Meet the Characters: Elroy and Donovan Plemmons

Well, as mentioned a couple posts ago (did I ever mention it?), the plan is to better introduce both my novel and my characters on this blog. Since I'll be busy obsessing over this book, anyway, why not share it with you all? I plan to post excerpts and snippets, character introductions, Beautiful People posts, etc - whatever it takes to get this blog up and running again. Besides, I miss writing dearly and it has been nice being reunited with it. ^___^

If you've been reading my blog, you probably remember meeting dear Elroy Plemmons back in November of 2013, when I first decided to make my characters write journal entries. Yes, he is still oh-so-cocky and the daredevil he's always been, but, when I started the sequel to Pro Deo et Patria, he took an unexpected turn: He became more like his brother. Whether that was Donovan leaking out into my writing or the aftermath of all Elroy went through in the first book, I have no idea, but it intrigued me and, upon returning to writing, the first thing I read was an exchange between the twins. It was one scene, their introduction, that pulled me back into writing. And it is that very scene that I will share with you today.

Of all the characters I've written in my lifetime, these two definitely have a special place in my heart. Maybe it's the way Elroy feels like he's older than Donovan, like a few minutes can make a difference. Or maybe it's the way Donovan gets so angry when Elroy messes up. Whatever it is, I love these characters and I hope you will, too.

This is Elroy (top) and Donovan (bottom).

Their skin is supposed to be darker, but . . .

Do you have any idea how hard it is to find boys with fiery red hair?

~ * ~ * ~

The room was getting smaller, walls were closing in, the air was becoming thicker and harder to breathe. Sweat dripped from his forehead and, as even the smallest of noises rang through the night air, he could feel his stomach tighten, his heart begin to pound. The world felt as though it were spinning faster than ever before and he was begging it to stop.
     Daytime wasn't so bad - the light, the people, the voices to distract him from reality. Anyone could slap on a fake smile for a few hours. They all did, he'd noticed. Not that he was any better. They were pretenders, but he was the fakest of them all. He plastered grins onto his face, told lies even he didn't believe, but they played along, for who really wanted to know how he, or anyone, was doing these days?
     Nightfall would always come, though. The frauds would go home, his mother would retire to her room for the night, and he would be alone once again. He'd tried to convince himself that he was okay, but he knew he was a terrible liar. He knew the shadows would bring to light the things he'd tried so hard to keep hidden. He could run from a lot of things, but he was for certain he could not run from the past, from the memories, from himself.
     Even sleep couldn't block it all out. It haunted him, turning dreams into nightmares and nights of peace into insomnia he couldn't escape. There was no cure for this, whatever it was. The only conclusion he could come to was that he was losing his mind and no one would ever know.
     Leaning against the door of his wardrobe, he placed his hands over his ears, attempting to block out any sound, for even the most minuscule of noises reminded him of that terrible night six years ago, the night everything changed. He couldn't breathe now, no matter how many lungfuls of air he attempted to inhale. He wanted to scream, but the silence had trapped him once more. He lowered himself to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut, praying morning would come soon. At least the Donovan Plemmons who pretended to be all right was halfway okay; whoever this was would never be.
     He was almost positive he couldn't take another second of this torment, another moment of restlessness, when, without warning, the window across the room swung open and a figure climbed inside, dropping a bag to the floor. "Donovan?"
     He knew who it was immediately. If the obnoxiously loud whisper didn't give it away, the fiery red hair did, but Donovan didn't respond. This person didn't deserve a response.
     Clenching his teeth, the teenager tried to calm his pounding heart, tried to pull himself together, but there was no use. He'd already been spotted.
     "Donny?"
     Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around his small body and he could feel a head on top of his. His brother had never done this before. It was unlike Elroy Plemmons to comfort anyone, let alone Donovan. But they were twins; one could feel what the other was feeling. At least, that's what their mother had always told them.
     "Ssh. It's okay, Donny. You're okay. We're okay."
     Donovan tried to shove him away - after all, he'd gone six years without comfort, why should he need any now? - but Elroy refused to let go.
     "You left us," Donovan whispered. Tears of anger were flowing from his eyes as he clenched his teeth, still struggling against his brother. "You've been gone for months. What were you thinking, you idiot?"
     "I was trying to help."
     "By doing what? Leaving me all alone with Mama? You have lost your mind if you think she can survive without you here. She's running all of our customers away and spending every waking moment searching for you! She thought you'd been killed!"
     Elroy felt a pang of guilt surge through him, but he ignored it. Donovan was the favorite son. It had always been that way. He never got into trouble, never disobeyed their mother, never messed up, and he would never abandon his family when they needed him most. Elroy, on the other hand, embraced his own mistakes and took pride in the things he did wrong. He didn't want to end up like his brother, stressed and anxious - that wasn't a way to live.
     "Well . . . I wasn't killed." He offered a sheepish grin, but Donovan finally escaped his grasp and smacked him on the head. "I'm sorry, okay? I know it was selfish of me to leave. I was trying to find work elsewhere, earn some extra money to help you and Mama. Hanoria is a poor village, we'll never make it here."
     Donovan rolled his eyes, thankful anger could distract him from this terrible night. "You know better than anyone why we're forced to stay here. We cannot start over anywhere else. We had one chance and this was it. We can't leave Hanoria."
     "Why not?" the elder of the twins snapped. "Because you and Mama are too afraid of what might happen? Because you seriously believe the lies they fed us about the war? It's been six years! Every kingdom left believes there were no survivors and, even if they found out we made it, what could they do to us now, after all this time?"
     Donovan sighed. "Don't you get it? We are the only ones left. Everyone else was executed. If they find out we're still alive, they'll eliminate us immediately."
     The war that had destroyed their home country, Rondonia, had been a short one. They had been fighting against Spirulous, a mighty nation, one filled with powerful people, whose only goal had been to take more land for themselves. It had ended in the destruction of Rondonia and all of its people, except three, who'd escaped to Dalithorne before their lives, too, could be taken. With their tan skin and dark red hair, they could be spotted for miles. They would have been located long before now if it weren't for the fact they'd taken refuge in this place, a kingdom whose ruler was kind, building up a gentle nation, who accepted all with open arms.
     "I don't get what you're so afraid of," Elroy snapped. "We should be proud of who we are. We shouldn't have to hide from it."
     "We don't have much of a choice, Elroy. Hanoria is the safest place for us now. No one would ever think to search here."
     "They're not trying to find us. It's been too long." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I know you and Mama think I'm crazy, but I don't want to be stuck here forever. Why can't you two just take chances every once in a while, let life happen, stand up for who you are?"
     "Because Papa took a chance and he is no longer here." Donovan turned away from his brother, not wanting to see the pain he knew he'd just caused. "I'm sorry, but . . . We can't afford to take chances anymore."
     Elroy knew he and his brother would never see eye to eye on this matter. Because of their father, he would always want to take chances, he'd want to enjoy life and see his family move past what had happened long ago. But, because of the same man, Donovan would always be afraid; he would fear the unknown, keep himself from starting a new life and forgetting what happened in Rondonia.
     They were twins, but Elroy couldn't for the life of him figure out how they'd ended up so different.
     "It's okay to be scared," he said, giving his brother a hard pat on the shoulder, "but it's never okay to live in that fear." He stood up, ruffling Donovan's hair. "I'm leaving the money I made on the table. If you can't sleep, I'll be in the kitchen. It's been a while since I've eaten. Try not to wake Mama, okay? I'll see her in the morning."
     He had only just reached the door when he heard his brother's soft voice behind him, "Hey, Elroy?"
     "Yep?"
     There was a long pause. "I'm glad you're back."
     "Me too, Donny." He reached for the doorknob.
     "Oh, and Elroy?"
     "Yes?"
     "You're still a jerk for leaving us. Don't do it again."
     He smiled in spite of himself. "I don't plan on it."

~ * ~ * ~

So that's Elroy and Donovan! I want to go more into detail about their past and what happens to them in the second book, but it's all too spoiler-y for now, so I suppose you'll have to wait. During the first half of the first draft, the twins were merely background characters, of sorts. They were part of the main cast, but it wasn't until the middle of the book when I began delving into who they truly were and what had happened to make Donovan so afraid. It started with a few paragraphs, then a few more, and then I added a section to the book and I found myself in love with the two of them. Elroy even decided to hog the majority of the sequel I started in November. Apparently he wanted to be the main character (still trying to talk him out of that one).

Although it is rather ironic, Donovan has been the more difficult of the two to write. Of course, he cooperated nicely in the excerpt above, but that's about as far as it went. While Elroy insisted I dive into his story head first, Donovan was harder to reach and still is. Some characters are just like that, I guess - too afraid of the spotlight. Let's just hope he'll come out of that shell sometime soon.

 So, now let's hear your opinion! Are your characters difficult to write, hard to get along with? Do they think the sun rises and sets for them everyday, or do they shy away from attention? Let me know! I love hearing about the adventures of other writers! ^_^

If you liked the twins, keep an eye out for them in upcoming Beautiful People linkups! I figured they deserve a little more attention than they've been getting. ;) Thanks for reading!

Beautiful People: La La La Love {February 2015}

What is this? Another post, and so soon after the last one! This is definitely a rarity. Anyway, I've never participated in Sky and Cait's "Beautiful People" linkup for writers, but I have a couple friends who do! So, I figured, if I wanted to get back to writing, what better way to do this than by participating in such an awesome linkup? Much to my surprise, and dismay, this month's theme was the Valentine's Day edition. I'm not anti-Valentine's Day or anything, but . . . Let's just say my characters aren't doing so hot in the love department right now. They're too into things like independence, or betrayal, or saving their kingdom. They don't have time for romance. >.>

Things weren't always this way. In fact, when I started my current medieval fantasy novel, Pro Deo et Patria, I planned to unite three couples. But, as usual, they had other ideas (apparently Rylan is incapable of loving anyone and Neala's plot is too spoiler-y for love). The novel is about six boys from a poor village, who are bribed by a princess in disguise to head across the kingdoms in search of their missing king. The books tells of their mishaps and adventures on this journey, their rise and fall as they attempt to stop a coming war. It's quite possibly the most exciting thing I've ever written! ^_^ Now, you're about to meet one of the six boys and his dearest friend.

Please welcome Fiona Harren and Driscol Gallaugher.

"Why'd you come here?" Driscol questioned suddenly and Fiona could feel his dark eyes burning a hole right through her. She raised her eyebrows as though he were asking an unreasonable question.
     He shot her the same look. "The truth, Fiona."
     She sighed. "I was worried. Some strange guy showed up with six hundred gold pieces to hand out and you all went without asking any questions." She elbowed him, offering a half smile. "I couldn't let you fall for it without investigating first."
     He could tell she was lying. She was clueless if she thought he couldn't, after all this time. This had less to do with his safety and more to do with Rylan Laury. He was trying hard not to be envious and it wasn't easy. He just hoped his smile was more convincing than it felt.
     She must have noticed his expression, though, for she quickly added, "Besides, Morella was alone and my mother was too busy to watch after her all the time. She needs Gael."
     Driscol looked up, almost as though he were challenging her. "He's not her father."
     "I didn't say he was."
     "Then why did you bring her with you?"
     "I didn't. That was her decision."
     "She's a child."
     Her face scrunched up in utter disgust. "You're a child."
     "Am I?" he questioned, trying not to smirk.
     She snorted. "It's kind of obvious."
     "Obvious like it shows in my speech, or obvious like your lies?"

~ * ~ * ~

1. How long have they been a couple?

Truthfully, they've yet to become one, but we all knew it was coming...

2. How did they first meet?

They met when they were only seven years old. Driscol was a troublemaker, constantly getting into fights at school. Fiona, on the other hand, was a bossy tomboy and the only one brave enough to challenge him. She was determined to give him a piece of her mind, to let him know just what she thought of his violence, but his silence in response to her rant was both annoying and unnerving. She couldn't stand him, but he found himself rather intrigued by her nature and confidence. He followed her around like a shadow for weeks after the incident and she shouted at him to leave her alone on a daily basis until, finally, she invited him to come play at her house (only if he promised to leave her alone afterwards). He agreed, they hung out, and they've been friends ever since.

3. What were their first thoughts of each other? (Love at first sight or "you're freakishly annoying"?)

Hate at first sight comes closest to what they were thinking. Fiona was infuriated that this boy had the nerve to go around getting into needless fights and hurting other kids. She thought him mean and a bully.


Driscol's first thoughts about Fiona were not very pleasant, to say the least. He found her immensely irritating and bossy. However, the longer she talked, the more amused he became, surprised that such a small girl could be so determined.

4. What do they do that most annoys each other?

Even after ten years of friendship, Fiona still cannot stand Driscol's silence. She is the type of person who loves conversation and constant interaction, but she gets none of that with Driscol. She might as well talk to a brick wall - she'd get more of a response that way. She also finds his lack of words a little scary at times, for he refuses to tell her when something is wrong, or even if she has upset him. This silence drives her absolutely crazy and she is not afraid to let him know it.

Perhaps that is what annoys Driscol most. He can tolerate her constant chatter - he has even grown to enjoy it - and her frustrated outbursts, but it annoys him to no end that she feels the need to protect him, even if it means inserting herself into dangerous situations and interfering when she shouldn't. Not only that, but he is secretly underwhelmed by her girl talk. Due to the fact she has few friends outside of him, he has been on the receiving end of several conversations he wishes to forget. She has no brain-to-mouth filter and has come fairly close to driving him insane at times.

5. Are their personalities opposite or similar?

Opposite, most definitely. Their friendship would have never even formed had it not been for the fact they were both children when they met. See above for more details.


6. How would their lives be different without each other?

Oh, wow. Their lives would be drastically different... Driscol would still be fighting, for starters. He would have been more apt to believe what others said about him and, in turn, would have headed down a more self destructive path, so afraid of becoming his father that, given time, he would.


Although her path would have been a less dangerous one, Fiona would have often allowed her frustration to get the better of her and this would damage a lot of relationships in her life. She would definitely have less patience for others and she would certainly be more bitter and angry.

7. Are they ever embarrassed of each other?

Are you kidding? Embarrassment is an everyday occurrence with these two. Most often, it is Fiona who embarrasses Driscol (her personality alone can accomplish this), but there have been rare occasions when Driscol would embarrass Fiona just to watch her blush.

8. Does anyone disapprove of their relationship?

Her father, Ouran. It goes much deeper than the average, "No man will be good enough for my daughter" feeling that most dads express. No, Ouran truly despises Driscol for a deeper reason, one no one knows yet, because of something that happened long ago. Her father's disapproval has yet to put a strain on the relationship, but it might when some secrets come out. >:)


9. Do they see their relationship as long term/leading to marriage?

As it stands no; they are only friends (even if he does make the occasional flirtatious remark). And, although they will be old enough to marry in only one, short year, that is the last thing on their minds. They're kinda busy, you know, rescuing a kingdom from complete destruction.


10. If they could plan the "perfect outing" together, where would they go?

Hmm. That's a tough question . . . I wanted to go with something sappy like "It doesn't matter where they go as long as they're together," but we all know that isn't the case. Perhaps they'd have a picnic near the ocean, enjoying one another's company and maybe even playing in the water. (Hah! It was sappy after all!)

Well, that concludes this post! I hope y'all enjoyed reading about my charries! I have way too much fun writing them! xD Let me know, do your characters ever fall in love, go against your will? Do you enjoy adding romance into what you write, or do you prefer not to? What did you think about Fiona and Driscol? Would you ship them? Why or why not?

Isaiah 40:31

Sometimes in life, there are random, precious moments, moments when you remember you have a blog. This is one of those moments...

So, yeah! Definitely have a blog and totally didn't forget about it. I last typed up a good ol' post back in July of last year, when Driscol took over my blog and decided to complain about his lack of words in my novel (speaking of which, he seems to be finding a personality nowadays - it kind of freaks me out). But lately, I've come to the realization that I allowed my characters to take complete control of my blog, meaning no posts in the perspective of yours truly. I was actually okay with that (I love my characters, contrary to popular belief >.>), but it has dawned on me lately that, if I seriously want to be a writer, I should write, which is something I haven't done in a while now.

I've been writing since I was eight - novels, fanfiction, plays, poems, you name it. It brought me joy, to invent stories and characters and adventures. It excited me that God had given me the ability to create. He had blessed me with a gift and, whether anyone read my stories or not, I was loved writing, and I loved Him. However, it wasn't until November of 2013 when I truly found myself bursting with excitement, ready to put whatever God wanted onto the page in front of me. On the first day of NaNoWriMo, I wrote over five thousand words at one time and I found that I no longer loved writing - I was in love with it. That had never happened before and, as the month went on, I found my excitement growing.

This wasn't at all what I'd expected, for I was working on a fantasy novel of all things and I'd never written one before. But I found a genre I loved and it was then when I realized how much writing meant to me. I continued with that story for months, rewriting some of it, trying to finish the first draft. Even the frustrating moments were beautiful. I could see so much of Jesus, so much of His love, in that story and it kept me writing.

Although it was clear a sequel was in order, I wasn't so sure I was ready to work on yet another year of the same novel, the same characters. I figured trying something new in 2014 would be a nice break from the plot and characters who were constantly on my mind. And so began a spur-of-the-moment YA novel that ended a couple hours after it started. Why, you ask? Because Lorcan, Cahira, and the others were relentless and demanded their story continue. So, that was that - not far into NaNo and I found myself leaping into a new story with no planning whatsoever. It started off rather slow and it took me days to catch up after being far behind, but the story was moving along nicely and the characters were actually cooperating (although Elroy wanted to hog the majority of three chapters).

However, all of that came to a screeching halt when real life stuff happened. I won't go into detail, because this post is long enough, but I'd never been so stressed out in my life. I felt as though everything around me was falling apart and instead of writing becoming a stress-relieving thing, it felt like the stress was a huge wall, keeping me from what I loved most. I attempted to write for several days, but the brick wall remained and I had no idea what was on the other side, much less how to get around it. Days turned into weeks and, before I knew it, weeks had turned into months. Suddenly, I wasn't writing at all. I was constantly on edge and a lifetime of writing seemed like a distant memory.

I wrote a little in that time, but my novels had been terribly neglected and, although I thought about them every once in a while, the brick wall of stress was still there and with it came anger. What had been an incident, one terrible moment, had turned into terrible weeks and months. What had started as stress and sorrow had turned into anger, slowly boiling into fury. Before, I would have dealt with this by writing, by spending more time with my Heavenly Father. But what had began as a brick wall was turning into a brick mountain and I felt no need to write, or pray.

The God aspect of the situation resolved itself fairly quickly. Even when I felt I didn't understand God, I knew He loved me. And even when people drove me crazy, I realized He was always there for me, and He wanted what was best. It was through one of the hardest times in my life that I realized that Jesus truly loved me and He would never leave me. Yeah, everything else looked like it was falling apart, but one thing remained: His love. In all of my anger and frustration, in all the time I had spent feeling sorry for myself, God's love hadn't changed. He still saw me as worthy, as beautiful, His creation. He still does. And, even as the water rises around me, I realize that His love is real and He is real. He is here, so why should I worry? His life becomes more evident each day and, even then, I felt His love surrounding me.

The writing thing went unnoticed, however. I wrote a little here and there, but I didn't find myself missing it. For the first time in my entire life, I didn't want to write. But all of that changed a few days ago.

I have no idea why I checked my email. Maybe it was because I missed the Purple Elephants, or it just crossed my mind, or I wanted to stalk the blogs of my friends, but I logged in that day and it was then when I stumbled across a blog post by my dear friend Deborah O'Carroll (aka Celtic) at The Road of a Writer (check out her blog - she's amazing ^_^). In her post, she mentioned she had been on a three week writing hiatus and that, in that time, she had done a lot of blogging. However, she came to the realization that she was blogging so much because that was "as close to writing as I could get." Needless to say, that really got me thinking.

In the three months that had passed since the November incident, I hadn't found myself missing writing, longing to write no matter what it took. I wondered why this had happened. Could it have been perhaps that I had lost interest, that my time as a writer was over? Could it be that I had pushed it away in an effort to keep everything else away as well? Why didn't I miss it? Or, somewhere behind that brick wall, did I actually long to write again?

As I set out to discover this, I read a few paragraphs of my novel from NaNoWriMo 2013; this led to few more paragraphs, to a couple sections, to several chapters. Suddenly, I found myself smiling, my heart filling with joy as I read of all the perils and adventures my characters had encountered. It was in those moments that I remembered the fun I'd had writing the story, the excitement I'd felt then returning in an instant. It was a spark that started a flame. I found myself eager to return to writing and to finish the adventures of my dear, neglected characters. Deborah, incredible as always, had inspired me to love writing again and to give it another chance, in spite of the brick wall I'd thought was keeping me from it.

Turns out the brick wall was just me.

You see, I think, sometimes, we find ourselves building walls to protect ourselves. The world can be harsh and mean; it can make us want to hide and lock ourselves away behind walls and mountains. It can be a scary place. But I've also found that it can be beautiful. I've found that the tough moments come to help us grow and the journey is so much greater than the destination. I've learned that building walls isn't fun. Yeah, it keeps the ugly things out, but, in turn, keeps beautiful things from coming in - things like writing, friends, and God.

I've learned that it isn't important how others see me, it's important how God sees me. And He sees me as righteous and beautiful and His. Because that's who I am.

I am His.

So, my writing has begun again. I've found that worshiping Jesus is my favorite thing to do. And, on top of everything, I'm learning to just be me, because that's enough. And I like the Jill who worships and writes and dances in the rain. I like the Jill with fire instead of brick walls. Jesus does, too. ^_^

With all of that said, I have returned to write and I already have a couple more blog posts planned! Be expecting some actual excerpts from my novel (meaning you shall meet the characters for real this time >:D) and maybe even a few surprises along the way. ;) Thanks for reading. You're beautiful. <3

"But those who trust in the Lord for help will find their strength renewed.

They will rise on wings like eagles;

They will run and not get weary;

They will walk and not grow weak."

-Isaiah 40:31

Driscol Has Spoken . . . Not Really

 OOC Driscol. You have been warned.

~ * ~ * ~

I've been staring at this page for the last sixteen and a half minutes trying to figure out what on earth I'm supposed to write. Fiction, nonfiction. My thoughts, another person's thoughts. This entire journal has been blank for months now and, although Jill was patient at first, I think she's ready for me to write something.

  I don't know what she expects me to say, though. I mean, everyone else has so much more going on in their heads. Clearly I don't want to say anything, ever, because I simply stand here all day, watching, waiting, listening. No personality. No real emotion. I'm just here. But I won't rant, not right now.

  This is my first entry, so I guess I should introduce myself, maybe. The name's Driscol Gallaugher. I'm seventeen, my only friend is Fiona Harren, apparently I know how to hunt, and I used to run a bar (you know, before I got whisked off into a journey to search for the missing king). I live with my mom, but we don't talk a lot. Well, I don't talk a lot. I never do.

  I'm not sure why Jill gave everyone else personalities and gave me a single word: Silent. Why couldn't I be loyal, like Rylan, or crazy, like Lorcan? Elroy is overconfident, Donovan is scared of his own shadow. Gael doesn't say much, but, when he does, at least he has anger to back it up.

  And me? I'm quiet. Just quiet.

  My author is almost finished writing the book and you know what? I know less about me than you do. I'm still just there. I'm just quiet and still and yet I can't do anything about that. I mean, doesn't she know the meaning of character development? I think the most significant thing I do in the whole book is have a secret crush on Fiona, but she never finds out because I DON'T TALK.

  What is Jill thinking, for crying out loud? Doesn't she see I have things I want to say, things I need to get off my chest? I mean, how would she feel if someone stuck her in a story just to stand there all day, watching everyone else have conversations and adventures and fall in love? She would hate it, just like I do.

  I mean, seriously, I don't even know what I like. Does that tell you anything about how little I speak? The most entertaining thing I even did in the book was have a half-playful, half-serious argument with Fiona that lasted ten seconds before I stopped talking. Again.

  And speaking of Fiona, what makes Jill think I'd like her, of all people? We're complete opposites and best friends. Since when did "best friends" have crushes on each other? Not only that, but she's in love with Rylan Laury! What makes my author think I'd like her, knowing she was happier with someone else? Am I desperate, or just stupid?

  I wouldn't know, because I never talk.

  Also, while we're letting things out here, can someone please explain to me what my backstory is, because I can't quite figure that one out. My mom is in the picture, but not really because she never shows up and I never miss her or think about her. And then my dad is roaming around town somewhere, apparently the most hated man in Hanoria, yet he never shows up either. So why do people hate him, why am I avoiding him if he's a sweet old man who never bothers anyone?

  AND WHY DO PEOPLE HATE ME? I'm his son, not his accomplice. Goodness gracious alive.

  Another thing: I have six hundred gold pieces and I tell Donovan I'd want to use that money to travel. What? NO. This whole journey consists of traveling, I'm doing that for free. What idiot would want to travel more? My feet hurt, there are bugs everywhere, the weather sucks, and, on top of everything, there's nothing really great to see out here -- just trees, trees, snow, and -- oh, look! -- some more trees.

  Also, please don't get me started on the fact that a purple haired elf, who showed up halfway through the novel, gets to become a more important character than me. HE EVEN HAS MORE OF A BACKSTORY THAN I DO. What the heck is that all about? What, because he's an elf, he gets more attention than me? It's probably those golden eyes. Chicks dig the golden eyes.

  Personally, I always thought girls went for the tall, dark, and handsome type. I mean, look at me! I'm dark! I'm handsome-ish! (I wouldn't know that either, because all the princesses either fall for sweet, innocent Donovan or hard-to-get Gael. Or, worst of all, Rylan. Now that one I don't get. At least I'm silent and kind. He's got an attitude and girls like him more than me. He's not nice at all. He doesn't like people in general. At least I love people, but, once again, you wouldn't know that.)

  Well, this has been long enough. Here's to hoping I'll stumble upon a voice box in the next book. Maybe I'll give them all a piece of my mind when I do.

  -D.G.

  P.S. This was totally fictional (you know, just in case Jill decides to read it). Ta-ta, lovelies!

  P.S.S. YES. I said it. Because I say weird things. Bet you didn't see that one coming.

Hallelujah

 These things will change,

Can you see it now?

These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down.

This revolution, the time will come,

For us to finally win.

And we'll sing hallelujah,

We'll sing hallelujah.

~Change, Taylor Swift.

This is for everyone out there going through something, everyone who needs someone right now, anyone who is struggling in any way. This is for those that hurt because of others, this is for those who hurt for others. This post is for those people, whether I know you or not.

The world is a place of mystery. You never know what might happen. People leave, but new people come into your life. Problems come, but they don't last forever. Pain is real, but it looks fictitious when compared to love.

Life, the world, people, everything has a way of balancing itself out. I don't know why, exactly, but I know it does. I don't believe that, for everything good that happens, there's something bad. I think that's an idiotic theory. However, I do believe that, for every bad thing that happens, something better is coming.

Your world might be falling apart right now. You might be barely hanging on. Your heart could be broken, your world shattered. You could be absolutely hopeless. But, no matter what the circumstances, I can assure you: Something better is coming.

Sometimes we don't understand why things don't work out. Sometimes we can't figure out why terrible things happen to innocent people, why we have so many problems while it seems the rest of the world is floating around in a bubble of sunshine and rainbows.

But I can tell you from experience that life won't always be the way it is in this moment, as your heart is breaking, as you watch others hurt, or feel pain of your own. This isn't going to last forever. It never does. So you fell. This isn't a Life Alert commercial, you know. You can get back up. And falling doesn't hold you back, it simply slows you down.

If you stump your toe on the cement, do you curl up into a ball and never move again?

No. You either (a) keep walking, or (b) you hop around while holding your foot as you shout things you probably shouldn't. And, even if you do the second one, you're still moving. A stumped toe isn't going to stop you forever.

Some of you are probably thinking, "Well, my problem is much bigger than a stumped toe. You just don't understand."

But I do. My problems are bigger than stumped toes, too. I have a lot on my mind right now, just like everyone else. But I'm learning more as I type, so I'll keep going. :)

People have major setbacks everyday, things that could easily destroy them, but each and every time they get knocked down, they get back up.

Do musicians become great overnight? Do they pick up their instruments and automatically know how to play?

Do athletes automatically know how to play a sport? Do they never have to work hard to do well in what they do?

No. No one knows where they're going when they first start something. It's scary to take a leap of faith sometimes, even when all the odds are against you and everything in your life is falling apart. Why do we take steps like that, then? Because sometimes, to overcome the odds and everything else against you, you have to work hard and don't stop trying no matter what you might face.

I found this the other day and it really made me think:

"Fall seven times,

Stand up eight."

-Japanese Proverb.

And then, only a few days later, I was listening to someone preach a message and they used this verse:

Proverbs 24:16 (NIV)

"For though the righteous fall seven times,

They rise again..."

So what does that tell you? I mean, I don't even have to explain it, because I know it'll mean something different to each and every person who reads this, while it will speak to us the same way.

How do I know everything will be okay? How do I know that the end of these problems you're facing will be the beginning of the most beautiful thing you could ever imagine? Because I've been there. We all have, whether we'll admit it or not.

I can't think of even one terrible thing that has happened in my life that I learned nothing from. And from learning, I grew; and from growing, life became more beautiful. Problems are here to help us, not hurt us. And I know you're thinking your life will never be the same again. But, you know, that's right. It won't. It will never, ever be the same, because you will change and grow and learn. Life is beautiful.

Your world might be falling apart right now, but sometimes things have to fall apart to come back together. Kind of like a puzzle, huh?

Well, this was my blog post for myself. I learned a lot. I hope someone else got something out of this. You were never meant to fail or bow down to what you're facing. You were meant to stand up again.

So stand, no matter where you are.

It was the night things changed,

Can you see it now?

These walls that they put up to hold us back fell down.

This revolution, throw your hands up,

'Cause we never gave in.

And we sang hallelujah,

We sang hallelujah.

 ~Change, Taylor Swift. 

The Diary of a Fictional Character in Love

Alas, I am afraid NaNoWriMo has ended, but my story has not. So far, you've heard from Lorcan and Elroy. But it's my turn now. We're still writing in our journals, since Jill has not yet completed the novel. In my opinion, giving us journals was a great idea. I mean, seriously, I'm one of two girls surrounded by a group of loud, smelly boys. A journal is long overdo.

You see, none of the guys would want to sit through me talking (except Corlan, but . . . he's kind of an old guy and he went back home some time ago). And, of course, Princess Neala is a girl, but I doubt she wants to hear me whine about feelings and other things that bother me.

So, that's what you're here for. :) I suppose I should first introduce myself and then my predicament.

My name is Fiona Harren. I'm seventeen years old and I am currently traveling with a group of nobodies (and one somebody!) to find and rescue King Ieli, bringing him back to safety. My real home is in Hanoria, Dalithorne. My middle name is Arlene and I hate it (so don't you dare tell anyone). I dream of being rich and able to afford nice things. I'd also like to live somewhere nicer. I stay with my mother, but I spend a lot of time hanging out with my friend, Driscol, who runs a bar in our small town. I have recently fallen in love with the most incredible guy on the planet and . . . Well, that's where the predicament comes in.

It's natural for people to fall in love. It happens all the time, everyday, all around us. Sometimes it's love at first sight and, at other times, a friendship slowly blossoms into something beautiful. In my case, it was the first.

Rylan Laury is his name. He has shaggy, blond hair and eyes so blue the sky can't even compete. It's no wonder it was love at first sight. But, you see, love at first sight won't always work out, for a person has to have at least some sort of personality. And let me tell you, Rylan Laury's personality completes him. He is, indeed, perfect, in every sense of the word.

In fact, just the other day he--

Oops. Hold on. Jill needs me for something. (I think it has something to do with my father, who recently returned. That's a LONG story. I'll whine about it when I come back.)

~ * ~ * ~

"I think I'm gonna throw up," muttered Elroy, scanning the page once more to make sure he hadn't missed anything important. " 'His eyes so blue the sky can't even compete'? I mean, really, what is that?"

"Dude, it's called love," Donovan explained, reading over his brother's shoulder. "Maybe she's just faking, though. I mean, why would she leave something like this out in the open?"

Gael rolled his eyes from where he was leaning up against the trunk of a tree, sharpening a stick with his knife. "Isn't it a little childish to be messing with something that doesn't belong to you?"

Elroy snorted. "Yeah, because you're such a saint." He shook his head and stood up. "Just mind your own business for now. It's not like we're doing anything wrong. She left it here."

Gael never responded, so Donovan turned back to his brother. "Maybe he's right. We shouldn't read her diary. Girls don't like it when guys invade their privacy."

"And how do you know?"

"I got caught reading Neala's journal earlier . . ."

Elroy sighed dramatically. "Fine. I'll just put it back where I found it." And he did, but not without scribbling something of his own on the page first.

~ * ~ * ~

I'm back. SO much happened while I was gone, but I'll have to tell you about that later, because it's getting dark and I don't want to get too off subject before I have to stop writing. Where was I . . .?

. . .

. . . . . . . . .

What.

WHAT?!?!?!?!

Okay. That's it. I won't write anymore tonight. In fact, I might throw you into the forest to be forgotten forever. Thanks a lot, Diary. Now excuse me while I go wallow in my embarrassment.

~ * ~ * ~

Slamming her diary shut and letting out a scream muffled by her hand over her mouth, Fiona Harren truly did wallow in her embarrassment. She made a big scene, pacing back and forth, muttering angrily to herself, wallowing in her embarrassment some more, and then finally deciding to simply collapse on the ground, since there was no one there to see her. Everyone had gone down to the lake when she went to retrieve her diary.

She officially hated her life.

And she hated it even more when, suddenly, she opened her eyes, and realized that, not only was it dark outside, but directly above her stood Rylan Laury himself, concern written all over his beautiful features.

She stood up quickly, brushing the dirt off her clothes and trying to make her hair look presentable (of course it never did). "Rylan . . ." Her voice trailed off and she could feel her face turning all shades of red, so she ducked her head.

"What's wrong?" he questioned casually, like he knew nothing about what had happened, like everything was fine, when it definitely wasn't. "Why were you sleeping on the ground?"

"I wasn't sleeping," she explained quickly. I was trying to forget about how perfect you are.

He nodded slowly. "Oh. Well, we're about to have dinner, if you're hungry."

"Berries again?"

"What else?"

She rolled her eyes and then the two of them fell into awkward silence as the crickets chirped around them. She was still kicking herself for ever writing in that stupid diary. It was the worst decision she'd ever made and she'd never stop regretting it. But Rylan knew everything now and there was nothing more to hide. It was both thrilling and terrifying.

"I'm so sorry about the diary," she blurted, causing him to jump in surprise. "I didn't know you'd see it, otherwise I would have never admitted those things. But I didn't know anyone would read it and I didn't realize you'd--"

"Wait, what?" he asked and she wondered if he was just trying to make her feel better.

"The diary!" She groaned pathetically and ran a hand through her short hair. "I'm sorry, but I really can't take any of it back! I mean, I want to -- trust me, I want to -- but it was all true! Your eyes are more beautiful than the sky and you are perfect! And I know it sounded stupid, but that's just how I feel and I completely understand if you never want to talk to me again!" She took a deep breath, looking right at him and feeling almost free. It was finally out in the open. "I feel the way I feel, Rylan. You don't have to feel the same way, but I do expect you to accept the fact that--"

"What diary?" he questioned, just as she exclaimed, "I'm in love with you!"

Both fell eerily silent, staring at each other with wide eyes. Brody shouted at them from a distance, saying something about eating berries, but neither one responded, or moved, or breathed. They only stared at each other, unsure of what to say or do next.

"U-Um," she stuttered, trying to avoid his gaze as her face started turning red again, "you didn't . . . read my diary?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "No. Why would I do something like that?"

"Then who . . ." She looked up. "But there was a note from someone in there! It said you'd read it all. Your name was signed at the end. It had to be you!"

He shook his head slowly. "Nope."

Now utterly humiliated, she slowly turned around and started back toward the journal she'd left next to her favorite, large, oak tree. "I know who it was," she muttered, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never come out. "Just leave me alone for now. Go eat."

He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he turned and started back up the hill, where the others, oblivious to what had just happened, were waiting for him.

She picked up her diary and quill, sighing again as she cursed herself for ever agreeing to write in that stupid journal.

~ * ~ * ~

Dear Diary,

Elroy is so dead.

Oh, and I hate you.

Love, Fiona. :)

Dear Diary/Journal Thing, Elroy Was Here

Yo. <----- That's the cool word I discovered this morning. No one ever uses it in Dalithorne. According to my author, yo is a word used to attract someone's attention. It can also be used as a greeting. In this case, it was both. Right . . .?

In honor of finishing Pretenders by Lisi Harrison in four days during NaNoWriMo, Jill assigned me and the guys (plus Neala) journals. I know. What you're thinking is probably the exact same thing I'm thinking, Journal. What. A. Stupid. Idea. We don't need journals! We're adventurers! We're men! We can handle ourselves and we don't have to write about our feelings to do so!

But she said if we write in our journals every single day, we'll get free food.

Yes, that's right.

She starves us. Such a slave driver. It's supposedly "for a good cause," but I doubt starving us could ever save some kittens.

Anyway, Donovan (my few-minutes-younger, twin brother) doesn't mind. He still has month-old candy in his pockets, so he won't be going hungry. But he writes, anyway. He was so excited when Jill brought this idea up. He grabbed a quill and started writing immediately. I mean, what is he? A girl? No man should ever have so many feelings welling up inside that he must write them the moment the idea is suggested to him.

No.

We put a fight, we argue, we lose the argument to a girl, and then we write. :)

. . . Phew. Close one. Jill was reading over my shoulder. I had to write that.
 
I'm not speaking to her anymore, not after what happened this morning. We're not on the best terms and I'm making sure she knows that. She deserves more than just the silent treatment after the way she treats her characters.

(P.S. Lorcan's blog was a lie. Characters don't control the story and, even if they try to, the author still dictates it.)

You see, I started a food fight in King Morain's castle and what did I get? Almost arrested.

Donovan resists arrest and what does he get? A kiss from the princess of Spirulous. Like he's all that. I'll have you know, he's a dork. (That's another word I learned today. It means, "a stupid or foolish person.") All he used to do back in the village was cook, or help Mama in the shop, or do all his chores like a perfect kid. He was nothing like me: a bad boy with ladies chasing after me left and right. I'm the exciting one. If anyone deserves to kiss a princess, it's me.

Oh, well. She didn't like it, anyway. I could tell by the way her face got all red. She asked to come with us after that, when we were heading out of the castle (more like running from guards, but whatever). I think it was because she saw me coming. I don't blame her, really. I am devastatingly handsome. You know that. ;)


Anyway, I really don't like the way Jill has set things up. I mean, what made her think I wanted to be with a bunch of idiots on this journey? Granted, she probably didn't want (a) girls, because they'd fight over me, or (b) smart people, because then it wouldn't be as obvious that I'm the greatest of all characters. But, you know, it's a lot of pressure being this cool. Jill really likes to put all that work on my shoulders, but I take it like a man, since I am one.

Which brings me back to the first part about why I shouldn't have a diary.

She said if she had to write all November, we did, too. Gael was brave enough to challenge her, but he lost when she threatened to have Morella (his five year old sister) appear and tag along for the journey. She threatened Rylan with having Fiona show up. She threatened me with Mama. That's why I'm writing right now.

I'm not sure whether or not Mama or Fiona will show up, but I've read some of Jill's ideas. Lying to her characters . . . Tsk, tsk. Poor Gael won't even see it coming. I don't plan on telling him, not now. There's no way I'm sticking my neck out and risking my mama showing up. She's scary when she's mad.

"Just write about how you feel," Jill explained earlier, as we all stared at her like she'd grown seven heads. "Or write about your day. I don't care what you write as long as it's nonfiction and something you wrote yourself." Lorcan groaned and then she added, "Fine. Write fiction if you want, but you have to write it yourself."

IMHO (a phrase I learned, it stands for "in my humble opinion"), she didn't give us enough details. So, I don't know what to write. I think I'll just sit here and pretend I'm writing. Oh, wait. I am writing. I guess this counts, since it's taking up space. Word. Word. Word.

Elroy.
 
Plemmons.

Is.

Awesome.

Wow. This is nonfiction. :D

Well, I guess I'll get going for now. My author is about to start writing again and apparently I'm needed on the set. Or something.

BTW (stands for "by the way"), Jill has the key to your lock, Journal. Please don't let her open you. Resist. Be strong, even if she tries to read the true words I've written, don't let her. She will take it and turn it into something else. You're the last bit of freedom of speech I have.

Great. Now she's yelling at me. With a smirk on her face. Her blog is open. I know where this is heading.

BE STRONG, DIARY MANLY JOURNAL WITH FEELINGS OF ONLY AWESOMENESS WRITTEN IN YOU.