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Showing posts from February, 2017

A Poem For You

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Beautiful People| James & Emma

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Helloo, Imaginers! Today is as good a time as ever for a Beautiful People post, so I shall write one and my words are off because tired and I don't know and bleh that was a bad sentence.

Okay!

Beautiful People is a linkup hosted by the fabulous bloggers Cait and Sky, linked to in the pictures. (visit their blogs! you will like it!) I have a notorious history of participating exceeding infrequently and using a different writing project each time, which I will continue. :)
James and Emma are two peoples in a magic realism story story with spirits and fairy tales set in modern-day London. There are bookshops and insane little girls and retellings of Rapunzel, Rumpelstiltskin, Beauty and the Beast, and a teensy bit of Cinderella. So... yeah.
Emma is the quiet much-haired owner of Shelby Lane Bookshop, which is not on a Shelby Lane. Think Persephone of the Raven Cycle but less ethereal and more bookish. 
James is the imaginary son of Princess Di, born a year before she died. (You can t…

Nostalgia and Ridiculous 9-Year-Old Behavior

Hey guys! I apologize I haven't been posting much. I'm working on it, though!

I was looking through an old blog by family used to have, which had all of 12 posts. One of them I wrote (long ago, when I was only 9 3/4 or something of the type) was an old-timey letter my mother "insisted" I post. Here it is, for nostalgia's sake. (Remember, it's a 9 year old messing around, so don't judge. :))

Dear Friends, family, neighbors, and all ye old gossips,    We are very sad to find ourselves able to truthfully tell you that our lovely (Though she has a large wart on one of her abnormally large feet and a rather embarrassingly noticeable mole on her neck) daughter Lucinda Jane-Marie Thompson Greene has decided to be one with a disgustingly handsome country tramp by the name of Harris Hartford, with only a quarter of a million dollars to speak of, and no parents, as both died from the plague. It is a pity, as they could have knocked some sense into his head, though we…