To those to whom this content is familiar: for some reason the original of this post didn’t get included in the newsie it was meant for. I thought it would be rather confusing to leave it as it was so I rewrote it a bit and reposted it for this week. I recently got to watch The Hunger Games with a group of excellent friends. I read the books needing to know what happened to Peeta, and I had to watch the movie so I could
Category Archives: Awesome!
Ha ha! I really couldn’t think of what to write for this personal note and then I thought that was pretty ironic considering the recommendation I made. The weather is finally beginning to turn warm. My car told me it was 68 degrees outside as I drove around to complete my errands. It was so nice I didn’t even need a jacket: just my t-shirt, jeans, and my jeweled FitFlops. This would have only been ironic had I worn my
I had a dream — No really! I really dreamed this! — that big, giant (10 feet!), yellow spiders were after me! They were even immune to my magical fire abilities and also refused to be drowned. As they closed in on me I thought, “What could kill giant spiders?” And then a light bulb. “Giant birds!” Of course! So I created an army of giant birds that ate all the giant spiders.
Hearts have layers. They also sprout when you leave them out in the sun. They smell nice too, though I think that’s a preference thing.
Here it is at long last, the winning entry to the 2010 Art of the Written Word Writing Contest: The Diva By Elona Rohde She could hear the call. It was time to perform. She was called upon every night. No nights off for a sore throat. No holidays. How long would she have to perform? A week? A year? It didn’t matter. She would continue performing as long as she had her audience. She was ready now. She walked
What was the first story you fell in love with? Was it about a princess who found her true love, pirates burying their treasure, or perhaps dragons protecting their cave? Who was it that showed you the power of the written word? Did you sit, mesmerized, on your grandmother’s lap as she read you nursery rhymes? Was it your mother at bedtime? Or your father as he bounced you on his knee and growled as he read a book about