Eclipse

Eclipse.jpg

I pass through places dark and lost,

Prices higher than what I’d cost.

I walk through worlds without a word,

Watching the flight of an mockingbird.

I stride through cities consumed by the past,

Sorrowful nations that had seen their last.

I stagger through streets sometimes all alone,

Searching for a seat to call my throne.

I dance through domains drowned by death,

Desolate darkness where none draw breath.

I ramble through realms wrought in the rain,

Rebels and rogues who realize pain.

I flee federations forgotten and found,

Fading fantasies that fear has crowned.

I linger through lands longing for her lips,

Lonely and lamenting this my heart’s Eclipse.

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A Very Merry Elemental Christmas

ElementalChristmas

Part 1

“Make my wish come true! Cause baby all I want for Christmas…. Is YOU!” Earth sings into her broom handle.

Her teacher, Mrs. Mason, claps and says, “Wonderful, Earth! Wonderful! Thanks for staying after school to help me clean up from the big holiday party, you guys!”

“Aw, no problem, Mrs. Mason!” Earth says.

Hickory sets his broom down and says, “Hey, guys, let’s go to Earth’s house now!”

Earth, Inferno, Marina, Thunder, and Blaze all shout “Yeah!” in reply.

“Bye, Mrs. Mason! See you after winter break!” Earth yells to Mrs. Mason while heading out the classroom door. The six friends run out to their lockers and grab their book bags from their lockers. Earth swings her book bag over her shoulder and says, “Last one to their jump speeder picks last from my mom’s cookie batch!”  And she dashes down the hallway to the small set of stairs leading to the lower level of school.

She jumps the last few steps and runs across the floor to the school door. Earth flings open the doors and sprints over to where her jump speeder is parked. She straddles it and thrusts the handles forward to start the engines. Her friends come out shortly after, and Marina is last to get on her jump speeder.

Earth laughs, “Ha ha! Marina! You get to pick last from my mom’s fresh batch of cookies!”

“Awwww! Earth! You know I hate running!” Marina whines, getting on her jump speeder

The six friends zoom off down the road, heading towards Earth’s house. They zip up her driveway and park their jump speeder in the garage. They sprint off down the sidewalk, and Earth knocks on the door to her house.

“Mom! Open up! We know you have cookies in there!” Earth yells at the door.

Her mom opens the door and says,

“Earth, sweetie, you don’t have to yell at the door!”

“I know, I know,” Earth replies, walking into her house, which was decorated ceiling to floor in Christmas decorations.

 

The Joys of NaNoWriMo

 

NaNoWriMo logo

By TJ Lawrence

Now that November is coming up, I’m here to tell you about National Novel Writing Month.  (That’s the NaNoWriMo I referred to above; participants are affectionately called WriMos, and it’s in – you guessed it – November.)

NaNoWriMo is a bit of a challenge.  It requires you to set your own bar high. For adults, 50,000 words in a month is the preset goal.  For people under 18, there is a separate site, where any goal – from just 1,000 words to 100,000 words – can be chosen.  For some, the pressure to reach your goal is stimulating. NaNo definitely encourages commitment.  Commitment to your ideas and your abilities, no matter if you produce a polished novel or 80 double-spaced pages of ‘word vomit’ that you will eventually have to rewrite. (< me)

If you’ve been struggling to write your book/script/fic/etc. on your own, the best thing about NaNoWriMo is that it makes you feel less alone.  There are supportive writers’ chats, places you can get storytelling tips, revision centers… and all of them are full of people who are having problems just like you are.  Wrote your main squad into a corner?  Yeah, somebody else probably stuck them in a lava temple with zombie alligators and forgot the secret exit was blocked.  Just can’t kill someone off? There are dozens of messy, tear-filled posts about dealing with that.  Writer’s block? Every single person on the site has probably been there.  If they already fixed their problem, you can get tips on how to solve your issue.  And if they are still stuck, you may be able to help them, giving you that wonderful, fuzzy good-deed-for-the-day feeling and establishing your ‘blog cred’ as a helpful individual.

NaNoWriMo YWP (the under-18 version) launched a redesigned site in time for November of last year.  It has a cool writing interface that automatically logs your words (make sure to save your work somewhere else too, though) and can bring up writing prompts to get you started for the day.  And you can use the site any month of the year – although November is when the party really gets started.  In addition to help blogs and character workshops, there are also chats about fandoms, roleplays, and additional miscellaneous randomness.  Famous authors (John Green, Lois Lowry, etc.) provide short and extremely encouraging pep talks to keep you going until midnight, Nov. 30.

But NaNoWriMo is just the beginning of your book.  It kick-starts your feeling of accomplishment, of actually getting something done, of creating an entirely new world, character, plot, or whatever you want!  Doing NaNo was worth it for me because I learned to believe in myself and in my imagination.  I will continue writing about Cory and Marie and Dennis and all of my other new characters.  I know who they are, and what they will do, and soon the rest of the world will too.  But the point of NaNoWriMo, for everyone, is that you start.  You try! You are doing it, and there’s no point to hesitation.  After NaNo, you will have more hard work to get through.  But NaNoWriMo lets you know that you can work hard, on time, and create whatever kind of story you put your imagination into.

NaNoWriMo

NaNoWriMo Young Writers’ Program

Sonnet No. 1 – The Fighting Sonnet (Part Two)

silhouette of Viking warrior

By tiarshuspendragon

The mage let his head fall into his hands, seriously considering forcing the warrior to take a nap.

However, the bard popped up and squinted against the sun. “You know, I’ve never seen this viking dude, because I was busy buying food while you guys were kicking his butt. So I’m not gonna miss out on the off chance that he actually is – ” The bard’s jaw dropped mid-sentence. “Oh, wow. That guy is more bear than man.”

“Ah, good, so he’s not a hallucination.” The warrior grinned broadly, pleased with himself, as the mage helped him to his feet. As he caught sight of the large man again, he frowned slightly. “Or . . . not good. Not good, because that means he’s here. And wants to attack us.”

“I would want to attack us if I were him. You went a bit over the top with the creative insults,” the mage remarked, giving the warrior a dry look.

The bard snickered. “Now those I heard. But are we going to battle him this time? I have a feeling our main fighter – ” (a pointed look at the warrior) ” – isn’t really up for fighting.”

“I beg to differ!” The warrior bent over, picked up what he must have thought was his sword (it was, in fact, a stick, and not even a very pointy one), and brandished it in front of him. His face went pale from standing up too fast and he swayed on his feet.

The mage grabbed him before he could fall. With a Charismatic Grin™, the warrior slung an arm over his friend’s shoulders for support. “See? I’m perfectly fine. Able bodied warrior, right here.”

“I see what you mean,” the mage replied to the bard, ignoring the protests of the boy he was half carrying by that point. “You and I are distance fighters more than anything, which works best when we have someone else engaging the enemy up close. Unfortunately, our warrior here is the one who performs best in close combat. So I suppose we need a different plan.”

Frowning, the bard watched as Oswalt the Unfriendly Viking Man approached. The overly muscular man seemed to be in no hurry, which only made him all the more intimidating. “Hey – did the insults rile him up enough to make his fighting sloppy?”

“I think so . . .” The mage’s lips pursed as he tried to remember.

“They made him very angry,” the warrior put in smugly. He leaned toward the bard and whispered, “Especially when I made fun of his tiny, adorable battle axe.”

A grin started to form on the bard’s face. “Good, then I have an idea – no, not about the axe, you sleep-deprived weirdo – but you guys are just going to have to trust me and go with it.”

“Done and done.” The mage shifted his weight slightly (the warrior was not exactly light). “Just going with it is our main way of doing things. So what do you need us to do?”

Stooping over, the bard picked up the mage’s bag from the ground. “Well, I’ll be needing this. You should probably put our sleepy friend somewhere – ” (the bard gestured vaguely away from the path) ” – where he’ll be safe, because I’m going to need you, dear mage, to sneak up close to that behemoth. I’ll try to distract him. When he seems angry enough, strike as hard and fast as you can, and then get the heck out of there. Not that I doubt your strength or anything, but I haven’t fought this guy. I don’t know if one hit will bring him down.”

“It may and it may not,” the mage said grimly. “It all depends on whether he’s fully healed from our last encounter. But we’ll figure it out, one way or another.” He moved to duck into the surrounding tall grass, dragging the warrior with him; but before he did, he paused and turned back to the bard. “May I ask how you plan to distract Oswalt?”

The bard only gave him a smirk. “Oh, you’ll hear. I do hope you’ll enjoy the show.”

Julius Caesar: the Immortality Plot

Drawing of bust of Julius Caesar

By fmarie0112

Julius Caesar was a proud, strong and intelligent man. Some might ask, what could he possibly gain by orchestrating his own death? To this question the simple answer is immortality. Just as any great leader would, Caesar wanted to leave a legacy; he wanted to be remembered once he was gone. Caesar had “temporal lobe epilepsy, a progressive disorder resulting in a loss of mental and physical control (including bowel control)” (Hodder). This disorder would have eventually killed Caesar, and having his people witness his slow deterioration would have tarnished the strong self-image he worked so hard to build for himself. Would William Shakespeare have still written a play about him if he was a once undefeated dictator dying slowly of an incurable disease, rather than a powerful conqueror betrayed by his peers? He probably wouldn’t have. Caesar orchestrating a plan to die at the hands of the conspirators made him immortal through the unforgettable legacy he left behind. While this would justify Caesars desire to plan his own assassination, it does not prove that he took the necessary steps to create the plan. Although there are no firsthand accounts indicating that Caesar took part in planning his death, it can be seen through the actions during and leading up to the event that Caesar perfectly set the stage. As previously mentioned, Caesar was an inelegant man, he had to of known about “the impending plot – there have been persistent rumors of it throughout the city. And yet he dismisses his bodyguard and walks alone” (Bursztajn). Rumors had been spreading about the city, it is doubtful that Caesar had no idea that the assassination would be happening. Even knowing that he had men within his city that wanted him dead, he chose to leave his bodyguards outside. Had Caesar not wanted to die, he would have increased the presence of his guards after becoming aware of the threat. Lastly, Caesar changes his will just six months prior to having been killed and this provided insight to his political agenda. By leaving the guards at the door, Caesar created the perfect opportunity for the conspirators to kill him, which would “ensure that his will is honored, and that Octavian will succeed him. By tricking the conspirators onto the wrong side of the law, Caesar ensures that they cannot themselves seize power and that his dynasty will survive” (Bursztajn). In doing this Caesar has become not only immortal through his memory, but also physically through the dynasty he has created. The conspirators, such as Brutus, are the primary people that would have tried to seize power once Caesar had passed. Now that they have killed Caesar, they have become enemies of the state and the people are no longer willing to follow them. Therefor Caesar’s wish for his nephew to rule after him would be granted, seeing as there would no longer be a struggle for power.

The Elementals- book 1 -How it all Started

Image of sphere broken into four elements.

By: sharkgirl25

Chapter Four – Her Bark is Worse than her Bite

“Oh. My. Gosh!” Marina yells in astonishment. “I cannot believe that we have powers!”

“Okay, okay! Calm down, Marina! It’s not like we just won the lottery or something!” Earth says.

“Actually, Earth, it’s just like winning the lottery! Just think of what we can do!” Inferno says.

Earth thinks of the possibilities. Well, she thinks, I can always grow a tree and tie Shatcene the drama queen to it, and then have poison grow out of her sock. And I can make lots of trees grow, so that way the loggers don’t have to cut down the rainforests, and I can turn dry, dead grass into fresh, new green grass! 

“Well… WHO THE POMEGRANATE AM I KIDDING?! THIS IS SO AWESOME!” Earth yells, startling her friends.

Eliza walks by, and purposefully knocks Earth to the ground, shoving Inferno and Marina as well. When Earth’s hands touch the ground, two flowers pop up. She realizes what she did and points her hand toward Eliza’s feet, and poison ivy slinks its way up her leg, tightening its grip. She goes to take another step, and falls, smearing mud all over her pink dress.

“Auuuuuugghhhhh!” she screams, realizing that poison ivy was holding her down, and that she got mud smeared along the front of her new dress.

Vines wrap around her, pinning her to the ground, which Earth had coated with a fresh layer of mud. Earth, still on the ground, laughs so much she turns into a hyena. Earth the hyena rolls on the ground, laughing, and then springs up and runs circles around Eliza, laughing. Inferno and Marina stare at Eliza, who is on the ground, struggling, and then at Earth the hyena, who is running circles around Eliza, still laughing. Marina can’t stand Earth’s laughing, and Eliza’s screams, so she yells,

“STOP! IT’S TOO ANNOYING!”

Earth changes back into a girl, but still has a hyena tail. The vines and poison disappear, and so does the mud on her dress. Earth’s hyena tail vanishes, and she stands up, saying,

“What. The pomegranate. Just. Happened?”

Eliza stands up and says,

“Ewww! What was I doing on the ground?! And why are you guys here? Get out of my way!” She walks away, clearly having no memory of the previous events. Earth, however, remembers it all.

“One thing’s for sure,” Marina says.

“What’s that?” Inferno asks.

“Earth’s bark is worse than her bite!”

Earth laughs. “Depends on what type of tree it is!”

 

Horror Story #2

Image result for creepy hospital room

By: shreythemockingjay36

I’m 15 years old and am visiting my grandfather at the hospital. This is his deathbed because he just had a stroke and is 91 years old. I didn’t know him very well.

I walk into the room and my mother is holding his hand. “I need to talk to him alone, sweetie” he says to my mom. “How’s it going kiddo?” He asks. “Why do you need to talk to me alone” I ask in suspicion. ” I need to tell you something that I’m not very proud of but it’s very important” he says. At this point I thought he was on some sort of drug to help him live.

He continues “It was 1965 and I was living in New Orleans. I committed a terrible crime and got caught. I was in my prison cell, when I remembered some sort of spell I heard in the streets.” He says “This is totally-” I’m cut of by a sharp high pitched sound. “We don’t have much time!” My grandpa says. “I chanted Eruzlie Zink over and over. Then a large amount of smoke and a very tall and slim ugly thing comes out of it. His face was very disturbing and had dark red eyes, no nose and very sharp teeth. He grinned at me” he says. ” Next thing I knew I was out of my prison cell and in the parking lot right outside.

He was right next to me, grinning and said in a deep and disturbing voice ” Everything comesss with a priceee”. Then he disappeared, until the stroke, he was there and he said ” You’re grandson will pay the price of your freedom,” He finished. When I was about to ask him what he meant, his heart monitor went to a straight line. A long perpetual beeping noise filled the air. I ran to get my mom and the doctor said there’s nothing they can do.

As I walked into the room to see him for the last time, I realized my grandfather had red in his eyes!