I Call Myself A Writer


Today, or at least this month, marks an entire year I started to write seriously.

One year of looking at screens and seeing my story come to life.

One year of playlists.

One year of bacon crumbles.

One full year since Gale Darn became Gale Darn.

One year of hopelessly wanting to meet characters.

One year. 75k worth of words total.

In all honesty, it all started way before last year.


I think I first got into writing by peeking over my sister’s shoulder. I dunno if I was five or six, but I do remember hearing the worst shriek ever heard in real life, and that I was promptly booted out and placed in the hall for an indefinite period of time.

It mighta been an hour later, but eventually I got invited back in and was allowed to take a sneak peak at my sister’s WIP.

If you’re reading this, Ate, thank you for putting up with me. It means a lot. 🙂

Like a lot a lot. ❤

Anyway, that was my first introduction to the wonderful world of writing: characters, theme, bad guys who were really just overgrown kids, laughing over dialogue, it was awesome. And now that I look back, I’m surprised my sister even let me know her WIP existed. Huh. I mean, I wouldn’t have told my five year old self I had a WIP. But anyway, the whole idea fascinated me for a couple weeks.

Aaaand I forgot about it.


Fast forward a few years later, and I was 7, puzzling over my first poem. Which was a terrible epic about a Loyalist in the Revolution whose greatest secret was a wig. Yes, no kidding.

My first plot bunny was a crazy tale of a girl who was forced out of her home and roamed the streets of 1950 New York. Again, no kidding. 😛 That particular story begins with a flashback. How entirely original.

All that to say, stories have been in me for a while. I guess now I just decided not to bottle it up anymore.

Or rather, a year ago.

How was it a year?

I’m gonna be honest (which I try to be, for the most part, sometimes painfully so) sometimes I look back and groan. I’ve been writing for a year and I haven’t finished a single draft? I haven’t edited a single complete book? I didn’t even submit any of my stories to anything?

I thought I was a writer.

And while some of that doubt is thanks to nosy people that are also known as family and friends, a good deal of that is thanks to myself.

Publishing would mean the world to me.

And I’m nowhere near that.

Maybe I’m not cut out for this kinda thing. Maybe I should stick to my comfortable old self, the one that daydreamed her stories instead of writing so others could see them too. Maybe I should just let it go. Leave the doc open, but never read through it.

Because if I’m a writer, why on earth am I not writing anything worth writing?


Thing is… publishing is not why I started writing.

Writing is why I started writing. XD I write because I love to write, because I love putting words on paper.. on or a screen. Whichever I get my hands on first. 😛

So I think I’m done mentally beating myself up over not being a published author of a great series of novels yet. I’ve only been writing for like a year and 6 more years. XD Writing shouldn’t feel like a chore, but something fun, new, something completely the opposite of school. Unless you like school. Then it’s very similar.

But yeah. Here’s to one year, and hopefully more coherent posts to come. 😀



*coughcough* um, at the same time, I’ve been working on a project that’s been under wraps for a while. 🙂

Life is a highway,





New from the Audiosmiths!

First and only order of business:

After hours and hours of excruciating (read: 12 hours of splicing) work, there’s a new audio drama out on the channel, and we’d be seriously eternally grateful if you could give that a listen! And a like, but that’s not really necessary. XD Watch it here:



I tried to fix the editing, but like everything, this kinda thing gets better only with time and experience. So. Hope you like it! Also I put up a page where you can listen to previously released shows, so hopefully y’all are reading this on the actual blog and not on the dreadful reader. XD

And here’s the script if you’re interested. Actually please read it with the script. 😛 It’ll be much better.




SFX: Chimes sound, the sea calls.


Narrator (in memory): He always walked with hat in hand, his gray hair was smoothly combed to his skull and drawn together behind in a queue- this must have been one of the last queues in Prague.


SFX: footsteps, dull rain.


Mr. Rybar (musing, happily): Zhaw, the sea! Why don’t we live by the sea!


Stranger (sighs) : This is a lovely chapel. And these stones!


Mr. Rybar (continues to muse): You know what I think? Here in Bohemia a shepherd throws a stone after his herd, and the stone is often worth more than the whole herd!


Stranger (taken aback): I beg your pardon?


Narrator (voiceover, laughing slightly): He never made any other observations to them. (serious, deep in thought) He would know about such stones. It was rumoured that Mr. Rybar was immensely rich, not in money, no, but in jewels. There were people who had seen them, square black boxes divided into squares. Every square held a jewel, gleaming. They said he had found and collected them all himself on Mount Kozak.


SFX: footsteps walking, people murmuring, street sounds.


Canon Fat Man 1 (loudly) : Indeed, France is pursuing liberty- fancy ever getting it!


Canon Smaller But Equally Fat Man 2: Is that even possible?


SFX: a person whistling, rustling.


Narrator (explanatory): Mr. Rybar would whistle whenever he spoke, and he loved to exchange friendly words with anyone.


Mr. Rybar (whistling, then clears throat): Zhaw, I hold with Rosenau!  Rosenau says:(tries to remember) Ah, Rosenau says, Liberty is like those rich foods and..potent wines, yes,I remember, wines on which strong natures that are used to them thrive and grow stronger, but which only debauch, intoxicate, and ruin, utter ruin! Feeble constitutions. Good day! (walks off)


SFX: footsteps, street noise

Canon Fat Man 1 (startled and confused):Uh, who’s this “Rosenau” he’s always talking about?


Canon Smaller But Equally Fat Man 2 (struggles to come up with something): a writer! Most probably a writer. I think.


Narrator (voiceover): (musing) I remember that sentence as the sum of entire higher wisdom! Yet later found that it was Rousseau, not Rosenau who had first uttered that esteemed quote. A pity that a slight printer’s error had mis led Mr. Rybar so. But he was good. A very good man!


SFX: street noise, louder, heavy footsteps.


Stranger (exclaims in surprise): Mr. Rybar’s marching down the hill!


SFX: slight crowd gasps


Mr. Herzl: Ah, he’s gone to show off his riches! Look, he holds a box full of his jewels!


Mr Vitous (laughs bitterly): Well, I declare! Things must be going bad for him, he’s going to sell his precious stones.


Mr. Herzl (accusingly): So says the only nearly bankrupt shopkeeper of Prague.


Mr. Vitous: Hpmh.


SFX: a bell rings, foot steps walk, and a door creaks.


Narrator 2: Mr. Rybar is at the professor Muhlwenzel,expert in geology.


Professor Muhlwenzel(laughs): Mr. Rybar! How good of you to come. Sit, sit! What can I do for you?


SFX: a box being placed on the table, someone sitting


Mr. Rybar (stammers): I should- I only- these things, about what would their value be? The jewels?


SFX: a rock being picked up.


Professor Muhlwenzel: Hm. (picks one up) This one is moldavite.


Mr. Rybar: (confused) What?


Professor Muhlwenzel: (as if it’s obvious) Moldavite.


Mr. Rybar:(pretends to know what it is) Zhaw, moldavite.


Professor Muhlwenzel: That would be a good item for our school collection, you know. They’re rather scarce now. You could sell it to us.


Mr. Rybar: (short laugh) Well, we’ll see about that. About how much?


Professor Muhlwenzel: (matter of factly) We could give you three zlatkas for it, in twenties.


At this, Mr. Rybar is shocked, and dismayed, throat tight.


Mr. Rybar: (shocked) Three zlatkas! (breath shaky) And the rest?


SFX: rocks being moved around.


Professor Muhlwenzel: Eh, chalcedony, jasper, amethyst, smoke-quartz.. There’s nothing of value here.


Mr. Rybar: (gasping) Zhaw, nothing of value..


Narrator: (sadly) he did not go out of the house again. Or to Bruska, or the ramparts. (regretfully) And it was such a beautiful day!


SFX: sea calling, winds chiming, door creaking.


Mr. Rybar: (to himself, bitterly) The sea- why have we no sea! (picks up box of rocks) (louder) Pebbles- just pebbles! (flings rocks through window)


SFX: rock being thrown, glass breaking, footsteps walking in)


Mr. Sajvl: (suddenly, amidst the stones being thrown) Uncle! Whatever are you doing?


SFX: a man sighing, door creaking


Mr. Sajvl: (gently) Uncle, surely you don’t want to throw out all those beautiful stones?


Mr. Rybar: (softly, sadly) They’re of no value- mere pebbles!


Mr. Sajvl: But they have a value all the same, for us and for you. You collected them all yourself, at the expense of a great deal of effort- Uncle, please leave them for my children. They’ll learn from them, you can explain all about them, and how you gathered them-


Mr. Rybar: (bitterly) But perhaps you were thinking that I was rich- and indeed, I thought-


Mr. Sajvl: (pleadingly) Uncle,do you think we’re not rich in you? My children would have no grandfather, my wife- fatherless! Surely you see how happy we are with you, you are our blessing around the house-


SFX: sudden footsteps, window being opened, air swooping through.


Mr. Rybar:(in tears) The sea! Why have we no sea?


Narrator: I won’t tell anymore. I can’t.


SFX: Chimes sound, then the sea calls.


Hope you enjoyed! 😀


The Secret Thing I Was Working On, Pt. 1


Heyo people of the earth. *waves*

So you know how I’ve tossed put The Ugly Duckling reimagining on the shelf in exchange for this new, secret project I’ve kept under wraps? It’s finished now. 😀 And what is this secret project, and why am I so excited?

Lemme explain.

One of the many assignments I was compelled to complete was to write a dramatic one act, one scene play. I was told to go all out and reveal the main character’s characteristics. Then, after it was finished, I was supposed to publish it.

Now, if you’re anything but a homeschooler, that comes in easy for you- you can read it to your class. Even if ya go to co-op, it’s still something. But when you’re me, well, you have to be a lil smidge creative.

Hence posting the script on the blog. Hehe. But I digress, here it is, in all its nonexistent glory… Izoria’s Choice!


Izoria’s Choice- Act 1, Scene 1


  (The setting is a fine, fancy home, that some would call a mansion if it were thought of, in 1870s Boston. Izoria Rose is seated on an elegant couch next to Alistair Desmond, and the two are laughing.)


Alistair(just finished laughing): And might I say you look simply stunning, Miss Rose? As far as I have seen there is no other lady in all of Boston with looks to equal yours.


Izoria(flattered): You’re quite the charmer, Mr. Desmond.


Alistair: Why, the only one who’s a charm is you, my dear.




[Alistair is about to say something seriously, when Louisa comes in.]


Alistair:(in a serious tone) You know, Izoria, we’ve never really discussed-


Louisa:(walks in suddenly, interrupting Alistair and startling both Izoria and Alistair) I’m sorry to interrupt! I just received a telegram for you, Miss Rose.


Alistair:(is slightly annoyed)Child!Of course you should be. Now-


Izoria:(smiles and responds kindly, interrupting Alistair)Alistair, it’s quite alright. (to Louisa) Who’s it from, dear?


Alistair:(mutters to himself)She should be calling me dear..


Louisa:A man named Kintly, from..(looks at paper)Oklahoma. Shall I leave it out on your table?


Izoria:Would you kindly read it for me, if that’s all right? I’d hate to keep whoever he is waiting.


Louisa: Of course,Miss Rose. (rustles paper as she starts to read)(reads out loud) To whom it may concern, stop. This is a friend of Erie Rose, stop.


[At the mention of Erie Rose, Izoria is taken by surprise.]


Izoria(gasping): Erie Rose? Are you sure that’s the name?


Alistair(in concern): What is it my dear? What has forcibly come into your heart and has left you so? Will I need so summon a doctor,my flower?


Louisa(matter of factly): I’m very sure.


Izoria(trying to be calm):Oh, I’m alright. It’s not(sighs) every day a friend of the father that.. (hesitates)disowned you sends word by telegram, of all things.(hurriedly) Do read on, please, Louisa.


Alistair(alarmed): Disowned? How is-


Izoria: Hush, Louisa is reading.


Louisa:(aloud) Send word to Izoria Rose that her father is dying, stop. She must come by the time she hears of this, stop. He must see her one last time, stop. (is done) That’s it, Miss Rose. Are- are you alright, really? (is worried) You look pale.


Izoria(shaking): Am I?(suddenly raises her voice)What more does he want from me?


Alistair(tries to calm Izoria down): Now, now, my dear, don’t make a fuss. I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation to all things.


Izoria(raises her voice): But you don’t understand! Erie Rose is my father!


Louisa(pipes in): I knew that.


Alistair: And I surmised,my flower. Tell me- tell us, what leaves you so drained of blood, of life, of your very spirit?


Izoria(exhales): My mother died giving birth to me. Father-(sighs,sniffles) he’d take his grief out on me, never happy in whatever I did, even if it was to please him.(muses, as if to herself) I always thought he cast me off entirely after he moved to the West and disowned me..


Louisa(taken aback): Oh no, I’m so sorry!


Alistair(tries to comfort as eloquently as possible): Oh Izoria! My love, my dear, my all! What is cruelty to leave you so, what-


Izoria(hasn’t paid attention to Alistair’s spiel)(murmurs):And now,after everything he’s put me through, he’s finally leaving this life. What could he possibly want to put me through now? I’ve suffered enough.


Alistair:Then send word that you won’t come to see him, it’s as simple as that. Nobody should suffer seeing an abuser, especially yourself!


Izoria: But,(pauses)it might be something important. A last order,or a will. (gets mad) What do I care for his words? That’s all they are and all they will ever be!


Alistair: Precisely, my gem among common stones. (to Louisa) Louisa, darling, prepare pen and paper, won’t you please?


Louisa: Yes, sir. (about to go off when Izoria stops her)


Izoria(suddenly): No, wait. I- (sighs) He’s still my father. I should go see him, especially if it’s his death I’ll come to.(to Louisa)Would you fetch my trunk, dear?


Louisa: Yes, Miss Rose. (walks out)


Alister(protesting): Absolutely not! You should be with someone you really love, not a man who’s maltreated you and left you on your own.
Izoria(sounds like she’s crying but determined): I do love you- but as long as I never see him again, I can brave it out I’m sure. (sighs with force) As long as I never see him again.


 I don’t write romances. I hate them. 😛 But oh well. Thoughts? Opinions? Death threats? Lemme know. And remember– there’s a possible part 2. 😉 Have a great day!