<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888</id><updated>2011-07-30T21:00:43.025-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Authors' Rant</title><subtitle type='html'>This is all just one big, long, stupid, witty, crazy, hopeful, rant of aspiring authors.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>29</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-1880247390525358124</id><published>2009-11-06T00:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T00:32:04.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Twilight!</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; 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	font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; 	mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; 	mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; 	mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; 	mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; 	mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} &lt;/style&gt; &lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1026"&gt; &lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt;  &lt;o:shapelayout ext="edit"&gt;   &lt;o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"&gt;  &lt;/o:shapelayout&gt;&lt;/xml&gt;&lt;![endif]--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;My take on the fans of Twilight, and the haters.  I just need to talk about it and this seemed like a good place to put it... even though I haven't posted probably for half a year. Hahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;----&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;There are several things to say about Twilight.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If you know me, then you know I do not like Twilight for the most part.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At first, I LOVED Twilight. Edward, in my opinion, was amazing. (It didn’t help that I was obsessed with Edward Elric from FMA at that time, so I replaced the books description of Edward with the anime Edward Elric.) I also thought I was in love with Jacob Black.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So I read Eclipse when it came out, and I liked it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When Edward and Jacob had that conversation about how amazing Bella was to them… I wished I were Bella.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Bella, Bella, Bella. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;I hope you guys know a Mary-sue when you see one.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Bella &lt;i style=""&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; Stephanie Meyer. I hope that you realize that too.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Well, really, Bella is everything that Stephanie Meyer wished she was.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;AND yadda yadda yadda.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is SO much crap wrong with Twilight, but I don’t give a shit right now.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Read any rant about dissing Twilight and I will most likely agree now, and I don’t really want to rant on it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;But, what I do want to rant about: &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I really am pissed off at is how people are COMPLAINING about how AWFUL Twilight is, ALL the freaking. time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;A few examples.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;“Yeah, so today, I pissed off that Twilighter!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;“I went to the movie only so I could make fun of it!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;“I went as Edward as Halloween, cept I gave him fairy wings!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;“I wrote Twilight sucks on the bathroom wall!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;“Stupid Twitards.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;ETC.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;There are guilds dedicated to hating Twilight.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m in an Anti-Twilight Gaia guild and I joined, you know, just because.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;The same people won’t stop saying how awful Twilight is.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Seriously?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;You can comment for months on end how bad Twilight is?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Get a life.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Eventually, all the Twitards will get one too.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Okay, I can’t hold back a rant.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;A few examples.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Edward- Abusive bipolar boyfriend.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Bella – Mary-sue who can’t survive without a man in her life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She tried to replace Edward with Jacob, but only tried to hurt herself more so she could somehow hear Edward’s voice.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If she’s so smart, why does she do that?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Why does she make her father worry?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;‘cause it’s true love we’re talking about, right?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You can’t just ignore the calling of true love.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;… even though Bella thought she was drastically in love with Edward after two weeks of meeting him… &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;And, ew.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The description of Bella kissing Edward!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Meyer describes Edward as Adonis, the Greek statue, with rock hard skin. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;So it’s basically like kissing a rock. Yuck…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Jacob – Hot, sexy werewolf who lusts after Bella.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And Bella lusts after him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She was never in love with Jacob.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She just thought she was, and disguised her lust for a man with the term ‘love.’ &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Lastly, Midnight Sun – Sex. Ed for Tweens. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;I’m done with my rant.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I will not complain to the world anymore.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I will just go watch New Moon with my friends, and complain about it after the movie.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I will try not to disturb any Twilighter, not that I ever try to anyways.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;(But I don’t speak for my friends.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;/sigh.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;And I would leave the guild on Gaia, but I just haven’t gotten around to it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m just sick of Twilight being analyzed: People who don’t like Twilight KNOW what is wrong with it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Let’s just not join together and talk about how bad it is- that’s been done enough already and it only feeds the Twitards…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNoSpacing" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;;"&gt;Twilight *will* die down. It won’t be soon because of the movies, but… still…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-1880247390525358124?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/1880247390525358124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=1880247390525358124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/1880247390525358124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/1880247390525358124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2009/11/twilight.html' title='Twilight!'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01952170457574333859</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-2205069997536655856</id><published>2009-02-09T09:53:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T09:54:45.220-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, just quickly here, I started a new blog for me to talk about hings non-writing related on. theauthorsdream.blogspot.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nick, go read it.&lt;br /&gt;Holly, your choice, don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~Olivia~~~ Hopeful&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-2205069997536655856?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/2205069997536655856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=2205069997536655856' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/2205069997536655856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/2205069997536655856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2009/02/so-just-quickly-here-i-started-new-blog.html' title=''/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01952591088220521355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-7910316064767105823</id><published>2009-02-02T09:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T09:52:21.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>HAH! I can do this at school!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so... how's life? honestly now, tell me? Ok, ok, fine. I'll go first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;life is awesome.&lt;br /&gt;Your turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you mean that doesn't count??? ok, fine. A little more detail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Corps Cadet Retreat last weekend. Had a blast. Nick couldn't come over yesterday, *cry* but I get to go over to his house today! *celebrates!!!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no, I haven't written anything in a while... yeah, I know. I keep saying I will, and then I don't. So, maybe I just write more often when I'm stressed out... I've noticed that I ussually write poems after I've been thinking so much that I want to cry... and... well, honestly! Why would I want to put myself in that state on purpose?!?!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your turn.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, you.&lt;br /&gt;I know you exist! I am very proud to know that my imaginary audience has graduated into existence! I know of one person out there who reads this! So HAH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and Holly!!! why haven't you posted in forever??? (no, you aren't part of my imaginary audience. You are a coauthor...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, anywayss, bell's a ringin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~~~Olivia~~~&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NWRNWRNWRNWRNWRNWRNWR :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-7910316064767105823?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/7910316064767105823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=7910316064767105823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7910316064767105823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7910316064767105823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2009/02/hah-i-can-do-this-at-school-so.html' title=''/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01952591088220521355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-3379054356286291753</id><published>2008-12-17T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-17T17:08:52.308-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="ms__id26"&gt;AGH!!! I need to write something... I need a plot... I've given up on "Price of Darkness" it was too much of a ... of a ... too... impossible? Then again, I gave up on PoD last year... I also gave up on my "Once Upon a Time" story/bio. I'm thinking, I do best when I stick to short stories.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id25"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id27"&gt;I really want to write a good short story, and post it in PRISM, our school's magazine. Maybe a poem... hmmm.... I'll have to have fun with that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id24"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id45"&gt;Thinking... thinking... thinking....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id28"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id23"&gt;I really don't want to be done writing this post.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id22"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id21"&gt;And how have i been spending my days, such that i have not written to ye, my imaginary audience???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhh... I thought you'd never ask....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id29"&gt;Well, I'm not going to tell you :P&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id30"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id31"&gt;Well, I'll give a hint. It has to do with that "NWR" person i mentioned in my last post....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id32"&gt;Yes, he is still my constant distraction. Two months!!!!!!!!!!!! Two months now... No wonder I LOST at NaNoWriMo... Oh great, not again. I just lost the game. YEESH!!! I can't turn around without thinking of it!!! eh. Oh well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id33"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id34"&gt;hmmm... What else has happened... I have discovered, much to my embarresment, that I am GIRLY... seriously. I've been living with boys WAY too long. I should NOT be embarresed about this. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id35"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id36"&gt;so yeah. That'll be it for now, I guess. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id38"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id39"&gt;~~~Olivia&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id40"&gt;~~~~~~~Thinking of HIM.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id37"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-3379054356286291753?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/3379054356286291753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=3379054356286291753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/3379054356286291753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/3379054356286291753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/12/december.html' title='December'/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01952591088220521355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-3770065727980227772</id><published>2008-11-04T15:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-04T16:16:40.202-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="ms__id25"&gt;Hello folks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id21"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id17"&gt;~Yes, I know. I'm supposed to be busy writing my NaNoWriMo, not composing letters to an imaginary audience. But in the end, I decided, you know what? It's basically the same thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id26"&gt;~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id22"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id18"&gt;~So, yeah. NaNoWriMo was working out wonderfully on Saturday... got like... 3,400 or so words done, right? And then... well, I haven't written more than 200 words since then... so I really need to get busy. But you all know what friends are for? Right? yep. Procrastination. So... I've been busy procrastinating. Talking to You Folks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id28"&gt;~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id20"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id19"&gt;~Meh. Life is good. a little TOO good, if you ask me. I'm beginning to feel like I've had nothing but emotional chocolate all week. I've seriously been looking for insults. Trying to make someone ... this sounds really weird, doesn't it? But I seriously went to my brothers, and asked them to insult me. Of course they wouldn't do it. Annoying brats. Oh well, I love 'em. Anyways, back to the chocolate. I've emotionally had nothing but chocolate all week, and people need both chocolate and broccoli. Even though we'd much rather live on chocolate, we need to have broccoli too. Otherwise we get a stomache-ache. Well, ... this sounded a lot better when I thought about it. But anyways, yeah. I've said my philosophical piece of pie for the day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id27"&gt;~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id23"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id24"&gt;~~~OLIVIA~~~&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-3770065727980227772?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/3770065727980227772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=3770065727980227772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/3770065727980227772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/3770065727980227772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/11/hello-folks.html' title=''/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01952591088220521355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-848512432610170318</id><published>2008-10-15T15:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T16:22:01.914-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A post,</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="ms__id15" align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;A post, concerning the use of ellipses; philosophical dissertations on matters of joyous import; and a consistant use of footnotes to explain things that are already understood.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id43"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id44"&gt;I haven't written anything in a while... I'm storing up all my ideas for NaNoWriMo!!!!!!!!!! aNd TrUst Me.... I have a lot of ideas :) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id16"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id19"&gt;LIfe is SOOOOOO good... My soul flies high, so high... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id18"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id17"&gt;So... I've basically abandoned all the stories I've previously started... I use Ellipses a lot... Etc. Etc. Etc... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id20"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id23"&gt;Well, if I were to write a story this second... it would have to be about RAIN. Yep, RAIN. It hasn't rained in SOO long... well, maybe only a few weeks ago... but still! This is like, practically stream of consciousness, only not quite, I'd like to think I have better style than that... Imagine sitting outside, in the rain with... etc. etc. etc. (in other words, I don't feel like finishing that sentence, instead choosing to imagine the scene privately, as thuogh to speak/type the dream would render it impossible.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id22"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id21"&gt;You know, the endless LONGness, and really the overall random way this particular post is set up, has a lot to do with two things. 1. I'm reading a REALLY random book. That is.. well, it's written a lot like this blog, only in story form. 2. I've been listening to really happy songs. 3. Life is just too good, it makes me giddy. Makes me type too fast for me to know what I'm typing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id25"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id24"&gt;le sigh.* I haven't written any fiction works in a long time... I should write a one-shot. Something to match my mood... hmmm...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id28"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id30"&gt;WEll, I think I've run out of steam... can't think of anyelse to type... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id31"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id32"&gt;OH! Life is full of ups and downs. But no matter how low the downs go, it is the ups that are important. And, perhaps, without the ability to acheive these lows, we would never truly reach the highs, because the highs become higher when you can compare them to a low.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id45"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id46"&gt;Anyway, that's my philosophical thought for the day. Extreme emotions. But... yeah. Someone's bound to read this and than argue with me over it. Perhaps complain that I'm being cynical, though I don't see how this is in any way cynical... oh well. *yawns**&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id33"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id26"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Olivia~~~ who is utterly contented... or, would be if people, including herself, would stop gettting sick, and if it would rain...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id34"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;*translated as &lt;em&gt;sigh&lt;/em&gt; in french.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id35"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;**translated to mean, this is the end of the post... or, that the author of this post is very tired. Both of which are true, insofar as the main part of the post, at least. For as you can see, the footnotes do extend beyond that point, and are rather lengthy for a footnote.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id36"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;***inspite of the lack of anything else to footnote, the author accidentally miscounted. And, having already marked of a third footnote*** which, footnotes itself, she has chosen to end this post with an obscured choice of three letters, which she happens to think sit very nicely next to eachother. NWR.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id38"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;**** the author is now done footnoting*****&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id37"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;***** she thought.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id39"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;****** she's actually pretty fond of footnotes.*******&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id41"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;******* will this mania****, *****, ******, ******* ever end********, **???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id40"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;******** *yawn**&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id42"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-848512432610170318?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/848512432610170318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=848512432610170318' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/848512432610170318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/848512432610170318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/10/post.html' title='A post,'/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01952591088220521355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-1392744536513516056</id><published>2008-09-20T14:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T14:42:33.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Once upon a time.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="ms__id27"&gt;Once upon a time…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time, I fell in love.&lt;br /&gt;        It shouldn’t have happened. But it did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 years old. Summerschool. I took 10th grade PE.&lt;br /&gt;I found a group, friends. People to hang out with. Something I hadn’t had before. I had always been a bit of a loner.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id28" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Friend tally&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;5th: 1 ½ friends.&lt;br /&gt;6th: 0 friends.&lt;br /&gt;7th: ½ friends + 1 best friends&lt;br /&gt;8th: 2 friends + 1 best friends&lt;br /&gt;Summerschool: 8 friends&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id29"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See why I was surprised? Wouldn’t you be? All alone… and BOOM! You learn a secret. You learn how to talk to strangers.&lt;br /&gt;But we weren’t close friends. No secrets shared. I hung out, listened, talked. Ate lunch. And the first three weeks went by.&lt;br /&gt;But it was the last three weeks that mattered.&lt;br /&gt;On the 4th week, I noticed him.&lt;br /&gt;He didn’t have a group.&lt;br /&gt;And he didn’t seem to care.&lt;br /&gt;I found myself thinking about him constantly. True, he was handsome. But that wasn’t why. I simply found, that there was an elastic cord, and no matter what I thought, my thoughts would return to him.&lt;br /&gt;That aspect never changed. Whatever else happened, that elastic cord has yet to disappear.&lt;br /&gt;All I knew then, I wanted to know this kid.&lt;br /&gt;All I thought, I loved him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was PE. Every day, we walked. 1 hour out of 5, spent circling a track.&lt;br /&gt;Run 1 minute, walk 2.&lt;br /&gt;Run 2 minutes, walk 1.&lt;br /&gt;I seldom ran. He always did.&lt;br /&gt;I would time myself, slow down here, walk here. I would end up by him when we were supposed to walk.&lt;br /&gt;I was good at that.&lt;br /&gt;I walked next to him.&lt;br /&gt;        ‘Hi,’ I said, my voice light, cheery. My heart pounding, tense.&lt;br /&gt;        ‘Hi,’ he answered.&lt;br /&gt;A run around the track.&lt;br /&gt;        ‘How are you?’&lt;br /&gt;        ‘Good.’ He answered. ‘you?’&lt;br /&gt;        ‘fine.’ It was companiable. The elastic cord become tangible. I felt the tie. The tie linking me to him.&lt;br /&gt;        Each day we talked more.&lt;br /&gt;        Once, afraid I was becoming too much in love with someone who might not respect my views, I said ‘There’s two things I want you to know.’&lt;br /&gt;        ‘What?’ he asked.&lt;br /&gt;        ‘I’m a Christian.’&lt;br /&gt;        ‘So’m I’&lt;br /&gt;        My heart relieved, then prepared. The next thing was harder. I don’t know why. But it was. ‘I like to read, a lot.’ Lot’s of people didn’t like to read. And I read constantly.&lt;br /&gt;        ‘So do I. Have you read…’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every game, I maneuvered. I manipulated. I was on his team. And if I wasn’t? Then my team played against him. And I played well. Better than I had ever played before or since.&lt;br /&gt;It became, that when I saw him, I would think to myself. I love him. And I wanted him to love me. I thought to myself. Anything he asked.&lt;br /&gt;He ate lunch where we did. You couldn’t truly say that he ate lunch With us, but he ate lunch by us. He hadn’t before. I don’t know where he had been before, but it was somewhere else.One day, he bought himself a Slurpee. I saw it. The next day, he bought me one.&lt;br /&gt;After lunch, we all went to the gym. He would start a game of Frisbee with some of the guys. I would make myself part of the game. Gradually, it was no longer him, me, and someone else playing, but just him and me.&lt;br /&gt;We through the Frisbee backwards, upside down, two at once. Found new ways. Laughed. Talked some, but not much. Had fun. Those were some of the best times of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know if he ever felt anything for me. But I did for him.&lt;br /&gt;I think I still do. I’m half afraid, that it’s just a memory. That the feeling disappeared… I don’t think it did. But I am getting ahead of myself. I did love him.&lt;br /&gt;        But I was scared. Scared that he wouldn’t like me back. Once, a girl asked if he was my boyfriend. In that instant, my heart froze. I wanted him to be my boyfriend ! I wanted to be his girl friend ! But he was there, and I didn’t know the answer. So I blushed scarlet, and silently wished that girl a painful death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was so much more. So many memories.&lt;br /&gt;Of basketball, shooting hoops. Your turn, my turn. What’s your favorite color? Agh. I missed ! You throw it to me. I throw a hoop, make it, throw it back.&lt;br /&gt;I swear, I haven’t managed to make a hoop since. Well… practically. Maybe 2 baskets. But for 2 years? That’s a pretty sad track record.&lt;br /&gt;Memories of getting hit in the head. I got hit in the head more times in those six weeks then I ever had before. A soccer-ball. A football coming out of no-where.&lt;br /&gt;Once, we played the most hectic soccer game ever. 5 balls. I got battered. Somehow, they were all aimed at my head. I almost had a nervous breakdown. I quit. I backed out of the game, became goalie. (there were ten goalies). I wanted to cry.&lt;br /&gt;        But he was there. I tried to hide it. Laugh it off.&lt;br /&gt;        I have a problem with that. With trying to seem strong. When all I needed, no, all I wanted, was a set of strong arms to wrap me up.&lt;br /&gt;        I wish… *sigh… * Is now too late for wishes?&lt;br /&gt;        Summerschool ended. He gave me his phone number. I promised to call, give him mine. It isn’t that I didn’t trust him. It’s that my parents are protective, I was afraid they wouldn’t let us talk. And I had to live with them for at least another four years.&lt;br /&gt;        I knew I wasn’t allowed a boyfriend. But I could talk to him on the phone, surely! The ruse was set in my mind. I’d tell my parents he was a friend I’d made, and they wouldn’t mind so much.&lt;br /&gt;        But my mom said that I shouldn’t be the one to call him so much. That it would seem to forward, too eager. So… I called him. But I let him call after that. Mistake numero uno. Premier. Ichi-sai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I truly wanted to be with him. I did. But my parents teasing over our phone conversations wore me down. And we didn’t see eachother for a while.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we decided to meet at the library. Every Saturday my family went to the library, surely this would work! He came, his parents came. My mom came. I came. Our parents agreed. We could be friends, but we were to young to be anything more. My mom was happy with that. Very happy. I was fourteen, and he was a year older than me!&lt;br /&gt;We hung out, talked, had fun.&lt;br /&gt;We met at the library four times.&lt;br /&gt;On the second, it was Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;I made him a card.&lt;br /&gt;He bought me a gift-card to Barnes and nobles. It fell behind a bookcase. Never seen again.&lt;br /&gt;I still loved him. But by the third time, I was no longer so sure. He was calling less often. And I was becoming more distant. School was easier. There were attractive boys there. And one was beginning to catch my attention.&lt;br /&gt;By the fourth and last time that we saw eachother, I no longer knew that I loved him. I was distracted.&lt;br /&gt;We hugged twice that day. But I was paying too much attention to the fact that my mom was there to care. I was trying to keep a low-profile. And I had begun to separate my feelings. I hardly returned the hug at all.&lt;br /&gt;        That’s one thing I regret. One real thing I regret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That summer, he never called. I went to Japan. Wanted to talk to him. Was so happy to have gone. I was liking him again. I wanted to talk to him so badly, I even called. No one answered, and coward that I’ve always been. I left no message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School started. He called. Said let’s hang out more this year. I wanted that. He was gonna call. We were gonna hang out Friday.&lt;br /&gt;He didn’t call.&lt;br /&gt;Not till later,&lt;br /&gt;The next time I remember talking to him, though I’m sure he must have called between then, was in October.&lt;br /&gt;I was busy finishing my math homework. He called. I listened mostly.&lt;br /&gt;Said I was sorry I wasn’t talking so much, but I was finishing my math-homework. It was early enough in the year that I was still doing my math homework. I thought it was nothing, There were plenty of times that he had been on the computer while we talked. He said OK. Sorry, but he had to go now. Call back later, Bye. The conversation ended. I had only one problem left. I felt somehow, I knew, that it was my fault he had hung up. But I didn’t know…&lt;br /&gt;He never called back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited. By spring my life had changed so much. New church, new friends. My feelings for him felt a life-time away. I pretended they hadn’t been real. If someone asked, then I said that there had once been a boy who thought I was his girlfriend. It was partially true. Though he had called me his girlfriend a few times, I had never called him my boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;There was a boy in my English class. Asian. Over-achiever. Not the prettiest face, but neither was he badly shaped.&lt;br /&gt;I had a crush on him. But it died. I tried to feed it. But it was dead. Swiftly, quicker than it started, it was gone.&lt;br /&gt;And I kept Nick locked in a box in my heart. Had I told you that? The boy I fell in love with? His name was Nick. Nick R. Never found out what his last name was. But I couldn’t keep it locked up forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On may 30th. Friday. Youth group. Car ride home. Charrise talked about her boy-friend. They had gotten back together. He was her boyfriend. And she was his girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;I had once had a boyfriend. He had called me his girlfriend. And he had never broken up with me. He just STOPPED CALLING.&lt;br /&gt;Pained seared through my heart, and my heart finally realized what had happened to it. My heart broke. And I remembered. I hadn’t been just a silly girl! I had been old enough. Old enough to fall in love for real. My head fell against the window. But I did not cry. My eyes watered. I wanted nothing but to cry. But there were people there, and my dad was there. He was dropping everyone off. I promised myself. When I got home, I could go to my room, lie down, and cry myself to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, my thoughts raged.&lt;br /&gt;I had once had a boyfriend!&lt;br /&gt;I had loved him!&lt;br /&gt;He had called me his girlfriend!&lt;br /&gt;We had Hugged! Twice!&lt;br /&gt;But… but he had stopped calling.&lt;br /&gt;He had never broken up with me. He just abandoned me.&lt;br /&gt;I was broken. And I knew it.&lt;br /&gt;I debated with myself. Over whether to call him.&lt;br /&gt;I SHOULDN’T! It’d hurt too much. But one thing had become my mantra. One thing with which to stare at the ceiling and chant to myself while I tried to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finality! Finality!&lt;br /&gt;Finality…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I wanted was finality. I wanted my death to be final when it happened. No wondering if I would survive! I wanted my boyfriend to be final if he left me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I wanted was finality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next day. I called his cell. No such number existed.&lt;br /&gt;I took a deep ragged breath and got back to the computer. Something to make me forgot for a second. I played Flash Element TD. Most thinking mindless game ever invented. Set up a cannon. Watch the goblins get shot down. Another. And again. I finished the game.&lt;br /&gt;I was no longer going to cry the way I almost had Friday night. I was a little better. Rather then feeling broken, my heart felt as though it had been through a wringer. I picked up my cell and stared at it.&lt;br /&gt;Slowly I dialed the last number I had. The number he had written on that torn piece of paper two summers before. His home phone. I half-hoped, half-feared that he had moved. That it was no longer a valid number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It rang.&lt;br /&gt;The answering machine picked up.&lt;br /&gt;        I hung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer had been generic. No last name given. No way to know if it was his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides. He was a handsome man. He was a junior now. Almost a senior! He probably had a girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;In which case he ought to have the decency to at least break up with me after all these years!&lt;br /&gt;I called again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It rang.&lt;br /&gt;The answering machine picked up.&lt;br /&gt;        ‘hello, this is Olivia’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn’t finish. I hung up.&lt;br /&gt;I didn’t know what to say! My power relied on the written word, not on the spoken. My pencil was braver than my voice.&lt;br /&gt;His parents would hear this message.&lt;br /&gt;And if he called back, as I wanted him too, then I didn’t want him to call my home-phone.&lt;br /&gt;I knew what I would do. I would give him my cell. I don’t know why I hadn’t given him my cell number when I first got it.&lt;br /&gt;I wrote it down. What I would say.&lt;br /&gt;Something simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone rang.&lt;br /&gt;The machine picked up.&lt;br /&gt;        ‘Hello, this is Olivia. If Nick could please call me at *******. I want to ask him something. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart pounded. It was in his hands now. He would call. And I would ask… What would I ask? I didn’t know.&lt;br /&gt;Please break up with me? I only half wanted that.&lt;br /&gt;Please be my boyfriend again? That was too begging. I still had my pride.&lt;br /&gt;Please. Tell me. Did you like me? Why didn’t you call back? Do you have a girlfriend?&lt;br /&gt;In the end, I was as likely to ask those as What’s your favorite color?&lt;br /&gt;What I wanted was for him to choose. For him to tell me.&lt;br /&gt;Take me, or leave me. But never leave me hanging.&lt;br /&gt;I took a deep breath. It was in his hands now. If he called… I would decide then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Sunday. After church. In a strange burst of creativity, I was sewing. Cutting up and putting back together an old pair of pants.&lt;br /&gt;The phone rang. My cell. I looked at the number.&lt;br /&gt;        It was him. The number I had called so many times the night before. It was him.&lt;br /&gt;        I couldn’t answer in time. Couldn’t make myself press the green button.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It rang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10, 15 minutes later. I took the phone to the garage.&lt;br /&gt;I sat down.&lt;br /&gt;I listened to his message.&lt;br /&gt;No, I listened to his voice. It was a good voice. That faint hint of a southern drawl, though he claimed to be native Californian.&lt;br /&gt;I played it again, and again.&lt;br /&gt;He left a number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to call him! But I told myself I didn’t have enough time. My parents would wake up from their nap soon.&lt;br /&gt;        He called again that week. But I wasn’t around to hear my phone that time.&lt;br /&gt;I called the week after school got out. The next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It rang.&lt;br /&gt;He answered.&lt;br /&gt;He had friends over, but asked why I had called. What I wanted to ask.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if he had been alone… If no one had been there.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe then I could have said.&lt;br /&gt;        I said I had forgotten.&lt;br /&gt;I lied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to ask him! I wanted to ask him to make a choice.&lt;br /&gt;Break up with me, or be my boyfriend. For real this time. I would be a real girlfriend if we tried again. But I didn’t. He said he’d call me back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That weekend. My cousins graduation party. All the family. My many aunts and uncles. Whose teasing I would be able to stand even less then my parents.&lt;br /&gt;He called. Twice. I said that I was with people. Couldn’t talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home. Couldn’t understand him over the freeway. Said I would call back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents found the note where I had written for myself what I wanted to ask. My dad found it. He read it.&lt;br /&gt;He read it… I had written it, so that when I called, I wouldn’t be able to say that I had forgotten what I wanted to ask.&lt;br /&gt;He found it, read it. Sat down with me.&lt;br /&gt;Had a talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They could see I was upset. Knew I had been hurt.&lt;br /&gt;They layed down the law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have a friend that was a boy. We could hang out. At his house. At mine. With parents present. We could go to eachothers youth group.&lt;br /&gt;We could not date. I could not call him my boyfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was prepared to put up this false front for them. I had done it before. And who was to say that he would choose me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks later. Saturday. 1:30. I finally called.&lt;br /&gt;He was just waking up. We talked for an hour. Random stuff.&lt;br /&gt;I keep telling myself that I had no lead for the question. I could not ask it of him.&lt;br /&gt;But that was a beautiful conversation.&lt;br /&gt;He needed breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;He said let him call back.&lt;br /&gt;I waited.&lt;br /&gt;And waited.&lt;br /&gt;He never called.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 weeks later. Camp. I made friends. I was happy. I tried to forget that he hadn’t called back. Again.&lt;br /&gt;I got home. Checked my messaged.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had an exchange student from Japan. Munehiro.&lt;br /&gt;Once again. I could distract myself.&lt;br /&gt;I crushed hard. He was handsome. And good. His English was amazing, considering my struggles with his language.&lt;br /&gt;It was nice.&lt;br /&gt;But it wasn’t quite real.&lt;br /&gt;We became friends. He left. We emailed. Until school started. He didn’t email after that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told myself, and my friends, that I was over Nick.&lt;br /&gt;That my heart no longer screamed for him.&lt;br /&gt;I believed myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to be over him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then. A month into school.&lt;br /&gt;I looked at my heart. I don’t know what set it off!&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know why my heart broke again!&lt;br /&gt;I realized something. I was missing something.&lt;br /&gt;I was missing a piece of my heart.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked back at all the places where I might have lost it, and knew.&lt;br /&gt;I had given it to Nick. And I still loved him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A person can’t function without their whole heart, They can’t live. Can’t love. Finality… Finality… Finality..&lt;br /&gt;I had an excuse for my sad expression that day. I kid I had never met, never known, never seen. A kid who wasn’t real to me. Had shot himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if Nick saw the news that night and thought, Olivia goes to that school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I knew what I would do. Somehow, I had finally realized. I would go home. I would write it down.&lt;br /&gt;The whole story. Beginning to end. No facts omitted. Only truth told.&lt;br /&gt;I would post it online.&lt;br /&gt;And I would have him read it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, I’m not good at saying things outloud. It’s why I love the computer. I love to write.&lt;br /&gt;In words lie my power, but printed words, not spoken. I can write anything! I can tell the truth. I find it hard to lie. It’s much too final. And I like Final.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I went home that day, went to my room. Took out a pad of paper. And commenced writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have I mentioned? I was a coward. Took me 3 hours to write it. Took me a week to start typing it. I just finished typing it now. I hope that I actually post it today. I want to call him tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Just so you know. It’s the 20th of September. 2008, though hopefully I wouldn’t wait till next year. It’s Saturday. 1:55.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope, that when I call him. He doesn’t answer. A message would be easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone rings.&lt;br /&gt;The answering machine picks up.&lt;br /&gt;    ‘Hello, this is Olivia. Nick, please go to the Author’s Rant Blog and read my piece. It's called Once Upon A time. Call me with the answers. Please.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question I’m asking? Well. You’ve read the story. Every question up there. What do I want the answers to be? I don’t know.&lt;br /&gt;I want him back. But I don’t want him to break my heart again. Once was enough. I want us to be together again. I want to do better than last time. But really? I’m just confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trouble is. I still love him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id22"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="ms__id21"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Courier New;"&gt;-Olivia. for whom, this is her first rant. And for whom, this is probably the longest thing she has ever written. She's half-afraid to find out how many words it has. Well... 3,446... maybe it isn't quite as bad as she feared. She wants to say, that everything on here is the truth. She also wants to say sorry to her friend, for posting such a long item. And that it is amazingly hard to press Publish Post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-1392744536513516056?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/1392744536513516056/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=1392744536513516056' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/1392744536513516056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/1392744536513516056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/09/once-upon-time.html' title='Once upon a time.'/><author><name>Olivia</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01952591088220521355</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-3653117931003253490</id><published>2008-09-20T14:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T14:44:12.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>September?</title><content type='html'>Wow... nothing posted in August. How strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well anyways, I've been doing all right with writing. TPW is interesting. Of chapter 8 I've now scratched out about the last... 7 (TYPED!) pages and am rewriting them cause they're horrible I tell you. I hate them hate them hate them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand I've been writing short stories quite a bit. Right now I'm at a grand total of... SIX! wootwoot. They're all very random and are cute, at least I think so. the only one that's not romance would be 'What One Can Say to Oneself'. Unless you count Grace complimenting the taxi drver and yelling at me :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly I'm falling back on reading... just never am in the mood for it. But I do plan to get back into it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, you should also know that I'm gonna gain a study period! Yep, at least hopefully I will. Hopefully I can write a lot then, or just do homework. Whatever works!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, I leave the rest to Olivia's first post, which is either above or below this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-NO LONGER THE ONLY ONE WHO POSTS ON THIS BLOG!!! :)))))))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-3653117931003253490?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/3653117931003253490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=3653117931003253490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/3653117931003253490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/3653117931003253490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/09/september.html' title='September?'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-7780570644089491904</id><published>2008-07-09T18:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T18:10:02.797-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hume Hume Hume!!</title><content type='html'>Well... this author is off to the wonderful land of Hume Lake! It's a Christain camp about 3-4 hours from where I live. I don't know if I'll get any writing done up there, or if I'll have time too.. I enjoy just being at hume way too much &gt;.&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that writing's allright. It's hard to keep going (on ToN) cause the situation just seems plain awkward to the reader cause they have NO IDEA what is going on with this switch of pov.... I need to figure out a way to clue them in, then the scene I'm struggling to write &lt;em&gt;should&lt;/em&gt; work out! But we'll see how well it goes.. here's to hoping it goes all right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LoaP hasn't been touched much... but I'm planning on jotting down a short story (aka oneshot!) to hopefully kill some of the plot bunnies that're having a party in my head -_-. So...... we'll hopefully see that soon... other than that summer consists of: World History, Cousins, and Property that's been dubbed "Eagle Camp". I'm having a hard time getting use to the name &gt;.&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways.... I think that's all. My social life is pretty calm and I feel secluded O.O hopefully that'll go away soon... cause I'm not that secluded. Hope y'alls summer is going welll!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The only person who posts here T__________T&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-7780570644089491904?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/7780570644089491904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=7780570644089491904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7780570644089491904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7780570644089491904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/07/hume-hume-hume.html' title='Hume Hume Hume!!'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-3996037867963597180</id><published>2008-06-11T00:06:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-11T00:24:32.435-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer!!</title><content type='html'>Well, summer has arrived for those of us in the northern hemisphere of this planet we call earth. Sadly enough, for me it does not mean the end of all things school. You see, they came up with this brilliant thing where when you switch schools, you get gipped out of a class! And of course that class happens to be World History, so I'm stuck doing it alllllll summer long, although not in summer school (thank the Lord), but in Independent Study summer school. Which basically means I do all the work without having to go to school... think of it as 1-subject home school, perhaps? Well anyways, this is extremely boring stuff and kinda annoying to have to do... but anything I write on binder paper or on a wierd note-taking SQ3R worksheets (that confuse me to death... but I have to complete anyways) I can use them on the "test". Do you realize it's been a whole year since I could use notes on a test??? My entire 10th grade year, not one of my teachers has allowed note-usage on tests... and now I get to use a strange amount of excess notes on these "tests".... odd isn't it??? Or is this how most highschools are and I'm just wierd casue of IB???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, this all affects my writing habits. For in the summer I write really well (in truth any time of the year-- but this only occurs in summertime) when I can be home alone and blast music and write. See the problem with night-writing is that there's two parents sleeping up the stairs who can hear a lot of what I do (which is very annoying, in case you didn't understand). Either way, I'm doing my IS (independent study-- not international studies, you bunch of wierd Mira Loma-program-obsessed-people!!!) during the prime alone-writing-time... so there goes all of that possiblity... *sighs* it's very annoying to have that taken away from me, but hopefully I'll find some time to finish editing chapters 5 &amp;amp; 6 (ToN) so that I can officially post them and really delve into chapter 7... which I so much want to do! But... for now we're stuck with what I got... so.. yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poems are actually going nicely... they're not too often, but they're not dead either, so I'm very happy about that. LoaP is going... interestingly well... I suppose. Chapter 3 came to a dead halt when it got wayyyy too personal for my own comfort (at the time). It's not supposed to be a fictional biography of my life... and it's almost turning into that... so... I'll have to go reassess some of my ideas and sort it out into the workable, loveable story I started out with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's all I have to say. I've been playing a lot of video games lately, which doesn't help writing... and reading is hard to do on my own time.. instead of school time... but I'm sure I'll figure it out! Good luck to you fellow Authors... if you're out there.... "Hello!!" *echo* .... *crickets chirp* well... I guess not. Hope your summer is going well... myself? (and I suppose anyone who evenutally might randomly read this...).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-3996037867963597180?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/3996037867963597180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=3996037867963597180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/3996037867963597180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/3996037867963597180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/06/summer.html' title='Summer!!'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-6737177968167837106</id><published>2008-05-19T18:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-19T19:11:32.436-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in, life out</title><content type='html'>Well, so I finally have come to term with the fact that it wont be very soon until I get chatper 6 done, and then even forever until I get to Devan's pov. Cause I just can't think of anything. I had a friend who suggested working on LOAP but I decided against it cause I really need to focus on the last 13 days of school instead of my writing cause I'm really worried I might get a B in two of my classes now, the two that I really can't have a B in Chem and French cause if I get a B in those two classes I'll feel like I've just failed at life cause those are the ones I excel in, or at least the areas, you know? AT least I don't like the teacher in French, you know? Cause if I liked him in there the I would feel even worse, but the again I feel the same way with Mr. Hill cause I really like him and I don't want him thinking the best I can do is a B in his class esspecially since I might have him next year, of course I'll have my french teacher next  year as well, but you know what, he really likes me cause I acutually pay attention in his class so I'm wondering whether that really matters?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, if anybody does dare to read this which I'd be surprised at cause I know that nobody has this on anything and none of you probably remember it's here so I'm really just talking to myself. Either way, who knows when I'll get another chapter written? I could go try... but I think nothing'll come of it cause I don't know what I want to do with it anymore. I mean, I know the direction I want it to go in, but like this part? totally not thought of, and I don't know how to make it sound right. I could get rid of it, but it's very useful and kinda needed to transistion to Devan's POV, I think... perhaps I should try another way? well, wich me luck cause I've just talked myself into trying it. woooo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-6737177968167837106?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/6737177968167837106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=6737177968167837106' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/6737177968167837106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/6737177968167837106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/05/life-in-life-out.html' title='Life in, life out'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-5336588441630043977</id><published>2008-04-23T21:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T21:41:55.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Drama, drama, drama, drama!!!</title><content type='html'>It's everywhere, everyone's life is filled with it. Except those of us special few who just deal with &lt;em&gt;other &lt;/em&gt;people's drama cause we get bored with our own lives so we start something we didn't want to start and go on about something even we might not be able to handle or even use our own advice on, or we'd hate ourselves for doing what we're saying, but we do it anyways, cause we know it's the best thing to do. I realize this has little to do with writing, but no body reads this, and it's a place where I can rant and rant on about what it is that's bugging the heck out of me. And possibly oh so possibly get some responses that I highly doubt I'll get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause some people are having that normal teenage drama, you know, that romantic fluffy stuff that messes with every one's lives involved. Then other people are dealing with emotional drama, while still others are dealing with the future drama. You know, all the what-ifs and crazy ideas and awkwardness. And then I'm supposed to be writing my story, cause that's what I want to do, but all I can think about is this or that and I become obsessed with helping these people. And when they don't need my help any more, or never even needed it I recede back to my story where the drama is contained, controlled, and only there when I want it to be. But here and now it everywhere, like somebody decided to come see how my life was going, saw it was getting simpler, went and kicked something and started that whole domino effect that makes everything change. At least that's what I think happened, cause that's the way it seems!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'll be thinking about all this drama and hopefully get it all dealt with. But you know what I'm oging to do now? Remove myself from this drama and go email some people hI haven't heard from in months that I'm dying to hear from. And perhaps help them with &lt;em&gt;their&lt;/em&gt; drama. whoppeee!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-5336588441630043977?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/5336588441630043977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=5336588441630043977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/5336588441630043977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/5336588441630043977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/04/drama-drama-drama-drama.html' title='Drama, drama, drama, drama!!!'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-8377390989603629721</id><published>2008-04-13T21:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T22:02:03.371-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What was that?!</title><content type='html'>So I discovered that weekends pass by really quickly. And that we never get all of what we want to get done in them, done. Just not something that happens. I can't even finish a book, that's how caught up I am in not doing the same thing for over an hour. I have trouble sitting down and watching TV for longer than an hour anymore... unless I'm doing a quizzler or my latch hook. I get jumpy, mostly cause I don't feel like I'm doing something usefull.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've discovered that I feel like I have to justify time. And I don't. Not to anyone but me and God. But of course, that's the problem. Cause if I can't justify it then I should stop doing it, right? Like this, I'm justifying this because it helps me debrief from a period of time and focus back on what's important. My writing... I've got chapter 6 under way. *sighs* and it's going... and going... and yeah. Parts of it I wonder how I can write, but I love them all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay for reflections though. I love Mexico still and I wanna go back. Too bad I can't for another year. And I want my pinky ring back, you stupid floor that ate it. I know it's there somewhere, but my bedroom's been torn apart twice now, once by me and once by my parents. And yeah, not anywhere. Whoooo... time to go sleep I suppose.... thanks for reading ;P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-8377390989603629721?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/8377390989603629721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=8377390989603629721' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/8377390989603629721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/8377390989603629721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-was-that.html' title='What was that?!'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-5839454288382648932</id><published>2008-03-29T20:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T20:28:20.125-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home... where art thou?</title><content type='html'>Today's idea of home is so messed up. I mean, really though, they say home is where the heart is, so doesn't that mean it's with somebody that you love? And if that's so, how do you call where you live your home? Meh, but that's all beside the point. Here's the real problem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop writing poems! I churned out a short story yesterday, but I mean, c'mon! Why can't I write ToN? Evey time I pull it up, I end up opening up my poems and writing in there! Or I'm in school and I try to write some stuff, and i end up scrapping it and writing a poem instead! or 7! I haven't posted any of them yet, but never fear.... they shall when I finally decide to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that life is hectic, but let's leave that alone cause I'm tired of thinking about it. Maybe that's why I'm so tired, I've been thinking about it all so much. Meh.. I'll figure something out with ToN soon... hopefully....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-5839454288382648932?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/5839454288382648932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=5839454288382648932' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/5839454288382648932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/5839454288382648932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/03/home-where-art-thou.html' title='Home... where art thou?'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-7731790099745232708</id><published>2008-03-09T16:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-09T16:17:31.220-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yet another...</title><content type='html'>I have the fullest week ahead of me, it ain't funny. Not only do I have friday to miss for Mexico, I also am missing a lot of my other classes throughout the week in order to do other things the school wants me to do. I have make-up assignments coming out of my ears, a book to read, essay to write, timeline to create, book to write, don't mind me if I just explode.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet, admist all this work I have to do, I'm realizing that all I want to do is to go to Mexico. Why? Cause I can't do anything there, NOTHING. It's impossible to do my homework, there's no way I'd take anything for school down there, I'd proabably lose it. So, I'm sitting here, contemplating how to do my outline for said essay, and writing this. The only thing I can do down in Mexico that I can take back with me (that doesn't have to do with the body mind and spirit that is) is my writing. Lately I've been having trouble focusing, so much is going on around me. But I hope that this week I can finsih chapter five of ToN, and then next week get outa Sage's POV. How long that'll take is something I've yet to answer, but here it goes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LoaP... I satarted to write in again, but since I've got so much romance in ToN, I'm losing the need for it. I'm thinking of putting it on hiatus and taking the Observer back out again as my back up plan, but until I need said back up plan, I won't worry about it. The only thing is is that I'm wary of letting people see the Observer, cause it's kinda jumpy and sporatic. So... let's just say ToN is the only official workage in the writing area right now, besides my essay, that I'm going to go write right now!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-7731790099745232708?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/7731790099745232708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=7731790099745232708' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7731790099745232708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7731790099745232708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/03/yet-another.html' title='Yet another...'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-4483643261616079439</id><published>2008-03-02T21:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-02T21:26:45.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing, Mexico, and Sleep Deprivation (dangerous combo...)</title><content type='html'>Yeah, I so didn't get chapter 5 done. I would say it's close to halfway, maybe a little over it, but I have no idea. Things seem to enjoy dragging themselves out, so I could be completely wrong. I did notice though, that having somebody edit it, and then going over the edits for days on end, seems to make me keep up with writing, cause it's always fresh in my mind. Yet, I've also found that talking to people, and reading certainly take away from a creative drive, and I mean by a lot. Doing something that isn't using that burst of ideas litterally is very draining, of it, as well as me in general, cause all I wanna think about is writing, yet I have to think about English, or Math, or Chem, or French, etc. And it ends up driving me nuts. So don't be surprised if I start to suddenly disappear a lot more than I used to on Friday's and such, I've decided I need time to work upon my story as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get an iPod yesterday, early for my 16th birthday. It's rather fun to play around with, and it shall be very useful on the way down to Mexico, as well as going back up. Now for those of who are going, "Wait.. Mexico? Since when are you going to Mexico??" Well, basically it's a mission trip down to Ensenada. If that's spelled right, go me. Anyways, it's during spring break, so yes, I have to give that week of break up. Not only that, I have to miss the friday before so that I can ride the bus down to San Diego, for Saturday we go into Mexico and get settled. Sunday we go to our respective churches, Monday starts the official VBS part, we have 4 whole days there, friday we pack up, and head all the way home, getting there at about.. ohh 12am-2am. And that's not including the 20 minute drive home. So... that week I won't be doing much more than sleeping, eating, going to the bathroom, and focusing on the haze of spanish words whirling around me at the site. They do speak english at base camp, but I mean, you're in MEXICO they still call the bathroom a banyo(with the accent, yes) and say Hola all the time, and they wake us up with blasting music... and the place where breakfast is is up this insanely steep and huge hill that you could seriously injure yourself if you fell down, and feels like you could at any moment. Oh! And the tacos... I love La Sierra, best tacos ever. Completely authentic, and it even passes Azusa's regulations to allow us to "officially" eat there. Not that we didn't before the approved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yeah. That's where I finish and probably wander off to do sleep. Good luck you other authors...!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-4483643261616079439?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/4483643261616079439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=4483643261616079439' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/4483643261616079439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/4483643261616079439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/03/writing-mexico-and-sleep-deprivation.html' title='Writing, Mexico, and Sleep Deprivation (dangerous combo...)'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-7816034411992871376</id><published>2008-02-19T14:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-19T14:23:57.559-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Woot!</title><content type='html'>I got another chapter up, I got another chapter up, and I'm almost done with the next one!!! I'm just a little excited, can't you tell? Chapter four is one I particullarly love, specially since I know the end of the old story and am turning that into a nice starting point, though they have nothing to do with starting and ending! Isn't that confusing to anyone's mind but my own? Good for you if it ain't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, seeing as how I have a beautiful week off for who knows why, (president's week? what the...?) I get to have several hours of homework piled upon me! Not only do I have a math paper (again, what the heck?!) 40 pages to read in history, but I also have a timeline to research for about the migrant workers of the dustbowl in the 1930s in the US of A! And that last one IS MY OWN FREAKIN' CHOICE!!! This school is a conspiracy to make us want to work. I'm telling you, it is! So... chapter 4... here's hopin' I'll finish you in the wee hours of the night tonight... and here's hopin' that I can take the history out... cause I don't feel like doing English or Math... I'd rather read about world war two causes.. yay violence! (I think I've been watching too much MythBusters, Law and Order, and have too many teachers that like to talk of how much violence there was in the past *cough*historyMr.Thomoson*cough*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... since it's a rant, I said I can rant about anything, so I'll continue with this. How come none of you other Author's join me in ranting? How come nobody even said anything to me? Or wait... none of you noticed I posted anything did you? Hummmm... I might have to fix that.  And I'm contemplating adding more lively people to this bunch... Nisha! Oh my... she's not here... And do remember my fellow ranters, you can invite people (if you wanna of course) to join, writer friends are all welcome... I'm just trying to have a little bit of fun! Here goes something that'll never go down in History! (he.. heh... you get it? not going down in history.... reading about history... yes? am I too hyped up?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-7816034411992871376?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/7816034411992871376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=7816034411992871376' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7816034411992871376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7816034411992871376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/02/woot.html' title='Woot!'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-4051594272425222456</id><published>2008-01-28T17:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T17:16:33.632-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh.... My....</title><content type='html'>I'm actually writing in Tales of Nalti again! Yay! In case word didn't reach some of you, I had stopped because winter break was extremely busy, and then I had an epistolary novel to write (a novel comprised of letters, postcards, etc) for my english class. I might post it, but as I wrote on DeviantArt, I highly doubt it. It seems to lack something when I write it on the computer. I handwrote each note, postcard, and letter, and doing so took me forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I hope to have the next ToN chapter up by the end of the week, and then I will definitely be starting on my alternate weeks with LoaP (Love of a Player for those who don't know what I'm talking about....) hopefully getting one chapter up a story every other week. But of course, that's my projected rate. School (sadly) takes presedence, and I've got some huge projects coming up. As soon as they end, they begin anew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to see the rest of you posting stuff, cause if I remember correctly, it's been a while since I've seen anything from any of you. (posting as in stories... and on here!) Hopefully commenting on here doesn't take as long as some people seem to think writing an email does :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-4051594272425222456?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/4051594272425222456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=4051594272425222456' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/4051594272425222456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/4051594272425222456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2008/01/oh-my.html' title='Oh.... My....'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-8848054042413129620</id><published>2007-12-09T14:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T15:14:32.057-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Plot Bunny? Perhaps...</title><content type='html'>I'm new here, so... hi. :-D This blog's basic use is ranting, isn't it? So, rant I go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Plot Bunny: an evil cute fluffy rabbit-like creature lodged into an author's brain and my or may not help you in certain situations.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, for me, it doesn't help; actually, in most cases, it dislikes me. A lot. Thus would be the reason for Holly's constant complaining of me deleting my entries over and over and over and then reposting them and ending up deleting them again anyway... Wow, that was a long sentence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such as now: I have four so-called stories posted up on FictionPress, all of which are over 5,000 words (save for one I recently started) and all of which are most likely saved three billion and ahalf times over. In actuality, I have about seven (going on eight) stories I'm supposedly working on, one of which I haven't touched in half a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you solve this? If you want that answer, don't look at me; I'm trying to solve it myself, obviously...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dislike calling this illness (yes, &lt;em&gt;illness&lt;/em&gt;) the dreaded Plot Bunny. I prefer to call it&lt;em&gt; The Skipper&lt;/em&gt;. Why? Well, it all started when... Actually, it's bevcause I &lt;em&gt;skip&lt;/em&gt; over too many important details when this illness comes over me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could also call it &lt;em&gt;The Odd-essy&lt;/em&gt; just to make my English teacher &lt;em&gt;(who grades on where you put commas; Heaven forbid you put a comma in when someone's talking and taking a breath...)&lt;/em&gt; daft.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She was the first teacher to ever mistake me for a guy. And three months ago I thought only Senior girls thought I was male... Ah, well. Life flows along a shallow river, so I suppose no good comes from it if there's a boulder in the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting myself on track again, I'm going to summarize what I had siad above: Plot Bunnies &lt;em&gt;(or Skippers) &lt;/em&gt;can be a bad thing. Now, if you're not me: you're stuck on an idea and you're in the shower and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;POOF!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; there's your new idea and you can't wiat to get out of the shower to write it down before you lose it... that's a good thing, I'd think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or not, per se, if you're like me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-8848054042413129620?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/8848054042413129620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=8848054042413129620' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/8848054042413129620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/8848054042413129620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2007/12/plot-bunny-perhaps.html' title='The Plot Bunny? Perhaps...'/><author><name>Lise Alexandria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15821174961836596150</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-7862940525699161420</id><published>2007-12-09T14:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-09T14:22:40.622-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tales of Rewriting</title><content type='html'>Some people may not understand what the point of a rewrite is, or why I'm even doing it. And when I'm at the brink of beginning chapter 2 of it, and I just edited chapter 1, I may question it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's what I think: A re-write is for the author to benefit the reader. I personally think ToN just sucked, and I had grown to hate looking at what I had written &lt;em&gt;nearly three years ago.&lt;/em&gt; Why? cause I was a horrible writer then, that's why! My style has changed, my characters flip flopped personalities, and it just wasn't going together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why am I rewriting it if I hate it? Because I still love the plot. I still love my idea. I still love my characters to no end, and I believe this is the only way to save their story. I mean, so far, so good, right? And so what if it's all ready not matching up with the timeline of the last story? I thought it moved to fast, so I'm allowed to slow it down this time, aren't I? And I'm allowed to get new chapter names! In fact, I can make Dev/e/a/y/i/n a girly person and take a poll on what I want to switch it too! I mean! Look at my poll! There's one for the 'a' one for the 'i' and 7 for the 'y'! My personally favorite? the 'a'! The one I chose before was to fit a tomboy, the in between, I thought was the 'e'! and obviously it doesn't fit now if Lise is thinking it's a boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's my reasoning. You're stuck at a story. Finished it, whatever. And dead tired of working with what you have to make it look pretty. When there's no chance of keeping it and tidying it up. It's just impossible. The roof is caved in on the overall unconfusedness, the characters are all over the place, and the structure and walls are just crumbling down as we speak. There's only one thing to do. Gut it, keep the original idea, and forget the rest!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may not have them go visit the Establishment! Maybe Sage will decided that's not a good thing to suggest to a grieving Cali the day after his dad is taken. And so she won't, but they'll still talk about it. They'll talk about finding information, and discovering about what goes on, and then Blaine'll get roped in just like before, but it'll be different. Then they'll have their first visit to the place. See? Problem solved!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After mine turning into more of a paper, just like Clarissa's, this is where I end. So good luck to you others out there, and before I can fully get into writing, I'm going to go kill this high with HW, which was what I originally came in here with the purpose of doing. Thanks for your vote Lauren, sure got my last 20 minutes of life completely diverted ;P but that's the fun in it all, isn't it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-7862940525699161420?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/7862940525699161420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=7862940525699161420' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7862940525699161420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7862940525699161420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2007/12/tales-of-rewriting.html' title='The Tales of Rewriting'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-3636813908435489507</id><published>2007-12-07T23:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T00:46:22.420-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Oh, How I Envy Them."</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Okay. We all have this little thing that decides to come annoy us once in awhile.  Sometimes it leaves as quick as it has come; sometimes it sticks. And sticks. And sticks.  It's called a block. A block that can ruin up many many things; especially writing. There is a term known as a pain in the butt= Writer's Block. Yes, we have probably all experienced it, little or to the extremes. Just hearing it can make a person go, "Ugh!" Yeah.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Ugh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So this is my rant about my Writer's Block.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;No, it's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; there; it's almost constantly in my mind, telling me that I have to get to writing, but absolutely nothing imaginative is coming up in my mind.  Nothing at all.  Okay, so maybe a few things might pop up, but they suck.  I want to sometimes end my stories with these such scenarios (using some of my characters as examples-the very ones that are currently in my uncompleted story) : &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Tekachi walked up to Whisper, his gait determined and his mind set. He would do it. He walked up to her and leaned down, quickly feeling her lips respond to his.  The whole world ended around them and no war took place.  THE END.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Did you watch as the scene slowly, just slowly, then quickly die?  That's how quick my mind depletes everything good out - hence the Writer's Block sets in and I soon become ignorant and refuse to go on, because I know that I couldn't write anything better.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Just what is the problem behind my Writer's Block? I know what I want; I just don't know how to put it in words. I want to make it longer than normal and make everything seem to flow.  But now why don't I get it to flow as easily as I want it? The last chapter I wrote I was criticized for making it short; that was a result of my Writer's Block.  I didn't know how to make it flow; I didn't know how to make it longer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm ready to just quit the story because of my Writer's Block because I'm beginning to lose what I want and the I know I'm losing the focus of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt; how&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; I wanted my characters to develop and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;how&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; I wanted it to end. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Some authors say they are never affected by Writer's Block, and some are actually published authors. I wish I could say, "Oh, how I envy them." But no... somehow they must have problems of their own, but they also know how to take care of it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;"Oh how I envy them..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Yeah, it doesn't do anything for me &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;or&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; my story.  Heck, I think the best thing to try to get a story re-started or getting back into it is print it out, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;re-read&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; the story, and write down notes as you read through it then write down thoughts once you're done with it, the thoughts being of what will happen next; don't laugh at the ideas, but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;write&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; them down and sort them out.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And look at this blog. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;It was going to be a rant, but it turned out to be alike a paper, and it helped me develop ideas to overcome Writer's Block; some people say that it will go away by itself- but why not just try overcome it while you still have the chance? Or...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gna9isn2FGs/R1pYyuBBWPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lx_gLDfc3Cg/s1600-h/ssw036_450.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gna9isn2FGs/R1pYyuBBWPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lx_gLDfc3Cg/s320/ssw036_450.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141519552965859570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 102, 0);"&gt;Yoda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-3636813908435489507?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/3636813908435489507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=3636813908435489507' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/3636813908435489507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/3636813908435489507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2007/12/oh-how-i-envy-them.html' title='&quot;Oh, How I Envy Them.&quot;'/><author><name>Clarissa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01952170457574333859</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gna9isn2FGs/R1pYyuBBWPI/AAAAAAAAAAM/lx_gLDfc3Cg/s72-c/ssw036_450.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-8549621863440757441</id><published>2007-10-28T15:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T15:08:53.314-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time no see!</title><content type='html'>I've been not here.. forever! Why? Who knows? Maybe cause I don't really know of anyone who would actually read this cause I'm the only one who really knows I have such a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, you know... I mean who can blame me? All I have going on is school, homework... writing, reading... doesn't it sound like fun???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dunno... but! If you do read this I must encourage you to do something called NaNoWriMo. It's the most interesting thing there ever was, and it's tons of fun. Visit nanowrimo.org to check it out, cause I'm getting tired of explaining it. Is it November yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think after I actually finish my two entries on Boron... I'll work on it.. sounds good, no? Well.. there I go... *watches as I walk off into the horrible land of Boron where it's all science talk and is afraid of not finding her information*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-8549621863440757441?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/8549621863440757441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=8549621863440757441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/8549621863440757441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/8549621863440757441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2007/10/long-time-no-see.html' title='Long time no see!'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-2145537519120850531</id><published>2007-06-04T18:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T18:35:59.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meh...</title><content type='html'>It's finished! No surprise there, right? I finished it... May 28th. 4 days after what I had planned on, but it's pretty good, right? No, I don't think so. Apparently, the grammar sucks so badly and/or people forget so easily to actually read it. Yeah, I feel special. Not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I could spend my time that I'm sitting around with editting it, but I've done so much with it, I'm fed up with myself for even writing it. I mean, really, who wants to read&lt;em&gt; another&lt;/em&gt; classic, evil people take over world? I guess nobody, right? So, I'm sulking, is that an overly bad thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm actually going to look at it and sit and think about it for a little while tonight once people are all gone to bed so that they can't disturb me. Then again, maybe not. Depeneds on what else I have to occupy myself, doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, with all the stuff said, I'm not complaining about having writer's block necissarily, just... not knowing what to do with it now that I'm finished with it. Off I go to eat dinner, sit around, sweating my brains out, and probably read my book that's due in two days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-2145537519120850531?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/2145537519120850531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=2145537519120850531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/2145537519120850531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/2145537519120850531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2007/06/meh.html' title='Meh...'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-8622394907635905002</id><published>2007-05-22T13:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T14:02:02.434-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can anyone say... CONFUSING!</title><content type='html'>I think that it's time for people to STOP sending me mixed signals. He likes me, but he's dating someone else, even though the person he's dating is in the same position I am.. and yeah, I'm getting a bit tired of it. Just a little, because I still really like him, and yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My story is almost done with, I'm writing chapter 37, and I'm going to 40. So, I suppose that it's just about time for me to be finishing it up. AND, I'm getting out of school in 2 days, after that, I can completely spend all my time writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that said, I suppose I should go now and watch TV so I can NOT think...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-8622394907635905002?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/8622394907635905002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=8622394907635905002' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/8622394907635905002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/8622394907635905002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2007/05/can-anyone-say-confusing.html' title='Can anyone say... CONFUSING!'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-5045806696477509104</id><published>2007-04-22T19:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-22T19:19:21.283-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Here or There</title><content type='html'>So much... so much can happen in so short a time. I have to admit, I know things now that I didn't know when I first started this blog. In fact, I created it so that I could rant about my toubles of being an author... but hey, it hasn't happened much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I in fact have 32 chapters done of 40. To most, that's a lot, but to me, it's not enough. I want it to be right, but for now, I just no longer know what to put in it. Perhaps it's because I have no life other than this computer. You think if I actually went and did something besides focus on figuring out what to write next, reading, or playing video games that I might know what to write? I certainly can't figure it out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much seems to have happened, yet I can truthfully say that although it has really affected me, I feel nothing consiously. Well... perhaps I'll go find something else to do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-5045806696477509104?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/5045806696477509104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=5045806696477509104' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/5045806696477509104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/5045806696477509104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2007/04/here-or-there.html' title='Here or There'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-7937472506484436502</id><published>2007-03-01T15:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T15:44:11.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;i HATE WRITER'S BLOCK.  ARRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHH.  ya, i'm done now.  :D  It's almost my bday!!!  wootwoot!!!  :P&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-7937472506484436502?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/7937472506484436502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=7937472506484436502' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7937472506484436502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/7937472506484436502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2007/03/i-hate-writers-block.html' title=''/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01843286044885695336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-6542585852437413855</id><published>2007-02-28T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T19:33:27.552-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"&gt;I hope you have fun with u'r ranting...i'm hitting a total block right now on MWH...wish me luck.&lt;/span&gt;  ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-6542585852437413855?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/6542585852437413855/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=6542585852437413855' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/6542585852437413855'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/6542585852437413855'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2007/02/hey.html' title='Hey'/><author><name>Lauren</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01843286044885695336</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-5006705430777181545</id><published>2007-02-28T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-28T18:40:09.703-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boredom</title><content type='html'>How come nothing goes on in my life? There is absolutley nothing happening right now. Granted, I just finished a 31/2 hour homework assignment, that could've been done as a class assignment and would've taken 4 school days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it possible to have too much free time? I watch a soap opera, and am writing a BOOK at the age of 14, soon to be 15. I have a blog that I rant on, yet no one will read this. Is it possible to disappear? Is it possible to live life as a Marine Biologist when all you want to do is write? Will I ever actually make it to living in Canada? Too many questions... and no way to answer them. I'll be going now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-5006705430777181545?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/5006705430777181545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=5006705430777181545' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/5006705430777181545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/5006705430777181545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2007/02/boredom.html' title='Boredom'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3317841244168757888.post-2984093418710532193</id><published>2007-02-24T17:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-24T17:50:30.672-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Author's First</title><content type='html'>&lt;span &gt;Well, I would like to state that first of all, I live in the US, but I would prefer to live somewhere in Canada. So if I have the date format that way, or I spell the words the way they do, please don't reprimend me. Someday, I will live there, and I will very happy about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am an aspiring author, so I will frequently mention writing, seeing as how according to most people I have too much time and think of nothing else yet still earn straight A's in all of my academic classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say though, don't ask about friends, as of the moment, I really don't have any who live closer than twelve hours away. So... if I seem to have a lot of this free time don't ask why don't you go out with friends, because I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'll be going now, probably back to the world of writing and reading where things turn out just the way they should without much effort on my part. Thanks for reading!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3317841244168757888-2984093418710532193?l=theauthorsrant.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/feeds/2984093418710532193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3317841244168757888&amp;postID=2984093418710532193' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/2984093418710532193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3317841244168757888/posts/default/2984093418710532193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theauthorsrant.blogspot.com/2007/02/authors-first.html' title='Author&apos;s First'/><author><name>Holly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02301942582924062142</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
