Because I'm a Huge Nerd

In honor of Cassie Mae's book bloghop, we're here to celebrate!

The question posed for this blog hop is: What is the nerdiest thing about you?

It could possibly be that secretly, I'm a gamer. Recently my household has gotten a Sega system (which I played growing up), an Atari, and my Nintento DS's.

I aspire to soon own a Wii so I can play Just Dance whenever I want. (You can come play, too!)

I've spent many hours in front of the TV these last few weeks.

Outside of those things, I'm also obsessed with my dogs (I did the entire A to Z Challenge about Baxter), and I may or may not have a small obsession with The Hunger Games. (Which means, yes, I do have a Mockingjay pendant as well as a District 12 bracelet.)

I would love to also add that I'm a book junkie and laugh out loud at parts, and sit crying on my couch at 2 a.m. sometimes, but I feel like I'm not alone in this.

Getting To Know You

It's been awhile since I participated in a blog hop, and because of another author, I stumbled across the Getting To Know You blog hop, and I figured why not?

Getting To Know You Blog Hop

How do you remember your first kiss?

I was a little bit of what you'd call a mouth-slut as a small child. I chased boys on the playground, and if I caught them, their punishment was usually a kiss. When riding the bus home, I'd kiss boys under the seat. However, they were always pecks on the cheek (well, typically. I think in second or third grade, I graduated to lip kisses.)

As I got older, we began playing more intense rounds of Truth or Dare. I can't remember if I got dared, or if he got dared, but either way, we were dared to ::GASP:: french kiss! Soon enough, his mouth was on mine, and his tongue felt like licking a slug. We jerked away, and promptly went to the bathroom to brush our teeth and get each other's tastes out of our mouths. 

I waited a few years before trying again.

What was your first favorite love song?

Oh, wow. This is a hard one. I've always been surrounded by music, and I've always gone around liking and unliking songs. It's hard to remember my first (perhaps, Damn, I wish I was your lover? Because I got to sing the word "Damn" without getting in trouble?).

What's the first thing you do when you begin writing for the day?

Probably clean or organize something to avoid writing. Play on facebook, gmail. twitter pet the dogs, realize Baxter's ears need cleaned. When I sit down to write, I avoid it for at least another hour.

Who's the first writer who truly inspired you to become a writer?

Kerry Cohen and Zu Vincent, I think. I met them both at AWP. Kerry is the author of Loose Girl, and she is just so brave, and blunt, and amazing. She's not afraid of the mistakes she's made in her life. I was humbled just being in the room with her.
Zu (author of The Lucky Place) on the other hand has helped guide me through this crazy process. She read a few pages of a manuscript and told me to keep pressing on.

I know there have been TONS of other writers who have influenced and helped me, but those two rocked my world.

Did the final revision of your first book have the same first chapter it started with?

No way in hell. God, my first chapter was AWFUL. So bad in fact, I asked my sister to read/edit it for me, she got three pages in and emailed me saying, "Please, please don't make me read any more of this."

For your first book, which came first: major characters, plot, or setting?

Setting, I think. Sometime in the future. Then the main character, and the love interest. He was always there.

What's the first word you want to roll off the tip of someone's tongue when they think of your writing?

Epic.

  

Trapped in a Wormhole

Laura Eno, Luanne Smith, and Stephen Tremp put together this here National Wormhole Day blog hop posing the question, What would you do/where would you go if you could go through a wormhole, just once? (Answer in 100 words or less)

First off, I'd make sure Baxter could come. He doesn't like getting left behind. Secondly, we'd go adventuring off to the past. Probably high school. We'd sit back, and he'd get to meet some of my friends who passed away, and I'd get some refreshers for the gaps in my memory for my memoir.

What about you guys? Would you try to sneak anyone into the wormhole with you?

Spooktoberfest

And we have arrived at the Spooktoberfest blog hop. Five manditory words:

Jack-o-lanter

Ghost

Razor

Cauldron

Cobweb

One spooky less than 300 word flash fiction piece. 

So, here is mine:

The cobwebs hang from the bookcase like a sweater begging to be tried on. If they were fake, they’d be charming. Instead, their ghost-like wisps send shivers. I know this place is haunted. The jack-o-lanterns we’d carved when I was seven are still here, preserved like we’d done them yesterday, rather than years ago.

Taking a deep breath, I wander the house I’d lived in.

“We have to cook the seeds first! Otherwise the witches will come and put you in their cauldron and cook you for dinner!” My mother scolded.

“How would they find me?” I challenged, chomping away at the uncooked pumpkin seeds.

“The seeds give signals…”

I shake my head and push the image away. It wasn’t the witches that found us. It was my father.

Outside, a twig snaps. My bones freeze. I can’t breathe.

I beg the ghosts, “Please make me invisible, protect me.”

A breeze floats through the curtains, and the door bursts open. He’s here, wild, drunk.

I’m frozen, a statue to be shattered. There’s nowhere to hide.

His line of vision meets my eyes, but it’s like he’s looking through me. He stumbles through what used to be the living room, and I back myself against the counter, hands frantically pawing for anything to use. A cool razor blade, the kind you’d use to cut open a taped box with, finds its way into my hands. I step forward, toward the monster rather than freedom.

As I raise my hand to strike, the man trips, and falls. A small trickle of blood escapes his mouth. Please let him have hit his head hard enough to have brain damage, I pray again.

Beside his crumpled body, I drop my weapon and venture into the night.

Who says miracles don’t happen on Halloween?

Monsters

If you're here for the Letting Go Blog Hop, please don't hate me! It'll be posted Wednesday, I fell behind on all the blog hops I've signed up for! (Sorry!)

This week's portion of Express Yourself is the Top 5 Favorite Monsters

So, without getting in trouble for copyright issues, here are mine:

There are reasons I never went
to art school :)

5) Godzilla

When I was a kiddo I used to read the books. If I remember correctly, he was kind of always the hero, battling the bad monsters, and kicking their ass. 

Then in 1998, Hollywood released the movie. (Spoiler alert) There's a scene after they blow up Madison Square Garden, where all the little Godzilla baby bodies are strewn about. Godzilla sees them, and pushes on this with his/her nose, and wails because it's kiddos are dead. It's heart breaking. So of course, he/she goes on a rampage.

At the end, they trap Godzilla on the bridge, and shoot at him/her, and then he/she dies. Everyone cheered, but I didn't. It actually made me want to cry. All he/she wanted to do was live, and eat, and make babies, you know? And we (people) killed him/her.

4) King Kong

The same goes for King Kong. He was just really big, any maybe misunderstood. I thought the movie did an awesome job of why he fell in love with the girl, though, and I enjoyed the movie a lot. One of the things that really bugged me about this movie (and society in general) is that they were all, "Wow, we found this really huge thing, let's capture it, enclose it in a tiny habitat, and then shoot it when it goes crazy!" 

I don't like that ending. I'd like to see the monster win, at least once.

3) The Hulk

He's big. He's angry. He's green. He also likes to smash things and destroy stuff, so you know, it's pretty epic. PLUS most people don't run screaming, and, as far as I'm aware, no one is trying to kill him just for being alive.

2) All X-Men

Some are "monsters". Most are just plain Bad Ass.

1) Baxter

He may seem all cute, and sleepy, and cuddly. But his tail leaves bruises. If he's running at you, and you don't stand still, he can lay you out.

But you know, he is still kind of cute and cuddly :) Plus, he's my monster.

What are your favorite monsters through history?

Did I Notice Your Book?

Alex J Cavanaugh and Ciara Knight came up with this blog hop. Been browsing through Amazon? Goodreads? The library? See a book that really caught your attention? Here's your chance to give it a shout out.

I've been spending a lot of time in my local library. To the point the other day during my lunch break, I came in to ask a question, freaked out because all the computers were taken...and they handed me a laptop asking, "Where's yours?" (I'm pretty sure they know me now...and they know I write...and I owe them $3.30 in paper fines...still.) Anyways, so all this library dwelling leads to staring at a book case...which means that each time I come in I usually spend about 5-10 minutes browsing, seeing if I'll use my library card again.

So, the book that I've recently noticed was:

Elsewhere by Gabrielle Zevin.

I was drawn to this book because it has a beautiful cover (don't you think?). Then I read the inside cover and was like, "Man, when I'm not drowning in my TBR pile, this one's getting added!" (May have added it to my Christmas list :) ). I don't think Zevin is a NYT best selling author (I googled her and didn't see anything telling me she was) so this book fits the criteria for the hop. And now, I'm excited to read it!

So what about you guys? Any books you've wandered by and fallen in love with?

Speaking Languages

For week three of the Express Yourself Meme, they asked, "What language would you like to speak, and why?"

My answer to that is Polish. And here's why:

This is my Babcia (pronounced Bop-Cha, basically):
:

Isn't she adorable?

She is my grandmother on my mother's side of the family. As previously stated, I met her very late in life. By the time I was actually standing awkwardly in the same room with her, she'd had several strokes. She could walk, but it was incredibly slow, and her memory was being lost by the day.

Currently, she rocks out in a nursing home in Massachusetts. I haven't seen her in about two years (three, maybe?) The last time I saw her, she was in a wheelchair, withering down to skin and bones. She repeated questions like, "How is your mother?" "How is Jacci?" and she talked about her husband who's been dead longer than I've been alive. Now she is usually in a wheelchair, she can barely feed herself, and she watches reruns of I Love Lucy or whatever else is on the television.

Because her mind has regressed so substantially, I can say few words to her in her own tongue, How are you? and I love you. Her mind carries her native language, and I, as a product of the melting pot of America, have lost my cultural identity. My mother, formerly bi-lingual, also fails from time to time to remember a Polish word. She never taught her children how to speak another language (it's something I'm incredibly bitter with).

At some point in life, I would like to study Polish, to learn the language of my family. Sadly, I don't think I'll learn enough of the language fast enough to be able to have a coherent conversation with my babcia, but at least I'll know that that grain of culture resides in me, somewhere.

For now...It's English for me. (I'm so uncultured).

Tingly Movies or Books

This week for the Express Yourself Meme is:

List the five books/movies that caused the hair to stand up on the back of your neck. This also works out, because I love lists :)

So here we go:

5) Paranormal Activity 1
Okay, in all fairness, this one wasn't so creepy. Until I got home that night, and there was an attic connected to my bedroom, and I was like "OMG, did the bedsheets just lift?"And then I curled into the fetal position, clutching my Eeyore. Not a pretty sight.

This is some terrifying stuff

4) Harrison Bergeron, by Kurt Vonnegut
Okay, so it's not a novel, but it's a short story that scared the crap out of me. It's a dystopian short story where everyone is average. Smart people have things in their ears to break off their thoughts. Athletic people are weighed down by sandbags so they're no faster or better than the people beside them.
And just as the uprising starts, it gets shot down.
This story ripped my heart out of my chest, and made me fall in love with Vonnegut's work.

3) Pet Cemetery 2
First off, the step dad killed the dog. And then there was the motorcycle scene? This movie still gives me nightmares, but really, as soon as an animal dies, I start crying.

2) Night of the Living Dummy, R.L. Stine
There is NOTHING more horrifying than an inanimate object coming to life. And when you're in middle school (or elementary), and a dummy starts torturing you...you know it's the end of the world. The Chucky movies rival this place, but either way, dummies and dolls scare me to death. Dummies and dolls and clowns. And then to have them trying to kill you? No way. No effing way. I never had dolls growing up because I was scared they'd cut me when I slept. I had stuffed animals, because if they were gonna come alive, they'd defend me, and if they tried to eat me, at least they'd be cute.

1) Paranormal Activity 2
This one made me about pee my pants. Where the first one wasn't so scary until you got home, this one made me TERRIFIED to go home. I literally shook for about two hours after the movie, went to my boyfriends house, where he (also scared crapless) stated, "We're watching a funny movie, and sleeping with the lights on. Whoever falls asleep first, wins." He fell asleep first. I was afraid to leave the bed and go to the bathroom.

The Amityville Horror, and Haunting in Connecticut are also great scary movies. The woman from the Haunting in Connecticut actually came to my school to talk about what actually happened. I still get goosebumps.

And if you're wondering, I haven't forgotten about the post from the race. I just haven't had time to upload the pictures and write about it yet. Should be up Friday!

ALSO--I saw that there is a blog hop, something like "Did I notice your novel" and I think it happens October 17th....Um...Does anyone know who is hosting that one? I can't seem to find it again....(My bad)

Character Names (Express Yourself)

After doing some blog catch up, I stumbled across the Express Yourself weekly meme. And because it's weekly, there are posts each week to let bloggers get to know you, and your work a bit more. Sounds fun, right?

This week's question is,
Character Names: What was your process for acquiring it?

I've already talked about why Claire is named Claire in After Elizabeth, but I'm not sure I've touched on Allie in My Sister's Memories, so here's that story.

I have bad hat hair. Allie looks awesome.

At work they called her Little Allie, because there was Ali, and Allison, and Allie. We needed a way to get everyone correct because if you said the name, "Allie" you could be referring to one of several. She was the youngest crew member, and though she was young, she was wise beyond her years.

"Big Ali or Little Allie?" people would ask when you said the name.

Then everyone would be on the same page.

I knew of her but I didn't really meet her until I started working more at the store. If she was working on the same level that I was, I would read her chapters/paragraphs of the novel I was working on. "That sounds great!" she'd say, and I'd beam.

One night, she and her best friend, Jenna, came over. "Hey, you write, right?"

"Um, yea..." I answered.

"Would you mind reading our college entrance essays?"

"Sure!" I said, and got to work.

Allie's essay was honest for someone so young. It talked about being straight edge and why that's so important to her. As I read her words, it reminded me a lot of me when I was her age (you know, outstanding kid and all ;) ). I gave her back her edits, and she sent her submission off.

From then on out, Allie, Jenna, and I became friends.

Me, Ana, Jenna, and Allie

She was in attendance when I did an open mic night, I was invited to her open house, I visited her at her college, and she once helped tow me and an idiot boyfriend out of a sand bar.

"Let's be pen pals!" she suggested before she left for college.

"That sounds awesome!" I agreed.

Well, she wrote me a letter, sending me a button saying, Train Wreck, on it...and well...I never wrote back.

When things went downhill, Allie was the first one I freaked out on as she and her sister sat on my couch. Then in a psycho-like fashion, I peer pressured her to come to someone's house where I lost it on him, too. She then sat with me on a beach access in the middle of the night while I bawled my eyes out watching the moon dance on ocean waves.

I felt the stairs shake before she said anything. "You're cold?"

"Do you mind if we leave?" she asked in shorts and a t-shirt in the chilly October night.

I wiped the tears away and stood to drive home.

As I left the island, she and her sister were the last people I saw in the state of North Carolina.

In the following months, Allie was on the phone after something really bad, or something really good happened. I snowboarded on the phone with her, moved across the country on the phone with her. And this year, at long last, we are finally pen pals. (I've actually been writing back this time :) )

I love Little Allie like a sister. She's my BFF. I try to give advice when I can (still reminding her that I'm more of a train wreck than a role model), and watch out for her. Because of this, when I needed a name for the little sister in My Sister's Memories, Allie was the first thing that came to mind, and it fit with her personality pretty well.

So that's why Allie is Allie.

How do you guys come up with your character names?

Meet and Greet

Welcome to the Meet and Greet for GUTGAA. If you don't know what's going on, you should head on over and check it out! Today, Deana Barnhart asked a few questions, and here I am to answer them!

Where do you write? 

Everywhere. On my phone, on napkins, on my laptop...when the idea strikes me, I hunt for a pen, and whatever can hold ink. From there, I write. Sometimes it's still legible by the time I'm able to type it up! 

If I'm in a project and trying to keep my word count going, I usually write in my bedroom, with my iPod on shuffle. But my bedroom changes about every three months because I move so much.

Quick. Go to your writing space, sit down and look to your left. What is the first thing you see?

Well currently, I'm in the library. So to my left I see this:

But usually, it's a dirty tea cup, maybe some water. Some pens. Maybe crayons or makers. Or, you know, Baxter.

Favorite time to write?

At night. First thing in the morning I'm a bit of a monster, and can't function for a couple of hours. I have sleeping problems anyway, and my best ideas seem to come at 2am...which explains a lot of the nightmares and random dreams...

Drink of choice while writing?

Pepsi and ::cough:: rum. 

Or an energy drink. Or water. I think tea helps a lot. Especially because I just won a free year's supply! :)

When writing , do you listen to music or do you need complete silence?

MUSIC. I cannot function without music. (This library atmosphere is currently killing me, which is why I'm blogging, and not writing...)

What was your inspiration for your latest manuscript and where did you find it?

My last manuscript was After Elizabeth, about a girl recovering from her best friend's suicide. I got the inspiration because I was (and am) still very bitter with everything that happened last year, and I felt like killing someone. When all was said and done, one of the last things I told those people was, "You're dead to me," and they continued what they did anyway, so it was like they killed themselves to me. So rather than murder, I had a character kill herself. I'm a lot like Claire...still recovering from the death of my best friends.

What's your most valuable writing tip?

Finish.

If you're writing your first manuscript, finish it. I don't care if you decide to kill all of your characters, get them abducted by aliens, whatever. Just finish the manuscript. Why? Because once you finish one, you'll be able to finish another, and it'll be better. And your next will be better than that. 

Suddenly, that 60,000 word goal isn't so daunting.

Happy Monday!
(Also, this was a pre-scheduled post. If anyone comments, I'll check your post out, but sadly, I live by my work schedule and when I can get to the library currently. Sorry I can't hop around too much!)

Hangers

Over at Falling for Fiction, they're hosting round two of the Hookers and Hangers blog hop!

If you missed segment one, it was the hookers of chapters, those glamorous sentences that keep you from putting that book down and tell you you can pull through one more chapter. If you get the chance, go around to the other author blogs. They will not disappoint you!

Today, we're focusing on the hangers, the last sentence of the chapter where you sit there and think, "OMG!" and keep reading though it's 2am and you have to be up at 5am for work.

Hangers from After Elizabeth (YA Contemporary)  in no particular order:

In the place of sorrow, I found fury. Pure, unadulterated, uncontrollable, fury.


"I run alone," she states, re-hardening, and bolts.


Even though I'm going to get expelled. 


If I don't exist to Claire Davis, maybe I'm not real.


It was the beginning of the end. We never should have gone.


But, I find myself thinking, at least she's my neighbor.


Ready for this to be over, I checked my watch. We still had four minutes left of our ten minute run.


There would be a score to settle very, very soon.


Who is this girl?

And the last one I'll put up for this:

Then there are the mother fuckers, like Chad Higgins, who recognize the rope, and push people like Elizabeth off.

This was an awesome blog hop! Thanks Falling for Fiction! I hope you guys got to scope out the other entries, too!

Also, check out Monday's post for a contest happening here at The Submission Process!

Hookers

Over at Falling for Fiction they're hosting the Hookers and Hangers blog hop!

It's a two-part blog hop, so today, I will be posting the first sentences (Hookers!) of a few chapters from After Elizabeth. Tune in on the 18th for some ending (Hanger!) sentences.

In no particular order:

Don't!


I'm sweating my balls off as I sit shot gun in a U-haul.

When Elizabeth came back to school on Wednesday, she couldn’t make it through an entire class without crying. 


The walls are pink? Really, Mom? Really?


Claire’s car comes to a slamming stop, and I’m jolted forward so hard the locked seatbelt is like a punch to the chest.

When Sunday was said and done, Baxter was dead, and my ankle was officially sprained. 

And one more, that's a little more heartbreaking:

It was winter the first time Elizabeth tried to kill herself. 

 I'm excited to see the rest of the hookers for you guys!

At Long Last: Girls Just Want To Have Fun

Sorry I'm late, there's been a lot of stuff going on. But without further slacking off, here is my blog for the Girls Just Want to have Fun Blog Hop! The rules are your heroine gets interviewed by another female counterpart. I'm supposed to post a picture of them, but I'm opting out of that, sorry. Instead, I'll repost a picture of real life Claire, who my character is named for. Yay!

I'm on the left. She's on the right :)

So today's interview will be done by Sarah, MC from My Sister's Memories. She'll be asking Claire Downs, from After Elizabeth questions.



Sarah: "So you're smoking?"

Claire, who lets out a steady stream: "No, I'm on the patch."

Sarah, uncomfortably: "Are you even old enough--"

Claire shoots a mean look, Sarah stops.

Sarah: "Alright then. So this question is brought to you by Jaycee DeLorenzo. How would you describe your hero?"

Claire, after a moment of shooting daggers through her eyes: "I don't know. Spiderman? Superman? No, no The Power Rangers. Yea. The Power Rangers."

Sarah: "Why?"

Claire: "Fuck if I know. They had different colors, I guess."

Sarah: "Like your hair? It's blue today Do you dye it regularly?"

Claire: "Only when I'm bored."

Sarah: "Alright, next question. What attracts you to a guy?"

Claire, inhaling a long puff: "Do you expect me to like, say I like long walks on the beach, and a guy who brings a fucking puppy home?"

Sarah: "Umm...."

Claire: "Seriously. That's a bullshit question."

Sarah, avoiding confrontation because Claire looks like she'll lunge over the table and strangle her: "Next question! Favorite thing to do--"

Claire, cutting me off: "Is this shit over yet?" She proceeds to die out her cigarette on the table.

Sarah: "I guess it can be. Thanks for your time...."

Claire: "Fuck off."

Yea, I'd say that's a pretty accurate representation of Claire :) What do you think?

Also, we were asked to post a theme-ish song, so I think this one covers Claire pretty well:

Sorry again that it's late, but I hope you enjoyed it! :)

Never Surrender

Here to celebrate Elena Johnson's book release, Surrender, is the Never Surrender Blog Hop.

 So, when was a time I didn't give up on something? Well, honestly, every day of my life. I've come to the conclusion recently that I've died several times. Sadly, I've also tried to kill myself more times than I've died and have scars all over my body from self injury. But my body, my mind, and my soul are still inhabiting this earth, so every day I breathe, I'm not giving up, I'm not surrendering.

Always up for what comes next :)

I owe my last year and half of survival to Baxter, and in reality, probably more than that. Life with him has been a roller coaster of trying to find apartments that allow 110-125lb dogs, or just pets in general. Usually when we find these places, they're run down, infested with something (cockroaches, bedbugs, ants, horrible people), and the standard of living is sub par (when I first got him, we stayed in a place with cockroaches and the roommate let her dog crap and pee all over the floor. Baxter got an infection, I got sick for two months).

We've also been in situations where we were financially struggling to make ends meet, so I had to give up beer, and cut back on food, and Baxter had to give up expensive food and new toys. But somehow, we've pushed through, and we've made it work.

When I went crazy in North Carolina, it was Baxter, laying next to me on the couch, in my bed, while I cried for days on end, who put me back in motion. He relied on me to be able to go to the bathroom, to eat, and I had an obligation to him to take care of him.

At one point, when I'd stopped answering my phone for about a week, my sister called and said (in a somewhat panicky voice), "Did something happen to Baxter?" It was then I knew that things really could get worse, and with that question, she offered me a ray of hope that I latched on to.

Rather than finding Baxter a home and diving into the ocean and letting the waves take me out (which had been my plan), Baxter and I packed up the car and went north. When we arrived in Maine, we didn't have anywhere to live because all of the ads on Craigslist didn't allow pets. Sneaking into UNE dorms and spending a night, we found a place in Woodstock, ME, that at the time seemed like a sanctuary (and ended up being another sketchy place with a funny/awkward/scarring story).

Our new place :)

Since then we've continued to have adventures (living in my friend's basement for a month and a half, etc), and I know we'll have plenty more. We're currently in our own apartment with awesome neighbors who run with me, feed me, and sit on the porch and chat all hours of the night.

I know things can get bad, and still push me to the point of throwing the towel in. But with Baxter around, I've found that I have to not only take care of him, but take care of me, too. And so no matter how hard life gets, chances are I've been through worse. So I won't surrender, I won't give up, and I'll find solutions to keep pushing on.

High School Dances

Thanks to Kelley Lynn for hosting this blog hop!

My friend (blue) Crazy Carolin, and me (dark red)
Sophomore or Junior Homecoming

As the title suggests, the hop is about high school dances, which is awesome because I LOVED high school dances. I went to every homecoming, coming home, and prom available....and even went to some extras (because my sister invited me to hers since she went to school an hour away from me.)

Though I hated dress shopping because my shoulders and hips are too wide, I loved finding shiny shoes, getting new make-up, getting my hair done, and being the only girl getting ready who knew what she was doing....which was funny, because I never wore make-up to school.

Sadly, all of my dances took place in the era of film cameras so I only have the photo above, and some from prom. This story, however, takes place with Alex and me at Coming Home.

Coming Home for those of you who aren't familiar with the term, is where girls ask the boys, AND then the couple wears the same outfit. At my school's Coming Home, you also had the chance to get hitched. Teachers would pose as ministers and marry the students. They supplied bogus wedding certificates, and cheap re-sizeable rings.

Days before, I'd found out Alex had cheated on me (gasp!) but because I was young and in love, we figured we'd try to press on...if I didn't murder him, first.

Plus, I'd already bought the tickets and filled out the paper work so he could come, so damnit, he was coming whether he wanted to or not!

Alex and Me (and my friend's brother in the background)

After going to Hot Topic and buying shirts that said, "Don't Make Me Go Zelda On You", and getting white tear-away pants from Aeropostal, we were ready to go.

The dance was mostly fun. Most of my friends had found out what he'd done, and so there was a drive-by kicking from my friend Erika, some people would walk by and call him mean names, and I was still teetering on the edge of snapping and punching him in the face at any moment.

Then the DJ made the announcement that the weddings were now open, and suddenly the anger evaporated. Replaced, was a desperate need to marry Alex. Though I was still incredibly pissed and hurt, it seemed like only the rational thing to do. Since I'm the girl, I wasn't going to propose...even if it was a fake wedding. Instead, I decided that if he didn't propose, I'd have another reason to pick a fight with him.

My friends kept running at us, showing us their rings and certificates, and I was oozing with jealousy. I wanted to get married, too! I loved the stupid kid, and it was part of Coming Home! Every time we danced, I looking over, pining at the adorable couples getting married. It's not fair! That should be me!

At some point, Alex disappeared.

After five minutes of pacing back and forth on the dark dance floor, I figured out he wasn't in the bathroom, and the anger started surfacing again. I wasn't sure where he'd gone until a friend ran up to me, grabbed my arm, and dragged me to the vending machines, where Alex was waiting. They both smiled at each other, and she left.

"What is this?" I asked, probably not in a nice way.

Alex proceeded to take my hand, and drop to one knee. "I think it would be in your best interest to marry me," he said, and my heart and stomach fluttered.

"My best interest?" I laughed, not caring if the whole school was staring at us.

"Yep."

I probably played it off like I wasn't giddy, or excited, and when he got up, I kissed him because he was mine, and I was happy. We went to the "chapel" (a small sign at the top of the stairs that said something like "Chapel" or something like that), and when they asked if we did, we said I do. We signed the paper, and were both distracted when the photographer took our wedding picture, so it was the worst picture...ever. (I wish I had a copy to show here, but it's in my storage unit, sorry!)

We spent the rest of the night with my friends, and playing with our rings. Months later, I want to say it was for my birthday, he made a photo collage consisting of our wedding rings, a copy of the certificate, our wedding photo, and some lottery tickets we'd scratched off.

I had a lot of adventures in high school, but this was probably one of my favorite ones. Hope you guys check out the other entries!

Open Mic Blog Hop!

Okay, hopefully this works. Technology hates me...Also, it was way bright outside, but it was the only place it was quiet...

This is what I'll be reading :)

Airplanes

It’s nearing noon and she’s clutching my hand as though the blood pumping through me is flowing right into her. I feel like life support, I’m keeping her alive, I alone am responsible for her strength, for each step that she’s taking. I am the mama bird waiting to shove my little offspring out into the cruel hard world. I’m making her grow wings and fly on her own.

We spent the last two hours in a car packed so tight that when the doors opened the suitcase fell on my foot. The radio the entire time was loud enough to drown out the screams in our hearts saying “Don’t change this, don’t leave.” And so we sang like we were happy, like we were whole, like we would stay this way forever and the trip we were taking was just an ordinary one. Like she’d be coming home with me in the end.

Now we find ourselves holding hands as the suitcase trails behind her, and I carry her backpack. We give strength to each other the way we had any time the other was weak. We approach the kiosk to check her in. The woman from the airline smiles friendly enough, but she doesn’t understand that I’m about to let go of the last four months of my life. That the girl beside me will be a fiercely independent woman the next time she walks through the terminal. I’m breathing, she’s breathing, the woman behind the counter is breathing. We don’t matter to her, she doesn’t matter to us, but in this moment, we’re all connected. She’s taking my sister’s luggage, taking her from me, and I smile and put my credit card in the machine to pay the $60 fee that she can’t afford because for some reason I always have money and she never does. She thanks me and says she’ll pay me back, and some day down the line, I’m sure she will…but I would rather keep her than my money. I once more ask her is she’s sure she wants to do this. She reaffirms to me that she’s taken an oath and has to leave, it’s out of our hands now (yet hers is still in mine, I don’t want to let go).

We carry the 36lb and 47.2lb bag to security. No sir, there are no flammable items, and yes sir, they’re unlocked. The bags are gone, save the backpack and computer case that she’ll carry on board.

I’m sad, but I find it hard to cry even at funerals. She sets her bags down and embraces me so I can feel her body pressed against mine like we’re merging to be one person. And that’s how it’s been for the last four months; we were one entity, one person. We were “The Smiths” or “The Smith-Heads”. I wasn’t Jennifer, she wasn’t Laura. She says she loves me just loud enough that it plays through my ear, and I can feel the emotion through her arms. My entire being is begging her not to leave me because I’m scared to be alone, because I’m scared of her growing too strong without me, because I’m not sure how to stand on my own without her. None of this I can say out loud, as I’m supposed to give her strength to pretend that I’m fine and so she’ll be fine, so I resolve to hug her until my arms tire.

I’m the little sister, and I am just that, little. Without effort, she lifts all 110 lbs of me, and because I like to make a scene, I wrap my legs around her in a koala like bear hug. And we sing Leaving on a Jet Plane because we don’t know when she’ll be back again. We laugh into each other as she sets me down. I tell her to take care of herself, she says to keep in touch. I can’t stay long enough to wait for her to board the plane or even walk her over to security, I’m two hours late for work, and it will be four by the time I arrive back.

We embrace once more and though we can’t feel it, a razor just crept between us, murdering The Smiths and birthing Laura and Jennifer. We step apart, dazed from the impact, and look at each other for the first time, the other half which had completed us for so long and begin stitching up the hole where the other had been.

Goodbyes are said, and I walk to my car, the car we had used the entire summer. There is vomit on the paneling from a friend’s birthday the previous weekend. On the other side of the car, there are massive scratches that will eventually be buffered out, and pieces that will hopefully be super glued down from her backing my car into a tree. But for right now, these pieces take the place of her for me.

The key has been in the ignition for the 15 minutes it took to get her settled in, and my car jumps gently to life. I look back at the airport and say a prayer under my breath that she’ll be brave in her new life, that she’ll survive the heat and humidity and have an awesome year. As a side note I pray for myself, that I can breathe on my own, that I too will be brave in my life without her.

My foot finds its way off the clutch and I alone head to my destination to lay claim to a place that had once been ours but is now mine. 

Okay, thanks for stopping by!

Open Mic Blog Hop!

First and foremost, I'd like to thank Cassie Mae for all of her assistance in the assembly of this blog hop. Without her help and guidance, I would have been completely lost. (Thanks, Cassie!)

If you've been following my blog, you know I'm a wicked anxious person. But as writers we'll all face that moment when we approach the stage, and GASP! read our work out loud. Or, we'll go on a book tour, and be like Eminem and be all, "He's nervous, but on the surface, he looks calm and ready," and address a ton of strangers to impart some wisdom on everyone.

At AWP, they talked about going to coffee shops, and open mic nights and getting our names out there, so...

...Consider this blog hop, a practice run:

Omg, Open Mic Blog Hop!
Yes! Thanks, Baxter, for suggesting it! :)

I've chosen April 19, 2012 because well, it's my birthday and it gives me something to look forward to, and it's not even April 1st yet, so you guys have time to get your game faces on.

What We're Doing:

*Pick a piece. It could be the first chapter of your novel, a short story you really like, a few poems. BUT it has to be yours. 

*Find a camera that takes video

*Video yourself reading your work out loud, to us, your captive audience

Tips:

--I'm personally going to aim for like two-three minutes. Maybe less, because like I said, I'm anxious.  

--If you'd like, you may also post the writing to your blog, so that we can read along with you as you read to us 

--Remember, look up. We'll actually get to see you now!

--If you're nervous, it's okay. I'll be freaking out, too!

--If you'd like, you may edit your video, but umm....my computer is old school, I won't be able to, so you'll get to see me turn my camera on, read, and turn it off. Bax may make a guest appearance since he usually is where I am

--Have fun with it!

For the record, you can upload videos directly to blogger, or if you prefer and have a YouTube channel, you can do it that way. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask! Also, please sign up on the linky at the bottom, and steal the Blog Hop thumbnail thinger for your blog, too!


One More Thing:
If we're able to reach 75 participants, two people (chosen at random, probably by Baxter) will get a five page (written, not read out loud :) ) critique from me. If they'd like, anyway. :)

Valentine's Kisses

If you read the quick post from yesterday...

Is going down. It's a blog hop, so make sure to check out the other entries through Hope and Cassie!

Anyways, enough rambling. Here's my smoochy scene from My Sister's Memories:

“So, am I still grounded?” Allie asks after dinner.

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. It takes me a second to realize that she’s remembered this on her own. “I said it was for a week.” I’m then grateful that she had the decency to start this after Jordan and Melanie left.

“That’s stupid, why aren’t you grounded?” she asks.

“Why is that stupid?”

“Because, you might get expelled. You got sent to detention. And yet, I’m grounded, while you get to run around and do whatever you want,” she says.

“I’m the adult, Allie.”

“Only by default,” she says and I can’t help but to laugh.

“Fine,” I tell her, “if I were to be grounded, what would my punishment be?”

She sits for a second trying to decide whether or not I’m being serious. When she figures out that I am, she smiles. “Alright, young lady, this time you get off with a warning, next time I won’t be so lenient,” she tells me with a hand on her hip, while the other points at me.

I laugh again, “Thanks Mama Allie.”

“So, what’s my punishment tonight?” As if on cue, Alyssa, the goalie from the soccer team knocks on the door and Allie is sent off into the night.

“Be home by nine, please,” I call after her.

“Yea, yea,” she says waving me off.

Before I’m able to close the door, I see Jordan walking up. “Night, Allie,” he greets.

I open my door a little wider, “Hey.”

“Is that an invite?” he asks.

“Do you want it to be?”

“I feel like you may need to rehearse what you’re going to say at your meeting tomorrow,” he pauses, “and I brought some beer.”

“That sounds responsible,” I joke.

He tucks the six pack behind is back, “Bad idea?”

“Naw, I’ll have one. I just wanted to point out that it may not be responsible.”

“You’re supposed to be young and free, right?” he winks at me and sets the beer on the counter.

I hear my phone ring and dive onto the couch to answer it, “Hey.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Cassie asks. “You weren’t in class today. Did something happen with Allie?”

I laugh louder than I mean to, “No. Actually…I umm….got sent to detention.”

“No you didn’t!” she chuckles. “What the hell for?”

“I umm….attacked a kid in Allie’s class,” I say while looking at Jordan.

She laughs so hard I have to move the phone away from my ear, “That is the best thing I’ve heard all day. Thank you for that. What are you up to tonight?”

From the sound in her voice I think she’s going to invite me out, and I imagine that it’d be nice since I’ve only been hanging out with Allie and Jordan. “Jordan’s here.”

“Ohhh, the guy from last night?” she asks.

“Yea, that one.”

“He’s cute. I’d do him,” she says. When I don’t respond she asks, “Was that the wrong thing to say?”

I chuckle, “No, just awkward. But we’ll talk later, okay?”

“Yea, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night.” I tell her. When I end the call I turn to Jordan, “Oh, also, remind me to thank your sister for setting up people to take Allie out,” I say.

“I’ll tell her you said so. I think she’s pretty excited about all of it.”

“She seems pretty optimistic about the situation,” I say.

He shrugs, “I think her attitude is the whole beggars can’t be choosers.”

I smile. “Wanna hear a funny story?”

“Of course,” he says.

“Allie tried to ground me tonight,” I tell him.

“You’re shitting me, right?” he laughs.

I shake my head, “She thinks it’s not fair that she’s grounded, meanwhile I’m allowed to attack people at school and get away with it.”

He takes a step closer to me and suddenly the atmosphere has shifted. When he speaks, his voice is gentle and more serious that I’d ever heard it, “You could use some…”

I take a tiny step toward him, “Sexual healing?”

He smiles but doesn’t laugh, which only makes me more anxious, “I was going to say guidance, but if you want to take things in that direction.”

I don’t tell him out loud that I want to. Instead, I look at the floor pattern in the apartment.

“Sarah?” he asks. When I look up he’s right in front of me, so close I can smell the soap on his skin. My heart leaps into every part of my body. As if Hollywood were producing my life, a stray strand of hair falls across my cheek. He leans over as he tucks it behind my ear for me. His fingers trail my jaw line and my entire face flushes. Every portion of me is vibrating. His fingers are still resting on my face.

“Yea?” I whisper, still unable to make eye contact.

I wait, adhering to my mother’s advice. Every inch of me shakes with anticipation. I can’t even imagine what his lips would feel like. My teeth bite against the corner of my lip for just a second.

He leans closer to me, and in one movement I stop breathing. His fingers tip my chin in his direction and his lips are on mine.

If it were possible for a body to dissolve, I’d be a puddle on the floor.