From the Desk of a Dragon

The Jolly Genre Jubilee Tag!

2022-12-17T15:53:00.000-05:00

Hi guys! Today I made myself some bubble tea and decided it was time to finish some of my blog drafts.

Quinley from Adventure Awaits tagged me in the Jolly Genre Jubilee Tag when she did it months ago! This is a lovely tag and I'm glad she thought of me.

The Rules

Thank the person who tagged you.
Leave a link back to the creator.
Answer the questions honestly, and include at least one gif of a pelican.
Tag 3+ friends to do this tag on their blog.

If you have an active creative blog, tag yourself in the comments ;). My blogger friends left me years ago.

Now for the questions!

1. What is your favorite genre of fiction to write?

First of all, I'm not great at categorizing genres. As soon as things blend a little bit, oops, I don't know what it is anymore. That being said, I love writing spooky fantasy. I worked on two stories in this genre for my fiction writing class this semester. It's so much fun to write weird paranormal things and create bleak and scary worlds.

The Wayward Children series by Seanan McGuire pulls off this vibe very well. I wholeheartedly recommend.

2. What genre would you NEVER get caught writing.....EVER?

I could never trust myself with historical fiction. While I love history, the amount of research involved for accuracy stresses me out. I would be too afraid of real historians tearing me apart to write anything!

3. What fictional genre feels most like home to you?

I'm most comfortable with fantasy! It got me into writing seriously. I've written lots of different flavors of it over the years.

4. If you could transform your life into any genre of your choosing, what would it be?

I'd like a YA romance with a splash of found family trope please.

I have a wonderful partner whom I adore, so I'm partway there, but we could use a little running away together to magically fix our life problems. Since I am an anxious person, I am sure that some writer (honestly, myself) would love to put me through emotional hell, but I want something lighthearted that doesn't put too much pressure on me.

On the other hand, it might be fun to be a mermaid.

5. What genre does your real life resemble at the moment?

Realistic fiction, I guess. I'm a stressed-out college student. It's never a good thing when my life gets exciting.

6. What's a genre you're interested in writing, even though you've never written it before?

Sometimes I consider trying a middle-grade or children's book. I enjoy reading them sometimes because they're lighter than most YA and adult books. I would love to finish reading all of the American Girl books someday.

I also want to try flash fiction. Some people in my fiction writing class shared theirs in workshops, and they were fantastic. The amount of story packed into so few words is impressive. I think it would be an interesting challenge if inspiration strikes!

7. What genre is your most recent plot bunny and where did it come from?

I don't know about plot bunny, but I want to start a memoir or poetry collection as my next project. Poetry is always on my mind. I've been writing short stories and a magazine article for the fiction and journalism classes that I took this past semester, so I haven't had a ton of extra time for personal writing.

8. How many genres have you written thus far in your writing journey?

I've tried a lot of things! I've written an apocalyptic YA novel, a dystopian future, lots of fantasy, poetry, romance, realistic fiction, and fanfic (if that counts). So that would be... six? I doubt that's everything, but today is not the day that I go through my writing folder from middle and high school.

That's all for the tag! Oh, wait.

via Gfycat

Here is the promised pelican. Half of the gifs I saw were basketball players and the other half were pelican birds doing this. I don't know how to feel about pelicans now.

If you read any of these answers and thought, "hey Lanie, that's not a genre," please understand that it's a genre in my heart.

I hope you all are having a good December and coming up on winter break. I've been home for a little less than a week. I'm glad to see my cats again!

Happy holidays!

II. Young Footprints {A Short Story}

2022-06-13T12:21:00.000-04:00

The rain slows, then stops. There are trees as far as you can see. You sit down on a log and squeeze the water from your hair. It trickles like a shiver down the back of your neck. Has night fallen? Your aching body and sleepy eyes decide it has. The forest is as bright as ever.

You sleep on the ground with your backpack for a pillow.

When you wake, the air is sticky and warm. Your skin is covered in dust, marked with indentations of the sticks and acorns that you slept on. The forest hasn't aged a moment.

There is nothing for breakfast in your backpack. You search a second time and find only the same dead leaves and tissues that you found the first time, as well as the watch that should have been on your wrist. It says the time is 4:00. You furrow your brow and wait for the second hand to tick, counting to sixty before deciding that it isn't going to. You drop all of the items back into your bag. Your stomach cries for food; your mouth begs for water. You promise you'll get home quickly, and then you can have both.

You must have gotten lost in the rain last night, because the only way out of this clearing is the trail you came in on. You retrace your steps more confidently than is wise. In a forest, one should never be sure of where they are going. Nature plays tricks on the certain.

Certainty blinds as you wander between unfamiliar trees. You stumble down a hill. Rocks poke at your bare feet. The branches that hang low across the path grab your skin. You stop in front of a tree growing where the trail should be, but you can't seem to find where it continues. You step over the undergrowth to the other side of the tree, and then you see why the trail ended.

The land drops away into a gorge with a swirling river at the bottom. Light dances on the rapids. The music of the bubbling water makes you thirstier. You drop your backpack on the side of the trail. You scout out the safest way down to the water, then forge your own trail towards it. The forest resists, but you push on through the branches that grab your arms and legs. We did not ask for blood, but you leave it behind anyway.

When you reach the bottom, you discover that, only a short walk along the narrow bank, the gorge opens up into a meadow. Across the water, the sun shines and tall grass ripples in the wind. You kneel next to the river and drink from cupped hands. The water is cold and sweet, but sand settles lightly on your tongue. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you catch sight of a piece of your reflection, too broken by rocks and rapids to be recognizable. You run a hand across your face and wonder what it looks like.

You don’t mean to give in to the siren song of the river. It’s just your feet at first, dipping one and then the other, but as anyone who's washed their feet in a river knows, your efforts are undone as soon as you step out of the water. So you step in with both feet. A second later the current is rushing around your knees.

Water tugs at your shorts as you walk deeper and deeper until there is no choice but to swim. The river is wider and rockier than it looked. You fight through the powerful current tugging you downstream. A rapid pushes your head under, and with a gasping breath when you surface, you feel your burdens wash away. You stumble onto the sand of the other bank, shake the water out of your hair, and turn towards the unobscured sun for the first time in days.

We watch you disappear into the meadow. Wait—will you come back and tell us of the castle? We have never seen the castle, and we have never walked the trails you have. We do not know if these things are or aren't. Our old eyes have never seen beyond the forest.

♡ ♡ ♡

Hello again! This part took longer to post because I got my wisdom teeth out last week. I can eat again, which is great. I have motivation and energy to do things again, haha. I've got some more things planned for this month (Happy pride!!) so stay tuned for those. I hope you're doing well.

I. Old Eyes {A Short Story}

2022-05-20T11:00:00.003-04:00

A smiling park ranger told you there was a castle through this forest. Perhaps you will discover that she told the truth, or perhaps not. She's sent many people our way before, and you, like every one of them, are burdened.

You pause a short walk into the forest. The straps of your backpack dig into your shoulders as you tilt your head up towards the canopy. Great trunks tower above, silently observing the newcomer in their midst. Their leaves glow in the soft sunlight, and between the leaves shimmer specks of blue.

On the path ahead, you spot a fallen tree trunk. You kick the rotting bark before stepping over, displacing frantic ants and pill bugs into a spot of sun. Suddenly, you cringe as you sink ankle-deep into the puddle on the other side.

The first things you shed are your shoes.

You deposit the mud-soaked sneakers at the foot of a towering oak, and after a moment's hesitation, peel your socks off, too. You wring them out before stuffing them both inside the right shoe, as though it matters. Cool earth and bits of gravel make up the path. Rocks and roots stick up from the ground. Your bare soles wince, delicate and unused to such rough terrain.

The morning is beautiful, or perhaps it is afternoon already. A glance at the sky reveals nothing, so you look to one bare wrist for a watch, then pat two empty pockets for your phone. You worry you won't reach the castle by sunset.

As you come upon a fork in the trail, a weathered sign offers hope. Two carved arrows, one pointing left and the other pointing up, are the only directions visible beneath a layer of dirt. You brush a hand across the dirt, and when that doesn't reveal the names of the trails, you pour your water bottle over the sign and scrub at the dirt with the front of your jacket. The sign begrudgingly comes clean, but peels of gray paint flake away with the soil. Frustration asks what helpful words it could have held before you so carelessly scrubbed them away.

Then you notice the rip in your jacket. You set your water bottle next to the sign and inspect the fraying nylon with both hands. You scowl, cursing yourself for another mistake. The jacket was expensive, and we aren't sorry. We don't appreciate expensive things.

After a moment of mourning, you brush the dirt off the fabric and consider the two trails again. Neither seems any better than the other, but you decide on the right-hand one.

Had you read the words that weren't there, you might've chosen the better trail to take. Of course, that assumes that there is a good trail to take, or that you didn't take it already. Perhaps, the undergrowth whispers, there was never a trail to begin with.

You continue on the narrow and poorly maintained trail, chest filled with questionable confidence. How long has it been since human feet touched this ground? You step over logs and dry creek beds, flinching when your foot brushes a low-creeping briar.

A raindrop splashes cold on your cheek, making you gasp. The sky above is as bright as it has ever been. You take another cautious step, eyes searching the trees for a different explanation. Another drop lands on your skin, and the rain picks up until you cannot deny the shower you're walking through. A tree with low-hanging branches and wide leaves shelters a patch of dry ground underneath. In a split-second decision, you drop to your hands and knees and duck out of the rain. You lean your backpack against the tree trunk and spread your jacket on the ground to sit on.

Gentle wind carries the smell of earth and wet leaves into your nest while the rain pours. Birds chirp and squirrels chatter as they hop between the trees. One lands above in the branches above you, sending a shower of water down into your hair.

When the rain starts to lighten, you dig through trail maps and granola bars, cursing yourself for forgetting to bring a jacket. The coat of dead leaves beneath you is quickly dampening. The castle can’t be far now, and then there will be shelter and someone who could lend you a towel. You swing your backpack over one shoulder and abandon the shelter.

A sudden chill stops the breath in your chest. Water soaks clothes to your skin and hair to your cheeks. You feel the mud between your toes sucking downward. You hike with eyes trained forward for bright blazes that will never appear, freezing, enduring.

to be continued...

♡ ♡ ♡

Hello everyone! I just finished my first year of college and moved back home about a week ago. Last semester was so busy. I spent all my writing energy on an article for my journalism class that I'm very proud of, but now that I have free time I'm back to blogging again. Part two of this story will be up in a few days.

Looking Down

2022-01-16T13:29:00.005-05:00

If you had told me a year ago that tonight I'd be drinking hot chocolate at my desk in pajamas and fingerless gloves, I would have looked at myself and thought, yeah, that sounds about right. Neither my always-cold hands nor my adoration of warm drinks has changed in the past year, though I would appreciate being rid of the former.

A year ago, the view from this metaphorical ledge would have left me teetering and forcing down nausea. But now I sit, legs crossed, looking down at the ice below. I toss dead leaves over the edge and watch them swirl in the wind. The ground under me is solid.

Last week was my first appointment with my new therapist. The day before, I drove six hours home from my partner's house. My partner and I spent New Year's Eve cuddling and watching Markiplier—she insisted, and I think I'm a fan now.

At home, even through my loneliness (long distance relationships are hard, guys), hope glittered. Maybe I'm "feeling 22" like the Taylor Swift song, and this is gonna be my year. I'm nineteen, bursting with some newfound energy, and I have realized that I can buy myself milkshakes when I want them. Being an adult is kind of cool, actually. Maybe eighteen was too much pressure.

Finally, finally, I think it's getting better. I rarely share anything about my struggles with anxiety, self-worth, and whatever else my brain decides to throw at me, but I'm trying to open up a little more. I survived my first semester of college living away from home, and more than survived it—enjoyed it.

This coming semester I'm most excited for finally getting to be part of the literary magazine staff (no one submitted in the fall, so we postponed the issue), and for my literary journalism class. I'll try to keep you updated on how this career exploration goes. On that note, I should really get back to my growing pile of readings. It turns out that I can't breeze through French like I can English—who would have guessed?

From somewhere in the middle of my mountain, happy new year! My hands are healed and the summit isn't as daunting. I hope 2022 is a good one.

Poetry {not a poem}

2021-10-20T23:35:00.002-04:00

My favorite place in my college library is the third floor. It's a quiet space, so I can sit in one of the empty window desks and just work for a long time. Some of the desks belong to people who've added decorations and little notes for others who sit there while they're away. Some of the notes are graffiti. I like the desk at the end the best because I don't feel like I'm disturbing anyone there. I've watched the clouds turn colors through that window a few times. When I'm having a rough day, the sunset is the sky telling me it's going to be okay.

I also like the third floor because it's full of old books. I read the titles and run my fingers over the spines, the faded colors and shiny letters. One day I'm going to open the books instead of just walking past, to see if I like the insides as much.

The library was giving away old books today. I wanted a lot of them because they were colorful and pretty, but I ended up taking only a rough-looking book of Robert Frost poems. I picked it up because, even though my creative writing class is finished with our poetry unit now, I'm still stuck on the idea of finding poems to bring in and share. I didn't read much poetry until about a month ago, but now I think I've fallen in love.

I've written some poems I'm proud of in the past few weeks. I might share them here when I feel comfortable.

I want to thank my professor for creating the class she did. She made creative writing my favorite class, which didn't surprise me. She made all of us feel welcome and listened to. I felt comfortable sharing in class discussions. I adored the way she taught poetry. Our discussions brought out a lot of personal stories from everyone in the class, and she called the little details we related to "universal specifics." She told us to always use detail in our poems, no matter how personal. Someone will read your poem and feel seen by your words.

We read about the spoon that a lost friend brought home from a potluck, and the purse-clasp snap that made someone think of her mother. I wrote about clothes that shrank in the wash and the bracelet I gave my best friend when I was fifteen.

We read "Getting Close" by Victoria Redel in class a few weeks ago. Our professor talked about how, when you reach the age that your parents passed, you keep wondering when it's going to happen to you, if you're getting close now too. I wish I could rewind and listen to exactly what she said again. It would feel like perfect poetry now. The last thing we talked about was loss, like we had kind of closed things off neatly before she left us. But it isn't neat, because loss never is.

She was a well-known and beautiful poet, a wonderful professor, and such a kind person. I loved the way she spoke. I'm grateful that she was able to teach poetry in the few weeks that I knew her.

The class is moving forward with a new professor. We're studying fiction now.

wishing you the best of luck ❤

This post is a little bit about poetry and libraries. It's also about new things and old things and loss. Change. The pencil notes of encouragement on the library desks aren't enough to keep me going, but I'll still say my silent thanks to the writers, feeling heard by someone I have never known.

Here are some poems that I've loved recently:

A microwave in a creek, because we all feel out of place sometimes

2021-10-09T20:39:00.000-04:00

Honestly, it's been a weird few weeks for me. Here are some pictures from February and some fun memories from the past month.

My sibling

I joined my college's dance theater and I am really enjoying it. We're performing outside in the library courtyard, which is an interesting choice of venue, but the space-specific choreography is kind of cool. I've never performed outside before. I wore shorts to our first outdoor practice and scraped my legs and hands when I had to do floorwork on the stone patio. It can get very hot, but I have worn leggings ever since.

My family came to visit me a few weeks ago. My mom brought me some flowers in a jar and my sibling brought me a plant, which is doing really well given my track record. (I say this as I leave it for ten days with no one to water it. If it dies I will be so upset.) I showed them the cool trees to climb and we did that for about an hour. There are some really nice magnolia trees on campus. I'd climbed one before, but I wasn't as brave as my sibling and didn't get very far up.

That's my dad at the bottom and my sibling at the top.

Formal was last week and I had a lot of fun! I was worried I was going to be super awkward and stand in the corner the whole time, but I ended up getting some pictures and dancing with one of my friends for a while. I wore a red lace dress that I got at Goodwill the week before. I felt so comfortable with the people around me, which made me really happy. I'm enjoying the community here.

And of course, the promised Creek Microwave, which was not an exaggeration but an actual thing I found while poking around in the woods at the park. Who put him there? How long has he been there, trapped in dirt and leaves and muddy water? Is anyone going to give him a proper funeral?

I hope you're all doing alright and aren't stuck in a creek or anything. I'll be back soon.

Holding on

2021-08-20T21:01:00.000-04:00

I'm putting my stuffed animals in a laundry basket and trying not to cry because it's making me realize I'm not a child anymore.

This is a big step and I'm scared. I know millions of people move out every year, and I'll have a few hundred new people around me, but it's not much comfort. I am just one person with anxiety and a basket of stuffed animals.

My room is half-packed, my bed stripped, a bucket of coat hangers and laundry supplies open on the floor. It's in transition, like me. I don't know what it'll be like when I'm not here anymore. I wonder if it'll still feel lived in. I wonder how I can make a new space feel like home.

I used to dream about keeping this blog until I was 18 and getting to say look! I'm an adult, and here's what I don't have to hide anymore. But now that I'm here, it feels like I'm crying wait, I'm still young. Don't let me go yet. And I'm too old for Peter Pan, what hope do I have?

I'm bringing my stuffed animals with me. They'll be my childish companions for growing up and holding on. Part of me wanted to leave them, to start over in a sense, but I'm not quite brave enough for that. I still need my otter to hold at night.

So yeah, I've moved out for college. It's going alright so far, but I'm a little overwhelmed. Since being here, I actually acquired a stuffed Scottish terrier. He's cute but doesn't have a name yet. Suggestions are accepted. Here he is at dinner yesterday when I got him.

And this is Melon, my little stress plushie who hangs out on my desk and in my bag sometimes. They're an owl I think.

Featuring my Frozen 2 hand sanitizer because, Elsa. She's pretty, okay?

I'm very nervous for what this year will bring, but I'm trying to be excited too. My classes start on Monday, and they seem pretty cool. It seems like I might be able to make some friends too. I'll keep you guys updated.

Twenty Years Later: A Tag

2021-07-22T20:30:00.000-04:00

Hey guys! I was nominated for Twenty Years Later: A Tag by Quinley from Adventure Awaits. Thanks so much to her! I think this prompt is really cool.

The Rules:

Appreciate the blogger who nominated you.
Mention Gauri @ Brighter Alleys, the creator of this letter tag.
Answer the question, which is a task to write a letter.
Nominate five bloggers who you think are worth it. Make sure they know that they are nominated.

The prompt:
Imagine yourself to be twenty years older than now. You have become what you always wanted to, and are living your dream. But suddenly, the 'current version of you' pops out of nowhere and asks for some tips. What tips will you give? Write a letter from the 'twenty years older you' to the 'current you' and tell how you reached your goals in twenty years.
- Gauri at Brighter Alleys , Twenty Years Later: A Tag.

My letter:

Dear 18-year-old Lanie,

Do you recognize me? I'm the dream version of you at age 38. Right now you're nervously waiting out the summer between high school and college. There are a lot of things to come, and you don't know what to expect. I won't give too much away, but I know there are some things you want to know.

You might be nervous now, but you have greatness in you. If you try you can make a career out of your photography or your writing. Your ideas and projects will amount to something. One day you'll be able to find your books— I won't say which ones, maybe you haven't started them yet — on shelves somewhere. Make time for writing and create things you're proud of, and maybe you'll publish more things. Don't be afraid to push yourself. That's how you learn.

You can make the life you want for yourself. It seems like not much and so much all at the same time. You just want to live somewhere comfortable and quiet with people that make you happy, and adopt cats with your wife. Maybe it's far away, but you can do it. Remember that the things you want are important, and most people probably don't care that much. Break the rules if you want. Don't hold yourself back because of other people's expectations.

I can look back at your teenage journals and think about how much you're going to change. The best thing you can do is be brave. New things are scary, but you've got to make them fear you. Or, okay, maybe just make them like you. But face them all the same.

And hey— you can be a little more optimistic. Things are going to turn out okay.

Love,

38-year-old Lanie.

Right now I'm 18, and 20 years from now I'll be 38. That seems so old compared to current me, especially since I haven't even lived 20 years yet. Who knows what I'll be like at 38. I'm facing a lot of unknowns right now, and I really want someone to tell me it's going to be okay.

It's been a long time since I did a tag, and I still don't have blogger friends to nominate. If you feel like doing this tag, go ahead! You can say I nominated you. Thanks again to Quinley for nominating me. Her and Guari's letters were pretty cool, and you should check them out!

I hope you enjoyed this little look at my dreams (and insecurities). If I happen to remember this when I'm 38, I think it'll be interesting to look back on.

What are some of your dreams for the future?

It would feel like this

2021-06-29T18:26:00.001-04:00

Happy pride month everyone. This is a poem about the girl I love.

I don’t know how to kiss a girl
but she talks like it’s magic
like we exist to hold each other
from my distance I wonder how it feels
and I worry
I don’t know how to kiss a girl
but I want it to be magic
I learn that her hugs are tight
the crook of her neck where I bury my face is soft
her hand on my cheek is warm
when she brings her face to mine
her lips are warm too
they make my heart soar
and despite all the things we say,
and how much we want to hold each other
it's a puzzle we haven’t quite solved
we’re awkward and happier than ever
and I find out what I’ve wondered for months
how do you kiss a girl?
like this.

I hope you guys have had a good month. Mine's had its ups and downs, but this was one of the ups. I have a feeling the girl this is about is going to see this so, hi babe. Happy 7 months <3.

I've been listening to Girl In Red's album, If I Could Make It Go Quiet. It's very good, although kinda sad and not the happiest gay thing ever, haha. The title of this post is taken from the last track.

The photo of the sky is from last night when I was driving back from the beach with my mom and my little brother. The sunset was gorgeous, and I got to watch the whole thing. I've been busy with a lot of things, (college things, trips, all that summer stuff) but I'm trying to get back into writing with July Camp NaNo. I'll be back with more posts soon.

An Island

2021-03-16T18:29:00.001-04:00

An island sits, rooted deep in the seabed. It sees nothing but water for miles on every side, and the ocean isn't good company. It seeks only to steal sand from the island, tugging it from the edges of the shoreline as if the island might not notice. The island does notice. The two coexist, but they will never be friends.

An island spends its life waiting for the misfortune of others. Perhaps some half-drowned sailor will wash up on its beach, or pirates will stop by to hide their stolen riches, or a runaway daughter will anchor her boat near the first shore she's seen in days.

An island wants a visitor to stumble across its undisturbed sand, be they coughing up water or carrying treasure or resting their ocean-weary body. It is happy to shelter them in the heart of its forest, because it knows what exhaustion the sea brings. It feels proud when its trees are chosen for a boat or shelter or fire. Its heart leaps at the shouts of celebration when the visitor declares their victory to the heavens. No one thanks an island, but it sees that they are grateful.

An island never asks its visitors who they are, where they are from, or what crimes they have committed. It knows that the opposite of luck is misfortune, and one never occurs without the other. Victim or victor, the island welcomes everyone. Its desire is the same as theirs: for the misfortune of another to unseat its own. The lucky sailor who sleeps another night on his ship never sees the island, and the unfortunate island rooted deep in the seabed never sees the sailor. It only endures another storm in solitude.

♡♡♡

Hey guys.

So, um, happy 2021! It's a little late but I am here nonetheless. I wrote this piece a few months ago when I was feeling lonely. I'm feeling less lonely now, but this year has been rough so far. I miss writing. I hope I can get back to it soon.

I've got about six weeks until I'm done with my classes. Maybe I can start posting again after finals. This semester has been even harder than the last one, but I'm getting through.

I don't have anything else to share today, but I wanted to post this. I'll see you soon.

How to Hold a Snail

2020-12-31T19:12:00.001-05:00

I'm not doing a wrap-up post for 2020. Things happened this year, yes, but I have a feeling that all of you are sick of forced positivity and talk of the "new normal." At least, I'm very sick of it. I wrote a post about snails to finish out the year. I hope you enjoy.

I kept garden snails this summer. I had eight, and the four big enough to tell apart had names: Leif, Chomp, Schrodinger*, and Zippy. I had them for about two months, and then I let them go in early July. I kind of regret that, because I miss them.

*Schrodinger was named by my friend who'd been sending pictures of my snails to her other friends, but realized that she didn't know if they had names or not when someone asked if they did. She concluded they were both named and unnamed, thus Schrodinger's snails, and she suggested that for my one snail without a name.

If you don't know how it feels to have a snail crawl across the palm of your hand, I think you're missing out.

My little brother feeding Chomp

You pick them up when they're tucked inside their shell, like a delicate little rock that's much too light to be a rock. You set them in your cupped palm. You wait.

Schrodinger exploring the outside of the jar.

They unfurl in the strangest way. They poke out their tail and belly first, their foot crumpled and nervous away from your skin. Then you can see their mouth, and then their head emerges. Their eyes extend like tiny telescopes to look at your hand, then you. The snail shifts, uncrumples their foot and sets their shell upright.

Zippy, featuring one of my favorite books.

Suddenly, you are holding a tiny, perfect creature. You sit as still as a rock-that's-too-light-to-be-a-rock, afraid that you might disturb them.

Chomp and Schrodinger having a snack.

Then they start to crawl. They may be slow, but they are graceful, gliding across the palm of your hand and leaving a sparkling path of slime in their wake.

They'll crawl to the tip of your finger and look around for somewhere else to go, and then you can put them down somewhere. Sometimes they start crawling on your hands and don't want to get off. I love watching how they move. They're slow compared to other bugs, but it's not as extreme as some people think. If you take your eyes off them for a few minutes, you can lose them.

What a model.

I love snails. They are so small and beautiful. I think all of you need to hold a snail in 2021. Be gentle, careful, and carry them with love.

I hope you're all doing alright. I'm going to have dinner with my family and try not to fear the future too much. Love you guys :)

Take a Breath

2020-11-13T20:32:00.000-05:00

It's time to let it go, leave it behind
- Not The Same // Malinda

I woke up at one-thirty a.m. on my eighteenth birthday and told myself that I didn't want the first decision I made as an adult to be a bad one. I bought a bag of Jolly Ranchers, and I think things are going alright.

I don't want to reflect on adulthood because honestly it scares me. It hasn't changed anything about my life so far, anyway. It's been a bit more than week, and all I've done is struggle through my homework and talk to friends. Though, I did vote. My birthday was the second, so I was barely eligible, but with this election being like it was, I'm glad I could have a say in it.

I tried taking some outfit pictures in my kitchen, and I kind of liked this one.

Celebrating wasn't much because I'm not one for big gatherings. I played Cards Against Humanity with some of my friends while I struggled to stay awake, knowing full well I would be exhausted for my 8 a.m. history class the next day. My family went out to dinner and my siblings baked cupcakes. It was very chill, but I enjoyed it.

I got milkshakes with a friend on Saturday. They gave me a succulent that I am afraid I will kill somehow, even though they assured me that it wasn't a fragile plant. We got some rubber ducks from a claw machine because ducks are fun. We looked at the cats in shop windows and took pictures of the sky from a parking deck that has one of my favorite views.

I wanted this post to be a thank you to the people who have influenced me over my life, but I realized very quickly that I would either be writing my autobiography or listing out dozens of names. My autobiography might be interesting, but I do not have that kind of time right now. (My NaNoWriMo project is crying because I have written less than five thousand terrible words and it's been twelve days. In the words of a friend of mine, happy National Nothing Written Month.)

So in that case: Thank you guys. If you've ever said a kind word to me, I probably remember it. Thanks for supporting my interests, or being there for me, or reading my words so I'm not talking to an empty world. I'm glad our lives have intersected somehow.

Those are my feelings for today. I'll be back soon if I can catch a moment to breathe.

Playground Fairies

2020-10-11T10:49:00.001-04:00

There's something romantic

when your feet don't reach the ground

like you're eight years old, short

bare feet swinging in summer air.

Maybe it's because after

when you flip from the monkey bars

and land

and scrape your hands in the mulch

you'll know you are human

and you will never fly.

I can't remember if I really believed in fairies as a child, or if I just said that I did because I wished they were real. Even now, as a nearly-adult, I keep an open mind. Why should I deny magic just because it's childish? I'm childish enough for magic.

I can't see magic, but it's like I can feel it sometimes, sitting at the top of a jungle gym or jumping out of a swing. I still run around in the woods and climb the big rocks. I squish myself onto the tire swing that I outgrew seven years ago and make my younger cousins push me because I pushed them. I sit at my desk surrounded by my dolls and stuffed animals because they make me happy. I don't want to give that up.

I've been trying to play with my little brother more often recently. He's six, and I've noticed that he's starting to make up games like Allie and I used to. It makes me a little sad to tell him that I'm too big to fit in his fort and too heavy to play popcorn on the trampoline without possibly hurting him.

I'm glad that I've grown as a person, but sometimes I miss when all I wanted in life was Littlest Pet Shops and cool playgrounds. Do you?

A Walk in the Woods

2020-09-26T11:31:00.000-04:00

A draft from a year ago that I never posted for some reason.

I walked a wooded trail where late afternoon cold whispered along the tops of my ears. I wrapped my shaking fingers around my camera to still them, lingering behind the other three members of the party to breathe in the damp smell of the forest. There's something perfect about the smell of a damp forest, rich and earthy, when fresh air mingles with the scent of fallen leaves. I'm closing my eyes and inhaling lukewarm indoor air trying to imagine it again, but it doesn't help.

I climbed a mountain. It wasn't a hard walk. We drove most of the way up before we even reached the base of the trail. That's how mountains are around here. We're surrounded by them all the time, so when I start climbing one, it sneaks up on me, masking itself with trees and rocks and creeks to cross, and I don't realize how far up I've come until I'm staring out over the valley and the tops of the trees.

Views like this never get old.

Although I've never tried, I think I could spend hours looking at the clouds on the horizon. While I was up there, the sun was starting to set, which sucked any warmth from the wind, but lit up the sky so beautifully.

On the trees around me hung leaves in vibrant reds and pine needles in vibrant greens. The wind blew and tossed them through the air. There's something magnetic about watching them spin and flutter to the earth.

We didn't finish the trail because it started to get dark. We turned back down the mountain, stumbling down steep paths and over rocks and through slick patches of leaves. We climbed back down the narrow trail behind the mill and jumped over the creek before our shoes could sink too deep into the mud on the bank.

A note from 2020 Lanie: I don't know why I never published this. I guess I read through it and decided that it wasn't good enough. I was trying to re-create the style that I used in Missing the Stars (still one of my favorite posts on this blog). This post isn't quite the same, but I think it's worthy of sharing.

Go for a walk in the woods. It'll be worth it.

September Rambling

2020-09-19T10:55:00.004-04:00

What's up, guys? It's Lanie, and I am tired as heck.

Can you tell I'm running out of things to blog about again? It was bound to happen sometime, but please know I am trying my best. I think my last post was a little weird for this blog. I'll try to lighten things up again with this one.

Firstly, please turn your attention to my new header. I made it myself and definitely stretched my graphic design skills in the process. It took me a full afternoon and lots of attempts and adjustments, all of which are collected in a folder on my desktop called "I hate graphic design."

What have I been spending my time on, besides unnecessarily difficult attempts at graphic design? School. Lots of it. School is draining. It's really hard to create when you're constantly exhausted and overwhelmed. You guys have stayed in the back of my mind, though.

I made you a meme, and I hope you don't have high expectations for this post.

Secondly, Folklore by Taylor Swift. This album has been out for almost two months now, and it hasn't lost its charm. I never considered myself a Taylor Swift fan before, although I liked some of her music. Folklore has changed that.
I listened to it initially because people said Betty had gay energy, which it does. Betty is gay and you cannot convince me otherwise. Then I got hooked on the emotions of the whole album. It's so beautiful! The music is peaceful, but the emotions are so deep and intense. Intense emotion in music is one of my favorite things. If you haven't listened to this album yet, please do. I can't promise you'll love it, but I certainly do.

Despite the mental toll school is taking on me, I'm glad for the reason to put effort into my appearance again. Sundresses and jackets are a good combo. Also, the cool thing about college is that they won't send you home for wearing shorts and tank tops. I have taken advantage of this because I don't like pants very much. Skirts and shorts are better than everything else. I might write a post about fashion (if I even have any, haha.) Let me know if you want to see that!

I've been appreciating the outdoors at my community college campus. There's a picnic shelter that looks out over the lake. I sit out there and read sometimes. There's a trail that goes around the lake, too. I walked the whole trail on a whim last week, and I stopped halfway around to sit in the grass and look at my literature homework.

I took these on my phone, but I hope to bring my camera one day.

There are a lot of geese. I've seen at least twice as many as are in this picture. I like watching them.

That's all I've got for today. I hope I'll post again soon, but as always, I make no promises. This school year is going to be a hard one.

I hope you guys are doing well. Be safe and all that fun stuff.

Summer Thoughts

2020-08-04T15:28:00.001-04:00

Summer is weird.

More than anything I feel like I'm drifting, watching sun and clouds and thunderstorms pass by my bedroom window and forgetting the days are moving by with them.

It's been longer than normal this year, dragging its feet and muttering noncommittally when asked where we are going and when we will get there. I blink and it's 11 pm again. I can never decide if I should sleep or continue whatever nothing I was doing until I decide it's too late to be awake.

But overall, I've been alright. It's been good. No, I will not be taking any averages, because if I am wrong, I would rather live in ignorance and believe my summer was better than it really was.

What do I have to show for it?

- 10,000 words of a new project.
- Some badly made doll clothes.
- Aesthetic Pinterest boards.
- A newly wedded Sim family who are winning at life.
- Legs full of mosquito bites.

- Late-night creativity.

- A small scribble of black pen in my journal labelled "me."

- Something of a tan, faded from a painful sunburn.

- A 4 on the AP U.S. History exam.

- Three books marked "read" on Goodreads.

- Pictures of boats.

- Song lyrics written in magnets on my whiteboard.

- A single, green, fingerless glove.

- 34 consecutive journal entries, plus others after I skipped a day.

- Another American Girl doll (her name is Stormé).

- A drawing of a stick person falling off of a boat, also labelled "me."

- Two happy playlists.

- A short story.

- Sticky note lists with check marks and doodles on them.

- An organized bookshelf.

That's more than a few things, when you put them all together.

I would be going back to school this week, but my district pushed it back. I'll be back in two weeks instead. I'll probably snap out of this late-summer daze the night before while I remember how to wake up at 6 a.m. and wash my face.

I'm not sure if I'm ready exactly, but am I ever? Or maybe I am, and it's just senior year nerves getting the best of me. I don't miss the academics so much as the socializing and stability, and at this point, I don't know what to expect in either department.

But we will find out!

I'll leave you with a song. Not the Same by Malinda started playing as I finished adding photos, and it's fitting, besides being one of my favorite songs.

How has your summer gone?

Lizards

2020-07-21T21:04:00.002-04:00

I adore lizards. They're fantastic little reptiles.

I don't claim to know a lot about them or how to take care of them or anything. I just think they're cool. I think we have a few things in common. Both me and your typical backyard lizard are shy and enjoy sitting on warm rocks.

I saw this little dude hanging out on our driveway a while ago. I grabbed my camera and followed him around for a bit.

Look at him! He's such a model.

(Disclaimer: I don't know if this lizard is actually male or not. I imagine there's a way to tell, but like I said, I don't know much about lizards.)

Do you see him? I feel a bit bad for bothering him. I wasn't going to hurt him, but he didn't know that.

I don't know if this was the same lizard, but a few days after I took these pictures, I found a lizard hanging out on the wall next to my back door. I didn't notice him until I tried to open the door. The noise scared him, so he jumped onto my hand and ran away. It made my day.

I'll be honest, this isn't going anywhere and I'm running out of things to say. I wrote an entire post dedicated to a lizard, so what?

Dragons are just giant fantasy lizards.

After this I went back inside and left him alone.

I will probably regret posting this at a later date. I hope you enjoyed the lizard pictures.

Steal Home Before Sunset, Cover Up My Tracks

2020-07-08T21:27:00.001-04:00

...Drive home with old dreams at play in my mind and the wind at my back

- Genesis 3:23 by The Mountain Goats

Hey guys!

I remembered that I had an entire folder of photos from a hike I took about two months ago. I'm currently feeling sad that I won't be able to go to camp this summer, so I'm appreciating nature in whatever form I can get.

I've decided that since I don't really post art anymore, I would use the song lyric title idea for my photography posts instead. If you don't listen to the Mountain Goats already, you should.

(Click the pictures to make them bigger.)

At the beginning of the trail there were these huge rocks. This picture is too close to get the scale, but most of them were taller than me.

I took a short detour into this clearing because it was pretty. It turned out to be a trail to one of their campsites.

*cough* selfpromo *cough* This picture was the inspiration for the imagery in this series on Sincerely, Lanie!

I took a lot of pictures in this creek because I couldn't get over the fantasy vibes.

Most of the photos had my brother in them. This one lets you see how clear the water was and how pretty the sun patterns looked.

This trail marker is pretty, but it looks like a tombstone to me.

Mountain Laurel! These flowers were almost everywhere.

Algae drips on the underside of a waterfall.

Close up drips. Fun fact: I was standing on a thin ledge and holding on to the top of the waterfall with one arm when I took this picture. If I'd slipped, I would have fallen into a pond and probably hurt myself on the rocks. My mom said I made her nervous.

This dog belonged to another hiker. They tried to get him to walk on the rocks, but he clearly wasn't interested.

Red flowers! I'm proud of the light composition in this one.

More Mountain Laurel.

I think they named it Laurel Falls for a reason. ~~Surprisingly,~~ it has nothing to do with my character of the same name.

I didn't expect this photo to turn out, but it's actually one of my favorites.

The theme color for this post is green. The woods were so vibrant.

We opted to take this boardwalk instead of the last part of the trail. It was really pretty, even though we had to walk along the side of the road to get back to our car.

Finally, this pretty birdhouse. I didn't check to see if there were any birds in it.

This is all I have today! Have you been on any hikes recently?

Pride Month Tag {Collab With Andrea from Endless Wonder}

2020-06-13T23:48:00.000-04:00

Hey guys! Happy Pride Month!

This month I decided to collab with my fellow lesbian Andrea, who blogs at Endless Wonder, to bring you a modified version of this Pride tag. This post was a lot of fun to write, so I hope you'll stick around for the whole thing even though it's a bit long.

Here are the questions! My answers are in italics and Andrea's are regular text.

1. Name, identity, and definition of your label?

I’m Lanie, and I’m a lesbian, which means I’m a girl who likes girls and feminine nonbinary people.

Hii, I’m Andea, I’m a lesbian too! Lanie already defined it, so I won’t bother XD.

2. How did you come out, or how would you come out if you plan to?

I've come out more than once to more than one group of people, but my big moment was my blog post announcing that I was bisexual. (Which I am not, but sometimes you do things in the wrong order.) I’d wanted to make it more subtle, but I couldn’t bring myself to come out and possibly leave people with questions.

I came out to a group of my school friends when they asked me if I liked a certain guy, and I was like “uhhh…. I’m gay”. Look. I made it SO AWKWARD. IT WAS THE MOST AWKWARD MOMENT OF MY LIFE AND IT WAS ALL MY FAULT OKAY. My friends were super supportive and mostly like “oh cool, that’s cool” WHILE I WAS JUST BABBLING AND GETTING ALL NERVOUS FOR NO REASON. 0/10 do not recommend, I never officially came out to anyone after that because clearly I cannot be trusted to do it properly, I just mention I have a crush on a girl or that I wanna live in a cottage with a pretty wife when I'm older or whatever and let them catch up (or tell them to follow my instagram, where I spend 90% of my time screaming about how much I love girls) (also I really don't like the concept of having to come out? I hate that it has to be a big thing, it’s not a big thing when I tell people I like writing or reading or doing karate so why should it be a big thing that I like girls?)

3. Have you ever been to a gay pride? What did/would you wear?

No, and I’m a little scared to go because I’m shy. I’d try to dress gay I guess, but I don’t know of any outfit specifically.

Nope! I really don't like crowds or loud music lol, it makes me feel overwhelmed and I'm not sure I’d really enjoy it :(. I definitely do want to go someday though!! No idea what I’d wear, probably just my usual summer outfit which is a superdry shirt and shorts lol.

4. Are you a stereotypical [insert what you identify as]?

No, I’m not a stereotypical lesbian. I’m pretty feminine, haven’t ever moved in with someone on our second date, and while button-up shirts are cute, I don’t really wear flannel. I think the only stereotypical thing about me is that I don’t know how to talk to cute girls.

I guess in some ways? I like flannel button-up shirts, can’t sit right in chairs, and consider making eye contact with a pretty girl across the room to be flirting :P. I’m pretty androgynous in the way I dress too. But what is a stereotypical lesbian anyway? There’s so much diversity!

5. What LGBT+ stereotype you do embody?

I don’t sit in chairs right. The best way to sit is with one foot on the floor and the other in my chair, but other notable positions include having both feet in the chair and leaning my knees against the armrest or sitting with both feet tucked under me.

KEYSMASHES (I started doing them ironically and now they’re 50% of everything I type sdhjkshfks ← perfect example). Also I’m very gender non-comforming and I love wearing quirky and very brightly-coloured clothes (not sure if that’s a stereotype? We’ll say it is.) And I can’t sit in chairs right either XD

6. How does it feel to be yourself?

It’s fantastic. Being comfortable with your identity is the best feeling ever. I’m a lot more confident in myself now than I was a few years ago. I feel like I can embrace all of my identity and other things I might add to it without the fear of change that I had when I was younger.

It’s the BEST feeling! Ever since I started being more open about my attraction to girls, I feel like I've become so much closer to the people around me? I’m a lot more honest and genuine, and I feel like I'm actually sharing with the people I care about, rather than being on the outside looking in if that makes sense, which is how I felt for a lot of my teen years (there’s a lot more to this than just my sexuality, but that was definitely a part of it). I read a quote recently that was something like “I didn’t come out, everyone else just came in,” and that describes my experience perfectly.

7. Have you ever had an LGBT+ partner?
Yep! Both people I've dated have been LGBT+.

Noooooo :( I've never dated anyone :(( WHERE’S MY GIRLFRIEND DANG IT AAAGHHH.

8. Do you have any LGBT+ friends?

I have almost exclusively LGBT+ friends. Even a lot of my childhood friends are gay. I didn’t plan for it to happen this way, but I don’t mind.

Sooo many of my friends (read: like three of them, I don't exactly have a booming social life) have come out as bi recentlyish. I'm fairly convinced straight people don't actually exist?? I also have loads of amazing LGBT+ friends online!

9. What's the best thing about being a part of the community?

I feel understood by other people who have been though similar things. Questioning your sexuality is one of those things that I don’t think you can understand without having been through it yourself.

OKAY BUT THE HUMOUR ON THE GAY SIDE OF SOCIAL MEDIA IS SO GOOD. The memes, the tweets, the Tik Toks… Also having a whole massive community of people who all stand for the same things as you do is great!

10. Do you think representation matters? Why?

YES. Representation is so important. I can point to Dan Howell’s video, Basically I’m Gay, where he says that he didn’t know a single out gay person until he was 18, and that he had no one to look up to. Without representation you have to create your identity without any idea of what a real LGBT person could look like. And then without good representation, LGBT people will believe they’re outsiders, stuck in the world of that one gay side character, when really there are so many of us. To quote a Tumblr post on this topic that I’m too lazy to find, “we come in herds.”

Yesss definitely!! Everyone deserves to see themselves represented in the media, regardless of sexualtity, gender identity, ethnicity, etc. We need to destroy the idea that straight, cisgender, able-bodied white people are the “norm” and everyone else is outside that, and media representation is so necessary for that. As a writer myself, representation is something very important to me and that I take very seriously :).

11. What's your favorite LGBT+ novel?

I loved Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertali (original, I know). I read it while I was questioning, and I found myself thinking about the same things Simon was. I wasn’t afraid of homophobia from the people around me; I was afraid of how their perception of me might change. This book made me feel understood. That’s why representation is so important.

OOF SO MANY. I really loved “Pulp” by Robin Talley, which is a dual-pov novel about two teenage lesbians, one in the 1950s and one in the present day, who are connected by the lesbian pulp novel the 1950s girl wrote, which the contemporary girl reads and becomes obsessed with (yeah it’s a bit confusing but OMG SO GOOD). “Final Draft” by Riley Redgate and “Crier’s War” by Nina Varela are also amazing books with great wlw representation. This one’s not really LGBT+ per se, but “Into the Drowning Deep” by Mira Grant is also so brilliant and I loved the casual inclusion of an f/f couple as the main characters! (Also… shameless self-promo, but I've recently self-published an LGBT coming-of-age novella!! You can find out more here or here if you're in the U.S.)

12. How do you feel when you see a character in a book or movie or TV show who is part of the community?

It makes me happy! I really like seeing LGBT characters, especially as main characters when I wasn’t expecting them. Unfortunately, the excitement isn’t always warranted, because LGBT characters aren’t always well written.

I love it!! As I said before, representation is so important so it makes me really happy when I see LGBT+ characters :)

13. Who's your favorite LGBT+ fictional character?

Jack from Every Heart a Doorway by Seanan McGuire and the sequel (prequel?) Down Among the Sticks and Bones. She’s a mad scientist and I love her (Might be a little gay for her too…)

Omg there’s so many! I love Bill Potts from Doctor Who, I've never related to a fictional harder lol (Captain Jack from DW is also great). Also… Villanelle from Killing Eve absolutely owns my heart. I mean, hot gay assasin? Yes please.

14. If the gay agenda was real, what would our plan be?

Down with the straights. I’m kidding, I don’t hate straight people. I think it would include reducing homophobia and discrimination, more inclusive sex ed, and probably changing our status so people think of us as “normal” instead of “other.”

^^ I agree with Lanie! Equality and inclusion for all would definitely be high on the list.

15. Have you ever been made fun of because of your sexuality?

I’m not sure if it was really because of my sexuality, since the group doing the teasing was also gay, but I was closeted, insecure, and uncomfortable. They upset me on several occasions and I spent the rest of the school year actively avoiding them.

Not that I can think of. I make fun of myself a lot though. (Stuff like: “of course I have no common sense, I emptied out the part of my brain holding my common sense and filled it with love for women instead.”)

16. What do you think about gender stereotypes?

I think that like any stereotype, they shouldn’t be used to make assumptions about people. Of course some people will fit into them, after all, they had to come from somewhere, but I can’t stand when people assume I’ll be a certain way because I’m female.

DOWN WITH GENDER STEREOTYPES. Most of the time they do more harm than good, and everyone should be able to be themselves regardless of their gender! I love breaking gender stereotypes through the way I dress (bow ties are cool), and I really don’t see my gender as having an important effect on who I am and how I behave. The idea that the way you should act, dress, etc. should be dictated by your gender is so dumb to me.

17. Who's your favorite LGBT+ YouTuber?

Dan Howell! That should surprise no one. It’s been so long since he uploaded. I miss him.

I don’t really watch YouTubers oops, but I follow Jessie Paege on Instagram and Tik Tok and she’s awesome!

18. Who was your first crush?

There was a girl in my dance class who I fell for. It took me a while to realized that most people didn’t get nervous and blushy around people they just wanted to befriend. Once I saw her smile while she was watching a dance that I was in, and she was so cute that I messed up the rest of the choreography.

My first conscious crush (i.e. that I actually realised it was a crush) was Ziva David from NCIS when I was fourteen. *facepalm* Look, 90% of my crushes are fictional characters okay. I think my first first crush was this friend I had when I was 9/10, who was a couple of years older than me and had a cool accent and who I thought was sooo cool. I remember looking at her and thinking “she has the prettiest eyes I've ever seen” and also wanting to impress her all the time.... Yeah, it was definitely a crush, even if I didn’t realise it at the time XD.

19. Who's your favorite LGBT+ singer?

At the moment it’s Laura Jane Grace from Against Me!

Probably Girl in Red! I love a lot of her music.

20. What's your favorite color of the rainbow?

Since pink isn’t officially on the rainbow, blue.

Purple!! Purple is the BEST colour fite me >:(

That's all of the questions! Thanks for sticking around to the end. Thanks again to Andrea for doing this with me! Anyone is welcome to do this tag, but I recommend getting the questions from the source so you have the options to do the ones we skipped.

Have a great rest of Pride Month!

Flood Photography

2020-06-04T13:30:00.001-04:00

Large amounts of rain and flooding might become an annual thing. Roughly one year after I published Bad Places and How to Make Them Better, it was raining constantly. I went out to take pictures one day when the water was starting to go down and the sun was out. These photos were taken about three months ago.

(Click the pictures to make them bigger.)

Drains don't do much good when the water is equally high on the other side.

These two geese moved in while the water was still lake-like. I heard them a few times after that, but I never saw their nest.

I love this photo.

I finally made an Instagram account to post my photography a few weeks ago. The username is Minttea_photography if you want to check it out! I won't stop making photography posts on this blog, but I post more often on Instagram.

Since I'd worn my rain boots, I decided to wade out to a rock in the middle of the park. It made a little island that I stood on for a few minutes while I took this picture.

This bridge has sadly taken some permanent damage because of how much it's been underwater.

Sun sparkles! Around this point was when I realized my right boot was leaking. It wasn't bad enough to fill with water, but my sock got wet.

Fern.

I'll add a short life update while I'm here. I took my makeup AP U.S. History exam yesterday, because I was one of the people who hit the submit button during the first test and it didn't work. It was stressful, but I don't have that hanging over my head anymore.

It's Pride Month! At the moment it's not getting much attention on social media because of the Black Lives Matter protests, and I think that's reasonable. I'm considering another journal post to collect my thoughts. If you don't know what's going on, I encourage you to research. I can't help but feel that this is going somewhere.

That's all I have for today. I'm sorry that I disappeared for so long; I've forgotten what time is. I don't intend to go back to posting once a month.

Fifteen Roses for an Apology {Bookshop Episode 6}

2020-05-17T14:13:00.000-04:00

Previously on Tales From The Bookshop

(Because it's been over a year. I'm sorry. If you're new, here's all the previous installments.)
Corey, a freshly unemployed young adult and photography enthusiast, happens to wander into a small bookstore. She meets the owners' son, Rose, who says her life is worthless because she doesn't read. She immediately dislikes him. He invites her to a writer's club and gives her a book written by his mother.
Corey comes to the writer's club to return the book and clashes even more with Rose. After yet another job rejection, though, she decides that Rose's fascination with her is probably enough to get her a job, and she is right. Katelyn and Michael, the owners of the bookshop, reveal that they are secretly time travelers. They adopted Rose from the past.
Rose tries to convince Corey to help him with a writing project. She only agrees for the sake of her job. Katelyn explains how a girl from the future gave her the blueprints for her time machine.

*Intro theme*

   Corey was hanging out behind the counter in the bookshop, watching the three customers and Rose wander between the shelves. The shop hadn't been empty for more than ten or fifteen minutes at a time today. Rose had kept himself busy writing in one of the armchairs, taking intermittent breaks to recommend books to anyone who seemed uncertain. Corey noted that he had picked up a surprising number of books that weren't by Katelyn.
   So she was surprised when he suddenly appeared in front of her, leaning his elbows on the counter. He set down the book he was carrying and slid it toward Corey.
   “If they think you read, you'll seem more approachable,” he whispered. “Do you think you can give recommendations?”
   “No, I don't think so,” Corey replied. “What do you want?”
   He shrugged. “You looked bored; that's all.” He motioned to the book. “This is on the bestseller lists, by the way. You might like it.”
   The bell above the shop door tinkled. Corey shoved Rose out of the way as the customer, a tall woman with bobbed brown hair, approached the counter.
   “Good afternoon!” Corey greeted, her voice cheerfully relieved. “What can I do for you?”
   The woman smiled back, then glanced at Rose, who was still leaning on the counter, just a bit further down.
   “I called earlier about a book.”
   “Oh! Caroline?” she asked the woman, who nodded. “I've got that right here.”
   Corey ducked under the counter, grabbing the copy of Eragon from a stack of several books labelled with names on sticky notes.
   “Here you are.” She passed the book across the counter and punched it into the register.
   As soon as Caroline left, Rose leaned over the counter to talk to her again.
   “How are you today?” he asked.
   Corey sighed, and in her best cashier voice, replied, “I'm doing well. What about you?”
   “I wish you didn't hate me so much.”
   She didn't know how to reply to that. Sure, she hadn't exactly been subtle about her dislike, but she hadn't expected to be confronted like this. Rose watched her, staring expectantly from underneath the curls falling in his face.
   “I'm sorry.”
   “But I'm serious!” Rose insisted. “Is there something I can do? It's really uncomfortable to be stuck in a job with someone who can't stand you, but I'm not mean enough to fire you, even though I probably could.”
   “I appreciate it,” Corey replied. “I'll try to stay out of your way. I just want to pay my bills.”
   “Could we be acquaintances instead of enemies? What do girls talk about? Boys? Girls? I'm pan, so I'm fine with either.” He shrugged playfully.
   She stared at Rose for a minute, keeping the surprise off her face. She hadn't expected that he could be anything other than straight and obnoxious.
   “Uh, boys, in my case,” she replied, realizing she had been silent for an awkwardly long time. This conversation could be going a lot better. “But that's for people that I know well, and if I was making a list of them, I wouldn't include you.”
   Rose looked down for a moment, and Corey felt a wash of relief, because he'd been staring at her forehead for almost five minutes, and it was starting to make her uncomfortable.
   “I'm sorry,” Rose said. Corey said nothing.
   “I might have been a bit intense,” he continued. “I was going to offer to show you around the place where I was born, but is there somewhere else you'd want to go?”
   “I don't think I want to go anywhere,” she replied, not because the idea of exploring the past was uninteresting, but because she didn't want Rose to be her tour guide. Rose nodded. He looked disappointed, but seemed to understand.
   “Excuse me,” said a man behind him. He moved out of the way while Corey rang up and bagged the man's book, the same title that Rose had brought Corey earlier.
   “Come on, isn't there anywhere?” Rose asked. Corey held back a sigh.
   “I'll try to stay out of your way!”
   “We both have jobs to do,” Corey said. “I'll keep manning the register so you can write your book.”
Rose nodded like he was going to resign to his armchair, but then he stopped suddenly. “Where do you like to take pictures?” he asked. “I'll take you somewhere like that! You can't convince me you don't want to wander somewhere like that.”
   He was right, and Corey was cornered.
   “Alright,” she admitted. “I want to go to a city.”
   Rose broke into a grin. “I knew it! Which city? And how old?”
   She frowned. “I guess that's up to you,” she said. She had no idea where she might end up, but the idea of old cities before they'd become worn down like they were now. “I'm no historian, right?”

♡ ♡ ♡

I already apologized, but I'm going to do it again. I'm sorry for pausing this series for so long. Now that I'm wandering aimlessly between writing projects until I decide it's time to edit Scouts, I intend to finish it. I've accepted that this story isn't and won't be my best work, but I feel like I owe it to one person specifically. They know who they are.
I hope you enjoyed the return of Corey and Rose. I looked up flower symbolism for the title. I don't think there's romantic connotation to it, but if there is it's coincidental.
That's all my commentary for this episode. The next one should be out soon.

How I Journal

2020-05-09T11:35:00.003-04:00

Hey guys!

I've kept a journal for about 3 years now. I like recording how my days go, and it's also helpful for remembering dates and events. I think I've finally developed a style I'm proud of, so I decided it was time to make a post talking about my process. If you keep a journal or want to start one, I hope you'll be inspired by some of the things I include.
First, let me clarify that I don't bullet journal. The idea of trying to be that organized and artistic stresses me out, but I admire the people who do it. I would describe my style as a diary composed of bullet points about what was on my mind that day.

These are a few of the materials I use for my journal. The journal with stars on it is currently blank. I'm going to share part of my process for setting it up.
To make pages fun and colorful, I have a set of rainbow pens, as well as some stickers and even sticky notes occasionally. I want to get some washi tape to tape things onto the backs of pages, but I haven't been to a craft store in a while for obvious reasons.

On the inside of the cover, I write quotes and song lyrics that mean something to me. I strategically took this photo so you can't read the quotes (sorry). They're usually inspirational or describe how I feel, but I don't have any rules about what I write there.

This is the opening page for the journal that I just filled, although it still had a few pages left when I took this picture. I write in the date I started the journal and leave a space for the date that I filled it. I add a quote and some doodles and stickers to take up the rest of the page. I write "keep out" usually, because I'm an eight-year-old at heart.
Speaking of being eight: may I direct your attention to the mermaid sticker. It's from American Girl Magazine, and they had some of the cutest stickers ever. The sticker pages even have designs printed on them, so of course I cut those out to use, too.

This is what most pages look like. My handwriting is very messy, but maybe you can see the bullet points. I can fit 1-3 entries on a page, depending on length. I include things like moods, notable occurrences, dreams, songs I listened to on repeat, and sometimes random doodles of snakes, like in the entry above.

My thoughts don't always come out in bullet points, though. Sometimes ideas work better in poetry. My journal poetry is bad on average, but if it turns out well, I'll share it. I write heartfelt letters to friends (that I never give them because I'm too shy.) I add goals or to-do lists when there's something on my mind.

I love taping things onto the backs of pages. It gives the journal a scrapbook-y feel. (Side note, isn't that such an adorable Valentine?)

At the end of every journal, I make a page summarizing some noteworthy events. I don't have a photo of this page, because it's a bit too personal to publish. It's meant to be both a reference for those events and a reflection on how my life has been for the past few months.

The blank first page of my new journal!
(Now that I've admitted these were all outdoor photos, I should also tell you that it was raining, and I was sitting on the front porch in my pajamas with the door open. I had a tablecloth spread across the porch and the front hallway for a background. I must have looked crazy to the people who walked by, but I feel that part of being a good photographer is deciding not to care.)

I decided to have a green theme for my opening page. As you can see, this is my sixth journal, and I'm proud of that.

The (almost) finished opening page! (I added my name after I took the photo.) I'm super happy with how the flowers came out. The music note and pencil stickers are from AG magazine. I dread the day when I run out of their stickers.
This was a long post, but I hope you found it interesting. Here's to another six-ish months of writing down my life! Do you journal?

Stories and Sketches Creative Tag

2020-04-25T23:52:00.000-04:00

Hi guys! It's been a bit since I did a tag, and I've had lots of time to create recently, as evidenced by the fact that I'm posting every week again. When I saw this tag on Notebooks and Novels, I thought it would be fun to try. I liked reading Miciah's answers, so you should check out her post, too!

This tag was created by Elizabeth Anne from Stories and Sketches. There are four questions. I'll put them at the bottom of the post if you're interested in doing this tag yourself.

1. What is your favorite way to create?

Between photography, writing, and drawing*, writing is definitely my favorite. I'm still learning all of those things (do you ever stop learning as an artist?), but I understand how to create things with words better than I can with a pencil or camera. I've represented all three mediums in this post!

I write lots and lots of stories, share things on my blogs, and keep a journal. That's a lot of writing. Fun fact, I've logged 163,404 words on the NaNoWriMo site, and those aren't even all the words I've written for NaNo events. (The site transfer lost two events worth of updates... I'm not upset...)

Anyway, I write so much because there's a lot to write about. I hear, see, and feel things, and I want to put them into words. I write mostly fiction, and I think the well of things that aren't real, but make good stories, is probably bottomless.

2. What is your favorite quote about creativity?

This question made me realize that I don't know any off the top of my head, so I looked for some. Here are two that I liked.

“Draw the art you want to see, start the business you want to run, play the music you want to hear, write the books you want to read, build the products you want to use – do the work you want to see done.” - Austin Kleon

"Everyone's different inside their head." - From Radio Silence by Alice Osman.

As the second one is from a book and I can't remember what context it was said in, I'm hesitant to call it a creative quote, but it's a good quote either way.

3. How do you overcome “creative block”?

Usually, my creative blocks aren't caused by a lack of ideas. A block on one project means that my heart wants to write something else right then. I got tired of writing Scouts several times during the two years I was drafting it. I changed focus and created other things, but I knew I would come back to Scouts because I loved my characters and their story. Switching projects (for short periods) helps make sure I don't hit a full creative wall on everything.

If I don't feel like creating anything, I wait it out. It's not very helpful to push on when I'm burned out. I try to keep up with my journal so that I'm still writing, even if it isn't particularly impactful.

4. What inspires you to create?

Most of my writing inspiration comes from music.
My short stories and other small pieces (like Lights that We Fade In and To My Favorite Liar) almost always have one or several songs behind them. Scouts has a two hour long playlist of songs that represent plot points and characters. I like to title the stories after the songs that inspired them, so if you see a title that seems familiar, there's a good chance it's a song lyric.

I'm also inspired by things around me, like nature. I consider my thoughts and the circumstances that I find myself in inspiration, too, because I write about them.
(That's a lot of links in one section. Choose wisely.)

You guys know I'm awful at tagging people. If you have a creative blog, I tag you!
The questions are:

What is your favorite way to create?
What is your favorite quote about creativity?
How do you overcome "creative block"?
What inspires you to create?

Tell me something you've created recently in the comments.

I Finished My WIP and It's Party Time

2020-04-19T13:36:00.001-04:00

Yes, you read the title right. I finished the first draft of Scouts!
That didn't have quite the impact I was hoping for.
I FINISHED THE FIRST DRAFT OF SCOUTS!!!!!

The Scouts of the Apocalypse (it's not a great title, but I'm working on it), otherwise known as Scouts, is the biggest writing project I've ever worked on. As of the end of draft one, this is my synopsis:

The Scouts of the Apocalypse

"Stop calling it that. In the apocalypse, you don't get rescued."
"And what if we don't?"
   Cole has always envied how self-sufficient his best friend Jenna seems. They rely on each other so much they're nearly family, but neither of them expect how much self-sufficiency they'll need after they and two new friends sneak out for an overnight adventure that lasts far longer than overnight. A sudden disaster leaves the four stranded in the ruins of North America. They name themselves "the Scouts of the Apocalypse" and start walking.
   Laurel's heart aches for his beloved adoptive family. The three strangers he's traveling with could never fill the gap. He feels homeless again, forced to trust people he's just met with everything he is. He wants nothing more than to throw himself into his moms' arms again.
   Mavis has never understood the power of nature like this before. They feel small and aimless as they wander on empty roads, and they feel distant from their group of friends. Frequent clashing with Jenna over what is right and wrong isn't helping things.
   As close as Cole is to Jenna, the people they meet on their journey threaten to drive them apart. Would she really leave Cole rather than say goodbye to someone she just met? For the first time in his life, though, Cole has Mavis, another transgender person to lean on. They help him learn how to speak up for himself.
   Jenna isn't worried about leaving behind her family. She's glad for the freedom from their stifling rules of what a girl should be, but she finds herself fighting with the other Scouts almost as much. Old and new friends pull her in different directions, cornering her in too many hard decisions.
   Laurel, Mavis, Cole, and Jenna grow closer as they search for their families, or maybe just somewhere that feels like home.

♡ ♡ ♡

The first draft is 95, 502 words long. It began two years ago with Young Volcanoes by Fall Out Boy, four character names, and some funny (but terrible) dialogue.

    “A boy scout is always prepared!” Laurel recited.
    “Laurel, you have never been a boy scout,” Mavis said flatly.
    “But a boy can dream,” Laurel said. “Maybe we can all be boy scouts.”
    “We aren’t all boys though,” Jenna countered. “Pick something we all have in common.”
    “So then we’ll be the Gay Scouts!” Laurel exclaimed. Mavis snorted.

I have to cringe reading this, but that's where these four started. Not pictured: Cole, who was very quiet for the first few chapters. In this scene, the Scouts name themselves, and they start the journey across the United States that makes up the rest of the book. All of my characters are LGBT+ because I enjoy reading books with queer casts. (If anyone thinks this is unrealistic, I urge you to ask a gay person about their friend group.)
Here's a bit about each character, along with the Picrews I made for them. I've only drawn Mavis, and it would be unfair to only share their appearance and no one else's.
All art in the following pictures belongs to the artists linked as sources.

(source)

This is Jenna! She's an asexual lesbian, and she's been Cole's best friend since they were little. Her outgoing personality and bold ideas are what bring the Scouts together at the beginning of the story.

(source)

This is Laurel! He's bisexual. He and his two siblings are adopted, and he loves his family more than anything. He likes dogs. He isn't very athletic, but he enjoys the outdoors and has a few random camping skills.

(source)

This is Cole! He's a trans boy with dreams of being a baseball player, and he plays several other sports, too. He's shy, but very loyal, and he's most likely a Hufflepuff. He would do anything for his friends.

(source)

This is Mavis! They're genderqueer and very spiritual. They love taking care of kids. Mavis might seem dry or irritable at first, but they do have a sappy side once you get to know them.

I'm so proud of myself for this accomplishment. I've never finished a project of this scale before. After spending two years on this project, it feels strange to have an ending. I keep thinking about it and going, wow, I wrote a book (sort of). Then I wonder what to do now. My current checklist goes like this:

Let the story and characters chill out in the back of my brain for at least a month.
Rename my cast, because all my names are either bland or stolen from friends.
Write a full, detailed outline, including individual scenes.
Write character profiles for my main cast and important side characters
Start the second draft.

I'll admit this post was a bit of a mess, but I'm excited. Thank you for your time.

Peach Blossom Appreciation

2020-04-12T15:52:00.000-04:00

The peach trees in my yard bloomed a few weeks ago. I took so many photos of them. They're so pretty that I can't resist! Plus, photography makes me feel like I'm doing something productive instead of just standing outside and staring at the flowers.
Click the pictures to make them bigger.

I love how the bright pink and green contrasts with the bright blue spring sky.

By now, the blossoms have fallen off and the leaves have come out. I'm sad that I can't see the flowers anymore, but in their place are little peaches a bit bigger than the tip of my finger. This tree grew buckets and buckets of ripe peaches last summer, so now we wait for this batch to grow.

A visitor! I love taking pictures of bees.

I have so many pictures of these flowers. I could go on for ages.

I love how vivid these colors are.

I saw a few smaller bees around that might have been honeybees, but carpenter bees like this one are a lot bigger and easier to photograph.

I don't have any deep message to share in this post. I just really like flowers and bees.
What signs of spring have you been seeing?