Tuesday, December 31, 2013


Jane here on this lovely Tuesday morning.
So I've noticed all the other blogs I read have a 'follow' button.
So, I thought, why not have followers? I know why: because people don't WANT to follow.
And why would they want to do that? I guess something's missing from my blog. Comment and tell me what you think.

           Okay.So yesterday I went out to eat with my family and when I came home there was a package in my mailbox. Now: I'll put it in a story, using the name Bella as me.

       The navy blue jeep pulled up to a brick house and halted slowly. Bella's heart thumped as she popped open her door and ran to the mailbox. Yes! It had come. She hugged it to her chest closely and read her name on the package.
''For Bella D. From: Children's Literature Network.''
Bella rushed over to the door where her family calmly walked inside.  She placed the package on her desk.
'' Mom!"
''Yes, honey?"
''It came!"
Sounding like a six year old excited for the first day of school, Bella slowly untaped the package and peered inside. In the yellow envelope was a book. But not just any book.
She pulled it out tortorously, wondering why she did it so slowly. She anticipated opening the cover up. Inside the cover were two bookmarks. Bella read them aloud.
''Children's Literature Network,and Teens Literature Network.''
She put them beside her and opened up the next page. As she did so, she let out a squeal. There is was! An autograph right under Heather V. Frederick's name. She showed it to her mother, who had gotten the camera and video taped like a paparazzi.
 Bella giggled. She couldn't wait to blog about it!

        As you know, I am a big fan of HVF. She's my favorite author. So when I won the book giveaway, I about died. I've never won a giveaway before. So for the next week I stared out my window when the mail came and was disappointed for all those days. That was, until I saw the mail lady come with a package to our door as we drove off to the resturaunt(more like a joint).
It was really cool. Rosetyler01 from Searching the Clouds, I hope you don't mind if I use this gif:
That's an idea of how my face looked when I opened the package. Yeah. Think about this expression on Bella's face. ( I'll be posting pictures soon. Of the book, not my face. Not allowed to do that.)
   Remember to post a comment!
-Jane Blogger
Does anyone think I'll be nominated for some kind of award?

Sunday, December 29, 2013

My Favorite Anne Quotes

 Anne as in Anne of Green Gables
Oh, how I love that book!

     My first favorite quote is when she 'loses' Marilla's brooch:
''Oh, amythests are like the souls of violets,''
Now, only Anne, would and could say something so lovely, so poetical like that. I adore Anne. She's definetly a literary sister. Just like the MDBC is the Mother Daughter Book Club I don't have in real life.
The next one is when Josie Pie, Jane, and Ruby announce to Anne about the Avery award.
''It's delightful to have grand plans. It makes life so interesting.''
 Now this may not be as lovely(or quite as poetical)  as the amythest quote, but it's the way she said it. Don't you love it? Anne of Green Gables is one of my favorite books. The book before it, ''Before Green Gables,'' by Budge Wilson, is just as amazing. Depressing(this is a tear-maker, for sure) but just as amazing. It totally makes sense of how Mrs.Spencer came and got Anne and everything before that as well.
No spoilers, though. And I love the cover. I have become a sucker for good covers.
Mine was a hard cover, so it looked like this(the first one without the picture, but I have two so yeah):

  The cover will explain itself once you finish reading. I totally reccomend these books!

-In Need Of A Logo-

Jane Here.

So as I was looking across Awesome Book Assessment, and realized: 
Seriously--I mean, no professional website*scoff*should ever not have a logo. 
Am I right?
So this thought--this sudden thought--struck me over the head like a baseball bat, as Mrs.Sloane-Kinkaid would say(MDBC.).
   And with that, I venture into the logo-making world, with high hopes for beautiful logos and no price tags on them. If you catch my drift.
That's all I needed to say for today. Happy New Year!
- Jane Blogger

Alicia the Awesome

It was a chilly November morning.....

Okay, okay, I didn't REALLY meet Alicia the Awesome, but I fell across her blog and I must say it is one of the best I've read. I think I have three favorites: Awesome Book Assessment, Awkwordly Emma, and Searching the Clouds.
*puts hand on screen*
'Fellow book bloggers unite!'
Okay, anyway, Alicia is one of the best writers I know. You should really check out her blog, and it's mostly book reviews.  Best of all, she'll be hosting a post for a day :)
That should be right. Thanks, Alicia!
-Jane Blogger

Friday, December 27, 2013

My First Random Friday Post!

   Hello everyone! Happy Friday--and with this gleeful morning I bring Random Fridays.
My first one!
Writer's Problems

  Anyone else? Dreams, stray thoughts--whatever they can do to weasel themselves more lines on a page.

Writer's tongue, I suppose. It happens to me. Like, I'm sitting with a notebook or I'm dreaming characters up and I write and then I look up and forget how to speak. Some people say writers are the quiet ones.

This is true. I have the most trouble catching myself in words -- isn't that weird?

Well, that's all for today's Random Friday! Thanks, Awkwordly Emma!
- Jane Blogger    
I have a writer's problem:
 That moment when you realize the short sentence you thought up to make suspense really takes up two lines.

Bucket List~Awkordly Emma

Jane here, and here it is: My Bucket List. It's pretty pitiful.

1.  Break a Piano.
I mean, it always happens on TV but I want the pure thrill of hearing notes ring out gleefully.
2. Break a guiness world record.
Seriously, how do people do these things?
3. Like you, Emma, I would like to have a library in my cottage, which leads me to my next bullet.
4.  Own a cottage
        A cottage, the perfect place for a writer and dreamer. It'll be white or yellow with a little black roof and white lace curtains. In the spring there'll be a garden. It'll look so pretty, glazed with snow in the Winter.
5. Meet my favorite author.
 Oh, there are so many.
6. Get published--Oh how I would love to see my words in black print, sprawled across a white-as-snow page[wow, that's sounds poetic cx].
7. Get known in the Blogger World.

That's it, and as much as I hate to stop at a number like 7, I've drawn a couple of blanks. I'll update it later.
- Jane B.

Branching Out

 Hello and how'd ya  do? I'm fine.  But here's my problem:

  • I
  • need
  • new
  • books
  • desperately!
 No, seriously. I've been eating up The Wonder of Charlie Anne, but I need  new books. It's like;I have some book's parts memorized. SERIOUSLY. Anyway, I am going to release new info on myself.
  1. I want to be a teacher(I got a chalkboard for Christmas[does happy dance]!)
  2.  Or Broadway performer
  3. I have a brother who I love TO BITS [Did I already say that?]
  4.  I'm a cheerleader and an English/Book lover, which is kind of a weird mix.
  5. I'd like more people to read my blog because I've had different blogs over the years[some I created because I was bored] and finally this one seems to have the right theme.
I'd also like to be a Rockette someday, which is why some people think I'm a big dreamer.
That's all for now. I'm thinking of letting someone else host a post. What would you guys think of that?

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Merry Christmas!

 Merry Christmas and a  happy new year to all. I love ya'll an I'll see you guys in twenty fourteen..
With a new piece from my to-be book!
 Betcha can't wait for that. (pun-insert laugh)
Also, I'll be taking a poll for the new color scheme of  the blog. It needs more *BAM* attention, so colors are important.
Book of the year: Well, here are our nominees.
'Confetti Girl,'  By Diana Lopez
'Books 4-6 in the Mother Daughter Book Club Series,' By Heather V. Frederick
' The name of this book is Secret' By an anonymous writer
' Ruby's Slippers,' By Tricia Rayburn.
' The Secret Life of Walter Mitty,' (Sorry guys I forgot the author!)

    Most of these are children's literature and young adult reads, but if you have read ANY of them put in a word for me and I'll post opinions here.
 Please do so fast,
-Jane B.

Merry Christmas and a happy new year!

Jane here wishing everyone a Mery Chritstmas and a happy  new year.  Love ya'll. Seeya in! 2014!
(Sorry the pic is bad.  It's of  the curtain at Radio City.I saw the rockettes.)
-Jane Blogger

Monday, December 23, 2013

Writing A Book

   Hi, it's Jane here. I want to share big news:
I am going to TRY to write a book. I've thought of the name(it's for the Olivia Rake story):
Crying in the darkness
Here's an update!!!!
 The image of him, sipping coffee by himself, black button-down coat and all was too upsetting to think about. How can I not, though? My FATHER, the one who had walked away from my family a couple of months ago was still in town. I miss him. I miss his olive skin and jet black hair and hazel eyes he passed on to me. I miss the hug he used to give me, and I miss him kissing my forehead before bed and if I cried he would lull me to sleep.
 But after all that, I’m stuck with one question: Why?
            Why did he leave my mother to cry in the darkness, as she says? Why did he leave me without a goodbye or a simple ‘forgive me, my Olivia.’? And most of all, why was he in the coffee shop that day?
 The vivid image of him is painted in my mind, making me hold my stomach and shiver in fear. He looked—well, scary. For a girl who was abandoned by her parent, it’s frightening.
   Sometimes I just want to run away from everything. Just run away—but I would at least leave a note. I remember when I was 4, I was mad at my mother because she didn’t let me get ice cream because I was allergic. I was furious because all the other kids were eating it, and I pouted. I ran away from the park but then an old lady knew who I was and brought me to my mother. If I ran away and the old lady was still alive I’d be (and her as well) too old for her to bring back home.
‘’ Mom I’m going for a walk.’’ I pushed the thought of the old lady out of my mind and forced myself to be questioning my father.
‘’Okay, be back soon.’’ My mother’s voice was shaking. From crying. Sometimes I wonder why she doesn’t stop.
 I grab my journal and my jacket. I shrug on the jacket and my eyes fill with tears. It smells like my father because I hugged him every day with it on.
I shove the journal in the biggest pocket and swing open the door. I zip up the jacket, and then take a deep breath.
I run as fast as a cheetah.
I run until I think I’m far away from all my problems. I run until I’m tired. I run until I reach a soothing place.
   It really is soothing. Imagine green for miles and miles, and flowers in patches of ten.  Imagine a river right nearby. Imagine the sweet sound of birds chirping. I hop around in the meadow, hoping nobody’s around.  I fall in a heap on the floor, noticing the sun is shining and there’s no snow around.
I must be dreaming.
 Or maybe I’m not, because I can still see my father in the back of my mind.
  I run to the top of one of a million bouncing hills, and shout at the top of my lungs:
My words bounce back.
‘’ WHY CAN’T I SEE YOU?’’ I shout, tears rushing down my cheeks. All of a sudden I see a figure running.
Is that you Daddy?
The figure is saying something to me. I can feel it. Or else I’m hallucinating.  I know I’m not.
‘’NO!” I scream out to it as it fades away. ‘’DADDY DON’T LEAVE ME!!”
   But even though I couldn’t hear what he said, I made up his words in my head.

Forgive me, Olivia.

Please tell me if you like it!

Sunday, December 22, 2013

Going Mobile

Jane Blogger here!
Posting from an Android tablet.
That's right,folks. The Anything Blog is going MOBILE.
So now, I can upload pics!

Oh, by the way. I made a copyright for this so nobody can steal my stories.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

Brief Synopsis& Sneek peek!

 Here's a brief synopsis of a story idea:
Olivia Rake, 13, can't handle her own emotions. But how can she? She's growing up, and her father just walked out. Meanwhile, her mother is depressed and alone. How can she possibly stay calm?
But when her best friend turns on her and  her brother gets diagnosed with cancer, she learns she can be just as strong on her own. 
Olivia Rake clings to her journal, the only one who seems to listen.

  It's a weekend.
Now, normally, I would've been as happy as ever, but today my mother looks especially sad.
She's in bed, head in hands and cheeks wet from crying.
''Mama,'' I try to console her. ''Mama,'' I repeat, but she doesn't stop crying. I try to sound encouraging, but it's extremely hard.  My voice cracks.  Then, I relize my mom isn't fine on her own.
How can she be?
 My mother is like an ornament pretty and nice. But when people aren't careful, she can shatter into a million peices. Looking at my mom, I feel sorry and there's a deep feeling that I can't recongnize.
 I slip out of the room. 
   It's December 21st, and I take out my journal and climb up on the window  seat.
Dear Journal
   Nothing's right. My brother's off at college and my mother's here but not SAYING or DOING anything. It's like I'm all alone. As angry as I am with him,  I need my dad to come home.
I close my journal, making a mental note to add to the entry later. My mother won't mind if I sit outside. I slip on my coat and scurry outside, feeling snow rest on the brim of my eyelashes.
'' Dad come home,'' I sing softly. ''Dad come home,'' I repeat.
'' Where did you run, I need you! Please, Daddy.'' I say, my eyes filling up with tears wh`en I say Daddy.
For a moment I hear my name, in his deep, solemn voice, but I relize it's only my imagination.
 Oh, but I wish it wasn't.
''Ma, let's go swing by the coffee shop,'' I call out to her from the stairs. A smile breaks out on my face. No more whimpering!
''Ma-a!" I sing, swirling up the stairs.
'' Olivia!" My mother scolds. '' Don't startle me like that.''
''Let's go to the little shop up the street. You can't stay here like a hermit.''
  Like a mother, I leave my mother to sit there on her bed stubbornly while I take out clothes. Preferably pretty ones that she doesn't wear anymore. A black British dress with sailor-chick buttons on the top, and white tights with knee-high high heel boots.
'' Here,'' I order, placing them on the bed as she reluctantly peels off her robe. ''I'm getting ready too.''
    I walk out of the room and close the door. I needed to get out of the house. Wait a minute, where's my journal?
   I start to panick. My journal was the thing that holds my secrets, my past, the thing that if it was discovered it would hold everything you'd need in a biography. And now I had lost it!
 I started turning the house upside down. Tears sprung to my eyes. I couldn't say why that journal meant so much to me. Not in front of my mom, it would strike her as mean ; The reason was that my dad had written a letter in it, and he said not to look at it until Christmas Eve. I would never find out what it had said!
''I'm ready,'' My mom said, stumbling down the stairs. I grabbed her hand and walked out the door with her, although now I was the one who didn't want to go anywhere.
She delicately taps the sidewalk with the tip of her heels, now glazed with snow.  We get there soon, and I swing the door open, walking into a place with the smell of heaven.
While my mom went to go order, I sat down and looked through pictures and checked twitter.  She came back and sat across from me, looking more relaxed. She got whipped cream on her coffee, and she hides a big smile behind the mountain of it.
'' You know, this place brings me good memories,'' She said, eyes twinkling. ''When I was in college my girlfriends used to take me here to cheer me up.'' This earns a smile from me, but it disappears when I look over her shoulder. I freeze. My blood freezes. Time stops.  I'm sure my puils turn twice as small.Tears spring to my eyes. I look away, but I have to look back.
''Is there something wronge, Liv?" My mom asks, starting to turn around.
''NO!" I say loudly, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of her seat. ''We're going.''
My mom is so broken she doesn't notice how much I boss her around lately.
''Come ON.'' I say, pulling her. It looks immature but I don't care.
I run ahead of her, grabbing my keys out of my pocket and letting myself in. I run upstairs to my room, and slam my door. I throw myself on the bed and curl up into a ball.
My mom must've run, too, because only a few minutes later there's a knock on my door. I don't say come in, but she lets herself in anyway.
''I found your journal,'' She says softly, and something tells me she read the Christmas Eve letter.
''Thanks.'' I grumble, grabbing it away from her.
''Liv, you can tell me what happened just now. I promise I won't tell if you don't want me to.''
 But I can't tell her, I can't. Because what I had just seen wasn't able to magically erase itself. I was traumatized.
 Five little words can explain everything.
I just saw my father.

Jane here. These are irish names. Pronounced?
Caoihme: Kee-va
Ashling: (self explanatory)
Brana: Brah nah .
  Look up the meanings :) They're really cool.
Co = Ke


I stared in the mirror. I didn't recall having so many freckles. Frowning, I take the soap and scrub at them.
'' ASHLING!" My six year old sister sings. I swiftly hide the soap behind my back, irritated. The soap bubbles up in the space between my fingers and I almost cringe. I HATE that feeling.
'' Caoihme,'' I say, embarrassed and annoyed.
'' Mammy wants you to hurry up for dinner,'' She replies matter of factly.
'' Okay, okay,'' I say. ''I'll be there in a moment.''
She skips out of the room and I shut the door, not bothering to keep it ajar. I know I'm a little too old to be trying to scrub off freckles, but....It seemed to work in the book I read. You see, this is my monthly ritual.
I do it every month and do a freckle count.
'' ASHLING!" My father calls me, his Irish accent coming out a bit. He hates to wait for dinner.
 Reluctantly, I put the soap back and wipe my face off. I slip out the door and forget to shut off the light.
 We hold hands as our father softly says grace, then we raise our heads to see what my mother will bring out.
 My sister struts in with the drinks, and the tip of my drink sloshes over.
'' Here, Ash. Sorry you don't have enough.'' She tells me and sets my drink down.
''It's fine, Co.''
Sometimes having a sister can be really annoying but every now and then she's just an angel.
 We sit in silence and eat our food. Well, my father tries to eat and bounce my sister on his knee. She eats up her mashed potatoes, too.
 After, I push back from the table. I bring my dishes to the sink sink and with a satisfying clang they fall in.

Monday, December 16, 2013


Hello, everyone and anyone! It's Jane(As simple as the name is, I have noticed a few mispronounciation[although that's not a word]s. So here, this is how you pronounce JANE.
Jayeen,Jaynuh, Jayne) again, with your story update!
This is inspired by Are you there,God? It's me, Margaret. By Judy Blume. This is a great read for mothers and daughters dealing with the growing-up problem.
I just relized that I might close this whole website down.People might copy stories and publish them and make millions. ._.
I am not going to post until I decide.
                                                  -Jane B.


*Writer's worst emergency!

Friday, December 13, 2013

Growing Up & New Story (I hope I can balance them all!)

    It'a Jane again-- Nice to virtually know that you're reading.
All I can say is: Growing up can be hard for both parents and children. I noticed this earlier today, that in order too survive that difficult stage of your life, you  need to help EACHOTHER. Why? If you're both going through the same problem, you'll need the same advice! Make sense, now?
 Be grateful for parents/people who love you.
I have another part of the story, and the new character is modeled after myself: Aveline ( aveline is not my real name, by the way)
Don't be surprised if i drop one of these suddenly. This is just a try-out charry.


    I flip the page anxiously and practically stumble over myself.
''Watch where you're going,'' My mother tells me sternly. My brown eyes blink and scan the page again, filling with tears.
It's  a story, Aveline--A character dying happened for a specific reason. It was inevitable. I tell myself sternly, blinking back the tears. My mom's brown eyes peer at me over her glasses, which have slipped to the tip of her nose. 
    I close the book, wishing the author had chosen differently between life or death. My mother teases me about caring too much about books-- but I can't hellp it...she was my favorite character.
''Mom, I need to get to the bus before I'm late!" I called, shrugging on my jacket.
'' Okay, love you, bye, I have to...'' My mom's voice drowns out before she finishes her sentance.
'' Kay, Love ya','' I say, swinging my backpack on and stuffing my book into my backpack.
''Wait!" My mom protests, coming toward me again. '' Happy first day of school,'' She says, kissing my forehead.
''Bye, mom,'' I say, exasperated.
''Okay,okay, go,'' My mom says, shooing me out.
I scurry toward the stop, silently. I have no friends here-- but I didn't mind as much  as most people would.
I close my eyes and jog up the bus stairs, breathing through my nose intensely.
''Caught it by the skin of your teeth,'' The bus driver says, her smile broad. Suddenly I realize thar I haven't had time to brush my hair.  But I have to smile when I realize she uses one of my favorite figuritive sayings, one that I thought only I used.
I pull my brown hair back into a sloppy ponytail, and cooly slide into a seat in the front of the bus. Behind me I hear a rowdy group of boys. A glow forms on my cheeks when I realize who they are.
'' Hey Christian! Nice cut!"I hear a boy tease.
''Had no time to go to the parlour so my ma did it,'' He said in a distinct Queens accent. I loved how he used parlour, and I felt my cheeks start to glow and I instantly crack my book open.
That is, until the drama starts.
'' Hey, looks like you got a cut before 7th grade, too!" Christian tells me, and for a second I think he's complimenting me on my bangs(that hide my left eye), until I see he's smirking.
''Yeah,'' I say cautiously, braiding it nervously.
  The boys start to crow with laughter and I whip around to face the window. It's a good thing nobody's next to me.
All I can think is: Seventh grade is off to a rough start.*

*Note: This might be a little awkward to read because it's about her growing up, so a lot of times it has ...personal thoughts (if you get my drift)

    I saw this on Random Fridays on STC(Searching the Clouds): I just wanted to re-share :)

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

New Peice of Story


I spun around on my heel, screeching when I saw Lexi.
''What have you DONE?" I cried, placing my hands on her shaking shoulders. She was crying, her eyes watery. The hair styllist looked crushed.
'' It's BLACK,'' Lexi said flatly.
'' You'll look beautiful either way, Zez,'' I told her, trying not to sound too discouraging.
'' I look GOTH,'' She wailed. 
I sat next to her on the sofa, where a magazine showing a lady with the same haircut as Lexi--except on Lexi it looked like a hair block that you would put on a lego. It was boxy around her face, with wind-blown bangs--it replaced her wavy brunette hair. Her mascara was running from her crying.
'' i guess it isn't so BAD,'' She said, fingering it thoughtfully. The hairstylist brightened, then launched into a discussion about which conditioner she should use. When I saw Lexi the next morning, My mouth dropped open.
Fishnet tights, tight black leather skirt, scoop neck metallic shirt with a black leather jacket over it.
Black jewelry draped around her--well, everywhere. 
'' What have you done with my friend?" I gasped, but she popped her gum, rolled her eyes, then strode away with a girl I had never seen before.
 Behind me, I heard a patter of footsteps, someone jogging toward me from behind.
'' Hey Sarah,'' Samantha said, and I whipped around.
''Hi,'' I bark, and clipped to my words was fear. ''Sorry,'' I mumble.
'' What happened,'' Samantha asked, brown eyes glowing sympathetically.
'' Lexi's changed- I mean, I just saw her, and she was all,'' I cut myself off, searching for the right words.
'' Rebel-like?" Samantha says.
I nod. ''You saw her?"
''Yeah, and she ignored me too.''
How come you're not surprised? I wonder, and as if reading my thoughts, she says:
'' C;mon, Sarah. We were bound to drift away sometime.''

Sunday, December 8, 2013

This is the NEXT part of the Fanfiction

One word from Jane Blogger: Enjoy!


    I start to hyperventilate when I realize what's going on. 
'' Em, what's the matter?"
I can't answer. My mouth is too dry.
'' We don't need to send the texts,'' I croak.
''Why?" Says Becca, and even though I'm about to faint I think she's being dramatic.
''Mrs. Loomis published my book lampooning Stinkerbelle,'' I gasp. ''She must've found out!"
'' Oh no, guys. We can only imagine what Stinkerbelle will do to get back at you. Well, us.'' Megan says, and Cassidy blushes. We all know about Tristan. 
'' Why is she even in town?" Becca asks, when I'm finally done with my panic attack.
'' She wants to spend more time with Sophie-- at least that's what I've been told.'' Megan reports, fast as lightning.
'' Can't she just accept the fact that we're at least trying not to pull any pranks on her?" I say heatedly. ''And now look what she's done--going off and stealing my best friend .''
'' Woah,'' Cassidy crows, slapping me a high five. '' Way to get your Jane on!"
I blush. Normally Cassidy is the fiestiest of the girls in the group--well, it's a tie with her and Becca.
'' Why don't we go and try to 'comfort' her?" Megan asks. She's trying the hardest to get along with Stinkerbelle because Sophie and her are close. When she sees our puzzled expressions, she quickly says 'find out what shee has against us.'
'' But how do we know where she is?" I say, and my phone buzzes again. My friends wiggle anxiously.
I slip it out of my pocket again, and look at the message.
Stinkerbelle: Jess and I at the Concord Animal Shelter!
A picture is beside it of her holding up a kitten who's paws are up with nails revealed in protest.
'' Doesn't she normally do that with Savannah?" Becca asks.
''Duh, Annabelle met Savannah at the wedding, remember? She KNOWS she and Jess volunteer there.''
But when the next text comes in I hold my breath.

What in the world?

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Continuation of the Fanfiction!

   This is another fancfiction of the one before- enjoy!


I stare at my phone and try really hard to figure out what's going on. Could Darcy know?
'' Darcy!" I call, but immediately realize he's at Dartmouth. I miss him.
Instead, I look to my sistren. My reply all means - All of the Mother-Daughter Book Club!(Except for Jess)

Emma: Guys! Just got a text from Stinkerbelle saying see you later!
Megan: Well you get the occasional text from Annabelle, right?
Emma: Well this time a pic was tagged with it! Of her and Jess taking a pic!
Cassidy: When did it happen?
Emma: Right after Jess left I got it!
Becca: This is an emergency. Meet me at my house if you can today. R u busy, Cass?
Cassidy: Nope. No games till a week. Finally a break!
Emma: ASAP Becca's house!

I couldn't beleive it. 
'' Dad I'm going over to Becca's-- that okay?"
''Sure, Ems. Don't come back too late.''
'' I won't. ''
I sprinted to the door and swung it open. I decided that I'd walk- their house isn't so far away.
When I get there  I see Megan and Cassidy talking to Becca. She's kind of the leader( the take-charge kind, like her mother) of our sistren and so she's the one who'd sort everything out. Cassidy is't too hot on pranks now, but we still love to get our Jane on.
''Hey guys,'' I say breathlessly as they let me in. My heart starts pounding.
''Let me see your phone, Em,'' Cassidy says, holding out her hand. Megan and Becca crane over her shoulder to see the picture and text.
'' I can see it-- Right,'' She pauses before tapping the message with her fingernail.
''Open it!" Megan and Becca whine on cue anxiously.
'' Okay, okay, guys.'' 
The phone makes a 'clinky' sound and the message opens, and as the message opend, my friend's mouths opened.
'' Stinkerbelle sent you that?" Cassidy crows, incredulous.
 I nod sadly. 
'' Right when I was going to send Jess a text about my new story - a family on a farm who suddenly has to--'' I start to rant on my story before Becca clasps her hand over my mouth.
'' Off topic, Em.''
'' I have an idea,'' Says megan suddenly, startling us. '' Why don't we say, Jess can you come over to my house ASAP- Then send Annabele a text saying see you where?'' 
I think it over, cautiously. '' Good thinking, Megs,'' I declare, and feel confident because neither of them are lies.
But something goes terribly wrong.

Friday, December 6, 2013

MDBC Chapter

 I have decided to make spin-off chapters, like Fanfiction for a chapter with an event happening to a member of The Mother- Daughter Book Club

Emma H.

''Jess, I just don't know what to write!'' I exclaim in horror. She turns around, blue eyes widened in shock.
'' Emma Jane Hawthrone, you're the LAST person I'd think of to run out of ideas for a story,'' She cries, flopping  onto my bed with her thick book of astronomy in her hand.
'' I've tried poetry--'' She lets out a little giggle, probably thinking of my ''Zach Attack'' poem way back in 6th grade. That gets a laugh now. '' I've trie-- well, every type of  writing there is.'' I finish miserably, and she closes her book, which breathes cold air.
'' Time for some writer-to-writer talk.'' 
 For a minute I don't understand what she means until she drags me down the hall to my author's office. 
His 'do not disturb--on deadline' sign isn't there, so  she pushes me into his office, sending me stumbling into the room and startling him.
''  What's up?" My dad says, swiveling toward me and taking another bite of his cookie.
'' I-I don't,'' I burst into tears before I could finish. Why was this happening? Was this a sign I shouldn't be a writer? My dad looks at me sympathetically.
'' Don't know what to write?" He asks, and I nod. He passes me a tissue. ''Skim through some favorites and search for information.''
 Sure enough, I brought down all my favorite book club reads, and devoured each part of them that I love. Perfect remedy.
''Thanks, dad,'' I say, and flutter my fingers at him. I was going to see what Jess was doing downstairs--more importantly, I was going to tell her my story's new plot.
 ''She said she had to go to Colonial because doors might close and she might get in trouble. Plus, she doesn't want to miss seeing Mrs. Crandall's kids.'' My mom tells me when she sees my puzzled look.
'' K,'' I say, and slide my phone out from my pocket. I'm dying to tell Megan and Jess ( her especially ) what my new story will be about. I always tell them about my stories. Well, Jess. I start to go to 'contacts' to send a text, but before I can, a text comes in.

 It's a picture of Annabelle Fairfax and Jess! Arm in arm, smiling sweetly. Jess looks sweet as usual-- Annabelle looks, well, poisonous. A text is sent beside the picture.

Stinkerbelle: See you soon!

I started to snicker when I saw ''Stinkerbelle''( Darcy somehow rigged my phone so that whenever Annabelle sends me a text it immediately transfers to the name ''Stinkerbelle )  but then my blood froze. My fingers go numb.
What in the world is Annabelle doing with Jess?

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Another Small Post

So it's Jane Blogger again.
So it may not may Mother's Day or even Christmas ( My favorite holiday) just yet, but I realized a couple of days ago that my mom helps me with a lot. So take time to say thanks to your mom, give thanks if you had a mom, and enjoyed  her while she was with you.
   Moms can do a lot. Thanks, mom. * wipes eyes with sleeve and sniffs *
A totally unrelated question/survey:
 So I'm working on a story, and here are the names of the characters so far ( the mom is fake, and Wilfelma and Riley are best friends, and Ethel is Wilfelma's sister, Bif is a fostered sister)
1. Wilfelma ( main character
2. Riley (second main)
3. Mom ( undecided name yet, a big part of the story)
4. Ethel ( side character for Wilfelma, major character for Riley)
5. Bif ( A major character for Wilfelma)

    Please help me with these names! They sound horrible, I know.  Please give more ideas for me!!!!

 Please respond to this Mystery Character Weekly Post!
- She's a small girl of the age of 6
- Brown hair
- Bright green eyes
- Peachy skin with a few freckles across her nose

 Now it's your job to make her personality, name, and even change the age if you want! ||I got this inspiration from Saturday Story Starters of HVF's blog- Thanks Mrs. Frederick!||
   Next week I will try to mash all your ideas together to mold one character-- and even make a backstory. I will take suggestions!