Blogger Invasion Blogfest: Late, but Here

So I totally forgot I signed up for my sis' blogfest so here it is, late, but here.

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Zombies. I knew it not just by the smell, but because they were lurching, and decomposing and well… It’s just pretty obvious. I hunkered down behind the over-turned couch and looked over at the two people on my left.

“Ready?”

The first one, Palindrome, cocked her gun and nodded. “Ready.” An evil grin spread over her face and I was suddenly intensely glad I wasn’t a Zombie. “I’m just about… Shhh,” the other one, Falen, pulled at her aviator cap and shushed the little yipping dogs next to her. “Yvie!” Then she turned and pulled out a strange looking steam-powered device. “Ready.”

“Me too!” I turned to look on my other side, at Rose, a short girl with not-blond hair. She held up a Spake knife and grinned. “This should work on Zombies too.”

“And I’ll use my Karate-chop-action-skillz,” Sonshinemusic said, because despite being sunny and bubbly she also has mad skills.

“Okay, just be careful.” I held in a short breath. “Okay, on the count of three. One, two…”

“NO!” Mia shouted, rushing into the room, trailing a stream of sparkles in her wake. At first I didn't know where the sparkles were coming from, until I saw Tessa dancing behind Mia, a huge grin on her face, waving a bucket of glitter labeled 'Zombie Stuff.' The Zombies stopped, staring at the glitter like dolts. “#Zombiesaren’tevil #youshouldtotesnotkillthem.”

I stared at her, awed by the genius of hashtags. But then I shook my head. “These ones are evil! I know because they are ruled by the Zombie Queen Joan Crawford, and those zombie kittens belong to Evil Blam. They must be destroyed!”

"I think Thor agrees," Amalia said, nodding her head. "He doesn't like Zombies. They get glitter everywhere, and everyone knows glitter is my arch nemesis."

“Wait!” Laura Marcella came dancing in, holding a book above her head. “I know there’s a quote in here somewhere that will solve this problem.” Palindrome sighed noisily, probably distressed with the thought that she couldn’t shoot anything. One of Falen’s dogs went over to sniff one of the Zombie kittens, and Rose went over to poke one of the Zombies.

“Hehe… It feels funny,” Rose burbled.

“Here,” Laura Marcella pointed to something in her book, and I peered over her shoulder, curious. “In order to stop Zombies from being evil, one must give them Rubber Duckies to feed upon.”

“Weird,” said I.

“That #rockssocks!” said Sonshine.

“I have ducks!” said J.M. Neeb, appearing out of nowhere. He threw a couple of Rubber Duckies at the Zombies, who ingested them readily, and the Evilness drained straight out of them. “Hooray!” we all shouted happily, except Rose who didn’t think the story was violent enough.

“I think I’ve forgotten something,” I said, and suddenly the front door opened and all my bloggy friends came tumbling, prancing, and walking primly in. We started a whole sha-bang of a party, Zombies and all.

--

Yay! Hope y'all enjoyed. I'll try to get around to anyone else who did this blogfest. Oh! And if you want to write one, go ahead. It's okay if you're late or whatever. I was, so I don't think it's a huge deal. This is mostly about having fun and showing love for fellow bloggers (my lamnams!) Anywho...

Conflicted

Recently I received the ARC for The Replacement by Brenna Yovanoff.

Two Things:

a) I love, love, love it

2) It made me really, really upset

Why?

Love:

1) It is well written and intriguing and just gorgeously ugly sometimes. Didn't think that was possible? Well, it is.

b) It has a male protagonist. What? YA urban/paranormal fantasy with a male main character? Yes. It is SO refreshing. Plus, the love interest, Tate, is not your usual "Rescue me from the evil monster!" *cue fainting* but she's hardcore. I love it. Sure, maybe Mackie isn't the strongest character in and of himself, but he's real, he's not flat, and he has an actual personality. Isn't that fantastic?

c) Brenna adds a whole new spin on the whole Other Worldly things that made me all happy inside.

Dislike:

a) The language. Now, I know for some of you you're probably rolling your eyes around and getting ready to throw rocks at me for being a stingy, Christian, self-righteous bigot. Hold yourself together, and just listen a moment (which, as far as I know, all of you who read my blog are really good at listening and letting me explain my view on things, which I am super glad about. It's SO fantastic that we can have different views on things and none of us get all angry as beavers over it)

Anyhow...

I don't like language. Sometimes I can understand why it's used, and sometimes in the book I could give reason for it and could be okay with it, but sometimes it was unnecessary (in my mind). The problem with cursing is it's not creative, a huge part of the time. There's one thing to use it is as characterization, but another just to have it there. And my question is, when did it become okay in our society to use language like that? It used to be unprofessional, and not in younger aged books. But now teens curse, because that's what they learned from their parents, and what they expect from their bosses, and I never signed up for that kind of society.

So despite enjoying this book immensely there are some people I am not comfortable asking to read the book. And I will still tell them I loved it, but it will always be with a caveat, that there is some heavy language in it at parts.

So for those of you who are okay with language I would say go out and pre-order it because I think you'll love it.

So what about You? Does language bother you, do you only like it when it's used to make a point, or do you not even notice it? I'm curious to hear what y'all have to say.

The Super Sister Contest!!! :D

In honor of our birthdays the sis (Rebecca/SonshineMusic) and I are having a...

SUPER SISTER CELEBRATION CONTEST!

It will be Amazing. It will be a two-parter. The writerly Contest will be done over on her blog, and the normal ol' simple drawing one will be done over here. So here are the rules for the Contesty stuff for this part of the contest:

2 Winners!!!!!! YESH!!!!

To enter here are the easy-shmeasy rules:

1 - be a follower of both Rebecca's and my blogs. Please be our LamNams! :D

2 - You don't have to, but you can blog/tweet/facebook/whatever - - Rebecca said that SkyWriting will get you like, an armadillo or something. You can also do smoke signals,

in which case, I will die from excitement.

c - BE EXCITED!!!! This is, after all, a Contest, and who doesn't Love Contests?? Plus, it's so Super Easy even a Spake could do it! Okay, okay. I was going to try not to mention those things, but anyway...

d - Also, please let me know

a) What your favorite herb is

b) What your fav color/pattern is (like, if your fav pattern is pine trees or flying monkeys, I need to know that. Or if your fav color is plaid. Important stuff.)

5 - This will get you Absolutely Nothing, but if you would like, let me know which you would rather have as a pet, a Moose, a Duck, or an Avocado.

Now onto the PRIZES! *does a happy dance*

WAIT. I wasn't nearly Excited enough yet, because my Face is Asleep. Like This:

Don't I have Mad Drawing SKillz??

NOW I am awake. And Excited.

Okay. HERE are the PRIZES:

2 People will win:

Crazy for Chocolate - Who doesn't love chocolate? And if you're one of those weirdos who doesn't, it could make a Lovely Mother's Day/Birthday/Arbor Day present

Be Happy That... by Melissa Heckscher, Jordan Burchette, and Pat Mellon - This book is Hilarious, and is being used in the Other Contest Part, that Rebecca is in charge of. Trust me. It's pretty Amazing.

PLUS:

Your choice of a packet of herbs, like these:

Or Tarragon, or Oregano, or Others. There are so many possibilities!!

And I'll make you your very own Mini-Pillow.

But wait! There's more:

For whoever can find the most Unique way to let others know about this Contest there is a Special Prize:

An Owl Key Hanger - What could possibly be cooler?

Broken by Karin Slaughter - I met her at BEA and guess what?...

Yuppers. It's signed.

So go on. Enter the contest with a simple comment below, find an Ingenious way to promote to Super Sister Celebration Contest, and you just might WIN! :D

It runs from Now This Very Instant until August 27th. THEN, while we figure out the winners, we'll let ya'll know.

P.S. Psst... Her birthday is the 31st, so make sure you run over and embarrass her on her birthday. ;P

P.P.S Here are some bannerly things Rebecca made for You:

P.P.P.S That's All. No. Really.

P.P.P.P.S Okay. I'm a liar. Don't forget to enter the other Half of the Contest over HERE.

Well, So Much for Keeping it a Secret

Yup. It's my birthday. I was going to be all *hush hush* about it but Someoe decided to post it on her blog *shakes head at Rebecca/Sonshine* and then another someoe posted it up on Facebook *shakes head at Claire/Co-Worker* so the Cat's out of the bag as they say.

Huh. People say weird things.

Oh! Today I am writing with a sparkly purple pen! It's amazing.

Oh, and the aforementioned Claire bought me caffeinated sugar coffee. I haven't had caffeine in I don't know how long, so... I'm on the verge of running around the parking lot squeeling.

BUT that's not the point of this post. The point of this post is... Um... Write about things that I get to do now that I'm 21.

1. Find a good excuse not to drink liquer/alcohol. I'm trying to decide if I should lie and say I'm allergic (but lying's bad) or if I should laugh at the absurdity at the thought. I already can't walk in a straight line, I often slur my words, and speaking coherantly can cause me issues. So... Alcohol? Not a good idea. I also am thinking about staring at people and explaining to them that my grandma was an alcoholic, and I'm Terrified of that happening to me too. If I could cry on demand, this would be perfect. Any other ideas?

2. I can drive with my soon to be sixteen-years-old brother. This is very important to my brother. Because he'll be able to drive with just me in the car, and no parents. In fact, I believe he's more excited than I am. About turning 21, not the driving part. I trust him. Plus, he knows if he breaks anything he's totally paying for it from his pocket. Or from his bank. I doubt he has money in his pockets, though he probably has other, scarier, things in there. Like... dirt, fuzz, and day old french fries. ;P

3. I get to be kicked off of my parents insurance. Aw, what a thoughtful birthday present. *grins* Now I have to find a way to Never get sick Ever. I'm scared of Hospitals already anyway, so this shouldn't be hard to do.

4. I get to pay off my school debt (okay, this isn't directly correlated to turning 21, but I'm running out of things to say.)

5. I got to pay the government 80 bucks and 50 cents to get a new license. Again, awww... Just the birthday present I was lookig for. I Lurve giving the government my money.

5. Erm... I get to... be... Human? Um... Okay. I get to run out of ideas.

So that's pretty much all, my LamNams.

A Big Giant Hug and Thank You for everyone who wished me a Happy Birthday. I love you guys! I talk about you as if you're "real people" and people look at me strange. But seriously, for reals, you guys are Amazing and Encouraging and all that *hugs* Thank You for being Awesome!!

Mia's Amazing Contest!!

Mia is having a contest and I meant to tell ya'll earlier because it is super cool, but the Sis and I were working on this:

Zombie Kittens!!

So... It took me a little while to get everything squared away.

But Quick! Before it's too Late! Go enter her Contest...

Wheeeeeeeeeeee...

*Update:

The Story of the Zombie Kitten

Once upon a time there was a Zombie Kitten. He looked like a regular Zombie Kitten. He had decaying, grey skin, and pale white eyes, and a little pink tongue, and sharp little teeth. However, he was not an entirely normal Zombie Kitten. This Kitten, named Zomg, liked brains like all the other Zombie Kittens, but he also liked jam. All kinds of jams. He liked blueberry jams, orange jams, strawberry jams, brain jam... He even adored a good marmalade.

Everyone made fun of Zomg. They said he wasn't really a Zombie Kitten at all, that he was just pretending. Feeling awfully sad, Zomg lyrched dejectedly away from the group of Zombie Kittens who were calling him nasty names, and he found a good willow tree to hide under. He thought it appropriate, because Willow Trees represented crying, and that was exactly what he felt like. Crying. He didn't want to be called a wuss, or an Un-Real Zombie Kitten, so he sucked in a breath, and was just about to strut proudly back out of the hanging branches of the willow tree when...

"Oh my pleasant tailfeathers, I thought you were a flying monkey."

Something fell out of the tree, landed in front of Zomg, and started talking straight at him. It was a strange looking kitten, all white, faintly sparkling, and with fang-like teeth.

Zomg tilted his head. "You don't have tailfeathers, and how in every grave did you think I was a flying monkey? I don't have wings and..." Then Zomg gasped. *GASP!* "You are a Vampire Kitten!" Zomg screamed.

"Well, of course," said the Vampire Kitten. "My name's Edwardio III, and sometimes people think I'm a frog, because I like to paint myself green late at night. What's your name?"

"Zomg," Zomg said quietly, not sure what to think of such a strange creature. But Zomg was an honest creature, so he decided to sputter out: "I like jam!" He figured that painting oneself green was much less odd than liking jam.

"I like jam too!" squealed Edwardio III. "We shall be best friends!"

And so they were. Edwardio III would paint himself green while Zomg would try a new jam, and they had the most lovely time together. The End.

(Weird. Nobody died 0_O)

The Death Scene You've Been Waiting For

Today is Blogfest day!! *whistles and throws confetti in ecstasy* And in honor of the day I have this LINK to a blog post I read the other day about death, that I thought was particularly interesting. Plus there's this LINK to the list of other people doing blogfests. (At least, I hope it is. If not there will be trouble.) Just so you know, I will be in Canada over the weekend to attend Polaris, so it will take me a few days to actually get around to reading everyone else's stuff, but don't worry. I will.

Carrying on!

At first, I was going to just take a scene out of my wip's, but then I realized that all of my deaths are way too important, and would give away Huge plot moments, and I wasn't comfortable doing that. So I hemmed, and I hawed, and Cyan hopped out of the blue and attacked my face with ideas and out came this really bizarre little scene. I hope you like! (Oh, and just so you know, critical comments are welcome. As long as you're nice about it, I'm fine. I like to learn how to be better, so...) Oh! And I couldn't think of a name for the one girl, and the only one I coud think of was Tess, because of Tessa, so I named her after Tessa (sorry about the way your character... Well, you'll find out.)

“Hello.” Cyan hopped into the kitchen, waved profusely at my friend (his name don’t matter). Then she grinned. “Good-bye!” With a small twist of her wrist the knife was in his body, and then it was out. His eyes bugged wide and his mouth made a desperate attempt at talking. Didn’t last long. Soon he was on the floor, as dead as the others I had watched her kill.

She proceeded to try and check her reflection in the knife, but it’s hard to do that when a knife is still dripping with fresh blood. Cyan frowned a little bit, brushed off the knife on my (dead) friend’s already ugly shirt, and then fussed with her perfectly curly, way too blonde, hair.

“Hey, Cyan. Was that necessary?”

She gave me a quick glance, her eyes widened. “Oh, Fred, I didn’t see you.” I hate it when she calls me Fred. She knew it too. “How awful.” Way too quickly she was standing next to me, smelling faintly of lavender and peppermint, a heady mixture that I don’t like none.

“You gotta’ keep killing?”

“Of course.” She laughed, like I was some awful comedian and she was some polite person trying to make me feel better. I don’t think it helped. At all.

“Jus’ don’t touch Tess.”

“I touch who I want,” Cyan whispered, gave me a peck on the cheek while brushing her knife against the other side of my face. One cheek was left with lipstick, the other one with blood. “Don’t forget it. Buh-bye!” She waved and flounced outta’ the room. I glared at her.

Always left me to clean up her messes. It took a darn too long time to find a proper place to hide the body she had left behind. And by the time that was done, it was too late to meet Tess. I hated Cyan, but I guess that’s just repeating the obvious, isn’t it?

And I would’ve gone on hating her, and hating her, and not doing nothing about it. Until about three weeks later. Now, I can’t go into detail about what Cyan is, or even why she does what she does (mainly ‘cause I’d be killed and I ain’t a fan of me being dead) but I can tell you this. We’ve been friends a good amount of time. Sure, we don’t particularly like each other, but that don’t stop us from being on friendly terms. I left her friends alone (a’ course, she didn’t have many, but was that my fault?) and in return I expected the same favor.

I forgot. She don’t have no brain in her messed up little brain.

It had been a long day of working for the bosses (again, can’t tell or I’ll be offed) and I opened Tess’ apartment door. I was all ready to here about her day, to cuddle up next to her while we sipped at hot tea (for her) and coffee (for me). Sure, it don’t sound like something a tough guy like me would like, but shut yer trap and open yer mind. Tess did that to you. And I’m still man enough to torture your face off, so don’t breathe a word or your fingers will end up in dome garbage disposal device.

I kicked off my shoes at the door, since she liked her carpets to be clean and all. And I called out, “Hey, Tess, Rick’s here.” (My name’s Frederick, but most everyone calls me Rick, ‘cept Cyan but you already know she’s whacked out and hates me, so no need to repeat, right?)

She didn’t answer, which wasn’t like her at all. I knocked on the wall by the kitchen, ‘cause she was real particular about the kitchen, and always ragged on me about how I had to knock first, or else she’d jump from surprise and knock herself out with a pot. So I did. I knocked and then I stopped because I saw Tess, and she wasn’t knocked out from a pan, or nothing. It was worse. Much worse.

She were dead.

Blood was dried and matted around her pretty lil’ head, her face was more white than brittle ice, and her eyes were open and staring at me like little glass marbles.

I knelt to the ground, whispering her name, lookin’ like some mangy of a mutt. It don’t matter. Nothing did right then. I crawled over to her, pulled her into my lap, got blood all over my ratty jeans, and I wouldn’t stop muttering her name. She didn’t answer none. It’s hard to, when you’re dead. I blubbered like a cow, still didn’t matter none.

But then I saw how she had died. It wasn’t the head wound, that musta’ come before, ‘cause it wasn’t deep enough to have killed her. There was a hole in her stomach, the same shape as Cyan’s knife.

I was going to kill that good-for-nothing daughter of a would-be thug. But first I had to clean up Tess, wrap her up in one of her brightly patterned afghans. Then I buried her, and tried to cry over her all proper, but all my grief was gone and I only wanted one thing more.

Revenge.

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Loglines

The other day I was thinking about loglines for my story.

Yes, yes, I know I don't even have an agent yet. What's that? I'm not even published. Pshah. Whatever. I have way too much of Amarilla's personality running through me right now to worry about that. (No, she's not another personality of mine, she's a character so shut up. See?! I tell you, she's all over the place. I would never normally tell you to shut up, but there I did. Blah.)

So instead of trying to edit my book so I can query it. (Which, by the way, I am dying to do, because I just found the most amazing literary agency ever, and I am dying to query the one dude because he is awesomesauce, and I'm hoping desperately that he'll actually like my book. No. LOVE my book, and want to publish it all over the world, but I'm not ready yet, and I'm cursing that fact. Of course, I shouldn't be blogging, so that I can fix that problem, but, ah, well.)

Oh. I wrote a fragment up there, didn't I? Sorry about that. As I was saying, instead of trying to edit I was trying to come up with loglines. Most were stupid and pathetic, like this:

If you think being stalked is a fantastical dream of floating gossamer strands, try being followed by Obadiah spake-man, and you'll change your mind faster than it takes a potato to rot on a windowsill.

Or...

Scotch is a person, not an alcohol, and she does not like being stalked by Spakes, even if she needs on particular Spakes help, and even if without that one particular Spakes help, her two best friends will surely died a horrible, horrible DEATH!

Or...

Scotch and Obadiah are not in love, you freaks! ( <-- Scotch wrote that one herself. Or at least, she would've if she was real.)

Or...

Once upon a time there was a Spake, then Scotch came along, and the world ended. (Not only is this one awful, it's a lie)

Or...

Forget about peanut butter, Scotch and Obadiah end up in situations much stickier, and much less yummilicious.

Or...

Vampires are over-rated, and Spakes have never been written about, how many people can I offend in a one sentence, run-on, fragmentary, logline that doesn't make.

Or...

(my personal fav, as well as Amarilla's)

Scotch is being stalked (creep!) by a mythologically real creature (a Spake) and she needs to learn to trust him (yeah, right) before her friends are brutally wounded.

They are so much fun! But now I feel bad, because I really need to edit. *sigh* Fine, I'll go be boring. Have loads of fun without me, okay?

*scampers off*

*scampers back*

Here's PIE!

It's Pecan Pie CAKE! :D

*is famished*

*must eat*