Etiquette {AAWC Challenge #1}

Let me preface by saying that I had completely forgotten about this challenge until Zielle posted about it and I saw my name in Team Forest.

Let me also say that I didn’t really care for these particular prompts, so I sort of just winged it. (Wung it?)

But let me finally say that I love what came out of this.

Here is my newest short story Etiquette. Enjoy.


I shoved my hands in the pockets of my tailcoat, even though I knew it looked odd. But it wasn’t like like I cared. I had wanted to stay home tonight. I had wanted to continue with my enthralling study on fourteenth-century architecture. In fact, about the last thing I had wanted to do was to get dressed up and go socialize.

But Robin, in that that annoyingly enthusiastic way of his, had promised the host that I’d be there – to “get a bit of air and exercise his smile”, he’d said. And when I’d loudly protested, he’d grinned, like he was enjoying it.

“I’ll be sick that day!” I had threatened.

“I’ll call up the doctor. He can give you a placebo,” was his wry reply.

I sulkily leaned against the pillar behind me. Well, he could make me come, but he couldn’t make me be happy about it.

I caught sight of the top of his head in the sea of people before me. It was unmistakable. He was very ginger, and his hair was pushed up in the front – he had a habit of running his fingers through it when agitated. He was weaving through the crowd, dodging servants with trays of prawns and champagne and trying not to step on anyone’s toes.

Finally, he broke through the crowd. I pretended I hadn’t seen him, because the look on his face was unmistakable. He was coming to chew me up about being a wallflower, and I was going to have to expend some effort and tell him he couldn’t force me to do anything.

He stopped just a few feet from me. “Come on, Ned, I didn’t bring you here so you could sit over here and pout.”

“Well, that’s what I’m doing,” I replied. “Any questions?”

He shook his head, smiling a bit. “I just can’t imagine how you could prefer doing nothing to Yuletide.”

I was actually thinking over intelligent topics, but I decided not to test my luck. “Your cravat is crooked,” I said critically.

“Yours would be too if you were having any fun.”

I shrugged. “Maybe your idea of fun. I’d rather be doing something intellectually enriching.”

“I’ll choose to not be offended by that.” He chuckled. “But come on, the only other person sitting out is Dr. Matterhorn over there.”

“It’s because he’s smart.”

“It’s because he’s a sociophobe,” he whispered, smiling grinchily. “Bring honor to our name and be a bit less reclusive, for heaven’s sake.”

“I’ll do what I want, thank you.”

For a moment, I thought that rebuff was going to work. He stood there and looked at me for at least ten seconds. Then I saw the naughty idea twinkle in his blue eyes.

He took me by the shoulders and turned me round to face the party. There were people I knew, people I didn’t know, people I recalled seeing but couldn’t think where. I felt him grab my upper arm. His hand could almost go the whole way round it.

“Well,” he said as he started to drag me along, “if you won’t come on your own, I suppose I can lend a hand.”

“Let go of me,” I replied, trying not to make a scene. But he kept striding on, nearly pulling me out of my shoes at times. Finally, he let go of my arm. I pulled away, brushed my sleeve off. How embarrassing.

Robin smiled amiably. “Social interaction, courtesy of big brother. If I catch you back on that wall I’ll make you dance. Understand?”

I crossed my arms. “I’m not promising anything.”

He shrugged. “You’d best find a lady you like, then.”

At least he left me alone after that. I began to think of ways I could get out of this situation. Though I may not have been able to confront Robin physically, I definitely could outwit him. Or so I thought.

I must have looked quite odd. Here I was, standing in the middle of a Christmas party, staring down at my shoes with a face of inner turmoil.

“Heart been broken again?”

I turned around. A man was standing behind me, speaking from behind a furry mustache. He was short, stout and was wearing spats. He had his head back and was dangling a prawn over his open mouth. I furrowed my brow and just looked at him askance.

“It happens to the best of us, son. ‘Many a head will rest on pillows wet with tears as prejudice and fear mar the perfect world that spins about our ears.'”

There were many things I could have said that would have sent him packing. But I was curious now, though desperate not to let him know that. I’d learned that people like him thrive on people’s curiosity and disbelief.

“Beg pardon?” I said.

“It’s by Kaiser. Good, isn’t it? But it doesn’t detract from he situation you’ve found yourself in.”

“What situation?”

He looked at me like I was daft. “Why, your pickle, is there any other?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “You love her deeply, just pining away, but when you work up enough courage to tell her that, she rejects you.”


“You, silly!”

“No, no, I’m rejected by whom?”

He adjusted the bluish crystal monocle in his left eye. “Why, I don’t know. I’m not a gipsy fortune-teller. Be a good boy and tell me, won’t you?”

Some people. “Firstly, I’m not a boy. I’m nearly twenty as it is. Secondly, I’m currently pining away for no one.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be either if she had done the same to me.”

“No, no, I never was.”

He chuckled, patting his belt line. He wore his trousers very high, so that was about right at his navel. Or so I estimated. “Come now, son, don’t be prickly. I do understand that this is a difficult time in your life, but I assure you, you’ll weather through it. You’ll come out on the other side wizened, but -”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He stopped, his mouth still open, then closed it like a spectacle case. “It’s rather rude to stop a man from sharing his words, don’t you think?”

“I prefer not to play by the rules of society, if you please.”

“Aha, so you’re a rebel, are you?”

I didn’t want to explain. There wasn’t any way to speak my mind without offending him. My actual position in the matter? Parties are pointless and are basically cesspools of people like this man – people who won’t leave you alone. But at last he found a new victim to heckle, and sauntered off, seizing a cup of punch from a tray as it passed over his head.

Sighing audibly with relief, I tried to remember where my train of thought had been before he’d derailed it. Ah, yes. I was plotting escape. In all this mess, it shouldn’t be too hard to slip off when no one was watching, to retreat in a cab to my lovely study with its bright fire and claustrophobic bookcases. So where was the exit?

I craned my neck, trying to see above the hubbub I was within. The room was very large – it had a balcony skirting the walls that was supported by thick columns of white granite. I suppose the architect put it in just so the people like me could have a birds-eye view of the frivolities below. Between two of these pillars, I remembered there being a set of gilded double doors, which we had come in through.

A glint of gold caught my eye. One of these doors had been opened – by a certain man with orange hair pushed up in the front. Once he’d closed it again, he picked up his glass where he’d set it down and leaned against the jamb.

Well, so much for that. I wondered whether he’d done it on purpose or not. It could go either way. But there had to be another exit. Wasn’t that required by the fire marshal or something? I turned around to inspect the walls – and nearly ran over a lady in a white organza gown.

It is one thing to be rude to a nosy old man or a pushy brother. But I would have had to have no soul to tell a lady she was in my way, particularly when she hadn’t directly annoyed me yet. That’s the troubling thing with ladies – they lack self-confidence, so if anyone tells them to go away, they take it personally. Perhaps I did spend too much time in my study, but I had read an ettiquette book or two.

“Excuse me,” I said apologetically. Or, rather, as apologetically as I could manage.

She chuckled. “No trouble, no trouble.”

We looked at each other for a moment.

“You look distressed,” she said. Was it that apparent? “Is there something wrong?”

Composure, Ned, composure. “Not horribly. I’m just looking forward to getting back to my study, that’s all.”

She considered that for a bit. “You read a great deal, then?”

I nodded. “You can’t change much about yourself, but you can improve your intellect.”

“Intriguing,” she said, the word coming awkwardly off her tongue. It was evident that she’d been waiting for a chance to use it. “Are you attending a university?”

“Hopefully, I will be soon. Until then, I’ll learn as much as I can on my own.”

We were silent for a bit.

“What brings you to the ball, then?” she asked, cocking her head.

“Peer pressure.” I caught sight of Robin, now occupying a clearing in a forest of people. He seemed to be giving a speech of sort, perhaps telling one of his stories. The room was too large for me to tell which it was. “I’d much rather have spent tonight at home.”

That comment slipped out without my realizing it. I instantly regretted it. Maybe I hadn’t read as many ettiquette books as I should have. You don’t tell people you wish you were elsewhere while at a ball; rather, you’re supposed to give the impression that you are having the time of your life, even if it’s not true. That’s the other thing about party manners – you have to say a lot of things that aren’t expressly realistic, just to save your face.

I worked up enough courage to glance over at her. She was looking at me. I looked away. Yes, she had heard me, but she wasn’t affronted. In fact, she looked…curious?

“You certainly have no problems saying what’s on your mind,” she finally said.

Oh, this was embarassing. “It’s a symptom of solitude, I’m afraid. I apologize.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she chuckled. “It is nice to know that there’s someone here who says the truth.” She didn’t say it with a trite tone and genteel manners. There was a spicy tone to her voice, like she had been lied to, perhaps indirectly.

“If I can be so bold as to make a hypothesis, I’d say we’re agreed on the subject of parties.”

“I’m not exactly enchanted by them, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

We looked at eachother significantly. She laughed. Without really realizing it, we began to walk together, just observing our surroundings in eachother’s company.

“I suppose it’s a nice change of scenery,” she said, gesturing toward a garland of holly curled around the railing of the staircase.

“It’s a prison cell,” I muttered.


“Nothing.” We moved closer toward the railing, shoulders touching as a woman in a very large skirt passed us. “I was being sarcastic.”

We were up on the mezzanine now. She leaned on the banister, staring down at the swirling colours of silk and satin blooming over the dancing floor.

“It’s not the idea itself that bothers me,” she regressed. “In fact, I think it’s a rather nice idea, to all come together and pass an evening over champagne.”

I looked over at her. A strand of her dark hair had fallen out of the bundle on the nape of her neck. Now it trailed down, curling slightly, past a white tea rose she had placed behind her ear.

“Then what keeps you up here with someone as anti-social as me?”

She tore her gaze from the dancers and looked me straight in the eyes. “You’re the first person I’ve met who’s honest with himself.”

Both she and I knew that it was terribly rude at a ball to spend all one’s time with just one person. But neither of us were too concerned with manners that night. It was all a show, anyways. I found myself regretful to leave, strangely enough. It wasn’t because of the other people, though. I had finally found someone who thought roughly the same way that I did, and now that I had made that connection, I almost didn’t want to go back to being a solitary creature in a study.

Perhaps my solitude had always been because I’d never found anyone who saw society the way I did.

The moment I had been looking forward to before hit me with an undertone of sorrow.

“Goodnight,” I bid her politely. “And a happy new year.”

“The same to you. They say two hundred books are published every day, so that means you should have read…” She calculated. “Seventy-three thousand by the time we cross paths again?”

“Let’s hope it’s fewer.”

She chuckled.

“Goodnight, Mister…”

“Edward Glasscock.”

“Mister Glasscock.” She pressed something into my hand as her father, who had chaperoned her, waited with her cloak.

I closed my fist around it, tipping my hat. “And goodnight, Miss -”

“Blair,” she called over her shoulder as they climbed into their cab. “Millicent Blair.”

The coach’s door closed as she pulled her white organza skirt out of its jaws. I didn’t realize it (or perhaps I didn’t care), but I stood there and watched it leave, the horses’ feet clopping on the cobblestones and echoing off into the night. Many others passed in front of me, between the double doors and away in other coaches. Finally, I looked into my hand.

On the scrap of paper torn from who-knows-where, she had written an address in very nice letters.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped, shoving it into my breast pocket. Robin was standing behind me, the look on his face spelling triumph.

“What are you so joyous about?” I asked, turning to face him.

“Oh, nothing. I’ve just got this proud feeling inside me that my efforts paid off.”

He laughed. I sighed in annoyance, even defeat.

“Don’t expect it to happen again.”


I realize this was really long, clocking in at almost 2500 words. So I apologize.

Trivia: Ned and Robin were the main characters of my 2017 Camp Nano novel Brother Robin. Next challenge will feature some more Nano characters – fun!

I only used one prompt. Can we please not use the ridiculous mistletoe one anymore? I kept on trying to think of ways to use it that weren’t repulsive to me, but I couldn’t think of any. And obviously, because of the Victorian setting, I didn’t use the pickup truck. Though I did like the photo.

I also mentioned my Team Name (I caught sight of Robin, now occupying a clearing in a forest of people.) 

So 1 point for participation + 1 point for the prompt + 1 point for mentioning my team name = 3 total points.

Sayonara for now – Go Team Forest!



Thirty Gifs for Thirty Days

There was not a day I was actually on par for all of Nanowrimo. And because of this, I had a load of work at the end greater than or equal to the mass of Mount Everest.

But you’re not here to hear me complain about how awful and busy November was. You’re here for gifs. So let me introduce….

Thirty Gifs for Thirty Days

(Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don’t have the sources for any of these. They just come out of my personal collection, gifs I’ve found and saved, or made myself. Don’t kill me plz I’m not trying to copy, just entertain ;))
(Disclaimer II: Wordcounts per day based on a 12am-12am basis. Sometimes I stopped to sleep :D)

Day One


I had good intentions, but here, at the beginning, I made the mistake of saying I had twenty-nine days left to get caught up. But the words I wrote this day were just gorgeous, so I wanted to stop while I was still writing good stuff.

Words written: 643

Day Two


Realizing that I hadn’t written very much yesterday, I made the plunge and was fairly productive.

Words written: 1957

Day Three


I threw that resolve out the window on Friday, though. I guess I got busy, or distracted, or just didn’t.

Words written: 0

Day Four


And then there was my Sabbath. I didn’t even give Nano a thought. Which was a good thing. We are commanded to relax on the Sabbath day, so by not stressing, I was doing good, right?

Words written: 0

Day Five


Welcome back to reality. I made a valiant effort to catch up before it got over my head. And though I didn’t get fully caught up, I made a huge dent in it.

Words written: 2588

Day Six


I tried to make the same dent I had the day before. Haha, nope, not happening. But oh well, I still had time, right?

Words written: 849

Day Seven


Just another less-than-productive day passing through. But I was proud of the words so I didn’t exactly care.

Words written: 615

Day Eight


This was the day I told myself, “If you write 1667 every day for the rest of Nano, you won’t be so behind, right?” So I wrote the required amount, even though I really knew that I was slowly getting behind. My chances of winning had gone from an 80% to a 75%.

Words written: 1798

Day Nine


Wrote casually. Yeah, almost just like that. PUSHEEN

Words written: 933

Day Ten


This was the Nigel day, the sorry excuse for an effort day, the least amount of words written (besides the days I wrote nothing). The awkward day. The day I started to realize that I was behind and had no idea where I was going with my story.

Words written: 108

Day Eleven


The realization that this was one of the least productive nanos I’d ever done hit me the second Saturday. I was away for the weekend, relaxing, but then I remembered: oh man Nano. I went to sleep thinking about how much I’d have to write and told myself I was going to do this thing, get caught up. I wasn’t too far behind. Yet.

Words written: 0

Day Twelve


Nope. I was traveling home. I tried to plan out the rest of my novel, but ended up drawing wolves instead. When I got home, I looked at the website.

Par: 20,000 words!
You’ve written: 9,491 words!

It was enough to send me to bed shivering. But I resolved – I’m going to really do it this time.

Words written: 0

Day Thirteen


I should have been writing. I really should have. But I remembered this fateful day that I had signed up for a Multi-Animator Project and my part was due January 23rd. And I hadn’t even started. So I half-wrote and half-animated, too excited about my animation success to deal with my nano failure.

Words written: 1045

Day Fourteen


I did really good that day. Coming to face the dragon of Nano, armed with nothing but a keyboard, I wrote ala Flint Lockwood nearly all day.

Words written: 2565

Day Fifteen


Congratulations, Tess. You did averagely. You didn’t do any more or any less. Yipee.

Words written: 1475

Day Sixteen


I gave myself a pep talk that day. Tomorrow, you are going to write like crazy, so you can spend your weekend in peace. Once you came out of the weekend, you are going to write like even more crazy and get caught up. Got it? Okay. Weekend in peace.

Words written: 1439

Day Seventeen


I tried to try. That’s all I can say. But that trying to try was not enough.

Words written: 0

Day Eighteen


I love Saturdays. Hakuna matata, folks, cuz I took my God-given day of rest and did not even rest my thoughts on Nano.

Words written: 0

Day Nineteen


Did I seriously just do what I set out to do? Did I seriously make an effort to get caught up? Was that effort actually something worthwhile?

I surprised myself with my productivity.

Words written: 5162

Day Twenty


On its own, this day would have been pretty good. Not stellar, but pretty good. But after the first 5k day, it was…awkward. Yee.

Words written: 1846

Day Twenty-One


This was the day where it wasn’t just my wordcount that was bad. It was the day where I could not word to save my life. The end result was worse than a kazoo. Yeah, these scenes aren’t going into the rewrite.

Words written: 1479

Day Twenty-Two


Par: 36,666 words.
Wordcount: 25,000 words.

Reaching the halfway point should be an invigorating experience, and it usually is. But it’s extremely depressing when you have eight days left and you just got there. I made a great resolve to write like a whirlwind, a stand mixer, and Spinjitsu all combined. But then I remembered….I’m going to my grandparent’s tomorrow for Thanksgiving….oh no.

Words written: 498

Day Twenty-Three


Actual footage of me at my grandparents’ house, trying not to think of all the words I should be writing.

Words written: 0

Day Twenty-Four


I wanted to get back earlier on Friday, so that I’d have some time to write before the Sabbath. But between all the stops we made, we got back too late and I hid my disappoinment and shame.

One of those stops was at a river. I love to wade in rivers – something about the water rushing over my feet and yeah. I made the mistake of walking in the water that was not moving, the water on the edge. And in trying to catch minnows, I got – wait for it – actual leeches on my feet.

That was the most disgusting thing I think I’ve ever seen. Fortunately, my dad helped me brush them off. They were little and orange and acutally sucking my blood. Disgusting.

I told my mom when I got home, and she almost lost it.

How did I get talking about this? The point is that I was too busy getting my blood sucked out of me to write. 😉

Words written: 0

Day Twenty-Five


Yup, that’s right, I am going to cry. I checked the site Saturday night and lost it.

Par: 41,666
Wordcount: Still 25k 😛

This was not good. At all.

Words written: 0

Day Twenty-Six


I made good effort to get caught up, but yeah, it felt like I was waking up after seventy years of cryo.

Words written: 2435

Day Twenty-Seven


And then I got it. I should have gotten into this groove days ago, weeks ago. I cracked down on myself and wrote like something otherworldly.

Words written: 7595

Yup, you read that correctly.

Day Twenty-Eight


Hours of sleep for an average teenager for four days: 36
Hours of sleep I had gotten in four days: 20.

That’s a little over half the amount of sleep I needed.

Words written: 1358

Day Twenty-Nine


I had so many words to write by now, I didn’t care what I was writing about. Spend sixty words talking about the joy of smashing an ugly lamp? Totally okay. Use up 400 words on feeder freezer mice for pet snakes? Yup. And yes, these are all actual wordcounts on actual things I wrote about.

Words written: 5612

Day Thirty


I had to do it. There was no choice. I had twenty-four hours to write eight THOUSAND words. Let me put that in perspective.

If one word equalled one mile, I needed to walk from France to South Africa.

If one word equalled one hour, the time would equal almost a year. (333 days)

If one word equalled one calorie, I needed to eat a Family Meal (16 chicken tenders, eight biscuits, and a pint each of rice, coleslaw and mac n’ cheese) from Popeyes.

If one word equalled one dollar, and I made the average wage of an American woman, I would need to work 57 days.

If one word equalled one pound, the words I  had to write equalled the weight of a large hippopotamus.

But I walked those miles. Spent those hours. Ate those calories. Made those dollars. Coaxed that hippo onto the scale.



And with that,

at 11:30 last night,

I finished Nanowrimo.

How did your Nano go? Did you win or lose? What’s your record for words in a day?

Seeking sleep and respite from my Writerapp,



Excuses are reasons for not blogging for an entire month in disguise! (gif post)

Table of contents:

  1. Talk of life
    1. School
    2. MAPS
    3. Nano
  2. October Goals
    1. Complete/Incomplete
  3. November Goals


When I was still in sixth grade, I thought high school would be an amazing, epic adventure with a bunch of new stuff to learn. Now that I’m pretty deep in it, I’m finding out that it’s an amazing, epic adventure with a bunch of new stuff to learn and a truckload of homework.

(My brother’s like, “Where did you get the idea that it would be fun?”)

Every morning, I wake up and take about an hour to do what I want to do. Then I get cracking on my schoolwork.

From left to right: History, Government, Economics

I am literally crazy for attempting all three of these courses this semester. But it has been fun. In fact, they all seem to kind of blend together. Kind of like a three-headed monster named Histgovecon (hist-GUV-ee-con).

And while I do this, I will be animating something actually real….I’M IN A MAP GUYS ASDFGHJKL THIS IS IT REAL DEAL AAAAAAA.


Ahem. A Multi-Animator-Project, or M.A.P., is an event where lots of animators get together, and animate little ‘parts’. Once strung together, they make a full video (in this case a music video). And I have twelve seconds to animate. Which is much much much harder than it looks.

And then, there is the all-important thing all of us will be doing this November


Yup, I’m doing a full 50k. And it will be tough, as always.

IDK why I put this one in. I don’t even watch Muppets. Maybe it was the donuts.

If you have been following me for a little while, you will note that I started a little club. Go join! We will rock this Nano!

So, between Histgovecon, MAPs and Nano, I’m going to be really busy this November.


1. Write an “October Goals” post. Done! That was so easy LOL
2. Make that post a GIF post. Done! Hehe this one was so easy too.
3. Finish planning my Nanowrimo novel. Half-done. I kinda know what I’m doing but there’s this one part I need to find out what’s going on. In like, two days. :O
4. Get going in animation. Done! I got Cedric and Flash MX2004.
5. Word War with Ava Half-done. We worked on it tho.
6. Get a Wreck This Journal. Done! I bought one and started doing stuff in it.
7. Finish all the books I need to read for school. Half-done. I’m about halfway through all of them. Makes sense right?
8. Learn some new jokes. Done! Here’s an example: What did the pirate say when he put his wooden leg in the freezer?  Shiver me timbers!
9. Write out all the posts that I’ve been meaning to post for a long time. Umm…Not done. I still have five unpublished drafts.
10. Fufill all these goals. Half-done. 7/10 complete.



Yeah, I’m feeling like this right now:


So really, I won’t be blogging, neither here nor on SSD, for all of November. Something has to give.

I’m sure when I come back it’ll be like this:

“What have they been doing while I was gone?”

See you in a month!



Hear ye, hear ye!

It has come to my attention that we need some kind of camraderie this November. In only nine days, several of us will be slaving away in the trenches, trying to write something worth reading, or maybe just trying to write to our goal.

It is with this in mind that I am proud to present…

The WordPress Authoresses

Yes, I have begun a little club, and yes, it is open to the public! (That is, the public who is doing Nanowrimo, but that pretty much is all of you guys. :P) This club’s purpose is to promote friendship and fun during Nanowrimo and provide an outlet other than blogging to share your achievements. And yes, there are special perks, including….

  • access to a free online chat room set up specifically for club members
  • a welcome package designed by moi
  • for winners and non-winners alike, a certificate of participation designed, again, by moi
  • and the friendship, laughs and inside jokes that accompany these sorts of things.

The last day to sign up is October 30th, 2017. On October 31st, I’ll send out your welcome email with the goodies and chat room link. And on November 1st? We’ll begin writing in the company of eachother!

Click here to sign up (link opens in a new tab). I can’t wait to get started!

See you in the club,



AG Create-Your-Own: Nanowrimo Edition

I had no idea whether to put this on my doll blog or here on Steeplechase, but I decided that since it involved the characters of my past Nanowrimos, I should post it here.

Anyways, today I’ll be trying to duplicate some of my past Nanowrimo characters (and probably ranting about them in the process ;)) with the AG Create-Your-Own maker. Enjoy.

Sybil Glasscock
A Falcon Of Gold, 2015 (40k)


Ahh, Sybil, you extremely pessimistic bean, your clothes are completely period innacurate but they’re more to reflect your character than your actual costume. I apologize for shipping you at the last minute. That was unfair.

(Sybil was part islander and part English. But the islander was more dominant. She was a really big jerk though.)

Kat McKittrick
A Charger In Command, 2016 (50k)


(The picture size changed for some reason. Sorry for triggering your severe OCD.)

Kat was a more sedate Sybil. Maybe it was the horses; maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t an orphan. (There are really too many orphans in today’s literary world.) Whatever it was, she was more stable. But I shipped her at the last minute too. *ducks as people throw tomatoes*.

I’m fine with shipping characters, it’s just when it’s last minute that makes it bad. Instantly.

Kaori Sasaki (sound familiar?)
The Taiso Senshu, 2017 (15k)


It was after I wrote Kaori’s story in April that I realized that I wrote almost exclusively about dark-haired, pessimistic girls. Nevertheless, she was my favourite out of the three, only because she was Japanese and Japan is awesome. (Well, because I didn’t want to do any research, I made it a Japan-like society called Pseudo-Japan in my notes. I’m lazy.)

(So much from her story was borrowed for my doll stories, so I can’t share much more. :P)

Millicent Blair
Brother Robin, 2017 (50k)


Millicent, you refreshing change to the norm! It’s a pity you were an underexplored side character. At least the MC of Brother Robin was a light-haired, blue-eyed British man. He was still pessimistic though. Maybe you’ll be a good influence for him. As I did ship the two of you. (sorrynotsorry).

Honorable mentions, also from Brother Robin:

And one more honorable mention: Kseniya, a she-wolf, from my novel in preparation about canine culture, reimagined as a human.

“Where are my ears?”

And finally, from my upcoming story for Nanowrimo 2017…

Sasha Sokolovsky
Project Orion (50k)


Part Russian. Part naïve. All nerd. I’m going to have so much with you this November, despite that you’re only a side character!

Time for…


The answer to this question is the password to the Secrets page, which holds a bonus picture for you to enjoy! (It will be all lowercase.)

What is the ship name of my OTP?
(hint: it’s in a caption)

What kinds of characters do you tend to write about? Do they all follow a pattern or are they different? Are you going to do this on your blog? If you are, then link it back and I’ll read it!





Winner, winner, chicken dinner (and review of my cake batter)

Ha. I knew the title would catch your eye. Doesn’t food always catch the eyes of humans? But this post has nothing to do with food. It’s about a lame achievement I made this April.


Now, you must play the fanfare I won for winning Camp.

Well, no one awarded it to me but myself, but I think I deserve it, right? I wrote fifteen thousand words. The track is seventeen seconds long. That’s about eight hundred eighty-two words per second.

(Off-topic: I could listen to the Lego Universe Soundtrack for hours and never grow tired of it. The mix of brass and violins and interesting percussion is so intriguing, and the feeling I get when I listen to them is nothing short of an adrenaline rush. They have been my life soundtrack for a year or so now and I’m not growing cold on them. Brian Tyler is awesome! Here’s the link to the entire soundtrack via Youtube: Link! My personal favourites are Rocket Escape, Battlegrounds, Monument Race, Blastoff, Nimbus Plaza, Nimbus Station, Red Blocks, Pet Cove, General Forestry, Forbidden Valley, Ninjago Monastery, and Battle Against Frakjaw, which I have linked for your convenience. You can thank my brother Mac for this discourse, because he was the one who got me hooked on this.)

So, my Camp project. It was an idea made up a couple of weeks days hours before camp started. I wanted to write a story about feudal Japan, but it would have bugged me if it were inaccurate. But I didn’t want to go and do a bunch of research on feudal Japan. So I just infused Japanese culture into somewhere that I never expressly mentioned was Japan, I’d be good, right?

Bam. The Taiso Senshu was born. And it probably won’t make a bit of sense because I sprinkled too many Japanese words in it. So many that I’m not even going to bother identifying them for you. Now is a good time to practice your context clues. 😛

The story’s track was different when I began writing it than when I finished it. When I began, I was writing a story about Kaori Sasaki. She was the niece of the main taiso kyoshi and thus steeped in taiso since birth, practically. But the only other female senshu wasn’t a very shining example. She had one chance to prove herself to the other senshu or else she’d have Hanoka Norman’s fate.

As much as I liked that story, the story I finished with went something like this:

Akio Hayashi was trained from birth to infiltrate the taiso senshu and give the Farukon the information leading to their fate. He was supposed to not say a word, to avoid camraderie with the enemy. Yet, in an accident, he breaks his vow of silence by accident, and strikes up an unlikely alliance with Kaori, the only senshu he deems worthy of his time. (Akio has an extreme superiority complex.) But now he’s got a problem – stay loyal to the Farukon, or stay loyal to the senshu?

It’s a lot better reading it, I promise. There were several things I needed to fix, though, and here’s a long to-do list of those things.

  • Change the setting slightly
  • Focus the plot
  • Re-do the POV from an all-Kaori to a half-Akio, half-Kaori
  • Change the details I ended up changing

I’d give The Taiso Senshu a 3.9/10 right now. Maybe once I’ve baked my cake batter, it’ll taste better. (See what I did there?)

Did you win Camp? How many words did you write?




That’s right.

50,000 words.

30 days.



I’m so proud of everyone who did NaNoWriMo or who is fixing to win. Remember, this isn’t the end of the writing journey. There’s still of of the next year until NaNoWriMo hits again!

Good job!



The Typewriter Symphony {day 3}

Don’t I wish I had a typewriter. Then I could make symphonies like this.

I figured this video was just in time for Nanowrimo.

Here’s my favourite sentence for today:

The day dawned cold and cloudy, with a fine drizzle to damp down spirits.

I’m 6,000 words along so far!

What do you think?

Yours truly,



Gray days? In Midland? {day 2}


Today is officially the second day of Nanowrimo. It is also an actually overcast day here in the desert! Thrilling! I love gray weather. It reminds me of London (one of the places I’m going to when I get the chance).

Let me tell you, it’s easy while you’re peppy on the first day to sit down and write a million words. But on the second day, it’s a bumload harder. If you wrote equal to or more words than you did yesterday, you win just smashingly! If you wrote less than yesterday, you still win, just not as much. And if you didn’t write at all, go write. Write now! NOW!

A couple days before Nanowrimo started, I got a fortune cookie. It read:

Panda Express – Panda Inn

Word for word. #truestory

So that little slip of paper is sitting on my bulletin board right now, beckoning me to stay creative. (Along with my amazing amateur art drawing from a couple days ago, my number from my horse show, and a bunch of other random stuff.)

And here is my fave paragraph today:

Thunder watched him. His eyes were fully closed now. His mouth was brought down in a subtle frown, his topline level, his tail still. He was breathing shallowly, like he was asleep, but every now and then his ears would follow the sounds in the stable, especially when Okie hiccuped. Then they’d dart in that direction.

Remember, I’m on Nanowrimo as blackiesunshine315. Find me!

Yours truly,




It’s here… {Day 1}


It’s time to shine, writers. Let’s rock this November with so many words, your eyeballs will bug out.


Here’s an excerpt from day 1:

“I really like jokes, Thumper. Just yesterday, Bandit, he’s mean, that guy is, told me I was a joke. And everyone started laughing. I don’t know why. Am I really that funny?”

“No, you’re dignified enough.”

“Shoot.” Okie frowned. “I thought I was funny.”

I’m planning on giving a sebtence or two that I’ve liked every day. Maybe they’ll be inspiration…?

What are your word-count goals this year? I’m not on the YWP anymore, so I can’t look you guys up, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be Nanobuddies here!

Thumbs up to Clara and Lexie for trying the real deal!

Hoping I’ll stay this enthusiastic (and hoping my going out of town this Thanksgiving won’t hose my goals over),