Wednesday, January 29, 2014

Pageviews and Other things!

                           My stats update!(Note, I was tempted to change the stats. I didn't!):

Pageviews by Countries

Graph of most popular countries among blog viewers
United States
United Kingdom

   Hi, RT. Anyway, it's not You Decide Friday or Suggestion Sunday YET...But any reccomendations for book reviews, features, questions. Hmm? I love hearing your opinions :D
 -Just a small post, thanks for reading!
                                               Jane Blogger 

New Excerpt from my book!

                            Hey everyone! I'm here with my new story, "Worth more than a Penny"! Read more below.

         "Worth more than a Penny" is a story about a slave named Penny, who works on a plantation with her mother.  When her mother isn't doing so well, she must go find the white friend she rejected some time ago.  But people change. They must set aside their differences and prove that an "interracial" friendhsip really CAN work.
Genre: Historical Fiction
(Still working on getting the historical years right. :[ I'm not good with that so my dad's helping me)
       Here's the excerpt(do not copy, this website is copyrighted):
It's lengthy:


         If God wanted you to have peachy cream skin and golden curls he would’ve given you the looks you have anyway because he knew you’d be absolutely beautiful without them.
                                                                                                             -Georgia D., Mother of author
 Hi. My name is Penny. If you can imagine what I look like, imagine it.
Done yet?
  Okay, good. Well if ya’ll must know, I have dark hair and penny colored complexion. My mama and I are slaves.    My mama is in a field about 50 yards away from where I’m relaxing. I scramble to get up because the man with the whip might come any moment right now. I gotta work work work.
  I look at my aching, callused hands. I’m picking cotton. It’s not all fluffy(like ya'll have it) when it constantly scrubs against your hands.
Being seventeen, I wish I could have nice blonde hair with peachy-cream skin.
Whenever I tell my mama that, though, she says I need to be proud of my ‘nice colored’ skin. Every time she says that I get aggravated.
   I sit down and lean against the tree, and a tear leaks down my cheek.  I rub my hands on my face to get it away.
“You better get working, or else they’ll see you,” My mother whispers to me, and I get startled. I don’t scream. I woulda gotten a beating.
“Mama, go! They’ll see you talking to me.”
She runs away and I get up reluctantly. I’m thinking, it’s 1862 and they still haven’t abolished slavery? Four years have gone, people.
   A faint voice whispers my name. I turn around. It’s someone….not like me. She has (I notice envyingly) blonde hair and peachy skin. Her blue eyes beckon me. I turn my back to whoever it is. Probably another trick. No person other than my mother has been a true friend. I’m not about to give up my dignity now.
“Penny.” It comes again.  I turn around to her.
“Be quiet,” I say icily. “It’s not you who is picking cotton. Go choose your dress for wherever you’re going to.”
She gulps, but looks confident. “I’m not saying for you to work. I need to show you something.”

“Yeah? Like your pretty pink dress? I don’t want to hear about it.”
She gives a sigh and backs away, and then disappears. I don’t care. I don’t need to be associating with her.
“Ma’m are you workin’?” A deep voice says.
“Yes, sir. Very hard, in fact. I’ll have it in a lil’ bit.” I answer quickly, knowing he’d take my word for it.
“Mama,” I whispered, in the middle of the night when we were admiring the stars secretly.
“Yes, honey girl?”
“Will I ever be as beautiful as the star in the sky?”
 She looked me in the eye. “You gleam like a just-shined penny. You shine like a star in the night. You sparkle and glitter with every blink of an eye. Your smile gives the world light.”
 I start to tear up at her poem, and she squeezes me tighter. “Mama?” I ask, my voice trembling.
“Will people ever be like a constellation—all together and making something beautiful?”
 She looked me in the eye again, and I dug my face in her shoulder. I looked up at her for one last moment, and realized she was crying, too.

   In the morning, she and I’s chore was to wash the master’s son’s shirts. They were dirty, and Mama and I went out to the field(grass this time) to wash them. There was a river nearby.
    We took the clothes and went where we were going to.
“Mama, I am going to go to the river. I need a break.”
She gives me a forlorn look. “You know we can’t be takin’ breaks ‘round here.”
“Please, Mama? Please? I’ll hurry.”
“I’m going to ‘get more water’ when you need to hurry, okay?”
   I run off to the river and lay down on the shore; arms sprawled out in front of me. I put my hands near the water then dip them in.
   It’s cool and relaxing. I hear a noise—it’s a splash. Suppose my master was here, waiting for me to come. Then…….crack! He would whip me.  I looked around nervously, and saw who it was.

Dreams DO come true!

         Dreams DO come true!

You all know, that I am a REALLY big fan of HVF and especially her books, right? Particularly the Mother-Daughter Book Club Series.
  There's been an announcement made.
       Can you believe it? All those desperate pleas from readers begging for her to do it, and now, come summer of 2015, it'll be done! I'll be counting down the days!!  As soon as I know the cover I'll put a little timer on the bottom of each new post.
 :) Are you excited or WHAT?
                                               - Thanks for reading!
                                                Jane Blogger <3