Jimmy Dearest, Part One

I found this little one sheet play tucked away inside my writing files, that was based on the people in my sixth grade elective art class, and chalk filled with inside jokes I absolutely don’t get now. I think I wrote it for their amusement, and I remember them being amused.

Scene 1

Corky: Well, we’re finally here. [I was Corky. I told my art teacher my name was Corky--Think R.L. Stine’s Fear Street Cheerleaders--and went by it for that 9 weeks period--My real name‘s Michelle. And Amanda told her teacher she was Kimmy. It was kind of awesome.]
Marina: Yippy yippy.
Corey: Great! These speedo’s are killing me.
Daniel: Well, why are you wearing them?
Corey: Well, why are you wearing a tootoo. [Yes, even as a former wannabe Princess Ballerina who explored the forests of Egypt, I didn’t know how to spell tutu.]
Daniel: Because I’m better than everybody else. I make the world a better place wherever I go.
Lindsey: Look what I brought.
Corky: An ax! I brought one too. See!
Marina: Wonderful! I brought one too.
Lindsey: Nice dress.
Marina: Thank you. I designed it myself.
Daniel: And I think I know where you got your design.
Marina: Funny!
(She punches him)
Corey: I think Marina’s in love--
(Then she punches him)
Lindsey: Well, let’s go find a place to set up camp.
Corky: Yeah let’s go.

Scene 2 (everybodies sitting around the kamp fire)

Corky: I brought something for everybody.
Lindsey: What did you bring?
Corky: Ketchup [There’s a story here.]
Daniel: Of course.
Corky: There for all of you, for good luck. Now let’s tell ghost stories. I’ll go first. Well a long time ago.

* * * * *

The end. Yeah, I don’t get it, either. If anybody wants to hear the embarrassing anecdote about the ketchup I’ll tell it. But anyways, onto bigger and better things.

My first horror story. Jimmy Dearest. This was “inspired” by Fear Street books such as Switched and the MTV cartoon The Maxx. In The Maxx there’s a character named Sarah who I was very taken with. She was a loser outcast with long dark hair and big thick glasses with only one friend and wanted to be a writer. Her father was dead and her mother was kind of a cook. I wonder why I related to her so well. *snort* But instead of Amanda she had Jimmy for her best friend. Sarah and Jimmy could have also been shades of the Sarah and Jimmy in Any Way the Wind Blows, which you’ll get to read eventually, you poor souls [And as you can clearly see, I liked the names Sarah and Jimmy.]. This was also my first time trying out 1st person narrative. I tried to write in the style of Fear Street, so be prepared for very short cliffhanger chapters.

Jimmy Dearest
Written May 1996
Age 11

Prologue

I am quite an ordinary girl. With ordinary brown hair and brown eyes. I’m no beuaty. But Jimmy thinks so. And that’s because Jimmy’s weird. I don’t have many friends. Jimmy’s my best friend. I guess because we’re both outcasts. From what I’ve said so far, you probably thinks this is the most boring thing in the world [Not after you’ve read The Tie That Binds]--But trust me, it’s not.

My story begins at about a year ago. About a girl, who’s name was Sarah. I will tell it to you now. . . .

Chapter 1

“Damn!”, I muttered. “I forgot my homework on the coffee table.”

“You’re going to be in deep shit, Sarah,” said Jimmy, “this is the third time this week. You really should do your homework more often, even I have it.” [Doesn’t he sound dreamy… And it seems I need to have at least one character in every story that is excessively profane.]

I hate it when he ridicules me like this. Does he really believe he’s so great? Why do I even have to ask myself that? The answers obvious of course. Yes.

“Well sorry O-great-and-powerful Jimmy,” I said sarcastically, “I guess no one could be as great as you.”

“I didn’t mean it that way Sarah,” he said apologeticaly. He really did sound sorry but I’m to smart for his stupid act. So, I just left him standing at my locker, and went to class. Strangely enough no one was in the classroom. [That’s a sure sign something’s wrong, right?]

[By the way, some dumb shit back in sixth grade stole my notebook and passed it around the class. They drew all over it and went through and with a black marker put a dot in every round letter, like a’s and o’s, which makes it really hard to read. Did I mention I was an outcast? I don’t know if I’ve yet made that clear.]

As I stepped in I noticed a red puddle on the floor, behind the desk. I walked over to see what it was. If I had known what was on the other side, I wouldn’t have looked, but it’s too late to change that.

I walked over, and then saw the most frightening scene any one could ever see in life.

Chapter 2

A corpse.

A bloody mess of organs and muscle, and tissue. A bloody mangled mess. I took a step back. Right into another puddle of blood. I slipped. Hit my head on the wall. Fell right on my but into another puddle of blood. But this time there was something squwishy in it. I couldn’t move. Things got dim. Dimmer. Still dimmer. Black. [Umm…yeah. I was clearly a mentally healthy preteen.]

Chapter 3

I woke up in a room I didn’t recognize. Jimmy was standing above me.

“Where am I?”, I choked out in a hoarse whisper.

“Your in the hospital,” he said to me. “That fall you had gave you a pretty nasty bump.”

“Who was that guy?”

“What guy?”

“The guy that died.” [What other guy could she mean?]

“That was Mr. Wain.”

“Omigod.”

“Yeah, and how did you get blood all over your ass?” [Because that was the only thing he was checking out.]

“I fell into blood?”

“Yeah.”

“Excuse me,” a voice said behind them us. [Still working on this first person thing]

“Yeah,” Jimmy said eagerly.

“It apears Miss Devens has only a minor cancussion,” he replied. I hate when doctors adress their patients as Miss or Mr. I really hate it.

“When will I be released,” I asked in a voice a little above a whisper.

“Tomorrow probably. Young man.”

“Yes,” Jimmy said once again.

“Visiting hours are over.”

“I’ll leave.”

And he left.

Left me all alone. [Where are her parents? She has a concussion and is being kept at the hospital. Shouldn‘t they be around somewhere?]

Then the doctor left. And turned of the light behind him.

Then I was alone in the darkness.

All alone.

It swallowed me up. Surrounding me at every angel.

I felt tired and hungry. And scared. There was something out there in the darkness. Something that was waiting for me to fall asleep. Something that wanted me.

Yet I still felt tired and hungry. The hunger I could ignore. But not the tiredness. I was so tired. I didn’t want to go to sleep. I was afraid of the thing in the darkness. I had never wanted Jimmy by me so much as I did then.

But in the end of this rediculas struggle I had, the other side won. . . .

* * * * *

I know, I know. It looks as though I’m Sarah, but trust me I’m not. This is just a story about an unfortunate girl. A very unfortunate girl. A very very very un-- Why am I doing that? I don’t know. Like people say I don’t know anything. I’m mindless. Brainless. Just there.

Well I must hurry, the hourglass runs low. [So lifted from Chain Letter 2] Movin’ on. The next mourning. . . . . .

* * * * *

Well, wasn’t that murderously marvelous! Who killed the teacher? How did he die exactly since he was so mutilated Sarah didn’t even recognize him? Who is this other person telling the story? Stay tuned for the next installment of Jimmy Dearest, where none of these questions are answered.

An Untitled, Unfinished Play, Once More

There’s a story behind this one. When I was tenish-elevenish, me and my friends would cut body parts out of magazines and glue them together to form one complete disproportioned person. They were kind of cool looking. I know of one that survived in one of my notebooks, but, alas, that particular notebook is currently in storage. But to give you an idea of what these looked like I made one real quick. ^_^




Amanda and I took this to another level. We glued our body parts together on notebook paper and cut them out and glued them to this weird blue Styrofoam we found in the garage. (We had a crap load of this stuff and I never knew where it came from. But things often appeared and disappeared in the garage of the magical house on Christian Circle, like the front tire to my bike… I still think we had gnomes living among us.) We cut the Styrofoam around the shape of their bodies, gave them all names, and used them as dolls. And this play is based on those dolls. Sadly, the dolls are long gone…

Scene 1 (walking to school)

D.J.: Today’s our first Day of school here.
Diedre: I know.
D.J.: I’m so nervous.
Diedre: Why?
D.J.: I don’t know. I just get the feeling that we are definitely not going to fit in here. I mean this is sunny California. We’re New York girls. [Note: Sweet Valley influence. Every young adult series should take place in California. *nods*]
Diedre: It’s going to be so weird here.
D.J.: Well at least now mom will give us some space and let us live our own lives.
Diedre: Well, we’re here. Ready.
D.J.: As ready as I’ll ever be.
Diedre: Good. Lets go.

Scene 2 (at receptionists desk)

D.J.: We’re here to get our new schedules.
Receptionist: Diedre and Dana-Jane Johnson, right
D.J.: D.J. please.
Receptionist: OK, D.J. Here are your schedules.
Diedre: Thank you.
D.J.: She’s shy.
Receptionist: Have a good day.
(they walk away and bump into April Mulch)
April: Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you. New here?
D.J.: Yeah.
Diedre: I’m going to class now.
April: Whose that?
D.J.: That’s my older sister Diedre.
April: My name is April Mulch.
D.J.: Nice to meet you April.
April: Pleasure.
D.J.: My name’s D.J. Johnson.
April: what class do you have next?
(she looks at her schedule)
D.J.: Science.
April: So do I. Right now we’re working on a project. I don’t have a partner, so you can be mine. [How convenient…] Do you know anyone around here.
D.J.: No.
April: I can introduce you to my friends.
D.J.: That’s nice.
April: Come on.
(they go to science class)
April: D.J., this is Mrs. Deroyer. [Like Destroyer, only minus the S and T. Get it? You get it!]
Deroyer: Hi. You must be Dana-Jane Johnson. [And yes, Mrs. Deroyer did have a doll. She was really ugly, too, if memory serves correct.]
D.J.: D.J.
Deroyer: Whatever. Take a seat next to Courtney.
April: Mrs. Deroyer, you can’t make her sit there.
Deroyer: And why not?
April: That’s Courtney Bloome. The Courtney Bloome.
Deroyer: Have a Seat Ms. Mulch. You too Ms. Johnson.
(they have a seat)
Deroyer: All right I’m going to call role now, Alex. [Only so I could have the chance to write down all the characters names.]
Alex: Here.
Deroyer: Dana.
Dana: Here.
Deroyer: Courtney.
Courtney: Do we have to do this every stupid day of our mortal lives.
Deroyer: Courtney, hush.
Courtney: Hymph.
Deroyer: Sarah.
Sarah: Here.
Deroyer: Courtney, why can’t you behave more like your sister.
Courtney: Frankly because I’m not my sister. I’m sixteen years old. I think I can live my own life.
Sarah: Courtney, I’m sixteen too. [Obviously, they’re twins. And so you know, they were blond…]
Courtney: Yeah, whatever.
Deroyer: Can we move on pleas. Travis.
Travis: Here.
Deroyer: Emily.
Emily: Here.
Deroyer: Mark.
Mark: Here.
Deroyer: April.
April: Here.
Deroyer: Donahue. [Who names their kid Donahue?]
Donahue: Here.
Deroyer: James.
James: Here.
Deroyer: Andy.
Andy: Here.
Deroyer: Katherine.
Katherine: Here.
Deroyer: Vinney.
Vinney: Here.
Deroyer: Todd. [Are you surprised? I’m not.]
Todd: Here.
Deroyer: Eric.
Eric: Here.
Deroyer: Vera.
Vera: Here.
Deroyer: Andrew.
Andrew: Here.
Deroyer: Liza.
Lizzy: Here. [Liza or Lizzy? No one knows.]
Deroyer: Glenda.
Glenda: Here.
Deroyer: And class we have a knew student with us today. D.J. Johnson. Everyone, say hi.
Class: Hi D.J.
D.J.: Hi.
Deroyer: D.J., why don’t you come up here and tell us a little about yourself. [Because nothing makes you feel more at ease than standing in a room full of strangers and thinking of a way to make yourself sound cool.]
(she gets up and goes to the front of the class)
D.J.: Well there isn’t that much to tell. I’m from New York.
Someone: Oooooo. New York! [I went through the role call for the entire class and couldn’t be bothered to pick a name for this douche bag?]
D.J.: Yeah New York. My parents are divorce. I live with my mom. I have a sister named Diedre. She’s a sienior. And that’s about it.
(she goes to take a seat)
Deroyer: OK. Kids. Get to your science progects.
(April raises her hand)
Deroyer: Yes April.
April: D.J.”s gonna be in my group.
Deroyer: That’s nice. Get to work. [Isn’t she a caring teacher. I think she was modeled off of Mrs. Cranberry. More on her later, as I don’t think she actually appears in any written stories.]
(April stands up and goes over to D.J.’s desk.)
D.J.: What are we working on
April: Making a game having to deal with the biomes. The tundra, tiaga, temperete diciduos forest, Grassland, tropical rain forest, and desert. You familiar with them. [Gee, I wonder what I was working on in school at the time…]
D.J.: Yeah I’m familiar with them. What are the basic things I need to know around here? [Fuck the project. What’s the social latter looking like?]
April: Stay away from Courtney.
D.J.: That Courtney.
April: Yeah Courtney Bloome. She’s a troublemaker. Wherever she can find it. See that girl over that.
D.J.: Yeah.
April: That’s here fraternal twin Sarah. She’s pretty nice. The complete opposite of Courtney. Courtney’s party is Emily Griffith. Stay away from here too.
D.J.: Why?
April: That’s Courtney’s best friend. Right now She’s going out with my brother Johnathan.
D.J.: Yikes. [Anyone else remember those pencils? They were awesome.]
April: Tell me about it. It has got to be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. [There will be worse, April, promise.]
D.J.: How does your mom treat you. [Is that any of your effing business?]
April: Ok, I guess. Why?
D.J.: My mom is so overprotective. Especially with me.
April: That oughta suck.
D.J.: I hate it.
April: Tell me about New York.
D.J.: It’s just Basically any normal New England Town. [Balls!] It just has a lot more pollution, Acid rain, crime, and other stuff like that. [Sure we’re not talking about L.A.?] I mean I’ve lived in Albany, Manhatten, Brooklyn, Long Island, and New York City.
April: Whoa, you lived all over New York.
D.J. Yep. I have. How about you?
April: Well my brother was born in Omaha Nerbraska, and I was born in Keansburg New Jersey. I only lived there till I was five, then I moved here. [I’m wondering what brought them from Nebraska to Keansburg of all places. Drug trafficking, maybe?]
D.J.: I am so glad that it is May, and I wont be here that long untill next year.
April: Why did you move so late in the year anyways?
D.J.: I don’t know, my moms an idiot.
April: Mabey she should meet my mom. She’s an idiot too. What’s your next class. No, let me guess. Math.
D.J.: How did you know?
April: That’s my next class too.
D.J.: I guess we’re destined to be friends. [blech]
April: Yeah. Hey listen. Mr. Ace is the Math teacher, and he always gives a lot of homework that you can barely understand. [Sounds like my Algebra 2/Trig teacher.] So why don’t you come over my house tonight and I’ll help you.
D.J.: Sure. But I have to tell my mom where I’m going or she’ll have a cow.
April: Moms are that way.
D.J.: I wish mine wasn’t. She sucks. I hate her so much some times.
April: You don’t mean that.
D.J.: Your right, I don’t.
(the bell rings)
Deroyer: All right class I’ll see you tomorrow.
April: What’s your locker number.
D.J.: 448.
April: I have 434.
D.J.: Great.
Someone: Hey April
(They turned around)
April: Hi Emily.
Emily: Whose your little friend, April?
April: D.J.
D.J.: Hi.
Emily: Hi. Listen, April, I just happen to like your brother. And he just happens to like Me. [That kinda came out of nowhere…]
April: Emily, go away.
(Nancy walks up)
Nancy: Hi April, hi Emily.
Emily: Go to hell Nancy. [What?]
(Emily walks off)
Nancy: Emily has such a temper sometimes. And no one even does anything to her.
April: That’s for damn sure..
Nancy: Well I have to go. I have to meat my friend Sydney. Bye.
D.J.: She’s nice. [She just completely ignored you!]
April: It’s still just too hard to believe that that’s Emily Griffith’s sister. There’s not even a slight family resemblance in their looks. [I think one of the dolls was white, and the other was Hispanic…]
D.J.: Your right.
April: I know I’m right. I’m always right. [Maybe this is why she didn’t have a partner.]
D.J.: Hmmmm.

Scene 3 (In math class)

Mr. Ace: Dana-Jane Johnson, right? [No, Mr. Ace did not have a doll, but I realized I needed more than one teacher.]
D.J.: D.J.
Mr. Ace: Yes, very well. Take a seat right over there next to Sarah.
D.J. Ok.
(She walks over to the desk.)
Sarah: Hi, I’m Sarah Bloome.
D.J.: Hi.
Sarah: Your D.J. right.
D.J.: Yeah.
Sarah: How was life in New Hork?
D.J.: It was Ok.
Sarah: Was it boring?
D.J.: Sometimes.
Sarah: Except for my sister Courtney, I have absolutely no life.
D.J.: Courtney’s your sister. [April fricken told you that!]
Sarah: Unfortunatly. She is such a little witch. I hate her so much sometimes. [Gee these people have such pent up aggression towards their family members. Makes you wonder if the author was trying to say something…]
D.J.: I haven’t met her yet.
Sarah: You’d hate her. You seem like a nice girl, and believe me Courtney’s a witch. Do you have any brothers or sisters?
D.J.: One. My sister Diedre. She’s a senior. Do you have any besides Courtney.
Sarah: Yeah, my brother whose at College. [With a capital “C”]
D.J.: I don’t have any brothers.
Sarah: Lucky.
D.J.: Yeah I guess I am.

Scene 4 (lunch)

(D.J. is looking for Diedre in Cafeteria)
D.J.: There you are I’ve been looking all over for you.
Diedre: How was your day so far.
D.J.: Pretty good. I’ve made two friends, and I can tell all my teachers hate me except Mr. Ace.
Diedre: Who are your friends.
D.J.: That girl we ran into in the hall. Her name is April Mulch, and my other friend is Sarah Bloom.
Diedre: That’s nice, I have two knew friends too. Their names are Nancy Griffith and Sydney Markus.
D.J.: That’s nice.
(April approaches the table)
April: Hi again
D.J.: April, sit down.
April: Ok.
Diedre: Hi, I’m Diedre Johnson. [The weird girl who just kind of ditched you guys in the hall.]
April: April Mulch. Pleasure to meet you. Again.
Diedre: Yeah, whatever.
D.J.: Whose that guy over there.
April: That’s my brothe Johnathan. Hey Johny boy, get over here.
(He walks over) [Because he‘s so not embarrassed by being called “Johny Boy“ in the middle of a crowded high school lunch room]
Johnathan: Hey Ape. [Niiiiiice]
April: April!
Johnathan: Whatever. Anyway, why’d you call me over? I was having a good time.
April: How can anyone have a good time with Emily Griffith.
Johny: Shut up April.
April: Make me.
John: I said shut up. [Oh to be a fly on the wall in their house…]
April: I said shut up. Well anyway. This is my friend D.J., and this is her sister Diedre.
John: Correct me if I’m wrong, but your in my third period physics class. [John so needs to be shot for using that line.]
Diedre: Yep.
John: See ya at home April
April: Bye, Johnny Boy.
(then he walks off)
April: What the hell does he see in Emily?
D.J.: I don’t know.
Diedre: Neither do I.
D.J.: April.
April: Yeah.
D.J.: You know Sarah Bloome.
April: Yeah. Who doesn’t?
D.J.: No, I mean, really know her. Like good friends.
April: Yeah, she’s one of my best friends.
D.J.: She’s Courtney’s sister. Is it safe to hang out around her and her crowd. [I feel like we’ve gone over this already.]
April: Yeah. She’s perfectly safe. The complete oposite of Courtney. I told you that before. [Nice to know it’s only D.J. who suffers from short term memory loss.]
D.J.: Yeah. I know. I was just double check. I mean, Courtey doesn’t really seem that bad. But from what you have told me she is. [She told you nothing but she gets into trouble.]
April: That’s the understatement of the year. [Me and Amanda used this line A LOT]
D.J.: I guess, but then again, I am knew around here.
April: I know. Everybody Does.
Diedre: My guess is that there are a lot of gossips around here. [How observant.]
April: You bet.
Diedre: I thought so.
April: Well I gotta go. Bye.
(she leaves)
Diedre: Nice Girl. [It sounded like you were insulting her a minute ago.]
D.J.: Yeah. I know.

Scene 5 (Going home that afternoon)

D.J.: I’m home mom.
(Kimmy comes in the living room.
Kimmy: Hello D.J. How was your day at school.? [MS Works doesn’t recognize Kimmy as a word, FYI.]
D.J.: Ok.
Kimmy: Where’s Diedre?
D.J.: Doing her college aplication at school.
Kimmy: Good for her. So tell me how your day went.
D.J.: I have made two knew friends. They’re in most of my classes. And they’re really nice.
Kimmy: That’s good.
D.J.: Yeah, well I’m going over April’s house.
Kimmy: Whose April? [D.J.’s April!]
D.J.: My friend. April Mulch.
Kimmy: Be home before six.
D.J.: Mom! I am sixteen years old. A this isn’t New York. [I never had a curfew. I only knew of these things through books and my friends. Like I had one friend who when we were little had to “check in” with her parents by calling them every hour on the hour. I thought her parents were retarded, or maybe that they thought she was retarded.]
Kimmy: I said be home before six, you lady. And be home before six you will. Or you are grounded.
D.J.: But.
Kimmy: No buts about it.
(Then she leaves the room)
D.J.: I hate her sometimes.
(the doorbell rings)
D.J.: Coming!
(She opened the door)
D.J.: Hi April.
April: Hi D.J.
D.J.: come on in. I have to be home by six.
April: Why?
D.J.: Because of my stupid mother.
April: Well come on. We’ll deal with the harder stuff first.
D.J.: Ok. Mom, I’m leaving now!
Kimmy: Have a good time!
D.J.: I will.
(they leave)

April: Come on in.
(they walk in)
Johnny: HI April. Hi D.J.
Emily: Hi.
Courtney: Pleasure.
April: Hi John, Emily, Courtney.
D.J.: Hi.
April: We’re going up now to do our homework. And when will mom and dad be home.
John: Monday would be my guess. [Where are they?]
April: Just another magic Monday. [Yeah. For years I totally thought the song Manic Monday was Magic Monday.]
John: See ya guys later.
(they go upstairs)
D.J.: Lucky you.
April: What do you mean?
D.J.: My mom still thinks I need a babysitter.
April: God, that is bad.
D.J.: Tell me about it. I hate her so much. I have to be home by six “o” clock, or she’ll ground me. I mean, I understand this in New York. But we’re not in New York anymore.
April: hmmmm.
D.J.: It sucks.
April: That’d be my guess.
D.J.: So what should we do first?
April: Math.
D.J.: Why?
April: Mr. Ace gives the hardest work out of the entire junior class.
D.J.: Great. And aparently he’s the only one of my teachers that likes me.
April: Poor you.
D.J.: I know. It’s horrible.
April: You know what.
D.J.: What?
April: You’re not alone.
D.J.: What do you mean?
April: I mean the teachers usually hate everyone of they’re students. [If you followed that sentence you’re a special kind of person like me. ^_-] It’s not common when they actually liked one. But in your case, I’d watch out. Mr. Ace is one weird teacher. [Oooh. Weird in a teacher-who-has-sex-with-his-students kind of way? This play just got interesting.]
D.J.: Tell me about it. I can’t wait until we get out of school next month.
April: Why exactly did you move so late in the year?
D.J.: My mom is stupid. We were supposed to move here this summer. But she moved us here as soon as she could.
April: That sucks.
D.J.: I know. Believe me I know.

Scene 6 (Downstairs)

Courtney: Your sister is such a stupid little--
Jon: Not all the time.
Emily: Since when do you defend April?
Courtney: And since when do you interupt me?
Jon: Sorry slut. [Burn!]
Courtney: Don’t call me a slut!
Emily: Shut up, you two!
Courtney & Jon: No!
Emily: Well, can you at least stop arguing. Please.
Jon: Fine.
Courtney: Whatever.
Emily: Let’s just act civilized and watch T.V.
Jon: Alright. It’s fine with me.
Courtney: Hmmm.

Yay! It’s over! That was kind of lame. About this time I decided to stop writing this happy school crap and write horror stories [Dear Sister and The Tie That Binds were only experiments], which led to The Epilogue that Never Was, Berkeley Manor, and Jimmy Dearest. I promise gory death.

Deathy's New Years Resolutions [Intro to Allistar]

In short, the last few months of my life have SUCKED! So, in an effort to keep myself distracted and avoid thinking about a certain asshole who shall not be named, I have made a goal for myself:

In this year, 2009, I, Deathycat, will not only finish Allistar Academy #1 A Morbid Curiousity, but I will have it edited, finalized, and submitted to no less than ten publishers.

Allistar Academy is my seven novel magnum opus I started in July 2005. (Don't worry. My writing's improved a smidgent since I was eleven.) It started as a short story about two boys who find a weird drug and have hallucinations. I wrote the first page and knew it would be much much more than that. It grew into a book, and then two books, and in the end I decided seven books would be needed to tell the tale.

I used to attempt to write my stories from beginning to end, but then I would get stuck on a certain part and loose the will to go on with it, hence why all of my stories are unfinished [Except for The Enemy Within, and Dear Sister, of course]. With Allistar I took a different route. I wrote every scene that popped into my head, from every book, completely out of order. And when I'm not doing that I bridge together the "fun" parts from beginning to end. This is a writing technique that has kept me working on this story far longer than any other in my past. But for the last year I've been stuck on Chapter 8 of the first book for almost a year. Nothing I do with it seems to be right. Well, no more! I am going to finish this stupid book if it's the last thing I do!

My friend Amanda, (the girl that helped me write Dear Sister, keep in mind), has a finished novel that's she's in the midst of editing and getting ready for submission. So what we did is make a schedule for this entire year, week by week, with a certain goal in mind each week. We write down our goal week by week in a notebook and reward ourselves with stickers! Yay! I love stickers! (I had lots of sticker books. Did you?) And we have to check in with the other to report our goal-reaching, and receive appropriate scolding or congratulations. It's great motivation. And she suggested I tell as many people as possible about my goal so they can occasionally remind me of it and I'll feel guilty, so I'm announcing it here! Our weeks span Mondays-Sundays so I'll report each Monday to let all of my fans out there know if I succeeded or not. (Let me pretend.) I accomplished the first week's goals, and am well on my way to accomplishing my goal for week 2, but I'll report more on that on Monday.

So what is Allistar Academy all about, you're wondering. Well, my little "back cover blurb" goes like this:

Von Crowley came to attend the boarding school his father had before him. His father who was brilliant. A genius. And missing.

Befriended by a deceptively cheerful classmate he is invited to play Hide and Seek with the boy and his "girlfriend" in a dilapidated old school house on campus. The haunting old building that's scheduled to be torn down. The one that feels alive with the secrets of the past.

Then one day he heard the voices. The ones unlike those belonging to his friends. And he found them. And the little glass bottle that read "Drink me..."

And here's the litle banner I made. *sniffle* I miss photoshop.

There you have it. Going off to go work on the story a little more before bed. Ta.

Cool Meme Thing

Stolen from Steph.

Type in "[your name] needs" in the Google search.
"Michelle Needs Your Help" Hahahahah! This is funny to me.
"How to say Michelle needs to go poop in different languages..." Umm....okay...

Type in "[your name] looks like" in Google search.
"Bill O' thinks Michelle looks like an "Angy Woman"" Bill O' is not far off.
"Shocked Michelle - Looks like Mona Lisa smells like Tuna Fish" My new perfume, Ode de Tuna.

Type in "[your name] says" in Google search.
"Michelle says so" So you better listen.
"Michelle says Barack is a nerd!" So am I. Who am I to judge?

Type in "[your name] wants" in Google search.
"Michelle wants to play horsey." Well why not? It's fun.

Type in "[your name] does" in Google search.
"Michelle does Tribal - Creeky Girls Productions." Do I receive royalties for this?

Type in "[your name] hates" in Google search.
"Michelle hates Canada" Hate's a strong word. I have no problem with Canada, though I do enjoy the song "Blame Canada."

Type in "[your name] asks" in Google search.
"Do you think Michelle asks Barack where he was born when they're cuddling in bed?" Ummm...when did that happen, and was I sober?

Type in "[your name] likes " in Google search.
"Michelle likes pie." Not really. I prefer cake, actually. Cheesecake.

Type in "[your name] eats " in Google search. (Uh-oh, this won't be pretty...)
"Michelle eats a vieanetta with a ladel." What the hell is vieanetta?

Type in "[your name] wears " in Google search.
"Michelle wears a shirt that confuses many." Awesome! I love shirts that scramble the brains of the simpleminded. Mwahahahaha!

Type in "[your name] was arrested for" in Google Search.
"Michelle Allen arrested for Public Intoxication Wearing A Cow Suit." A case of mistaken identity, but I kind of want to hear the story behind this one.

Type in "[your name] loves" in Google Search.
"Michelle loves cock."
"Michelle loves teh penis."
Well, I guess now everyone knows what I like.

In Other News....

I was planning on participating the VC Andrews movement thing this year.


I was reading through the copy of Flowers in the Attic that I have at my house last night, which happens to be a UK copy I recently got my hands on and I noticed something a little odd. Now I first read FitA when I was 12 years old and have read it no less than fifteen times, so I'm pretty familiar with the material. It starts the same as the US version but goes immediately from Cathy's initial description of her father to his doomed 36th birthday party. I was like "Wait a minute... Where's Corinne being pregnant with the twins and telling Cathy he would always love her extra special?" It was edited out! What else was edited out, I wonder. So I will be reading both version simultaneously and reporting any differences I discover.