A Writer 's Tale - Original Writing

The forest had gone.... and the Witch looked much younger. Audette opened her eyes and had found herself upon a brow of white lilies. The shape of the shrouded old woman seemed changed. Having turned around, and opened her mantle to the tearing gusts, Meliza revealed to the young lady two streams of shinging blackness and smooth white flesh. Audette stopped in her tracks.

At this point in my life I find myself in an interesting predicament regarding my attitudes toward reading and writing; more so towards reading. Years ago I used to love reading books for pleasure but nowadays I find myself reading things that little to no effort to digest. This includes the very basic posts on facebook expressing one’s opinion on something or articles and threads on reddit discussing topics I find intriguing. Perhaps it’s the severe senioritis that has overcome me as I enter my last semester at Chapman University. As I’ve gotten lazier I can see it start to reflect in my everyday life. Deep down I still love to read but I rarely find myself getting truly invested into the action unless it relates to something I am very

Weeks later, as Snowman stares into the familiar bright green eyes, he thinks back to what led him here, forgetting the fact that in a few moments, his whole world will be turned upside down.

A fortnight passed, and Percy and his siblings spent extra time with Will. After coming close to losing him, they all got along better than ever.

It was unclear what exactly woke up the small elf, maybe the unfamiliar sounds of horse hooves against the ground, maybe the bright sunlight shining through the sparse forest, maybe the motions of the carriage from the uneven terrain, or some divine forsaken mixture of the three. When she attempted raising her arms to shield her eyes from the harsh light, she discovered that they had been bound together, and rather tightly at that. 'Great,' she thought to herself.

During our recent winter break, I started reading as many novels, novellas, and biographies that piqued my interest. Once I sat down, curled up on the couch, I would start a story and wouldn’t stop reading until I was done, whether the book was 80 pages or 573 pages. Even if the book was horrible, I would still finish what I started. Although I’m concentrating on college and succeeding, I’m falling in love with reading again. Just during our winter break, I read over fifty novels, biographies, and novellas ranging from science fiction, paranormal romance, history, and classical horror

I knew I was going to be a writer. I love to write. I began

I was always a visual learner so I always preferred seeing something before I did something. Books were like movies to me, but better. As I read what I write it reminds me of the actual time when I started to read books, it wasn’t by my 7th grade librarian but by simply wanting to go to Main Event.

Learning to read and write as a child was a big deal in Katelyn Howard’s life. Reading Junie B. Jones, learning her address and tracing letters in her kindergarten class was monumental. Her parents were constantly working with her and pushing her to strive for excellence. She is also continuing to grow as a writer and reader through being enrolled in college. Katelyn is the writer and reader she is today because of the teachers she had, her parents, and the competition she has with herself.

Tom’s frightened faced filled the twenty-six-inch screen, his panicked gaze frantically flitting from left to right. Suddenly, his eyes bulged, a look of shock replacing his fearful expression. “DENNIS, DON’T!” he screamed.

"Helga, Rhonda. My, My, what a pleasant suprise!" Ms. Heyerdahl answered the door, her accent thick. "Phoebe, didn't mention you gals was coming today."

whatever. He needed to be a big boy about it. And as far as going back—absolutely impossible. “It won’t happen, Sherry. He wants both of us dead.”

Brrring! Brrring! Brrring! Brrring! “What is someone doing calling at 2am” whispers Dave groggily as he wipes his eyes and picks up the phone. Yawning, somehow he manages to make something comprehendible come out of his mouth, “Hello? This is Dave speaking.”

It was during the fall when it happen . I got a phone call from my father saying that migration got him.I started crying.I ciuld not believe what happen.when i told my mom she started crying. Then i called my aunt santa and told her. My aunt came over. i could not believe what happened. I could not stop crash. he was in jail and i could not believe it , we have to do things during the month’s .My dad would call us often and we had to pay. i was happy when i hear his voice. I cried everytime , My mom and i were to a line , We have our family to rely on. We have to have to have a lawyer. She was a nice lady. She helped us very well. my uncle introduce us her. He did a good thing. My father was finlay hot a court daquan di ws jppy. we have to pay for his pail/ The judge needed to pci k to deport him or we have to pay paul for him.The lawyer said that the judge said she was a hard judge and i was worried about my father. We have to wait until they call my father 's name. We went there with my cousins , my uncle and my dad friend.

“Why did I do it? I could have avoided this whole situation!” Sushi cried. As she strugglingly swam away from the shark, however, I am getting ahead of myself, aren’t I. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?