<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:18:01.624-07:00</updated><category term='shoot me'/><title type='text'>Writing in the roses red</title><subtitle type='html'>My rantings about my first NaNoWriMo attempt!</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-6967180556730251055</id><published>2008-10-13T15:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T15:56:46.202-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Woo-hoo</title><content type='html'>I finished the basic plot outline &lt;br /&gt;=]&lt;br /&gt;Course this won't make sense to anyone but me, lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basic Outline&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. Beginning (VERY SHORT!)&lt;br /&gt; A. Intro ("My parents gave me the talk when I was ten...")&lt;br /&gt;  1. Vampires and VIS&lt;br /&gt;   a. Hates vampires&lt;br /&gt;   b. Has heard many terrible stories&lt;br /&gt;  2. Parents never payed attention to her&lt;br /&gt;   a. nanny&lt;br /&gt;   b. always busy&lt;br /&gt;  3. Getting close to her mom &lt;br /&gt;  4. Coma (no conciousness of coma, only of dream)&lt;br /&gt;"That was the beginning of the most wonderful, but terrible, part of my life"&lt;br /&gt;II. Changes&lt;br /&gt; A. Wakes up in lab&lt;br /&gt;  1. Sees only bright/white when she first wakes up&lt;br /&gt; B. Carmen tells her right away about vampire blood&lt;br /&gt;  1. Vivian says nothing about dream&lt;br /&gt;  2. Doesn't want to look like a freak or look like she overexaggerates things&lt;br /&gt; C. Discovers her new abilities&lt;br /&gt;  1. excelent vision&lt;br /&gt;  2. super hearing&lt;br /&gt;  3. hightened sense of smell&lt;br /&gt;  4. (developes brightness in eyes over the next day)&lt;br /&gt; D. Is overwhelmed and cannot control abilities&lt;br /&gt; E. Matt visits her&lt;br /&gt;  1. brings her flowers&lt;br /&gt;  2. says he loves her&lt;br /&gt;"And I could just say that I love you, but that wouldn't be enough, because no matter how many times I say it, I don't think that I will ever be able to make you understand the way that you make me feel"&lt;br /&gt; F. Released from VIS (not really pressured to join)&lt;br /&gt;  (vague dream...doesn't see Abel)&lt;br /&gt;  1. Discovers sensitivity to sun&lt;br /&gt; G. Learning ability enhanced (found out by doing schoolwork)&lt;br /&gt; H. Goes out with Mathew for dinner&lt;br /&gt;  1. uses her special contacts and sunblock&lt;br /&gt;  2. Feels panic (Abel being confronted by coven, wondering if he was followed back  and if they were all in danger)&lt;br /&gt; I. Dreams&lt;br /&gt;  1. Sees Abel &lt;br /&gt;III. Abel and Mathew&lt;br /&gt; A. Mixed feelings&lt;br /&gt;  1. Attracted to Abel&lt;br /&gt;  2. Hates his attitude&lt;br /&gt;  3. Hates him for being a vampire&lt;br /&gt; (B. Abel refuses to talk to her&lt;br /&gt;  1. ignores her&lt;br /&gt;  2. she tries to ignore him, yet wants to be close to him&lt;br /&gt; C. Is afraid to tell parents)&lt;br /&gt; D. Starts spending more time with Matt&lt;br /&gt;  1. Matt tells Vivian that others miss her&lt;br /&gt;  2. She isn't eager to spend time with others&lt;br /&gt;   a. feels too different&lt;br /&gt;  3. Starts being able to control her senses &lt;br /&gt; E. Feels connected to Matt through VIS&lt;br /&gt; (D. Abel acknoledges her&lt;br /&gt;  1. calls her by last name&lt;br /&gt;  2. starts responding to her, talking to her&lt;br /&gt;  3. self-centered, vain, and proud&lt;br /&gt;  4. doesn't lie about feeding habits&lt;br /&gt; F. She becomes more and more curious about vampires)&lt;br /&gt;"I will figure you out, Abel. You talk the talk, but I can feel that there's so much more to you than you would want me to know."&lt;br /&gt;IV. Vampires&lt;br /&gt; A. Joins VIS&lt;br /&gt;  1. They are very happy to take her&lt;br /&gt; B. Starts training&lt;br /&gt;  1. They have high expectations for her&lt;br /&gt;  2. Matt is envious that she is able to train, but secretly doesn't want that for himself&lt;br /&gt;   a. tells her about his mother's expectations for him and how he wants to get away from it all&lt;br /&gt; C. Starts having real conversations with Abel&lt;br /&gt;  1. gets to know about his past life&lt;br /&gt;   a. born in France&lt;br /&gt;   b. had family&lt;br /&gt;   c. lost everything&lt;br /&gt;  2. Vivian understands why he's afraid to let people close&lt;br /&gt; D. Passes physical training&lt;br /&gt;  1. Starts the research part of training&lt;br /&gt;   a. First vampire&lt;br /&gt;   b. nothing she didn't know before&lt;br /&gt; E. She and Abel get really close&lt;br /&gt;  1. They open up to each other&lt;br /&gt;  2. Trust each other&lt;br /&gt;   a. Finds out that her mother was using her as bait&lt;br /&gt;  3. Abel starts showing a more caring side&lt;br /&gt;   a. She starts falling in love with him&lt;br /&gt;"We started melting into one person, the way that watercolor paints blend together and make a completely new picture than that before"&lt;br /&gt;V. Escape&lt;br /&gt; A. Graduation ceremony for VIS at lakehouse&lt;br /&gt; B. They are attacked by vampires&lt;br /&gt;  1. Abel and Vivian see each other for the first time through sliding back door&lt;br /&gt; C. Abel takes Vivian by the hand and they leave to the coven&lt;br /&gt;  1. Vampires live in underground chaimbers under a popular night club&lt;br /&gt;  2. Each has own room&lt;br /&gt;   a. His room filled with garlic to hide the scent of everything he brings into the room&lt;br /&gt;  3. Crawls into freezer with him&lt;br /&gt;"And at that moment, I looked into his eyes and desperatetly wished that he would kiss me. But, instead, he opened the door back up and lifted himself out, then turned around and mouthed the words 'Keep quiet"&lt;br /&gt; D. Coven leader enters his room&lt;br /&gt;  1. Hates that he keeps garlic in his room&lt;br /&gt;  2. Thinks he's working on novel&lt;br /&gt; E. Starts talking about Vivian&lt;br /&gt;  1. Doesn't know exactly what she is, but knows that she isn't full vampire or human&lt;br /&gt;   a. Mentions that she smells a lot like him&lt;br /&gt;  2. Wants all vampires alert and looking for her&lt;br /&gt;  3. Sees her as a threats&lt;br /&gt;   a. wants Vivian dead&lt;br /&gt; F. Leaves to look for Vivian&lt;br /&gt; G. Vivian doesn't want to cause him any problems&lt;br /&gt; H. Leaves&lt;br /&gt;  1. Runs into club, loses Abel&lt;br /&gt; I. returns home&lt;br /&gt;  1. Overhears mother on phone being told to put "her experiment down"&lt;br /&gt;  2. Mother agrees coldheartedly&lt;br /&gt; J. Doesn't know where to go&lt;br /&gt;  1. Calls Matt&lt;br /&gt;  2. Goes to his house (Mother looking for her)&lt;br /&gt;  3. Dawn&lt;br /&gt;   a. Matt hids Vivian in cellar&lt;br /&gt;   b. his mother comes home and goes straight to bed&lt;br /&gt;VI. End&lt;br /&gt; A. Dreams with Abel, tells him where she is, why she left&lt;br /&gt; B. Plan to meet up on the corner of the bell tower (across the street from where she and Matt went out to dinner)&lt;br /&gt; C. Dusk&lt;br /&gt;  1. Matt's mother leaves again&lt;br /&gt;   a. tells Matt to head for the city&lt;br /&gt;"There will be a lot of blood spilt tonight... And she will be there. I won't let you see it." (Matt's mom)&lt;br /&gt;  2. Drives Vivian to tower&lt;br /&gt;"We were meant to be together, Viv. That is, if things would have gone right..."&lt;br /&gt;"...I know...I could have really loved you."&lt;br /&gt;  3. Mathew kisses her before she gets out&lt;br /&gt;   a. she doesn't push him away, but she doesn't kiss him back&lt;br /&gt;  4. Abel waiting for her&lt;br /&gt; D. They start running (no specified direction)&lt;br /&gt; E. Coven leader finds them&lt;br /&gt;  1. Is surprised to see Vivian with Abel&lt;br /&gt;  2. Is even more surprised that he protects her&lt;br /&gt; F. VIS hunting coven leader&lt;br /&gt;  1. They were following her&lt;br /&gt;  2. Vampires following VIS&lt;br /&gt; G. War breaks out between VIS and the vampire coven&lt;br /&gt;  1. They attack each other&lt;br /&gt;  2. Temporarily forget about Vivian&lt;br /&gt;  3. Vivian sees her father &lt;br /&gt;   a. father does love her&lt;br /&gt;   b. distracts vampires to allow her to leave&lt;br /&gt; I. Vivian and Abel leave&lt;br /&gt;  1. See Matt driving away in the distance&lt;br /&gt;   a. finally free from it all&lt;br /&gt;"You know they will be after us when it's over..."&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah...(silence) I hope you know I love you."&lt;br /&gt;"I do." &lt;br /&gt;"Good."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-6967180556730251055?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/6967180556730251055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=6967180556730251055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/6967180556730251055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/6967180556730251055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2008/10/woo-hoo.html' title='Woo-hoo'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-2440838040986545334</id><published>2008-10-11T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T16:28:39.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Plot changes</title><content type='html'>So.. I've decided to majorly change some important things in the plot. Like...super big changes. I'm getting rid of some characters, changing some characters...and my MC's parents are going to be bad, bad people. =]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-2440838040986545334?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/2440838040986545334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=2440838040986545334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/2440838040986545334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/2440838040986545334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2008/10/plot-changes.html' title='Plot changes'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-4377866210510885247</id><published>2008-10-08T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T20:42:23.555-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting ready for nano '08!!</title><content type='html'>As y'all know, I got pretty sick last year in November, and, although I totally reached and passed the 50k word count, I DID NOT finish the novel. So, for this year, I'm redoing the novel. Sort of. I am changing a couple of major things...no biggie =P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'm starting the new outline, which should be up pretty soon =] &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's ignore the fact that I should be doing hw right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-4377866210510885247?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/4377866210510885247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=4377866210510885247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4377866210510885247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4377866210510885247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2008/10/getting-ready-for-nano-08.html' title='Getting ready for nano &apos;08!!'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-4319820124663449901</id><published>2007-11-27T01:02:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T01:02:42.029-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick. Er.</title><content type='html'>Stupid cold...stupid meds that make my body ache...stupid unhealthiness!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-4319820124663449901?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/4319820124663449901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=4319820124663449901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4319820124663449901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4319820124663449901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/sick-er.html' title='Sick. Er.'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-250442166039515865</id><published>2007-11-20T22:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T22:57:03.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Slowing down...</title><content type='html'>Well, December is national novel finishing month, so I can slow down for now. Which is a good thing since I don't feel very well...again. &gt;.&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-250442166039515865?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/250442166039515865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=250442166039515865' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/250442166039515865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/250442166039515865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/slowing-down.html' title='Slowing down...'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-6503988116525949315</id><published>2007-11-19T23:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T23:51:23.406-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I MADE IT</title><content type='html'>That's right!! 50k words in 20 days!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-6503988116525949315?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/6503988116525949315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=6503988116525949315' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/6503988116525949315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/6503988116525949315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-made-it_19.html' title='I MADE IT'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-7771887535184684419</id><published>2007-11-19T01:30:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-19T01:30:50.216-08:00</updated><title type='text'>bleh</title><content type='html'>so behind...&lt;br /&gt;...eyes burning from staring at the screen...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remind me why I am doing this, please.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-7771887535184684419?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/7771887535184684419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=7771887535184684419' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/7771887535184684419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/7771887535184684419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/bleh.html' title='bleh'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-6993709270141020275</id><published>2007-11-17T11:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T11:02:46.895-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I know this is off subject, but.....</title><content type='html'>I JUST GOT MY ACCEPTANCE LETTER FROM MJC!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'M GOING TO COLLEGE, BABY!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I think I'll take a little break today. After all, I hit 41k yesterday...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-6993709270141020275?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/6993709270141020275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=6993709270141020275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/6993709270141020275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/6993709270141020275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-know-this-is-off-subject-but.html' title='I know this is off subject, but.....'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-3443282622141745998</id><published>2007-11-17T09:42:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-17T09:42:45.517-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Guess what day it is today...</title><content type='html'>That's right...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's my BIRTHDAY!!! I am now, officially, an adult.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-3443282622141745998?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/3443282622141745998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=3443282622141745998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3443282622141745998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3443282622141745998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/guess-what-day-it-is-today.html' title='Guess what day it is today...'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-295738502598865539</id><published>2007-11-16T00:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T00:16:47.897-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New excerpt</title><content type='html'>Because I know you all love me so dearly, I've given you another glimpse of the novel. Here, Vivian (MC) is talking to Abel (the vampire)in their dream world. This is just the beginning of their getting to know each other...and, obviously, they fall madly in love with each other, just the way things are supposed to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know what else to do,” I admitted, “I don’t want to let my parents down…but I believe that not all vampires are evil. I believe you. And I don’t know why,” I told Abel, resting my head on his chest and staring up into the sky, the flowers blowing around us, “You are so…sincere.”&lt;br /&gt; He sighed, “I only am sincere in my dreams, but I’m not a liar. I usually just don’t say anything that’ll compromise me. I don’t usually speak without thinking, either. But I guess I’m not afraid of what you think of me anymore. If you like me, great, but if you don’t, too bad. The way I see it, we’re stuck together for the rest of your life, and I don’t want it to be a constant battle. I’d rather be straightforward and honest than to have to confront you later on.”&lt;br /&gt; “I know what you mean…and I feel the same way. The bond that connects us is strong, unbreakable. And I know now that I can live with it, happily. It’s like I have my own, secret friend that’s always there for me. Sure, my first impression of you was pretty bad, but you’ve made it up to me already. &lt;br /&gt; “And I’m sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable. I mean, I’m the daughter of the man whose been trying to kill you since he knew of your existence. To him, you are nothing…you pollute the air and terrorize humanity. It must be hard for you to see me and always think of him, way in the back of your mind.”&lt;br /&gt; “Yes, well, when I first saw you, I knew exactly who you were and I knew exactly what had been done. When you turn someone into a vampire, you can feel their thoughts, their pains, but as they get new blood, it fades away. Usually, that happens within the first days. &lt;br /&gt; “But when I felt you…it was different. I never felt such peace before. You aren’t like all the rest of us, Vivian; you are a lot more special than you know. You were the first moment of peace that I received in eighty years. It was as if someone brought back the sun into my sky, as odd as that sounds, the song back into my words. But I was afraid that you would hate me, just as they all hate me, so I tried to scare you away. &lt;br /&gt;“When I saw you, drenched and soaking wet, I was shocked to see you so soon…and even more shocked that you left just as quickly. But you were all that I hoped for—beautiful and innocent. And the second time I saw you, I didn’t want to let you go; I wanted you to stay and keep me company, although I was afraid. I didn’t know what to say, and I hope that my silence was suiting. But when I did speak, I regretted it deeply.&lt;br /&gt; “Still, when you came back after my outburst, which I realized was inevitable, I had already missed you. I had already wished that I had never sneered at you, never hurt you in such a way. You didn’t deserve to learn about these things in that way. It wasn’t my job to tell you, and I’m sorry about that. &lt;br /&gt; “In a way, though, I’m not. You would still be thinking that I am a figment of your imagination, maybe even going crazy. So I had to pull away the mask and show you what I really am, although I still don’t know exactly what that is. I want you to know the real me, the way that I have gotten to know the real you. &lt;br /&gt;“You could be surprised at what you learn, darling.”&lt;br /&gt; I smiled softly, my eyes lightly closed. His words, such beautiful words, inspired me. I knew that I knew him a lot better than I thought I did; it was part of our connection. He was honest, honorable…vain, true, but I could see that he was rising above that. But most of all, he was good. There was something about him that drew me in closer, like a mystery that should never be solved only studied. &lt;br /&gt; I could study him, know him. I could follow his footsteps and be a better person. I could look up to him and let his wisdom guide me. He had learned so many things that I had no clue about; he could teach me to control myself even better. I could watch him all day, bask in the glory of his tender smile. I could love him. &lt;br /&gt; “To tell you the truth,” I said after a short pause, “from the very first time that I saw you, I wanted to return and find you again. I found you—and still find you—alluring. I think it’s your eyes, yes, it has to be your eyes,” I opened my eyes and looked at him, “They are the brightest I’ve ever seen. But there is something more than just that. It’s all of you. The way you smile, the way you tilt your head up to look at the clouds. &lt;br /&gt; “You rest here, and I enjoy watching you take pleasure in all the small things.”&lt;br /&gt; “I enjoy here what I can’t enjoy in my waking moments anymore. Only in my dreams am I all that I want to be. Here, I don’t have to worry about being chased down, caught, then killed. I try not to even think about it. I don’t worry about feeding or blending in.&lt;br /&gt; “I don’t have to pretend that I am what I’m not, because here, I’m almost human again. This is the only place where I can be with someone who isn’t afraid of me. Only here can I feel the warm sunlight on my cold skin. Only here can I watch the dawn rise over the horizon. Only here am I free.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-295738502598865539?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/295738502598865539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=295738502598865539' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/295738502598865539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/295738502598865539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/new-excerpt.html' title='New excerpt'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-3187663095783315551</id><published>2007-11-16T00:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T00:11:23.704-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Inching along</title><content type='html'>Okay, so I've been inching along, never going to far above my daily word count, but never going too far below either. I think I'll make up for it this Saturday...MY 18th BIRTHDAY!!! -woot- i can't think of a better way to spend it than this--writing at least 5k words. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started part 3 already...I should finish it by Saturday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-3187663095783315551?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/3187663095783315551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=3187663095783315551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3187663095783315551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3187663095783315551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/inching-along.html' title='Inching along'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-3927338279417205728</id><published>2007-11-13T00:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T00:10:36.813-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New twist</title><content type='html'>Sooo...&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't it be super cool if Vivian trusts Mathew with her secret, making him the only person he can really talk to? And he'd be her best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, I plan on making him an impromptu member of V.I.S. as they will be looking for all the help they can get. He'll be making sure that Vivian doesn't get out of town, or, in that case, Abel. But when they are fleeing, he's the one they face.&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, because he's in love with her, he could kill Abel and eventually win her over again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he lets her go...with another guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-tears-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-3927338279417205728?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/3927338279417205728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=3927338279417205728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3927338279417205728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3927338279417205728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/new-twist.html' title='New twist'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-4401658489632331424</id><published>2007-11-12T23:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T00:07:12.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>&gt;.&gt; new outline</title><content type='html'>Ya, so I got a bit side-tracked and sped things up a bit. Now, I've got to rewrite the outline a bit. Just enough to keep me from going off the edge of a cliff with my nano. Part I is done, so I'll start with Part II.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part II.&lt;br /&gt;==Vivian learns of V.I.S./vampire blood in her==&lt;br /&gt;-Goes down to headquarters with Dad&lt;br /&gt;==Trip to the movies with friends==&lt;br /&gt;-Mathew's hiccups get them kicked out&lt;br /&gt;-She receives gifts at the dinner &lt;br /&gt;=Starts basic V.I.S. training&lt;br /&gt;-Realizes Mathew's parents are involved&lt;br /&gt;-Mathew is aware of vampires&lt;br /&gt;==She is able to confide in him&lt;br /&gt;-Slowly tells him of what was 'wrong' with her&lt;br /&gt;==She starts trusting Abel==&lt;br /&gt;-he opens up to her, trusting her as well&lt;br /&gt;-they get along better&lt;br /&gt;-he lets her know more about his 'kind'&lt;br /&gt;==she falls in love with him ((unwritten))&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-4401658489632331424?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/4401658489632331424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=4401658489632331424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4401658489632331424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4401658489632331424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/new-outline.html' title='&gt;.&gt; new outline'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-860674849793141867</id><published>2007-11-11T19:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-11T19:55:54.431-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?! Why?!</title><content type='html'>I'm ill. In nanowrimo. Why is life so unfair?! -tears-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I will get through...eve if it kills me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-860674849793141867?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/860674849793141867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=860674849793141867' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/860674849793141867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/860674849793141867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/why-why.html' title='Why?! Why?!'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-4757567307895182823</id><published>2007-11-09T23:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T23:57:29.095-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Working under pressure</title><content type='html'>It's amazing how fast you can work under pressure. I wrote around 1.5k in just thirty minutes. Now, what do you think about that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hit 26k today. Even though I spent almost all day at a friend's house. But no pressure, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-4757567307895182823?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/4757567307895182823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=4757567307895182823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4757567307895182823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4757567307895182823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/working-under-pressure.html' title='Working under pressure'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-8858560806841318977</id><published>2007-11-09T00:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T00:15:35.751-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving along</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.nanowrimo.org/NanowrimoUtils/MyMonth/200008-goal=30000-pc.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.nanowrimo.org/NanowrimoUtils/MyMonth/200008-goal=30000-pc.png" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow...as soon as I decided to drop the pressure of a 100k word count, things really start moving along a lot faster. I wrote my entire word count in just and hour and a half today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am amazed at my new found abilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out this cool little gadget. It's my writing calender thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-8858560806841318977?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/8858560806841318977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=8858560806841318977' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8858560806841318977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8858560806841318977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/moving-along.html' title='Moving along'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-4819965187181854886</id><published>2007-11-08T14:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T14:44:14.056-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lowering word count</title><content type='html'>Well, I'm not sure how much lower it will be, but I do know that I will stick to the same writing schedule. 100k is just too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, I could do it. But it would drive me mad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-4819965187181854886?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/4819965187181854886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=4819965187181854886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4819965187181854886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4819965187181854886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/lowering-word-count.html' title='Lowering word count'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-8483470605437891810</id><published>2007-11-07T23:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T23:07:45.191-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Although I didn't write today, I still have a goodie for you</title><content type='html'>Yet another short excerpt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: The guy who is addressing Vivian IS NOT Abel (aka the vampire)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:blue;"&gt;“Vivian,” he said shyly before walking out, “I just want you to know that…I…well…” he paused and breathed in deeply, “When I found out that you were hurt, I was really scared. I just thought that I would never get to see you again. I would’ve done anything to wake you up, even trade places with you. I guess what I’m trying to say that I don’t think you know how much you mean to me. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="text-indent: 0in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;“I could say I love you and it would be true, without a doubt. But no matter how many times I say it,&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’d never be able to make you understand the way you make me feel.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="text-indent: 0in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I watched him as he walked out, his heart dangling from a string, pounding, pounding.&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="text-indent: 0in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:blue;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-8483470605437891810?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/8483470605437891810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=8483470605437891810' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8483470605437891810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8483470605437891810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/although-i-didnt-write-today-i-still.html' title='Although I didn&apos;t write today, I still have a goodie for you'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-8866785875876558275</id><published>2007-11-07T12:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-07T12:24:18.118-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Break time!</title><content type='html'>I can't go on like this! I have NO TIME for anything but writing... 100k is just too much. I mean, I could do it, on the expense of not finished my sister's birthday present and her killing me for it. ;-;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO I decided to take a break today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-8866785875876558275?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/8866785875876558275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=8866785875876558275' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8866785875876558275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8866785875876558275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/break-time.html' title='Break time!'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-4635587831222894375</id><published>2007-11-06T23:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T23:37:03.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I have discovered my living muse</title><content type='html'>It's BEN!&lt;br /&gt;He makes me able to write!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...either that or that thought of midnight approaching so dog-gone fast&lt;br /&gt;&gt;.&gt;  &lt;.&lt;  &gt;.&lt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-4635587831222894375?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/4635587831222894375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=4635587831222894375' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4635587831222894375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4635587831222894375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-have-discovered-my-living-muse.html' title='I have discovered my living muse'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-8719943727437269669</id><published>2007-11-06T23:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T23:30:55.524-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Survived</title><content type='html'>Yes, my brain is mush. I thought you didn't even have to ask. But I MADE IT THROUGH ANOTHER DAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I finally hit 20k&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-8719943727437269669?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/8719943727437269669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=8719943727437269669' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8719943727437269669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8719943727437269669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/survived.html' title='Survived'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-773721631184646410</id><published>2007-11-06T12:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T12:41:12.306-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A new day</title><content type='html'>I woke up muse-less once again. One of these days, I think I'll fire her. She can't just keep walking away while on the job! I know, I'll get a new one. One with pretty, long hair. That'll show her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pray to God that I can finish my word count today.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-773721631184646410?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/773721631184646410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=773721631184646410' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/773721631184646410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/773721631184646410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/new-day.html' title='A new day'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-2998669673416150857</id><published>2007-11-05T23:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T23:46:14.715-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I DID IT!!</title><content type='html'>Somehow, I survived! I did it! I wrote over 5, 240 words in one day! And I'm not starking mad, which, when you really think about it, is quite an accomplishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total word count: 16, 787&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-2998669673416150857?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/2998669673416150857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=2998669673416150857' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/2998669673416150857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/2998669673416150857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-did-it.html' title='I DID IT!!'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-8821797124558760486</id><published>2007-11-05T21:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T23:45:01.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Only 1, 733 words to go for today!</title><content type='html'>Another excerpt. Please keep in mind the fact that when one needs to write over 5,000 words in one day, everything becomes a blur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all about quantity and not quality in November. Revision is all December...and January...and February...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"  &lt;p class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="text-indent: 0in; line-height: normal;"&gt;My bed was against the right wall, in the middle, its white metal frame bent and twisted into strange curlicues. Above it was a huge framed poster of the movie &lt;i&gt;Ever After, &lt;/i&gt;my favorite. Next to the bed was a small nightstand with a white lamp, and on the other side of the bed was a small bookshelf, filled with different kinds of books. On the opposite wall, though, was my desk. I would spend so many hours sitting in front of it, doing homework and school assignments. On top of it, sat a porcelain doll that I got for my fifth birthday. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="text-indent: 0in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Her name was Danessa, it said so on the card she came along with. I lost it shortly after taking her out of the box. I never tried to brush her long, curly black hair; my mom warned me against it, and I was so dreadfully afraid of ruining her. I did, however, change her dress many times and would always beg Mom to buy me new sets of clothing for her. I spent years playing with her, always so careful not to let anyone else touch her lest they drop her on her head. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="text-indent: 0in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I had long stopped playing with her, but she always stayed where I could see her, after all, she was the highlight of my childhood. I reached up to bring her down and look at her more closely. Even from above, I could see the exquisite details that I had before missed. I stood up high on my tiptoes, reaching blindly for her, brushing against her dress with my fingertips. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="text-indent: 0in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="text-indent: 0in; line-height: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I did bring her down, although I wasn’t able to have her in my hands. Down, down, down, plummeting down, until she crashed against the desk and shattered into a million pieces and lay still. The beautiful white porcelain was strewn all over the desk, all over the floor, along with all my childhood memories." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-8821797124558760486?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/8821797124558760486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=8821797124558760486' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8821797124558760486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8821797124558760486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/only-1-733-words-to-go-for-today.html' title='Only 1, 733 words to go for today!'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-7065393297192508986</id><published>2007-11-05T12:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T12:52:33.813-08:00</updated><title type='text'>^O.O^</title><content type='html'>Wow...So, this isn't as difficult as I thought it would be. I mustered up some 2.5K words already, leaving me with only 2, 740 more to go. And I thought I'd just post it here for my own reference, since no one else but me knows of this pages existence, lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll just take a ten minute break or so. Breaks are good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-7065393297192508986?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/7065393297192508986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=7065393297192508986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/7065393297192508986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/7065393297192508986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/oo.html' title='^O.O^'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-3067818077195952317</id><published>2007-11-05T08:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T08:17:17.520-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shoot me'/><title type='text'>-gasp-</title><content type='html'>Shoot me. You know, a nice, lead bullet would do. Just make sure you put it right through my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm 5, 240 words behind thanks to my dad who decided that I really needed to go to my grandparent's house, where I just sat around, unnoticed. And, on top of that, he didn't want to come back home early like he promised. No, we needed to return after dark... And by the time I got the computer, everyone, including him, was sitting around making noise and just plain keeping my muse in its grave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, now I have my own PC to work on. All I need to do is set it up somewhere in my room. If I can find a place to put it, that is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-3067818077195952317?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/3067818077195952317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=3067818077195952317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3067818077195952317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3067818077195952317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/gasp.html' title='-gasp-'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-4243043225667254217</id><published>2007-11-03T19:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-03T19:19:39.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mwahahahahahahahahah</title><content type='html'>Well, I finished a lot faster than normal today. 3,756 words BEFORE 7:15!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a breakthrough!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, the total word count is...-dun dun dun- 10, 891&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-4243043225667254217?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/4243043225667254217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=4243043225667254217' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4243043225667254217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/4243043225667254217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/mwahahahahahahahahah.html' title='Mwahahahahahahahahah'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-6637116186662056732</id><published>2007-11-02T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T23:51:43.767-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I made it!</title><content type='html'>I successfully reached today's word count goal! Actually, I went over 69 words, which isn't much, but it is a start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a total of 7, 135 words in the novel. Only 92, 865 more to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-6637116186662056732?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/6637116186662056732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=6637116186662056732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/6637116186662056732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/6637116186662056732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-made-it.html' title='I made it!'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-3596768291180899311</id><published>2007-11-02T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T19:26:50.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So far...</title><content type='html'>1, 913 words...only 1, 420 more to go... I've got 5.5 hrs. to finish the word count. It's doable, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-3596768291180899311?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/3596768291180899311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=3596768291180899311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3596768291180899311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3596768291180899311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/so-far.html' title='So far...'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-6786829924054445021</id><published>2007-11-02T09:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T09:56:13.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Word count</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I barely made my word count...and it really took me all day to muster up a some measly 3, 743 words. But no, not today! Today I will go above and BEYOND my goal! I will not be typing frantically at 11:45 P.M.!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will excel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-6786829924054445021?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/6786829924054445021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=6786829924054445021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/6786829924054445021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/6786829924054445021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/word-count.html' title='Word count'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-8329047009919876132</id><published>2007-11-01T22:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T22:03:49.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dead muse</title><content type='html'>Well, my muse is still dead...And I have two hours to finish my daily word count goal. I mean, what the heck, I've only got 1,385 more words to go. -doom-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I'll do it if it KILLS me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-8329047009919876132?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/8329047009919876132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=8329047009919876132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8329047009919876132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8329047009919876132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/dead-muse.html' title='Dead muse'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-8796116282746973666</id><published>2007-11-01T15:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T15:47:40.273-07:00</updated><title type='text'>An excerpt of my novel.</title><content type='html'>Pity me. My muse died. BUT I got this outta her first!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;"I would always wonder if the poor souls stuck in a coma knew what was going on. Would they still be able to hear all the beeping sounds of their hospital room, filled with numerous machines that kept them somehow alive? What about the suppressed cries of their family members who still couldn’t face the reality of the situation? Would they hear all the ambulances wailing and screaming for the dying they carried within their wombs? Or would they hear angels singing to them, comforting them with their melodic tunes? &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Now, if they could hear, they would probably be able to think…or at least I would hope so. They would suffer so much, hearing their family cry and despair hearing the doctor say that it was impossible to tell if they would wake. Would they even be aware of what was going on? Maybe they thought it was all a long, long dream that they couldn’t seem to get out of. A boring dream.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Or a scary dream, where they were unable to change or do a single thing, not even move? Mainly, I think, it would be a sad dream.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;But what if they didn’t think about those things? What if they remembered special moments that took place a long time ago…only happy things? Maybe they were thinking about a childhood pet they had that sadly passed on, or their wedding day. What if it really was like a dream, after all, where they would imagine that everything was possible. I think I would like that the best. Yes, that would be the best.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I wouldn’t want to hear, feel, or think. Just dream."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-8796116282746973666?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/8796116282746973666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=8796116282746973666' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8796116282746973666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8796116282746973666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/excerpt-of-my-novel.html' title='An excerpt of my novel.'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-5174354777376472017</id><published>2007-11-01T10:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-01T10:38:13.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>&gt;.&lt;</title><content type='html'>My must my muse die today?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-5174354777376472017?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/5174354777376472017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=5174354777376472017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/5174354777376472017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/5174354777376472017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/11/blog-post.html' title='&gt;.&lt;'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-3575481938973502031</id><published>2007-10-31T23:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T23:22:24.502-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O_O</title><content type='html'>Wow...Only 39 min. until NaNoWriMo officially starts! -flails-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is gonna be good. I can tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-3575481938973502031?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/3575481938973502031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=3575481938973502031' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3575481938973502031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3575481938973502031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/10/oo.html' title='O_O'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-1259268059440937331</id><published>2007-10-31T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T14:14:30.970-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Woo-hoo!</title><content type='html'>Lol, woo-hoo is RIGHT! (Ignore this, I'm hyper)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The real topic of this post should be metaphors that I have chosen to use throughout my novel. I think that they help give it a more personal touch...maybe a bit more depth and meaning. I always loved the way some authors were able to connect them throughout the entire book, and in the end, it would all make sense. Maybe I'm not as experienced as they are, but I will definitely have a go at those little buggers ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far, I've decided to use the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Broken porcelain doll&lt;br /&gt;        After returning from the hospital, Vivian accidentally pushes her porcelain doll and it falls and shatters.&lt;br /&gt;   -Meaning: The end of life as she knew it/ the end of her childhood&lt;br /&gt;   -New meaning when it 'comes back': Her fear of Abel breaking her heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Wildflowers&lt;br /&gt;      The field in her dreams is a field of beautiful wildflowers.&lt;br /&gt;   -Meaning: Simplicity&lt;br /&gt;   -New meaning when it 'comes back': The need to make her life seem more simple&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-The Bridge&lt;br /&gt;       When Abel takes her to his home (the location of the vampire coven), they cross a wooden bridge.&lt;br /&gt;   -Meaning: The 'threshold' of a new chapter in her life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-1259268059440937331?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/1259268059440937331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=1259268059440937331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/1259268059440937331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/1259268059440937331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/10/woo-hoo.html' title='Woo-hoo!'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-5726753199289383312</id><published>2007-10-30T23:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T23:23:11.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My version of the Vampire (like I promised ^.^)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In my novel, vampires are seen undead immortals who posses super-strength as well as highly sensitive senses, such as smell, sight, sound, etc. Vampires heal very quickly, almost immediately, making them hard to harm. They never age any more than the age they were when turned into a vampire, although their hair and nails continue growing, like a normal corpse would. They never get worn out, although they do sleep, they don’t necessarily have to breathe, and they have a strange way of enticing their prey--humans. They are great hypnotists, making people come to them and give in to them. Also, they are extremely beautiful. But, they still have their weaknesses:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-They must sleep in a handful of dirt of their native land lining their ‘coffin’&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-They cannot face sunlight, as it will burn them to ashes&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-They are ultra-sensitive to heat (fire, strong florescent lights…)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-They must feed often, or they will get weak&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;-They cannot drink their own blood, or any other vampires’ blood, as it is already ‘dead blood’&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;h2&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;MYTHS&lt;/h2&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Vampires do not fear holy water, crucifixes, or any other religious-related objects. Also, due to their fast healing, impalement by a stake (to any part of their body) will not harm them. They have grown to be immune to silver, although it takes a bit longer for a wound caused by it to heal…and it is very painful…but not fatal.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-5726753199289383312?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/5726753199289383312/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=5726753199289383312' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/5726753199289383312'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/5726753199289383312'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-version-of-vampire-like-i-promised.html' title='My version of the Vampire (like I promised ^.^)'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-2602950516930552594</id><published>2007-10-29T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T14:19:37.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Title</title><content type='html'>The thing that usually ends up being the most important after you're through reading a book is its name... And up until about 5 min. ago, I had no idea what I would name my novel. BUT now isn't 5 min. ago...now is now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've settled on the title.... &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What is the Earth's&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, you don't get it now, being it's a subtle sub-plot type thing that runs throughout the novel. It has something to do with my version of the vampire (which I'll post soon enough). You see, the Earth is a living thing, although it may not be alive the same way we are. And everything comes from it--the plants, the animals, ourselves. When we die, out body returns to the Earth. We belong to it.  Because  of this, vampires, whom are undead, do not go back into the Earth, which makes it angry. To satisfy the Earth's hunger they sleep with a handful or so of soil from their native land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Vivian was brought back from the coma and certain death by unnatural means, she cheated Earth. And Earth would take her back as soon as she could. Which is why she needs to die in the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-2602950516930552594?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/2602950516930552594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=2602950516930552594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/2602950516930552594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/2602950516930552594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/10/title.html' title='Title'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-7939162092272521707</id><published>2007-10-26T08:33:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-26T09:52:19.511-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Part I</title><content type='html'>Well, since Part I of the novel is so much longer than the other parts, I thought that I should make a more detailed outline of it so that when the time comes, and it's coming pretty fast, I won't get all confused and end up quitting. Organization is the key!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. Blood&lt;br /&gt;  A. Starts being aware that she is not dead&lt;br /&gt;      1. Starts 'slipping' away&lt;br /&gt;  B. Hears her parents murmuring&lt;br /&gt;      1. Cannot make out the works&lt;br /&gt;  C. Vampire blood injected into her bloodstream&lt;br /&gt;      1. Feels her limbs wake up&lt;br /&gt;  D. Plummets into a vivid dream&lt;br /&gt;      1. In a field of wildflowers&lt;br /&gt;      2. Forced into nearby cabin by rainstorm&lt;br /&gt;      3. Sees Abel for the first time&lt;br /&gt;          a. Amazed by his beauty and blue eyes&lt;br /&gt;  E. Wakes with a start&lt;br /&gt;      1. Is able to hear her parents running down the hall&lt;br /&gt;II. Calling&lt;br /&gt;  A. Realizes her enhanced senses&lt;br /&gt;      1. Perfect night vision&lt;br /&gt;          a. Sees things a lot clearer&lt;br /&gt;      2. Smell&lt;br /&gt;     3. Great hearing&lt;br /&gt;  B. Feels strong&lt;br /&gt;  C. Calls the doctor to find out what happened&lt;br /&gt;      1. Doctor amazed that she is alive and well&lt;br /&gt;      2. Tells her about the car accident and coma&lt;br /&gt;          a. Remembers a light moving towards her&lt;br /&gt;      b. Remembers the 'boom' of the collision&lt;br /&gt;III. Morning&lt;br /&gt;  A. Realizes limitations&lt;br /&gt;         1. Sensitive to sunlight&lt;br /&gt;          a. It hurts her eyes&lt;br /&gt;      2. Warmth makes her sleepy&lt;br /&gt;          a. Has a hard time staying during the day&lt;br /&gt;  B. Parents come to see her&lt;br /&gt;      1. She asks why they ran away last night&lt;br /&gt;      2. They deny they were present&lt;br /&gt;  C. Alice comes visit her&lt;br /&gt;      1. Is glad that she's okay&lt;br /&gt;      2. Tells her that everyone else was worried as well&lt;br /&gt;  D. Vivian tells Alice about strange dream&lt;br /&gt;IV. Release&lt;br /&gt;  A. Week passes, Vivian is released&lt;br /&gt;      1. Continued having strange dreams, but had not spoken to Abel&lt;br /&gt;  B. Starts home study&lt;br /&gt;  C. Friends surprise her with a visit in the evening&lt;br /&gt;      1. Mathew brings her flowers&lt;br /&gt;      2. Candace, Loren, Alice talk with her&lt;br /&gt;  D. They invite her to the movies&lt;br /&gt;      1. Mathew's hiccups gets them kicked out&lt;br /&gt;V. Abel&lt;br /&gt;  A. Finally gets the courage to speak to Abel&lt;br /&gt;  B. He questions her why she has been haunting his dreams&lt;br /&gt;      1. Surprised that he would ask her that&lt;br /&gt;  C. They convince one another that they are both real&lt;br /&gt;VI. Adjustments&lt;br /&gt;  A. Decides to be home-schooled&lt;br /&gt;      1. Has hard time staying awake in sunlight&lt;br /&gt;     2. Must wear heavy sunscreen and sunglasses to go out in the day&lt;br /&gt;  B. Sleeping routine changes dramatically&lt;br /&gt;      1. Sleeps all day&lt;br /&gt;      2. Gets up when the sun is setting&lt;br /&gt;  C. Parents notice and worry&lt;br /&gt;      1. Wonder if vampire blood effected her&lt;br /&gt;      2. They keep quiet&lt;br /&gt;D. Starts falling away from her friends&lt;br /&gt;   1. She stops calling them&lt;br /&gt;   2. Stops taking their calls&lt;br /&gt;   3. Stops going out with them&lt;br /&gt;V. Gets to know Abel better&lt;br /&gt;   A. They interact well&lt;br /&gt;       1. They respect each other&lt;br /&gt;   B. He tells her about himself&lt;br /&gt;       1. Born in France&lt;br /&gt;       2. US immigrant&lt;br /&gt;       3. Vampire&lt;br /&gt;          a. She believes him simply because it's a dream&lt;br /&gt;   C. She tells him about herself&lt;br /&gt;       1. Tells him of her parents&lt;br /&gt;VI. Revealed secrets&lt;br /&gt;   A. Tell her to investigate what their real job is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, from there, everything takes a change... She learns that vampires are real, and that she has vampire blood running in her veins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-7939162092272521707?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/7939162092272521707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=7939162092272521707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/7939162092272521707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/7939162092272521707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/10/part-i.html' title='Part I'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-671799605856337793</id><published>2007-10-17T12:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T13:12:17.998-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Division of the novel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v51/Alatarial/graph.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 359px; height: 277px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v51/Alatarial/graph.png" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized that I can't have each section of the plot have the same amount of pages...simply because some are more important than others. I was a bit worried about how to organize it, how many words/pages I would have to write per day for each section, so I made this graph to help me organize my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see, part 1 is the longest section. This is where Vivian, my MC, will learn to deal with her new 'abilities', get to know Abel in her dreams, and where the major part of character development will take place. It's not half of the novel...only about 38% of it, which is 57 pages. If I write 5 pages per day, that means that I would spend 11 full days and half a day on this section.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Section 2 and  3 would have around 22.5 pages each, taking me a total of 9 days on both of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd have about 32.5 pages for section 4, spending almost 7 days on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Section five, being the last section, will be the shortest with only about 10.5 pages. It should take me around 2 days to write it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soooooo... in total my novel would end up to be around 145 pages long...maybe 150, if I keep on track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&gt;.&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brain is now fried from all the math I just did.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-671799605856337793?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/671799605856337793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=671799605856337793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/671799605856337793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/671799605856337793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/10/division-of-novel.html' title='Division of the novel'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-7078709977319404509</id><published>2007-10-16T19:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T19:55:56.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grrrr</title><content type='html'>&gt;.&gt; Why must stringing the whole thing together must be such a painful thing to do? I've got the action plot down... I just need to find a way weave the love-story through it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-7078709977319404509?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/7078709977319404509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=7078709977319404509' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/7078709977319404509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/7078709977319404509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/10/grrrr.html' title='Grrrr'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-5527496141227659396</id><published>2007-10-15T14:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-31T14:10:45.861-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Settings</title><content type='html'>Oh my, I do love California, and because I do the setting needs to be California-ish ^.^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Vivian (MC) lives at home with her parents in a big, modern-styled house in the foothills. I want to have an entire side of the house's first floor to be made out of glass... It's supposed to just show that they are sort of an upper-class family ^.^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The V.I.S. headquarters will be in a large basement of an insurance company...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Vampire Coven will be in an abandoned gold mine, but they pimp it up =)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the 'dream' setting will be a field of wildflowers with a log cabin nearby ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think that's about it for the main settings...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for minor settings, though, there will be a bridge (quite important), and a basement (also important)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-5527496141227659396?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/5527496141227659396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=5527496141227659396' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/5527496141227659396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/5527496141227659396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/10/settings.html' title='Settings'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-1047846168276920791</id><published>2007-10-12T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T09:39:14.139-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Character List</title><content type='html'>Alrighty, then... In my point of view, character development is the most essential thing to a novel, because the plot is based around what happens to them and how they deal with it. So, here's my character list with a few things about them...just the basics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(MC) Vivian Cooper- A 17 y/o girl whose life changes after a car accident when she wakes up from a short coma&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(THE vampire) Abel Gray- A gorgeous, self-centered '20-y/o' (only in appearance)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Mom) Carmen Cooper- A Salvadorian immigrant, head of investigation for V.I.S.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Dad) Andre Cooper- A professional vampire slayer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Vampire Coven Leader) Circe Crowly- A hauntingly beautiful woman with a cold heart&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Head of V.I.S.) Anthony Reed- A tall, lanky fellow filled with hate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(MC'S confidant) Alice Sheppard- A quiet girl with big brown eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(friend) Loren- A short, hyper girl who loves to talk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(friend) Candace- The tag-along of the group&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(friend) Mathew- A good-looking 17 y/o boy who is attracted to Vivian&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's it =P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-1047846168276920791?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/1047846168276920791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=1047846168276920791' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/1047846168276920791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/1047846168276920791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/10/character-list.html' title='Character List'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-8336380244742280194</id><published>2007-10-08T22:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T22:50:43.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>BASIC PLOT -WOOT-</title><content type='html'>Alright, for all of those who are interested in my nanowrimo entry... here's a crude idea of how the plotline will go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I. Vivian (MC) wakes up from her4-day coma, adjusts to life with its 'vampiric' limitations, starts having strange dreams with a gorgeous vampire named Abel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;II. Vivian questions her parents about her dreams and new limitations/abilities, they tell her of vampires, V.I.S. (vampire investigation and slaying), and how they injected vampire blood into her to wake her from coma...explains connection with 'the vampire'...falls in love with Abel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;III. Goes to V.I.S. headquarters with parents (out of curiosity), meets Abel face to face during vampire attack on V.I.S., he takes her to vampire coven, she is rejected by the others and seen as a threat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IV. Vivian persecuted by vampires, returns home, persecuted by V.I.S. (being 'involved' with the enemy'), is confused&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;V. (ENDING) A full-out war between V.I.S. and the vampire coven. ((And now comes the hard part...still not sure on how it will actually end))&lt;br /&gt;Ending #1- Vivian, not caring about being killed, sets out for the vampire coven, not able to live without her love...just entering the coven, she finds the coven leader who kills her. Her last image is seeing Abel running towards her.&lt;br /&gt;Ending #2- Abel sets out to Vivian's house, but V.I.S. kills him before he reaches her. She finds out through her parents that he is dead.&lt;br /&gt;Ending #3-Vivian and Abel meet in a planned location, but somehow were tracked and both are killed in each other's arms.&lt;br /&gt;Ending #4- Planning to escape their fates, Vivian and Abel leave the city together, but on the way out, they have a freak accident and die anyways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone thinks that a happy ending could work out, without being too cliche, let me know ^.^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-8336380244742280194?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/8336380244742280194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=8336380244742280194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8336380244742280194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/8336380244742280194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/10/basic-plot-woot.html' title='BASIC PLOT -WOOT-'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2432559596972244061.post-3386644544345241049</id><published>2007-10-04T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-04T16:28:28.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>'Ello</title><content type='html'>Hi everyone, if anyone, who just happens to be reading this at the moment...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just decided that I would forget the plot (and it's ENTIRE chapter-by-chapter outline) of my 'planned'  nanowrimo (a futuristic sci-fi novel), because I think that, because I've written this story once before, it would be cheating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO it's October 4th, and I have an idea for a FANTASY novel. I have found myself, for the looongest time, obsessed with vampires, so they will obviously be part of my plot   ^.^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My MC (or at least my PLANNED MC) will be a 17 y/o girl whose parents, vampire hunters, inject quite a lot of vampiric blood into her to wake her up from a coma. However, this gives her a strange connection with the vampire and gives her some vampiric symptoms. Her sleep pattern changed, her night vision is perfect, she has increased strength... And everytime she closes her eyes, she sees a beautiful stranger and falls madly in love with him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the stranger is the vampire whose blood saved her life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2432559596972244061-3386644544345241049?l=writingtherosesred.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/feeds/3386644544345241049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2432559596972244061&amp;postID=3386644544345241049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3386644544345241049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2432559596972244061/posts/default/3386644544345241049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://writingtherosesred.blogspot.com/2007/10/ello.html' title='&apos;Ello'/><author><name>Elen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12624471197973702502</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_YmVJdWxG5uA/SO18RCr067I/AAAAAAAAAAQ/Bb2x01qVh7Y/S220/182957.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
