Thoughts As They Appeared In My Mind

Hello Readers,

    I am currently in my pajamas, at my desk while I write this, my hair is unbrushed and my eyes probably still have sleep in the corners and I keep sneezing from my cold. But hey, it's Saturday, my day off of saving the world. Hopefully the Avengers can handle this one.

       Normally I have a mental image in my head of what my blog post is going to be about, but not today, just writing the thoughts as they enter my mind. I'm in a bit of a poetic mood this morning, so it should be something half way decent.

         It's sunny here, and it looks even more so because of the light reflecting off of the yellow-orange walls that surround my house. The trees are waving in the wind, whether to tell me hi or to get out and do something, I don't know. I have plans to read "To Kill A Mockingbird" today, but I might finish my Ranger's Apprentice book first...

        But then again, there's this gnome book I also want to read today... I might do all three. I have the time today. It's anything but quiet in my house, but I'm used to it, I'll probably just sit up on the kitchen counter and read and drink some coffee. Later though, I want to write some first.

        I realized the other day how much easier it is for me to write poems than songs... Songs are difficult. You have an average of 3 and a half minutes to get your point across. To make the listener feel what you're feeling, and communicate in so short a time. It's honestly quite stressful. But poems, poems can be long or short, and they just have to rhyme, doesn't matter if you get the time off or not. There's no guitar solo, no keyboard riff, just the pen scratching the paper.

        I really like that sound, actually, of my fountain pen scratching the paper... It's a satisfying sound. Probably the way a musician feels when he plays the last chord, sings the last note. And it's done. There is a piece of art.

       Is art made for the ordinary people? Or is it made for the artists? I've been asking myself this question lately... The majority of people who listen to music want to be musicians... The majority of art lovers want to be painters or sketchers. The majority of people who read books want to be authors.

         So who is the art made for? Is it made for everyone? I think so... But I think the apprentices in the craft catch the hidden meanings, the small smiles that the makers have so deviously hidden in their work. For the ones who know how to find it. So yes, art is for us all, but it's the apprentices who can appreciate it the best.

     Cause they understand. How hard it is to make. People who don't, just look at it and see the finished product. When a painter looks at a painting, he doesn't just see the picture, he sees the time, the effort, the soul in it. When a writer reads a book, they see the days spent researching this little fact, shaping this character lovingly, editing every last detail to make sure it's good. When a musician listens to a song, they hear the hours spent in recording studios, they hear the nights spent scratching their heads over that one lost lyric.

       And this has been the thoughts as they've popped into my head...

~Rubix

Music, Poets, and a Dash of Rambling

Hello Readers,

           Music... What is it?



     Well, the definition of this word is: vocal or instrumental sounds (or both) combined in such a way as to produce beauty of form, harmony, and expression of emotion.

        But what is it really? Is music something that can be summed up in a mere sentence? I don't know, to be honest. But for me, music isn't something I can just put in a box and tie a big bow around.

         People react to music different ways, I suppose. I listen to music, well, when I listen to a song for the very first time, I give it all my attention. I close my eyes and I listen. I digest it, I process it, and then I pick it apart. Carefully. Scrutinizingly. Deciding if this song deserves my undivided attention.

        I look for the underlying meanings in songs, I look for the hidden messages, I look to fill in the gaps. And that's why I'm extremely careful on what music I listen to. Because music affects me, and it affects me deeply. Music isn't just something we can listen to and brush off.

        I've thought things and felt feelings through music that were mind blowing. I've felt the presence of God just by listening to music. Just drinking it in. And this is why I am so careful.

        Because when I listen to something, it stays with me. Little fragments of songs floating around in my brain, little whispers that guide me. Little nudges in the right direction.

         And this is why, you'll find songs with deep lyrics on my iTunes, and no, I don't have Gangham Style, or that new "Whip" song everyone is raving about, because I am a lyric person.

        If the lyrics mean nothing, or are poorly written, the whole song is just a waste of time for me. And most of the time, when people say "This song makes no sense", it just means they aren't looking
hard enough. Because almost 99% of the time, the meaning is there, you just have to look hard for it.

        Poets are people who hear music when the music stopped playing. They hear the lyrics in the sun shining and the wind blowing through their hair. Poets are the listeners to the music no one else can hear. And sometimes, these poets don't even write. But they hear the music just the same.

       So, can you hear the music, readers? Do you hear it?

"And you keep on dreamin'
When the dreams all fade
When friends desert me
You're the ones who stay
To write the prayers when every prayer had been prayed
You are the poets I have known" 
-Andrew Peterson
         
 

Ramblings about The Village and Life Updates

Hello Readers,

      So, most of you are probably back to school, and if you aren't you're most likely about ready to take the plunge into the school year. Good luck to you, my fellow soldiers! Good luck to you!

Life Updates:

-Currently stuck on a part in my book... heh... -_____-
-Been listening to the "Oh Hello's" recently, really good band ^-^ Love them.
-Also, got the Menagerie series by Tui and Kari Sutherland (love how they're sisters and writing together :D makes me happy:) ) And I really enjoyed it... which I wasn't expecting! 
-Almost done with Algebra 1! Thank goodness! Will be starting Biology soon... And I'm going to have to dissect a frog... *insert terrified face here*

       I recently watched this movie ---> The Village by M. Night Shyamalan (no, I have no idea how to pronounce this) and my mind was just... blown.

      As an author, I adore plot twists and I hate figuring out plots in the first fifteen minutes. Sadly, this normally happens.

      Not so in this movie. Not so. It was... mind blowing. Mind. Blowing.

     So please, proceed with caution, because this movie will be forever ruined if you read ahead.


        The Village starts out in a small normal village in the late 18th century. Looks normal. I thought it was going to be something like "Oh... someone in the village turns bad and murders someone and they have to figure it out. Boring. Figured it out all ready." WRONG. 

      Turns out, there's these things, "The Things We Do Not Speak Of" that are going around and killing the animals, then skinning them and leaving them as a sign or something. Ok... Creepy... But probably a coyote or something, because I mean, honestly, really? The Things We Do Not Speak Of? Really?

        And then you see one. It wears a red cloak, and starts walking around the village, putting a red stripe on the doors while everyone scrambles and runs for safety. So then, I assumed "Okay, so they're going to have to exterminate these animals. Plot figured out:D" WRONG. 

       So, there's this whole complicated love story in there, but the main character, Lucius basically proposes to Ivy (and it's a beautiful scene, I loved it ^-^). But the thing is, there's this mentally disabled guy (I really liked him though:/ so this scene made me so mad -___-)  and he also loves Ivy, and so he goes over to Lucius's hut and stabs him, wounding him pretty badly:/

         Ivy then asks permission to go into the woods so she can get medicine from the towns to help him. So I then was like "Okay, this is going to be your typical Halmark movie... Girl gets medicine, girl saves guy, girl and guy get married." WRONG. 

       So her father, who is one of the elders takes her to this shed, that no one is supposed to go into and tells her to walk forward... And please, try not to scream. So she does, and then she touches something that makes her flip out. She doesn't scream, kudos to her!

       But, I do believe I've said enough. You should watch it, if you are allowed, but if you aren't 13 or older I wouldn't recommend it... Or for the adults who read my blog, I think you would enjoy it.

Anyways, fare thee well until next time!

~Rubix

Ramblings on Books

Greetings Dear Readers,

     I apologize for my absence... I am now back! 

Life Update:

-Finished Season 3 of Sherlock 

-Had friends come and live with us for two days :D

-Still ignoring all plot holes and dodging writer's block like the plague

-School's going fine... I s'pose...

-Learned how to play Pandemic and it's given me two novel ideas so far! 

-Had pancakes for breakfast (yes, yes you needed to know that. You know you did...)

              So, today I am going to give a list of a bunch of books I like and reasons why I like them! Yay! (This is also known as... I-can't-think-of-anything-to-blog-about-so-I'm-going-to-talk-about-books)

          

Well, first off we are going to talk about this book series ----->

Ranger's Apprentice:

Think Aragorn from Lord of the Rings but a whole bunch of them +Robin Hood + Evil guys trying to take over the world+bows and arrows and that's basically Ranger's Apprentice. 

I really liked the four books I've read in this series, there are twelve, and I'm currently on the fifth book. So far, each book has flowed wonderfully and not had the same resurrected plot for each new book. I really appreciate that as an author and a reader, to have something new each book. 

The characters are all very different, all have their own personality and ways they do things, and the reactions and clashes are all very realistic and interesting. I think my personal favorite is Halt, but I generally tend to like the grumpy old broody guys. 

And Halt is pretty broody and grumpy, all right, but he's my favorite. Without a doubt. 

The thing I like about this, is none of the characters are perfect. They all fail and mess up and doubt themselves like ordinary people. They're human.

And the plot line makes sense, and it's not like a bunch of separate books with the same characters, but like one big long story with pauses in-between. And I love that. 

And now onto this book, another one in a series I really like ---->

The Swipe Series: 

I love dystopian in general, and this, in my opinion is one of my favorite series. It has some Christian elements and they are believable and work with the characters. It flows with the story instead of sticking out and not working with the characters.

My favorite character in this book is Daniel. Daniel Peck. Leader of the Dust.

He's mysterious and it takes you two whole books to figure out who he really is and what he really wants to do. And he's amazing.







There are four books in this series, Swipe (#1), Sneak (#2), Storm (#3),  and Spark (#4). The first three are about Logan and Erin and their friends and the Dust. The fourth book is a completely different story. New main character, new setting,altered plot. And it all ties together in a way that is completely genius and brilliant.









And that's all for today, folks! Hope you enjoyed and I highly recommend both of these series!

~Rubix 

In Memory of Little Turt

Hello Readers,

      I regret to inform you that our turtle, "Little Turt" has left us yesterday, on 08/07/15, due to a tragic car accident. He was a kind soul, he ambled around in our courtyard and was acquaintances with our dog, Luther.

       Before that fateful morning, we had never worried about him getting in the way of the van as we un-parked it and drove away from our residence. Alas, as my dear father was pulling out of the garage, we heard a sickening crushing noise and he promptly stopped the car, demanding to know what he had just run over.

      The object in question was smashed beyond recognition so he pulled the car out more, the sickening crush continuing to echo throughout our ears and then I scarcely dared to look, but look I did, and I was met with the sigh of our beloved turtle's shell crushed and blood began spreading across the pavement as we looked on...

        It was extremely sickening, and we quickly left our house, and I must admit, I rather hoped our dog would eat his dead remains so we wouldn't have to pick them up.

        Alas, when we returned, he was still there, smashed and bloodied, and then my father turned to me and spoke with nonchalance and informed me that I would be the one to pick up the remains.

      Somehow, I managed to in fact, "get out" of such a doing, and he was thrown in the trashcan, where he has remained.

           We are indeed, saddened by his loss, but I can not say I am grieving too much because I didn't know the poor fellow all too well... We are, indeed, planning on getting another turtle, the courtyard feels empty without his small shell ambling about.

       *and the author clears her throat here* Yes, I just wrote that whole article in as posh a voice as I could muster, I hope you appreciate it, but the events that occurred in this blog post are indeed, true.

     Little Turt has passed on.

     Rest in peace, darling turtle. You shall be missed, and remembered.

~Rubix

DUN DUN DUNNNN! Or, Meet The Villains!

Hello Readers,

Update on Life:

-Recently watched The Reichenbach Fall (Sherlock Season 2 finale) and still recovering. 

-Continuing to do Algebra, trudging through graphs and functions and the horror of horrors: What does that darn little X equal?? 

-Continuing to second-draft Realms Unseen and trying to avoid rabbit trails and ignore all plot holes. 

-Reading Shadow Spinner, A Tale of Two Cities, and whatever else I can get my hands on. 

And now... onto the Villains!

I don't know all the details about them yet, but the wisps I do know, I'll share with you.

Lumier:

Don't have a picture of him yet, but he's an older man, probably in his late 60's, with wild white hair and extremely bright blue eyes. He wears white lab coats and I can't seem to stop picturing him without glasses... So he also has spectacles.

He's insane, but brilliant, and he honestly doesn't want to hurt anyone, just conduct his research and help his country. In the process of that, however, he hurts a lot of people. So he's the insane "villain" doing bad things with a good reason.

Fun Fact: His name is a spoof off on "lumière" which is French for "light" because he wears only white and has the appearance of an old fun loving guy.

Foncé:

Also, picture less, sorry! Foncé is Lumier's opposite in almost every way. Lumier is old, Foncé is young. He's about 20-25, haven't decided yet, and has dark black hair and grey eyes. He only wears black, and tends to lurk around the hallways and shadows, doing his whole "evil Batman" thing.

He's greedy and just works with Lumier for the money and thrill of the job, and he's completely fine with hurting people to get his way, or his wages, for that matter. He's ego-centric and can not stand to be proven wrong or mocked. He can be easily bribed, but he's also smart and knows how to bargain. Watch your back if you're working with him, he can't be trusted.

Fun Fact: His name is the french word for "dark" and is just another one of the drastic differences between him and Lumier.

Well, now that you know a bit about their characters, here's a little excerpt introducing them!

An old man chuckled and gently walked out, hands up, with a messy mop of white hair. “Hello, Skylar.” He smiled amiably, not at all concerned with the two knives being pointed at him.

Tristan threw a knife, but the man sidestepped, extremely fast for someone of his age and his blue eyes sparkled. “You are just what the stories portrayed you as, maybe even better. Wonderful. I admire your independence and fire, but I’m afraid that I can’t have you throwing knives at my poor workers, you already knocked one of them out cold, though he was a bit of a disappointment…” The man frowned and wrote something down quickly on a pad of paper, and then addressed Tristan, “If you would be so kind as to remove all your knives, or I fear I will have to use a magnet, which could cause you bodily harm. I would hate for that to happen.” He frowned, wrinkles showing.

Tristan glared at him and then slowly nodded, and pulled four knives out of his hair and threw them on the ground. The old man smiled kindly, but there was a trace of menace in his voice, “The rest of them. We’ve heard about you, Sky, and your numerous knives…”

Tristan growled and took off his shoes, throwing four more knives down on the floor, two from each. He then went painstakingly through all his clothes, taking small thin knives out and adding them to the pile on the ground. “There.” He snarled, reminding Kao of a guard dog, barring his teeth.

“And now you, kind sir, please dispose of your weapons.” The old mans eyes were smiling but the smile playing on his mouth made tingles go up and down Nessa’s spine, and she shivered. Kao glared at him but went through his weapons and dropped each one with a final clang on the ground, snarling.

He didn’t seem to notice, his smile growing wider as he turned to Nessa and put his hand on her chin, forcing her to look up at his blue eyes. “Hello, little one.” She promptly kicked his shin, and ran behind Tristan, shaking. The man’s smile just grew wider, his eyes glassed over with what could only be described as insanity.

“Wonderful. Just wonderful.” He muttered to himself, grinning and motioned for them to follow him out the door, “You will do just nicely.”

Tristan stayed put, glaring at him, “Like ‘eck we are going out that door.”

“I’m sorry, Sky, but if you don’t cooperate, I’ll have to use… unconventional methods on your daughter over there.” He frowned, “I really don’t want to do that…”

Nessa turned white and gripped Tristan’s arm as he swore at the man, and his feet moved forward without his consent.

Kao’s eyes were growing wider and he directed a lost look towards Tristan.

“Just do what he says.” Tristan spat, swearing under his breath as he walked after him.

Kao took a shaky breath and followed behind them, murmuring to himself and taking notice of Nessa’s even paler face. They walked for what felt like hours on end, holding their breath until they walked into a room lit with eerie blue lights and a gentle humming filled the room, making Kao’s skin crawl.

“Now, there’s these annoying laws about taking people from their realms, and your wonderful races were out of my reach. I spent years trying my experiments on ordinary humans, but their immune systems were much too weak, and I came no closer to achieving a cure.” He frowned, “But then I caught word of a run away princeling from Niadra, and of course I had to send one of my men to check it out, no matter how much of a rabbit trail it is. Unprofessional, following gossip, don’t judge, it was the only way I was able to find you. I must say, wonderful job, Skylar, it took me a while to track you down, your disguise is amazing.”

Tristan swore at him, making Kao put his hands over Nessa’s ears again. He continued on, smiling as if he hadn’t heard the interruption.

“So I employed one of my men, Foncé to find you, and mess with the connection of the trees, thankfully we can do that, because of a good friend of mine, but he’s dead now… Knew too much. Ah well, I used that to bring you here, and as you probably noticed, Skylar, you couldn’t contact the Forest. Courtesy of these walls, I must say, I’m quite proud of them. And just to be sure you can’t escape or hurt anyone I am sorry to say that you are obliged to put on these.” He gestured to a pair of handcuffs and put them on Tristan, “I hope you’ll make yourselves at home. You’ll be here for a while. Don’t worry, the girl is too young to be of any use to me… But you two, will work nicely for my experiments. I am so excited!” At saying this, he clapped his hands like a little child.

A deep voice said, from a side of the room, they hadn’t noticed him there before, “Lumier. You’re getting off track.” The voice was young, sounded exasperated, and was a lot deeper than Lumier’s.

“Yes, yes, you’re completely right. Now, who would like to escort Mr. Skylar to his room?” Lumier said, grinning again.

None of the guards in that room answered, their eyes widening.

“Ah, thank you, Titus.” Lumier said, pointing to one of the guards in the back, “You will do nicely. Please escort our… friend to his room.” 

Titus reluctantly stepped forward and shakily pointed his gun at Tristan, telling him in ill hid shaky voice not to act up or he’d shoot. Nessa screamed at that proclamation and clung to his side, screaming at him not to go. Kao was shaking with anger, and his face was white, his eyes narrowed to small slits.

Lumier scowled in Titus’s direction, “You are escorting him to a room, not making death threats.” He sighed, exasperated. “Foncé, will you do the honors, since our guards are so ill prepared.”

The man with the deep voice stepped out from the shadows with what some would call a smile, but it was dripping with insincerity as he narrowed the gaze of his dark eyes to Tristan. “Of course, Lumier, I would be most gratified to escort our friend to his quarters.” His voice was cold and civil as he nodded coolly to Tristan and turned quickly, walking down the hallway, his black clothes making him near invisible to their sight.

Tristan didn’t follow, and Foncé came back, his dark eyes narrowed into small slits. “Come.”

Tristan smirked in response.

Dun. Dun. Duuuuuunnnnn! Hope you enjoyed, please leave a comment below! ^-^