Melody of the Miscellaneous

Blitz Day!!!

2010-06-22T16:51:00.000-04:00

Today is the day of the Venom and Song Amazon Blitz! *applause and cheers* Tonight, from seven to eight o'clock, it's time to send Venom and Song to the top of the Amazon Bestsellar List!!! To purchase the book, click the banner above. See you at the Blitz.

Tribe Building, Blitz, Books, and Spiders!

2010-06-15T19:58:00.003-04:00

Venom and Song is out!

The long-awaited second book in the Berinfell Prophecies series by Wayne Thomas Batson and Christopher Hopper is finally here!

The second round of Tribe Building has begun! You can hop over to author Wayne Thomas Batson's blog to see what it's all about, or you could stop by The Underground, a forum full of dedicated elves masquerading as crazy humans (I'm one of them, I should know). If you want to join in the fun and frenzy, there are seven (and counting) tribes who would absolutely love for you to join them. I'm a member of Silvertree. If you want a glimpse of what it's like, you can see our previous blog (our current blog is top secret).

On Tuesday, June 22 at 7 pm, EST, we will storm the cybergates of Amazon in an attempt to propel the much-anticipated Venom and Song to the top of the Amazon Bestseller Chart. A target time (7-8 pm) will concentrate our efforts, pushing Venom and Song's even higher on the list.

That's great, but why?

Books that make it high on the bestseller list are seen by a lot more people. The exposure tends to generate a lot more sales. Great opening sales tell the publisher that the book is suceeding, so they're willing to risk more on promotion and marketing, which also generates more sales. If you're participating in Tribe Building, buying the book during the blitz is worth massive points.

Want more info about Venom and Song Blitz? Click here.

Books Galore

2010-06-04T20:16:00.001-04:00

Here are some interesting tags about books that I filled out in my spare time. They appealed immensely to the bookworm in me, and I'm sure that, as most of you like to read, you'll like them as well. Feel free to grab any or all that interest you.

Number One

Instructions - Grab the nearest book and flip to page 123 and type up the first four lines (sentences). It has to be the nearest book; you can't pick one randomly. The only exception is textbooks. They don't count as options in this case.
Riona, Linda Windsor -
"Could I borrow your sling and a few stones?"
Surprise widened the lad's eyes. "My sling? What will you do with my sling?"
Ignoring the slap of the child's incredulity, Riona replied, "I should like some semblance of protection out in the wood alone. Your sling will do nicely."
"An' pity the luckless soul that crosses it," Kieran murmured.

Number Two

Top 3 authors:
1. J. R. R. Tolkien
2. N. D. Wilson
3. C. S. Lewis and Jane Austen tie for third

Top 3 male characters:
That's impossible! I have more than ten favorite male characters in The Lord of the Rings alone!
Okay, I narrowed it from impossible to twenty-nine, then from twenty-nine to ten, and from ten to what you see here.
1. Faramir (The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien)
2. Walter Foley (Dragons in Our Midst, Oracles of Fire - Bryan Davis)
3. Monmouth (100 Cupboards trilogy - N. D. Wilson) and Mr. Charlie, aka Merrick, (The Berinfell Prophecies - Wayne Thomas Batson & Christopher Hopper) tie for third

Top 3 female characters:
Just three?! I narrowed it down as much as possible. You'll have to take four.
1. Éowyn (The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien)
2. Ashley Stalworth (Dragons in Our Midst, Oracles of Fire - Bryan Davis)
3. Millicent Fairweather Clark (Whirlwind - Cathy Marie Hake) and Elizabeth Bennet Darcy (Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen) tie for third

Top 30 fiction books in no particular order:
1. The Lord of the Rings trilogy (J. R. R. Tolkien)
2. 100 Cupboards trilogy (N. D. Wilson)
3. The Hobbit (J. R. R. Tolkien)
4. Leepike Ridge (N. D. Wilson)
5. Whirlwind (Cathy Marie Hake)
6. The Silmarillion (J. R. R. Tolkien)
7. Jackaroo (Cynthia Voigt)
8. Persuasion (Jane Austen)
9. Airman (Eoin Colfer)
10. The Eagle of the Ninth (Rosemary Sutcliff)
11. The Silver Branch (Rosemary Sutcliff)
12. Blood Feud (Rosemary Sutcliff)
13. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
14. Mark of the Lion trilogy (Francine Rivers)
15. The Bachelor's Bargain (Catherine Palmer)
16. Dragon's in Our Midst series (Bryan Davis)
17. Mara, Daughter of the Nile (Eloise Jarvis McGraw)
18. The Chronicles of Narnia (C. S. Lewis)
19. Tahn (L. A. Kelly)
20. The Viking Quest series (Lois Walfrid Johnson)
21. Castaways of the Flying Dutchman trilogy (Brian Jacques)
22. The White Lion Chronicles (Christopher Hopper)
23. In Freedom's Cause: a story of Wallace and Bruce (G. A. Henty)
24. The Door Within trilogy (Wayne Thomas Batson)
25. The Curse of the Spider King (Wayne Thomas Batson & Christopher Hopper)
26. Isle of Swords & Isle of Fire duo (Wayne Thomas Batson)
27. The Lost Baron (Allen French)
28. The Red Keep (Allen French)
29. Artemis Fowl series (Eoin Colfer)
30. Enoch's Ghost (Bryan Davis)

Top 3 books most recently read:
1. Nick of Time (Ted Bell)
2. Whirlwind (Cathy Marie Hake)
3. The Supernaturalist (Eoin Colfer)

Worst 3 books ever read:
I read so many books that I really don't remember which books were bad. If I read a book that I dislike, I try to forget about it, because it's not worth expending the energy to remember.

Top 5 scenes from any book:
Any book, or any one book? I’ll pick Dandelion Fire, by N. D. Wilson.
1. In the prison in the faerie mound, when Monmouth and Henry talk in their dreams, and then Henry goes exploring in his dream and leaves the mark of dandelions on the wall.
2. The ending, with the party in Zeke’s backyard and then baseball in Hylfing.
3. When Henry meets his family, they have the christening, his naming ceremony, and Mordecai comes home.
4. On the boat when Monmouth frees Henry and Franklin Fat Faerie and they kick the three bad wizards into the sea.
5. When Henry meets Ron and Nella in their house above Byzanthamum.

The book(s) that made me cry the most:
Well, I rarely cry, especially over books or movies. I can't recall a book that I cried over. I did get sad a lot in the Lord of the Rings, but I don’t think I shed any tears.

The book(s) that made me laugh the most:
1. Louly (Carol Ryrie Brink)
2. Just Patty (Jean Webster)
3. Dragons in Our Midst series (Bryan Davis)
4. The Melendy series: The Saturdays, The Four-Story Mistake, Then There Were Five, Spiderweb for Two (Elizabeth Enright)
5. Isle of Swords (Wayne Thomas Batson)
6. Curse of the Spider King (Wayne Thomas Batson & Christopher Hopper)
7. Owls in the Family (Farley Mowat)

The book(s) that made me feel the best at the end:
1. The Lord of the Rings (J. R. R. Tolkien)
2. 100 Cupboards trilogy (N. D. Wilson)
3. Persuasion (Jane Austen)
4. Leepike Ridge (N. D. Wilson)
5. Whirlwind (Cathy Marie Hake)
6. The Eagle of the Ninth (Rosemary Sutcliff)
7. Mara, Daughter of the Nile (Eloise Jarvis McGraw)
8. The Chronicles of Narnia (C. S. Lewis)

Contemporary or historical?
Historical, generally.

Science fiction, fantasy, or horror?
Fantasy, though sci-fi fantasy is awesome, too.

Hardback, trade paperback, or mass-market paperback?
Trade paperback. Hardbacks are hard to hold for extended periods, and mass-markets are too thick to read comfortably.

Barnes & Noble or Amazon?
Most of the books I have are gifts. If I'm buying a book, then I normally will buy it from Lifeway or Family Christian Stores, because they have the type of books I like. If B&N has the book I want, and I get a coupon, I'll buy it from B&N. I've only bought one thing from Amazon, to be honest.

Bookmark or dog-ear?
Dog-ear?! 0.0 That's sacrilege! If I want to save my place, bookmark. However, I only use a bookmark half the time...

Alphabetize by author, alphabetize by title, or organize not at all?
I organize by genre. Fantasy, sci-fi, historical fic, classics, nonfic etc. Then I sub-organize by series, or by how much I like the book.

Keep, throw away, or sell?
Keep. If I get duplicates (like as a gift), I exchange it for a different book or I give it away. I NEVER throw away a book.

Keep dust jacket or toss it?
I take it off and stow it somewhere.

Read with dust jacket or remove it?
Remove it. I can't stand dust jackets. >.<

Little Women or Anne of Green Gables?
Um... how about Jo's Boys? To answer the question, I don't like either of those that much, but Little Women trumps Anne. I like Alcott's other books better than Little Women, believe it or not.

Short story or novel?
Novel. Short stories are too... short. By the time you get to know the character, the story is over.

Stop reading when tired or at chapter breaks?
I don't have much time to read. When I do have time, half the time I have to stop when I'm right in the middle of something. Other than that, I generally stop at chapter breaks, or I'll fall asleep reading...

“It was a dark and stormy night” or “Once upon a time”?
Well, I don't like clichés, but I guess 'stormy night'. It's more gripping. Not that it really is gripping; it's just more gripping than 'once upon a time'.

Tearjerker or belly laugh?
Belly laugh. Tearjerkers are sad. =P And since I don't end up crying, I just feel depressed.

Buy or borrow?
I normally try to check it out of the library first, and if I like the book, then I ask for it for my birthday or Christmas.

Buying choice: book reviews, recommendation, or browse?
Well, if a friend likes a book, I'll investigate it and see if I want to read it. I also like to browse home school catalogues and Christian book catalogues. If something piques my interest, I find out more about it before I buy it.

Collection (short stories by the same author) or anthology (short stories by different authors)?
I'm not sure. Collection, I think.

Standalone or series?
Series, generally.

Tidy ending or cliffhanger?
Tidy ending. Cliffhangers are fun to write, but torture to read.

Morning reading, afternoon reading, or nighttime reading?
I read whenever I can find the time. Most of the time that’s when I'm supposed to be sleeping...

Favorite genre series?
My favorite series in my favorite genre? Either Tolkien's Lord of the Rings, or N. D. Wilson's 100 Cupboards series. Probably LotR, though.

New or used?
New!

Favorite book of which nobody else has heard?
Heehee. Many of the books I read, no one has ever heard. Hmm. I think I'll pick Jackaroo, by Cynthia Voigt. It's like Robin Hood, Zorro, and the Scarlet Pimpernel whirled into one. ^.^

Number Three
(From Noah over at Noah's Reads)

Which eight books would you love to live in?

1. Dandelion Fire (N. D. Wilson)
2. Persuasion (Jane Austen)
3. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
4. The Silver Branch (Rosemary Sutcliff)
5. Mara, Daughter of the Nile (Eloise Jarvis McGraw)
6. The Red Keep (Allen French)
7. The Eagle of the Ninth (Rosemary Sutcliff)
8. The Hobbit (J. R. R. Tolkien)

Number Four

Name 12 characters and then answer the questions:

1. Peregrin 'Pippin' Took (Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien)
2. Ashley Stalworth (Dragons in Our Midst, Oracles of Fire - Bryan Davis)
3. Kyo Sohma (Fruits Basket - Natsuki Takaya)
4. Éomer (Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien)
5. Captain Frederick Wentworth, R. N. (Persuasion - Jane Austen)
6. Louisa 'Louly' Tucker (Louly - Carol Ryrie Brink)
7. Anne Ross (Isle of Swords, Isle of Fire - Wayne Thomas Batson)
8. Conor Broekhart (Airman - Eoin Colfer)
9. Anastasia Willis (100 Cupboards series - N. D. Wilson)
10. Oliver Melendy (The Melendy series - Elizabeth Enright)
11. Jimmy Gresham (The Berinfell Prophecies - Wayne Thomas Batson)
12. Catherine Moreland Tilney (Northanger Abbey - Jane Austen)

1) Who would make a better collage professor, 6 or 11?
Ooh, hard. They'd both make good professors. Louly likes to boss people around, but Jimmy is smart.

2) Do you think 2 is nice?
Yes, and Ashley’s also sweet and funny.

3) 12 sends 8 out on a mission. What is it? Does it succeed?
Catherine sends Conor to find some novels similar to the ones she likes (from the early 1800s). Conor flies his aeroplane to the nearest bookstore and picks up a set of the Complete Works of Jane Austen. He takes them back to Catherine, who devours them. When she reaches Northanger Abbey, she is shocked to find that she actually is a heroine in a novel!

4) What is or what would be 9's favorite book?
If such a book exists, I'm sure it would be Anastasia’s favorite: 1,001 Ways to Annoy Your Siblings

5) Would it make more sense for 2 to swear fealty to 6, or the other way around?
Ashley to swear fealty to Louly, or Louly to swear fealty to Ashley. Hmm! I think I'd have to go with Louly (6) swearing fealty to Ashley (2).

6) For some reason, 5 is looking for a roommate. Should (s)he room with 9 or 10?
Captain Frederick Wentworth, R. N., is looking for a roommate and his choices are Anastasia or Oliver? Oliver, indubitably! Not only is he a boy, but he also talks a smidgen less than Anastasia.

7) 3, 7 and 12 are going out to dinner. Where do they go and what do they discuss?
Kyo Sohma, Anne Ross, and Catherine Moreland are going out to dinner? Hmm. Anne would take charge and ask where the others would like to go. Kyo would shrug and mumble something about 'anywhere, as long as I don't have to eat leeks'. Catherine would ponder the question and then defer to Anne's superior knowledge. Anne would decide to take them to O'Lordan's near London's waterfront. Anne would order meat pies, Kyo would stare out the window, and Catherine would start chattering about the novel she's reading. She'd mention something about the ship that carried off the abducted princess, and Anne would quiz her about what kind of ship it was. Kyo would ignore the whole thing, fingering his bracelet.

8) 3 challenges 10 to a duel, who wins?
Kyo challenges Oliver to a duel, and Kyo wins. Not only is Kyo about eight years older, but he's extremely more athletic. Oliver's a bit on the chubby side.

9) If 1 stole 8's most precious possession, how would (s)he get it back?
If Pippin stole Conor's most precious possession? Hmm. That would be either Conor's aeroplane, Conor's brother, or Conor's fiancée, Queen Isabella. It would probably be Isabella. Although I don't know how a hobbit could abduct a twenty-something female human who is a wonderful fencer, we are speaking hypothetically, are we not? Conor would fly to Pippin's lair, or wherever he was keeping Isabella, and rescue her.

10) Suggest a story title in which 7 and 12 both attain what they desire.
Anne and Catherine? Hmm. Anne wants to marry Cat, and Catherine wants to marry Henry. Therefore, the title might be A Double Wedding. Cheesy, I know.

11) What kind of plot device would you have to use if you wanted 1 and 4 to work together?
If I wanted Pippin and Éomer to work together? Heehee. They already do! They save Helm's Deep! Pippin gets Treebeard to go to Isengard, and so indirectly sends the trees to Helm's Deep to devour the orcs. Éomer rides back to Rohan with his éored and chases the orcs into the trees. Teamwork!

12) If 7 visited you for the weekend, how would it go?
We would have ever so much fun! Anne Ross is awesome. Not to mention she's a hero. Among other things, I'd have her teach me how to sail. ^.^

13) If you could command 3 to perform any service or task for you, what would it be?
o.0 That's hard. I don't know, quite honestly. I doubt I'd be able to command Kyo, anyhow.

14) Does 11 like to write or draw?
I can imagine Jimmy dabbling in writing, or doodling in the margins.

15) If 2 had to choose sides between 4 and 5, what side would (s)he choose?
If Ashley had to choose sides between Éomer and Captain Wentworth, I think she'd go with Éomer.

16) What might 10 shout out while charging into battle?
Haha! That's a funny one! Oliver Melendy, charging into battle! *rolls on floor laughing* He'd probably cobble together a bunch of phrases, like "The British are coming, the British are coming! Dash away, dash away, dash away all!"

17) If you had to choose a song to best describe 8, what would it be?
A song that best describes Conor – that would be either Switchfoot’s ‘Meant to Live’ or Skillet’s ‘Hero’.

18) What would be a good pickup line for 2 to say to 10?
For Ashley to say to Oliver? "Too much information can make your brain choke." It's Ashley's pickup line anyway, and it works with Oliver, who loves asking questions.

19) What would 5 most likely be arrested for?
Captain Frederick Wentworth, arrested?! He's a most honorable gentleman!

20) If 11 and 9 were racing to a destination, who would get there first?
If Jimmy Gresham raced Anastasia Willis, I think they'd tie. Jimmy's fast, but Anastasia's relentless.

21) What is the lowest point of 1's story?
The lowest point in Pippin's story? He has a bunch of low points (not as many as Frodo, but still a lot). Perhaps when he was eaten by a willow in the Old Forest, or captured by a Barrow-wight, or when he threw the stone down the well in Moria, or captured by orcs of the White Hand, or when he looked in the palantír, or crushed by a hill-troll. I'm not sure which is the lowest, so take your pick.

22) 1 and 9 reluctantly team up to save the world from the threat posed by 4's sinister secret organization. 11 volunteers to help them, but it is later discovered that s/he is actually a spy for 4. Meanwhile, 4 has kidnapped 12 in an attempt to force their surrender. Following the wise advice of 5, they seek out 3, who gives them what they need to complete their quest. What title would you give this fic?
Let me get this straight - Peregrin Took and Anastasia Willis reluctantly teamed up to save the world from Éomer's secret sinister organization. Jimmy Gresham volunteered to help Pippin and Anastasia, but then they discovered that he was actually a spy for Éomer. Meanwhile, Éomer kidnapped Catherine Moreland in an attempt to force Pippin and Anastasia to surrender. Following the wise advice of Captain Wentworth, Pippin and Anastasia sought out Kyo Sohma, who gave them what they needed to save the world, rescue Catherine, and defeat Éomer.
I need to name this? Perhaps The Revenge of the Horse Lord. Or Rohan's Revenge. Maybe Took and Willis, World Savers. What about Operation: Golden Hall? Or perhaps Fall of the Golden Hall – it rhymes. Or maybe A Kaleidoscope of Characters. Of course, you could go with the obvious Éomer's Attempt at World Domination. Perhaps A Jaunt through the Mind of a Fantasy Addict with Too Much Time on Their Hands.

Heartbeat

2010-05-25T13:12:00.001-04:00

Heartbeat

Da-dum. Da-dum.
Heartbeat, pounding.
Ball beats a cadence;
Shoes squeak on the polished floor.
Up and down, back and forth,
The ball crisscrosses the court.
Sweat flies from brows,
Drenches jerseys.
Move to the rhythm of the ball.
Swish through the net.
“Score!”

Da-dum. Da-dum.
Heartbeat, thudding.
Legs march together,
Left, right, left, right.
Sweating under the glaring sun.
Weapons heavy in hands,
Hearts heavier.
No mere game, this war.
They’ve lost comrades, brothers.
They’ll lose more.
Which won’t see another day?
“Fire!”

Da-dum. Da-dum.
Heartbeat, pulsing.
Tiny hands flutter, wave;
Little feet kick, squirm.
Brainwaves, heartbeat, pulsing blood –
Life. Tiny, fragile life.
Can’t talk yet; hasn’t learned to cry.
Can’t fight to stay alive.
Lies, confusion, poor decisions.
One choice. One life.
A right. It’s permissible.
Heartbeat?

Silence.

Insomniac Poetry, part three

2010-05-22T21:11:00.000-04:00

Tinkling

Like small silver bells

Water running over stones in a mountain brook

The laughter of little children

Icicles in a thaw

Raindrops, plinking in a small pond

High piano keys

Waving

Bright colored silks in the wind

Banners rippling from high atop pinnacles

Trees in a breeze

Bending, swaying branches

Leaves of green and gold fluttering in the sun

Farewell to a loved one

Whispering

Excited children

Spruce needles rubbing against each other in Winter

Snowflakes softly falling

Sand trickling through fingers

Floor length gowns swirling to music in festive light

Wind in the trees

Dancing

Wildflowers in a field

Children, happy to be alive, carefree, and joyous

Fireflies in Summer's dusk

Sunbeams on the water

A heart forgiven and set free from the darkness

Eyes brimming with laughter

AHHH!

2010-05-18T21:50:00.000-04:00

Yeah. That's what I feel like. There are reasons why...

I've written a short story, Kelsey, and I want to enter it in a contest. First, though, I have to edit it - I want it to be the best it can be. Well, editing takes time, a commodity that I have in very short supply right now. So, between school work, Driver's Ed, and cooking (yes, what I cook is edible), I don't really have time to write, or edit, as much as I'd like. I've already gotten in trouble for writing when I was supposed to be doing something else.

Because the short story contest's deadline is the end of May, I'm prioritizing Kelsey over Key to Elessong, my NaNoWriMo novel. (I do seem to have a 'thing' for 'K's - a whole bunch of my characters have names that start with K: Kelsey, Kieran, Kiada, Mr. and Mrs. Klassen, to name a few). Anyway. The deadline for getting a free copy of your NaNoWriMo novel published is the middle of June. Ack! I still haven't finished my NaNo novel, and I'm only half-way through - not to mention editing! So, with the pressure of approaching deadlines, as well as end-of-school-year testing (my family tests in June), I'm feeling a bit harried right now.

On top of that, did I mention I was taking Driver's Ed? That, in and of itself, is a whole reason for me to freak out. I'm certainly old enough, and I know how to steer and all, but it's still a bit nerve racking. Oh well, I suppose if I get enough practice I'll be more confident.

Ironically enough, when we were sitting at a stoplight in the middle of town, the people right next to us didn't stop in time, which resulted in a fender-bender. It was a bit scary to hear brakes squealing and then see glass shattering and flying everywhere right next to me. Thankfully, I wasn't behind the wheel at the time. It was quite unsettling!

Back to the subject of editing - do you have any favorite editing tips, tricks, or quotes? Please, share! I'd love to hear them.

Black Feathers

2010-05-18T20:41:00.000-04:00

Black Feathers

I feel like a caged animal
Pacing back and forth in my room
Clawing at the bars to get out
But the only cage is the one in my mind
And the only bars are the ones on my soul

Black feathers, falling
I’m molting
Drooping, wilting, moody, morose
I want out of this diseased shell

Restless, my soul paces back and forth
I scream and rage
Clawing, biting, tearing
I want out, but every effort on my part
Only pushes me deeper into the darkness
Deeper into the cage I have made
With my own hands

If I bleed, will that unlock the bars that keep me here?
If scarlet pools at my feet instead of tears
Will that make me any closer to freedom?

The chains are locked around my mind
They bind and chafe
There is no escape
The physical discomfort is no match for mental agony

The sickness is myself
I cannot escape from my own self
I cannot become a disembodied spirit
Nor if I could, would it solve my problem
I am the problem

Puddles of saltwater
Do not make me any happier
Nor do they make my imprisonment more bearable

The poison in my heart runs through my veins
Black pulsing through every artery
My inescapable poison, generated in my own heart
My body is on course to destroy itself

Lies run through every limb
Curses through every appendage
The blackness festers in my heart
And it diseases my whole body

Mortality is no threat to me
I embrace the fact that life can end
But souls are immortal
And mine is full of darkness

The light shines behind me
I know it is there, but I can’t turn
I face the pool of despair and I waver
The light calls me
And I want it so badly it hurts
But I can’t turn

A prison, inescapable
Made with my own hands
My life it bleeds, my death it lusts
My soul it demands

Tell Me a Story

2010-05-09T21:52:00.000-04:00

Over at Storyteller's blog, she issued a challenge of sorts - "I am writing a short story. I have written the first paragraph and I want YOU to tell me what you would write next.
Here is the opening paragraph:
They came at night. Like gliding shadows, they slipped through the cracks in my windows and door and entered my bedroom. They moved soundlessly, and I had no idea they were coming for me. There was no time to prepare for their attack."

I couldn't resist. It's such a mysterious, gripping paragraph that simply brims with possibilities. Gliding shadows? Attack? What happens next?! I had to find out. And thus I got a little bit carried away.
(Later, upon someone mentioning that if ‘I’ didn’t know ‘they’ were coming, then ‘I’ couldn't know how ‘they’ entered the room, Storyteller added a revised first paragraph. That explains my deviations from the paragraph.)

I'm passing along Storyteller's challenge. ^.^ Take the paragraph, let it brew, and come up with an original sketch of your own. I can't wait to see what you come up with!

If your creativity is on vacation, you can meander over to Storyteller's challenge and read what others have come up with.

Sketch One: Prisoner of Darkness

They came at night. Like gliding shadows, they slipped through the cracks in my windows and door and entered my bedroom. They moved soundlessly, and I had no idea they were coming for me. There was no time to prepare for their attack.

Now, after the fact, I know that I could have been more cautious, could have fought more valiantly - but the wisp-like nature of my enemies thwarts all normal methods of resistance.

I shiver in the unfathomable dark, holding my arms close to my body for what little warmth I can conserve. Water drips somewhere, hollow plinking in some subterranean pool. The intense blackness presses on my eyes, taunting my mind with blindness.

A whisper of movement sounds near me, and I shudder, unable to see.

Shadows wrap around my body, their grip tight and choking. "You come with usssss." Their raspy voices grate on my ears. "Masssster wantss to ssssee you."

The Darkness that envelopes me is tangible. I can feel their grip, and their reek is foul on my tongue. I struggle, but to no avail. When Darkness has you in its grip, alone you are powerless.

As I struggle, their grasp tightens and my lungs scream for breath. Closing my eyes, I try to breathe, but illusions of heat and color swim under my eyelids. I cough and my head lolls back, oblivion relaxing my exhausted muscles.

Sketch Two: Writer's Narrative

They came at night. Like gliding shadows, they slipped through my door and entered my bedroom. They moved soundlessly, and I had no idea they were coming for me. There was no time to prepare for their attack.

My fingers paused, hovering over the keys as I cocked my head in thought. I wasn’t quite sure what came next, but I wanted it to be as gripping as what I had already written. My characters had come alive last night, and I’d rushed through my day so I could get back to them. Now, as my story neared its crux, every word, every sentence, was crucial and I wanted it all to be perfect. I knew that this was only my rough draft and I didn’t have to be so painstaking, but the right word can make all the difference in the world.

But my character was speaking again, and I didn’t want to miss a word.

Cold metal pressed against my neck, tipping my head back. I met the steely eyes of the man who held the knife and it took all my self-control not to quail before the rampant hate that I saw in their depths.

I shivered with excitement. This was my favorite story yet! The blue-white light from the computer screen lit my eager face as I pressed my lips together, suppressing a grin. I couldn’t wait to show it to my friends.

Words flooded my mind again, the narrative spinning its tantalizing thread through my mind’s eye.

The knife pressed harder against my neck, slicing a shallow cut in my skin. I swallowed, the movement pulsing blood onto the blade.

“We show no mercy.” My assailant’s voice was as flat as his features were impassive.

I licked my lips, silently re-avowing my determination not to tell them anything. My eyes flicked from side to side, gauging my surroundings. A man barred the door, and another the window. Two more stood to my right and left, their blades naked in their hands. Had my life been in less danger, I could have laughed. Did they truly think they needed five men to take me?

“You will give us what we want.” The knife bit deeper into my flesh.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the movement pressed the blade even closer to my throat.

“We have no scruples. Your life is as good as forfeit if you do not comply.” The knife eased a fraction of an inch, giving me enough room to talk.

“And if I do not …?”

The knife slid across my neck, leaving lines that pooled red. I flinched at the pain, thanking Yeshua that it was just skin and not my trachea.

Awarded

2010-04-30T23:36:00.000-04:00

Melody, over at Vividry, awarded me the Beautiful Blogger award. As part of the award, I have to write seven random things about myself.

I love flannel, especially plaid flannel.
Jane Austen is one of my favorite writers, and Persuasion is my favorite of her books.
I have a thing for cowboys boots.
Before I had braces, I could whistle. Now it's much more difficult - but I still can do a few bird calls.
I love trees. Yes, that sounds a bit weird, but it's true. I love to see them moving in the wind.
My favorite sound is a thunderstorm - thunder crackling and rain lashing my windowpane.
My name, Celebrilomiel, roughly translates to 'Lady of Silver Echoes'.

I'd like to present the award to:
Storyteller, over at Storyteller: A Writer's Journey and
Galadriel, at The Wordsmith's Shelf

headdesk

2010-04-15T15:39:00.002-04:00

I haven't written anything for my NaNoWriMo novel. Absolutely nothing. As an excuse - I've been busy and then was out of town this past weekend. And it's not just my creative writing that's suffering - I haven't been able to write anything that isn't school. I've barely been able to check my email. My life has been that hectic.

I'm not happy about not writing.

But...

This past weekend, Friday the ninth through Sunday the eleventh, I was on a youth retreat with my church. Medimemo, which stands for mediate and memorize, is one of my church's annual retreats. This year we memorized Jeremiah 17:5-10.

When we weren't memorizing, eating, or worshipping (sleeping doesn't count - does anyone sleep on a youth retreat?), we played four-square, the guys played football and ultimate frisbee (which is, for those of you who don't know, like football with a frisbee), and a bunch of people went canoeing on the lake. There was, of course, a water fight, which ended up with both canoes upside down and everyone in the water. It was quite amusing to watch from my high-and-dry hammock.

Now I'm back and swamped with school. Technically, the schoolwork isn't that much, but since I also spend an average of two and a half hours cooking each day, it can get kind of overwhelming. (But I am finally making mostly A's in geometry, so that's a plus).

It would help if our laptop worked... but our desktop is the only computer with a working Word program. And I can't use the desktop at night, which happens to be the only time I could possibly squeeze in some writing. Frustrating, to say in the least.

Then, to top it all off, all of my characters have been nudging me lately. All of my characters, that is, but my NaNo ones. Talk about bitter irony...

Of my restless charries, most have been elbowing me, but some have been jumping up and down on my toes and shouting in my ear. I feel helpless - I can write by hand, but that takes twice as long, and thus I lose parts of dialogue. And yet, I'm not even supposed to be thinking about their stories - just my NaNo one! I suppose this is payback for not writing any of their stories since October. November was devoted solely to NaNo, and since then I've been too busy. Anyway, I'm trying to pacify them with promises of devoted attention over the summer. (Hah!)

Hopefully, I'll be able to at least write something for my NaNo novel. We'll see...

Side note: At Medimemo, we get songs and tracks with the verses to memorize. Well, there were three hip-hop/rap songs on the Medimemo playlist. I don't like hip-hop/rap music. I just don't. I think it's the lack of actual music, because I really like rhythm. But guess what? I liked those songs - mainly for the lyrics, but hey, maybe that style of music isn't so bad after all....

Shut Us Down - Sho Baraka
Make War - Tedashii
Far Away - Lecrae

Muse and Variation

2010-04-01T19:57:00.000-04:00

Muse

Touched Up

Variation One

Variation Two

Variation Three

Variation Four

Variation Five

Variation Six

Variation Seven

Variation Eight

Variation Nine

Which is your favorite variation? Or do you like the original best?

April First

2010-04-01T15:34:00.000-04:00

Today is a day of Many Things.

Thing One: As everyone knows (or at least, it seems like everyone), it's April Fools Day. My younger sister decided to switch around the cereal, taking the bags and putting them in different boxes. Sadly (or would that be hilariously? I suppose it depends on your point of view), it didn't go over too well - my little brother got so angry when he got the wrong cereal that smoke just about came out of his ears, and when my baby sister got Honey&Rice Puffins instead of Cheerios, she started to cry. Besides the emotional breakfast, the rest of the day has gone fairly smoothly, which brings me to my next 'thing' of today.

Thing Two: Script Frenzy, the cousin of NaNoWriMo, starts today. I'd like to participate in Script Frenzy, BUT...

Thing Three: ...I need to finish my NaNoWriMo novel. So, instead of the month of April being Script Frenzy month for me, I'm calling it PeNoFiMo - Personal Novel Finishing Month. I haven't set a word count goal yet, other than to write 2,000 words per day (my average for NaNoWriMo was about 1,800).
Note: December is National Novel Finishing Month, but it's also the month of Christmas, New Year's Eve, and could rightly be called the busiest time of the year. Thus, it simply was not feasible for me to attempt to finish my novel during December.

Thing Four: To have the freedom (as in, permission) to spend such a lot of time on the computer each day (I can't write by hand because it takes too long; I have to type, or else the ideas will fly away), I have to do all of my school work and chores. Happily, I've finished all my school work for today and have the rest of the afternoon to write (except for a twenty minute break when I have to walk the dog before dinner).

Thing Five: I have a few little questions, though. Questions like: Where do I take my story? Where do I want it to go? Which character do I focus on? What will move the plot along to the finish line? What is the finish line? You know, small, little, insignificant details like that. I suppose you could say I'm having a hard time figuring out what to write. =P

So, to end this little blurb, I'll say that a) I'll keep you posted on my novel's progress (eg: how many words I accomplished per day), b) with so much creative energy being spent elsewhere, I most likely won't be very cohesive or sane for the next thirty days, and c) I'm going to be very, very busy.

Wish me luck, err, Godspeed, and if you have any editing tips, let me know. I'll be editing my novel next month. If I can finish it this month, that is.

I Lift My Eyes Up (Tags)

2010-03-23T21:17:00.071-04:00

I got tagged. And, as I'm a good sport, I'll play the game. So if I tag you, I expect you to play as well.

Music Shuffle Tag

Rules: Put your music player on shuffle. Then answer the following questions by using the title to each song that plays while on shuffle. Then tag 6 people.

Are you male or female? Lord (I Don’t Know) - Newsboys. *dies laughing* Well, that’s not exactly an accurate statement… xD

What do people feel when they are around you? Suddenly – TobyMac.

Describe your current relationship? Keep Quiet – BarlowGirl.

Where would you like to be right now? More – Matthew West. Um...kay...

How do you feel about love? Oboe Sonata in B Flat Major, RV34 – Antonio Vivaldi. Oooookay…

What's your life like? Sometimes – Skillet.

What would you wish for if you only had one wish? Always Forever – Phil Whickham. I actually don’t like that song… =P

Say something wise? This Week the Trend – Relient K. Not wise…

If someone says "Is this okay. . ." You say? Holiday – Britt Nicole.

How would you describe yourself? Beloved – Tenth Avenue North. Hah! Well… yes, maybe… if you think about the lyrics…

How do you feel today? Unseen Warriors – Michael Card. *dies laughing* Um… it’s a lullabye. But I when I go on youth retreats, the girls talk forever. So, I have a couple lullabies on my iPod, so I can listen to something other than pop or rock music when I want to sleep…

What is your life's purpose? Frail – Jars of Clay. Um, not quite…

What is your motto? While You Were Sleeping – Casting Crowns.

What do your friends think of you? Resurrect Me – Jon Foreman. *laugh*

What do you think of your parents? Jesus Loves You – Stellar Kart. He does. I do too.

What do you think of very often? Carol of the Bells – George Winston. Um, yes, actually. That’s one of my favorite Christmas songs, and I like to hum it while cooking. It’s a weird habit, but… I do.

What is 2+2? Song for the Broken – BarlowGirl.

What do you think of your best friend? Break Me Down – Tenth Avenue North. True. My best friend saved my life and adopted me. What can I say, but “I’m Yours. Break down these walls I hide behind”?

What is your life story? Devastation and Reform – Relient K. Sadly true.

What do you want to be when you grow up? Bite My Tongue – Relient K. That’s the story of my life so far, but that doesn’t mean that what I want to be.

What will you dance to at your wedding? Like a Child – Jars of Clay. Um, no. I’m sorry, but no. No, no, no. I like it, but I’m not gonna dance to it. I’m not gonna dance at my wedding, period.

What will they play at your funeral? Beginning and the End – Leeland. *snickersnort*

What is your hobby/interest? Concerto No. 2 in G Minor “Summer” – Antonio Vivaldi. Um, I’m not that into classical music. I love Switchfoot. Which makes me really surprised, because, although I have more Switchfoot than anything else on my iPod, it hasn’t played any yet. Weird, huh?

What is your biggest fear? Hot Air Balloon – Owl City. I hate heights, but I love this song. “We wrote a prelude to our own fairytale…”

What is your biggest secret? Arms of Love – Kutless.

What do you think of your friends? Awakening – Switchfoot. HAH! Finally! A Switchfoot song!

What will you re-post this as? I Lift My Eyes Up – Kutless. Okay. I’m really surprised that my iPod only played one Switchfoot song.

Tagged:
Bree-girl
Danae
Frenzy/Queen of Bubblegum Trees
Fury/Queen of Raspberry Jello
Jess
SNC/Chaos

(Incidentally, as soon as all the questions ended, my iPod played several Switchfoot songs. What are the odds?!)

Live In A Book Tag

Rules: Name eight books you'd like to live in for a week, and then tag eight people.

You might wonder why I some of my very favorite books (like Lord of the Rings) are not on this list. Well, if I have to live in the book, I'd prefer not to die. Ya know?

In no particular order:
1. The Chestnut King (N.D. Wilson) – Such an awesome book. And… I’d love to meet Monmouth in person. He’s so cool.

2. The Berinfell Prophecies series (Wayne Thomas Batson and Christopher Hopper) - You gotta love elves. And librarians. And Mr. Charlie. If I could live in The Curse of the Spider King, I'd give Mr. Charlie a hug. And Jimmy, and KiriLee, and the other elf lords, and... and... Just read the books!!!

3. An Old Fashioned Girl (Louisa May Alcott) – Probably my favorite of Miss Alcott’s books. I love Polly, she’s such a dear. And I'd love to meet Tom and Maude in person.

4. Leepike Ridge (N.D. Wilson) – It’s such a cool book. It starts out fairly normal, maybe almost boring, but then it takes a hairpin curve! And before you realize it, it isn’t a walk in the park – it’s a rollercoaster! <3 I'd love to live in it...

5. Mr. Pipes series (Douglas Bond) – I love hymns, but I love them even more after reading this series. Mr. Pipes, Dr. Dudley, Annie, and Drew are lovable, realistic characters, and their adventures are great! Mr. Bond is a great author, and you can feel the rain, smell the crumpets and tea, and hear the crackling fire. If I lived there... Oh, wonderful! Sail on the Great Ouse, visit Reformation sites, travel New England, explore the catacombs. Though, like Annie, I wouldn't particularly want to eat fish...

6. Airman (Eoin Colfer) - Probably my favorite of Mr. Colfer's books. It gets creepy at times, but Conor is so ingenious, and he has such totally awesome adventures. I wouldn't want to mine diamonds underwater, but other than that... *shivers with excitement*

7. Enoch’s Ghost (Bryan Davis) - I think this is my favorite of the Oracles of Fire series. It features Ashley, Walter, and Sapphira, and as Ashley and Walter are my favorite characters, it makes sense that I'd like it. Anyhoo. Though there's danger at every turn, the Caitiff, the Nephilim, all sorts of stuff... Larry, Walter, and Ashley are worth it. Far worth it. And I'd get to meet Gabriel, too. <3

8. In Freedom’s Cause: a story of Wallace and Bruce (G.A. Henty) - Yes, it's full of battles. Yes, I'd probably die if I entered that world, because I can't weild a sword or string a bow. But to meet William Wallace and Robert de Bruce... it's worth it. And Scotland is wonderful. And there are such adventures.

Tagged:
Frenzy/Queen of Bubblegum Trees
Fury/Queen of Raspberry Jello
Jess
Madeline
Millard
Nathan
Seth
SNC/Chaos

The Intent of a Character

2010-03-16T20:35:00.000-04:00

Lately, I've been going through a lot of stuff. It’s been chaotic, to say the least. I’ve been trying to help a friend with something that I, too, struggle with. I’ve been frustrated with my circumstances and mad at my life. This has led to melancholy feelings and more frustration – a vicious circle. But I’ve noticed – when I get down, when I’m struggling, I will be reminded of God's sovereignty.

It keeps happening – I hear it on Sunday, or I’ll read it in a book. A friend will mention it on their blog or in a conversation. I’ll be outside, brooding over my feelings or my situation, when I’ll look up at the sky and I’ll remember.

God created the entire world and planned everything out before time. He numbered every breath I would take before I was born; He fashioned every part of my being, gave me my personality, my feelings, for a special purpose that He designed specifically for me. He knew that I’d feel like this, and He has a reason for it.

He plotted my days with intention. I am a character in the greatest story – His story. I stumble in my role – but the stumbles are written into the script. I falter with my lines, but the Author knew I would. He wrote my slips and hesitations into the story for a purpose, a reason. All I can see is the word right in front of me, while He can see the entire script – not just my lines, but the whole story from start to finish.

He crafted my character with a goal in mind, a goal that He wrote for me to accomplish. I don’t know what that particular objective is; I don’t know His aim for my character. I don’t know how my character’s story ends. But I do have the Director’s notes – the Bible. And from reading His words to me, learning from His coaching and His example, I know that my general reason for life is to bring praise to the Author.

In a story, the intent of the character is to teach a lesson to the other characters or the reader. In doing so, the character fulfills the purpose of the author. In fulfilling the author’s purpose, the character brings glory to the author.

There are main characters – the ones everyone knows; there are supporting characters – the ones who support the main characters, but aren’t focused on; and then there are those characters that you only see a glimpse of before the camera moves on. But each of those characters, even the ones only seen for a few seconds, is important to the story. If one of them was missing, there would be a problem. You can’t film a movie without extras. You can’t write a book without having crowds of people to make a busy street.

All of the characters are known to the Author, who places them there for a reason. Each has a specific position to fill.

So if I’m a character in the Story, my end purpose as a character is to glorify my Author. As I progress through my script, taking each word as it comes, the Director will reveal His purpose for me, how my character functions in the story. Though I might not play a large role, my character is crucial to the story. I’m breathing for a reason.

You see, God only gives breath to those He wants to live, those whom He has a purpose for, those who are still in the story. If my part in the story was over, if my character’s purpose is filled or no longer needed, then why would the Author still give me breath? For He wouldn’t create a character with no purpose. So if I’m breathing, I have something yet to do, lines yet to be said. Because I can draw my next breath, I have a use in this world. I have an objective to fulfill. Part of my character’s story is to figure out what that objective is.

How can I do that? Well, I study the notes from the Director. He’ll show me what I need to do when the time comes.

There is a reason for everything, because God, the Author and Creator of all things, is a God who delights in details, in reasons, in order, and in truth. He is sovereign – He governs all things.

“For by Him all things were created, whether things in heaven or on earth, visible or invisible, whether thrones, or powers, or rulers, or authorities, all things were created by Him and for Him. He is before all things and in Him all things hold together.” - Colossians 1:16-17

The Final Storm

2010-03-07T16:40:00.000-05:00

Probably my favorite of Mr. Batson's The Door Within trilogy, The Final Storm grabs you with action and won't let go. Without being extremely tense, it is still a page-turner, and a good one at that. Though the entire trilogy is allegorical, the Biblical allegory is most apparent in this, the final book. Two of my favorite characters, Robby and Trenna, appear in larger roles, and many of the plot threads left hanging are tied.

Though Mr. Batson's style is aloof at times, leaving the feelings of the characters to carry the book, the characters are up to the task. 'Never alone' becomes your favorite password, and 'righ-ight' will forever remind you of Robby.

My review:

Picking up right where its prequel, The Rise of the Wyrm Lord, left off, The Final Storm plunges headfirst into hair-raising action.

Ancient prophecy collides with lies as treachery and deceit poison minds and grapple with faith.

Battle looms on the horizon – a dreadful and final war. Paragor amasses his forces, including the Wyrm Lord and the Seven Sleepers, and undercover of the mysterious Black Breath, they march on Alleble.

Old and new friends unite to clash against Paragor and the Wyrm Lord, but the fate of all hinges upon the Three Witnesses of ancient prophecy.

In a stunning, climatic finale to a wonderful trilogy, Mr. Batson outdoes himself. My only complaint is that it all went by too quickly. One part that I especially like is the names and meanings of the Seven Swords.

Intense action alleviated throughout with humor, bound with through-provoking allegory, and filled with memorable characters – The Final Storm is an amazing book that you will never regret reading.

The Rise of the Wyrm Lord

2010-02-25T16:50:00.005-05:00

The Rise of the Wyrm Lord, author Wayne Thomas Batson's second book, is an action-packed, thrilling sequel to The Door Within. It introduces a new main character, Antoinette, and takes you back to Alleble. Though I've wondered if it was possible, the action is even more intense in this book than the first, and the stakes are raised dramatically. The Rise of the Wyrm Lord is a wonderful sequel to a fantasy series already off to a great start.

If you're buying the book, be sure to get the 'Lost Chapters' edition, which includes 'deleted scenes' that had to be cut from the final manuscript. The Lost Chapters also contains commentaries by the author, explaining why the chapters were cut and what they had been intended to accomplish.

My review:

Antoinette Reed has always been smart. She’s in honors everything at school, and she’s been a follower of King Eliam since she was seven. When she sees the artwork of new kid at school, Aidan Thomas, she realizes that he, also, knows about The Realm. They become friends, and when they recognize that she has been called to The Realm, Aidan asks her to look for the glimpse of his friend, Robby, who he fears is in league with Paragor.

When she enters The Realm, Antoinette plunges into adventures like she’s only dreamed of. Though she is named Twelfth Knight on a crucial, diplomatic mission to Yewland, she loses sight of the objective and deviates from her assignment, raising all the stakes. She goes after Kearn, Robby’s glimpse, attempting to turn him away from his glittering path of destruction and to King Eliam.

When Paragor releases the capstone of his plan, The Realm is plunged into a fierce battle for survival.

In this, his second book, Mr. Batson’s writing style has matured and the entire flow of the writing is of a higher caliber than its prequel. Throughout the whole book, the action and suspense only intensifies. Be forewarned – the book ends at a monstrous cliffhanger. Be sure to have the sequel, The Final Storm, on hand when you finish!

The Door Within

2010-02-22T20:53:00.000-05:00

Wayne Thomas Batson's first book, The Door Within, is a great addition to the fantasy genre. Filled with action, humor, and allegory, it is a splendid start to the trilogy. As the book progresses, the action only increases, and the ending is awesome.

If you're buying the book, be sure to get the 'Lost Chapters' edition, which includes 'deleted scenes' that had to be cut from the final manuscript. The Lost Chapters also contains commentaries by the author, explaining why the chapters were cut and what they had been intended to accomplish.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book, and I really liked the allegorical elements throughout. It's one book that you will not regret reading!

My review:

“Adventures are funny things, and they always begin with the unexpected. But the best adventures of all are the ones that never end.”

So Aidan Thomas learns when he is swept into the adventure of a lifetime.

When his parents decide to move from Maryland to Colorado to take care of Grampin, his grandfather, Aidan is devastated. But a series of strange events leads him to a whole new world.

The Realm, land of dragons, knights, and raw adventure. Called by the King, Aidan is immediately whisked into adventure after adventure as the knights faithful to the one true king attempt to defeat the evil Paragor.

Between rigorous training, lethal treachery, moonrascal tunnels, and thrilling battles, unlikely hero Aidan learns of King Eliam and sacrificial love.

Wayne Thomas Batson’s debut novel is an exciting fantasy story full of truth, laughter, and adventure.

You are never alone.

Are You Ready to Die Tonight for what You Believe?

2010-02-19T19:26:00.001-05:00

I recently came across some songs that really make you think.

They aren't 'new', in the technical sense of the word - they came out a couple years ago - and neither are the ideas which they express 'new'. Such ideas have been around for over two thousand years.

Most songs in the 'Christian' music industry stick to the happy, fuzzy lyrics that encourage you, that make you feel good. A lot of their lyrics are kind of shallow.

Now, I'm not saying that Christian music is shallow. Sometimes, someone comes along who has a heart for God and a way with words. But a lot of the time, the songs are just smiley choruses to sing in the car - they don't challenge you. That's one reason why I like the old hymns - they have deep truths and they challenge you. The hands-in-the air choruses nowadays might make you feel good, but they rarely challenge you.

Which is why I like these two particular songs. They really do challenge you. Now, they're rock songs. Not church songs. So maybe my little rant about warm and fuzzy church songs is a little out of place. But when rock songs challenge you to live for God and 'church' songs don't really do that... I think we might a have problem.

Anyway....

The songs ask you if you're willing to die for what you believe, willing to stand out and be ridiculed. Are you willing to cross the line and take the chance that you're going to be shot down?

I know that here, in America, we have freedom of religion. For now, at least.

There are plenty of people who cry for 'tolerance', when all they want to do is shut up the truth. Because the truth is light, and the darkness hates the light. They call the truth 'hate-speech'. We're the 'bad guys', because we believe that life is sacred instead of believing that ending life is a 'right'. That people should have the choice to kill if life inconveniences them. They hate us, because we tell the truth. They are doing everything they can to silence us. To silence the truth. However, "The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it."

But just because we have the freedom to worship as we please doesn't mean that we aren't going to have to 'cross the line'. At school, at work, at home - how you live, what you say, what you do: what are you doing? Are you following everyone else? Are you normal, do you blend in? Because as Christians, we aren't called to blend in. We're called to stand out. Even, and especially, if we get ridiculed for it.

To the world, we look like fools. Idiots. Weak people who need the crutch of a Superior Being to live. We look like people who can't think for ourselves - we eat what we're given. But... is that true? And if it isn't true, why does the world think that?

Are we trying to blend in? To be safe? Are we 'protecting' ourselves by following the crowd? Numerous times, I've heard the excuse, "Well, I don't know if they'd want to be my friend any more if I talked about God and stuff." I can't count how many times I've heard it. Or how many times I've said it.

Cowards. That's what we are. We're letting people, people we call our friends, die. Without throwing them a lifeline. It's in our hands. We have the choice to stand up and stand out and hold out life. But we're scared that they won't like us.

If they don't want to be your friend because you believe differently than they do and you're outspoken about your beliefs, that's their problem. If they reject Jesus Christ, that's between them and God. They are responsible for their own actions. But you are responsible for yours. What are you going say if they die without you ever speaking a word about the truth to them? What's your excuse?

Scream - Jonah33

Scream at the top of ya lungs
If you're ready to die tonight, to die tonight
For what you believe

What's going on?
Where have all our voices gone and why are we afraid of words like war?
Need I remind you that we are an army and armies engage
Yes, armies engage when the threat is too much to ignore
Sounds like we should sound the alarm

Scream at the top of ya lungs if you're ready to die tonight
To die tonight for what you believe
Time isn't on our side- and we're on our side, it never has been a friend of mine
So just scream with me if you're ready to die tonight for what it is you believe

Don't look now but somehow our worst enemies have found a way inside these walls we made
These are the moments the define us as cowards or men full of valor
So shut up and fight and don't let them know you're afraid
I'm not one to lay down and die

Scream at the top of ya lungs if you're ready to die tonight
To die tonight for what you believe
Time isn't on our side - and we're on our side, it never has been a friend of mine
So scream with me if you're ready to die tonight for what it is you believe

Cross the Line - Superchick

Follow the leader, stay in the lines
What will people think of what you've done this time?
Go with the crowd, surely somebody knows
Why we're all wearing the emperor's clothes

Play it safe, play by the rules
Or don't play at all, what if you lose?
That's not the secret, but I know what is
Everybody dies but not everyone lives

I'm gonna ride like I've got the cops on my tail
I'm gonna live my life like I'm out on bail
I'm gonna be out front, gonna blaze a trail
I'm gonna cross that line

Everybody freeze, don't step over the line
Don't stand up, they'll shoot down the first one who tries
Try to change the world, they'll think you're out of your mind
Revolutions start when someone crosses the line

They want us to lie down, give into the lie
"Nothing has to change, and no one has to die"
That's not the secret, but I know what is:
Everybody dies, but not everyone lives

If you want to, you can listen to Scream and Cross the Line on Youtube.
If you like that sort of music, you might want to check out my playlist, which contains those and similar songs.

Isle of Fire

2010-02-16T10:00:00.003-05:00

Isle of Fire, the second book in Wayne Thomas Batson's pirate duo, is as good or better than its prequel. If you thought that Isle of Swords had action, just wait until you read Isle of Fire! A descendant of Erik the Red, underwater labyrinthian tunnels, Beserkers, London in flames, a battle in the middle of a hurricane... and that's not the half of it!

Isle of Fire

Picking up where it’s prequel, Isle of Swords, left off, Isle of Fire plunges right into the action.

After the terrible flood in New Providence, pirate Bartholomew Thorne escaped prison and is now on the loose. With new-found allies, he is planning a devilish attack on England, bent on slaking his revenge-thirst with the destruction of his enemies.

A new enemy has arisen and joined forces with Thorne, and it will take all the combined strength of Declan Ross, The Brethren, and the British Navy to defeat the two. The Merchant is as evil as they come: cunning, deceitful, and ruthless. He strikes a bargain with Thorne, giving him information and requiring his son, Cat, in return.

Cat is a teenager with amnesia and terrible mental and physical scars. He struggles with his memory loss, snippets of his old life taunting him at every turn. He fears that he is just like his father, the infamous Thorne. Growing up steeped in bloodshed, he fears losing control and killing senselessly, like his father.

Called back to England, Commodore Blake, his wife Dolphin, and orphan Hopper search Dolphin’s father’s mansion, looking for some clue to unravel the mystery of her past. When they appear at court, a traitor in league with Thorne perfidiously accuses Blake, twisting words and facts, resulting in him being stripped of his rank and command, and is all but prisoner.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, Anne, Cat, and a handful of others are trapped in the Merchant’s undersea labyrinth with death just around the corner.

The characters are realistically drawn, and the action is exhilarating. The love between Dolphin and Blake is a sweet, genuine portrayal of marriage, and adoption is handled in a heart-warming way. The plot is extraordinarily well constructed, and its twists and turns hold you spellbound, wondering how it will end.

A stunning tale of pirates, treachery, and valor, Isle of Fire is a thrilling book filled with never-ceasing action.

Isle of Swords

2010-02-15T21:31:00.005-05:00

Isle of Swords, by Wayne Thomas Batson, is one of my favorite action/adventure books. Spiced with laughter and a touch of mystery, once you start reading it, it's almost impossible to put down.

When I first read Isle of Swords, I was reading before bed and when it was time for lights out, I kept reading. I reached a funny part and laughed so hard that my mom came into the room. So much for reading under the covers, eh? (That's just to prove my point that it's hard to put down - I don't advise you to try it at home.)

Now for my 'official' review:

Isle of Swords

Declan Ross never wanted to be a pirate. But when cast off by the navy, he had no choice but to reluctantly turn to piracy. Now he has two goals: to gather enough treasure to free himself and his daughter from the sweet trade, and to keep Anne, his daughter, from becoming a pirate. It’s harder than you might think.

Feisty, red-headed Anne wants to be a pirate more than anything else, and she and her father are constantly butting heads over the fact. She won’t be content until he lets her sign the articles.

A teenage boy awakes on an island, seriously injured, in extreme pain, and without any memory of who he is or how he got there. In his hand he holds a leather pouch – is it the key to his past or to his future?

A mysterious monk with a dark secret sets Captain Ross and his crew on a treasure hunt that will either set them free or send them to the bottom of the sea.

Constantine’s treasure, hidden on the lethal Island of Swords, is well nigh impossible to reach. But with the help of the boy without a memory, a fighting monk who knows pain like his middle name, and a greedy trader, Ross just might be able to reach the treasure.

But Thorne is after the treasure as well. He will stop at nothing to thwart Ross and claim the extraordinary treasure for his own.

A daring strategy and a choice to trust one who might not prove trustworthy brings the action-packed book to an adrenaline-filled conclusion.

Isle of Swords is full of colorful, engaging characters – like Jacques St. Pierre, the Frenchman who owns a powder mill and might be just a tad bit crazy, or Nubby, the cook, famous (or would that be infamous?) for his iguana stew.

Intense adventure coupled with hearty laughs makes this swashbuckling tale a winning story. Now one of my favorite books, Isle of Swords gripped me from the first page. I couldn’t put it down!

Bottled Inside

2010-02-15T14:40:00.001-05:00

Bottled Inside

You always hide your emotions
Never seem to cry
Always smiling, never down
You keep it bottled up inside

When you bottle up your tears
Behind a mask of smiles
And you stow away your fears
Its hurts you deeply and yet you hide it

You smile and laugh in the face of your pain
I can’t tell whether you’re wise or a fool
But you distance yourself
And hide your feelings
From the ones who care
Or could love you

Wounds deeper than the skin
Etched on your heart
You smile back
But the pain in your eyes you hide
Unwilling to cry

You want to stop
Just to give up and yet you keep
Pushing on through the dark
Tired of life feeling meaningless
You store the pain within
With darkness and tears bottled inside

You feel like such a fool
A hypocrite, you can’t do things right
You feel life is so cruel
You want to stop
You want to give up
But you won’t admit defeat
You can’t find the light
You’re tired of life
But death has too great a cost

I’ll hold back the darkness
If it tears me to shreds, I don’t mind
Just run to the light
And don’t keep it all
Bottled inside

© Celebrilomiel 2010

The Wind

2010-01-31T12:00:00.001-05:00

The wind rakes its fingers through your hair. It flirts with wind chimes, sending them into a wild confused jangle. It claws at your clothes, pushing you here and there.

Dry brown leaves skitter across the asphalt, running helter-skelter before the wind.

The trees lash in the wind, bending and roaring in the stronger gusts and whispering reproachfully in the milder.

A heavy blanket of clouds scuds across the moon, but every now and then the moon peeks between the gaps, thrusting fingers of pale, silver-cold light onto the earth.

The turbulent wind pauses, as if listening for its own echo, and then, not satisfied with the scattered bits of chaos it leaves in its wake, it returns again, back with a vengeance. It whispers, brushing against branches and kissing the cheeks of lingering leaves. Or it roars, lashing out against all that stands upright, resisting its power.

Feral. Wild. Untamed.

It sends waves across puddles, cresting them only to fragment onto asphalt.

Stars, tiny bight baubles here, but blazing suns in another world, get glimpses of the ground when the wind parts the clouds.

The moon finds a threadbare spot in the clouds where it can peek through the wisps of infant rain and it casts a red-rainbow aura.

The wind tears through the streets, colliding with flickering streetlights, and whips itself around and through trees.

It tangles your hair and reddens your cheeks, fierce and feral as it coasts through empty streets.

It is the middle of the night and all sane folk are abed. But you are awake and stand in the open, contesting the wind.

It knifes through you, and you smile and laugh. You throw your arms wide and spin.

“Take me with you,” you cry into the empty street. “Let me ride you, just this once.”

You throw your challenge to the wind. “Let me feel your power!”

The wind laughs in your face and dances on, unheeding, uncaring, untamed.

Feral and aloof, it goes wherever it wishes. Whither, it cares not, as long as it is free to roam.

You cannot harness the wind, you know, it whispers in your ear, chilling your skin with its breath.

I am free to do as I please, it screams, grinning wildly, showing its teeth.

A beast, is the wind. Reckless, heedless, caring naught for any but its own fiendish pleasure. It ices the blood, splinters trees, and raises the seas, tossing them upon the rocks. It laughs at the sun, knowing that it can play all night when the sun has to sleep. It rakes its fingers through water, sand, and trees, grinning with glee as the earth tosses and turns restlessly under its playful teasing. It roars in the trees, laughing at the noise it causes. Its teeth are flecked with blood as it sends ships to their doom and carries waves upon land where they do not belong.

The birds sigh and turn in their nests as the winds shakes the very foundations of their homes.

Play with me, the wind commands the trees, and then whips them into submission.

Run! the wind calls to the clouds, and sends them scurrying off in compliance.

The moon smiles and shakes its silvery head as it watches the wind at its antics.

The wind prowls through the earth, tossing things every which way. It plies its trade in all parts of the earth, spreading chaos and leaving shambles in its wake.

Some places are strong and resist, so the wind shrugs, knowing that one day their strength will be gone and they will crumble to dust and the wind will frolic in their ashes. It doesn’t mind the wait. It roams, going whither it wishes, needing no master.

But, ai, it has one.

Wind-tamer, the One Who tames the wind. He constructs each of the wind's brutish revelries, designs each frolic, and gives each breath. He plots its course and knows each roar and whisper. It comes when He calls and quiets at His voice. No mere creature can He be, this tamer of the wind.

Nay, not creature but Creator. For who can harness the wind but the One who designed it? Who but its Maker can rein it in and keep it from going too far? Who sets its boundaries, plots its course, and looses it to run over the face of the earth? Only its Master, the sole tamer of the wind.

Insomniac Poetry, part two

2010-01-30T11:19:00.000-05:00

Moondance

Moon, moon
Silver spoon
Hanging up in the sky
Look down in my room
A merry tune
Dance with me tonight

Moon, moon
Daylight soon
Soon will come to play
And on her loom
A story of doom
She weaves the end of days

Moonshine
Look at the time!
Time is now for parting
You and I
Say goodbye
The ending tune is starting

Moon, moon
You leave my room
Dark without your light
But soon, soon
Another tune
We’ll dance another night

Flicker On Again

Paper star
Flicker on
Flicker on
Again

Paper gold
Glitter tears
Flicker on again

Paper star
Hanging there
Flimsy paper star

Flicker on
Flicker off
Flicker on
Again

© Celebrilomiel 2010

Insomniac Poetry, part one

2010-01-26T19:55:00.001-05:00

Paper Heart

Pretty lacy paper
Frail pink heart
Delicate, blushing flower
Spring’s first kiss

Vivid, cheery paper
Bright pink heart
Heavy-scented, open rose
Summer’s warmth

Tattered, dirty paper
Torn pink heart
Bloodied, trampled, fallen rose
Fall’s last breath

Shredded, frozen paper
Dead pink heart
Winter’s icy, fatal touch
Death’s cold kiss

© 2010, Celebrilomiel

Exploring with a Camera

2010-01-23T22:05:00.004-05:00

Today, I was walking the dog, when I saw something I wanted to take a picture of, and remembered that I had been wanting to take some pictures of certain things for several days. So I ran back to the house to get the camera. Camera in tow, I was half-way down the street when I realized that the batteries were dying. So I ran back to get batteries. By then, the sun had shifted, and I couldn't get the picture I had wanted.

However, I did get some pictures. They aren't as good as I'd like... I'm an amatuer, to say in the least. I see photogenic things, I just have trouble catching them on film.

Anyway, I was gallivanting around the woods across from my house, and ran afoul of a thorn bush. It was quite ironic, really, because I had just written about one of my characters getting into a thorn bush. I suppose he was having his revenge. My jeans still have thorns in them, and my thumb is still a little sore, but it's nothing compared to what he went through.

Some of the pictures are blurry, but with a dog on a leash tugging on one arm, it's kind of hard to get good pictures. I'm glad to finally be able to have gotten these - I had wanted to take them several days ago, but ran into difficulty after difficulty, and since then it has rained. Though it was still quite muddy, today was nice and clear, and I could snap to my heart's content.

I used http://www.picnik.com/ to adjust exposure levels in some of the photos. If you click on the images, you should be able to view them in a larger size.

These two are of a puddle near my house. It's a giant puddle, and can take up half of the road if we get a good rain. I love the reflections, especially when you can see both the reflection and the ground underneath.

This one is in the woods across the street from my house. I like the way it looks, with the two big trees perpendicular to each other.

This one struck my fancy because the barbed wire was coming out of the tree. Obviously, someone stuck it there a while ago, but it looks pretty cool now.

Here's another puddle reflection one. It has a leaf floating in it, but it's face-down, so you can't see the color.

The setting sun from between trees and over the fence.

My neighbor's roses. It's January, but we had a warm spell a week or so ago, and they were tricked into blooming. Now that the cold is back, they're fading. Those are leaves in the foreground of the first picture.

Some English Ivy on the fence.

I love to see the sunset when I walk the dog each evening. Today's was nothing unusually spectacular - no brilliant oranges or pinks - but I took a few pictures anyway. I love the silhouettes of the leaf-less trees against the setting sun.

Curse of the Spider King

2010-01-12T18:37:00.004-05:00

This past October, Curse of the Spider King, written by Wayne Thomas Batson and Christopher Hopper, two of my favorite authors, came out. I was finally able to buy it October thirty-first. Once I started it, I couldn't put it down. I skipped dinner and read for several hours straight, finishing at about eleven P.M. Then I wanted to read it over again.

Needless to say, it was an enthralling book. I can hardly wait for the sequel, Venom and Song, which comes out early summer of this year.

The two authors are having a contest for readers, in which the readers receive points for promoting the book. A post on Mr. Batson's blog explains the challenge. I'm on the tribe Silvertree, which is one of the leading tribes. To find out more about the Berinfell Challenge, you can go to The Underground.

And now for my review.

Spiders. No one really likes spiders. Little creepy, crawly things that spin webs; get in your house; and the worst thought of all: they drink the blood of their prey. Ick!

But what else can spiders do? Well, the new book by authors Wayne Thomas Batson and Christopher Hopper literally opens up a whole new world.

The Spider King holds an ancient grudge against the Elves and desires to destroy their homes, their culture, and their world. He amasses forces to consume all of Allyra. After murdering the seven Elven lords, nothing now stands between the Elves and the destruction of the Spider King but seven tiny babies, the firstborns of the Elf Lords – the last hope of the Elves.

Though commanded to kill the babes, the Spider King’s assassins do not, in fear of the ancient curse that protects the firstborn Elf Lords. Instead, they hide children on Earth, deciding to kill them once they reach the age of reckoning and are no longer under the curse’s protection.

Years pass, and the Spider King’s minions enter Earth again, this time for blood. However, the Elves are also searching for the children, as the preservation of their race hinges on the return of the Lords to Allyra. But if the Spider King’s minions find the lords first, all hope for the Elves will vanish.

The race is on. Adventure awaits.

The Curse of the Spider King is masterfully written, weaving together colorful plots and genuine, engaging characters.

The seven teenagers are just like any kid you might find in any middle school. They have their faults, their hurts, their dreams. As diverse as they come, you have Tommy, curly-haired and unremarkable; Kat, rich but friendless; Kiri Lee, a musical prodigy; Jett, a star football player; Jimmy, a lonely, unloved orphan; and Johnny and Autumn, your average siblings.

The adults in the book are refreshingly smart and honorable, unlike most portrayed in books and movies nowadays. They deserve your respect and they exceed your expectations. Witty at times, but strong and dependable, the teachers and librarians are true friends to the seven teens.

Beautiful description paints the scenes of the book with vivid color, while adrenaline-filled car chases, battle scenes, and midnight escapes grip you and draw you in.

Sprinkled with a good dose of laughs, this book will have you chuckling over and over again. One thing is for sure: you will never view free soda the same way again.

The Curse of the Spider King will mesmerize you, each hair-raising plot twist pulling you deeper and deeper into the amazing struggles and heroic victories of the seven Elven Lords.

Endurance and Victory.

Spring and Summer - a review

2010-01-03T17:38:00.001-05:00

This past Thursday, my mom, siblings, and I were out running errands. At LifeWay, I got Jon Foreman's album 'Spring and Summer'.

Jon Foreman, the lead singer of the band Switchfoot, has three solo albums, 'Fall and Winter', 'Spring and Summer', and 'Leaves and Branches', which is a collection of songs from the other two albums as well as a few new ones.

I really like Mr. Foreman's work, and this double-disc album is no exception. His lyrics are thought-provoking and flowing, as usual, and his melodies are beautiful.

In 'Spring and Summer', he includes several songs based off different passages from the Bible, mostly Psalms. 'Your Love Is Strong', his radio single, echoes the Lord's Prayer, and then recites it at the end of the track.

Some of my favorite lyrics from 'Your Love is Strong'.
So why should I worry?
Why do I freak out?
God knows what I need
You know what I need!
...
The kingdom of the Heavens
Is buried treasure
Would you sell yourself
To buy the one you've found
...
Two things You told me
That You are strong
And You love me
Yes, You love me

'Summer' gets even deeper into theology.

'Resurrect Me' talks about wanting to die to self. "I've become the empty shell/ Of a man I don't like so well/ I am a living, breathing hell/ Come on and resurrect me!" and then a later chorus, "I've become the shell of a man/ I can't begin to understand/ Have I forgotten who I am?/ Come on and resurrect me!"

Then in 'Instead of a Show', Mr. Foreman expresses his dislike of the hypocrisy and show that so many Christians put on display on Sunday mornings.
"I hate all your show and pretense/ The hypocrisy of your praise/ The hypocrisy of your festivals/ ... Your eyes are closed when you're praying/ You sing along with the band/ You shine up your shoes for services/ But there's blood on your hands."
What should we be doing, then?
"Instead let there be a flood of justice/ An endless procession of righteous living/ ... Instead of a show/ ... Give love to the ones who can't love at all/ Give hope to the ones who got no hope at all/ Stand up for the ones who can't stand at all/ Instead of a show."

'The House of God Forever' is a beautiful rendition of the Twenty-Third Psalm. 'Again' is a exquisite prayer to God, echoing many of the Psalms.

Oh Lord, God of our fathers
This day, let it be known
That You, Lord,
Are God of the present tense

Oh Lord, Father of history
This day, let it be known
That You, Lord,
Are present in our human events

Answer me, Oh Lord
Let Your people know
That You're turning our hearts
Back to You... Again

Curse of the Spider King Promo Video

2010-01-02T19:13:00.003-05:00

For the past several days, I've been working on a video for the book Curse of the Spider King by authors Wayne Thomas Batson and Christopher Hopper.

Wonderful Little Creatures

2009-12-27T14:08:00.002-05:00

Siblings are wonderful... most of the time. As the oldest in my family, I have moments where my siblings are the most precious thing in my life... and then I have moments where I'd like to sell them on Ebay.
Today, Sunday the twenty-seventh, I was taking care of my youngest sibling, my three year old sister, right after the church service, while our mother was doing something. We were sitting on the floor with my sister's bag and stuff around us.

She leans back against the wall and whines, "I'm hungry!"
"So am I," I rejoin.
"But I'm hungry!"
"I know. You just said that."
"But I'm hungry! I wanna snack." She perks up. "Can I have a snack?"
I hunt through her bag, but there's no snack - just a change of clothes. "There's no snack in your bag, Squeak."
"But I'm hungry!" she wails.
"I know. But there's no snack in here. You'll have to wait until we get to the car."
"But I'm hungry! I want to eat!"
I hunt through the bag again. "Squeaky, there's only wipes and clothes in here."
She leans back agaisnt the wall, moaning and groaning.
"Do you want some wipes?"
She looks at me, confused, wondering if she heard right. "What?"
"Do you want to eat some wipes?"
"No." She stares at me condescendingly and in a slightly worried manner.
"Why not? Aren't you hungry?"
"Yes."
"Then why don't you eat some wipes?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Cause... cause... cause they aren't eating."
"Why aren't they for eating?"
My baby sister looks at me like I really have lost my mind. "Because," she says slowly, "they... aren't... eating." She looks at me, trying to see if I understand.
"But why?" I ask again. "Why aren't they for eating?" Hey, I know the conversation is kinda repetitive, but it's keeping her from whining.
She's confused now. Surely her big, older sister knows why... and especially so, since she did just explain. How can she do any better? "They aren't for eating because they aren't eating."
"They aren't for eating because they're not food."
My sister nods, relieved to see that I grasp the concept. "Can I have a snack?"
I pull the wipes box out of the bag. "Do you want wipes?"
"No!" She grins, now knowing that I'm joking.
"What about.... this plastic bag?"
"No!" Giggles.
"Maybe... this coin purse?"
"No!"
"What about a change of clothes?"
"I can't eat clothes!"
I search the bottom of the bag, now empty. Hmm... what else can I utilize? "How about your coloring page? Do you want to eat your coloring page?"
She glares at me. "No!"
"Well....."
Mom walks up.
"Mommy!" My sister throws herself at Mom's legs. "I'm hungry!"

Winter

2009-12-21T22:56:00.001-05:00

Winter - the frosty clouds of breath in the air, the wind reddening cheeks and noses, the pinch of cold in one's lungs. Dark skeletons of trees against the sky, mouldering piles of dead-brown, fallen leaves, and the low grey clouds that hint of snow.

While not my favorite month of the year, I still enjoy the poetry of winter. I appreciate the fact that things must die before they can live again, and winter is that part of the cycle - death. Plants 'die', going into the dormant stage, where nothing grows. The grass fades from a lush, verdant green to a dull, greying brown. The cold is bitter, the wind is harsh, the elements unforgiving. One should dress warmly, or the cold shall seep into your bones, holding you tight in its chilling grasp.

But always after winter and death, there is the promise of spring and new life again. Flowers, daring and brazen, push their colorful heads from beneath layers of frozen earth and snow, urging the blanket of white to melt and disappear. The early spring flowers are conquorers, daring to face the bitter winter and demand that it give way to pleasant spring. Dying on the battle lines, frost etching their cold petals, they make way for the rest of the flowers. Most of the first flowers are hardy enough that the outlast any artillary with which Winter can blast them, while others must fight the instinctive urge to bow and succumb to the wind and rage of winter's ice.

Winter's cold is bitter, and most animals burrow away, sleeping until spring returns. Others thrive on winter's chill, like the chickadees, bright and cheerful, black and gray against a white backdrop of snow. The green growing things have winter-lovers, too. The bright nandinas and the holly plants glow with a red and green fervor that rivals the Christmas lights. While other trees drop their leaves, shivering naked in the cold, evergreens keep their needles, dark sprucey green against the grays and whites of winter.

Many people hate the cold, the death, the cheerless grey of sky and earth. But when it snows, a white blanket covers the earth, giving the world a sense of peace, of unity. It as though the universe bows to a greater cause, bending its knee to the Creator who fashioned each lilting crystal flake by hand.

Snow always reminds me of the One who created it. Unsullied, it hides the grey and brokeness of the frozen ground, blanketing all things in a uniform white. It softens the edges of the world and muffles the hurried sounds of life. As it sparkles in the light, each flake unique, and yet all together one, in awe I whisper, "Emmanuel." God with us. Here to dwell. White and spotless, innocent. The Lamb of God, come to take away the sin of the world.

Wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. Wash me, and I will be made whole.

Clean, pure snow is a sparkling white. And yet with the crimson blood of Emmanuel, Messiah, your soul can be whiter than snow. To think that the Lord of heaven and earth, who holds the universe in His very hand, who created all things with words, and holds all things together... to think that He died so that my soul can be whiter than snow.

It is an amazing thought.

Springy and muddy

2009-12-15T16:51:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, a stray dog showed up in our neighborhood. We had never seen her before, and neither had our neighbors. She was wearing a collar, and she was very friendly and playful. She was obviously someone's pet.

She likes to jump, and as our yard is very muddy from all of the rain we got over the weekend, that's not exactly a good thing. Within less than twenty-four hours, two pairs of my jeans have received a thorough stamping of muddy paw prints.

Today she discovered that she could jump on top of our picnic table, and she's been taking naps up there when she's not running around the yard, barking. She's a sweet dog, energetic and jumpy though she may be.

Though she has a collar, there is no tag on it. We don't know what breed she is, and I'm guessing she's a Jack Russel Terrier, but we can't be sure. We're hoping to locate her owners and return her, because they must be missing her badly.

Raindrops and Leaves

2009-12-12T22:06:00.006-05:00

It's raining - cold, tiny drops that wish they were snowflakes. I lift my face to the cloudy skies and smile, the droplets wetting my face. I stick out my tongue, as if to catch a snowflake, but the rain avoids it, an errant drop falling into my eye. I blink and shake my head like a wet dog.

I wish it would snow. I like snow, though we rarely get it here. The squeaky, crunching sound it makes under my boots, the soft coldness of it as I form it into a ball to throw at a sibling. The intricacies of each unique flake, born for but a moment - a crystal design for one second before it melts away on my arm. To think that each snowflake, each unique and perfect ice crystal, was designed by God, personally designed by God, for an express purpose. This one to melt on my tongue, that one on my arm, those thousand to be balled together and thrown at a sibling, who laughs, their cheeks glowing red in the cold.

At the other end of the leash in my hand, the dog stops, literally pulling me back to reality. I rub my thumb against the black leather, the leash warm from my hand. The dog snuffles in the frost covered grass and dead leaves by the side of the road, and I let my mind drift again.

Leaves - dead, brown, dry, brittle. It's funny how you don't really notice leaves until they're on the ground and you have to rake them into a pile by the road, or around a tree. You might notice their birth, as they brazenly begin to break forth in the spring. Or you might enjoy the shade that they give in the hot summer. You take pictures, or think about taking pictures, of their brilliant colors in the autumn.

And then they die. Bright oranges darken to a muddy brown, reds fade and dry, yellows begin to have age spots and know that their time is coming. Then, one by one, some in gusts, some gently, they fall from the trees. Death of the leaves. They drift and scatter, some crunching under feet, others moldering against the ground, wet and soft from rain and dew.

The raking begins. The great funeral we put on for the leaves. In the barren branches, the wind sings a requiem. We grab the rakes and head out to the yard, wearing sweatshirts and grumbling a bit. The piles by the road grows. So do the black plastic bags, funeral finery, the best send off we think to give the fallen leaves.

Frost comes, sometimes snow. The leaves lie forgotten. Dead and gone, they lived their lives, some noticed, some not. Like humans, some had brilliant glory, while others just hung in there, unnoticed, unremarked upon. Some leaves still linger, dead and shriveled on the trees, their empty shells, devoid of life, rattling in the wind.

My feet beat a cadence on the asphalt, and the rain tickles my face. Like the vivid leaves which one notices, I want to make a difference, be it ever so small and so easily forgotten as the leaves that come and go with the seasons. To burn out bright, so that you notice when it's gone.

Like leaves, humanity is tossed and battered by the turbulent winds of life. We can be different, each with our own color, shape, and size, like the tiny, but brilliant red of a Japanese maple or the big, bright yellow of a poplar. Or we can be uniform and drab, always doing whatever anyone else does, always going with the flow, like the millions of leaves on a willow-oak tree, small and slim, an unremarkable green that fades to an equally unremarkable brown.

God calls us to live a life that is different. We need to live each day knowing that we're making a difference with our lives, whether we will or no. And that difference needs to be a change for good, not for ill. What you say, the way you act - such a seemingly small or insignificant thing can, quite literally, change the world.