UFO’s Or How do you write about this ships so well?

Today I was asked a question, about UFO’s. Basicly the question wanted to know, if I have no technical science training (not even on a high school level… **I didn’t go to school**), how than is it that I can write about UFO’s/space ships in such vivid detail. The question was followed by the laughing off-handed joke:

What did you see a real UFO or something?

hhmmmm…

actually, yes, and the ship in my books The VISION-D8 and it’s captain, are both very real, I have seen them both. I came to write stories about that ship by a rather tramatic way.

Yes, I have seen a UFO.

Yes, I have seen an alien.

Today, saying this is not so taboo anymore. People are not so quick to judge. Most people today want details. From me they shall not get them. You see, my “sighting” was not in the past few years, but rather it was nearly 30 years ago, when any mention of such things was scandelous, taboo, and downright Satanic.

I was eight years old at the time of the “sighting”. I use the word “sighting” losely, as a sighting indicates a meer glimse at something you could not identify. I also steer clear of the term UFO in this incident. There was no meer glimse. What I saw was unmistakably a spacecraft from another world or realm or dimension (I don’t know where it came from).

In my mind, what I saw was not “unusual” or fearful, that is, I did not find it to be odd, because I was still too young to know that this should have been thought of as odd. I ran to my neighbor friends and to my cousins and told them what I had seen, they came running and they saw it too. We were all very excited about what had just happened and each of us ran back home to our parents and dragged them back into the woods to show them our space ship and the alien.

When we returned with our parants the ship and the alien were gone, and our parents became very angry and accussed us of playing a very bad prank. For the first few hours we pleaded with our parents and told them that everything was true it was not a prank.

The next day my best friend told me that she had had her mouth washed out with soap and that her father was right it had never happened, she only thought I was playing a game, she now told me. My cousin, likewise, complaining of a spanking that made it painful to sit down had convinced him that his mother was right, it had never happened.

And so began my obssession to find someone, anyone, who would believe me. I drew pictures of the ship and the alien. Paintings, dozens of them in watercolor, acrylics and ink began to line my walls. I made sculptures and cloth dolls of the alien. I drew up detailed maps of the area and the ship. I was eight years old and my life was suddenly consummed with one thing and one thing only… drawing the ship and alien in the most acurate detail possible, so that some body somewhere would see my art and recognize this ship as real.

No one believed me. People started saying stuff like “What a lonly child.” “Such an over active imagination.” Adults started treating me like I was crazy and there was talk of mental hospitals.

By the time I was 14 I had lost all my friends and was unable to make new ones. No one would talk to me, most would not even look at me, some wouldn’t even be in the same room with me. It was like I had the plauge. The adults at church were the worst. They talked of such things as “demon possesion” and “exorsism”. Adults began asking “When well she ever grow up? Why does she still believe in these childish things?”

When I was 16, the bishop tried to have me commited into an insane ayslum. Around this same time most all of my drawings and artwork was gathered up and burned. That was the last straw. I realized at last that no one was ever going to believe me. I bought a safe and locked what remained of my drawings and other such items away from the world, vowing to never again, tell anyone the details of what it was I saw or what it was that had happened on that day, so many years ago.

As the adults wanted I grew up. I grew up by realizing that adults are mean people whom I no longer liked. I grew up because I now knew that no one cared about the truth, they only cared about what made them “look good to others”. I grew up because I realized that my seeing something that they hadn’t seen, made them look bad for knowing me. I grew up because I learned to remain silent and withhold the truth from others. Suddenly I understood that when they were asking me to grow up, they ment they wanted me to act like them: to be prim and proper and and turn a blind eye to anything that would make them look bad in front of their peers.

Many, many years have passed since my “sighting”, I no longer tell people what I saw. I no longer ty to find people who well believe me, because it is no longer important to me that I do so. What happened, happened, I know it happened because I was there and I saw it with my own eyes. Why it happened I do not know. How everything dissapeared so quickly before we arrived back with our parents, I can not explain. It is a mystery which I would love to solve.

Why did no one believe us? Looking back today, I think the adults were terrified. Terrified that if what we three children had told them was true, that it would mean we were not alone in this universe, and that there was a race of people capible of technology to build ships that traveled to our home. They were terrified of what that could mean. I believe that the adults were just plain terrified of the possability that what we said was true, and that they could not handle such a thought, and found it easier to ridicule and belittle children instead…. I mean, they actually did leave their homes in a panic and followed us into the woods. They only became angry after they got there are saw nothing. Why would they have let us drag them out into the woods if they had not suspected we really had found a spacecraft?

In the end, what I saw that day had a huge impact on my life, some good and some bad.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

UFO’s Or How do you write about this ships so well?

Today I was asked a question, about UFO’s. Basicly the question wanted to know, if I have no technical science training (not even on a high school level… **I didn’t go to school**), how than is it that I can write about UFO’s/space ships in such vivid detail. The question was followed by the laughing off-handed joke:

What did you see a real UFO or something?

hhmmmm…

actually, yes, and the ship in my books The VISION-D8 and it’s captain, are both very real, I have seen them both. I came to write stories about that ship by a rather tramatic way.

Yes, I have seen a UFO.

Yes, I have seen an alien.

Today, saying this is not so taboo anymore. People are not so quick to judge. Most people today want details. From me they shall not get them. You see, my “sighting” was not in the past few years, but rather it was nearly 30 years ago, when any mention of such things was scandelous, taboo, and downright Satanic.

I was eight years old at the time of the “sighting”. I use the word “sighting” losely, as a sighting indicates a meer glimse at something you could not identify. I also steer clear of the term UFO in this incident. There was no meer glimse. What I saw was unmistakably a spacecraft from another world or realm or dimension (I don’t know where it came from).

In my mind, what I saw was not “unusual” or fearful, that is, I did not find it to be odd, because I was still too young to know that this should have been thought of as odd. I ran to my neighbor friends and to my cousins and told them what I had seen, they came running and they saw it too. We were all very excited about what had just happened and each of us ran back home to our parents and dragged them back into the woods to show them our space ship and the alien.

When we returned with our parants the ship and the alien were gone, and our parents became very angry and accussed us of playing a very bad prank. For the first few hours we pleaded with our parents and told them that everything was true it was not a prank.

The next day my best friend told me that she had had her mouth washed out with soap and that her father was right it had never happened, she only thought I was playing a game, she now told me. My cousin, likewise, complaining of a spanking that made it painful to sit down had convinced him that his mother was right, it had never happened.

And so began my obssession to find someone, anyone, who would believe me. I drew pictures of the ship and the alien. Paintings, dozens of them in watercolor, acrylics and ink began to line my walls. I made sculptures and cloth dolls of the alien. I drew up detailed maps of the area and the ship. I was eight years old and my life was suddenly consummed with one thing and one thing only… drawing the ship and alien in the most acurate detail possible, so that some body somewhere would see my art and recognize this ship as real.

No one believed me. People started saying stuff like “What a lonly child.” “Such an over active imagination.” Adults started treating me like I was crazy and there was talk of mental hospitals.

By the time I was 14 I had lost all my friends and was unable to make new ones. No one would talk to me, most would not even look at me, some wouldn’t even be in the same room with me. It was like I had the plauge. The adults at church were the worst. They talked of such things as “demon possesion” and “exorsism”. Adults began asking “When well she ever grow up? Why does she still believe in these childish things?”

When I was 16, the bishop tried to have me commited into an insane ayslum. Around this same time most all of my drawings and artwork was gathered up and burned. That was the last straw. I realized at last that no one was ever going to believe me. I bought a safe and locked what remained of my drawings and other such items away from the world, vowing to never again, tell anyone the details of what it was I saw or what it was that had happened on that day, so many years ago.

As the adults wanted I grew up. I grew up by realizing that adults are mean people whom I no longer liked. I grew up because I now knew that no one cared about the truth, they only cared about what made them “look good to others”. I grew up because I realized that my seeing something that they hadn’t seen, made them look bad for knowing me. I grew up because I learned to remain silent and withhold the truth from others. Suddenly I understood that when they were asking me to grow up, they ment they wanted me to act like them: to be prim and proper and and turn a blind eye to anything that would make them look bad in front of their peers.

Many, many years have passed since my “sighting”, I no longer tell people what I saw. I no longer ty to find people who well believe me, because it is no longer important to me that I do so. What happened, happened, I know it happened because I was there and I saw it with my own eyes. Why it happened I do not know. How everything dissapeared so quickly before we arrived back with our parents, I can not explain. It is a mystery which I would love to solve.

Why did no one believe us? Looking back today, I think the adults were terrified. Terrified that if what we three children had told them was true, that it would mean we were not alone in this universe, and that there was a race of people capible of technology to build ships that traveled to our home. They were terrified of what that could mean. I believe that the adults were just plain terrified of the possability that what we said was true, and that they could not handle such a thought, and found it easier to ridicule and belittle children instead…. I mean, they actually did leave their homes in a panic and followed us into the woods. They only became angry after they got there are saw nothing. Why would they have let us drag them out into the woods if they had not suspected we really had found a spacecraft?

In the end, what I saw that day had a huge impact on my life, some good and some bad.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

UFO’s Or How do you write about this ships so well?

Today I was asked a question, about UFO’s. Basicly the question wanted to know, if I have no technical science training (not even on a high school level… **I didn’t go to school**), how than is it that I can write about UFO’s/space ships in such vivid detail. The question was followed by the laughing off-handed joke:

What did you see a real UFO or something?

hhmmmm…

actually, yes, and the ship in my books The VISION-D8 and it’s captain, are both very real, I have seen them both. I came to write stories about that ship by a rather tramatic way.

Yes, I have seen a UFO.

Yes, I have seen an alien.

Today, saying this is not so taboo anymore. People are not so quick to judge. Most people today want details. From me they shall not get them. You see, my “sighting” was not in the past few years, but rather it was nearly 30 years ago, when any mention of such things was scandelous, taboo, and downright Satanic.

I was eight years old at the time of the “sighting”. I use the word “sighting” losely, as a sighting indicates a meer glimse at something you could not identify. I also steer clear of the term UFO in this incident. There was no meer glimse. What I saw was unmistakably a spacecraft from another world or realm or dimension (I don’t know where it came from).

In my mind, what I saw was not “unusual” or fearful, that is, I did not find it to be odd, because I was still too young to know that this should have been thought of as odd. I ran to my neighbor friends and to my cousins and told them what I had seen, they came running and they saw it too. We were all very excited about what had just happened and each of us ran back home to our parents and dragged them back into the woods to show them our space ship and the alien.

When we returned with our parants the ship and the alien were gone, and our parents became very angry and accussed us of playing a very bad prank. For the first few hours we pleaded with our parents and told them that everything was true it was not a prank.

The next day my best friend told me that she had had her mouth washed out with soap and that her father was right it had never happened, she only thought I was playing a game, she now told me. My cousin, likewise, complaining of a spanking that made it painful to sit down had convinced him that his mother was right, it had never happened.

And so began my obssession to find someone, anyone, who would believe me. I drew pictures of the ship and the alien. Paintings, dozens of them in watercolor, acrylics and ink began to line my walls. I made sculptures and cloth dolls of the alien. I drew up detailed maps of the area and the ship. I was eight years old and my life was suddenly consummed with one thing and one thing only… drawing the ship and alien in the most acurate detail possible, so that some body somewhere would see my art and recognize this ship as real.

No one believed me. People started saying stuff like “What a lonly child.” “Such an over active imagination.” Adults started treating me like I was crazy and there was talk of mental hospitals.

By the time I was 14 I had lost all my friends and was unable to make new ones. No one would talk to me, most would not even look at me, some wouldn’t even be in the same room with me. It was like I had the plauge. The adults at church were the worst. They talked of such things as “demon possesion” and “exorsism”. Adults began asking “When well she ever grow up? Why does she still believe in these childish things?”

When I was 16, the bishop tried to have me commited into an insane ayslum. Around this same time most all of my drawings and artwork was gathered up and burned. That was the last straw. I realized at last that no one was ever going to believe me. I bought a safe and locked what remained of my drawings and other such items away from the world, vowing to never again, tell anyone the details of what it was I saw or what it was that had happened on that day, so many years ago.

As the adults wanted I grew up. I grew up by realizing that adults are mean people whom I no longer liked. I grew up because I now knew that no one cared about the truth, they only cared about what made them “look good to others”. I grew up because I realized that my seeing something that they hadn’t seen, made them look bad for knowing me. I grew up because I learned to remain silent and withhold the truth from others. Suddenly I understood that when they were asking me to grow up, they ment they wanted me to act like them: to be prim and proper and and turn a blind eye to anything that would make them look bad in front of their peers.

Many, many years have passed since my “sighting”, I no longer tell people what I saw. I no longer ty to find people who well believe me, because it is no longer important to me that I do so. What happened, happened, I know it happened because I was there and I saw it with my own eyes. Why it happened I do not know. How everything dissapeared so quickly before we arrived back with our parents, I can not explain. It is a mystery which I would love to solve.

Why did no one believe us? Looking back today, I think the adults were terrified. Terrified that if what we three children had told them was true, that it would mean we were not alone in this universe, and that there was a race of people capible of technology to build ships that traveled to our home. They were terrified of what that could mean. I believe that the adults were just plain terrified of the possability that what we said was true, and that they could not handle such a thought, and found it easier to ridicule and belittle children instead…. I mean, they actually did leave their homes in a panic and followed us into the woods. They only became angry after they got there are saw nothing. Why would they have let us drag them out into the woods if they had not suspected we really had found a spacecraft?

In the end, what I saw that day had a huge impact on my life, some good and some bad.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

UFO’s Or How do you write about this ships so well?

Today I was asked a question, about UFO’s. Basicly the question wanted to know, if I have no technical science training (not even on a high school level… **I didn’t go to school**), how than is it that I can write about UFO’s/space ships in such vivid detail. The question was followed by the laughing off-handed joke:

What did you see a real UFO or something?

hhmmmm…

actually, yes, and the ship in my books The VISION-D8 and it’s captain, are both very real, I have seen them both. I came to write stories about that ship by a rather tramatic way.

Yes, I have seen a UFO.

Yes, I have seen an alien.

Today, saying this is not so taboo anymore. People are not so quick to judge. Most people today want details. From me they shall not get them. You see, my “sighting” was not in the past few years, but rather it was nearly 30 years ago, when any mention of such things was scandelous, taboo, and downright Satanic.

I was eight years old at the time of the “sighting”. I use the word “sighting” losely, as a sighting indicates a meer glimse at something you could not identify. I also steer clear of the term UFO in this incident. There was no meer glimse. What I saw was unmistakably a spacecraft from another world or realm or dimension (I don’t know where it came from).

In my mind, what I saw was not “unusual” or fearful, that is, I did not find it to be odd, because I was still too young to know that this should have been thought of as odd. I ran to my neighbor friends and to my cousins and told them what I had seen, they came running and they saw it too. We were all very excited about what had just happened and each of us ran back home to our parents and dragged them back into the woods to show them our space ship and the alien.

When we returned with our parants the ship and the alien were gone, and our parents became very angry and accussed us of playing a very bad prank. For the first few hours we pleaded with our parents and told them that everything was true it was not a prank.

The next day my best friend told me that she had had her mouth washed out with soap and that her father was right it had never happened, she only thought I was playing a game, she now told me. My cousin, likewise, complaining of a spanking that made it painful to sit down had convinced him that his mother was right, it had never happened.

And so began my obssession to find someone, anyone, who would believe me. I drew pictures of the ship and the alien. Paintings, dozens of them in watercolor, acrylics and ink began to line my walls. I made sculptures and cloth dolls of the alien. I drew up detailed maps of the area and the ship. I was eight years old and my life was suddenly consummed with one thing and one thing only… drawing the ship and alien in the most acurate detail possible, so that some body somewhere would see my art and recognize this ship as real.

No one believed me. People started saying stuff like “What a lonly child.” “Such an over active imagination.” Adults started treating me like I was crazy and there was talk of mental hospitals.

By the time I was 14 I had lost all my friends and was unable to make new ones. No one would talk to me, most would not even look at me, some wouldn’t even be in the same room with me. It was like I had the plauge. The adults at church were the worst. They talked of such things as “demon possesion” and “exorsism”. Adults began asking “When well she ever grow up? Why does she still believe in these childish things?”

When I was 16, the bishop tried to have me commited into an insane ayslum. Around this same time most all of my drawings and artwork was gathered up and burned. That was the last straw. I realized at last that no one was ever going to believe me. I bought a safe and locked what remained of my drawings and other such items away from the world, vowing to never again, tell anyone the details of what it was I saw or what it was that had happened on that day, so many years ago.

As the adults wanted I grew up. I grew up by realizing that adults are mean people whom I no longer liked. I grew up because I now knew that no one cared about the truth, they only cared about what made them “look good to others”. I grew up because I realized that my seeing something that they hadn’t seen, made them look bad for knowing me. I grew up because I learned to remain silent and withhold the truth from others. Suddenly I understood that when they were asking me to grow up, they ment they wanted me to act like them: to be prim and proper and and turn a blind eye to anything that would make them look bad in front of their peers.

Many, many years have passed since my “sighting”, I no longer tell people what I saw. I no longer ty to find people who well believe me, because it is no longer important to me that I do so. What happened, happened, I know it happened because I was there and I saw it with my own eyes. Why it happened I do not know. How everything dissapeared so quickly before we arrived back with our parents, I can not explain. It is a mystery which I would love to solve.

Why did no one believe us? Looking back today, I think the adults were terrified. Terrified that if what we three children had told them was true, that it would mean we were not alone in this universe, and that there was a race of people capible of technology to build ships that traveled to our home. They were terrified of what that could mean. I believe that the adults were just plain terrified of the possability that what we said was true, and that they could not handle such a thought, and found it easier to ridicule and belittle children instead…. I mean, they actually did leave their homes in a panic and followed us into the woods. They only became angry after they got there are saw nothing. Why would they have let us drag them out into the woods if they had not suspected we really had found a spacecraft?

In the end, what I saw that day had a huge impact on my life, some good and some bad.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

UFO’s Or How do you write about this ships so well?

Today I was asked a question, about UFO’s. Basicly the question wanted to know, if I have no technical science training (not even on a high school level… **I didn’t go to school**), how than is it that I can write about UFO’s/space ships in such vivid detail. The question was followed by the laughing off-handed joke:

What did you see a real UFO or something?

hhmmmm…

actually, yes, and the ship in my books The VISION-D8 and it’s captain, are both very real, I have seen them both. I came to write stories about that ship by a rather tramatic way.

Yes, I have seen a UFO.

Yes, I have seen an alien.

Today, saying this is not so taboo anymore. People are not so quick to judge. Most people today want details. From me they shall not get them. You see, my “sighting” was not in the past few years, but rather it was nearly 30 years ago, when any mention of such things was scandelous, taboo, and downright Satanic.

I was eight years old at the time of the “sighting”. I use the word “sighting” losely, as a sighting indicates a meer glimse at something you could not identify. I also steer clear of the term UFO in this incident. There was no meer glimse. What I saw was unmistakably a spacecraft from another world or realm or dimension (I don’t know where it came from).

In my mind, what I saw was not “unusual” or fearful, that is, I did not find it to be odd, because I was still too young to know that this should have been thought of as odd. I ran to my neighbor friends and to my cousins and told them what I had seen, they came running and they saw it too. We were all very excited about what had just happened and each of us ran back home to our parents and dragged them back into the woods to show them our space ship and the alien.

When we returned with our parants the ship and the alien were gone, and our parents became very angry and accussed us of playing a very bad prank. For the first few hours we pleaded with our parents and told them that everything was true it was not a prank.

The next day my best friend told me that she had had her mouth washed out with soap and that her father was right it had never happened, she only thought I was playing a game, she now told me. My cousin, likewise, complaining of a spanking that made it painful to sit down had convinced him that his mother was right, it had never happened.

And so began my obssession to find someone, anyone, who would believe me. I drew pictures of the ship and the alien. Paintings, dozens of them in watercolor, acrylics and ink began to line my walls. I made sculptures and cloth dolls of the alien. I drew up detailed maps of the area and the ship. I was eight years old and my life was suddenly consummed with one thing and one thing only… drawing the ship and alien in the most acurate detail possible, so that some body somewhere would see my art and recognize this ship as real.

No one believed me. People started saying stuff like “What a lonly child.” “Such an over active imagination.” Adults started treating me like I was crazy and there was talk of mental hospitals.

By the time I was 14 I had lost all my friends and was unable to make new ones. No one would talk to me, most would not even look at me, some wouldn’t even be in the same room with me. It was like I had the plauge. The adults at church were the worst. They talked of such things as “demon possesion” and “exorsism”. Adults began asking “When well she ever grow up? Why does she still believe in these childish things?”

When I was 16, the bishop tried to have me commited into an insane ayslum. Around this same time most all of my drawings and artwork was gathered up and burned. That was the last straw. I realized at last that no one was ever going to believe me. I bought a safe and locked what remained of my drawings and other such items away from the world, vowing to never again, tell anyone the details of what it was I saw or what it was that had happened on that day, so many years ago.

As the adults wanted I grew up. I grew up by realizing that adults are mean people whom I no longer liked. I grew up because I now knew that no one cared about the truth, they only cared about what made them “look good to others”. I grew up because I realized that my seeing something that they hadn’t seen, made them look bad for knowing me. I grew up because I learned to remain silent and withhold the truth from others. Suddenly I understood that when they were asking me to grow up, they ment they wanted me to act like them: to be prim and proper and and turn a blind eye to anything that would make them look bad in front of their peers.

Many, many years have passed since my “sighting”, I no longer tell people what I saw. I no longer ty to find people who well believe me, because it is no longer important to me that I do so. What happened, happened, I know it happened because I was there and I saw it with my own eyes. Why it happened I do not know. How everything dissapeared so quickly before we arrived back with our parents, I can not explain. It is a mystery which I would love to solve.

Why did no one believe us? Looking back today, I think the adults were terrified. Terrified that if what we three children had told them was true, that it would mean we were not alone in this universe, and that there was a race of people capible of technology to build ships that traveled to our home. They were terrified of what that could mean. I believe that the adults were just plain terrified of the possability that what we said was true, and that they could not handle such a thought, and found it easier to ridicule and belittle children instead…. I mean, they actually did leave their homes in a panic and followed us into the woods. They only became angry after they got there are saw nothing. Why would they have let us drag them out into the woods if they had not suspected we really had found a spacecraft?

In the end, what I saw that day had a huge impact on my life, some good and some bad.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

UFO’s Or How do you write about this ships so well?

Today I was asked a question, about UFO’s. Basicly the question wanted to know, if I have no technical science training (not even on a high school level… **I didn’t go to school**), how than is it that I can write about UFO’s/space ships in such vivid detail. The question was followed by the laughing off-handed joke:

What did you see a real UFO or something?

hhmmmm…

actually, yes, and the ship in my books The VISION-D8 and it’s captain, are both very real, I have seen them both. I came to write stories about that ship by a rather tramatic way.

Yes, I have seen a UFO.

Yes, I have seen an alien.

Today, saying this is not so taboo anymore. People are not so quick to judge. Most people today want details. From me they shall not get them. You see, my “sighting” was not in the past few years, but rather it was nearly 30 years ago, when any mention of such things was scandelous, taboo, and downright Satanic.

I was eight years old at the time of the “sighting”. I use the word “sighting” losely, as a sighting indicates a meer glimse at something you could not identify. I also steer clear of the term UFO in this incident. There was no meer glimse. What I saw was unmistakably a spacecraft from another world or realm or dimension (I don’t know where it came from).

In my mind, what I saw was not “unusual” or fearful, that is, I did not find it to be odd, because I was still too young to know that this should have been thought of as odd. I ran to my neighbor friends and to my cousins and told them what I had seen, they came running and they saw it too. We were all very excited about what had just happened and each of us ran back home to our parents and dragged them back into the woods to show them our space ship and the alien.

When we returned with our parants the ship and the alien were gone, and our parents became very angry and accussed us of playing a very bad prank. For the first few hours we pleaded with our parents and told them that everything was true it was not a prank.

The next day my best friend told me that she had had her mouth washed out with soap and that her father was right it had never happened, she only thought I was playing a game, she now told me. My cousin, likewise, complaining of a spanking that made it painful to sit down had convinced him that his mother was right, it had never happened.

And so began my obssession to find someone, anyone, who would believe me. I drew pictures of the ship and the alien. Paintings, dozens of them in watercolor, acrylics and ink began to line my walls. I made sculptures and cloth dolls of the alien. I drew up detailed maps of the area and the ship. I was eight years old and my life was suddenly consummed with one thing and one thing only… drawing the ship and alien in the most acurate detail possible, so that some body somewhere would see my art and recognize this ship as real.

No one believed me. People started saying stuff like “What a lonly child.” “Such an over active imagination.” Adults started treating me like I was crazy and there was talk of mental hospitals.

By the time I was 14 I had lost all my friends and was unable to make new ones. No one would talk to me, most would not even look at me, some wouldn’t even be in the same room with me. It was like I had the plauge. The adults at church were the worst. They talked of such things as “demon possesion” and “exorsism”. Adults began asking “When well she ever grow up? Why does she still believe in these childish things?”

When I was 16, the bishop tried to have me commited into an insane ayslum. Around this same time most all of my drawings and artwork was gathered up and burned. That was the last straw. I realized at last that no one was ever going to believe me. I bought a safe and locked what remained of my drawings and other such items away from the world, vowing to never again, tell anyone the details of what it was I saw or what it was that had happened on that day, so many years ago.

As the adults wanted I grew up. I grew up by realizing that adults are mean people whom I no longer liked. I grew up because I now knew that no one cared about the truth, they only cared about what made them “look good to others”. I grew up because I realized that my seeing something that they hadn’t seen, made them look bad for knowing me. I grew up because I learned to remain silent and withhold the truth from others. Suddenly I understood that when they were asking me to grow up, they ment they wanted me to act like them: to be prim and proper and and turn a blind eye to anything that would make them look bad in front of their peers.

Many, many years have passed since my “sighting”, I no longer tell people what I saw. I no longer ty to find people who well believe me, because it is no longer important to me that I do so. What happened, happened, I know it happened because I was there and I saw it with my own eyes. Why it happened I do not know. How everything dissapeared so quickly before we arrived back with our parents, I can not explain. It is a mystery which I would love to solve.

Why did no one believe us? Looking back today, I think the adults were terrified. Terrified that if what we three children had told them was true, that it would mean we were not alone in this universe, and that there was a race of people capible of technology to build ships that traveled to our home. They were terrified of what that could mean. I believe that the adults were just plain terrified of the possability that what we said was true, and that they could not handle such a thought, and found it easier to ridicule and belittle children instead…. I mean, they actually did leave their homes in a panic and followed us into the woods. They only became angry after they got there are saw nothing. Why would they have let us drag them out into the woods if they had not suspected we really had found a spacecraft?

In the end, what I saw that day had a huge impact on my life, some good and some bad.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

UFO’s Or How do you write about this ships so well?

Today I was asked a question, about UFO’s. Basicly the question wanted to know, if I have no technical science training (not even on a high school level… **I didn’t go to school**), how than is it that I can write about UFO’s/space ships in such vivid detail. The question was followed by the laughing off-handed joke:

What did you see a real UFO or something?

hhmmmm…

actually, yes, and the ship in my books The VISION-D8 and it’s captain, are both very real, I have seen them both. I came to write stories about that ship by a rather tramatic way.

Yes, I have seen a UFO.

Yes, I have seen an alien.

Today, saying this is not so taboo anymore. People are not so quick to judge. Most people today want details. From me they shall not get them. You see, my “sighting” was not in the past few years, but rather it was nearly 30 years ago, when any mention of such things was scandelous, taboo, and downright Satanic.

I was eight years old at the time of the “sighting”. I use the word “sighting” losely, as a sighting indicates a meer glimse at something you could not identify. I also steer clear of the term UFO in this incident. There was no meer glimse. What I saw was unmistakably a spacecraft from another world or realm or dimension (I don’t know where it came from).

In my mind, what I saw was not “unusual” or fearful, that is, I did not find it to be odd, because I was still too young to know that this should have been thought of as odd. I ran to my neighbor friends and to my cousins and told them what I had seen, they came running and they saw it too. We were all very excited about what had just happened and each of us ran back home to our parents and dragged them back into the woods to show them our space ship and the alien.

When we returned with our parants the ship and the alien were gone, and our parents became very angry and accussed us of playing a very bad prank. For the first few hours we pleaded with our parents and told them that everything was true it was not a prank.

The next day my best friend told me that she had had her mouth washed out with soap and that her father was right it had never happened, she only thought I was playing a game, she now told me. My cousin, likewise, complaining of a spanking that made it painful to sit down had convinced him that his mother was right, it had never happened.

And so began my obssession to find someone, anyone, who would believe me. I drew pictures of the ship and the alien. Paintings, dozens of them in watercolor, acrylics and ink began to line my walls. I made sculptures and cloth dolls of the alien. I drew up detailed maps of the area and the ship. I was eight years old and my life was suddenly consummed with one thing and one thing only… drawing the ship and alien in the most acurate detail possible, so that some body somewhere would see my art and recognize this ship as real.

No one believed me. People started saying stuff like “What a lonly child.” “Such an over active imagination.” Adults started treating me like I was crazy and there was talk of mental hospitals.

By the time I was 14 I had lost all my friends and was unable to make new ones. No one would talk to me, most would not even look at me, some wouldn’t even be in the same room with me. It was like I had the plauge. The adults at church were the worst. They talked of such things as “demon possesion” and “exorsism”. Adults began asking “When well she ever grow up? Why does she still believe in these childish things?”

When I was 16, the bishop tried to have me commited into an insane ayslum. Around this same time most all of my drawings and artwork was gathered up and burned. That was the last straw. I realized at last that no one was ever going to believe me. I bought a safe and locked what remained of my drawings and other such items away from the world, vowing to never again, tell anyone the details of what it was I saw or what it was that had happened on that day, so many years ago.

As the adults wanted I grew up. I grew up by realizing that adults are mean people whom I no longer liked. I grew up because I now knew that no one cared about the truth, they only cared about what made them “look good to others”. I grew up because I realized that my seeing something that they hadn’t seen, made them look bad for knowing me. I grew up because I learned to remain silent and withhold the truth from others. Suddenly I understood that when they were asking me to grow up, they ment they wanted me to act like them: to be prim and proper and and turn a blind eye to anything that would make them look bad in front of their peers.

Many, many years have passed since my “sighting”, I no longer tell people what I saw. I no longer ty to find people who well believe me, because it is no longer important to me that I do so. What happened, happened, I know it happened because I was there and I saw it with my own eyes. Why it happened I do not know. How everything dissapeared so quickly before we arrived back with our parents, I can not explain. It is a mystery which I would love to solve.

Why did no one believe us? Looking back today, I think the adults were terrified. Terrified that if what we three children had told them was true, that it would mean we were not alone in this universe, and that there was a race of people capible of technology to build ships that traveled to our home. They were terrified of what that could mean. I believe that the adults were just plain terrified of the possability that what we said was true, and that they could not handle such a thought, and found it easier to ridicule and belittle children instead…. I mean, they actually did leave their homes in a panic and followed us into the woods. They only became angry after they got there are saw nothing. Why would they have let us drag them out into the woods if they had not suspected we really had found a spacecraft?

In the end, what I saw that day had a huge impact on my life, some good and some bad.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

UFO’s Or How do you write about this ships so well?

Today I was asked a question, about UFO’s. Basicly the question wanted to know, if I have no technical science training (not even on a high school level… **I didn’t go to school**), how than is it that I can write about UFO’s/space ships in such vivid detail. The question was followed by the laughing off-handed joke:

What did you see a real UFO or something?

hhmmmm…

actually, yes, and the ship in my books The VISION-D8 and it’s captain, are both very real, I have seen them both. I came to write stories about that ship by a rather tramatic way.

Yes, I have seen a UFO.

Yes, I have seen an alien.

Today, saying this is not so taboo anymore. People are not so quick to judge. Most people today want details. From me they shall not get them. You see, my “sighting” was not in the past few years, but rather it was nearly 30 years ago, when any mention of such things was scandelous, taboo, and downright Satanic.

I was eight years old at the time of the “sighting”. I use the word “sighting” losely, as a sighting indicates a meer glimse at something you could not identify. I also steer clear of the term UFO in this incident. There was no meer glimse. What I saw was unmistakably a spacecraft from another world or realm or dimension (I don’t know where it came from).

In my mind, what I saw was not “unusual” or fearful, that is, I did not find it to be odd, because I was still too young to know that this should have been thought of as odd. I ran to my neighbor friends and to my cousins and told them what I had seen, they came running and they saw it too. We were all very excited about what had just happened and each of us ran back home to our parents and dragged them back into the woods to show them our space ship and the alien.

When we returned with our parants the ship and the alien were gone, and our parents became very angry and accussed us of playing a very bad prank. For the first few hours we pleaded with our parents and told them that everything was true it was not a prank.

The next day my best friend told me that she had had her mouth washed out with soap and that her father was right it had never happened, she only thought I was playing a game, she now told me. My cousin, likewise, complaining of a spanking that made it painful to sit down had convinced him that his mother was right, it had never happened.

And so began my obssession to find someone, anyone, who would believe me. I drew pictures of the ship and the alien. Paintings, dozens of them in watercolor, acrylics and ink began to line my walls. I made sculptures and cloth dolls of the alien. I drew up detailed maps of the area and the ship. I was eight years old and my life was suddenly consummed with one thing and one thing only… drawing the ship and alien in the most acurate detail possible, so that some body somewhere would see my art and recognize this ship as real.

No one believed me. People started saying stuff like “What a lonly child.” “Such an over active imagination.” Adults started treating me like I was crazy and there was talk of mental hospitals.

By the time I was 14 I had lost all my friends and was unable to make new ones. No one would talk to me, most would not even look at me, some wouldn’t even be in the same room with me. It was like I had the plauge. The adults at church were the worst. They talked of such things as “demon possesion” and “exorsism”. Adults began asking “When well she ever grow up? Why does she still believe in these childish things?”

When I was 16, the bishop tried to have me commited into an insane ayslum. Around this same time most all of my drawings and artwork was gathered up and burned. That was the last straw. I realized at last that no one was ever going to believe me. I bought a safe and locked what remained of my drawings and other such items away from the world, vowing to never again, tell anyone the details of what it was I saw or what it was that had happened on that day, so many years ago.

As the adults wanted I grew up. I grew up by realizing that adults are mean people whom I no longer liked. I grew up because I now knew that no one cared about the truth, they only cared about what made them “look good to others”. I grew up because I realized that my seeing something that they hadn’t seen, made them look bad for knowing me. I grew up because I learned to remain silent and withhold the truth from others. Suddenly I understood that when they were asking me to grow up, they ment they wanted me to act like them: to be prim and proper and and turn a blind eye to anything that would make them look bad in front of their peers.

Many, many years have passed since my “sighting”, I no longer tell people what I saw. I no longer ty to find people who well believe me, because it is no longer important to me that I do so. What happened, happened, I know it happened because I was there and I saw it with my own eyes. Why it happened I do not know. How everything dissapeared so quickly before we arrived back with our parents, I can not explain. It is a mystery which I would love to solve.

Why did no one believe us? Looking back today, I think the adults were terrified. Terrified that if what we three children had told them was true, that it would mean we were not alone in this universe, and that there was a race of people capible of technology to build ships that traveled to our home. They were terrified of what that could mean. I believe that the adults were just plain terrified of the possability that what we said was true, and that they could not handle such a thought, and found it easier to ridicule and belittle children instead…. I mean, they actually did leave their homes in a panic and followed us into the woods. They only became angry after they got there are saw nothing. Why would they have let us drag them out into the woods if they had not suspected we really had found a spacecraft?

In the end, what I saw that day had a huge impact on my life, some good and some bad.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

UFO’s Or How do you write about this ships so well?

Today I was asked a question, about UFO’s. Basicly the question wanted to know, if I have no technical science training (not even on a high school level… **I didn’t go to school**), how than is it that I can write about UFO’s/space ships in such vivid detail. The question was followed by the laughing off-handed joke:

What did you see a real UFO or something?

hhmmmm…

actually, yes, and the ship in my books The VISION-D8 and it’s captain, are both very real, I have seen them both. I came to write stories about that ship by a rather tramatic way.

Yes, I have seen a UFO.

Yes, I have seen an alien.

Today, saying this is not so taboo anymore. People are not so quick to judge. Most people today want details. From me they shall not get them. You see, my “sighting” was not in the past few years, but rather it was nearly 30 years ago, when any mention of such things was scandelous, taboo, and downright Satanic.

I was eight years old at the time of the “sighting”. I use the word “sighting” losely, as a sighting indicates a meer glimse at something you could not identify. I also steer clear of the term UFO in this incident. There was no meer glimse. What I saw was unmistakably a spacecraft from another world or realm or dimension (I don’t know where it came from).

In my mind, what I saw was not “unusual” or fearful, that is, I did not find it to be odd, because I was still too young to know that this should have been thought of as odd. I ran to my neighbor friends and to my cousins and told them what I had seen, they came running and they saw it too. We were all very excited about what had just happened and each of us ran back home to our parents and dragged them back into the woods to show them our space ship and the alien.

When we returned with our parants the ship and the alien were gone, and our parents became very angry and accussed us of playing a very bad prank. For the first few hours we pleaded with our parents and told them that everything was true it was not a prank.

The next day my best friend told me that she had had her mouth washed out with soap and that her father was right it had never happened, she only thought I was playing a game, she now told me. My cousin, likewise, complaining of a spanking that made it painful to sit down had convinced him that his mother was right, it had never happened.

And so began my obssession to find someone, anyone, who would believe me. I drew pictures of the ship and the alien. Paintings, dozens of them in watercolor, acrylics and ink began to line my walls. I made sculptures and cloth dolls of the alien. I drew up detailed maps of the area and the ship. I was eight years old and my life was suddenly consummed with one thing and one thing only… drawing the ship and alien in the most acurate detail possible, so that some body somewhere would see my art and recognize this ship as real.

No one believed me. People started saying stuff like “What a lonly child.” “Such an over active imagination.” Adults started treating me like I was crazy and there was talk of mental hospitals.

By the time I was 14 I had lost all my friends and was unable to make new ones. No one would talk to me, most would not even look at me, some wouldn’t even be in the same room with me. It was like I had the plauge. The adults at church were the worst. They talked of such things as “demon possesion” and “exorsism”. Adults began asking “When well she ever grow up? Why does she still believe in these childish things?”

When I was 16, the bishop tried to have me commited into an insane ayslum. Around this same time most all of my drawings and artwork was gathered up and burned. That was the last straw. I realized at last that no one was ever going to believe me. I bought a safe and locked what remained of my drawings and other such items away from the world, vowing to never again, tell anyone the details of what it was I saw or what it was that had happened on that day, so many years ago.

As the adults wanted I grew up. I grew up by realizing that adults are mean people whom I no longer liked. I grew up because I now knew that no one cared about the truth, they only cared about what made them “look good to others”. I grew up because I realized that my seeing something that they hadn’t seen, made them look bad for knowing me. I grew up because I learned to remain silent and withhold the truth from others. Suddenly I understood that when they were asking me to grow up, they ment they wanted me to act like them: to be prim and proper and and turn a blind eye to anything that would make them look bad in front of their peers.

Many, many years have passed since my “sighting”, I no longer tell people what I saw. I no longer ty to find people who well believe me, because it is no longer important to me that I do so. What happened, happened, I know it happened because I was there and I saw it with my own eyes. Why it happened I do not know. How everything dissapeared so quickly before we arrived back with our parents, I can not explain. It is a mystery which I would love to solve.

Why did no one believe us? Looking back today, I think the adults were terrified. Terrified that if what we three children had told them was true, that it would mean we were not alone in this universe, and that there was a race of people capible of technology to build ships that traveled to our home. They were terrified of what that could mean. I believe that the adults were just plain terrified of the possability that what we said was true, and that they could not handle such a thought, and found it easier to ridicule and belittle children instead…. I mean, they actually did leave their homes in a panic and followed us into the woods. They only became angry after they got there are saw nothing. Why would they have let us drag them out into the woods if they had not suspected we really had found a spacecraft?

In the end, what I saw that day had a huge impact on my life, some good and some bad.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

What makes you smile and keeps you happy?

I know this may sound cliche`, but the things that make me smile are: baby chickens, little kittens, and roses (yes, actual roses).

I live on a farm and there is nothing so happy as a flock of baby chicks peeping and chirping as the scratch the ground and dig through the leaves. Nothing bothers them, they are just so happy all the time. It makes me happy every time I see them.

Plus I have 9 cats, and they always make me smile. They love to help me when I am doing my writing (I’m an author) and they sit on my papers and crumple up my papers and chase my pens across the floor, or sleep on my notebooks. They are always purring and bubbleing over with happiness.

And I have a rose garden, so I literaly do lots of smelling roses. LOL!

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

What makes you smile and keeps you happy?

I know this may sound cliche`, but the things that make me smile are: baby chickens, little kittens, and roses (yes, actual roses).

I live on a farm and there is nothing so happy as a flock of baby chicks peeping and chirping as the scratch the ground and dig through the leaves. Nothing bothers them, they are just so happy all the time. It makes me happy every time I see them.

Plus I have 9 cats, and they always make me smile. They love to help me when I am doing my writing (I’m an author) and they sit on my papers and crumple up my papers and chase my pens across the floor, or sleep on my notebooks. They are always purring and bubbleing over with happiness.

And I have a rose garden, so I literaly do lots of smelling roses. LOL!

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

Is it a Book Collection or a Library?

I own 10,000+ books and 7,000+ comic books… the local library only has 12,000 books, so I’ve got more than a library has.

My books vary from rare antquies as old as 1819 to the latest works of fiction. I have non-fiction books from every section of the Dewey Decimal System except for the “Sports” section. I have fiction books from a wide variety of authors from every letter in the alphabet. About half of my books are children’s/young adults books. There is a heavy dose of craft and cookbooks (about 200 of each). More than a dozen sets of encycolpedias of various types.

I get my books at yard sales, used book stores, library book sales, and of course new from bookstores or online. And you’d be surprised how many people throw boxes of 30 or 40 books in the trash!

For my medical section of the Dewy System, I went to the local hospitals and doctors offices and got their old manuals and medical texts free, just for asking, after they bought new ones.

I am not limited to any one type of book, just the fact that it is a book is good enough for me, I love books. I don’t have much room to move around the house anymore, but I sure do have plenty to read!

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

Is it a Book Collection or a Library?

I own 10,000+ books and 7,000+ comic books… the local library only has 12,000 books, so I’ve got more than a library has.

My books vary from rare antquies as old as 1819 to the latest works of fiction. I have non-fiction books from every section of the Dewey Decimal System except for the “Sports” section. I have fiction books from a wide variety of authors from every letter in the alphabet. About half of my books are children’s/young adults books. There is a heavy dose of craft and cookbooks (about 200 of each). More than a dozen sets of encycolpedias of various types.

I get my books at yard sales, used book stores, library book sales, and of course new from bookstores or online. And you’d be surprised how many people throw boxes of 30 or 40 books in the trash!

For my medical section of the Dewy System, I went to the local hospitals and doctors offices and got their old manuals and medical texts free, just for asking, after they bought new ones.

I am not limited to any one type of book, just the fact that it is a book is good enough for me, I love books. I don’t have much room to move around the house anymore, but I sure do have plenty to read!

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

Vincent Price Movie Marathon!

Anyone else watching it? Twenty-four hours, all Vincent Price, all day, all night. Now why can’t they do this everyday? I haven’t seen a Vincent Price Movie Marathon since I was 8 years old! Back than I scared myself out going into the backroom of the Shop at night as a result of “The Mad Magician”. It was the only time I had ever seen this movie, and today I barely remember anything about it, other than the fact that it burned in my memory as the scariest thing I had ever seen, and I couldn’t wait to see it again. (My mom owned a craft-shop back than, and I watched the VP movies marathon in the backroom.) Though he had scared the wits out of me that day, he instantly became my favorite actor, and today still remains my 1 all time fave. While I’ve seen 50 of his movies, there are still about 30 more that I have never seen.

You can imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning to discover that TCM had hosting a Vincent Price Movie Marathon… Vincent Price all day, none stop, no commercials, no interruptions, just Price movie after Price movie, back to back to back! And they kicked it off with…. that’s right, you guessed it: “The Mad Magician”!

The Mad Magician

The Tingler

The Master of The World

The Last Man on Earth

Tower of London

Fall of House of User

Pit and The Pendulum

Tales of Terror

The Mask of The Red Death

The Tomb of Ligeria

The Abominable Dr. Phibes.

Theater of Blood.

Of that list 5 of them I had never seen before. One, “The Master of the World”, could quickly become ranked as one of his best. A mad scientist builds a giant silver star ship, than goes on a rampage blowing up entire counties. That sounds strangely familiar to me. King Vielder and Melaca and their ship The VISION~D8 and their first arrival on planet earth? WOW! And here I thought I created that idea, now I find that Vincent Price did it in one of the movies I’d missed seeing… and that movie being based on a book written over 100 years ago! I’m sorry to say, that in all my reading, I have never read anything by Jules Vern. I must correct that and read The Master of the World, as soon as I have finished Harry Potter 7, which I am reading right now.

So, anyone else out there mesmerized by 24 hours of the greatest actor of all time today?

Currently watching : The Fall of the House of Usher /The Pit and the Pendulum Release date: 15 February, 2005

What makes you smile and keeps you happy?

Interesting thought, but I think that people work better when they are happy, but do you know what it is that makes you happy? What makes you smile and keeps you happy?

I know this may sound cliche`, but the things that make me smile are: baby chickens, little kittens, and roses (yes, actual roses).

I live on a farm and there is nothing so happy as a flock of baby chicks peeping and chirping as the scratch the ground and dig through the leaves. Nothing bothers them, they are just so happy all the time. It makes me happy every time I see them.

Plus I have 9 cats, and they always make me smile. They love to help me when I am doing my writing (I’m an author) and they sit on my papers and crumple up my papers and chase my pens across the floor, or sleep on my notebooks. They are always purring and bubbleing over with happiness.

And I have a rose garden, so I literaly do lots of smelling roses. LOL!

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

All donations to Star Log go either to The Rabbit Hole Fund and/or The Pidgie Fund. The Rabbit Hole Fund is raising money to start a small retail clothen shop, while The Pidgie Fund buys food for pets in Southern Maine.

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What makes you smile and keeps you happy?

Interesting thought, but I think that people work better when they are happy, but do you know what it is that makes you happy? What makes you smile and keeps you happy?

I know this may sound cliche`, but the things that make me smile are: baby chickens, little kittens, and roses (yes, actual roses).

I live on a farm and there is nothing so happy as a flock of baby chicks peeping and chirping as the scratch the ground and dig through the leaves. Nothing bothers them, they are just so happy all the time. It makes me happy every time I see them.

Plus I have 9 cats, and they always make me smile. They love to help me when I am doing my writing (I’m an author) and they sit on my papers and crumple up my papers and chase my pens across the floor, or sleep on my notebooks. They are always purring and bubbleing over with happiness.

And I have a rose garden, so I literaly do lots of smelling roses. LOL!

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

All donations to Star Log go either to The Rabbit Hole Fund and/or The Pidgie Fund. The Rabbit Hole Fund is raising money to start a small retail clothen shop, while The Pidgie Fund buys food for pets in Southern Maine.

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Why would she fall in love with and marry a demon?

Why would the girl who must save the world, decide to join forces with and marry the bad guy-villain?

My FMC is a human and my MMC is a Phooka (a kind of demon-evil faerie-spirit-creature). He’s a villain and he remains a villain even after the book ends. I haven’t figured out yet how to have them actually fall in love.

Instead of the good guy vanqueshed the villain, I’m going for the good guy changes sides and joins the villain… sort of a twisted happily ever after were the bad guy wins. Only in my story the good guy hero is actualy a good girl heroine who falls in love with the bad guy.

My book is a sword & sorcery fantasy, and I’ve got most of the fantasy plotting figured out, but it’s got this romance sub-plot that’s causeing me trouble.

My book starts before they meet. They won’t meet until about chapter 3 or so. I figured out how/why they meet. I’ve figured out the end with them going off together. But I haven’t figured out how they go from meeting each other to being lovers, that part of my plot is still a big black hole. I’m hoping to get ideas by reading the romance forum.

Well, I was wondering, does anyone here have any ideas on how or why my good-girl-heroine would by the end of the story join the “dark side” and live happily evil after with the villain?

Basicly, Why would she fall in love with and marry a demon?

Or to be more specific: Why would she decide to marry this guy:

My MMC’s Profile::

The quizz answers here are for my villain Blackbird who is alo my MC. He’s a character that I have used off and on in my stories since the 1980’s, so he’s well established, he’s also not human.

1.) What is your character’s name?

Born Esmerald Mudsburg, October 24, 1570, he was given the nickname Blackbird, after the form he chose to take on as his trademark shape.

2.) What does he/she look like?

He is Morphic Phooka, whose natural appearance if humanoid. He has exotic and highly attractive Mongolian features. His very long shaggy black hair that appears to have never seen a brush. He has unearthly, black, deeply slanted, almond shaped eyes lacking both whites and pupils, and which glow like blazen white coals when he is angered. His hands are long and thin, but muscular and abnormally strong. He is able to crush human bones with his bare hands. On his finger tips instead of fingernails he has sharp gleaming black eagle talons for ripping human flesh. Blackbird is both trickster and shapeshifter. He is neither human, nor does he have the emotions or mentality of a human. He is irrational and ruthless, known for acting fist and thinking later. His violent temper has lead to countless human deaths, many of whom he ate after killing. He often acts more animal than human and well growl, bare his fangs, and lash his claws when he feels threatened. Due to the fearsome nature of his natural appearance, Blackbird often takes the form of a human to befriend unsuspecting victims. His most often used form of choice however is the Veruex (The Black African Eagle) in a larger than natural size. Other favored forms include Panthers/Black Jaguars, and most black birds. In his natural “unmorphed” form he most resembles the Human called Alice Copper.

Blackbird looks just like this:



3.) Where does he/she live?

Blackbird lived most of his life in remote regions of China, Papua New Guinea, and the Amazon Rainforest. Later in life he was captured by humans and commited to The White Rock Asylum for the Criminally Insane. In this year’s NaNoNovel he lives in the Amazon.

4.) How old is he/she?

this year: 437 years old, nearling the end of his races average 500 year life span

5.) What time period does he/she live in?

From 1570 – current 2007

6.) Does he/she have any relatives?

Living relatives: his father, 3 younger brothers, one younger sister

Dead relatives: mother, 37 wives (most of them human)

Other: has a twin brother rumored to be dead

7.) What is his/her favorite color?

black

8.) What is his/her favorite food?

human flesh

9.) What types of clothes does he/she wear?

Blackbird spent most of his life in China (1600’s), and always dresses in black, wearing loose flowing silks in Asian cut. He sometimes wears elaborate masks and huge feathered headdresses of Mesoamerican style.

10.) Describe his/her pajamas:

wears a loose black silk kimono type robe to bed, but does not sleep on a bed, in humanoid and jaguar form he sleeps on the floor/ground, or in bird form in a tree

11.) What is his/her favorite book?

he is illiterate

12.) What is his/her favorite song/music genre?

likes wild tribal drum beats

13.) How often does your character shower/brush his/her teeth?

rarely

14.) When was the last time he/she went out on a date?

after 37 dead wives, women tend to stear clear of this dark creature

15.) Does he/she have allergies/asthma/some strange disease or susceptibility to disease?

no

16.) Does he/she play an instrument?

no

17.) Does he/she collect items?

the skulls of his victims; antique Chinese weapons; raises poison arrow frogs to make halucinagetic drugs with

18.) Does he/she have any friends?

only two, most people a terrified of him

19.) If you could place your person in a high school, which groups would he/she “click” with?

goths or emos would prob’ly find him cool

20.) What hair styles does your character have?

very long, shaggy, unkept, matted, unbrushed, very wild and savage looking

21.) If your character got lost in a forest, what would he/she do?

turn into a bird and fly over the tops of the trees to find the direction out

22.) If your character got flicked off by someone, what would he/she do?

rip out their throat and eat their heart

23.) If your character was asked out on a date by a random person, what would he/she do?

Women are his weakness, he has had many wives, several of them human, he tends to “woo” women in much the same hypnotic way that other dark races of faerie do. Women are adviced to keep their distance from him, as he tends to mate not date and lays claim to any woman willing to go near him, and well than slaughter and eat any male that gets near her

24.) Does your character have any phobias?

none for most of his life… after being released from the asylum he had many, including doctors and guards (they used toture to keep him sedated)

25.) Does your character have a job/profession?

Blackbird is the prime “deity/god” of the religous cult in several of my books; was a hitman for a ganster for a couple of years in more recent years.

26.) Is your character a morning person, or a late-night person?

Blackbird is very secretive and prefers his privacy, keeping out of the public eye, usually keeping to the shadows and is rarely seen by his victims. He uses stealth and the element of surprise to his advantage. People fear the darkness for fear than Blackbird will be lying in wait for them.

27.) If your character met you, what would he/she say/do?

??? no idea ???

28.) When is your character’s birthday?

October 24, 1570

29.) What habits does your character have?

A dangerous blood thirsty Morphic Phooka from the Realm of Fae, Blackbird spends much of his days in the form of a giant Black African Eagle, though he can take the form of anything or anyone he chooses, making him all the more dangerous as he could be disguised as your best friend and you would not know it until it was too late.

Like most races of Faerie, the Phookan race is far from friendly towards humans. The mildest Phookas resort to pranks and trickery, while the darkest are outright brutal and deadly. Blackbird is feared not only by humans, but by other Phookas as well.

The eldest son of the Phookan warrior: Aardsvorkus Mudsburg, a.k.a. The Mudbug. Blackbird was raised and trained to be a fighter in gladiator style “faerie rings”, where he quickly became the undefeated champion. His trademark was to change from humanoid to bird and back to humanoid form confusing his opponent, than killing them with a quick blow that turned their head front to back, and finally ensured their death by eating their heart and brain.

After The Red-Dragon and The Lansquin, Blackbird is considered the most feared and most dangerous man in the known universe (in my books).

30.) How would a character in your book who does not like this character describe him/her?

most say he is a monster; many would like to see him exicuted

————-
Copper Cockeral
Need To Publish Your NaNoNovel?
So You Think You Know Phookas?

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

Who am I and What am I Writing for NaNoWriMo 2007?

Hello all!

Name: Wendy C. Allen a.k.a. EelKat

About Me: For those who know me, I am of course EelKat and for those of you who do not know me, well, I’m still EelKat. I am a writer of the Gothic, Horror, and Science Fiction genres. I am an artist who loves to draw and paint pictures of cats and dogs and birds and roosters and flamingos and peacocks, and I sell my art online via CafePress and Zazzle. I am 32 years old.

Our lives were turned upsidedown when we lost everything in a flood, than 6 months later after begining to rebuild our lives we lost everything again in a fire. Our family of 7 lived on the streets, homeless for 8 months, living in a shelter built out of tarp an cinderblock. This month marks 8 months since we got back in a house again and off the streets, and we hope to rebuild our lives, literaly from the ground up.

I am owner of The Twighlight Manor Press and Copper Cockeral Cards and Gifts.

On the internet, I am know as EelKat, my alter-ego, the talking black bobcat from Planet Diona (a character from both The Twighlight Manor series & The Planet Ptarmargin series, as well as The Chrystonite Chronicles).

In alphabetical order: I like Alan Rickman, Alice Cooper, American History, birds, candy, Carl Barks, cats, C*C*DeVille, Colombo, comic books, Darkwing Duck, David Bowie, Disney, dogs, Don Rosa, Donald Duck, dvds, eels, Etiole, fashion, gothic, haunted houses, horror, Jack Sparrow, Johnny Depp, Kieth Laumer, movies, NegaDuck, pigeons, Prof. Snape, Retief, roosters, sci-fi, Scrooge McDuck, Sir Roderic, Twighlight Manor, Uncle Scrooge, video games, Vincent Price, Willy Wonka, writing, Zorro.

I am the creator and Administrator of A Writer’s Desk, the forum for writers.

I am an active eBayer and regular poster on the Padded Cell.

I am a huge fan of Don Rosa and his book The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck. Of course that means I’m also a huge fan of Carl Barks and his art work and stories as well.

So what do I do when I’m not writing books or cruiseing online? Living life. You know the drill. But that’s boreing, so what else is there? Well, I love to watch movies and read. My fave actors are Vincent Price & Johnny Depp. Another actor/character combo I like is Alan Rickman as Prof. Snape.

My fave writers (after Don Rosa and Carl Barks) are Kieth Laumer (Retief) and Douglass Adams (Hitchhicker’s Guide To The Galaxy & Dr. Who).

My fave TV shows are Darkwing Duck, X-Files, Star Trek (original), Dr. Who (Tom Baker), Xena, Colombo, and Sherlock Holmes staring Jeremy Brett.

My fave singers are C*C*DeVille, Poison, David Bowie, & Alice Cooper.

I love cats, dogs, roosters, birds, and esp. eels. (Have or have had pets of all of the above.)

I love living near the ocean, I love the smell of the salt air, the sound of the waves, the feel of the sand between my toes… nothing in the world is better than living on the cold icey North Atlantic Ocean!

Oh yeah! and I love html!

About My NaNo History:

This is my third year.

In 2005 I barely started, but can’t even remember why I didn’t finish.

In 2006, my old account got deleted so I had to set up a new one. Last year my horror/sci-fi/romance finished NaNoWriMo with 183,000 words.

This year, I’m going to write an Adventure/Fantasy. Not sure how yet, but I plan to have a romance sub-plot within the main-plot.

My plot in one sentence:

Man goes to South America looking for mythical artifact to prove it is real, but instead finds a lost/undiscovered city, where time has stood still and the inhabitants still live as the Aztec/Incas/Mayas of centuries past, and are ruled by a human-eating creature with very real “god-like” powers.

More Detailed recap of my story: :

I’m going for ancient-pre-Columbus South America for mine. Deep lush green jungles, exotic birds, pyramids in the middle of no where, a culture where people believe in bird-gods and blood sacrifices, and nature/rain gods, and all that type of stuff….

My “hero” lives in today’s time, somehow comes across an anceint artifact that sends him to South America to find a “lost treasure”. Once he gets to South America though, he gets lost and ends up in an “ancient city”, that has been cut off from the rest of the world for thousands of years, they are unaware of the outside world and the outside world is unaware of them. This lost city is so isolated that it is as if time has stood still for them, and for my MC it is like he has stepped back in time into ancient Mesoamerica.

Unlike real life however, my tribe has real “gods” that do punish them if they disobey. Actually the “gods” are really shapeshiftering Phookas that turn into fearsom things to frighten the villagers. And it’s kind-of going to be Conan the Barbarian type sword and sorcery, only my tribe has swords made of wood embedded with obsidian, (as they did in real history) because metal wasn’t invented yet; and my wizards are going to take the form of a tribal shaman boardering on Voodoo mambas/hougans.

Have you picked up a dare for your NaNo Novel yet?

I have and here it is:

DARE:

Have chickens wandering around the pages of your book.

BP= if you have a differant breed of chicken in each chapter

DP= if the chickens talk just like humans do

My MC’s Profile::

The answers here are for my villain Blackbird who is alo my MC. He’s a character that I have used off and on in my stories since the 1980’s, so he’s well established, he’s also not human.

1.) What is your character’s name?

Born Esmerald Mudsburg, October 24, 1570, he was given the nickname Blackbird, after the form he chose to take on as his trademark shape.

2.) What does he/she look like?

He is Morphic Phooka, whose natural appearance if humanoid. He has exotic and highly attractive Mongolian features. His very long shaggy black hair that appears to have never seen a brush. He has unearthly, black, deeply slanted, almond shaped eyes lacking both whites and pupils, and which glow like blazen white coals when he is angered. His hands are long and thin, but muscular and abnormally strong. He is able to crush human bones with his bare hands. On his finger tips instead of fingernails he has sharp gleaming black eagle talons for ripping human flesh. Blackbird is both trickster and shapeshifter. He is neither human, nor does he have the emotions or mentality of a human. He is irrational and ruthless, known for acting fist and thinking later. His violent temper has lead to countless human deaths, many of whom he ate after killing. He often acts more animal than human and well growl, bare his fangs, and lash his claws when he feels threatened. Due to the fearsome nature of his natural appearance, Blackbird often takes the form of a human to befriend unsuspecting victims. His most often used form of choice however is the Veruex (The Black African Eagle) in a larger than natural size. Other favored forms include Panthers/Black Jaguars, and most black birds. In his natural “unmorphed” form he most resembles the Human called Alice Copper.

Blackbird looks just like this:



3.) Where does he/she live?

Blackbird lived most of his life in remote regions of China, Papua New Guinea, and the Amazon Rainforest. Later in life he was captured by humans and commited to The White Rock Asylum for the Criminally Insane. In this year’s NaNoNovel he lives in the Amazon.

4.) How old is he/she?

this year: 437 years old, nearling the end of his races average 500 year life span

5.) What time period does he/she live in?

From 1570 – current 2007

6.) Does he/she have any relatives?

Living relatives: his father, 3 younger brothers, one younger sister

Dead relatives: mother, 37 wives (most of them human)

Other: has a twin brother rumored to be dead

7.) What is his/her favorite color?

black

8.) What is his/her favorite food?

human flesh

9.) What types of clothes does he/she wear?

Blackbird spent most of his life in China (1600’s), and always dresses in black, wearing loose flowing silks in Asian cut. He sometimes wears elaborate masks and huge feathered headdresses of Mesoamerican style.

10.) Describe his/her pajamas:

wears a loose black silk kimono type robe to bed, but does not sleep on a bed, in humanoid and jaguar form he sleeps on the floor/ground, or in bird form in a tree

11.) What is his/her favorite book?

he is illiterate

12.) What is his/her favorite song/music genre?

likes wild tribal drum beats

13.) How often does your character shower/brush his/her teeth?

rarely

14.) When was the last time he/she went out on a date?

after 37 dead wives, women tend to stear clear of this dark creature

15.) Does he/she have allergies/asthma/some strange disease or susceptibility to disease?

no

16.) Does he/she play an instrument?

no

17.) Does he/she collect items?

the skulls of his victims; antique Chinese weapons; raises poison arrow frogs to make halucinagetic drugs with

18.) Does he/she have any friends?

only two, most people a terrified of him

19.) If you could place your person in a high school, which groups would he/she “click” with?

goths or emos would prob’ly find him cool

20.) What hair styles does your character have?

very long, shaggy, unkept, matted, unbrushed, very wild and savage looking

21.) If your character got lost in a forest, what would he/she do?

turn into a bird and fly over the tops of the trees to find the direction out

22.) If your character got flicked off by someone, what would he/she do?

rip out their throat and eat their heart

23.) If your character was asked out on a date by a random person, what would he/she do?

Women are his weakness, he has had many wives, several of them human, he tends to “woo” women in much the same hypnotic way that other dark races of faerie do. Women are adviced to keep their distance from him, as he tends to mate not date and lays claim to any woman willing to go near him, and well than slaughter and eat any male that gets near her

24.) Does your character have any phobias?

none for most of his life… after being released from the asylum he had many, including doctors and guards (they used toture to keep him sedated)

25.) Does your character have a job/profession?

Blackbird is the prime “deity/god” of the religous cult in several of my books; was a hitman for a ganster for a couple of years in more recent years.

26.) Is your character a morning person, or a late-night person?

Blackbird is very secretive and prefers his privacy, keeping out of the public eye, usually keeping to the shadows and is rarely seen by his victims. He uses stealth and the element of surprise to his advantage. People fear the darkness for fear than Blackbird will be lying in wait for them.

27.) If your character met you, what would he/she say/do?

??? no idea ???

28.) When is your character’s birthday?

October 24, 1570

29.) What habits does your character have?

A dangerous blood thirsty Morphic Phooka from the Realm of Fae, Blackbird spends much of his days in the form of a giant Black African Eagle, though he can take the form of anything or anyone he chooses, making him all the more dangerous as he could be disguised as your best friend and you would not know it until it was too late.

Like most races of Faerie, the Phookan race is far from friendly towards humans. The mildest Phookas resort to pranks and trickery, while the darkest are outright brutal and deadly. Blackbird is feared not only by humans, but by other Phookas as well.

The eldest son of the Phookan warrior: Aardsvorkus Mudsburg, a.k.a. The Mudbug. Blackbird was raised and trained to be a fighter in gladiator style “faerie rings”, where he quickly became the undefeated champion. His trademark was to change from humanoid to bird and back to humanoid form confusing his opponent, than killing them with a quick blow that turned their head front to back, and finally ensured their death by eating their heart and brain.

After The Red-Dragon and The Lansquin, Blackbird is considered the most feared and most dangerous man in the known universe (in my books).

30.) How would a character in your book who does not like this character describe him/her?

most say he is a monster; many would like to see him exicuted

Other characters:

There are three characters from modern time/yoday: a retired archaeologist in his 70’s-ish, his college student assistant, and his out-of-high-school-not-yet-in-college granddaughter who is spending the summer with him. These are the three who head to the Amazon and find the lost tribe.

The MC is the “god” villain of the lost tribe. Somehow I’m planning a romance between this god-creature and the proffessor’s granddaughter, but I haven’t got that worked out yet, which is why I am here on the romance forum looking for ideas.

pheew! what a long post! LOL!

————-
Copper Cockeral
Need To Publish Your NaNoNovel?
So You Think You Know Phookas?

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

Who am I and What am I Writing for NaNoWriMo 2007?

Hello all!

Name: Wendy C. Allen a.k.a. EelKat

About Me: For those who know me, I am of course EelKat and for those of you who do not know me, well, I’m still EelKat. I am a writer of the Gothic, Horror, and Science Fiction genres. I am an artist who loves to draw and paint pictures of cats and dogs and birds and roosters and flamingos and peacocks, and I sell my art online via CafePress and Zazzle. I am 32 years old.

Our lives were turned upsidedown when we lost everything in a flood, than 6 months later after begining to rebuild our lives we lost everything again in a fire. Our family of 7 lived on the streets, homeless for 8 months, living in a shelter built out of tarp an cinderblock. This month marks 8 months since we got back in a house again and off the streets, and we hope to rebuild our lives, literaly from the ground up.

I am owner of The Twighlight Manor Press and Copper Cockeral Cards and Gifts.

On the internet, I am know as EelKat, my alter-ego, the talking black bobcat from Planet Diona (a character from both The Twighlight Manor series & The Planet Ptarmargin series, as well as The Chrystonite Chronicles).

In alphabetical order: I like Alan Rickman, Alice Cooper, American History, birds, candy, Carl Barks, cats, C*C*DeVille, Colombo, comic books, Darkwing Duck, David Bowie, Disney, dogs, Don Rosa, Donald Duck, dvds, eels, Etiole, fashion, gothic, haunted houses, horror, Jack Sparrow, Johnny Depp, Kieth Laumer, movies, NegaDuck, pigeons, Prof. Snape, Retief, roosters, sci-fi, Scrooge McDuck, Sir Roderic, Twighlight Manor, Uncle Scrooge, video games, Vincent Price, Willy Wonka, writing, Zorro.

I am the creator and Administrator of A Writer’s Desk, the forum for writers.

I am an active eBayer and regular poster on the Padded Cell.

I am a huge fan of Don Rosa and his book The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck. Of course that means I’m also a huge fan of Carl Barks and his art work and stories as well.

So what do I do when I’m not writing books or cruiseing online? Living life. You know the drill. But that’s boreing, so what else is there? Well, I love to watch movies and read. My fave actors are Vincent Price & Johnny Depp. Another actor/character combo I like is Alan Rickman as Prof. Snape.

My fave writers (after Don Rosa and Carl Barks) are Kieth Laumer (Retief) and Douglass Adams (Hitchhicker’s Guide To The Galaxy & Dr. Who).

My fave TV shows are Darkwing Duck, X-Files, Star Trek (original), Dr. Who (Tom Baker), Xena, Colombo, and Sherlock Holmes staring Jeremy Brett.

My fave singers are C*C*DeVille, Poison, David Bowie, & Alice Cooper.

I love cats, dogs, roosters, birds, and esp. eels. (Have or have had pets of all of the above.)

I love living near the ocean, I love the smell of the salt air, the sound of the waves, the feel of the sand between my toes… nothing in the world is better than living on the cold icey North Atlantic Ocean!

Oh yeah! and I love html!

About My NaNo History:

This is my third year.

In 2005 I barely started, but can’t even remember why I didn’t finish.

In 2006, my old account got deleted so I had to set up a new one. Last year my horror/sci-fi/romance finished NaNoWriMo with 183,000 words.

This year, I’m going to write an Adventure/Fantasy. Not sure how yet, but I plan to have a romance sub-plot within the main-plot.

My plot in one sentence:

Man goes to South America looking for mythical artifact to prove it is real, but instead finds a lost/undiscovered city, where time has stood still and the inhabitants still live as the Aztec/Incas/Mayas of centuries past, and are ruled by a human-eating creature with very real “god-like” powers.

More Detailed recap of my story: :

I’m going for ancient-pre-Columbus South America for mine. Deep lush green jungles, exotic birds, pyramids in the middle of no where, a culture where people believe in bird-gods and blood sacrifices, and nature/rain gods, and all that type of stuff….

My “hero” lives in today’s time, somehow comes across an anceint artifact that sends him to South America to find a “lost treasure”. Once he gets to South America though, he gets lost and ends up in an “ancient city”, that has been cut off from the rest of the world for thousands of years, they are unaware of the outside world and the outside world is unaware of them. This lost city is so isolated that it is as if time has stood still for them, and for my MC it is like he has stepped back in time into ancient Mesoamerica.

Unlike real life however, my tribe has real “gods” that do punish them if they disobey. Actually the “gods” are really shapeshiftering Phookas that turn into fearsom things to frighten the villagers. And it’s kind-of going to be Conan the Barbarian type sword and sorcery, only my tribe has swords made of wood embedded with obsidian, (as they did in real history) because metal wasn’t invented yet; and my wizards are going to take the form of a tribal shaman boardering on Voodoo mambas/hougans.

Have you picked up a dare for your NaNo Novel yet?

I have and here it is:

DARE:

Have chickens wandering around the pages of your book.

BP= if you have a differant breed of chicken in each chapter

DP= if the chickens talk just like humans do

My MC’s Profile::

The answers here are for my villain Blackbird who is alo my MC. He’s a character that I have used off and on in my stories since the 1980’s, so he’s well established, he’s also not human.

1.) What is your character’s name?

Born Esmerald Mudsburg, October 24, 1570, he was given the nickname Blackbird, after the form he chose to take on as his trademark shape.

2.) What does he/she look like?

He is Morphic Phooka, whose natural appearance if humanoid. He has exotic and highly attractive Mongolian features. His very long shaggy black hair that appears to have never seen a brush. He has unearthly, black, deeply slanted, almond shaped eyes lacking both whites and pupils, and which glow like blazen white coals when he is angered. His hands are long and thin, but muscular and abnormally strong. He is able to crush human bones with his bare hands. On his finger tips instead of fingernails he has sharp gleaming black eagle talons for ripping human flesh. Blackbird is both trickster and shapeshifter. He is neither human, nor does he have the emotions or mentality of a human. He is irrational and ruthless, known for acting fist and thinking later. His violent temper has lead to countless human deaths, many of whom he ate after killing. He often acts more animal than human and well growl, bare his fangs, and lash his claws when he feels threatened. Due to the fearsome nature of his natural appearance, Blackbird often takes the form of a human to befriend unsuspecting victims. His most often used form of choice however is the Veruex (The Black African Eagle) in a larger than natural size. Other favored forms include Panthers/Black Jaguars, and most black birds. In his natural “unmorphed” form he most resembles the Human called Alice Copper.

Blackbird looks just like this:



3.) Where does he/she live?

Blackbird lived most of his life in remote regions of China, Papua New Guinea, and the Amazon Rainforest. Later in life he was captured by humans and commited to The White Rock Asylum for the Criminally Insane. In this year’s NaNoNovel he lives in the Amazon.

4.) How old is he/she?

this year: 437 years old, nearling the end of his races average 500 year life span

5.) What time period does he/she live in?

From 1570 – current 2007

6.) Does he/she have any relatives?

Living relatives: his father, 3 younger brothers, one younger sister

Dead relatives: mother, 37 wives (most of them human)

Other: has a twin brother rumored to be dead

7.) What is his/her favorite color?

black

8.) What is his/her favorite food?

human flesh

9.) What types of clothes does he/she wear?

Blackbird spent most of his life in China (1600’s), and always dresses in black, wearing loose flowing silks in Asian cut. He sometimes wears elaborate masks and huge feathered headdresses of Mesoamerican style.

10.) Describe his/her pajamas:

wears a loose black silk kimono type robe to bed, but does not sleep on a bed, in humanoid and jaguar form he sleeps on the floor/ground, or in bird form in a tree

11.) What is his/her favorite book?

he is illiterate

12.) What is his/her favorite song/music genre?

likes wild tribal drum beats

13.) How often does your character shower/brush his/her teeth?

rarely

14.) When was the last time he/she went out on a date?

after 37 dead wives, women tend to stear clear of this dark creature

15.) Does he/she have allergies/asthma/some strange disease or susceptibility to disease?

no

16.) Does he/she play an instrument?

no

17.) Does he/she collect items?

the skulls of his victims; antique Chinese weapons; raises poison arrow frogs to make halucinagetic drugs with

18.) Does he/she have any friends?

only two, most people a terrified of him

19.) If you could place your person in a high school, which groups would he/she “click” with?

goths or emos would prob’ly find him cool

20.) What hair styles does your character have?

very long, shaggy, unkept, matted, unbrushed, very wild and savage looking

21.) If your character got lost in a forest, what would he/she do?

turn into a bird and fly over the tops of the trees to find the direction out

22.) If your character got flicked off by someone, what would he/she do?

rip out their throat and eat their heart

23.) If your character was asked out on a date by a random person, what would he/she do?

Women are his weakness, he has had many wives, several of them human, he tends to “woo” women in much the same hypnotic way that other dark races of faerie do. Women are adviced to keep their distance from him, as he tends to mate not date and lays claim to any woman willing to go near him, and well than slaughter and eat any male that gets near her

24.) Does your character have any phobias?

none for most of his life… after being released from the asylum he had many, including doctors and guards (they used toture to keep him sedated)

25.) Does your character have a job/profession?

Blackbird is the prime “deity/god” of the religous cult in several of my books; was a hitman for a ganster for a couple of years in more recent years.

26.) Is your character a morning person, or a late-night person?

Blackbird is very secretive and prefers his privacy, keeping out of the public eye, usually keeping to the shadows and is rarely seen by his victims. He uses stealth and the element of surprise to his advantage. People fear the darkness for fear than Blackbird will be lying in wait for them.

27.) If your character met you, what would he/she say/do?

??? no idea ???

28.) When is your character’s birthday?

October 24, 1570

29.) What habits does your character have?

A dangerous blood thirsty Morphic Phooka from the Realm of Fae, Blackbird spends much of his days in the form of a giant Black African Eagle, though he can take the form of anything or anyone he chooses, making him all the more dangerous as he could be disguised as your best friend and you would not know it until it was too late.

Like most races of Faerie, the Phookan race is far from friendly towards humans. The mildest Phookas resort to pranks and trickery, while the darkest are outright brutal and deadly. Blackbird is feared not only by humans, but by other Phookas as well.

The eldest son of the Phookan warrior: Aardsvorkus Mudsburg, a.k.a. The Mudbug. Blackbird was raised and trained to be a fighter in gladiator style “faerie rings”, where he quickly became the undefeated champion. His trademark was to change from humanoid to bird and back to humanoid form confusing his opponent, than killing them with a quick blow that turned their head front to back, and finally ensured their death by eating their heart and brain.

After The Red-Dragon and The Lansquin, Blackbird is considered the most feared and most dangerous man in the known universe (in my books).

30.) How would a character in your book who does not like this character describe him/her?

most say he is a monster; many would like to see him exicuted

Other characters:

There are three characters from modern time/yoday: a retired archaeologist in his 70’s-ish, his college student assistant, and his out-of-high-school-not-yet-in-college granddaughter who is spending the summer with him. These are the three who head to the Amazon and find the lost tribe.

The MC is the “god” villain of the lost tribe. Somehow I’m planning a romance between this god-creature and the proffessor’s granddaughter, but I haven’t got that worked out yet, which is why I am here on the romance forum looking for ideas.

pheew! what a long post! LOL!

————-
Copper Cockeral
Need To Publish Your NaNoNovel?
So You Think You Know Phookas?

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

If your book was a movie…

If your book was ever made into a movie who would you pick to play the main charcters?

only three days away and I still don’t know what three of my main characters look lik!

My villain however is the main character, I’m designing the plot totally around him. He’s a character that I’ve been useing in most of my books since 1978. He’s also a character who I completely and unshamedly designed to look like one of my favorite famous people: Alice Cooper.

So, if my book became a movie I wouldn’y want annyone to play Blackbird exept for Alice Cooper.

Blackbird looks just like this:

————-
Copper Cockeral
Need To Publish Your NaNoNovel?
So You Think You Know Phookas?

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

If your book was a movie…

If your book was ever made into a movie who would you pick to play the main charcters?

only three days away and I still don’t know what three of my main characters look lik!

My villain however is the main character, I’m designing the plot totally around him. He’s a character that I’ve been useing in most of my books since 1978. He’s also a character who I completely and unshamedly designed to look like one of my favorite famous people: Alice Cooper.

So, if my book became a movie I wouldn’y want annyone to play Blackbird exept for Alice Cooper.

Blackbird looks just like this:

————-
Copper Cockeral
Need To Publish Your NaNoNovel?
So You Think You Know Phookas?

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

How do you treat your books?

I own 10,000+ books and 7,000+ comic books. It took me 30 years to build this collections. I have more books than our local public library which has 12,000 books. It is not an uncommon question, for people to ask me if they can borrow one of my books. The oldest book in my collection is dated 1819. Books that come to me damaged are repaired. (I own a publishing house which creates very limited edition hand bound collector books, so know how to repair damaged books)

The following answer comes from my private’s library’s website:

FAQ: Why can’t I visit The Twighlight Manor’s Library?

The Twighlight Manor Library collection is a private collection. The books are not loaned out to the public. I am very protective of my books; no one handles them without the strictest of permission. The mishandling, damage, and defacement of books is looked upon as a grave sin. In my experience with the many public libraries in this area, the average person is not capable of taking care of a book, that is not their own. Library books are routinely returned written on, soiled, pages torn, pages missing, pictures cut out, covers removed, and otherwise badly damaged. In view of the fact that most books in public circulation must be replaced or discarded after a few short years, I have chosen not to allow this collection to have public access. It is possible that in the future I may change this, but for now it remains a private library with no public access.

No book ever leaves this collection, once it is here, it is here for life, we never sell, discard, or give away any of the books in our collection. So if you ever run across a book marked as part of The Twighlight Manor Library collection, that book is either lost or stolen, and greatly missed. Many of the books are stamped Twighlight Manor Library, and ALL of them are hand signed by me with both my name and the Twighlight Manor Library “signature”. Any books found marked as such should be returned as soon as possible. Last year my house was broken into and a one of a kind 1800’s stamp collection was stolen. Unfortunatly this book has yet to be found and is believed to be currulating on the black market. If anyone knows anything about the where abouts of this book, please email me.

————-
Copper Cockeral
Need To Publish Your NaNoNovel?
So You Think You Know Phookas?

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

How do you treat your books?

I own 10,000+ books and 7,000+ comic books. It took me 30 years to build this collections. I have more books than our local public library which has 12,000 books. It is not an uncommon question, for people to ask me if they can borrow one of my books. The oldest book in my collection is dated 1819. Books that come to me damaged are repaired. (I own a publishing house which creates very limited edition hand bound collector books, so know how to repair damaged books)

The following answer comes from my private’s library’s website:

FAQ: Why can’t I visit The Twighlight Manor’s Library?

The Twighlight Manor Library collection is a private collection. The books are not loaned out to the public. I am very protective of my books; no one handles them without the strictest of permission. The mishandling, damage, and defacement of books is looked upon as a grave sin. In my experience with the many public libraries in this area, the average person is not capable of taking care of a book, that is not their own. Library books are routinely returned written on, soiled, pages torn, pages missing, pictures cut out, covers removed, and otherwise badly damaged. In view of the fact that most books in public circulation must be replaced or discarded after a few short years, I have chosen not to allow this collection to have public access. It is possible that in the future I may change this, but for now it remains a private library with no public access.

No book ever leaves this collection, once it is here, it is here for life, we never sell, discard, or give away any of the books in our collection. So if you ever run across a book marked as part of The Twighlight Manor Library collection, that book is either lost or stolen, and greatly missed. Many of the books are stamped Twighlight Manor Library, and ALL of them are hand signed by me with both my name and the Twighlight Manor Library “signature”. Any books found marked as such should be returned as soon as possible. Last year my house was broken into and a one of a kind 1800’s stamp collection was stolen. Unfortunatly this book has yet to be found and is believed to be currulating on the black market. If anyone knows anything about the where abouts of this book, please email me.

————-
Copper Cockeral
Need To Publish Your NaNoNovel?
So You Think You Know Phookas?

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

Happy Halloween!

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

Happy Halloween!

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

New Races in Fiction: Yay or Nay?

Books are overloaded with humans, elves, and drawves, so should a writer keep useing them or create their own totally new race?

I like the classic races, but I also get tired of reading the same old same old, so it’s great to get a new face in on the game every now and than. I love finding books that take the challange of creating new races for me to love.

I’d also like to see books that use traditional races that just aren’t used anymore… say Phookas or Sirens for instance? How often do you see them being over used?

————-
Copper Cockeral
Need To Publish Your NaNoNovel?
So You Think You Know Phookas?

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

New Races in Fiction: Yay or Nay?

Books are overloaded with humans, elves, and drawves, so should a writer keep useing them or create their own totally new race?

I like the classic races, but I also get tired of reading the same old same old, so it’s great to get a new face in on the game every now and than. I love finding books that take the challange of creating new races for me to love.

I’d also like to see books that use traditional races that just aren’t used anymore… say Phookas or Sirens for instance? How often do you see them being over used?

————-
Copper Cockeral
Need To Publish Your NaNoNovel?
So You Think You Know Phookas?

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

Main Character is nobody becomes greatest leader, hero, king, ect….cliche`

I don’t mind the whole nobody becomes greatest guy ever plot-line so much, I mean, I don’t hate it, but I don’t really care for it either and rarely do I read such stories. It’s very typical of things that become cult classics though, such as Star Wars and Harry Potter. However, this style story requires a lot of descriptive narrative and usualy is rather light on dialouge, and when I am reading a book, I’d rather hear what characters are saying anf thinking, than listen to the writer spout off about how poor and disavantaged the character is and later in the book how great and superbuslous he has become.

So the character was poor and disadvantaged, be deal, who cares, certainly not me. So he became great and powerful… yeah right, like that’s likely to happen in real life…gag.

I’d rather read about a character who is believable. I’d rather he start out poor and disadvantage and we see is struggles as he strives for a more normal existance. I’d rather see him start out powerful and watch him deal with the disadvantages of being above normal. But most of all I’d rather he be someone from everyday life, who has a plausible goal and watch him strive to reach it.

That said, my fave books are Retief, by Kieth Laumer. The hero James Retief, is you average guy. He lives several centuries ahead of us, he’s a diplomate of earth who explores other planets in search of establishing peaceful relations with them. He runs into all sorts of hostile aliens, gets stranded on strange planets, gets in disagreements with his superiors, totes a ray gun for zapping bad guys, and over all saves the earth from alien invasions. In the beginning of the story he starts out as you average joe. At the end of the story he is still your average joe. He’s just like other diplomates in the story, except his side kick/partner is quick to pick a fight with aliens, so Retief is always having to rescue his partner’s ass, but he does it with quick thinking and a few blasts of a ray gun. He never becomes super mighty or all powerful, and in most cases, the earth’f government rarely gives him any credit for anything he does. The goverment takes credit for the good things that Retief does, and they are quick to poit the finger at him when they mess up and need someone to blame, just like real government does… And he remains the ordinay average joe for 14 books and more than 40 short stories.

In other words: though Retief is science fiction and takes place on other planets, it’s still very realistic and believable and never strives to make the hero out to be more than he humanly could be if he were a real human.

So my advice to other writers: take it from one who read a lot: Keep it real. No matter what race they are human or elf or alien, keep them realistic, keep them average, keep them nothing special. I’d rather read about the average joe with the world changing radical ideals than the simpering dufus who becomes the almighty one.

[quote=icewaterfire]
Which one would you pick a farm boy saving his village or a king gaining important territory?
I would pick the farm boy [even though it is a cliche] because it requires the farm boy to develop into a man willing to take risks.
[/quote]

The thing about that is, that a farm boy can save his village without becoming the king. All too often you see farm boys suddle heralded as demi-gods by the end of the book, and that is just plan silly. It ruins what would otherwise have been a good story. It is possible for the farm boy (the average joe) to to be the hero who saves the day, and than go back to farm life afterwards. In fact it’s more plausible that he would marry, build a new farm, and start a family to live happily ever after with, than it is that he would go off to some palace and be crowned king.

Growing is important yes, but you got to think, how much can one man grew in the 3 or 4 months that pass during the story? Slowly developes into the ruler is one thing, but winning one battle isn’t going to win him loyalty from an entire nation. Look at Joan of Arc, she saved her people and how did they thank her? By burning her at the stake.

Take the Hobbit for instance… Bilbo starts out small and inferior, like the farm boy, and he goes on his merry way and saves the world, than goes back to life as a plain and simple Hobbit. He didn’t get crowned king or any such thing.

Now let’s look at REAL life. Take the Civil War… thousands of farm boys ages 12 -18 took up arms to fight for their country. Some fought for the North, some fought for the South. All meet up against greater odds than would normally be expected of a 12 year old boy. Most of them died. The ones that lived, became next to outcasts when they grew up. No one heraled them. No one crowned them king. No one even remembers their names.

I don’t have a problem with the “farm boy becomes hero” stories, many of them are very good. I just don’t like it when the outcome is just so totaly overblown out of proportion that there is no way it could happen, not even in fantasy. Farm boy grows up is one thing… but most stories are farm boy becomes king, and that’s just illogical.

————-
Copper Cockeral
Need To Publish Your NaNoNovel?

————-
Copper Cockeral
Need To Publish Your NaNoNovel?
So You Think You Know Phookas?

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.

What’s your take on this? I’d love to hear what you have to say about this post. Leave a comment and share your views!

It’s that time of year again. Have you signed up for NaNoWriMo 2007 yet? Sign up today and let the world’s #1 writing contest begin!

Need To Publish Your NaNo Novel? Find Out How!
Got Writer’s BlocK? Kill It Today!
Need A Quiet Place To Write? Find Help Here!
Need Help Creating Characters? Check This Out!
Want to Do a Good Deed? Save the Goldeneagle.