final

1. One continuous story I tend to write about is one about Jencie And Delilah. In Was this Just a Dream? Jencie first goes into this world full of color and excitement with wonder, thanks to a little flower. She continues to go back and fourth to this world for a while, but when she gets older, she stops. This kind of reminds me of the story Puff the Magic Dragon. Her imagination is fading away, yet Jencie remembers the wonder of it all and continues to tell stories to her children and grandchildren, so they would have a wonderful imagination, too. In Caged in a Storm, Delilah and her younger brother are scared and turned to their imagination and stories that Jencie used to tell them. This creates happiness that holds them together. In Scorched, Delilah's mind is starting to grow up. She is torn on the inside from so many bad incidents and is currently screaming on the inside, kind of like a person with PTSD. She tries to dream of the world she wanted. Jencie's world, but when she does, her fear, her older life tries to fight back in flames and terror. She makes it to her imaginary world, but there is almost like a "glitch" in her dream because her hair is charred. This signals the fact that she will not be coming back to her dreams many more times. Like I stated before, her dreams are becoming more darker, scaring her away from the bliss she used to have.
2. I'm assuming this includes other books I have read this semester. One of the books I have read are theScrewtape Letters. They are a collection of journals by a Uncle demon, Screwtape who writes to his nephew, Wormwood. They write about how to tempt people into doing the wrong things and what the humans are doing to stop the demons. Another book I have read was The Shaping of Middle Earth. It basically discusses the basic history of the geography of Middle Earth and talks some about the Elves and what part the Valar had shaping the Earth.
3. Through this blog, I have definitely learned that everyone does not hate my writing! I felt like my style is so different from what most people normally like, that they would not enjoy my writing at all. I was wrong. My mind tends to think about the more philosophical things of life using parables and stories that might seem creepy to some people, but they all have a much deeper meaning. My favorite author, Ted Dekker is like that too. He uses phrases like "the skin of this world" and "cleanse yourself in the waters so that you may be made new". I guess my title reflects off of Dekker's idea of digging deep into who we are as a person. Being able to notify the falsehood that is around us so that we are not blind to the evil around us. Dive deep then rise again with open eyes to see the reality under the skin of this world. I do not know who would want to read my blog. Perhaps people of the same mindset. Or people who just like reading stories with mo definite end, because in reality, no story has an end with no remaining questions. I may continue to use it. I may start a new one. I do not know yet.
4. There are a lot of things that is in my journal. Pretty much everything that we had to write about in class is in my journal. A couple of things I did go more in detail, like about the dream day we wanted where money is not an option. I honestly do not know who would want to read my journal. It isn't the most interesting. My parents might want to read it, but I tend to not let anyone read my work, with no exceptions. I might not use that exact journal to write in, but on my own, I do journal quite a bit. I do not write much about my life, but I write stories with made up characters in a world that is fiction that reflect my life and my feelings. I want to be a novelist to the extreme, even if I'm not a famous author like J.K. Rowling, I want to write stories for me and my family. But if my work does become popular, that would be a great bonus.
5. I will write out my perfect day. It is different than most peoples because they would spend a ton of money, but I just want a good, simple life for myself (in the future).
6:30-8:00 Wake up and take my kids to school.
8:00 drink tea and eat breakfast looking at the hills of Scotland.
8:30 run to the farmers market if it's open.
9:00 begin to write.
11:00 Take a break.
11:30 Eat lunch with my husband at work.
12:00-1:00 Meet with my agent and publishing company about my next work.
1:00-2:00 Work more on my book and edit previous work from another day.
2:00 Make some more tea and groom/feed my horse.
2:30 Go to pick up my kids from school.
3:00-4:00 return home and make sure my kids get started on their homework.
4:00 start dinner.
5:00 eat dinner with my family
5:30 Get ready to leave for conference.
6:00 Be at conference.
7:00 Speak at conference.
8:00 meet people and sign books.
9:00 go home and tuck my kids in bed.
9:30 get ready for bed.
10:00 Drink tea with my husband before we go to Narnia and ride unicorns.
10:30 Go to Narnia and ride unicorns.
10:31 Return home and go to bed.
6.My name is Jencie and this is my story.  Beyond the tall mountains and past great forests and streams, lay a little white flower on a soft grassy hill. This little flower does not stand more than a couple inches tall. It has five delicate heart shaped petals with specks of hot pink in the center but its scent is a warm vanilla and spice.

You Might be thinking, what is so special about this little white flower? You see, this is no ordinary flower. In this world we live in, very few people know of this flower. It is hidden from all who desire greed and power. Those very few people that know of this flower call it The Flower of the Mind and Soul or The Flower of Dreams.  I like to call it The Flower of the Way it Should Have Been. Call it what you want. It is one in the same. 

I picked the beautiful flower. When I did, the clouds piled up, blocking the sun and the wind picked up greatly.  I didn’t know what to do, so I just stood there. After a short moment, the wind died down and the clouds left as quickly as they came. I continued to stand there, trying to comprehend what just happened. All I knew is that I heard music playing. Upbeat music. Happy music.
I followed the sound. I walked down the grassy hill. A stream greeted me. I followed it downstream and was welcomed by a sight I never saw in my whole life. Colorful trees. They were all sorts of colors. Green, blue, orange, purple. Along with the music, I began to hear laughter from children. And sure enough on the other side of the stream, there were children no older than ten chasing butterflies with their hands up and their little feet galloping. Just the thought made me smile. There were women washing clothes in the stream, the children were most likely theirs.

Up in front of me lay a painted white bridge that went across the stream. I walked up to it and placed my hand along the railing. I slowly walked up as the bridge rose and walked faster as the bridge fell. I was under the colorful trees now. I had just realized how tall they were. I looked in front of me and saw little cottages. Because of the size of the trees, they looked to be houses of faeries. I walked closer to the village and the sound of the music still continued to grow. I could tell that the houses were made of straw as well as their roof and the doors. The cottages were still not very big. There were probably no separate rooms. I looked down and the floor turned from grass and dirt to a cobblestone road. Few people were on the streets. They all seemed so happy and walked to the beat of the music. I continued to walk down the road and the further I walked, the cottages grew in size and some were made out of wood. More people were further down the road. It all looked like I stepped back in time, one thousand years.  I still continued to scan the village. There was a blacksmith building, a jewelers, even a bakery.

“Would you like some poppy-seed bread, child? I just pulled it out of the oven!” The voice broke my thoughts.

Standing to the left of me was an elderly man with silver, stringy hair that was pulled back in a bun. He was not a plump old man, but rather fit for his age. He wore a manila colored apron that covered a brown tunic. I looked at his face and he bore a kind smile and shiny light blue eyes that smiled with his mouth.

“I don’t have any money, sir,” I said, holding my left hand up.

The man giggled and looked down for a second before turning his gaze upon me.

“Dear,” he said, “here, you don’t need money. Everyone that is a part of this place doesn’t need money. People can have as much bread as they want. Because I give out bread, I get a place to live and clothes on my body as well as protection from those outside. Who needs money when there are more important things to worry about? We are a family and we want to stay and work together. Take it, child,” Once again he lifted the bread towards me and smiled as if giving me the bread meant the world to him.

I took it and dipped my head, “Thanks.”

“Anytime!”

I continued my descent into the city. I glanced back at the friendly baker and he waved me goodbye.

People were gathered around four men and a woman. Two men were playing the fiddle. One was playing a guitar looking instrument, the other man was beating a barrel, and the woman was playing an instrument that looked like a flute. They were all assembled at the corner of a street that split in two. The people were clapping and singing an optimistic tune. I took the path to the right. Almost immediately after turning right, two men ran past me with knifes strapped to their sides. They ran through a doorway with a fence surrounding it.

I walked over to the fence to look in between the wooden strips. On the other side, there were both girls and guys, most likely no older than 25. Most were gathered to one side of the stadium. Some were sitting on pews overlooking the stadium.

I walked through the doorway that just a couple seconds before the two men walked into. I stopped walking when I was through the doorway and sat down at the pew that was right by the doorway. I was looking down into the field. Two men were fighting with swords. Were they soldiers? I continued to watch as they were stopped by two older men that looked like they were instructing them.

In that instant, I heard a horn. Arrows were flying from the trees and the people on the field moved almost instantly. They ran up the stadium seating and to the several doorways on the sides of the stadium. Was I supposed to go to?

I heard voices of the people saying things like “It’s happening again” and “bless the people of the village, bless our weapons”. I even heard one person say, "Grab the unicorns!"

“Come on, miss. You better be on your way,”

I looked up at this boy who was probably a little older than me, a sixteen-year-old girl. He offered me a hand. After a slight hesitation, I took it. His grip was strong. Together, we ran through the entrance. He led me a different way than the crowd of armed people were going to a house.

“I know you’re not from here, but you should be safe here,” his voice was kind. The smile upon his face made me think everything was alright, even though I had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Faster than I could think, he drew his sword out from his sheath and turned around. Aping sound was made. He was not fighting anyone sword to sword, he blocked an arrow.

I just stood there.

“Go,” he deflected another arrow off of his sword. He turned his face to me. “Just promise me you’ll come back,” the soft blown color in his eyes drilled into mine. I slowly shook my head.

I wanted to ask him what he meant by that promise. Was I about to leave the wonderful world I stepped into?

He winked at me then left. I ran into the house. It was a cute little house.

“In here!”

Two people with hoods covering their face ran towards the house that I was in. I crouched down behind the wall and placed my head in between my knees. My hands were shoved into my pockets of my purple laced jacket.

I felt something. Something was in my pocket.

The flower.

I took the flower out of my pocket and lifted my head to be able to see it. I smelled it. The smell reminded me of my grandparents’ house. I closed my eyes and hoped to get out of this sticky situation.

I heard a song. A whistle of a bird. I felt the wind. I opened my eyes. I was standing on the hillside I started out on. The city was gone. The colorful trees and the children chasing butterflies. But then a second after feeling bliss, everything went black.

The old rocking chair squeaked as Grandma slowly stood up.

"No Grandma! The story can't end there! I wanna know more. Who were the bad people? Who was that boy? What did you ever eat the bread? Grandma please!" 

The little girl jumped up and down to try to get Grandma to stay. She grabbed on to Grandma's night gown. Grandma turned around and bent down so she could be at eye level with her granddaughter.

"Delilah, the rest of the story, well that's for you to find out," Grandma smiled and looked up above her blackened fire place where a small glass frame sat on top of the ledge. There, in the small glass frame rested a little white flower.

7. I do plan on writing fiction on a regular basis. If I was not wanting to, I would not be telling you I want to become an author. I get pleasure out of writing creatively. It makes me feel happy, to imagine a life that I never had. It all feels so real to me. My writing is me and who I am without it, there is a part of me that is missing. The last question can be interpreted differently, I guess. I want to make creative writing my life, so it really does not differ. I guess the main difference between school writing and creative writing is that one has feeling and excitement and is meant to entertain and the other is meant to inform rather than entertain. 

8. I came into this class expecting this to be writing whatever I normally write. Nothing new, and I was perfectly okay with that. Though I am good at writing, I never, EVER, let anyone read my writing unless they were judges in some far away competition. Being able to post things on this blog was almost scary at first, knowing that my  work was out there for everyone to read. But instead of being intimidated by other people, scared that they would not think highly of me, I felt wonderful knowing that other people said so many nice things about my work. Everybody in this class has definitely boosted my confidence in my own writing abilities, and as for me only writing what I know, this class and everybody in here made me adventure in the writing world and try new things. Everybody here has written so many amazing pieces that completely blow my mind. It world be very sad if people stopped writing outside of this class. Keep on writing!

7. 

Open When...

I have heard of people doing this, so it is not 100% original, but if I wrote people something for Christmas, or any holiday, instead of giving them a gift I would buy in the store, I would do Open When Envelopes. If you do not know what that is, I would have a whole bunch of envelopes and write open when… you are having a bad day, or you get married. They can be whatever I want them to be. My sister got some from a friend, and they she loves them. Here would be some of my Open When ideas. I would personalize them to some extent, but here are the basics.

Open When…

You feel like giving up.

“Never give up on something that you can’t go a day without thinking about” ~Winston Churchill

Life is a struggle. Life will throw curveballs at you, it will humble you, it will attempt to break you down. And just when you think things are starting to look up, life will smack you back down with ruthless indifference.

The reason why most people never achieve their dreams is because they simply give up. Life was never meant to be easy. Remember that the times when it’s most important to persevere are the times that you will be most tested.

That’s why, whenever you feel like giving up, think about the consequences that will happen if you do. Think about you, your future, your own family. Think about the people who love you so much and never stop supporting you. The struggles only make the person stronger and more of an overcomer.

You need a hug.

I would write a little note like I did above, but I would also cut out hands and tie a little string to both ends. It’s a hug in an envelope!

You’ve had a bad day.

You cannot sleep.

Your first semester of college is over.

You feel overwhelmed.

You fall in love.

Both of us get married.

You’ve had your first child.

You feel stressed.

You move away.

You failed at a big task.

A relative dies.

You decide that Superman is your favorite superhero.

We have not talked to each other in a long time.

You just need a little hope.

It’s your birthday.

You feel beautiful.

You’re bored.

I’ll send some puzzles like a word search and some illusions to look at and of course, some funny pictures to look at.

Almost all of them will have some funny pictures and a note that will be personalized.

Revision #2

There is neither happiness 

nor misery in the world;

there is only the comparison

of one state with another,

nothing more. He who

has felt the deepest grief

is best able to experience

supreme happiness.

~Edmond Dantes

I love all these quotes, so I thought I would do my second revision on a thorough explanation on why I love these quotes so much.

#1. I touched on this quote a bit in some of my other posts, so I will not talk about this quote a lot. We as humans are so full of mistakes. We hurt and we stress and we worry. But those who live such extravagant lives need more than that in order to be happy. If someone lives on the street, they would be overjoyed to be able to live the life that the person is living even if it's just for one day. The people that know how it truly is to suffer will be more joyous when they get out of that suffering state.

  #2. "The battle over flesh and blood cannot compare to the battle for the heart." I believe the author meant this in a religious way, but one does not have to look at it in that light. But as a Christian, what lies on the outside does not matter. What only matters is if our heart and soul is in the right place. Whatever people believe in, most believe that there is some kind of life after death. As for Christians, we believe that if we love God and follow him with all of our heart, we will go to heaven forever. If we don't, we will not go to heaven. So, no matter if we are beautiful or ugly, or wealthy or poor, that will not determine what our heart and soul can.

 #3. "A single dream is more powerful than a thousand realities." To me, the world lives on hope. If there is not something greater for us in the future, why are we even living? It can be hope in an amazing vacation coming up or being reunited with a best friend. For a Christian, our hope is in a better life, in heaven. So to dream is to hope. When we dream, we dream of something better. Of a beautiful house, an amazing family, a dream vacation. We live off our dreams. We dream of a better future. That one dream is what life is made of. Without dreaming, the person (it seems like) is set on the bad stuff that is happening. The reality. "You want a job? I bet there is 200 people trying out for it. You have a .5% chance of getting that position." It just sounds so negative. That person shouldn't burst that person's dream bubble.

 #4. "Not to dare is to lose oneself." This quote is kind of hard to explain. The way I see it is one can't live a very interesting life without taking some kind of risk. That is not how this world works. If one wants to stand out in the world and be someone, they must take a risk. Some examples of this would be: applying for a job halfway across the country, going on a date with that one guy, saving a little extra money in hopes that one wont have to work over the summer so they can go on a vacation. If someone doesn't dare, they get lost in the chaos of the world, trying to live life in a recliner in a small house. 



 

Revised Piece #1

    The man, he hummed a quiet tune.

The world was young, the mountains green.

    No one around him to hear, just the moon. The moon at which no strain was lain until the stars above sat like a crown around the Earth. No words were brought from his mouth to the earth, but the humming continued all through the night.

    You see, that night was the last of his work. No business the old place had and no money, yet he was content with that in which he had achieved there in the past forty years.

    Dawn reached the earth so beautiful and rich with color that made the earth glow with pride and satisfaction. And it came with a new hum, more like a whistle. This one from the many glorious birds in the dense forest around.

    “Goodbye,” he said to the pumps and the store and the Pegasus. For a new journey in his life begun. An adventure. A spirit. A hope.

    With a satchel wrapped around his waist, he set off, into the forest and into the world. No place he needs to go, but everywhere he must.

    By light of sun and star and moon he walked, never daring to halt, never ceasing, and never looking back. And still, he hummed.

The world was fair, the mountains tall,

    And it was there he named the nameless hills and drank the untasted wells of deep, where he ventured far and wide and long. Not stopping until the Lord dare take him.

    Atop a hill, he peered in the great distance. The moon gleamed of red. And that morning came, in which dusk brought a red sunrise.

The blood of men was spilled that night.

    A shadow came upon the earth and lightning and thunder came with it, slashing through the sky above with a fierce and tempestuous attitude.  Fire and flame only started by a strike of lightning became its own person, causing anarchy in the forest.

    But still, the man hummed. He hummed with a new tone in his voice, those lyrics of hard and of dark powers that surrounded the earth in which people call home.

The world is grey, the mountains old

The forge’s fire is ashen-cold

And darkness dwells upon the earth.

    There comes a time when one has to end his journey upon the earth and begin a new one. Everyone reaches this point, including he. He lay on the mountain tall and closed his eyes for the last time and hummed.

But still the sunken stars appear 

Till I awake no more from sleep.

Found inspiration from Edward Hoppers painting 

And from JRR Tolkien's song, The Song of Durin

There he sat. The man.

The gas station man.

He sat on a hill

A green luscious hill that overlooked a city. The city with golden lights and shining walls. And in the center lay the Tower of The King.

This was his final destination.

The gas station man had reached his final destination.

A new adventure lay on the horizon surrounding the sparkling city.

He was ready.

This was the adventure he had been waiting his whole life for. Everything boiled down to this.

His hands grazed the grass as he stood up. With one foot gliding in front of the other, he made his way down to the city.

All around the birds whistled like he never heard before. Every pitch sang was so beautiful.

Going home, Going home,

I am going home

The man sang loud and clear for anyone with ears to hear and skipped to the city.

It’s not far, just close by

Through an open door

Work all done, care laid by,

Never fear no more

The gate was wide open, so in he walked.

It was not only the city that sparkled and shined, but his skin. It glowed with the power held within the walls.

But as he walked through the city, no people he did see.

As he made his way to the center, there lay before him the Tower of the King.

“Jack Lewis,” the city echoed with the voice brought from the tower.

“Yes?” The gas station man yelled his question.

“I see you have accomplished your journey, finished your adventure.”

“Yes. I have and was laid to rest peacefully.”

“And that you were. Though your adventure was finished for yourself, you must go back and finish the journey I have laid out for you, Jack Lewis.”

“What? I don’t understand. I had nothing left to do. I was old and frail. I did not have a job and the world around me was crumbling.”

“You see the physical side of humanity, of earth. But if you look with your soul instead of your eyes, you will see differently. I will see you again, Jack Lewis.”

“I don’t want to leave.”

With every blink of his eyes, the city dimmed. With every turn of his head, greenery appeared. The light was gone and the moon appeared.

And the gas station man hummed once more.

Roads Go Ever On and On… 

Thanksgiving feast!

I am going to describe what my dream thanksgiving would consist of (I am going off the idea that we did in class where we invited 11 people and had any food we wanted).
The table would be large and rectangle. I would want to sit at the head of the table so I am able to see everybody. The person who would sit at the other end of the table is Jesus. I would invite him because I have so many questions about the world and how stuff works that everybody debates and no body fully understands. I would ask him those questions so that I would know what really happened so long ago like on the beginning of the world and space. I hate not being able to know something. Now, I would be able to find out all those unsolved questions. The person that would sit to my right would be my mom. I would never forget my mom! The person who would sit across from my mom would be JRR Tolkien. I also have so many questions to ask him about Middle Earth and how the world ended up collapsing and on pretty much everything. He would be very cool to talk to. Sitting to Tolkien's left would be my dad. I could never forget him either. He is also a big fan of Tolkiens so of course I would place them beside each other. Sitting across from my dad would be Mr. Tumnus from The Lion and the Witch and the Wardrobe. I would invite him because of his friendly personality. He would also keep us entertained with his amazing music skills.
Sitting to the right of Mr. Tumnus would be Aragorn from The Lord of the Rings. He is one of my favorite characters in those movies. Aragorn is very wise and good with words and has an amazing son he could hook me up with. :) Across fron him would be My great grandpa James Harvey. He would be sitting by my dad just because before he died, my dad and him were very close. He also is an amazing story teller. I would to have loved meeting him and listening to his story about being a soldier in WWII. He was in Pearl Harbor and New Guinea and lots of other places. He would be a very cool person to talk to. Sitting on his left side would be William Wallace. I think he did so much for Scotland and is need of a good meal to make up for how much pain he suffered before he died.Sitting in front of him is Frank Hopkins. There is a movie about his life titled Hidalgo, but it is based on a true story. I love him so much. Where he is sitting, he is by Aragorn. Both characters in the movies are played by the same man, Viggo Mortenson. Viggo Mortenson is the definition of a Renaissance man. He is a painter, composer, photographer, actor, director, and a poet. So maybe I'll just have to invite him too! He'll sit on the other side of Frank. I dont know, He may have to fight Ted Dekker for that. Across from Viggo (or Dekker) would be my sister, Rachel. I could never forget her.
All I like is a traditional thanksgiving meal. I want a big turkey, green bean casserole, chunky mashed potatoes, stuffing, corn, pies of all sorts, and some salad, cornbread, honey rolls, and maybe even some Lembas Bread.
This is my dream thanksgiving. And no one can forget my little schnauzer begging at peoples feet!

I cant find pictures of any of my relatives.
Here, Have some Lembas bread.

My Cousins and I

There will always be people
who pass in and out of our lives,
but family never leave.
There I was,
surrounded by people whom I love.
My two cousins, Christian and Samantha.
This is how I wish it was all the time.
79 degrees,
few clouds,
and trees everywhere.
We were happy.
They were teenagers,
I was twelve,
They knew what they wanted to do in life,
I had no clue.
Samantha would go on to work with children,
teaching and playing with little kids,
But Christian was gone two months later
fighting his way through Iraq.
Leaving his family for the first time,
Protecting me and our family and our country.
I was young,
but I was old enough to realize that he may not return.

Millinium Photo

This photo is of a Marine who witnessed the breaking and the pulling down of a statue of Iraq’s president. I really like this photo. Some people around the United States disagree with America going into Iraq and fighting. But they killed many of us when they brought down the world trade towers. They killed innocent people. After, George W. Bush led us into Iraq. We fought and some died. We made gradual gains and had bases in the Middle East. We were making grounds. But then, President Obama came in and brought our troops out of the Middle East. For the families with loved ones across seas, they were now home and overjoyed. But we just pulled out. Many of our bases that men and women fought and died for were overtaken by our enemy. So does that mean they just died for nothing? They shed their blood for the enemy just to come in and take them again. This is absurd, especially since the Middle Eastern countries still despise America. And now America gave our enemy material for a nuclear bomb. First of all, why would the US dare to give the very people that kind of stuff if they almost WANT a war with us? My cousin was stationed in the Middle East and he is not happy at all. So that statue that we tore down in Iraq was for nothing. When I see this photo, I am overjoyed that we did this because it had so many good purposes. It HAD. Now, this has no purpose. Most of the photos on the website were of people helping other people. This photo definitely qualified, but now, the photo represents all the horror we put our protectors through for no reason.