How to Use a Grain Bin for Acrobatic Training

October 27, 2016October 27, 2016 | Allison

Have you ever played in grain bins? If not, you are missing out.

Since I’m guessing most of you have in fact never played in grain bins, I have kindly compiled a tutorial to show you how it’s done. 😀 (Even though the pictures are *ahem* not my best – the grain bins don’t have what you’d call perfect lighting.)

First, you must find a grain bin. Fortunately that’s not too hard for us since we have several on our farm. You’ll need to find one that has corn in it, or the fun will be considerably diminished. (Although empty grain bins are good for letting your dog catch mice in.) Make sure the bin isn’t too full so you’ll have plenty of room for your acrobatics.

An example of a good grain bin choice: (Fun fact: did you know this grain bin can hold about 45,000 bushels of corn when it’s full?!)

Next you must enter the grain bin. Depending on how full it is, you will either need to climb in through the door or else climb a ladder/staircase and enter through a trapdoor. We chose the latter. (But not the ladder. Heh heh.) Some advice while climbing: don’t look down and try not to dwell on the seeming frailty of the staircase.

Now comes the hard part: getting in. This takes a good bit of courage the first time, because you’re pretty much looking down into a cavernous black hole. Also the trapdoor is usually rather small. But be brave – adventure awaits!

Climb down the ladder. Once inside, the grain bin looks quite light, and you shouldn’t feel claustrophobic anymore. In fact, you wonder why you were worried. (You remember again when you climb out.)

Time for the fun to begin! One of the best things to do in a grain bin is practice your acrobatic skills: in other words, jump off the ladder a lot. It’s kind of like jumping off of a hay loft into hay, only more… corny. Plus you get an added bonus of sinking up to your knees in corn kernels!

grain-bins-6-1280x960 — If you’re wondering what all that annoying bokeh comes from, the answer is corn dust.

If you tire of acrobatics, you can always bury your friend in the corn or throw handfuls at the metal wall to make a satisfactory ringing sound. It’s also fun to play “Whales.”

Whales Instructions: fill someone’s socks (preferably your sibling’s/friend’s) with corn, and tie off the top. You have made a “whale.” Now divide up into two teams with equal amounts of whales per team, select a battle cry (“FOR NARNIA!”) and throw your corn-filled aquatic mammals at the other team, making sure not to cross the invisible middle line. Each participant is out after being hit three times. If you catch a whale, the person who threw it loses a life. Whichever team has the last person standing wins!

HA HA HA that was so fun to write. XD I hope you enjoyed this helpful how-to, and I trust you will refer to it if the need arises. XD

***Allison***

P. S. You have only day to enter my giveaway! (Thank you soooo much, everyone who entered so far!) I will post the winner on October 29th. I can’t wait to see who wins!

Beauty From Ashes, Part 4

October 24, 2016November 12, 2018 | Allison

Hello, hello! I’m excited to present the next part of Beauty from Ashes! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

If you’re new to the series, it’s basically a fairytale mash-up of Beauty and the Beast and Cinderella. (Thus the title. 😀 ) You can click here to read the previous chapters. Let me give you a little refresher from the last part before we begin:

“Come, Ella, my dear one. I have some explaining to do.”

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He led me to the mossy couch that I had built for him, was it only a few weeks ago? I remembered with astonishment how fiercely I had hated the Beast that day.

“Sit down,” he said, “and I will tell you everything.”

“I know you are wondering who I am – this man that appeared from a monster? That is a very good question, my dear. A very good question. And the answer is a very surprising one. Do you trust me, Ella?”

I nodded hesitantly, and he smiled in return.

“Very well. Ella, I am the Prince.”

I blinked, stunned. My gruff old friend, the Beast, had melted into a prince? How? Why?

“I see you are wondering how? Why? I’m getting to that… Months ago, my father began planning for this ball, my wedding ball. I did not want a wedding ball. I wanted to find a real princess, not a girl frozen by awe and oozing false politeness. I began to think, to dream. What would those hundreds of girls act like if I were not a Prince but some ugly creature of no benefit to them? I determined to find out. And I knew just who to turn to for help: my grandmother. Grandmother is very… unusual, you could say. You see, her mother was a fairy, and it was Grandmother’s fairy knowledge that turned me into a lumbering, shaggy Beast.”

“Every day I traveled the woods, meeting girls like you, Ella, but not like you. Oh, they performed the tasks I required of them, but they hated me with all their hearts. They were not true princesses.”

I squirmed a bit in my seat. “I hated you too, at first,” I whispered guiltily. “But of course I got over that.”

The Prince smiled. “Yes, you got over that. You alone of all the girls I met took the time to pierce through my dead shell and discern the living heart underneath. You were brave, humble, hardworking, patient, kind, and honest. You were a real princess. You are a real princess. And so, my dear, that is my story. But I have one more favor to ask of you.” The Prince looked kindly upon my doubtful face. “I am a hard master, am I? But this task I am sure you will like. Ella, I personally invite you to my ball tomorrow night.”

I gasped. Could it be that I, ash-covered Cinderella, would go to the ball at last? “B-but I don’t have a dress! How am I to get to the palace? Who will take me? And, oh!” My face crumpled in despair, “My mother will never believe me when I tell her who invited me.” I bit my lip against the threatening tears. I was so close, and yet so far!

But the Prince only smiled. “Don’t worry about the details. My grandmother has arranged all of that. She will meet you here tomorrow night, after your sisters have left. That is… if you want to go…” The Prince hesitated.

“Yes, oh yes! Of course I want to go! ”

The Prince smiled yet again, although he never really stopped smiling. His face was so brilliantly happy that I didn’t know if it was even capable of frowning. “I am glad, Ella dear. So glad. But before I leave, allow me to give you one last gift.” The Prince knelt and drew a gleaming box out from under the couch. I opened it carefully.

Inside were two shining, perfect slippers, made of clearest glass. My eyes widened in delight.

{image via zsazsabellagio.blogspot.com ]

“I thought perhaps you should have some new shoes… since a certain monster so cruelly took the only pair you had. Do you like them?”

I couldn’t even answer. I slid the shoes onto my stained feet. A perfect fit. “I love them,” I whispered.

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Huh, who knew that Cinderella’s glass slippers had a story like that? Not me. 😀 I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter!

P. S. In my survey, some of you said you enjoy writing posts, and others… not so much. Although I know I can’t please everybody, I do love writing posts that you love to read! That’s part of the fun of blogging! So I’ll try not too post writing too often because although writing is delicious in small doses, I understand that it can get a little tiresome in big chunks (at least for me). 😉

How to Be Invisible: a Writer’s Guide

October 11, 2016April 3, 2017 | Allison

{background image via unsplash.com}

With NaNoWriMo coming up, I thought this would be a great time to post some writing tips and tricks! 🙂 Of course I’m certainly not a professional writer, and I make these very same mistakes all the time. I’m simply sharing some tips and suggestions that I hope will help you and me to improve our writing. 🙂 (BE WARNED: This is a veeery long post! XD )

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The “how to be invisible” part of my title comes from this essay I wrote for school. I’ve added a few notes, but otherwise pretty much left it as it is. I’ll probably refer to this in the rest of the post.

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How to Be Invisible: A Writer’s Guide to More Natural Storytelling

You’re absorbed in a story when an awkward phrase or a misplaced word brings you up short. Was that a mistake, or did you just skip a sentence? Now you have to back up, get a head start, and read the passage all over again. The author has spoiled the paragraph by coming out of hiding, by becoming too “visible.” The best authors are masters of invisibility.

What do I mean by “invisibility?” Simply this: a good author allows the story to take the stage; he avoids self-conscious, unnatural words that highlight his voice instead of his characters’. The reader should be able to immerse himself in a book without being distracted by a misplaced word, a grammar error, or a clumsy sentence.

How does one become invisible? These three tips will get you started.

Technical errors like grammar mistakes, misspelled words, and faulty punctuation are widely recognized as mistakes – and for a good reason. Even a subtle misspelling will throw the reader off. Indeed, using a real but misplaced word is sometimes more arresting than an obvious typo. “Defiantly” instead of “definitely,” “aloud,” instead of “allowed,” “breath” instead of “breathe”… Do these look familiar?

Sometimes you can achieve invisibility in more subtle ways. “Said” and its alternatives are a good example of this. On the one hand, if you use “said” all the time, your dialogue drags, but on the other hand, using anything but “said” makes your dialogue sound unnatural. [I’ve especially noticed the second option in blogging world. 😀 ] Both styles bring the author to the front instead of the characters. Let’s take the former error first:

“I won’t,” she said.

“Jane,” he said,” I am going to win this argument if it kills me!”

“You won’t,” she said.

“Then do I have to break out the tickling squad?” he said.

Jane backed away. “You don’t,” she said.

Yuck. Now let’s look at the second error:

“I won’t!” she cried.

“Jane,” he exclaimed fiercely, “I am going to win this argument if it kills me!”

“You won’t,” she replied calmly.

“Then do I have to break out the tickling squad?” he queried threateningly.

Jane backed away. “You don’t,” she murmured.

Still no good. The writer has tried to avoid “said” at all costs, resulting in an affected and adverb-ridden conversation. So how do we strike a balance? The solution is to use both options. Don’t be afraid to use “said” once in a while – it provides some white-space for the reader. But be sure to add dynamic verbs and gerund phrases as well, as long as you don’t overload them with adverbs.

A third common error is using too many adjectives, particularly in opening sentences: [Again, I often see this in blogging world. 😉 I tend to do this too. It’s just so tempting to describe with all of those luscious words! But that can lead to…]

“She brushed her luxurious, raven black hair from her delicate face with a slender hand, and pulled the thin gray sweater close around her shivering body. Her steel blue eyes anxiously searched the clouded gray sky for something that would never return…” All those adjectives clutter up the sentences and make them sound unnatural. Instead of hearing the character’s voice, you hear the author self-consciously spouting forth flowery language.

How do you fix this? The best idea is to scatter these description throughout the opening paragraphs, or even pages. You don’t have to exhaustively describe your character or the setting in the first sentence. [GASP! I know, right?] Let the reader get to know your character gradually, feeding them bite- sized descriptive tidbits instead of forcing down a whole chunk at once.

Becoming an invisible author isn’t easy, but it can be done. Scour your writing for any grammatical mistakes or awkward style formations that push you and your writing to the front instead of your characters. With a critical eye and some practice, your readers won’t even know you’re there.

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So basically what I mean by invisibility is writing your story naturally, so your readers will hear your character’s voice instead of yours. Here are a few other tips for invisibility. 🙂

Sentence Variation:

I often struggle with this because it’s so easy to find a rhythm and use the same pattern. Maybe you write in short declarative sentences or two-clause sentences, or really loooong sentences. Whatever you always do, don’t. Sentence variation saves the reader from monotony and death-from-boredom. In general, I like to use two or three clause sentences for the most part, scatter long sentences occasionally, and use short declarative sentences for emphasis. Don’t underestimate the power of a well-placed short sentence! It stops you cold. (See there?)

Clutter:

It’s amazing how many words you can prune from a piece of writing. I’m reading William Zinsser’s On Writing Well for school, and he suggests using brackets to burn through clutter. Put brackets around all words, sentences, and even paragraphs that seem unnecessary, then read through your story again, skipping over the bracketed sections. You can always keep the bracketed words if your story needs them, but you might be surprised at how many words you can clip away! Don’t save a word merely for its sophisticated sound.

Tone:

Make sure to keep a consistent tone throughout your book. Yeah yeah, everyone knows that. But seriously, it’s a very important part of invisibility! 😛 Let me give you a few examples of what I mean.

Tone can be especially tricky in first person POV. Your main character is telling the story, so make sure it’s natural. (I definitely have trouble with this myself.) If you were the narrator, would you describe yourself as having “luxurious raven black hair”, to use our previous example? Depending on your character’s personality, you might, but personally I would feel rather awkward saying that. XD (Plus it’s not true – as you can see from my profile picture. XD ) It’s too poetic – it fits better in third person POV when you as the author are more removed from the story, and talking of a person other than yourself.

Another thing to watch for is the tone of individual words. If your story has a more serious tone or is set in a timeless or older setting, using modern words like wacky, fake, weirdo, etc. will temporarily destroy the mood you’ve created for the reader. This also goes for materials and objects. If your character lives in a Medieval-Age world where they fight with bow-and-arrows, ride horses, and live in thatched houses, please don’t use modern inventions like plastic, computers, or paved highways (that is, unless your setting is only partly Medieval). Nope, not a good idea.

Miscellaneous But Useful Tidbits:

Redundant Words: If your character is holding a knife, you don’t need to say that it’s “sharp” unless you have previously told the reader otherwise. If your character feels like dancing in the rain, don’t describe the experience as “wet.” Unless the reader is a hermit who lives in a desert and thinks “knife” is that bug that keeps crawling into their bed at night, they can figure out that information on their own. 😉

“Several minutes:” I’ve probably used this several times in my writing, but if you really think about it, this phrase doesn’t make sense. If you met someone and “we stared at each other fearfully for a few minutes,” that would be extremely awkward. Most of the time you should change this phrase to “several moments” or “a few moments.”

Two-clause “and” sentences: I learned this helpful little tip in grammar a few years ago. If you have a two-part sentence where the subject doesn’t change and where the two clauses are connected by the word “and,” you don’t need to separate them with a comma. Okay, that was kind of confusing, so let me give you an example.

Wrong: John eagerly nodded his head, and gave her a brilliant smile.

Right: John eagerly nodded his head and gave her a brilliant smile.

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Phew! That was a loooong post! But I hope that was helpful, at least a little bit! Do you have any writing tips?

***Allison***

TIWC #6, The Dust Pixies, Part 6

October 5, 2016November 11, 2016 | Allison

*Gulp* It’s the last TIWC. 😦 This has been a lot of fun, Grace! Thank you so much for hosting this lovely writing challenge. I’ve enjoyed writing this series and watching what twists and turns the writing prompts make.

Grace, I used all three prompts and the word “pencil” in my story. I also included something lost, something found, true love, heartbreak, and a betrayal.

Here’s a refresher from last chapter:

“But now he’s gone,… and I don’t know if he’ll ever return. Oh please, won’t you help me?”

I swallowed hard and glanced at Lise. She nodded her head ever so slightly. “”We’re in,” I said.

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Anabelle Rose took a deep breath and gave us the background for the ‘case.’ “I have always dreaded The Collecting. Finn does that once a month, you know. Makes a trip out of it. He travels all over the house and outdoors as well to gather replacements for our clothing, pencil-wood, candles, and such things. I’m so lonely here by myself, but he insists that I stay here, where I’m safe. But that’s what worries me. If I’m not safe, neither is he. Before now he’s always managed to come home safe and sound, but this time… this time he hasn’t.” Anabelle Rose bit her lip, and continued in a quavering voice, “Usually when I wake up in the mornings and see the sun rays dancing through the window, it feels good to be alive. But with Finn gone, all I feel is heartbreak. I keep imagining all the terrible things that could have happened to him, but I can’t do anything about it. I’m only a fairy, after all. I couldn’t do search for him on my own, and no one would dare help me, even if I worked up the courage to go and ask… except you.” Anabelle Rose glanced at us pleadingly.

I took the hint. “We’d be glad to help you find Finn, Mrs….”

“Call me Anabelle,” she said.

“Then we’d be glad to help you, Anabelle. That’s actually why we came to the attic in the first place…” Then I told her about meeting Rosalind, about her story, about our quest. I realized, as I told the story, how far Lise and I had gone – we had associated with a human and now with a fairy. We had betrayed the dust pixies. We had become traitors. But somehow I couldn’t find it in myself to be guilty. Now that I had met a human and a fairy for real, I liked them. It felt wrong to be against them – they were really just like us.

After discussing the matter with Anabelle, we decided that the most logical place to start was outside, at the willow tree overhanging the brook.

“Finn knows his way around this house so well – I’m sure that wasn’t a problem for him. But he is a dust pixie, and dust pixie’s aren’t raised outdoors. If Finn could get in trouble anywhere at all, that’s where it would be. Outside. And I have a friend who lives at the willow tree. She keeps close track of everything that she can see from her tree – which is a lot, believe me.”

So that’s where we went. Outside. None of us had ever been outside before, and Fiona and Petre especially were awed as we flew out the attic window. We had seen The Outdoors of course, from windows, but the cool, fresh air and the glorious smell of leaves and grass and growing things were new to us. I loved it.

Anabelle confidently alit on one of the top branches of a beautiful, stately willow tree that shaded a whispering brook below. Anabelle knocked on a protruding knothole in the tree trunk. She waited, smiling, watching our amazed faces trying to take everything in. She seemed to feel better now that we had begun our quest.

Suddenly the knothole swung open and a fairy stepped out. Her light brown hair had strands of willow leaves braided into it and her eyes were olive green, just like the leaves. Her elegant, gray-green wings looked delicate yet strong. She looked, in fact, much like her tree: green and brown and graceful.

“Meet my friend Elaena,” Anabelle smiled. We all greeted her shyly and introduced ourselves. Elaena nodded pleasantly at us, but she was reserved and quiet for the most part. She seemed a little shy as well.

“What has brought you here, Anabelle?” Elaena inquired. So Anabelle told the fairy how Finn had gone missing and explained that they had come to her for clues. Elaena stood still thoughtfully for a moment, silently opening and closing her wings.

“Yes, I have a clue,” she said at last, in a soft voice. “But I don’t think it’s a happy one.” Elaena spoke slowly, her eyes downcast. “I saw Finn enter the Inner Forest, but I have not seen him return.”

Anabelle’s pale skin turned even paler. She gasped, and her hands flew to her mouth. She blinked hard against threatening tears. “No,” she whispered. “Please, no.”

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Now I understood her reaction.

We had traveled down the brook in Elaena’s bark boat. That was quite an experience for Lyri, my siblings, and I. I nearly lost my balance getting in, and Petre did lose his balance. Twice. Then Lyri and Fiona who were sitting in the back of the boat almost got catapulted into the water when the front end hit a rock. Despite these difficulties, however, I found that I enjoyed boating. I the push of the water against the paddles. I loved the sound of the brook laughing at us and singing to us. I loved the feeling of gliding through the water.

But the brook changed when it reached the Inner Forest. Instead of bubbling with laughter, it flowed sullenly onward, barely making a sound. It was darker here in the Inner Forest too. Lyri’s eyes reflected her worry into mine. I couldn’t help but reflect it back. Mighty trees rose around us, their lush crowns of leaves blocking most of the sunlight. Moss dripped from their arms and ran down their trunks. It felt like the attic, but different. Spookier. Our paddles silently churned the water. No one spoke.

Finally we docked at a small, flat rock to the side of the stream. We hauled the boat ashore, tied it to a nearby sapling, and set off on foot. I carried Petre on my back, and Lyri and Fiona walked close together. Everything was silent, as if waiting with bated breath.

Suddenly Anabelle stopped short and let out a piercing wail.

She had found Finn. He was bound to a tree, eyes closed in despair and exhaustion. He opened them when he heard his wife’s cry, but immediately shook his head and motioned us to stay away.

But he was too late.

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YIKES! Major cliff-hanger! That was really fun to write. 🙂

Since TIWC is over and The Dust Pixies, apparently, is not, I’ve decided to continue the series! *Everyone applauds* *Or maybe boos* I hope it’s the former. 😉

Thanks for reading, readers! XD

***Allison***

P. S. I got an Instagram account!

TIWC #5: The Dust Pixies, Part 5

September 29, 2016November 11, 2016 | Allison

Phew, I’ve been posting a lot of writing lately, haven’t I? When TIWC is over my posts should get back to normal again, so enjoy the writing while you can! XD

Are you ready to read another episode of The Dust Pixies? Grace, I used all three prompts and included “pencil” in my story.

Here’s an excerpt from the last chapter in case you need a refresher:

We all heard the lady dust pixie cry out eagerly, “Finn, is that you?”

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Lyri and I looked at each other in shock and excitement. Was this success so soon?

The door opened and the beautiful dust pixie I had seen inside stood before us.

Character prompt.:

She was slender but very tall, taller than any dust pixie I had ever seen. And she was also very, very clean. I didn’t see a speck of dust on her. Though her face was crumpled with grief, her eyes were lit by hope… which quickly faded when she saw who it was standing at the door.

“Oh, it’s not Finn…” she whispered, her turquoise-gray eyes downcast. But she quickly regained her composure, ran her fingers through her chocolate curls, and smiled at us – but just with her mouth, not her eyes.

“Hello, there,” she said in a falsely cheerful voice. “We don’t get many visitors in these parts. What can I help you with, children?”

I stepped forward boldly and extended my hand. “Hello, Miss! I’m Mae, and you are…” I cocked my head questioningly.

“My name is Anabelle Rose,” the lady said softly.

“You have a lovely name,” I said politely, and I meant it. “Actually we have come to find the person you were just calling… Finn, I believe?”

Anabelle Rose started. “You came to find Finn? Then they must have sent you after all. Oh, thank you so much, my dear ones! Do come inside and I’ll tell you all I know.” Anabelle Rose ushered us through the door and into the house of a dust pixie’s dream. All our mouths dropped open in unison at the splendor before us. Now that I was inside the house, the forest wall seemed even more surreal. I saw also that a cozy fire was burning in a small stone fireplace and that the whole house was lit by a complicated system of flaming candles.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Lyri breathed in awe. We silently nodded our heads.

Petre had flown over to a wall and was trying to enter the forest. He didn’t seem to be making much headway. Fiona flew over to him and tapped the wall. It sounded like cardboard.

“What is this thing?” Fiona asked.

“Oh, yes,” Anabelle Rose sniffed and smiled again – this time for real. “Finn did that for me. Aren’t they beautiful?”

We oohed and ahhed in reply.

“He cut those pictures from a magazine and glued them to the wall because I love the forest. I used to live there, you know.”

And in a split second everything was changed. I gasped. Oh my. Well that explained a lot: it explained why she was so tall, and clean… and beautiful. Anabelle Rose wasn’t a dust pixie at all.

She was a fairy.

And dust pixies hated fairies with all their hearts.

We had been at war as long as anyone could remember. We dust pixies hated the fairies’ wild, forest ways, and they hated our so-called “wimpiness.” Imagine disliking someone just because they had manners enough to live inside, in the dust like decent folk! And now one of these contemptible fairies stood before our very eyes. I’d never thought I’d see the day…

The worst part was, I had actually begun to like Anabel Rose – to feel sorry for her even! Well that would end now. My eyes became icy and I spoke coldly to my friend and siblings.

“I don’t think this fairy,” I spat out the word, “will be able to help us after all. Let’s go.” Lyri and Fiona’s eyes grew round with the realization of what I had just said. A fairy! Petre was too little to understand, but he whimpered when he saw our expressions.

Anabelle Rose caught my arm. “Wait!” she cried out, sobbing, “Wait! Won’t you hear me out? Won’t you help me?” Her voice fell to a whisper. “Please. Please help me,” she pleaded. “Let me explain.” When we didn’t move toward the door, she took a deep, shuddering breath and waved us into luxurious chairs by the fire. “Sit down,” she said, “and listen to my story.”

“I grew up as a fairy, it’s true, but I always wanted to see what the inside of a house looked like. I eagerly gleaned any little scraps of information I could from my elders about humans and houses… and dust pixies. But for the most part they turned away with faces of stone and refused to reply. One day I determined to find out for myself. I crept into a crack at the side of the house and wound my way through the walls. I ended up here, in this attic. I was awestruck by the mysterious human treasures this room held, and by its resounding silence, which was nothing like the constant rustling and bird songs of the forest. I poked around for a bit, but just as I was crawling back into the hole, I heard the sound of footsteps.

“It was a boy of some sort. He was awfully dirty, but I liked him, even then.” Anabelle Rose smiled a little at the remembrance. “I didn’t know that he was a dust pixie until he came closer to the box I was hiding behind. Then I couldn’t help but gasp. Instantly the boy was on the alert. He picked up a broken, pointed thing (a pencil, I later learned) and advanced slowly toward me. I was petrified by fright; I couldn’t move a wing.When the boy reached me he just as surprised to see a fairy as I had been to see a dust pixie. We stared at each other for a long time, unsure and uncertain. Finally the boy held out his hand.

‘My name’s Finn,’ he said. ‘What’s yours?’

“After that I often crept up the attic at nights. Finn would be there waiting for me with a candle stub glowing in his hand. Together we explored every inch of this attic. We learned so much from each other – I, about the ways of dust pixies, and he, about the ways of fairies. Gradually our friendship became stronger and stronger until it ripened into love. We were married one night as the full moon shone through the attic window…” Anabelle Rose paused with a dreamy look on her face. “Of course, my parents didn’t approve of the marriage one bit. They all but cast me from their family in fact. They said I was a traitor. Maybe I am. But I did what I had to do. I married Finn, and I still don’t regret it.

“But now he’s gone,” she said, the tide of tears rising once again in her beautiful eyes. “Gone, and I don’t know if he’ll ever return. Oh please, won’t you help me? I have no one else to turn to!”

I swallowed hard and glanced at Lyri. She nodded her head ever so slightly. I felt as if I were standing on a hill, looking out to sea, and about to set foot in a ship for the very first time. I had a feeling this journey would change my life.

“We’re in,” I said.

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Ooh, the plot thickens!

***Allison***

Beauty from Ashes, Part 3

September 26, 2016September 28, 2016 | Allison

I’m happy to present… part 3 of Beauty from Ashes! (Beauty from Ashes is a fairy tale mash-up of Cinderella and Beauty and the Beast. If you haven’t read the previous parts, click herehere to read them.)

Here’s a little refresher from the end of Part 2:

Beast reached out and held my trembling hands in his. My mind was racing. Why was he so anxious? He was frightening me. What was he going to ask me? I could think of nothing that qualified as “the hardest question of all.” He’d asked me everything, everything already. What was there left to ask?

Beast swallowed hard and looked me straight in the eye.

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“Ella…” he cleared his throat gruffly, “do you really, truly love me?” His face was intensely anxious as I gasped and turned pale.

Did I love him? Of course I did… or did I? During these past few weeks Beast had become my best friend in the whole world – my only friend, in fact. But he was, after all, only a beast. Could I love him despite his unkempt, shaggy fur; his frowning eyes; his gruffness and his wildness? Could I love him in spite of the hurt he had inflicted on me? I stood before him, my heart once more beating its wings against the bars, looking wildly for an escape, and I knew the answer.

I loved him with all that I was. I loved him completely.

It didn’t matter how terrifying he looked on the outside or how gruff and unfeeling he had been to me at first. Now I knew the true Beast. I could see the warm, loving heart that he had buried deep within a cold, protecting shell; I could see that like a diamond you had only to polish off a little bit of ugliness to find beauty inside him.

“I do,” I whispered. “I really, truly do.”

The Beast’s face flooded with a brilliant flash of joy, but the flash disappeared as soon as quickly as it had come. His face turned serious again.

“Oh my dear, sweet Ella. I love you so very much. But I need just one thing more. Remember how you gave me your shoe as a promise that you would return to see me?”

I nodded. I had nearly forgotten about that shoe in my happiness with Beast.

“I need you to give me something else to seal your promise. This time it will be easier. This time I only need a kiss.”

I drew back, alarmed. Did I really have to kiss his terrible face? My stomach churned at the thought. But I loved him. I could do this. I closed my eyes and inhaled the forest air, my mind whirling with memories of Beast, of our sweet friendship.

I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter and kissed him quickly on his rough, furry cheek. I drew back immediately. Something had not felt right. I blinked.

What had I done to him? I watched in horror as Beast reared to his full height, shuddered, shivered, and began shrinking in size. His massive head was growing smaller, his snout shorter, and his fur was disappearing. His ponderous paws were changing also: the toes were lengthening, spreading apart, growing nails instead of claws. His powerful body was losing its fur as well, turning gold and red and thinning to a smaller trunk. I stumbled backward and fell to the ground, hands over my mouth, eyes wide in unbelief.

Beast was gone.

But even more astonishing was what I saw instead: a young man clad in ornate clothing with laughing eyes and a smile that rivaled the sun in its brilliance. And he was smiling at me.

“Come, Ella, my dear one. I have some explaining to do.”

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Oh my goodness, that was so fun to write! I hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it!

I really like this story so far. 😀

***Allison***

TIWC #4: The Dust Pixies, Part 4

September 23, 2016 | Allison

Helloooo! I’m back with the fourth part of The Dust Pixies!

Grace, I used all three prompts and included “pencil” in my story.

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It was hard work to convince Mother and Father that I truly hadn’t gone looking for Rosalind, but that she had found me by accident. It was even harder to convince them that Lyri and I should go search for Finn. But finally my parents bent to my pleading.

“Yess!” I hugged my parents and flew circles around Lise in ecstasy. Adventure was my middle name, and this promised to be an epic one. (But seriously, my middle name really is Adventure. Petre’s middle name is Courage, and Fiona’s is Freedom. Dust pixies traditionally have those types of middle names.)

We’d determined the attic would be the best place to start our search. It was rarely frequented by dust pixies, which meant it was ideal for a reclusive orphan like Finn. We flew down the dim corridor in the wall, our excited whispers echoing off the cold stone walls. Suddenly we heard an echoing thud, then a scuttering sound of feet on the passageway.

“What was that?” Lyri hissed.

My heart leapt to my throat. I knew that sound: mouse. Mice are somewhat legendary creatures, for normally they’re even more scared of us than we are of them, but legend has it that when a mouse is trapped in a tight spot (like this corridor), they will fight for their lives. I wanted to keep the one life I had if it was at all possible.

I grabbed Lyri’s hand and raced to the corridor exit. Lyri’s hand was sweaty and trembling in mine.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” I assured here in a not-very-confident whisper.

We were backed up against the wall when we saw it. Or them. Two shadowy figures were creeping towards us, their eyes gleaming menacingly. Suddenly they stepped into a pool of candlelight and I gasped.

“Fiona and Petre? What are you doing here?” I was so happy that it was my siblings instead of mice I couldn’t even scold them properly.

Fiona said in a small, guilty voice, “We… we wanted to help you find Finn.” Petre sniffled, though in his case it wasn’t from guilt, it was from his unfortunate dust allergy.

I sighed, but Lyri whispered into my ear, “They can come, can’t they? We’ll have more people to help in case… well, in case anything goes wrong.”

I pondered this. Fiona and Petre wouldn’t exactly save us from a band of mice, but Lyri did have a point. “Okay, guys,” I decided at length, “let’s go find Finn.”

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“It’s spooky up here,” Fiona shivered. I agreed, but kept my expression as brave as I could.

Petre, on the other hand, was lost in the joys of a boy and his candle – sending flickering light to one side, then the other, then tipping the candle stub up and watching wide-eyed as the weak circle of light cut through the darkness. I couldn’t help but smile at his simple joy. At least he wasn’t scared.

The attic was a mysterious treasure trove, a haven for dust pixies. Cardboard boxes stuffed the place, heaps of magazines lay piled on the floor, pieces of trash and bits of fabric lay everywhere. Swiveling my head from side to side, I inspected what little I could see of the room for any signs of dust pixie habitation. Suddenly I stopped, and Lyri, Fiona, and Petre all crashed into me at the abrupt halt. The candle light snuffed out, and we where left in total darkness… except for the one ray of light that I had stopped for.

It was coming from a little hole in an overturned cardboard box. I motioned everyone to be silent, and we flew up closer to the mysterious beam of light. Now I could see that the light was coming from a keyhole in a tiny wooden door. Lyri caught her breath beside me and squeezed my hand. I squeezed her hand back.

But then Petre just had to sneeze, and the ray of light disappeared. I wanted to scream in frustration, but I didn’t dare. Why did my little brother have to come along, and why did he have to be allergic to dust of all things, and why did he have to sneeze right then?! I clenched my fist and took a few deep breaths. It’s okay, Mae. It’s okay. It’s not Petre’s fault he has dust allergies.

I fluttered over to the rest of the group. “Listen, guys. One of us should go look through that little hole in the door. We have to see what – or who – is in there.”

“I nominate you,” Lyri whispered with a small smile. Fiona and Petre nodded their solemn agreement.

I took a deep breath, hugged them all, and glided silently up to the door. Just as I reached it the light flicked back on. I heard a sound coming from inside the box – the sound of sobbing. I pressed my eye to the keyhole and tried not to gasp out loud.

What was this place? A lady dust pixie sat weeping softly, her head in her hands. Long, dark brown hair flowed down her back, crowned with a glistening headband, and she was cloaked in a beautiful, soft white fur. A luxurious matchbox bed was pushed into one corner. Short but perfectly sharpened pencils held up the large box which overflowed with soft wool quilts topped off with a fluffy cottonball pillow. A matchbox chest of drawers with button handles stood close beside the bed. Many other marvelous pieces of furniture met my eye, but the best thing of all was the walls. The whole room appeared to be inside of a miniature, misty forest of evergreens. My eyes couldn’t open wide enough to take in all of the wonders.

After a few moments the lady dust pixie arose from her seat and fluttered about the house, flying this way and that, still weeping. I had never seen someone look so lost in their own home.

I could barely tear myself away from the keyhole to call the others. They flew up eagerly, questioning me beneath their breath, but only I shook my head and knocked on the door.

We all heard the lady dust pixie cry out eagerly, “Finn, is that you?”

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Duh-duh-duh-DUN! 😀 That was a lot of fun to write. I hope you liked it, guys!

***Allison***

Sisters Q&A: Part 2

September 22, 2016 | Allison

In my last post I did a poll of what post to do next, and you guys chose… Sisters Q&A! So voila! Welcome back to Sisters Q&A part 2.

In case you’re new to this little series, here’s how it works: You guys have asked us questions, and Megan and I are going to answer those questions for the other person. We write our guesses separately, then combine them and see how many we got right. Megan won the first round; let’s see who won this round!

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Sarah

What is your favorite movie soundtrack of all time?

Guess: Maybe Frozen’s.

Answer: Ahh! I don’t know. Frozen has lots of pretty songs… well, they’re pretty until you get them stuck in your head for days. XD

Gracie

Would you rather have a wardrobe of only neutrals, or only bright colors?

Guess: Bright colors.

Answer: Bright colors. I don’t like black, gray is okay, and I love white, but I wouldn’t want to only wear those colors.

Favorite dessert?

Guess: Coconut cake.

Answer: I love chocolate things! *Slurp* There’s this one chocolate fudge crockpot cake my grandmother makes that is sooo yummy. I also like German Chocolate pie and Lemon Merengue pie… Ooh, and I love egg custard! And chocolate custard! Heh heh.

Cooking or baking?

Guess: Baking.

Answer: Baking, definitely.

Small, cozy house or large, regal mansion?

Guess: Small, cozy house.

Answer: It depends on how small and how large, but probably the small house. For one thing, it would take forever to clean a mansion. XD It just depends on what the houses where like, though.

What picture are you most proud of taking (if you have one)?

Guess: One of the silhouette photos she took of our friends and us on the barn roof.

Answer: I’m really proud of the ones I entered in the fair. Click here to see this year’s fair pictures, and here to see last year’s fair pictures. My favorite ones of all of those are the silhouettes, the snowflake, and the eye. I also really like this one:

Allison(snow, bookmark) 045.JPG — Brr, chilly!

Josie

Favorite room in the house?

Guess: Our room.

Answer: Our bedroom is definitely my favorite as far as looks and coziness goes, but I’m usually in the kitchen (it has the computer 😉 ), or the schoolroom.

Favorite book?

Guess: The MBS!

Answer: THE MYSTERIOUS BENEDICT SOCIETY!

Reading or writing?

Guess: Reading.

Answer: Hmm… I like writing when I’m in the mood, but probably reading.

Have you ever been over seas?

Guess: Nope.

Answer: Nope! But I’ve been to Canada.

What’s the weirdest food you’ve ever eaten?

Guess: Frog legs.

Answer: Probably canned octopus. 😛 It tasted okay, actually, just kind of like rubbery sardines…

What’s your favorite thing to do?

Guess: Photography, blogging, arts and crafts.

Answer: Blog/be on the computer, draw, or make stuff from polymer clay.

Olivia Bell (aka Livy)

What made you decide to start blogs?

Guess: I think Allison started blogging because I had a blog and my mom had a blog, and probably because it looked like fun. 😛

Answer: I think I started mine because Megan had one and it seemed fun. XD

If you could be an animal for one day, what would it be?

Guess: I don’t know what she’d be. A giraffe? Or perhaps a cat.

Answer: Oh, a bird! Then I could flyeeeee!

Flip flops or boots?

Guess: Boots.

Answer: It all depends on the season. In hot weather, flip-flops, in cold weather, boots.

Who is your favorite singer/band?

Guess: TobyMac… I think.

Answer: TobyMac!

CutePolarBear

What was your favorite birthday?

Guess: I don’t know. Maybe that year she had the paint-filled balloons that we threw darts at? Or maybe this year when we went hiking in the mountains. Probably this year.

Answer: I honestly don’t know. It was fun when we went fishing that one time…

What is your favorite brand of car?

Guess: She doesn’t really have one, I don’t think. If she had to choose, I think she’d choose Chevy. (But maybe Toyota…)

Answer: Uh… I like Toyota pretty good, but I’m not very learned in the ways of car brands. XD

Would you ever want to swim in an Olympic-sized pool?

Guess: Yep.

Answer: Sure!

Do you browse Amazon/eBay/some other selling website to find things you might like to buy in the future?

Guess: Not often, but maybe occasionally.

Answer: I don’t really browse it for fun, but I do like to look on Amazon when I want to buy a specific thing.

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I hope you had as much fun reading that as we had writing it! Wasn’t it hilarious how some of our answers where almost identical? (Well, in a few instances we changed our answer because we saw the other person’s guess after the fact, and agreed with them.)

So… are you ready to see the points? Megan got 15/19 right! She won this round by one point. 😡 XD

***Allison***

Sneak peek of future posts: The Dust Pixies, baby bunny pictures, and Beauty from Ashes!

TIWC #3: The Dust Pixies, Part 3

September 19, 2016 | Allison

Wohoo! I’m back with another part of The Dust Pixies, guys! 😀

Grace, I used all three prompts (in bold) and included “pencil” in my story.

Are you ready to hear the girl’s story (and find out her name)? I’ll add all of the parts to a new page in the “Stories” tab shortly. In case you need a refresher, here’s an excerpt from the last chapter:

“…Oh, I can’t believe it! I’d almost forgotten about that day!” She took a deep breath and continued in a calmer voice, “I’m sorry. Let me explain…”

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“There used to be six of them, but now only he was left. Finn had survived for two years without his family, living all alone in the dusty corner under my dresser.

(From Grace’s prompts. She said character prompt via Pinterest)

One night when I was four years old, Finn peeked out from under the dresser as I was laying in bed. The tiny movement caught my eye. I was extremely paranoid about mice and spiders and other such critters when I was little, and any little movement spooked me, especially at night. I tried to keep calm and summon the courage to go “squash the spider” with my bed slippers, but I was paralyzed with fear. When Finn saw how still I was, he thought I was asleep and decided it was safe to venture out. When the little whatever-it-was flew up in the air, I was so scared I couldn’t help but cry out. Finn immediately tumbled to the ground and scurried under the dresser, just in time to evade my parents who came running at my scream. They patiently searched under my dresser for the offending critter, but found nothing.

I tried to go back to sleep after that, but my pounding heart beat sleep out of my head. Finally I crept up to the dresser, wielding my fluffy slippers, and waited with trembling hands for the villain to appear. I had to wait quite a while, for Finn was very cautious – he had to be. When Finn finally appeared, I squeezed my eyes shut and slapped down the slipper. My eyes popped open when I heard a tiny yelp. This was no spider! I carefully picked up my slipper and peered at what appeared to be a moving blob of dust with wings. The wings were crushed. The dust lifted itself painfully off the ground and raised a terrified, tearstained face to me. I gasped in amazement. The so-called spider was actually a little boy! I clumsily picked him up in my chubby fingers and set him on my bed.

“Are you okay?” I whispered.

The boy with wings sniffled, but nodded his curly head. His dark eyes were wide with terror.

“Please don’t hurt me,” he murmured, “I didn’t do anything wrong…”

“I thought you were a spider,” I told him seriously, “but you’re not, so of course I won’t hurt you. Why, you look just like my brother, only lots and lots smaller. What is your name? My real name’s Rosalind, but it’s Rosie for short.”

“I’m Finn,” said the little boy, wiping the tears from his dusty face with his big jacket.

“Why are you so small?” I asked curiously, “And why do you have wings? Can you tell me how to grow wings? I want to fly too!”

Finn looked mournfully over his shoulder at his tattered wings. “I’m not small – you’re just big. And my wings aren’t really wings anymore. It’s a good thing your shoe wasn’t heavier or you would have squashed me!”

He looked kind of mad, so I said hastily, “Oh I’m truly sorry, Finn-with-wings. I’ll help you make them better. I can be a good nurse! Mama says I can, truly!”

And thus my friendship with Finn began. I smuggled him bits of food and gave him a lovely soft bed and plenty of furniture from my dollhouse. I tried to bandage his wings with a large band-aid, but Finn was firmly opposed that, so I gleefully stuck it on my arm instead.

A few weeks after I had met him, Finn disappeared. I never knew what happened to him, and though I mourned his loss quite lustily for a while (my parents chuckled over my distress about my “imaginary friend”), eventually other things took over my attention. I remembered him from time to time when I was older, but only as a misty destination on my rambling road of dreams. I never truly recalled those days with Finn until I met you, Mae. You set off a little spark in my head that wouldn’t go out.”

“So that’s my story.” Rosalind ended. “I wonder if Finn is still alive. I would love to see him again…” She propped her head in her hands and smiled dreamily.

Lyri, who had been trembling behind me until about halfway through Rosalind’s story, finally spoke up in a quavering voice.

“Excuse me, but maybe we can help. I don’t know of any “Finns” around here, but we can ask around.” I could tell Lyri had been touched by Rosalind’s story. I agreed with her.

“Of course! He could still be living under your dresser, right?”

Rosalind shook her head sadly. “We got rid of that dresser years ago. He could be anywhere… or nowhere.”

I was now firmly resolved to find Finn. “Don’t worry, Rosalind. We’ll hunt him down.” Lyri and I left her with a mission in our heads, a chewed up pencil in our hands, and a new friend named Rosalind in our hearts. Maybe humans weren’t so bad after all.

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I hope you liked that, dearest readers! 😀

Oh, and before I forget, I have entirely too many things to post and not enough time to post them. 😉 Would you like to help me choose? Which post(s) would you like to see next?

***Allison***