As much as it tears at my heart to rip pages out of a book, this craft was calling my name. I used a book I will probably never read, and made flowers out of the pages. Then I used scented markers to color them. It took half an hour, and the results are pretty cool. So, stop and smell the roses! (Literally.)
Prompt:
You ruined me. I plan to return the favor.
My whole life I have dreamed of being an author. So on the day my first novel, “Jackson Rocket” was published I was thrilled. But the more people who read it, the more they hated it. The more they hated me. Only because the main character, Jackson Rocket is an airhead. An insensitive jock. People say he doesn’t deserve a happy ending. They say I’m an awful author. I’ve had my house TP’d and egged, and so much hate mail has plagued me for years, I’m sick of it. Jackson Rocket has ruined my life. So in my next book, I will end his.
So you may have noticed some changes in this blog over the past few weeks. The biggest change is the icon on the top of my blog page. I’d like to explain this icon and share a little bit about why it’s there.
I designed this icon myself, for this year’s National Book Festival. When I heard that theme was “I Cannot Live Without Books” I was beyond excited. Then, I thought it would be cool if I had a shirt with a logo for my website. So I drew a rough draft and a friend of my mom’s turned it into this amazing icon. Then my Grandpa uploaded it to the site.
I can’t wait to see if my t-shirt brings in more readers. If not, I will still be happy. Either way, I cannot wait for the National Book Festival.
Prompt:
At birth, everyone has the date they will die tattooed on their arm. You were supposed to die yesterday.
6.9.18. Those three numbers have stared back at me since birth. June ninth, 3018. The day I am supposed to die. I’ve learned to accept that I will be only 18 on my dying day. In fact, on June eighth I spend a whole day preparing myself for death. I hoped it would be quick, that it would be over with fast.
But today is June tenth, 3018. Obviously, I am not dead. But now I don’t know what to do. I had planned my whole life up until yesterday, because I knew that’s when it would end. Now I sit on my best friend’s couch, looking up at the ceiling. I hear her in the kitchen, making me some hot cocoa. She sits down next me and looks me in the eye. “Do you know why we get these tattoos?” She asks. I shake my head and sit up. “Well,” Milly begins. “I do. It is because Death likes torturing people. It’s sick, really. Most people die of natural causes, but every once and awhile Death assigns somebody to murder someone else. That’s why your date is so early.”
I stare in shock. I knew Death was real, but I never knew he was so malicious. “Who was assigned to kill me? And why would they do it?” I ask, hoping Milly knows the answer. She looks me in the eye and says, “Death forces them to. That’s why you didn’t die.” I give her a questioning look and she drops her gaze. “Last night, I tied myself to a chair so that I couldn’t go anywhere. Because Andrea…”
“I was assigned to kill you.”
Gravity Falls is an animated TV series on Disney XD, and it has captivated audiences across the globe. This show is a great balance of humor and mystery. It is an eerie, yet funny twist on classic animated shows.
Gravity Falls, created by Alex Hirsch, is about 12-year-old twins who spend the summer at their Great Uncle’s house in the woods. He owns a tourist attraction called the Mystery Shack, located in Gravity Falls, Oregon. In this town the twins make new friends, meet new people, and see some very unnatural things.
This cartoon takes animation to a whole other level. It is funny, charming, and has a balance of humor that appeals to all ages, It is also dark and mysterious. The creators leave you to figure out the mystery behind Gravity Falls, and it is a wild rollercoaster ride.
I’d give this show a 9.5/10. It may seem like a children’s show, but it is a fantastic series for all ages.
A shaky breath rang out over the field of dead and dying. The man rose to his feet and looked out over the field. Once a beautiful thing, with green grasses to spare, it now looked bare. Bodies littered the land, and the smell of blood filled the air. This was war. And he had started it. Was it his fault, that the rebels had been outnumbered so greatly by the Defense? Was it his fault, that the President hadn’t showed any mercy? No. And yet, while he lived the war would rage on. So he picked up a gun, and shot himself square in the chest.
Marissa coughed into her sleeve. Her shirt was covered in red dust, smeared with grime and grease, and smelled heavily of gun powder. Marissa slumped against the bathroom wall, her chest heaving in and out. Smoke fogged her glasses and screams filled her ears. The sky above was tinted pink.
World War Seven had been going on for thirty-seven years.
I’ve been thinking about music, and why musicians are so successful. Music speaks to people in ways nothing else can. You can find a song that fits every emotion. Anger, sadness, jealousy, passion, contempt. All of these feelings and more have been expressed in songs. I think the reason so many people enjoy music is because we feel like the musician is just like us. What do you think?
Over my vacation I read James Dashner’s hit novel The Maze Runner. I sped through it pretty quickly, and started combing the airport for the second book in the series. I loved this book (like most novels I read). It was action-packed, mysterious, with a hint of gore. I also felt very connected to the characters, who were deep but hilarious all in one. I cannot wait to finish the rest of the series!
I open my eyes, accepting that sleep is unattainable and a scene from a movie unfolds before me.
It is a sea of stars, a maze of bright lights, a shower of wonder and beauty.
A cool breeze floats through the tent, and I feel at peace. Snuggled in a sleeping bag with the Milky Way above me, I finally have the key to sleep.
A cool breeze, a clear mind, and a warm heart.
Dazzling lights and skylines.
Lakes and sunsets too.
Waterfalls, mountains, are to come.
Skies of pink and blue.
But for now we hit the hay
For we are tired and worn.
And we lay our heads in Omaha.
The city of lots of corn.