Happy New Year!!!!!!

I know that was directed at me but:
Wow, that sounds very interesting! Is it a series? Who's the author?

Boy, this page has REALLY slowed down, hasn't it?

That's great! I love how it's illustrating that Bible passage

Um,......(nervous laugh) I haven't worked on it at all. I've kinda forgotten about it and lost my drive. (which is what happens with all my books. I get through 1 to 3 chapters in and then it sits somewhere for the rest of its life.) I've been wanting to write a Mary story still and a couple years ago I started (there's that word again) a book called "Wherever Home May Be" about a family of kids on the Orphan Train I might try to redo and keep writing. But Running Deer is......well.......gone for the moment. :) Maybe in a few years.....XD How bout you? Have you been writing anything lately? Oh, and thanks! I'm usually REALLY bad at writing short stories because they end up either SO long (like 10 pages) and really good or short and boring and badly written. So, I was pretty proud of it. It's a fun topic to write about :)
(This was a really long comment.......I had the time...... for once!)

I wrote this a few months ago, try to guess what it is:
It doth come and go,
Where to, no one can know,
It shall ebb and grow,
Stretching from head to toe,
Darkness tis its greatest foe,
With the dark it mightn’t show

Um, no idea, like, at all. :)

Lol XD I put he answer on this older article just so if any other typewriter wants to guess they won’t accidentally read the answer on this page
https://teen.wng.org/node/7169#comment-90520

Lol XD I put he answer on this older article just so if any other typewriter wants to guess they won’t accidentally read the answer on this page
https://teen.wng.org/node/7169#comment-90520

Ah ha! Now I get it! Nice! Good job!

Very good! I like how historically correct it is. I've always planed on writing a Civil War story sometime. Your's sounds great so far! So much happens right at the beginning! Hurry and write more! I want to see what happens! :)

Wow, just wow!! I'm pretty well speechless! I love civil war stories (well, any historic story actually XD) and the beginning of that one just drew me in. I want more!!! Oh, and which side is Henry on? I think it would be fun to write a historical story, but I need to find the guts to do it, I'm worried about getting details wrong, although I had an idea for a revolutionary war story the other day so, maybe. Or it might just sit untouched in my notebook, I never know lol. But keep writing this one!!

That was such a good idea! Very relatable also, and I liked how the snacks disappeared. You also put in really great details too about her life. Josie is just like a real person.
I can't really think of anything you could do to make it better. Thanks for sharing!

Amelia: Ohhh! That was really good!
All: I'm leaving\packing for a trip tomorrow so I won't back on here till Sunday or Monday.

Ok cool have fun!
You are correct in your assumption. The rest of the family is mildly for the North and Henry is for the South. I have read one book about a family in a border state, but they were still very Southern. I wanted to put it in Virginia, because I wanted the state to be divided about entering. I am eventually going to have the family be in the part that becomes West Virginia, that was they are still Northern.

Aw, thanks! Hope you have a good time!
@ Riley: You're welcome! I love writing/reading Civil War stories too!

Cool! Would love to hear it! Yeah, I will try to put more up from my Civil War book, but I have to write more first, which means I have to find the time... and there seems to be a REALLY low supply of time at my house these days. :(

Is the first rule about commenting (Keep comments on topic...) new? I just now noticed it. I wonder to what all that means. They were fine with 'voice of a storyteller' for so long....(I don't know why I wrote this....)

does anyone have any fundraising ideas ? Our Youth group is trying to find ideas.

Hey guys!! I am writing a new "just for fun book". Here's the first chapter for you to check out. I appreciate your critiques.

Untitled Book
Chapter one: A Letter

Dear Blanche and Alice,
I would like to tell you that the usual family trip to the African Savana is rather boring and uneventful this year. You aren’t missing much.
Uncle Harvey only ran over one cobra on the open trail. He still sucks at driving, he almost killed Grandma once by running of the road where she was in the tall grass petting tarantulas and feeding them rainbow cupcakes. As punishment, Harvey had to sleep in a tent where Grandma had hung dead mambas all along the ceiling to scare him out of his wits at night. (She is him mom after all.)
Auntie Isabella only killed about thirty-six snakes in her annual Mamba Massacre. Grandma invited herself along, and got seventy-nine and a half. The African Society of the Prevention of Mamba Massacres was not thrilled, as usual. They chased Isabella and Grandma through three countries. The girls enjoyed the drive, and Grandma even began throwing the carcasses of deceased mambas at the perusing state officials and officers. It happens every year, except last year it was tarantulas.
Grandpa is still scared of virtually everything. He stays inside a tent all day and cries because he’s afraid of tents. When we take him outside to see the beautiful Savana with all the big ‘ol zebras, he complains that he’s scared of all the big ‘ol zebras. When we send Grandma inside to tell him what an aged cry-baby he is, he cries because he’s afraid of his wife.
Uncle Duff and Aunt Piper still haven’t struck gold. You know how those two go about it every year, wasting the whole vacation digging up the Savana and waving metal detectors around. They’re sure this is the year they’ll strike gold.
I’ll be home in two weeks so I’ll see you then. Alice, is there anything I can get you for your birthday? Ask anything. I am terribly sorry I couldn’t be there.
Blanche, thank you again for taking care of Alice. I appreciate it.
Sincerely,
Dad.

When Alice woke up on her ninth birthday, she did what she always did in the morning. She sat up in her grand canopy bed with the long tapestries drawn all around it. She pushed the tapestries aside and stared out into her room for a moment.
The bedroom was not like a regular children’s room at all. It was a large empty-looking room the size of a regular living room. The walls were painted light grey. Tapestries were everywhere. There were tapestries covering each side of the wall, and one particularly long one was covering the floor.
A small closet was full of the costumes Daddy sent her from all the countries he visited.
Daddy was always traveling the world with his family. Grandma, Grandpa, Auntie Isabella, Uncle Duff, and Auntie Piper were his traveling companions.
Grandma had lived through the prime of her life as a snake wrangler. At sixty, she became a member of the National Guard. When Grandma retired, she was rich. No one knew where she had gotten all that money. Grandma used her retirement funds to take the family traveling all over the world. They always went somewhere different, except for their yearly trip to the Savana.
Daddy was always too busy enjoying himself to see Alice. When he was home, he brought home all the family with him. That was always chaos. The manor could hardly contain all of them at once, despite it’s size. That was because the family was so loud and adventurous that such a plain house couldn’t handle it all.
Alice was always bored and cross. She never had anything to play with in this big mansion with no one around to talk to besides Auntie Blanche. She was the only one in the family who was normal and despised adventure.
Alice didn’t both to brush her stick-straight black hair. She changed into a pale pink dress with a high collar. She crept out of her room into the long corridor. Every room and hallway in the mansion appeared the same. Only the bizarre paintings of animals and people were different on every turn. Sometimes she would peer into a room and look for something new to play with. But it was usually just more tapestries and pieces of antique furniture.
Alice started down the long corridor and down a flight of stairs. Down another identical corridor, and down another flight of stairs. She walked sourly into the “living room”. It wasn’t actually a living room, only one of the many sitting rooms. The actual living room was too grand and too large for anyone to use regularly.
On a pale yellow sofa sat Aunt Blanche, knitting a scarf that would probably fit a giraffe.
It was pink. Alice hated pink, even though her dress was pink. She also hated blue, green, yellow, purple, orange, and every other color on earth.
Smooth classical music was playing too. Alice hated music. All kinds.
Auntie Blanche looked up from her knitting and said something surprising. “Your Daddy sent you a letter.” She motioned primly toward a small table on her right.
Alice smiled a little after reading the letter. She knew her father wasn’t really sorry he wasn’t there for her birthday, but he had offered to buy her a present! And Alice knew exactly what she wanted.
“Daddy is going to buy me a birthday present,” Alice said to her aunt.
“Mmm...” Aunt Blanche murmered.
To Alice’s surprise, she added, “What are you doing for your birthday?”
Alice frowned her usual frown. “I don’t know. I have nothing to play with.”
“You may bake yourself a cake if you wish,” Aunt Blanche never took her eyes off the TV screen.
“But I don’t know how to cook.”
“Read the directions in the cookbook.”
Alice glared at her aunt’s serious, pointed face with the large sharpish-looking spectacles. Yes, Aunt Blanche still wore spectacles even though they were old fashioned.
Although she had never tasted cake, Alice decided that she hated cake. All kinds.
There was nothing to do inside, so she navigated her way through the halls and corridors until she reached the grand back door. Pushing it open with all her strength, Alice struggled to hold the door open as she walked out into the gardens. The door fell back when she let go of it, resulting in the loudest most-pleasing slam a child could wish to hear.
Satisfied with the tremendous ruckus she had caused, Alice almost-happily strolled along. Almost.
There was a mini fountain directly in front of her. Splashed by the spouts of water were three shiny dolphin statues, their noses pointed up to the sky. Two separate paths weaved their way around the fountain.
All along the left side, lavender bushes and lilacs drooped onto the path. The right side was complete with pink and white lilies. Alice, who had walked this way millions of times, was always quite bored with the garden. She knew that the two paths joined together behind the fountain.
Alice followed the left path until it met with the right one. She hated paths. And roads, and fences, and houses etc.
Alice walked past the same old yellow, pink, and white roses, ignoring the chubby naked cupid inside a second smaller fountain. He was pointing his silly arrow at her. She glowered at him and stamped her foot.
The back of the garden was grassy and had nothing growing but tall, bright, hideous sunflowers. There was nothing hideous about them, but to Alice they were hideous. Too long, too yellow, too cheerful.
Bored and hot from the sun, she plopped down under the one tree that grew in the garden.
It was a handsome oak with fair leaves and plenty of shade. It was hatable just the same. She was in a hating sort of mood, and as it was her birthday, Alice decided that she would feel this way for the rest of the year.
CRACK!
Alice hurriedly glanced up to find that the think branch directly above her head was breaking off! On it stood a young boy who was around Alice’s age. He looked more excited than frightened. “I’ve got it now!”
Alice screamed, just as the boy made a flying leap off the cracking branch into the sunflower garden.
The branch stopped shaking. It hung limply because it was still connected to the tree.
The stranger laughed heartily. “Now it’ll be easy!” He took out a very sharp pocket knife and cut off the branch with it. The branch fell with a thump, then rolled down until it ran into a sunflower patch. The sunflower which had been struck toppled over into the dirt.
“Oops.” The boy apologized after a pause.. “I’m very sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Alice said, forgetting about her boredom. “I hate sunflowers.”
“I love them!” Shrieked the mysterious kid. He was very excitable. He took out the pocket knife again and cut the stem away from the roots. He held it up to the sky like a wizard’s staff. “How lucky it was that the branch rolled into the patch! Now we can play with it.”
Promptly, the stranger picked up the fallen branch and rolled it into a second flower. This one was stronger than the other one, so it took a few tries to get it to fall down.
“Here you go.” He presented it to Alice grandly.
“Thank you,” she grinned. Then, she frowned, becoming the old Alice again. “Who are you? And why did that branch start cracking off?”
“My name is Kumar. I live in the house behind you. It’s much smaller than yours.”
“I should think so!” Scoffed Alice. “People who live on the block behind this house are just common folk. They live in plain houses. But my block is for rich folk.”
“Wow,” Kumar remarked. “I just moved in behind you recently. On my side of the fence, there’s a wonderful oak tree that’s perfect to climb. Today, I climbed up higher than ever before. When I got to the top, I noticed a strong branch leading out over the fence onto your side of the yard. Then, I realized that the branch wasn’t from my oak tree... it was from yours! If I climbed up that branch, I could go from my oak to yours. Our trees are connected!”
“Really?” Gasped Alice. His enthusiasm was engaging her.
“Yeah! But there was one problem.” Kumar face twisted up into a dark, dramatic expression. “That naughty branch was in my way, and it blocked my view your pretty garden. So I chopped it with my pocket knife!”
Kumar brandished his pocket knife and made a few quick slashes in the air with it. Alice found this amusing.
Kumar abruptly stopped, dropped the knife, and put on a frightened expression. “But then, oh no! I hadn’t realized that I was standing on the branch that was being cut!”
This was too much for Alice. It was such a silly mistake that he had made! She rolled over and over on the grass, not at all caring about ruining her dress.
When Kumar had finished his story, he said, “And who are you? I forgot to ask.”
“I’m Alice. Alice McChevron.”
“How old are you? I’m nine.”
“I turned nine today,” Alice answered.
Kumar brightened. “Are you having a birthday party?”
Alice frowned. “No. I never do. My Daddy usually sends me another silly costume from another silly country as a present. Auntie Blanche always tells me to make myself a birthday cake but I don’t know how.”
“Did you say costumes?” Kumar said in awe. “What kind?”
And so, the two children skipped back to the manor hand in hand to look at costumes. They brought the sunflower sticks along with them.
Kumar must have interjected “Wow!” half a billion times. He thought everything was interesting. The duo stopped frequently to look at the pictures in the hall or to peek into a room to admire a tapestry.
Suddenly, the intricate designs carefully woven together no longer seemed boring and commonplace to Alice. They were full of adventure and excitement. Some depicted battles with wounded men and weapons. Others showed peacocks, elephants, and leopards hunting savanna animals. Alice found it much more enjoyable to explore the endless rooms with another child.
When Kumar and Alice reached Alice’s room, they both grew silent.
“WOW! WOW! WOW!” Kumar shouted in delight.
Alice giggled.
“This is the coolest bedroom I ever saw,” Kumar went on.
Alice brought out her costumes to show him. A blue kimono with flowers on it from Japan. An intricate gold sari from India. A green plaid kilt from Scotland.
Kumar put the kilt on over his jeans. He took his sunflower and showed it off. “I’m the sottish sunflower warrior!”
When the two grew tired of the costumes, they sat down on the canopy.
“You have the coolest house ever,” Kumar said. “You must be happy here.”
“Not really,” Alice replied, turning back into her old cross self. “I have nothing to play with but the costumes, and until now I had no friends to play with. I want people to love me besides Auntie Blanche..”
“I’ll love you if you like,” Kumar offered sweetly.
“That would be nice,” Alice said. Then an idea struck her. “Kumar, do you want to cook a birthday cake?”
His eyes lit up. “What flavor?”
“I don’t know,” Alice confessed. “I’ve never eaten a cake before. Is it spicy?”
“No!” Kumar said incredulously. “Cake is sweet. It’s soft, warm, light, and buttery. To make it taste yummy, you’re supposed to make frosting.”
“Like the iced scones you eat for tea?” Asked Alice curiously. She had never tasted cake frosting either.
“No!” Kumar said again. “It’s fluffy. Let’s go make a cake.”
The two excited children walked to the second kitchen. It took ten minutes to get there. The real kitchen was far too grand, majestic, and huge to use every day. Full of stainless cooking equipment and empty pantries, it was never really used. The second was the size of a normal kitchen.
Giggling, they pulled the big cookbook off the spice shelf and flipped through it until they found a recipe for white cake. The kitchen was a disaster once the lumpy cake was in the oven. It was lumpy because Kumar had dropped raspberries and an entire chocolate bar into the batter for fun. Not knowing where to find a cake pan, Kumar and Alice had pulled out a huge soup pot. They filled up the pot with batter saying, “It’s cake soup!”
While the cake soup was baking, the duo talked.
Well, Kumar talked mostly. He told Alice about his two little brothers. About their beautiful kind mother. About his father who worked in construction and came home every night to play games with Kumar. About homeschool. His mother taught him, not some frightful tutor. About Kumar’s Border Collie who was named Ranger.
When the cake was done baking, Alice wanted to frost immediately. She placed all the ingredients in a bowl. Kumar did his best to combine them with a whisk. Neither child wanted the cake to be boring and ordinary, so they added a whole tube of green food coloring. They dumped all of it in the soup pot and spread it around like peanut butter on bread. Since the cake was still piping hot, the frosting all melted and soaked into the cake.
But no one cared. Alice and Kumar dug in with spoons, still chattering away about Kumar’s family.
“What’s this gooey stuff?” Alice asked. Her spoon had dug up a clump of brown goo.
“My chocolate bar!” Kumar exclaimed. “You’ve found it.”
“Didn’t you cut it up into pieces before putting it in?” Alice asked.
Kumar’s eyes rolled to the side as he chewed. “Um.....no? I just put it in whole.”
The two laughed and fell over on the floor rolling.
After eating the entire cake between the two of them, Alice exclaimed.
“What?” Asked Kumar.
“I almost forgot. Daddy said he would buy me a birthday present. Anything I want! What should I ask for?”
Kumar thought for a minute. “How about a fish? Fish are fun.”
“Don’t they die rather quickly?” Alice asked.
“That’s true,” Kumar agreed.
“I know what I want!” Alice decided. “A dog. A fluffy, tiny, white one with curly fur. You’ve been talking about your dog and I’m jealous.”
“Good idea,” Kumar said. His eyes drifted around the messy kitchen. “No! I have a better idea.”
The two sneaked into the sitting room. Aunt Blanche was still knitting the giraffe-worthy scarf. Kumar made a face. They sneaked Daddy’s letter off of the table and tip-toed to the office for some paper to write a letter back.
In the late afternoon, Kumar started home through the garden. 
“Alice?” He looked back one more time.
“Yes?”
“Let’s be friends! Best friends!”
“Yes, let’s!”
That night, Alice climbed into bed with a smile. The present would arrive soon!
And what a present it would be!

Hey guys! I've been disappearing a lot, I don't really know why, but I'll try to keep up! @Bethy, yes it's a series, and the author is Veronica Roth! So good!

@Bella: Yeah that is fairly new. they put that up a month or so ago when some people were putting up comments that had nothing to do with the article, but more with Ferraris and riddle stuff, and then just other comments in general. And I also think we are still 'on topic' because the article is about writing and books and such, and that is what we are talking about.
@Wyn: That is a cool poem! And it is ok! Books don't have to come along quickly! Mine take forever. I go in and out of phases where I really want to write and where I really don't or i run out of ideas. I just wait for more inspiration and then start again. Sometimes it is months before I keep on writing.
@Mylee: Let me think on that. :)
@Scarlett: I don't have time to read that right now, but I will try to at some point!

Thank you so much for your help!! Amelia, thanks!! I just finished reading The Secret Garden, maybe I was inspired. Do you think it sounds too much like Mary? I don't want people to think I copied.

Hey, awesome story! Alice does remind me of Mary, but not so much that I think you should change it. "Alice didn't both to brush her....hair" both instead of bother, that's all I saw. Great job! (P.S. Was it your first time reading Secret Garden? If so, what did you think?)