Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Beautiful People: Darrilynn Barker

This week I'm going to be participating in the Beautiful People blog meme from over at Further up and Further in.  I'll be answering questions about one of my "beautiful people-" aka, one of my characters.  I've chosen to answer the questions for Darrilynn Barker this week.  She's one of the two main characters in Dawns Rise.  Now, I know I've been taking a break from that story, but I've been craving to write some Dawns Rise lately, and I'm hoping this will satisfy me.  So, without further ado, here is Darrilynn Barker.

  1. What first inspired this character?
  Well, I first created Darrilynn’s character around the new year of 2013.  I originally based her off myself, however it was a very poor copy- you would think I’d know myself a little bit better.  But after three years of changing, and being rewritten, Darrilynn now has no trace of me whatsoever.  
Is there a person/actor you based them off?
  Well, if you see my top answer, you’ll find out.  

  1. Describe their daily routine.
Darrilynn’s routine consists of waking up around nine o’clock- she’s homeschooled, so her mom let’s her sleep in.  Darrilynn will then go downstairs, have some breakfast, then get school done while her mom is at work.  Then she will practice either archery or sword fighting for hours, until sweat soaks her body.  When her mom has gotten home, Darrilynn would have done a variety of these, as long as it consists of moving the entire time.  
  She and her mom then usually practice martial arts together- Darrilynn is taught by her mom.  After a long while of sweating and gaining bruises, she and her mom eat dinner.  A little while later, she will go to her room, then fall asleep early.  She enjoys her sleep.
  1. If they joined your local high school, what clique would they fit into?
  Well, that question is kind of difficult to answer, because I’m homeschooled.  So, I’ll just have to leave this one unanswered.


  1. Write a list of things they merely tolerate. Ex: certain people, foods, circumstances in their lives...
1. Being still
2. Fear
3. Her mom’s cooking
4. Tears
5. Religion
6. Reading

  1. How do they react in awkward silences?
  Well, knowing Darrilynn, she probably stayed quiet during the conversation, and wanted to leave anyways, so the awkward silence would just give her an excuse to leave.
  1. Can they swim? If so, how did they learn?
  Nope.  Darrilynn cannot and does not like to swim.  She has hardly even stepped inside a public swimming area.  She has never swam, and doesn’t even like to touch water- cold water, specifically.
  1. What is one major event that helped shape who they are?
   One day when Darrilynn was twelve years old, she and her mom were hanging out in a hotel room (her family use to do nothing but travel, so they spent a lot of time in hotels), when there was a knock on their door.  Her mom opened it to see an officer.  Without a word, her mom stepped outside of the room, and shut the door.  Darrilynn tried to listen to the conversation, but she didn’t hear anything besides her mom sobbing.  
  A few minutes later, her mom walked into the room- with tear filled eyes- and told Darrilynn that her dad had been murdered.
  1. What things do they value most in life?
  Darrilynn values loyalty, and family above all else.  She will do anything to keep her family- being her mom- close by.  Anyone that gets in her way, if her mom is in danger, will be torn down.
 
  1. Do they believe in giving other people second chances?
  No.  Darrilynn would never give anyone who betrayed her a second chance.
Do they have any trust issues?
  I don’t think she has any trust issues because of some major thing which happened to her, but she does tend to hold in secrets more often than tell them.
  1. Your character is having a rough day...what things do they do to
make them happy again?
  Well, Darrilynn isn’t really ever “happy.”  She’s not grumpy, but she’s not a necessarily happy person.  But if she’s upset, that probably means she’s on the verge of tears- which would make her just angry.  Darrilynn would probably go practice sword fighting until she’s forgotten her problems, and is in the instinctive rhythm of hitting the dummy with her sword.
Is there anyone they talk/interact with to get in a better mood?
  The only person Darrilynn would ever consider would be her mom.  But even then, she wouldn’t want to bug her.  So, it’s a very unlikely option that Darrilynn would talk to her mom to get into a better mood.


Wednesday, March 23, 2016

I'm a Christian... and I write about dark things

  I’m aware that a lot of people aren’t going to agree with my post- I’ve already met people who disagree.  But please bear with me.
  Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Hunger Games, and the Door Within trilogy- I read and have watched all of these at some point in my life, and *gasp* I enjoyed them!  I found valuable lessons in all of them!  Surprising right!?  
  I draw inspiration for my stories from what I read- so yes, you could call what I write “dark.”  It has magic, and gruesome creatures, death, and broken characters (actually, I haven’t quite reached that emotional trauma of broken characters yet, but I’m learning).  
  I can imagine people reading this and being confused on why I would find such things good or enjoyable.  
  Before I explain anything, here is the definition of “dark.”  With little or no light.  There.  Are you satisfied?  Well, I’m not.  I’m a word freak, bear with me as I display the definition of the polar opposite: light.  Having a considerable or sufficient amount of natural light.  Since we’re talking of dark in a spiritual sense, it’s only fair to speak of light in the same terms.  Natural light, therefore, can only have one true definition and symbol, which would be Jesus Christ.  Darkness is obviously our hearts- the hearts of man.  It drags all the way back to the Garden of Eden, where Adam and Eve sinned, and were separated from God.  Their hearts turned black, and dark- no light could be let in, and there could be no darkness in light.  
  So, there is the establishment of “dark” for the moment.  “Dark” is not the common belief of heavy subjects such as murder, magic, and battles.  “Darkness,” by definition, is the complete lack of light- no good in it, whatsoever.  
  Now, another common belief among Christians (at least from what I have witnessed), is that every secular book is completely dark, they have no light in them at all.  Which brings me back the two series I mentioned earlier- The Hunger Games, and Harry Potter.  These two popular series are always up for debate, whether they have dark themes, light themes, or if maybe they are just hollow with no deeper meaning to them.  From the definitions we set up earlier, neither of these books are dark.  That being said, they are not Christian books, and therefore have no natural light to them.  That doesn’t mean however that they are completely lost in beautiful biblical themes though.  That’s right.  I just said Harry Potter and The Hunger Games has biblical themes.  I can imagine some of you being completely revolted by now.
  In order to explain this belief though, I need to explain another concept- be back in a moment (sorry for jumping around so much).  
  Step back from the cute little bible stories you know, and the hopeful story layering beneath it, and look at the bible as simply a book and a story.  The bible is probably the “darkest (by common definition)” book in the universe- if you look at it as just a story, not something to believe in.  The reason it is such a light filled book, is obviously because of Christ.  Jesus Christ, God, the crucifixion, and the rising is what makes it a book that makes us find peace and hope in it- and the fact that it’s true makes it so much sweeter.  But my point is, we are all dark, but Jesus’ redemption, and hope- His light- floods out the darkness once we’ve accepted it.  
  The darkness and the light is always in battle inside of us, therefore we relate to characters who are always in the darkness, who are being seeked by redemption, but runs from it instead.  I don’t think many people are going to like me at this moment, but I am saying that a lot (not all) of books in the Christian market display perfect people who never battle with evil, they always know exactly what to do, and do it with ease.  The only problem is now to get past the horrible bad guys who don’t believe in God- preaching to them along the way also.  Yeah, that’s a good book, I guess.  People look at it longingly, and think, I wish I didn’t have problems, like them.  No, this isn’t relatable.  
  Characters who battle with the darkness, who have suicidal thoughts, going through depression, angry at God since they were little children.  This is what we can relate to, not the other stuff.
  We want stories of characters battling the darkness in them, then coming out in faith of hope and redemption.  
Whatever I tell you in the dark, speak in the light; and what you hear in the ear, preach on the housetops.  Matthew 10:27
  This is where I mention The Hunger Games and Harry Potter once again.  The Hunger Games series is about a girl dealing and battling with her beliefs of self sacrifice, death, life, and murder.  And coming out in the end, still battling with these things- and the traumatic experiences she has witnessed- but now seeking out love, hope, and peace.  
  Harry Potter is a story of an abused boy, hopeless, and sure he’s worthless.  Then he is told he’s so much more than that.  But he still deals with his past insecurities, piled on with new ones.  He deals with hopelessness, self sacrifice, doubts of importance, death, love, friendship, overwhelming burdens, and bravery.  And in the end, he still faces those things, but with hope, and bravery- with loads of other qualities learned and still battled- he can make the right decision.  
  Those battles and endings, we can all relate too, we can’t relate to the typical Christian characters and stories- I’m sorry.  
  "I write entirely to find out what I'm thinking, what I'm looking at, what I see and what it means. What I want and what I fear." -Joan Didion
 When you pick up a book, you pick up part of an author’s soul.  They spent hours preparing this book for your enjoyment, and cried tears over the hard work.  But they never just write it for the reader.  They write to discover.  As I write, I discover bits and pieces of my soul and my beliefs.  My battles are battled in my story.  I don’t know anything until I write it down.  My hands reveal words of my mind, and battles of my heart I didn’t know about before.  
  So, yes.  I am a Christian, and I am a writer who writes about “dark” things, but in order to examine my mind, and help others to examine their’s.

“For real love brings pain. Real love means sacrifices and hurts and all the thousand shocks of life. But it also means beauty, true beauty.” -Moonblood

Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Baker Street

  Addy and Thacia have entered a new realm! Eliana and I are very excited about this world, and have several ideas for it. We would also like to apologize for how badly written the stories on the Percy Jackson world were. We promise we're going to do better with this new realm, and the ones to come. So, this next story, I have written, and it is set in the fantastic world of BBC's Sherlock. Enjoy!

Thacia and Addy stared down Baker street, watching as a man strolled quietly into an apartment.  Being the adventurers and stalkers they were, they followed closely behind, into the apartment building.  They creaked up the stairs behind him.  Something nagged at the back of Thacia’s mind, something just sudden, that made her stop in her tracks, but she ignored it, and walked on.  As she and Addy reached the top of the stairs, they heard the conversation between the man they had followed, and another man, who they both quickly recognized.  Sherlock.  A broad demented smile stretched across Thacia’s face.  She wanted to laugh for joy and victory, but then, of course, that would give the two of them away.  So she kept her mouth shut.  
  Thacia listened closely, reminding herself she was listening to a possibly historic conversation.  A conversation between the genius mind of Sherlock Holmes, and the infamous, demented Moriarty.  Who both Thacia and Addy stalked.  “Every fairytale needs a good old fashioned villain,” Moriarty said.
  Thacia’s smile broadened, and her eyes got wide at the genius words.  Addy turned around to Thacia, and was also smiling at the genius and truth in those words.  Moriarty was still talking, “You’re on the side of the angels,” he said disappointedly, then pausing.
  Now Sherlock, completely ignored Moriarty, said instead, “Got the jury, of course.”
  “I got into the Tower of London, you don’t think I can’t worm my way into twelve hotel rooms?”  Moriarty replied.
  “Cable network,” Sherlock replied, obviously just coming to this conclusion.
  Bloody brilliant!  Thacia thought.  Not that she’d ever do it- well, maybe- but just bloody brilliant!  “Every person has their pressure point,” Moriarty continued, "Someone they want to keep from harm.  Easy peasy.”
  “So how are you going to do it?”  Sherlock asked, changing the subject again, “Burn me.”  You could hear the mockery in his voice.
  “Oh, that’s the problem.  The final problem.  Have you worked out what it is yet?  What’s the final problem?  I did tell you, but did you listen?”  he sang the last part, and then there was a pause.  “How hard do you find it?  Having to say I don’t know.”
  Addy, in front of Thacia, turned around to Thacia, and whispered, “They change subjects a lot.”
  “I know!”  Thacia mouthed, completely insane as always.
  Thacia watched as Addy crossed her eyes, then turned back to the conversation, where Moriarty was laughing and calling Sherlock clever.  “Have you told your little friends yet?”  he then asked.
  “Told them what?”  Sherlock asked.
  “Why I broke into all those places and never took anything.”
  “No,” Sherlock answered- the least amount of words Thacia had ever heard come out of him.  She gaped dramatically, but quietly, and to herself.  
  “But you understand?”  
  “Obviously." This time, Addy turned to Thacia, and gaped at her, and Thacia almost laughed.
  Moriarty had said something in that moment, then Sherlock replied, “You want me to tell you what you already know?”
  “No, I want you to prove you know it,” Moriarty answered.
  “You didn’t take anything . . . because you don’t need to.”
  “Good.”
  “You’ll never need to take anything ever again.”
  “Very good . . . Because?”  Moriarty prodded Sherlock for answers.
  “Because nothing- nothing- in the bank of England or the tower of London, or the Pentonville prison, could possibly match the value of the key that could get you into all three.”
  “I could open any door, anywhere, with a few tiny lines of computer code.  There’s no such thing as a private bank account now.  They’re all mine.  There’s no such thing as secrecy, I own secrecy.  Nuclear codes, I could blow up nations in alphabetical order.  In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king- and honey, you should see me in a crown,” Moriarty sang the last sentence as a drawn out line.
  Thacia whispered into Addy’s ear, “What is with him and singing?”  
  Addy turned and faced Thacia, and mouthed, “I know!”
  Then they both turned back to the conversation, where Sherlock was talking again, “You could break into any bank, but you care about the highest bidder?”
  “I don’t.  I just like to watch them all competing.  Daddy, loves me the best.  Aren’t ordinary people adorable?  Well you know, you’ve got John.  I should get myself a live in one.”
  “Why are you doing all this?”  Sherlock suddenly asked, clearly at a lost.  Gosh, Sherlock.  Don’t you know anything?
  “Must be so funny,” Moriarty spoke over Sherlock.  From the way he obliviously said it, he seemed to still be on the subject of ordinary people.  
  “You don’t want money, or power, not really.  What is it all for?”  Sherlock asked, again, still contemplating.
  Thacia wanted to laugh in Sherlock’s face.  Moriarty answered, “I want to solve the problem.  Our problem.  The final problem.  It’s gonna start very soon, Sherlock.  The fall… But don’t be scared.  Falling’s just like flying, except there’s a more permanent destination.”
  Thacia heard one of them stand, and the other followed.  “I never liked riddles,” Sherlock said.
  “Learn to,” Moriarty responded.  “Because I owe you a fall, Sherlock.  I...O...U…”
  Then Thacia and Addy heard Moriarty begin to leave the room, and they quickly hid.  Moriarty strolled passed them, as both Thacia and Addy tried to keep from laughing along with their insanity.  After the door shut downstairs, Sherlock spoke from inside his flat, while playing the violin, “You two can come out now.”
  Dying of laughter, they barreled into the room.  “Stop your bumbling, and tell me what you’re doing here,” Sherlock stated, clearly annoyed.
  He practically threw down his violin, tossing it off his shoulder.  After Thacia and Addy got a grip on their laughter, they calmed… and then laughed again.  Thacia could see Sherlock standing in front of them, completely perturbed, and waiting for an explanation.  Addy was first to recover, so she answered through her breaths, as Thacia continued to laugh her head off.  “Oh, gosh.  You two are mad,” Sherlock complained, as Addy began talking.
  “Well, we saw Moriarty strolling along the street, and Thacia said, ‘Hey, isn’t he supposed to be in jail?’  And then I said, ‘Well actually, the jury said he wasn’t guilty, and let him go, and blah, blah, blah.’  And so, we continued discussing this, and finally we realized we were following him, so we just said, ‘Hey-”
  “Oh, stop rambling,” Sherlock interrupted as he turned away, staring out the window.
  Thacia had finally caught her breath, and she objected to his statement, “We’ll ramble if we want to ramble!”
  “Anyways, why are you here?”  Sherlock asked.
  “Because-” Thacia to answer, but something stopped her in her mind.
She stayed silent, trying to figure it out.  But Addy jumped in for her, answering.  Although, Thacia thought her voice sounded unsure of itself too.  “We came for an adventure, because we got bored, and were sick and tired.”
  Sherlock barely glanced behind him, hardly catching a glimpse of Thacia and Addy.  “You’re not sick,” he sniffed the air, “And you smell of the sea.”
  “Well, you smell of the sea!”  Thacia argued.
  “Oh, don’t speak, Thacia.  You lower the IQ on the entire street,” Sherlock said, still staring out the window.
  “Hey!”  Addy shouted, suddenly perturbed, “You got that from me!  I said that to you!”  Addy turned to Thacia, and started talking, “Thacia, he stole that from me.  Can you believe he stole that from me?”
  Sherlock grabbed them by their coats, “Alright, come on.  You can ramble outside.”
  Sherlock pulled Thacia and Addy downstairs, as they yelled at him for taking Addy’s line.  “You’re just jealous, because you haven’t come up with any genius lines,” Addy said, “Only my brother and I can come up with them.”
  Sherlock walked them down the stairs outside, let go, and walked back in, shutting the door.  “I can’t believe he stole your line!” Thacia said, stomping her foot.
  “I know,” Addy responded.
  “It makes me so…” she paused, then smiled, “Perturbed.”
  Addy stared at her weirdly, “Since when do you use the word, perturbed?”
  Thacia shrugged, “It’s my new favorite word.”
  Then they both started laughing.  “He doesn’t even know!”  Thacia shouted, laughing.
  “And never will,” Addy replied.

  Then they walked down Baker Street, laughing like maniacs.