#must say nix was one of the best period of time i suppose

[ventus-item]

Some sona through years i guess

[jaywrites101]

Ye Olde Tag Game

I was tagged by @bexminx, thanks a bunch for the tag. There’s something about these games that just gets me pumped for writing.

1: What book have you read a million times and would read a million times more? And why?

Keys to the Kingdom, by Garth Nix. I grew up with the series, reading them nearly as much as Harry Potter. It’s an older series, but you should check them out.

2: Which OC of your current wip did you come up with first?

That would be The Wingman. Our foolishly optimistic hero who’s on death’s door.

3: What piece of world-building gave or is giving you the most trouble?

I suppose (for now) that would be the gang initiations. I’ve never been in a gang (thank God!) so the only bit’s I kinda-sorta know are the stuff they show you on T.V. and that has a hit-and-miss track record. And I have ZERO interest in finding someone IRL who is/was in a gang for research purposes so-o-o-o... I’m just taking my best guess at the experience and hoping it doesn’t break everyone’s suspension of disbelief.

In the past, other struggles with worldbuilding also came from things I hadn’t experienced first hand or met someone who’s dealt with that issue before.

4: What type of scene is your favorite to write? Why?

Rising action scenes. Every time. I get wrapped up in my own intensity as the stakes get higher and higher. Anywhere you think to yourself whoa, that got tense fast. I’m sitting on the other end of the process going I know, right?!? Like it’s legit so much fun for me to just keep winding things up.

5: (Stealing this one) What chapter of your main wip is your favorite? Why?

I’ve not been writing on The City in FreeFall long enough to have a favorite yet =( But, for A Treasure Made of Death, I had a lot of love for my section titled Exploration and Frustration. It was the last time I had to really be fun before all the characters had to gear up for the intense action. And a lot of fun was had. =D Drake tried so hard to find something useful in this scene only for him to not even recognize a book when he (or more accurately, when Dela) found one.

6: If your OCs were transplanted into another genre (say, fantasy to sci-fi or sci-fi to horror), what would their new occupations be?

I could very easily see The Wingman transplanted into a horror film just to be that guy that gets killed because he was the one person to try to do the sensible thing. (Sensible things never work in horror films.)

7: How well would you survive if you were dropped into the world of your main wip?

Actually, Pretty well... Even if I was literally dropped into the world of The City in FreeFall, I’m pretty confident that The Wingman will catch me before anything bad happens.

8: Which of your OCs is the scariest, or if none are scary, which is the sweetest? Why?

That depends on how we want to define scary. I have characters who don’t rate very high on the unusual or spooky meters but their absolutely terrifying in implication. Like the Casual Killer from A Simple Casual Murder.  But if we’re going for the “I met this thing in a haunted house and my soul left my body from fear alone.” We’re going to have to go with Blane Cook. Cook is a monster of a man who loves torturing people before killing them. Low key, he could star in his own horror film.

9: What would you say was the one thing that sparked the idea for your main wip?

I was watching the first season of Legends of Tomorow and I really didn’t like what they did to Kendra and Carter’s characters. Like, Hawkgirl and Hawkman have so much potential if you’re rebooting their origin story but they were the blandest characters of the season!  So I was thinking of Superheroes and how I’d create my own when I felt the urge to write the idea page for CFF. And thus The Wingman was born!

10: Describe the space you write in like you’re telling a story.

I’ll start at the table, my laptop plugged in. My cat’s try to help me write by sitting on my keyboard. My brother’s watching T.V. in the living room. The cats won’t stop biting the charger, I have to make a choice. Spray-bottle or move... I choose to move. Nowhere I sit is good today. My room? Too dark, too cluttered. The living room is too loud. In a fit of despiration, I grab a card table and a folding chair and sit outside. The heat hit’s me like a wave. Bugs cry out from the woods. Our outdoor cats rub against my ankles looking for attention. But they don’t jump on the table. My fingers fly across the keyboard. What will I write next? Even I don’t know.

A pause.

The next line occurs to me. I write it down as fast as I can before the train of thought leaves me forever. The sun is straight above me. I’m drowning in my own sweat. My concrete porch is protected by a wooden roof that wasps now claim as their home. I itch at my feet, in my socs, on my leg, and down my back. Flies, I hope. I write the next line and pray it’s not spiders. And why should it be spiders? They don’t like humans... I swat at my itches aggressively. The cat’s look at me like I’m a madman. The porch is too safe. Too close to the wall. Bugs won’t leave me alone. I move to the grass underneath the massive oak. It’s the biggest tree I’ve ever seen, probably the biggest in the state. I can’t help but admire it as I sit beneath limbs that are bigger around than I am. The chair sinks three inches into the wet grass again. I don’t have to sit here for long, just long enough to finish the scene.

I can’t do it!

The bugs are maddening. I can’t stop itching! 

What line was I on? What line is next?? I have to re-read what I wrote. No time to edit, just focus. The. Next. Line. Is... There! Back on track again. The scene is so close to finishing. Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a room that locked, or a table inside that filled with loving cats! It’s not their fault. They don’t understand why it’s so important to-

It’s finished! I’m a week behind my schedule, but my bit for today is done! I can go inside, so I do. A shower awaits! When I’m done I can get on Twitter, on Tumblr and watch more YouTube videos on the couch. I didn’t get a call today either... Summer’s already began but no one wants to hire a starving author from nowheresville when there are teens eagerly applying for jobs. I must be a madman...

I must be a madman...

I must be...

11: What is the first thing you remember reading and thinking ‘This inspires me to write’?

You know what? I’m not sure. When I started, I got that “I want to write,” moment when I turned in my assignment for our eighth-grade English assignment. We were supposed to make up a story based around a butterfly we spend a period drawing and while everyone else turned in their 1 and a half page minimum I had seven pages... and it still wasn’t finished... ^///^

One of my other teachers heard about the incident and said that I should be a writer and I just... liked the idea of it. It was like the perfect glove, a shoe that was just my size. It felt right. And I’ve wanted to write ever since.

SO, I know at least some of you might be concerned about the above story. Don’t be. It is just a story.

I did go outside to write the other day, but it wasn’t nearly that bad... mostly. There’s not really a good place to write in my house and I do move around a lot... but I wrote this as if it was happening to someone else. My thoughts are so meta-focused that it’s hard to imagine what I’d do, say, or think in any given scenario... Makes it easy to get into other character’s heads... not so much for my own.

Sorry if I scared you.

@ If you see this post. You’re tagged! No excuses! Like and reblog now. (because I can see you. =P) and make your own tag responses. (Also don’t forget to go to bexminx at the top of the page and give her a few likes as well.)

[firelord-frowny]

I stayed up last night/this morning not just to rant about men being annoying, but also to write about Madison deciding to visit his aunt in Boston on a whim.

I’m not sure what I have against calling ahead before I show up at people’s homes. I guess I worry that they’ll tell me I’m not welcome if they have the chance, even though I can’t think of a time where that’s actually happened. Genevieve would say that it’s just my dumb aspirations of melodrama that makes me do it, and I’m starting to think that she’s right about me a lot more often than I’m comfortable with. 

Nix offered to drive me to my Aunt Carol’s place, but I opted for an uber instead - going with Nixon would have made it too easy to chicken out. 

I’ve never been to my mom’s hometown before. If Greg hadn’t offed himself, I’m sure she’d have arranged to be buried here. But Greg is buried in Maryland, so that’s where mom is, too. 

The uber driver did his best to make smalltalk with me. Honestly, I had gotten pretty good at small talk. Good enough that I often got described as “charismatic” or “the life of the party” and occasionally also “annoying, for the love of god, shut the hell up.” But for the last year or so, saying as little as possible was the surest way I knew to stay safe, so I’m out of practice, I guess.

The driver commented, “I’ve lived around here all my life, but I don’t think I’ve ever been up in this neck of the woods.” This neck of the woods is streets lined with small two-story colonial-style houses that looked like something you’d see in a Lifetime period drama about sad housewives. American flags, rocking chairs and porch swings, droopy-faced basset hounds… all that was missing was Ashokan Farewell playing in the background. The driver asked, “This your neighborhood?” 

I said, “No. Just visiting family.” 

He said, “So, you must be from Boston proper.” 

I said, “I’ve never even been to Massachusetts till today.” 

He said, “Damn. You’re New York, then.” 

I said, “No.”

“Jersey.” 

“Uh uh.” 

“Where?”

I said, “D.C.” 

He blew out a bunch of air and shook his head like he lost a bet. “Damn. You sound like a yankee.”

I said, “Yikes.” 

I do sound like a yankee, and I sound that way because my mom sounded like a yankee. Jefferson sounded like a northern Virginian factory worker, if there’s such a specific thing, and Gregory sounded like Jefferson, and since there was no way I’d ever model myself even remotely after Jefferson, I only had my mom to go on, especially, I guess, since I never really had any friends growing up. When I finally did meet Nix and the rest of them, I think I mellowed out some of the accent, but it’s still around, and I don’t really notice it unless someone points it out. 

I explained a minimal amount of this information to the driver when he asked, and then finally, thankfully, the ride was over. I got out and he drove off and suddenly I was alone in this antebellum-looking neighborhood with cracks in the asphalt and paint peeling off of the houses. 

Aunt Carol’s house had a rocking horse on the porch. A tricycle leaning against the railing. A bucket of sidewalk chalk tipped over on one of the steps. I walked up and pressed the doorbell - it sort of caved right in, broken, wiring sticking out slightly. So I picked up the little knocker and tapped it against the door a few times. I don’t think I’ve ever knocked on a door that way before. 

I heard running inside, and then a voice: “Grandma, there’s somebody at the door.” A kid, young enough to still say R’s like W’s. 

Then I heard Aunt Carol’s voice and I suddenly realized how fucking scared I was and that I only had a few seconds to book it before she saw me. But I stayed put. She said to the kid, “Go finish getting your backpack ready.” And then she opened the door. 

She flinched when she saw me. She actually gasped and her heart went to her chest. I croaked, “I’m sorry.” 

The last time Aunt Carol and I spoke was on the phone after the funeral when I told her I didn’t want my mom’s ‘assets.’ She told me to call her if I ever needed anything, and I told her that I didn’t think I’d ever call, and she said, “Well, you’re welcome to anyway.” And then I said bye and hung up. 

The first thing she said to me on the porch was “...What…?” 

I said, already backing up, “I can go. If this is a bad time. I can come back. Or I can just. Go.” 

She stepped toward me and opened the door wider. “No, no, it’s okay. I’m just getting the grandkids ready… Maynard’s picking them up any minute-...” She glanced behind me, and I turned to see a pickup truck pulling up. “Oh, that’s him now. You remember your cousin Maynard, don’t you?” 

Maynard was already parked and getting out. I don’t think I factored in the possibility that I’d be running into more relatives than just Aunt Carol. 

I do remember my cousin Maynard. He’s seven years older than me, and when I was little, he came with Aunt Carol to visit my mom. He was a bully. He kept trying to shove dirt down the back of my underwear. So Greg punched him in the chest and then yanked his underwear up so hard that he cried.

Now Maynard is 33 and apparently the father of two children. I wonder if he ever tried to shove dirt in their underwear. 

Aunt Carol said to Maynard before he could ask, “It’s your cousin, Madison! Remember Madison?” 

Maynard had this look on his face like he was annoyed to see me, but polite enough to at least try to make it look like he wasn’t annoyed to see me. He said, “Right… been a while. Since, uh…” 

He was going to say “the funeral,” but we didn’t actually see each other at the funeral, and we didn’t see each other because I was barely there. I didn’t even get dressed up. I didn’t even want to go, but Steven guilt tripped me into it, and I guess in retrospect I’m glad he did. It took all six of my friends to get me to follow through - I sat in the front pew for maybe all of 15 minutes while guests were still arriving, and I think I only let the priest get two or three sentences into his sermon before I got up and walked out. Then my friends and I drove around in Julius’s van for an hour or so while they convinced me to attend the burial. So we showed up at the cemetery, and Nix had to pull me by the hand to get me to actually go over to the plot before it was too late. 

I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like to be a son at his parents funeral. But I don’t think the way I felt was the way it was supposed to feel. I felt like nobody there knew or cared that I was her son and that she was my mom. I mean, shit, I know that’s kind of the bed I made for myself - being a standoffish little prick all the time, and whatnot. Yeah, Jefferson did his best to make it look like he only had one son, and yeah, mom let him do it, but I didn’t have to keep being so ornery once Jefferson was in jail. I could have finally had a real relationship with my mom, and I could have met her friends, and I could have just… been around. And been pleasant. But I didn’t. And damn, I really felt that at the funeral. I should have been the most important person there, but I made sure that I wasn’t, and then I pitied myself over it. I think this is the melodrama Genevieve was talking about. 

Anyway, Maynard opted not to finish his sentence and instead just said, “Good to see you.”

I said, “Yeah.” 

Aunt Carol said, hugging herself a bit, “Come on inside so I can close this door. It’s chilly.” 

Maynard gestured for me to go first, so I did. Aunt Carol called out to the kids, “Tam-Tam! Vicky! Come meet your cousin!” 

A toddler and a slightly older kid came running, curious and giggly, but Maynard said to the older kid, “Actually, take Tam-Tam to the truck and wait there for me. We gotta go.” 

[bharatiyamedia-blog]

'The BJP is as much as mischief' | Interview - Nation Information

http://tinyurl.com/y5n7gjkf In an interview with Moazum Mohammad at his Gupkar Street dwelling in Srinagar, former Jammu and Kashmir chief minister and Nationwide Convention (NC) vice-president Omar Abdullah talks in regards to the deferring of the meeting ballot in J&Okay election and his social gathering’s tie-up with the Congress. Excerpts: The simultaneous state ballot plan has been nixed… The official cause is insufficient safety, which I discover shocking as a result of I used to be witness to 3 assurances on the identical by Union dwelling minister Rajnath Singh-in the Lok Sabha, the Rajya Sabha and at an all-party assembly known as by international minister Sushma Swaraj after Balakot. Clearly, there may be mischief afoot. Q. Are you blaming the BJP? The BJP is in energy on the Centre and so they appear comfy with governing by way of the Raj Bhavan. They’ve a whole lot of their agenda applied throughout governor’s rule. Q. New Delhi made some questiona­ble amendments simply earlier than polls have been ann­ounced. Is there a bigger design behind it? In impact, they diluted Article 370. I hope there isn’t any bigger design behind it. They’ve to carry the state ballot. The Supreme Courtroom has mandated or not it’s held inside six months. Q. Operation All-Out, launched in 2017, was geared toward wiping out militants. Has it made the state of affairs extra conducive for elections? No one will say the setting is good for elections. However we now have had elections in worse conditions, like in 1996 and 2002. The state of affairs has deteriorated since 2014. However that’s the BJP-PDP’s fault. Sadly, all of us must face the repercussions. Q. Put up-Pulwama, Kashmiris have been attacked exterior the Valley. Is the alienation worse now? In fact, it’s. We should be taught from international locations like New Zealand, how they responded to the Christchurch assault and the way we reply to our minorities when incidents like Pulwama occur. Those that attacked Kashmiris and known as for his or her boycott, they’ve executed extra hurt to the concept of Kashmir as part of India than something Pak­istan has executed up to now 30 years. Q. You accused Prime Minister Narendra Modi of constructing a multitude of Kashmir… In case you have a look at parameters that have an effect on ‘normalcy’ in J&Okay, like road viole­nce, loss of life of safety forces, kids becoming a member of militancy, all these have worsened after PM Modi took workplace. Q. The NC has tied up with the Congress for the LS polls. Is it a part of the mahagathbandhan? The mahagathbandhan is a deceptive time period. Mainly, what we now have now are localised alliances with the Congress and regional events. Q. What’s the NC agenda for the LS ballot? Our agenda is centred round Article 35A and Article 370. The def­ence of it, each in Parliament in addition to within the courts. It is why we now have nominated authorized luminary, Justice Hasnain Masoodi, from south Kashmir. Q. Who do you suppose will kind the following authorities in New Delhi? I can’t say. Put up-Pulwama and Bala­kot, the best way the discourse chan­ged, it has turn into even more durable. Unf­or­tunately, we do not appear to be taught our classes. As an alternative of the Opposition setting the agenda and forcing PM Modi to reply, more and more it’s the reverse that’s occurring. We have now 5 years of failures of this authorities. Even on Pulwama-Balakot, we aren’t holding Modi to account. Balakot grew to become a compulsion as a result of Pul­wama occurred. However why did Pulwama occur, we do not ask that. ALSOI READ | Congress playing dirty politics over Pulwama attack, says Rajnath Singh Get real-time alerts and all of the news in your telephone with the all-new India Right this moment app. Obtain from Source link