The Author's Plot

Emma persevered up the hill, she was in sight of her destination which stood a couple of yards ahead of her.  She continued to place one foot in front of the other, refusing to back down.  She gulped in refreshing breaths, then exhaled out.  Emma thanked God for the refreshing wind which blew against her sweaty flesh.  She hiked up a couple more yards, strengthening the muscles in her legs, which were weak from the trip up.  Finally, she arrived at the tip of her destination, and stared out at the other beautiful hills, some towering even higher then she was now.  The bare hills rose high above her, and the camp which lay below.  

  Few juniper trees grew on the hills, and she stood on a small boulder protruding from the ground.  Dead grass buried the hills behind it, along with dry bushes and tumbleweeds.  Emma gulped in the fresh air, and listened to the gentle breeze blowing her blonde hair behind her.  She wondered at the Author’s amazing handiwork, and of the many people who had scaled this hill.  Many people who hiked this small hill, and many others surrounding it, who all had a special play in the Author’s Plot. 

(This isn't the actual view I saw, this is a different hill)

My name is Emma, and I am a writer.  I have started this blog to keep up with my writing, and to share some lessons I've learned about writing so far in my thirteen years.  Also, to discuss the things I have learned about the Author of my life, and of the world.