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.

With Love From Characters Who Hate Your Plot :)

Hello. It is I, Lorcan Madill. My author left her blog open again and, since I recently discovered all the terrible things she's going to do to us -- particularly me -- this November, I decided it wouldn't hurt to type something up here. I should have just started this post pretending to be her, but it's too late. I'm already here and I'm not erasing anyhting anything.

So, I considered writing a story about Jill and seeing how she likes it, but Donovan won't let me. He says it's too dangerous. He's probably right. However, instead of a story about my author, I'll write one about myself that'll be ten times better than that silly novel of hers. Prepare to be amazed.

~The Legendary Lorcan and Friends~

He stood there, surrounded on all sides by the vicious knights who'd come to take the princess back to her palace. There was no escaping. With their swords drawn and their bodies fully covered in armor, they were prepared for a fight and a fight they would get.

You see, they weren't about to battle just anyone. They were going to battle Lorcan Madill, the greatest fighter Dalithorne had ever seen. He'd won numerous fights against villainous thugs and his idiotic friends. He wasn't well-known, but only because anyone who had ever crossed him never lived to tell the tale.

He stared at his enemies, confidence evident in his brown eyes. This was going to be a piece of cake.

"Your eyes aren't brown," came a voice suddenly, startling our protaganist and all the knights surrounding him. "They're gray."

Lorcan rolled his eyes as he turned to face Elroy, who had been given no permission to enter his story. "I think I would know what color my own eyes are. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to save my darling Cahira from those evil men over there."

Elroy smiled mischievously as he stared at something behind his friend the person he was annoying. "Ah, but your darling has already been saved."

"What?" Whirling around to see who could have possibly ruined his story further, Lorcan spotted none other than Donovan Plemmons, Elroy's brother, running away from the sea of distracted knights, holding the hand of Princess Cahira, who looked rather ticked off. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

"This isn't realistic at all," said Cahira, who let go of Donovan's hand and glanced back at everyone else. "If you're going to write about me, at least don't make me a damsel in distress."

"But you are one."

She shot a glare in the direction of a smirking Rylan Laury, who had appeared out of no where. "Who said you could be in this story? And, if you're here, you might as well help me out. Don't be such a guy."

He rolled his eyes, climbing into one of the nearby trees and motioning for everyone else to quiet down. "I hear something."

Elory snickered to himself, elbowing Lorcan playfully. "Careful, guys! He's thinking! This could get dangerous." And then a hole appeared in the ground beneath his feet and he fell straight down it, never to return again. Even as he dropped further and further, his voice could still be heard, "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO MEEEEEEE!"

"It's my story, so, yes. I can." Lorcan grinned proudly. "Now I see why Jill likes this stuff!"

"Something's coming," Rylan told them again, but Lorcan ignored him, snapping his fingers. The princess appeared in his arms and he was nearly giggling with glee before the knights all took a step forward, pointing their swords at him. He held Cahira closer to him, closing his eyes and smiling. "If writing is always a dream like this, please don't wake me up."

"Lorcan?"

"What is it, darling?"

"Put me down."

"My apologies, Princess, but that cannot happen. If I put you down, I'll wake up."

Pushing herself out of his arms, the princess laid flat on the ground with everyone else just before a humongous creature swooped down, nearly hitting all of them.

Actually, it did hit Lorcan, who found himself suddenly hundreds of feet in the air, falling from the sky. He considered screaming, and even fainting, but, after a while, he finally came to his senses and realized that neither of those things would be very manly, especially not when he was the best fighter in all of Dalithorne. So, instead, he closed his eyes and smiled just as he had earlier, not even thinking about how it would feel when he collided with the treetops or whatever it was he found his face crashing into, several seconds later.

"Hey, Lorcan!" someone shouted at him over the wind. Looking up, he recognized Princess Neala Fulton, that crazy chick who followed Gael around everywhere. She looked pretty enchanting, sitting there with the wind blowing through her hair and her smile lighting up the cloudy sky. (Really. You write yourself into my story to say something cheesy like that? -_-)

Wait. Why was the wind blowing through her hair? He looked down cautiously, holding on for dear life when he realized he was on the head of something green and scaly.

A dragon? Okay. Who gave the crazy girl a dragon?

"This is fun, right?" she exclaimed. Her eyes were sparkling with joy, or maybe it was just the wind, but, either way, she looked like she was having a good time. At least that made one of them. "I've almost figured out how to steer this thing!"

"Almost . . .?" It was true that there were not a lot of things that scared Lorcan Madill, but he figured anyone in his place would be terrified, so he took a moment to close his eyes and hope he'd make it out of this to tell the guys he'd survived yet another life threatening situation.

She giggled, looking more like a hyena than a princess. "Hold on tight."

He was about to ask what she was going doing when he suddenly felt himself sliding downward as the dragon started a nose dive toward the treetops. "Hey! No! Neala, go up, up! What's wrong with you?!"

"The others are probably worried about you," she explained, like it all made perfect sense. He finally allowed himself to scream as they got closer and closer to the trees and, finally, she knocked him right into a branch, sending him free falling toward the earth again. "Sorry, Lorcan!" And then she was gone, her half hearted apology echoing in his pounding head.

He was pretty sure Neala had just done the knights' job for them, but he couldn't bring himself to hate her for wanting to have some fun. So, he shouted for someone to rescue him as he hit branch after branch, getting closer and closer to the forest floor.

He was almost to the bottom of the first layer of branches when, suddenly, he hit something, hard, and went right back up into the air again, this time with someone else in front of him. "GET OUT OF MY STORY!" he screamed.

Gael barely glanced back at him, but the icy glare was unmistakable. "Fine. Next time I'll let you drop to your death."

Lorcan made a face, but didn't say anything he'd regret later. "What were you doing down here, anyway? It's dangerous for dragons to fly this low."

"Well, since that idiotic princess is set on getting herself into danger, I didn't have much of a choice, now did I?" His jaw clenched and he leaned closer to the dragon, a red one Elroy had named Phoenix, just as they soared upward, away from the treetops. "She took one of the dragons when I wasn't looking. She's more trouble than she's worth."

"So, you're just going to chase after her? Can't you at least drop me off?"

Gael glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. "Do you really want me to?"

He was about to say yes, but thought better of it. "Nah, I changed my mind . . ."

They were just catching up with Princess Neala when they flew right into a cloud and then, suddenly, they were back on the ground, with no dragons in sight and Neala right by their side. "What happened?" she asked.

Donovan shrugged. "You guys kind of pushed us out of the story. Oh, besides, Fiona and Driscol showed up."

Fiona waved enthusiastically and Driscol offered a nod, smiling a bit.

Lorcan sighed dramatically, leaning his head up against a nearby tree. "Why me?" he muttered pathetically. "Why me? Why can't you guys just stay out of my story and let me save Cahira from all the knights?" He cast a sideways glance at the knights, who weren't even concerned with the princess anymore. They were now all sitting down, laughing and telling stories. "See? Even they aren't working with me."

Rylan smirked, hopping down from the tree to stand next to his best friend. "And you expected all of us to cooperate why . . .?"

"Because you guys are my friends! And you could have been in the story, but no one got to see my awesome skills thanks to you and everyone else."

They all fell silent, each of them exchanging guilty glances and apologetic expressions. "We'll try to let you have the spotlight next time," Driscol promised and everyone else nodded.

"No, you won't," came a new voice. They all froze.

No.

It couldn't be.

But it was.

There stood Jill, only a few feet away, Elroy by her side. She had her eyebrows raised and she wore a look of accusation. "Which one of you hacked my blog?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Wasn't me," Elroy said softly, sticking his tongue out at Lorcan.

The other boy shot him a look that probably could have killed, if he had anymore control over this story. "Why are you back?"

The redhead shrugged. "The plot needed me, I guess."

"What plot? I'm not even sure this is the same story anymore."

Jill smiled, walking over to Lorcan and cocking her head to one side. "So, tell me, what happened today?"

He shook his head. "I was going to write a story while you were gone, but all the characters wanted to do their own thing and it was ridiculous! They didn't follow the script. They wouldn't even listen to me, for crying out loud!" He shot an unpleasant glare at everyone surrounding them. "They made up their own minds and this story didn't go anything like I planned. Idiots."

She smiled wider now, but tried not to show how happy she was. "So, what have you learned today, Lorcan?"

"Never hack your blog?"

"No."

"Never write with friends in the room?"

"Nope."

"Never write at all?"

She shot him a look.

"Never let your author participate in NaNoWriMo?"

"YES!" everyone else shouted and Jill rolled her eyes. "That's not it either."

"I don't know!"

"What everyone learned today," she began, "is exactly how the author feels. She--"

Elroy gasped. "Or he!"

"--Or he can have something brilliant in mind and the characters often want to do something entirely different. Unfortunately, there's nothing the author can do about that, other than just go along with what the characters want and see where the story goes. Sooo . . ."

Lorcan looked down, biting his lip as he thought. "So . . ." A wild smile appeared on his face as he glanced up at the others. "So that means that no matter what you have planned for this November, we're in control!"

The others were silent as they exchanged looks of excitement, but it wasn't long before they caught on. "YEAH!"

"Whoo! Characters rule!"

"We're the real authors!"

"Have fun with NaNo, Jill!"

"BEST. DAY. EVER."

"Stop quoting Tangled, you idiot. We're not supposed to know about that movie."

"Who are you calling an idiot, idiot?!"

"Ladies, please. You're all gorgeous."

"ELROY!"

"Hey, where'd the dragons go?"

"Don't. You. Dare."

Jill sighed, but this sigh was a happy one. She loved them all, as crazy as they might have been. So, with a smile on her face and her head held high, she eagerly awaited November 1st, when she and many other writers would begin their novels and write about characters that would grow very dear to them over the next month. She was about to publish the blog post, but Lorcan jumped in front of her. He had to finish his story first.

And so, Lorcan Madill overcame everything he was forced to endure. Although he went up against lazy knights, a crazy princess with a dragon, and the wrath of his author, he survived, but not without many battle scars. And as his tale comes to an end, he realizes he has learned a valuable lesson. He doesn't remember which lesson that was, but he knows he learned one. So, with a crazy smile upon his face, his story ends until November, when he and all the other characters will return, writing their own story and giving Jill the credit. :)

The End.

Closed Doors Are Opening and the Light Is Shining In

Lately, I've been realizing something important about life, God, and myself. It's kind of hard to explain, so bear with me.
  I've come to a place in my life where I don't want to care about anything except my Heavenly Father and what He wants me to do. It sounds simple, and, really, it is. The world tries to get in the way, though, and it has a way of distracting us without us even noticing.
  Picture this: You feel fine. Life is going exactly the way you want it to go. Everything's seemingly perfect and then, suddenly, you realize that you don't want to be happy anymore, because happiness isn't as great as it seemed from so far away. You realize you're still lacking something, even after all the trouble you went through trying to get what you have in the first place.
  Isn't that sort of disappointing?
  So, naturally, you do one of two things. You either (1), give up. It's easy, it involves no effort at all, and you don't need to care anymore. Or, you do 2, which is basically going out and looking for something to fill the void in your life.
  This might sound terribly upsetting, and hopefully it won't crush your dreams, but you will never, ever find that thing that fills the void in your life. Never. Ever.
  It might fill the emptiness for a while, but eventually, just like with everything else, you'll realize that your happiness isn't all it was cracked up to be. So you start searching again.
  At this point, it's an endless circle and you keep going around and around, because you believe that, maybe, someday, you'll find exactly what it was you were looking for, even though you have no idea what that was.
  "Love" will come and go, as will dreams. People will come for a season, and some even for a lifetime, but they won't fill the emptiness in your life. Stuff won't, people can't, and you'll probably still go dancing in circles like you'll actually find something.
  But lately, I've realized that there's nothing you can find, at all, unless you look in the last place you ever expected: Inside of yourself.
  There. You see it. You want to laugh and cry and scream and shout, because you were so silly. You literally spent all that time searching for something that had been with you the whole time. Your emptiness flies away, just like a butterfly on a spring day, and then you're okay. You're not happy anymore, for that's overrated.
  Happiness is something people want, and often find, but they don't like it once they have it. A lot of things, a lot of people, will make you happy, but they don't seem to matter anymore. Your happiness is now replaced with joy -- unspeakable, unbreakable, everlasting joy. And you love it.
  It's like being a kid on Christmas, getting the greatest present anyone could ever get: Even simply holding the box in your hands -- the box wrapped up in gorgeous, sparkling paper -- you feel like you're on top of the world. You feel like you're so loved, so accepted, so totally amazing, because someone cared enough to give you that gift. Just the wrapping is perfect, so imagine the gift itself.
  Finally, you've found what it was you'd been searching for. You've found that it was inside of you all along, and that, ironically, it had nothing to do with you. It was Someone who loved you and cared enough about you, to bless your heart, life, mind, and spirit with the gift of Himself. He's been there all along, and yet you had searched the world, knowing you would never find true joy there.
  He doesn't mind, though. He isn't angry. And that's the cool part. Even after all this time, after watching you search endlessly, He still smiles at you so lovingly, and reaches out His arms, pulling you into the warmest hug you will ever get. His warmth, His radiance, His life, you can feel it all, even in such a simple hug. He isn't angry. He's Papa. He loves you, no matter what you might do.
  And in that moment -- in that beautiful, blissful, amazing moment -- you feel completely different. You forget about everything bad you've ever done, you forget the things people have done to you, and your forget every insecurity you've ever had, and just . . . stay there, in that moment, in His arms. You're safe. You're okay. You're loved.
  You finally understand something that had once been so complicated. You finally realize the simplicity of love, of life. You are able to grasp what real acceptance is. You're able to comprehend that worldly happiness, and worldly "love," will get you no where. You know now what true love is. You know now you have a Father who will always, always love you, with an unconditional Love.
  Take a moment. Be thankful, be excited, be blessed, be at peace, be absolutely crazy, and just enjoy Papa's love, because it's always been here. It never left and it never will.
  My doors, that were so tightly closed, keeping me locked away, are open now. There's a light shining in -- a light so beautiful that even words cannot describe. It's filling up the room, leaving not even a speck of darkness, loneliness, or any other worldly thing. The light is engulfing me, engulfing you, and it's now surrounding our hearts, our lives.
  Our Papa is calling. It's time to run into His arms.

Of Novels, Sleepless Authors, and Disgustingly Nice People

I've had plenty of ideas for blog posts and I've wanted to update my blog for a while, but nothing ever seemed good enough. xD But that's just what happens when you realize that you're not just writing to yourself. Other people actually read this random thing of yours called a blog... O_O

So... I've finally decided to just write one. This has no real point to it, other than the fact I'm going to try and talk about writing. Although I might go off on a few rabbit trails. You never know.

Anyway. National Novel Writing Month is literally the day after tomorrow. I mean, who cares about Halloween when you have November 1st to look forward to?! ;)

The funny thing is... I've thought about writing a different novel than the one I had planned. I thought of writing a fanfiction novel (which isn't really accomplishing anything on my part) and I thought about writing a novel about dragons, based on a dream I had once.

I guess I've felt altogether unprepared for NaNo this year. But it took something kind of big to make me return to my original idea for a novel. I won't say what it was, but I can say that I know I need to write that novel. For other people, for myself, for God. So, I'm going to write it.

Even after making that decision, distractions are still popping up at the wrong times. I just want to focus on NaNo, but a lot is going on right now. And some distractions I could avoid.

But the lack of sleep in this house is ridiculous and I'm not sure how to avoid that - other than praying. Everyone has been kind of exhausted lately, because none of us were really sleeping well for a few nights. It's mainly the cat keeping us up. Like last night when I was trying to be nice and let him sleep in my room.

He kept me up all night long.

He likes to sleep during the day and hunt at night, but the storms have been scaring him a bit. When I was just about to fall asleep at one o'clock in the morning, he decides it's the perfect time to want to go outside. So, he meows. And keeps me awake. Until five-thirty this morning.

I ran into the same door twice and spilled cold water on my feet just in an attempt to get him outside.

Needless to say, if this blog post doesn't make sense, there's a reason.

But that's just me complaining. Although it was a nice example of annoying/distracting things. I guess the no-sleep thing might be me preparing for NaNo without realizing it. NaNoWriMo is a time for no sleep, right?

Anyway, it's not just that that's distracting me. It's a lot of stuff. Church, school, family, real life. Those are far more important than writing 50,000 words in a month. Even fanfiction is distracting me. xD I had the sudden urge to update all of my unfinished fanfictions last night, but I had to tell myself, "NO. Not two days before NaNo."

Not to mention reading fanfictions. Why is that when I'm about to write a full-length novel I have the urge to read a ton of Legend of Zelda fanfictions? And THEY'RE DISTRACTING. And addicting. >.>

But I shan't (love that word) complain anymore. Like I said, I know I need to write that novel - and I will, no matter what might be going on.

You see, it's not that my novel is so spectacular that the world needs to read it. I don't think that anyone should read it, if they don't want to. But I know someone who really needs to read it, someone who needs to know he/she isn't alone. And that's the point of my book. I suddenly want to write it, and that hasn't happened ever since I first started outlining several months ago.

Now, I've been sitting here for three or four - maybe even five - minutes trying to think of something to say after that. There's honestly nothing to add to that subject right now. This blog post is really jumping all over the place. I knew that would happen.

But at least I'm posting! :D

Uh, anyway, as for the Zelda fanfictions... yes. They are very intriguing. I read twenty-five chapters of one yesterday since I apparently had too much spare time on my hands. Everything about the Legend of Zelda has always been interesting to me. I got Skyward Sword for my birthday and I love it so far.

The first Zelda game I ever played was Ocarina of Time and I played that when I was really little. My brother had given it to my sisters and I for our Nintendo 64 (we're cool like that). But I was just starting the Great Deku Tree when those huge spider things scared the mess out of me. o_O I was little, and scared of spiders, so I dropped the controller and ran screaming to my parents. It was terrifying.

I tried to play it more over the years, but those redead things scared me more than anything. xD Still do, sometimes. But I finished the game when I was twelve, I think. After all those years.

Even though Link was the main character - and definitely awesome - I still never found him to be my favorite character. Princess Zelda wasn't even my favorite character. Out of everyone in that game, I liked Grog the best. xD

Spoilers for Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (if you read these, the rest will make more sense)...

If you don't remember, or have no idea what the heck I'm talking about, I'll explain... Grog is the dude who sits under the tree in Kakariko Village when Link is a little kid. He says something along the lines of, "People are disgusting. My own father and mother are disgusting. You must be disgusting too."

And then, when Link is an adult, he finds that same dude in the Lost Woods, asleep. After Link wakes the guy up and shows him the blue cucco (chicken, I guess?), the guy is actually happy. He says that only nice people can cause the cucco to crow and that Link must be a nice guy. So, he orders Link to go get some potion from the old woman and if Link gets back in time, it will save Grog.

Link gets the potion and returns, but Grog is gone and replaced by a somewhat creepy little girl claiming that Grog had turned into a Stalfos (a skeleton monster sort of thing). Apparently anyone who stays in the forest for too long will turn into one and Grog did.

Honestly, I have no idea why Grog didn't just leave instead of asking Link to go get the potion. He could've easily saved his own life, but instead he turned into a monster.

End of spoilers.

You can think me weird, if you'd like, but that dude still is my favorite LoZ character.

His fate was unfortunate. And I was really mad at the games for a while because of it, but he's in Majora's Mask, so I wasn't too frustrated with them.

It's hard to explain why I like that character. I mean... he thought the whole world was disgusting. And he was my favorite. And I'm all about optimism. So... it makes no sense, right?

I guess I liked him because of his personality. I know. You're thinking, "What personality?"

But it's like... all along he wanted people to know that he was a nice guy. And it took one guy, just one single person, to notice that and almost save his life. And when Link realized he was a nice guy, he found that someone else in the world wasn't so disgusting anymore. Someone was actually nice.

And... well, that really speaks to me. There are so many people in the world who feel that they're alone, that no one understands. They feel like Grog. They hate the world, because they view it as simply "disgusting."

They can't find beauty in anything, because their lives are so beastly. They want others to know that they're not disgusting. They want people to see that they're actually nice, but they feel like no one is looking, like no one cares. So they keep hating the world. They believe that maybe they too are disgusting.

But then someone comes along. A nice stranger, a family member, a friend, anyone. And they show that person that life isn't so disgusting. They show them that there are nice people in the world. They show them that there is something to live for. And everything turns out all right.

(Obviously, not for Grog, but his situation was very different from normal, real life ones. XD)

So, I guess the point of all that was... Life does seem disgusting sometimes. Grog was right. But some people are not disgusting. There are people out there who care and there are people who are nice, whether you can see that right now or not. God is nice. He's more than nice - He loves you. And He's always there with you as well.

He doesn't make disgusting things. He makes beautiful things with life and light and love. He wants you to open your eyes and know that you are nice, that you're not disgusting. Because He loves you. <3

So... yes. The mysterious cucco dude is my favorite. But now you know the reason. It's both good and bad that it might have taken a video game character - one named Grog, at that - for you to realize the point of this blog post. Or maybe even for you to realize something very important about life.

Anyway, yeah. This post turned out better than I thought it would. A seemingly pointless blog post has turned into something I'm quite proud of.

God's just awesome like that. ;)

<3

If We're All Outcasts...

Once upon a time...

There lived a girl who never updated her blog. Unfortunately, she even forgot about that blog for a long time, because she was experiencing something called:

Real Life.

So, as you can imagine, she was incredibly surprised when she suddenly decided to write a blog post on one, lovely evening in August.

She doesn't know what to write about, but she'll do her best.

I'm sure everyone has had those feelings where you want to write, but you don't know what to write about. It's kind of annoying, but it still feels good to know that I want to write.

There's so many things I could write about. And if I wrote to you everything that I think about in a week, you'd probably be even more confused than I am.

And anyway, I'm sure you don't want to hear a long, random stream of thoughts.

Yeah.

So... NaNoWriMo is coming up. Again. This will be my third year doing it. I love it, though. It makes writing even more of an adventure. 50,000 words in one month is a lot. Plus, there's school, family, music, church, friends, etc. But it's all good. I'm sure there's a way to equally balance all of those things while writing a novel. Many, many brave people have done it before.

And besides, NaNo makes November more exciting. I look forward to it every year and it helps improve my writing.

Last year, I wrote a novel about a popular girl and an outcast boy who had to do a science project together. It was mainly about how not everyone is how they seem to be - and you can't judge a book by its cover.

Yesterday, I watched a movie with my sisters that was very similar to my book. It was almost creepy. Of course, their storyline and purpose were a bit different. But it was the same in a lot of ways, too - popular girl, outcast dude, science project. They even had the same hair color which was shocking.

Other than that, my book and their movie were different.

Still, it's interesting when stuff like that happens.

I'll probably be writing something this year that has the same message. God's shown me a lot of  stuff since last November. I've been finding out that a lot of people feel alone.

A while back, when I felt really alone, I felt like I was the only one who felt that way, like no one else understood.

But at a friend's birthday party, I found that this cool, confident dude who had it all together was going through the exact same thing I was going through. He just wanted to be accepted and to stop being ignored.

He didn't even have to tell me that, because I saw it all over his face.

And then I started noticing more and more people who felt the exact same way.

You're never alone.

I once watched a movie called Logan. In that movie, one of the characters said:

"There's always someone going through the exact same thing you're going through."

I was thinking about that last night. Sometimes we feel like no one understands and no one cares. But there's always someone out there who understands - and there's always someone who cares.

Still, I find it ridiculous that we all find ourselves as outcasts sometimes. Like we're not cool enough or important enough.

But the truth is, we are.

If someone tells you different, then it just means that they're feeling insecure themselves.

We've all felt like outcasts before - each and every one of us.

So, if we're all outcasts, then there is no "in crowd."

Why do we all try so hard to fit in and be cool? Why do we want to be normal?

What is normal, anyway?

I think it's boring. If we were all the same, then this world would be quite confusing. And that, too, would be boring.

I'm not going to segregate someone or myself just because they're different or I'm different. God made all of us. And He said (Galations 3:28):

"There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus."

So, this week, while you're doing whatever it is you do, just remember that verse. And when you see someone who is different then you, think before you judge them. They may be going through exactly what you're going through. And they may be one of the truest friends you'll have, if you get to know them.

"God dances with the outcast."

-Steven James.

Be kind to someone this week. They might need it. ;)

Adventures Are Everywhere

Look behind you.

Adventure could be right there, just waiting for you to turn around.
Now, if you can see those perfectly clear, bold words at the top of this post, then you can DEFINITELY do what they say.
I'm not saying that you should go throw something through a wall, if that's what is behind you. But I am saying that boring everyday routines are sometimes something you need to change.

I recently read a book - a really good one. It was called Middle School: Get Me Out of Here! by James Patterson.

Don't you dare judge me. ;) You know you want to read it too. Besides, James Patterson can write for all ages. And... well, if you'd read the first book right after you left middle school, you'd want to at least finish the series, no matter how old you were.

Anyway, that is so not the point of this blog post. But just a warning starting here: This has spoilers about that book (although there are not too many of them). So, you might want to skip over some of this. Or, of course, you can just keep reading - you'll probably understand this post more if you do.

In the book, the main character, Rafe, had the idea to start a genius plan called, "Operation: Get a Life."

Basically, in the plan, he had to do a large number of things he'd never done before. As long as it was something he'd never done, he could add it to his list. He did quite a bit of cool, hilarious things. I found the whole thing really awesome. 

End of spoilers. 

Ever since I read that book, though, I've been pondering the idea of Operation: Get a Life. Sometimes things, in our lives, get far too average. Routines get old. Then, we get to feeling like we need something more.

But at the same time, we don't know what that "something more" is, so we don't even try to find it.

But I think we should do what Rafe did and try new things. I actually thought about making a list for myself and doing something new as well. Nothing crazy, of course, but just something new and fun. :)

You can always look for adventure, but even so, it still manages to find you when you're least expecting it. And sometimes, when you think your so-called "adventure" will turn out terrible, it turns out great instead.

So, keep that in mind next time you have to try something new.

If a new experience suddenly pops out at you with no warning, don't freak out. It happens to all of us. Just be sure to keep calm and embrace the adventure. ^_^

Actually allowing the adventure to happen is way easier than trying to get rid of it. Trust me, I know.

So, never think of new experiences as unfortunate turns in your simple, boring routines. Think of them as adventures - new exciting places in your life to explore. Because if they're meant to happen, they will, regardless of what your mind says. ;)

I hope you enjoy your adventures! ^_^