April 11, 2018

Book Review 2 / Kaylee V

Will She Stay?

By Kaylee V.



If I Stay is a heart wrenching story that is almost guaranteed a few tears. Gayle Forman writes a story that follows along the life of Mia Hall. The story starts off on a normal family snow day. The Hall family decided to visit some friends on their free time, unfortunately on the ride there a snow plow crashes into their vehicle killing almost the entire family on impact. The protagonist Mia Hall faces an outer body experience where it seems as if it's her decision if she wants to stay in the real world, an orphan and accepted Juilliard musician or go into the after life and join her family in the grave.

The book has the reader experience many flashbacks to understand Mia's life before this tragic event took place. As we learn more about her life we relaize music is her entire life, her father being a former rock and roll star himself. Though Mia takes a more classical route deciding to focus her music mind precisley on her cello. Her life was as ordinary as it could be with an ex preformer of a father and a classical loving teen. Though what's an angsty teenage book without an angsty teen romance? One of the major conflicts of the book revolves around her rockstar boyfriend Adam. Their love for music bringing them together and pulling them further apart.

Personally as a reader I felt attached to her younger brother Teddy. We learn about his resemblance to his father with musical taste and his very active personality. Forman makes it seem likely he'd live, doctors believing surgery will fix him right up. Though as we follow the outer body Mia we read as the doctors struggle with surgery and then calling for the time of death. After loosing her brother Mia fully gives up, beginning to walk towards the light. She suddenly hears music playing and we learn her boyfriend Adam put earphones in her body's ears begging her to wake up, begging for her to stay.

That's where the book leaves off. A cliffhanger still wondering if she'll stay. Personally I loved the storyline and the dramatic aspect although I strongly feel as if the writing is very plain.and could use a lot of work. The story is easy to follow but I feel as if it's too easy. Reading it I almost felt like the author was reading the book to me slowly to understand. I have yet to read the sequel and I don't think I will read it.


March 23, 2018

Submissions // Kaylee Vicente

Attached is three screenshots of emails I've received or emails I sent to different publishers. I found all of these publishers via Submission Grinder.

March 7, 2018

Book Review, Kaylee Vicente

It's The 100 Day 21

By Kaylee V.



The 100 Day 21 is a perfect sequel from the 4 book series by Kass Morgan. Kass Morgan isn't a well known author, her first book being the beginning of The 100 book series. The book itself became so popular it became a well known televised show on The CW. The show already working on it's 5th season (possibility of a 5th book). A lot of questions were stirring after the ending of the first book, every single one addressed. Though at the end of this book more and more questions arise.

The main question was the major cliffhanger at the end of the series, they weren't alone on the ground. The delinquent teens thought it was just themselves on the radioactive earth but it turned out people must've survived the catalyst. It didn't seem as if the 'grounders' were friendly, our first encounter with them was a brutal murder of Asher (one of the tougher boys from the Ark). Another question still remained, where is Octavia? This question also goes along with the new conflict with the grounders. As the story progresses we learn that the grounders are split up. Some believe that the newly arrived Arkanians are friends while the other group visualize them as foe. The small group of angry grounders take one life and kidnap another.

Back on the failing Ark more and more conflict emerges. We get more background on Luke and Glass's history and even a heart wrenching confession that may cost them their relationship.

Like any good book series after the ending of one there's always a question needing to be answered. In this case we're all waiting to see what happens when the Ark comes to the ground. Though since 2 more books have officially been released you can find out yourself just what happens to our favorite characters and how they might interact with their new challenges.



March 6, 2018

Book Review

Grave Mercy

By Hailey Lajoie


The story Grave Mercy takes you on a trip of plots and turns, through the history of inside the dutch kingdom as the french regime is calling for war. Robin Lafever tells a story of betrayal and heart aches. The protagonist, Ismae, is born a servant of Mortain, the god of death.

Hidden in the shadows of her abusive father who sells poor Ismae to another man. This man tries to use her, but sees the scar that runs down her back- her death mark- and is horrified. He sends her away, and where she ends up is the church, the church of Mortain. Here she is introduced in and trains to become an assassin.

Soon she gets her first huge mission, to act as a mistress to Duval, a man she hates, to figure out and protect the royal empire. Here betrayal and lying is daily routine for everyone. The question lies who can Ismae really trust? Can she trust the one she loves?

Even though the plot is creative, and original. The idea of assassins is a common idea but what is done with the story is far from that. Even though this, the fight scenes were lacking in description and excitement. Another one of my complaints would be that the plot is very slow moving, and has a lot of non-essential points to it. The dialogue was realistic though. I could picture the people having these conversations for the year they were in, along with a full picture of every character. Each character was well described with a backstory, and a distinct personality.

The main character, Ismae, is overrated though. I hate her character and it is as if the other characters have more development then her. In the beginning of the book she describes herself as cold hearted with a soft side, and by the end of the book it is like someone else is writing it. This book would be much better written in third person instead of a first person.

Even though this book has a great plot, the writing structure outweighs it. I would not suggest this book to dear readers. I have not read any other of Robin Lafevers book, so I do not say he is a poor writer, but it just did not fit what I like to read.


February 18, 2018

Writing Exercises

Hailey Lajoie


Fear of Mr.Greene


Walking into the class, I see a man. Taking my seet I realize that this man is the ruler of this kingdom, and the blood rushes through me. 'This guy should not be teaching' I look at his green flannel, and his jeans that hung on him as if they were two sizes to big for his twig legs. I look down at my desk shaking my head. What am I doing here? " Today we will be working on…" I hear but it trails out of my mind, as I eyed around me at the others. None of them seemed concerned, instead they seemed eager to begin. I know there is something up with this guy, he looks like any cowboy villian how couldn't there be? He has the shoes that click onto the ground with every step to match the collection. His hair is long, it is at shoulder length, and at the corners of his face a beard begins to trickle forth. I look down, as my eyes divert away and towards the desk.

I zoned out for a few seconds before the man standing behind me jumped me out of the trance. I turn around, getting an even closer view of him. His veins seem to pop out of his arms, clear and distinctive, but there is shiny glimmer on his finger, and as soon it catches my eye  my mind races. How is he married?

"Are you alright?"

I jump slightly, nodding. " Yea, I'm fine. "

He nods, buying my lie for the moment it seems. " Okay, just making sure." He says and my mind changes direction. Maybe he is not so bad, maybe it was just fear? He is married after all… I shake my head, he is married but it means nothing. He is probably like every other man, a worthless piece of trash. I turn to the teacher, " I need to go to guidance." He nodded, "Get a pass. "



Dialogue


The man stumbled down the stairs, "Who's there?" There was no answer other than heavy breathing, " Who's there?" He eyes around the room, holding his cane up in the air. As he stepped forward.

The man jumped back, as a sound exploded into the air. His head turned, glass shattered to pieces laid on the ground. He huffed, holding up his cane, "Alright ya scoundrel, come out."

A young boy came out of from behind the bureau, his hand shaking.

"Who the hell are you? " The man eyed the boy up and down.

" I am Jack, Jack Phillips  What's your name? "

"Huh, My name is Peter. What are you doing in here?"

" I was outside playing, and," The boy bounced up and down," And my ball flew into here, so being the airplane I am I flew to get it and I found a door so I became an explorer."

The man put his hand out in front of the boy. " Second thought, I don't want to know."

"But I'm not done!"

" I don't care kid." The man huffed. "Get out of my house." He huffed.

" Oh, Okay." He ran past the man and out of the house.  



February 15, 2018

Writing Exercise 2/12 - Invitation to edit

172006041@nsd42.net has invited you to edit the following document:
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Writing Exercise 2/15 - Invitation to edit

172006041@nsd42.net has invited you to edit the following document:
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Fwd:


---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Aby Hahn <994800761@nsd42.net>
Date: Thu, Feb 15, 2018 at 10:01 AM
Subject:
To: teachergreene.publishorperish@blogger.com


  • Papers sprawled across the teacher's desk

  • An array of weird board games that look like they haven't been touched in years.

  • A huge television that almost looks like a baby dinosaur from behind

  • A row of computers and old chairs with weird students sitting in each one

  • Boring off white walls with a couple colored papers that look like they're there in hopes to cover up the gloominess.


I walked in to my new classroom and the first thing that caught my eye was the array of the computers. I have always loved writing, and since this was an English class, it was safe to assume that all of those computers were there for writing. I also loved the sound of keyboards clicking. Something about the clicks that go so fast around the room sounds so productive. After walking in to the room, I could smell coffee coming from the teacher's desk. It smelled strong and freshly brewed. My house always smells like coffee, especially when you get into the kitchen. Being in this room almost reminded me of home in a way. Then, to make it all even better, the teacher started talking in the most soothing voice. It was deep and sounded almost like a lullaby. I think it's the best when English teachers have a voice like that. It really almost adds to everything they're teaching and everything they're saying. I was ready to learn about everything this English class had to offer and I would do so with a huge smile on my face every day.


  • Long hair that makes me wonder if he likes it that way or if he just can't afford a haircut

  • Levi jeans that are worn in the knee

  • A swamp green button up with a small poke of a red pen cap peeking out of the pocket

  • A little bit of facial hair that is definitely there, but only softly

  • A soothing lullaby voice



  • Papers sprawled across the teacher's desk

  • An array of weird board games that look like they haven't been touched in years.

  • A huge television that almost looks like a baby dinosaur from behind

  • A row of computers and old chairs with weird students sitting in each one

  • Boring off white walls with a couple colored papers that look like they're there in hopes to cover up the gloominess.


I walked in to my new classroom and the first thing that caught my eye was the array of the computers. I have always loved writing, and since this was an English class, it was safe to assume that all of those computers were there for writing. I also loved the sound of keyboards clicking. Something about the clicks that go so fast around the room sounds so productive. After walking in to the room, I could smell coffee coming from the teacher's desk. It smelled strong and freshly brewed. My house always smells like coffee, especially when you get into the kitchen. Being in this room almost reminded me of home in a way. Then, to make it all even better, the teacher started talking in the most soothing voice. It was deep and sounded almost like a lullaby. I think it's the best when English teachers have a voice like that. It really almost adds to everything they're teaching and everything they're saying. I was ready to learn about everything this English class had to offer and I would do so with a huge smile on my face every day.


  • Long hair that makes me wonder if he likes it that way or if he just can't afford a haircut

  • Levi jeans that are worn in the knee

  • A swamp green button up with a small poke of a red pen cap peeking out of the pocket

  • A little bit of facial hair that is definitely there, but only softly

  • A soothing lullaby voice


Josh M Excersise



She walks into the class, full of gray, uenthusiastic students while she displayed the complete opposite, stopping to admire every little thing in the room. First she comes across the shelves upon shelves of typewriters, enough to supply a 1950's publishing company. She knows she'll get annoyed glances from her fellow students if she decides to use the loud, clicky writing tools, but it's not like she has much in common with them to begin with. Besides, she didn't exactly join the class for the students, the only thing they supplied her was that beutiful clickity clack of their creative processes at work. She finds a seat without a computer, wanting to at least have an excuse for using the ancient technology other than that she just wanted to. Sitting in the chair she cringes, knowing the chairs were probably older than her, maybe they even housed a now dead person or two. She pulls out her pocket notebook and begins to write down the idea of this phantom sitter, always finding such ideas more comforting when they can be ripped off and thrown away. She finishes the description, whom turned out to be an aspiring soldier who simply took the class because he had to, but turned out loving it, using as a way to cope during the war. She had been planning on throwing away the idea of the phantom sitter as a form of self-therapy, but now she feels honored to sit where this war veteran once did, the warmth of the seat now feeling like encouragement from a past soul. She looked around from the phantom seat, her thoughts of a dead soldier becoming more and more realistic in her mind as she inspected the numerous examples of aging, the water damage, the yellowed walls, and of course the phantoms chair.


She decides this phantom sitter needs a face to connect with, wouldn't be such a demanding order of character design, simply a young aspiring military officer. First a strong, yet soft face, given he knows of war but not in grim detail. A stron-


The door of the classroom slams shut, in front of it now standing the teacher.


She inspects her mentor for the next six months, noting how militant he looks himself, much like the soldier he wrote of. Then again, her teacher only lgave that impression clothing wise, his hair giving the opposite impression, being wild and unkempt. He walked over to his podium and stood high over her and the rest of the students, giving full view of a coffee stain on the center of his shirt.


"Before you say it, yeah I got coffee on my shirt" He said "It's bound to happen when you're a writer, lot of coffee"


She shaking her head in eager agreement, having had this exact experience time and time again. He takes notice to the little outburst with a chuckle, she buries herself back in her seat in mild embarrassment. He didn't take notice to that, instead went straight into his teaching routine, a lot more fluid and improvised than she was used to.


"My name's Mr. Greene, but you may, though I doubt, know me as R.W.W. Greene" He said, sending schockwaves through the girl. He continued to speak, but the words no longer got to her, she mindlessly fishes through her bag in utter fear. She pulls a weathered book from her bag, worn from mulitple reads, but despite that the front still housed a legible "R.W.W. Greene". She froze up, was she supposed to happy to have her favorite writer as her teacher? Whatever she was supposed to feel, she knew she plain felt anything but. It sure didn't help when he called out her name.


"Abigail Curtis?" He said, forcing Abigails heart skip a beat. She attempted to hide the book as fast as possible.


"You alright? I'm not gonna crucify you for reading or anything, but maybe do this not during a lesson? And from the looks of it you've gone through it enough to recite it" He said, not entirely being wrong.

"Oh, of course, sorry" She said, quickly stuffing the book back inside.

"Oh it's fine, what is it you're reading anyway?" He said. She froze once again, almost having put the book away. Sh looks back up to meet his eyes, while thier was no intensity in them or the question, she couldn't help but feel intimidated.



Maddie Sewade


Jimmy ran out of his house. Of course, his parents didn't chase after him, but instead locked to door behind him. Jimmy ran all the way through town and into the next. The next town over was more of a farming town, which Jimmy enjoyed looked at. He would watch the cows and horses run around in the fields. He would also sometimes run into the fields of corn and steal some for dinner.

Jimmy was admiring the baby cows to his left when he hit the ground. He got up immediately, "Watch it! I was running!"

"Why?" the man on the horse said. It took Jimmy a solid minute and twenty-three seconds to realize what the man said. Jimmy just couldn't get over the man's funny hat.

"My dad told me to do my homework and I didn't wanna do it but he said he would take away my gameboy and so I went to go get a pop from the fridge and I saw that there was no pop so I just took one of my dad's drinks and it was real good so I took another and did my homework and then my momma asked me how I did it so fast and then I took the cigarette out of her mouth and smoked it like she does and she yelled at me so I ran out of the house and now I am here."

Jimmy said this all without taking one single breath. The man on the horse was amazed at the little jittery boy he had just hit with his horse. The man was going to say something, but Jimmy chimed right back in.

"Why are you dressed like that?"

"Because," Jimmy didn't really hear what he said, but he didn't want any space in between the man's words and his.

"What's your name?"

"Vincente."

"Why?"

"Why what?"
"Why is your name Vincente?"

"Because that's the name my mother gave me."

"Well, I don't like it. I'm going to call you Steve,"

"That's not my name,"

"Steve, don't cut me off." Steve looked at Jimmy waiting for him to continue. It wasn't like he was going to say much anyway.

"Aren't you going to ask me what my name is?"

"What's your name?"

"Jimothy. Most people just call me Jimmy. I don't know why my name is Jimothy, but there was this kid in the fourth grade with a name Timothy. We called ourselves 'Jimothy and Timothy' and we wanted to have a television show, but my dad told me to grow up."

"Well, that's a nice name."

"Why do you talk funny?" Steve stared at Jimmy as the old memories passed through is head.

"When my wife and I were robbed, I tried stopping them and they knocked all my teeth out. When I realized what had happened, it was too late for my wife." Jimmy hesitated.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"She's dead." Jimmy's eyes widened.

"That's real unfortunate. I'm sorry, Steve." Silence filled the open fields.

"Shouldn't you be heading home?"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"My dad will probably shoot me in the side of the head...figuratively."

"That's not something you should joke about."

"Why can't I come where you're going?"

"Because that's not a place where little boys like you should be."

"Why? Will there be guns? Or bombs!"

"No." Steve pat the side of his horse and whispered in its ear. Jimmy had never seen someone talk to a horse and command it that way. But, the horse did what Steve must have wanted it to, because it began to move along the road.

"Where are you going?" Jimmy called out. Steve didn't answer, but instead left Jimmy alone in the middle of farming fields. It was getting dark, and as much as Jimmy tossed around the idea and the possible dangers,

Jimmy ran after Steve.


The walls were so off-white it was as if they let a bunch of second graders come in and put their dirty hands on them. The computers seemed too old to use, but that didn't bother me too much because my hands were too small for the keyboards anyway.

The lighting was dim and the lack of sunlight made me feel like it was raining outside. To add to that, it was extremely cold in the room. It was excessively cold outside to begin with, but now inside too? Forget rain, it was fucking Antarctica.

One of the things that I admired about the room was the lack of noise. I am one of those people who cannot stand it being too quiet, but this kind of silence was more tolerable. It was quiet enough to concentrate, but not too quiet where I felt alone.

As I glanced around another time I knew that this was the perfect place to write my great

American novel.


I hadn't heard much about him before. I had seen him once when my friend left her water bottle in his class, but that was about it. The only thing I had heard was from her and she said he was a little...out there.

As we piled into the room, he just stood in the front behind his computer. Music was faintly coming out from the medium sized laptop's speakers. From a distance, I only noticed that his clothes were dark and his hair was longer.

When the last bell rung, he stopped the music and began to stroll around the room. No one really spoke, so all you could hear was the heavy steps he took.

His voice was deeper than I expected, and the closer he got, the more I wanted to sink

into my seat.

As he got closer to me, I noticed that he had a cup of coffee in his hand, and that his shoes had heels on them. He probably needed the heels because the coffee caused him to stop growing. Or that's just how he was. I decided I would listen to my first idea about his height, so I could tell myself that he wasn't as scary as I assumed.