two...Well, the author has some time to make up for it I suppose for the finale, Nevermore) and that you all pick them out, and enjoy them! :)

According to my clock, it's been 5:58 for 5 poor minutes. AM. Well, technically, they were off two different clocks (one I set ahead so I get up a few minutes early and can sleep in using those few minutes, and the other is my laptop), but still. I thought it was an interesting fact for the early morning.

Next? Well, something surprising may be that I'm skipping the whole 8th grade. It'll certainly be fun--because it means I can go straight to high school next year. And the best is my smartness doesn't finish there--I'll be taking sophmore/junior classes WITH my now few freshmen classes. Also, with my special arrangment with that, and if I make it into dance team, I'll have an extra slot for Art or Journalism (still haven't decided which...). The sad thing is that I have, like, 6 core classes instead of a mere 4. 2 history, 1 science, 1 Language arts, and 2 Math (geometry and Algebra II). I'm doing good, aren't I?

Next piece of business...I finally got my laptop working, so I can finally reach my email and blog. Before I could get to like a single page, after waiting a while for it to load, but if I tried to go further it crashed. Hense, why it's been taking so long to post.

But as one flies in, another runs out. My phone also died the other day. Died died, like it won't turn on. We've yet to take it in, but we've tried everything. Stupid electronics...

~C~

Have you ever wondered...

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to win a prize from a famous author? Well, I'm feeling it. Sure, I only won a pair of earrings themed for Angela Corbett's books, but that's pretty darn cool. And it's certainly better than nothing. It's makes me feel like I'm one in a million, and they still picked ME.

...And of course that leads me to thinking about soulmates, and how out of the million other people out there, one person is gonna pick me. ME. The girl who sits on the couch all day tapping her long fingers lightly yet rhythmically against her laptop keyboard as she types beautiful writing and angry messages. The girl who might as well sit alone at lunch because she gets no pleasure with the group she hangs with, the girl who gets all A's in school, but somehow couldn't care less if you punched her in the nose. I mean, seriously?! Who's gonna go for a woman like that?

But, of course, against all odds, someone is gonna pick me, exactly for all those reasons I just named for someone to not like me. And I'll call him crazy as I reach for his hand and grasp his warmth for my own enjoyment, and watch as he smirks in amusement, and it'll all be perfect.

Short post. Enjoy!
C

Some old writing of mine . . .

So I was going through some old writing of mine, and came across this. I'm quite fond of it . . . so I'd thought I'd post it. Enjoy!

There was a loud rap on my window that woke me right up. It was light, basing off the little rays seeping through my curtains, which meant it was still day, and I wondered why in the world whoever was out there would be knocking on my window at this time, when it was even colder than usual.

            I hesitantly snuck across the room, carefully watching my step so I wouldn’t wake anyone, and slowly pulled the curtains aside. There stood Adrian, looking absolutely perfect as always, in a pair of long dark blue jeans, a black T-shirt shoved under a plaid green-and-black-and-white button-up vest, wonderfully fitted to his frame to make him appear thinner, and he wore his usual vans and accessories. There was a bright smile on his face, the whiteness of his teeth glistening off the light of the sun. I chuckled lightly at him, mentally congratulating him for getting onto my balcony for once, and opened the door for him to come in. He lifted me into the air, his hands on my waist, and twirled us around in a full circle.

            “Hey, guess what?!” He asked excitedly, but didn’t wait for me to give an answer. “I finally mastered my fire element and passed my final exam!!” He clapped his hands together happily, and I couldn’t help the swelling of my heart’s joyousness from this news.

            “Why, that’s magnificent!” I exclaimed, and he nodded, his face lighting up even more.

            “I’m so happy.” He declared to me, and wrapped my body in a firm hug. He started by teasingly nibbling my ear, but then his lips tenderly moved their way towards my mouth with extra care. His hands moved along my body and traveled to places they shouldn’t ever go to, with my clothes on or off. My hands gained a mind of their own in reaction to his, and started prying at the buttons of his vest, and his, as if realizing he had similar wants to mine, pulled my red cardigan up and over my head, breaking our kiss for the tiniest moment, but soon we had the same warm energy flowing between us once more. His vest and my cardigan were on the floor, and his black T-shirt soon joined it, along with my bra.

            Adrian’s hands cautiously moved over my bare skin, and he stared at me as if he were surprised of my beauty. He repeated the same words he had after our first kiss, both a prayer and a séance instead of a mere compliment.

            “You’re…You’re amazing.” He drew me closer, like a fisherman bringing in his catch. He was puffing hard, but once his hands were finished exploring the available bare skin, they trailed down to the button on my jeans, and he pulled them off with ease.

            Once all our clothes were tossed casually onto the floor, he pushed me back onto my bed and wrapped me in his warmth. I loved the both the feeling and the scent of his skin, an unusual cinnamon spice coating his normal musk. His kisses became greedier against my mouth, but they were pleasurable, and with each one my happiness was taken to a whole new level.

            From the moment he did it, I knew I wouldn’t have been satisfied if we had done it any other time. Fate had planned it to be today, and that’s exactly when I wanted it to be. No sooner, and no later.

            For the rest of the night (or day, if you want to be technical) he held me and whispered, “You’re amazing, little Moroi, so so amazing,” in between each kiss. Every time he did, I knew that little nickname had grown on me. If one day he came up to me and called me Alicia for the rest of our life together, I would be disappointed. Just like I would never be satisfied with anyone but Adrian being here with me, taking my virginity with the utmost care, and holding me as cautiously as he would with a new-born baby, but still with the blissful energy. I felt amazing and incredible and wonderful and marvelous and just fantastic.

           

            It was the best thing waking up at the end of the night and feeling him nested next to me. He had obviously woken up before me, because my head was in his lap, which was covered with the jeans he’d been wearing earlier (and was wearing again), and my blanket was covering my still naked body. His fingers were playing in my hair, tangling themselves into a tighter knot in the auburn strings, and he looked down fondly at my face, a pure smile on his face. When he watched my eyes flutter open, he smiled more, and untangled his fingers from my hair.

            “Hello beautiful,” he whispered, his voice coated with his love and tender affection for me. I returned his smile, and started to sit up, dragging the blanket with me to keep myself hidden beneath it. I tore my eyes away from Adrian’s flawless face, and let them wander around the room. Everything was as we’d left it, with his shirt and the rest of my clothes in a pile, and the curtains open, revealing a starry night sky. My gaze made it over to my alarm clock when my eyes widened, realizing I was late for my first two classes.

            Adrian’s hands caught my shoulder before I could bolt, and gently massaged the spot he had grabbed as he chuckled lightly. “It’s okay, little Moroi, I called the office while you were sleeping to tell them you weren’t feeling well enough to leave bed, so that’s where you’ll be staying for the rest of the day.” His words relaxed me, as did his touch, and I leaned back into his bare chest. He pressed something soft—his lips?—into my hair and slipped his arms around me and pulled me into his lap. “How are you feeling?” He asked nonchalantly, and I smirked at his casual question.

            “Absolutely perfect.”

Idk. I just really liked that scene. There was a certain perfectness in it that I've never caught anywhere else.

Btw, that was also last year's (2011) NaNoWriMo . . . Or at least a piece of it. Most elements of it were good, the setting, some people, the classes, but things like the main character and storyline were screwed. I honestly think my first-ever story had a better storyline--and that's saying something. Speaking of my first story ever--I've been thinking of rewriting that one if I ever get another story finished. It'd definitely be cool--with extra high chances of getting published with it's content . . .

Gifts of the People

I think everyone has a gift, a talent, a need to share themself with the world and let themself shine. For some, it is hard to meet their dreams, stealing as many years from time as they can to hone their gift, until the right moment comes and they are finally forced into making the star in theirself glimmer in the breathtaking spot light. For others, it comes differently. Some rush into it, sure of their dream from the moment they take their first breath. I'm a little like that, I suppose you might say.

As a young teenage writer, I know life has been kind to me. I have a room over my head, two supporting parents (when they aren't yelling at me because I did some wrong), ambition, and as much as I try to be modest about it, talent. I many elements in my life that make me who I am--which I haven't really figured out yet. My friends are always telling me what I am: caring, beautiful, fashionable . . . but I don't know how to believe that. Yet. I think someday, maybe someday, I just have to proove to myself that I am all those things, like I've already made them believe.

Anyways, when I was younger, I didn't have the luxury of writing like I do these days. I had music--I was singing before I could talk--and art. Creativity and imagination as a bonus. Maybe plop a romance in there that I didn't understand. I honestly thought I was going to be a famous singer like Taylor Swift someday. She was my superstar--my role model. But learning of her music is also what caused me to drift farther and farther from my at-home family, the seperation still remaining today. Not the point here. Moving on . . .

But as I said, I did have creativity and imagination, like most children. Like most of my friends, I was tagged in Talented and Gifted, and at recess we'd have live role plays where we'd love and fight bad guys. It was our life. Most of all, it was real.

Time skip, and we're in fifth grade. I've started my first book, inspired after being introduced to the realm of young adult books. I never did finish that book, but it was a good start. I can now see how that led into the development I have today.

Skip another year, and I'm being homeschooled online because I'm so smart the school couldn't keep up with me. I've started another book, having abandoned the other, and it takes me months to get 5,000 words before I finally get stuck and start another, playing with the greek gods like I'd always loved. I found the school NaNoWriMo club--a basic writer's club for anyone who wrote books. You didn't have to participate in the activity. You just had to write.

Anyways, the support of all the people in the club is what helped me finish that third book. Novella, if you wanna classify it correctly, but I'd never been so proud. 18,000 words in one book, and I was finished, already set up for sequel and gaining more skill and development with every word I wrote.

Fast forward to today, and I actually haven't finished another piece, unless you count the small novelette I did in January. But I do have good starts on every piece I have saved either on my jump drive or my computer--and I plan to finish something before the end of June. Before the end of the school year.

If there's one thing that I have learned from my journey of talent, it's that convincing the world you have talent is the easy part. Convincing yourself, and learning to stand on your own two feet is the hard part. I have myself pretty convinced--and I truthfully must say I have no doubts that I'll be published someday. That maybe one day--I'll be drinking coffee eww, no, not coffee, flavored water with Cynthia Hand and Richelle Mead getting ready for a tour or something because I'm a bestseller. Why a bestseller, when I'm supposedly so modest? It's not for the fame, I'll tell you that. It's to have touched someone's life--someone's heart--so deeply that they cried or laughed. That they felt for the characters.

Another thing: Don't deny yourself, your heart, from doing what it needs to. You'll become stronger just by leading yourself on the right path--and not letting anyone else choose for you. That's how you'll win. That's how everyone will win.

Love you <3
Cassandra Bloom, the someday bestselling author