Day Five – My Birthday!!

Today is my birthday! And in honor of myself (lol), I will write a birthday story!

Once upon a time, there was a woman, who was very pregnant with a baby. She was very excited; it was to be her second child, and her first daughter. She hadn’t thought of a name yet for the baby, so she and her husband affectionately called her “Pudge”.

Everything was well, she was in good health, and she continued to go to work everday as usual, since the baby wasn’t due until September.

One morning, while the woman was at work, she suddenly began to experience sharp pains in her stomach. She thought it was unusual, but it didn’t trouble her much. Just to err on the side of caution, she called the doctor.

“It feels like the baby is scratching me with her finger nails,” she told the nurse on the phone.

The nurse’s stern voice was unwelcome and startling. “You need to get to the hospital NOW.”

Disturbed, but not upset, the woman went home to talk to her husband, who was home from work. The year was 1990, and unfortunately having cell phones was not a common practice. Once she arrived at home, she found her husband in the backyard, fixing their boat. She related her story to him, and he stopped working to go inside and shower, as he was coverd in grease, so that they could go to the hospital. There was no sense of urgency, only confusion.

Unfortunately, the harsh reality of the situation wasn’t realized until the man and woman arrived at the hospital, and the woman began going into labor. By the time she arrived, it was too late to stop the baby from coming.

Their daughter was born, weighing in at around 3 pounds. She was terribly ill, as she was nearly 10 weeks early, and her lungs were not fully developed. She had trouble breathing, and she was still too small to know how to suckle and was unable to drink from a bottle. The doctors whisked her away from her mother and father, to Intensive Care.

Her mother sat in the rocking chair in the birthing room, where new mothers held their newborns, and cried. Her child’s future was still uncertain.

She would make it, the doctors said finally, but her family could not touch her, for fear of illness. She was a baby in a glass box, struggling to survive. The doctors told her family that she may have to stay in the hospital for the next three months to ensure her health.

The family came to see her every day, talking and singing to her through the glass, and using the special gloves to touch her and hold her tiny hands. With her family by her side, the baby began to thrive, despite the odds against her.

Three weeks later, she came home with her mother, father, brother and sister, where she was greeted by her grandparents, whose misunderstanding of “Pudge” over the telephone lead the baby to be named “Paige”.


Day Four – Got A Story For Ya, Ags!

This is just a little piece that I was thinking about. It really has no plot and doesn’t really give away any of the story, but…It should be a little bit entertaining. Happy reading!

The snow was light and silent as it fell to the forest floor. It was already thick enough that Joseph sank up to his knees, and he paused after several moments of forcing his way through. His breaths came in short gasps, and sweat was beading on his brow.

How long had he been searching? How far had he gone?

He was losing track of time, and the light that peeked through the clouds and managed to penetrate the trees was no help. He drew a ragged breath.

Was it even worth it to press on? Who was he really helping? Did it do any good to search for Abigail and Snow Belle, when he knew they were possibly miles away already?

He sank into the snow at the base of a large oak tree. A constricting feeling was creeping into his chest; one he knew all too well. It reminded him of the days he had spent on the run, shivering in the dark cold, trying to remind himself of why it was necessary to survive.

His life still had a purpose.

He pressed his hands to his cheeks to try to bring feeling back into them. They were soaked through, just like the rest of him, and he knew he would have to find shelter soon. The daylight couldn’t last much longer, and the Gandorian winter was bitter and deadly.

His thoughts shifted back to the wolf he had seen; or rather, the man lost inside the wolf. If he wasn’t careful, the beast could take control, and that was the last thing he needed. There was no rescue from that. Once instinct took over thought, his human mind would become a slave to his wolf blood.

As he forced himself to his feet, he tried to steel himself. It was a fight for survival now. Everything inside him was trying to force him to shift into the form he knew best, but he held it at bay.

The wolf had too much control, and if he let go now, he would never get it back.

Day Three – Reflections

I’m a little bit behind today. I’ve been so busy, working on my feature story and trying to find a good way to get my book published. Oh well…

So my thought for today is character development. For instance, in my story “The Heart of the Guardian”, as I transcribe it from my notebook to my computer, I am redeveloping my characters.

My two main characters are Abigail and Joseph. Abigail is a warrior with a penchant for being ice-cold, while Joseph is a banished prince, forced to live in a world that will not accept his true nature.

Abigail is defined by an ice-blue gaze and pale hair and skin. She is warm with her brother, her only family left, but she is cold and calculating with any one else she doesn’t know or trust. She is tough and tries to ignore the curse put upon her that is slowly killing her.

Joseph is somewhat the opposite. He is a wolf-child, borne out of a magic land that produces creatures that are part human and part beast. He is dominated by human feelings and wolf-like senses. He started out as being a character of little importance, but as I have been reforming my story as I type it, he has become the prince of a fallen king, and holds a key role. He is the one who can guide Abigail into the Land of the Phoenix, and the one who can help her penetrate the walls of Castle Quasar where Bozal, the evil ruler, lives. Unfortunately, he is also the one that Bozal would love to enslave more than any other being in Phoenix, as his father was a legendary war-lord who taught Joseph everything he knew before Joseph was forced to flee across the border to Gandora.

As some people know, I am a terrible romantic, and I love to make characters fall in love with each other. I would dreadfully love to do that with Abigail and Joseph, but I feel like they are too different to really be lasting lovers. Joseph is driven by a sense of duty, compelled to return home because of the Call to be with his Pack, while Abigail is driven by destiny and desperation. Joseph must rise to a position he wishes he could escape, while Abigail must fulfill a promise made by her ancestors and break a killing curse.

Is it possible that duty can be stronger than love? I believe so. I also believe that being used is what ultimately will break the bonds that they could share. Joseph will feel used by Abigail; Abigail will feel betrayed by Joseph’s desire to reunite with his blood-brothers.

Now then, if only I can incorporate this into my story….

Day Two

So I have been working on my book today, and I must say that it is getting really intense. I am finally feeling like I am finding a direction for the last part of it, which is both a good feeling and a bad feeling. It means I am finally piecing together how this series will end, but it also means the ending of my working on it.

This book has been my life for the past 5 years. What will I do once I have finished it? The thought is unnerving and exhilarating at once.

My characters are finally starting to develop into who they have to be, and it saddens me because I want them to stay my “babies” forever. I worry about what my life will be like when they have done what they have needed to acoomplish all these years.

I’m sure I will have other projects and other things to work on, but nothing makes my heart race the way Jet and Nyx do. Nothing is so wonderful and painful and frustrating as their relationship and their adventure story. I truly love them, and I will be sad to see them go. Hopefully others will find their story as amazing as I have.

Hopefully I will have done them justice with the words on the pages that they are forever written into.

Day One – Moose

One of my projects for when the summer began, besides working on my books, was to start training my horse, Moose, for pleasure and trail riding. So far, I feel as if I have accomplished nothing with him. I have had the time to ride him maybe five times, and two of those five have ended up with me on the ground and considerably unhappy. Some background on Moose may be necessary to understand my frustration.

Moose is a mustang. According to the BLM, his freeze brand indicates that he was born in Kansas at a ranch called Grenola. His birth date is 5/1/09, so he just turned 3 years old. He has very good ground manners for being so young, and he takes a saddle and bridle very well. He will let me ride him and responds well to going and stopping and turning, but he will not move faster than a walk. I have worked with him on lunging and he knows what I expect when I say “Walk on”, “Trot” and “Step out” on the ground. He understand “Whoa” and will stop when I ask. However, it is when I try to give these commands from the saddle that we have problems. I have tried to trot him, both off a line and on a line, and the two times that I have done this he has bucked me off.

I cannot afford to keep a horse that I cannot work with, but I also am not ready to give up on him yet. He is still very young, and I realize that most people advise waiting until they are 4 or 5 years old to begin riding, and now is a very critical time in his training. I am afraid to ride him again, not only because I don’t want to be bucked off, but also because if he throws me again, I am afraid it will set the standard for any and all future rides and riders. I have decided that I need to restart him, and one of the methods I want to use is by Monty Roberts.

Monty has written a book called “The Man Who Listens to Horses”, and I am going to read it. I want to try some of Monty’s techniques, including Join Up. Supposedly, Monty can join up with a horse and have it saddled, bridled and ridden in 30 minutes. I don’t expect this with Moose, but I am hopeful Monty’s techniques can work with him. This is the link to Monty’s website:

Any advice from anyone who has used this method would be highly appreciated, as would any advice about how to keep Moose from bucking me off.