Friday, May 29, 2015

The World of Five Nights At Freddy's - Story Psychology

Hey everyone! Welcome to a new blog topic - Story Psychology. Stories are a huge part of our lives and they come in all shapes and sizes - movies, TV shows, books, role playing, video games, comics, and even day to day conversations. But there's a psychology to stories. We're attracted to them because of the way they make us feel.

Five Nights At Freddy's
But sometimes, the way they make us feel isn't the EXPECTED way. Genre should dictate our feelings - horror should make us feel scared, humor should make us feel happy, and romance should make us feel loving.

Good stories, however, don't let genre define them, and when fans are in love with a story, their love for the story may change their feelings for it.

For example, let's look at Five Nights at Freddy's.

For anyone who doesn't know Five Nights at Freddy's (all of you that have been hiding under a ROCK since August of 2014) Five Nights is an indie horror game created by Scott Cawthon. The game takes place at a Chuck E. Cheese style pizzeria. You play a night guard, and your goal is to watch a set of security cameras and keep an eye on the animatronic characters.

Oh yeah, and don't die.

The animatronics apparently have a flaw in their systems where they mistake you, the night guard, for an animatronic endoskeleton without its costume on. So if they catch you, they'll try to stuff you inside one of the animatronic suits... which is full of crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices. As the Phone Guy says, the only parts of you that'll see the light of day again will be your eyes and teeth.


If you want to get a feel for how the game plays, watch Markiplier's play through of the first game. It's definitely got a jump scare value.

The games themselves are huge, and its got a massive following. Scott blasted through development for the games and came out with three games in about nine months or so. It's so huge that Warner Bros. recently picked up movie rights for it.

The world of Five Nights is huge too. Since the story behind the games (and yes, there is a story) is so vague, the games have spawned hundreds of theories.

The Game Theorists have come up with some of the most compelling theories surrounding the games.

The basic story involves a horrible series of murders by a mysterious "purple guy." According to newspaper clippings found in the game, a man used an empty character suit and lured five children into a backroom, murdered them, and stuffed them into the animatronic suits. Canonically, the five spirits of the dead children possessed the character suits and are out for revenge.

And this, dear readers, is where everything stems from. This is where the genre stopped defining our relationship to the characters.

This, as I previously mentioned, is a horror story. But fans of the story are in love with the characters.


Because of the murders.

Image by Mittenpatty
Few things are more tragic than the death of a child, especially when it's a murder at a place that should be happy. We relate to the sadness. We feel connected to those dead children.

More importantly, we recognize that those spirits are not trying to be malicious. After all, they're just children.

So, even though the robots are trying to kill us, when things go bad for them, we sympathize.

Image via
(Please do not use without the artist's express permission)
YouTuber Markiplier famously played all three Five Nights at Freddy's games and decimated all of them. But in game three, when Markiplier sees the characters being torn up by the Purple Guy, he feels real remorse. We're ATTACHED to them.

Image via
I highly doubt Scott Cawthon set out to create beloved characters in these creatures. He intended for us to fear them in only the worst way. He wanted us to run, screaming from their sights. He wanted us to hate them and ENJOY it when they got torn up or when the restaurants were shut down.

Image via
But instead we feel REMORSE for these characters. We LOVE them. We CRY when they're injured.

And it's all because of those dead children.

It's funny how emotion works.

What we want, more than anything as a player, is not to live through the night at this stupid, scary job. What we want is for these children to be able to escape their nightmares. We want them to be free. We want their trapped souls to finally find rest.

And Scott Cawthon gives us that ending.

In the third installment of Five Nights at Freddy's, after a series of complex minigames involving bring cake to the crying souls of the murdered children, all six children have had their souls calmed. They leave behind the masks of the suits that housed them. They no longer seek revenge. Instead, they float away on colored balloons, hopefully on some peaceful journey where they can rest.

They're free. And the player, knowing they did some good, can rest easy as well.

So it's not fear that drives our love of these games. Not really. It's something so much deeper than that. It's love. It's sympathy. It's a desire to HELP not DESTROY the souls of the creatures that are trying to murder us for just doing our jobs.

This is what makes Five Nights at Freddy's such a compelling game and such a powerful story.

What do you think of Five Nights at Freddy's? Do you agree with my analysis? Do you know any other stories that defy their genre and create different emotions in our minds? Let me know in the comments below!

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

California Rain - Meenanful Life

It rained in California recently. OMG.  This is a very good thing, since we are currently in a horrible drought.

Californians have a love/hate relationship with rain. On the one hand, it's rare to even get rain, many of us long for it. On the other hand, we live in California for a REASON and that reason is the many guaranteed bright sunny days throughout the year.

Last year's big rainstorm

Since we live our daily lives based on that reason, we generally don't know how to handle rain very well.

The first thing that always happens in the rain is everyone suddenly forgets how to drive.

A rainstorm in So Cal is usually followed by sirens. Lots and lots of sirens. Your commute to work will suddenly take three times as long because all the freeways are littered with accidents. Drivers either drive too fast, or too slow, they swerve in an out of lanes, and they have no idea how to deal with hydroplaning.

To be fair to drivers though, part of this is because of good ol' Caltrans. Our bridges can withstand earthquakes that would level cities anywhere else in the country, but when it rains, you're better off taking a boat to work, there's so many puddles.

Parks and storm drains aren't safe either. Here's what our last storm did to the BRAND NEW PARK down the street from my house.

Storm Drain damage
Sidewalk damage
 It's not just drivers either. It's the average person.

If you're from So Cal, you fall into one of two categories when it rains - The Uber Prepared or The Under Prepared.

The Uber Prepared is the person who has rainboots and umbrellas hanging out by the front door 365 days a year. They also have six different rain coats and keep spare umbrellas in their cars. They also keep secret stashes of hot cocoa and tomato soup in their closet. If there is even a WHIFF of rain on the horizon, they are immediately decked out and they proudly show off their undoubtedly colorful novelty umbrella once the water does start to fall.

Sometimes The Uber Prepared can be the kindest person ever. They have an umbrella that can house eight people and will invite any poor, sopping wet soul that can fit to share with them. But sometimes, they're cruel. They have one tiny umbrella that they refuse to share with anyone, lest they get a shoulder wet. However, they will always say something to the tone of "How 'bout this rain?" just so the sopping wet person next to them realizes what a wonderful person they are for being prepared. 

Oh, one side note too. Rain in California never falls straight down. There's always some kind of HECTIC WIND that comes with it, meaning you need to turn your umbrella sideways in order to actually STOP IT.

Which means you usually look like this.

And even The Uber Prepared person may find that their year old, unused umbrella has suddenly developed a catastrophic flaw that makes it completely useless. During this last rainstorm, my umbrella decided it didn't want to stay open, so I had to hold it open... while carrying a computer bag, purse, and lunchbox. FUN. 

The Under Prepared Californian is the kind of person who lives life thinking it'll never rain. These are the guys that you see walking around in shorts or short skirts, flip flops, and tank tops, even when it's pouring buckets over their heads. They looked at the forecast, saw it said 80% chance of rain and said decided that 20% chance of NOT rain was a good enough excuse to show off their new beachwear. They may own an umbrella, but it's probably six years old and its never been used because its owner forgets it every single time it rains, forcing them to buy a new one while they're out and about.

This is why grocery stores and pharmacies make a killing on rainy days. Fifteen bucks for an umbrella that would normally cost five.

More often than not, Californians fall under the Under Prepared category.

I tend to fall in the Uber Prepared category.

I love rain. I'm one of those people who like to curl up with a good book and a hot cup of cocoa when it rains. I don't have rainboots, but I do have three rain jackets. I like to share my umbrella with people who need it.

But I think I like rain because I don't get it very often. Sometimes when something is uncommon, we appreciate it more. Those amazing moments of perfect love you feel for your significant other. That nostalgic cake flavor you always get for your birthday. A day with the friend you rarely get to see. We treasure those moments.

So despite the problems of California rain, I will always love it, because I never know when it's going to come back.

What special uncommon moments do you like? Are you an Uber Prepared or an Under Prepared? What's your favorite rain memory? Share in the comments below!

Friday, May 22, 2015

Ten Minute Freewrites - Prompt #4 Last Meeting Place

Hey everyone! Welcome to another edition of Ten Minute Freewrites. Today I'm going bonkers and doing a freewrite using a yet-to-be-revealed character from the Zyearth world. This one won't show up for many novels to come.

It's gonna be a blast. =D

Today's freewrite comes from, yet again, and all her awesome prompts. Enjoy.

Ronan stood outside the burning forest.

This was it. The last place he said he'd meet his dad if something bad happened. Too bad something bad had already happened to Dad. He died last year. But Ronan's brother would be there. He knew the meeting place. He'd have Mom with him. They'd know what to do.

If only the soot would stop sticking to his white quills and fur. If only he could breathe properly.

Ronan entered the woods.

Inside, the burning slowed down and there were plenty of places for him to move around. The floor was black with ash which stuck to his short legs, but he didn't care. Mom always said a little dirt never hurt anyone.

He held a small Gem in his hand. It had been completely clear just three days ago, but now it was white and green, like Ronan's fur and eyes. His mother had been shocked. After all, Ronan was only four. Bindings weren't supposed to happen for another sixteen years. Also, Ronan wasn't supposed to get the Gem. Angus was.

Ronan furrowed his brow and wrinkled his snout. Well, he didn't deserve it anyway. He didn't even care when Dad died, and he didn't care about Dad's Gem. Ronan did. He deserved it.

Besides, the lady in the Gem would never have talked to Angus.

Ronan frowned. But the lady in the Gem took Ronan's mother. She DID something to her, but Ronan didn't know what. All he knew was that mom suddenly looked funny and then creatures fell from the sky. They hurt a bunch of people, but Mom didn't seem to care, so Ronan didn't either. He just stuck close to her while it happened.

Then the bad people came. Someone in white with a golden pendant. Someone who wanted to hurt Mom. Ronan got lost after that.

But Mom would be there. With Angus. He knew that much to be true.


Well, that one didn't go very far. But it was fun to write. Stay tuned for more about Ronan and Angus.

Give me prompt suggestions! Pick anything. =D I will happily link a website, Facebook page, or blog to anyone willing to give me a prompt idea.


Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Learning To Deal With Change... In Formula One - Meenanful Life

Let's start with Formula One.

For those who have never heard of this strange, mystical thing called Formula One, let me clear some stuff up. Formula One is the pinnacle of motorsport racing. It's the largest series, the most expensive series, the most international series, and one of the most watched spectator sports on the planet, coming in just below soccer and NASCAR.

It's open wheel racing, and these cars are horrendously difficult to use. They're also extremely fragile. A team will go through anywhere from six to ten engines, gear boxes, wings, and other components throughout a season... and two to five sets of tires a RACE.

Imagine doing that to YOUR car. Can you imagine an entire engine replacement every few weeks? Can you fathom the sheer amount of money and time you'd loose if you had to replace your tires three times every time you commuted to work?

And then there's the money.

Richard Hammond can explain that even better than me. He drives for a living, but when he drove a Formula car, it was completely beyond his experience.

And I'm in love with the sport. 

I don't like most sports. I do occasionally visit the Angels and pray to the gods of baseball that they might actually hit something, but other than that my sport of F1.

My husband got me into the sport. I still remember the first race I ever watched, way back in 2010. Lewis Hamilton, my husband's favorite driver, was waaaay ahead of the rest of the pack. So far ahead, that there was almost a MINUTE between him and the racer in second place. In Formula One, where most race laps are less than two minutes, that's HUGE.

My husband and I have been watching ever since. My mother in law is always telling me how wonderful she thinks it is that we can have such a fun common interest. =)

Everyone has their team, and I'm a Red Bull fan girl.

Fancy (and expensive) Official Team Wear
I fell in love with the team back when Sebastian Vettel, my fav driver, won his first World Championship. The first of FOUR back to back championships.

Everything was happy in my world. Until this year.

This year, everything changed.

This year, Sebastian, frustrated with his continued losses at Red Bull for the past two years, jumped ship and ran for the biggest name in the business - Ferrari.

I hate Ferrari. Sure, their street cars are nice, but the F1 team is BRUTAL. They play favorites between their drivers and heartlessly fire anyone that doesn't meet up to their expectations. All teams have two drivers, but Ferrari sees their second driver as a way to protect their first driver, even if that means telling them to slow down and let the first driver go past. They are known for being rude, cruel, and endlessly frustrating.

Oh, if only Seb had gone to any other team. WHY FERARRI? Ugh.

To make matters worse, all my other favorite drivers are being shuffled around. Red Bull is talking about leaving the racing series. Mercedes, a team that has been in the rest of the teams' shadows for years, is suddenly winning EVERY SINGLE RACE.

UGH. Everything is CHANGING. And I hate change. 

But I can't stop it. I can't make the drivers stay in their normal spots. I can't stop teams from dropping slow drivers and keeping dangerous ones because of good sponsors.

But, that's why we have the Serenity Prayer.

My father made this. It took him years to perfect his skill in inked calligraphy. It took hours of tedious work to get the words just right on this paper. It took time and patience to burn the edges of the paper just right and to get the glue just perfect on the wood. Dad lived patience for this piece.

Whenever I think of change going on in my life that I'm not happy about, I think of this prayer. Specifically, I think of Dad's work on this piece.

I remember that dealing with change can be an exercise in patience.

Yes, Formula One change is not a huge change. It doesn't affect my day to day life. It doesn't change anything socially, psychologically, or financially about my life or my family. The only thing it REALLY does is give my husband an excuse to make fun of my choice in drivers.

This is one of those "Accept the things I cannot change" things.

But I can change my attitude about it. I can realize how much Formula One means to me. I can see that the sport is a great way for my husband and I to connect. I can use our common interest to get closer to him and reach a part of him that would otherwise be impossible to reach. I can benefit from enjoying my sport even when it's changing in ways I'm not happy about.

And if I can change my attitude about Formula One, I can change my attitude about anything.

I can choose to be less frustrated and more concerned for my students.

I can choose to spend less time whining and more time writing for my books and short stories.

I can choose not to let things I can't change bother me.

So yes, I can't change Formula One. But I can change a lot in my life and make things work out for the best.

What do you guys think about change? Have you ever had to make a big change in your life? Do you have any sports that you really enjoy that have changed dramatically in the past? How did you react to that change? Share in the comments below!

Friday, May 15, 2015

The Wendigo - Creature Research

I write animal fiction. Occasionally, I use mythological or legendary creatures that don't exist in the real world. Understanding these creatures requires research.

And so, today, I present you some of the results of my research.

Long time readers of my blog might remember me introducing the character Darvin Wendigo, an anthropomorphic stag and an important side character in The Stolen Defender.

Darvin, along with his brother Roscoe, get their last name from the legendary creature the Wendigo.

The Wendigo is a Native American, specifically Algonquian, legend about a half beast demon creature with an insatiable lust for human flesh. While the Wendigo has lots of different physical forms in legend, the most popular modern interpretation is a stag... and not a pretty stag at at that.

Image via
They're usually depicted with grotesquely long arms and legs, ribs showing, and blood everywhere. Their skulls and bones show through too, as Wendigos will often eat their own lips or fingertips trying to satiate their bloodlust. They are also soulless. And ironic twist in my stories, since I have soulless characters. XD

Basically, according to legend, anyone who eats human flesh, in other words, cannibals, becomes a Wendigo. Wendigos were evil spirits that possessed cannibals.

Most of the native American tribes that had Wendigo legends were in cold, wintery areas in Canada and North America, so some speculate that the legend was created to reinforce the taboo of cannibalism even in times when it was difficult to find food. These tribes taught that there is NO excuse for cannibalism, even to survive. Instead, if you're starving and can't stand it anymore, you should resign yourself to your fate or kill yourself.

Wendigos were supposed to embody death as well. To be a Wendigo is not a pretty thing.

Image via
If a Wendigo decides to victimize you, you literally cannot escape. Apparently, some legends say it can cross space and time to find its victims. So don't eat people. Srsly.

The Wendigo legend still exists in modern society and some people have reported on Reddit that they grew up with legends of the Wendigo. According to Reddit posters, you could hear a Wendigo's heartbeat far away, and they're super strong.

Image via
Wendigos have a lot of modern interpretations. There are several movies and TV shows depicting Wendigos in all forms. Grimm, Supernatural, The X-Files and Teen Wolf have all had episodes with Wendigos. A horror film from 2001 called "Wendigo" used Wendigos as the primary monster. Even My Little Pony used a form of Wendigos called "Windigos" that thrived on conflict and anger and created huge storms.

Marvel Comics even has a form of Wendigo in their X-Men mutant character by the same name.

But Wendigos have other modern interpretations as well. There is a psychological disorder known as "Wendigo Psychosis." Sufferers of this condition lust for human flesh even when other sources of food are available. Some people speculate that it's a form of "cabin fever" and paranoia that occurs when there is a small group of people in close quarters with one another for too long.

Wendigo Psychosis is not common anymore, but in some extreme cases, such as cannibalism as a survival method, it can still happen.

What does this have to do with the beloved Wendigo brothers of The Stolen Defender? Nothing really, other than the fact that I like the name and associate with stags, so I took it. XD Don't worry though. They don't become crazy soulless monsters thirsting for flesh. . .

Or do they?

What do you guys think of the Wendigo? What other creatures would you like me to research? Comment below!

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

The Troubles of Kitten Raising - Meenanful Life

I love kittens. I've had cats for as long as I can remember. My first cat was a striped female named Sarah. She was an outdoor cat, and she often got stuck on the roof of our two story apartment building. I remember bawling my eyes out a few times every month while a neighbor pulled out a long ladder and dragged my screaming cat off the roof.

Perhaps the most memorable cats though, have been the ones I've had to bottle feed.

My first bottle fed cat was Tiger (yeah, real original name, I know). We found her in the alleyway behind my grandmother's hairdresser's place covered head to toe in fleas. She was only a few weeks old too -- much too young to try and use flea poison on the fleas. We had to give her daily baths for those first few weeks we had her and drown the fleas.

She never did like being picked up after that.

Bottle feeding cats always poses a bit of a risk. You never know if a kitten is going to survive the transition from mama's milk to formula. Sometimes they can't even figure out how to use a bottle. It took Tiger nearly three days to figure it out and we were worried she'd die in that time. She managed it eventually though, and lived to be 13 before she finally died.

Well, recently two new little ones came into our lives. Meet Hunter (the orange kitten) and Leah (the gray and white kitten).

Hunter and Leah, along with three other siblings, were found near a Kohls in Bakersfield last August, sitting in a dirty box, crying for mommy. My cousin Brenda took them in and we took the two you see there.

We estimate they were probably two, maybe three weeks old before someone decided to box them up and drop them off in the outside world where no amount of hope could have helped them survive. I suspect some poor child's cat got herself pregnant and Mom and Dad just didn't have the patience to wait until the kittens were old enough so they could give them away to good homes.

This is why you should spay and neuter your cats.

Since Hunter and Leah were so young when they were found, they needed bottle feeding.

D'awww, what an adorable spectacle. If you listen closely, you can probably hear Leah in the background, protesting that Hunter got to eat first.

If you've never seen a kitten bottle feed, you need to watch that video. It's so adorable, your brain might ooze out your orifices from the cuteness.

Just make sure you have some paper towels handy.

Bottle feeding takes patience. Just like with a human baby, the kittens woke up several times in the middle of the night for WEEKS, demanding to be fed. I spent those weeks sleeping on the couch cushions in our spare bedroom, listening cautiously for any sign that a kitten was awake.

I also had to be careful not to make any noise while moving around at night. Because if they suspected I was awake, they knew that they could get me to feed them.

I'll be honest. I wasn't always a patient mama. Sometimes I'd try to ignore them while they demanded food, hoping that they'd just go back to sleep (it never worked.) Sometimes I got frustrated with them digging their tiny claws into my bare skin. Sometimes I'd ask myself WHY DID I TAKE THESE DUMB CATS IN THE FIRST PLACE??

But animals have a way of wiggling into our hearts. Yes, there were trying moments, but overall, it was good. They're sweet little things.

Or at least they were.

You know how humans go through that vicious teenage stage where they're not quite young enough to be considered cute kids anymore, but they're also not old enough to act like adults? Yeah, kittens go through that phase too.

That's what mine are doing right now.

Physically, they're big enough to look like cats.

Well, Hunter is anyway. Leah must have been a runt, because she's still tiny and she isn't growing. Oh well.

But if you compare them to my adult cats, they look fully grown.

Eeee, adopted brothers! <3 Only now I can't make the bed...
But they don't ACT like adult cats.

Ziggy and Annie, our two adult cats, are like most cats. They're mellow, they spend most of their day sleeping, and they occassionally seek out attention from us. Sometimes they get extra excited and they'll run all over the house, but for the most part, they're quiet.

The kittens... are not quiet.

I didn't knock over your plant I don't know what you're talking about
They like to wake me up at 4AM by sitting on my chest or in the window, meowing as loud as possible. They like to pull open the drawers in my dresser and claw the clean clothes out. They like to open the hall closet and make cat nests out of the clean towels.

And my plants still aren't safe.

But these guys have taught me one important thing - Patience. Getting angry and shouting at them won't fix the problem. In fact, it could make things worse if I'm not careful. I need to learn love, patience, and kindness.

So when Hunter gets in the window crying at the top of his lungs for no reason at 4AM, I gently pluck him from the window, squirt his little nose with the water bottle, and he leaves. He's gotten better, and now most nights I can actually sleep past 4AM. If he's good, he gets to sleep on my chest for a while.

When Leah pulls all the towels out of the cupboard, I pick her out of the towels, show her the water bottle, and put the towels away. She doesn't mess with them much anymore. Afterwards I usually snuggle with her.

And more than that, I'm learning to be patient with their age. Once they hit one year in August, they'll start to fall into their cat routines and be more mellow like their "older siblings."

But in the meantime, I can use this opportunity to prepare myself for when I have kids. Don't get angry. Just discipline properly and love.

Being patient is something I've often struggled with. I'm often impatient with my students. Sometimes I'll get a student that I KNOW can do better, but he or she is choosing not to and it's hurting their ability to do well in school.

But being impatient and getting angry about it doesn't fix it. Instead, I need to take the time to talk to the student and explain how I feel about the situation. I need to encourage them. And I need to be patient with them.

I get impatient with editing and writing too. It's paralyzing. Rather than actually WRITING, I'll be imagining all the supposed FAME and GLORY I'll get from writing and then get impatient waiting for it to happen.

How come I'm not famous NOOOOWWW?

Oh wait, it's because I haven't been writing. WRITE DARN IT.

But my kittens are teaching me patience. They're teaching me that I CAN be patient if I have the right motivation. So I'm working on recognizing my motivation in other areas where I'm impatient and using that motivation to force myself to be patient.

They say Patience is a Virtue, and I've always said "it's not one of mine." But maybe I need to start making an effort to make it one.

What about you? Are there any patience issues you guys face? Have you ever had someone or something force you to be more patient? Did you learn a lesson from it? Or, on a lesser note, got any cute pets to share with us? =) Share in the comments below!

Monday, May 11, 2015

Ten Minute Freewrites - Prompt #3 Secrets in Racing

Hello again everyone, and welcome to Monday! You know what that means - Another Ten Minute Freewrite!

Today's freewrite prompt comes from and her fun collection of random writing prompts. Here's the one I picked for today.

Timer set. . .

"I'm only telling you this because you won't be able to tell anyone else."

Haruhi stared up at Sebastian with a fear he had never seen in his life. When he learned three months ago about the true nature of the beast inside him, he never dreamed that others who learned the truth would fear him.

Especially not Haruhi. Anyone but Haruhi.

The Japanese mechanic backed up against the wall of the paddock garage, staring at him with wide black eyes. She breathed in ragged breaths.

"You. . . you are one of them," she shuttered. "One of those werebeasts."

Seb frowned and bent back the now familiar cheetah ear that emerged from his head when he transformed. "Yeah. I am."

Haruhi backed up further. "And what makes you think I can't tell anyone else?" Her fear melted into anger now, and she furrowed her brow at him.

Seb lowered his gaze. He felt the fur around his eyes shift in the night breeze. "Haruhi, you've been in the garage messing with the cars at night before every race since you got here. I'm the only one knows that, and I've been letting you do it. If I tell someone, you'll lose your job."

"Well, maybe it's worth it," Haruhi said. "I can't let you roam free in that form. You're a monster. You'll hurt someone! You'll hurt me!"

Seb's tail drooped and he frowned. "I would never hurt you."

"You can't promise that."

"I can," Seb said. He took a step closer to her. "Because I can control this form. He's not a threat to anyone except the track demons. He's not the enemy."

"He's a cheetah, Seb!" Haruhi took another step back. "He's a predator! He's designed to kill!"

Seb held out his hands and looked down at them. In this form, they were more like paws than hands, complete with yellow and black spotted fur and black pads on his palms. But he knew his wereform. He knew Gepard. And he knew he wouldn't hurt anyone.

Especially not Haruhi.

"Haruhi, please," Seb held out his hands. "Just give him a chance. I promise he won't hurt you. It was going to, wouldn't I have done so already?" Haruhi looked ready to run at that point. She stared at Seb's face and he gently smiled. "Please. Just try."

Haruhi bit her lip, but she moved from her position against the wall and walked toward him.


Man, these freewrites are fun. XD It's a great excuse to explore some of the other side projects I'm working on. This one is from Weredriver, a story I WAS going to try to do as a comic, but scrapped because I'm not a good enough artist.

My friend Kessie suggested I try doing it as a novel instead.

For those who can't tell, it's a story about racing drivers who are also werebeasts. Seb, my MC, is a cheetah.

I have an ancient picture of him somewhere... ah! Here it is.

And it's art like this that tells me I can't possibly make this into a comic. XD

I still fully intend to try and make this into a novel series, so we'll see how it plays out.

What'd you guys think of the story? Should I continue it?

And the big question is - WHAT SHOULD I WRITE ABOUT NEXT WEEK? Give me a prompt suggestion! I always acknowledge and link to those who's prompts I use. 

I always encourage people to do a freewrite based on the same prompt. Share you stories below! See you guys next time. =)

Friday, May 8, 2015

Take Me Out To The Ball Game - Meenanful Life

Everybody ready? And a-one, and a-two, and a-here we go!

Take me out to the BALL GAME! Take me out to the CROWD!

Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack! I don't care if I ever get back!

So let's root, root-root for the ANGELS

If they don't win its a shame! (But they did!)

Cuz it's ONE! TWO! THREE strikes you're out at the OLD BALL GAME!

Okay, now that that's over. XD

I'll be honest, I'm not a huge baseball fan. My sport is Formula One. But when I get an opportunity to go see the Angels play, I like to take advantage of it. Why? It makes me think of Dad.

I may have mentioned it before, but for those who don't know, my father died when I was twelve of a horrible heart attack. I loved my dad very much, and I think about him a lot.

And Dad was a huge Angels fan, even though they pretty much sucked in his day. He instilled that love of the game in me at a young age.

Look at me and my tininess!
So when the Angels do well, I think of Dad. And Mom.

GOSH Rachel, you're such a doofus, LOOK AT THE CAMERA
We went to a game on Cinco de Mayo, and, since the Angels are weird like that, we got to participate in a Guinness Book of World Records Attempt - The most sombreros in a single gathering. Everyone got a free sombrero and in the fifth inning, we had to wear them for a full five minutes.

The SEA of SOMBREROS was awesome to behold.

And we got the record.

It was pretty dang fun. And we won! The win would make a great story too. Our final batter of the night was a rookie celebrating his Major League debut. For a BRIEF, GLORIOUS MOMENT, he was actually BATTING 1000.

No, the rookie was not Cowgill. I'm just slow when taking pictures. Note that Perez has 1000 instead.
And in the crucial moments at the end of the game, he hit a HOME RUN at the top of the 9th, the first batter up, and we won.

Awesome. =D

And I'm sure Dad's watching from above, hanging out with some REAL Angels, excited that his team won... and his daughter still shows a love of the game. =)

Do you guys watch sports? Do you have any hobbies just because they're nostalgic or connected to a loved one? Share your experiences below!