Next Project!
Heyo! So I have a NEW Survery! YAY! I would love if you guys took it to help me choose!
So I want your opinion on whether I should make Enchantress or Lost my next project because I have BIGGER plans for both. If I do Enchantress, I will most likely not post teasers until I find an agent because, I am going to try to get Enchantress published by a bigger publisher such as Harper Collins or something. Which I am opened to ideas on companies and advice.
Also! My book is doing pretty darn good! I've sold like 15 copies so!
So the survey is on my blog, I will be posting the link on Facebook and such tomorrow though. The link to the blog post is: https://victoriabowman.weebly.com/home/next-project
Have a nice week!!!
Happy birthday to my beloved sis!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SIS! I'm so happy for all your achievements this year! Congrats on reach 100 followers on the website! Thank you for being my sister as you inspire me every day to makeme motivated no matter how down I feel.
You truly are the best. @snivyth3
“Hope your special day brings you all that your heart desires!
I’ve known about your existence since forever.
You never remembered that I existed.
But it was fine because I didn’t care. We never talked, and we didn’t need to.
Until we talked.
It clicked, you know? So many similarities fit into us, and conversation flowing smoother than water through your fingers.
The heartburn started. And then the tiredness but the boost of energy, the lack of my usual negativity.
I let you in, whereas it has taken others years to get to where you are in my heart now.
The fact that you’ve taught me what love is again and asked me to believe in soulmates.
And you got hurt today. I was so worried, much more concerned than I should have been.
I realized.
It took me five days to fall in love with you. And you would never fall as fast as I did, not that you would ever choose me.
And now I’m left grasping at straws, little pieces of conversation, a desperate attempt to keep you and know more about you but.
Your heart belongs to another, while you unknowingly took my heart with you. I think I was always meant to be yours, but you weren’t destined to be mine.
I lost my soulmate before we even had a chance to begin.
dear stranger (who isn’t, really)
Hey. It's been a while, hasn't it? I was at the bookstore today with a friend, and I was looking through the racks of books. The Chinese books, specifically, because I got hooked onto these. I found books by Middle. I bought one.
It's "never forget and you'll never know". I wonder if you've read the thing? I hope you did. It's a good one. You should read it.
I finished the book. And so this email will probably be sent out to you for once, even as I'm a coward.
I understand it, you know. I don't love you anymore, but you also know that. I make excuses for you, and I take it. God that makes me sound selfish, doesn't it? That I sound like I'm complaining about you. But I'm not. Genuinely not. I'm just... telling. Putting words that spring from my head onto a computer screen and hope it doesn't sound like too much of a mess.
I used to love you. And I'm still obsessed with the idea of you. (Maybe I'll have my peace after finishing this.) But we both know what we are. And I hate that I still hear your voice at night, and I remember every single detail of you that you let me have. I hate it. So, so much. I've changed, and you've changed. We've grown, haven't we? Well, I have. Perhaps you haven't, but then who am I to know?
If I'm being honest today. And that I won't acknowledge the existence of this ever again, and that you might not even read this. But still.
I'm jealous. And so full of the loud and obnoxious, that I'm quiet. I just wanted to ask. What about Bethany, what about Janice, what about Tiffany, Juliet, all the people we know, and you've mentioned to me, and been upset that they didn't reply to you, what about all of them that are better than me? I'm sorry; I know it sounds horrible. And that's what I am, boiled down to the core, aren't I? A ball of competitiveness and jealousy, and that I keep people away because of how much damage I do. Even if nobody is subjected to the searing heat but myself.
But on a more serious note. Why am I consistently inferior? I've tried, so hard. Even if you don't know about it. And you don't want to. I fought for you. But we won't talk of that.
Why do I keep losing? You've hung on to them, even if they've straight-forwardly told you to stop contacting them, that they found you irritating, or just ignored your messages. I've never done that. I've always missed you, texted you, listened, talked you out. Did you pretend that I mattered? That our friendship mattered? Because you've.
Shit. I fell for your trap, intentional or not.
But it's fine. I'll admit that you've won our little mind game. Will you take your ghost and leave nothing behind if I do? Because I prefer an empty head to the alternative. Echoes of you bouncing off the pages of my books.
I know it could be awkward for you even after I confessed my feelings, and it was okay. But I told you, more than once, nothing had to change. Nothing would change.
(And you know. You still owe me an explanation? I deserve one. Perhaps you don't agree, but I need one. And I know now that I deserve one. But it's okay if you don't give me that; I sought my own closure through this email. )
Yet you disappeared without a trace. And you changed your number.
You said your mother had you block me, but I didn't receive an explanation until I asked. Or a reason. Just radio silence. And you say I'm still your sister, still your friend but Fuck! Friends don't break each other's hearts.
(okay. so maybe I lied. nobody can still be friends after getting their heart broken. but I wish you'd indulged me in the little flakes of peace we had left.)
I can't put you down, but I could start to resent you. I don't want that. And I used to have to put up a facade, day after day, but isn't it funny? I don't have to do that anymore. We've gotten to a place where you don't even answer my messages on the group chat anymore. Strangers with memories. Or perhaps one keeping them, and the other simply leaving them behind. Moving on.
I'm leaving the group chat, so that you know. Just so... you have a warning. Just so. Even if I don't think you care.
Sometimes I think what if you had actually returned my affections. But then the image stops, because I've never seen you truly care. Not once, Miles Chan. However much you think you did.
But it's getting late now. And I should stop, even if I don't sleep anymore, but you know that, I think. If you haven't forgotten who I was.
I'm just another girl who once cared from the sidelines.
Hazel Forsen
(p.s. If you ever read this mail, Chan. Don't bother replying, you don't need to. And shouldn't feel the need to, so let it go.)
(p.p.s. - I'm not apologizing, but this is the closest thing I will give to it. And I hope this email doesn't seem overly aggressive, although I know it probably will be. My intentions were to just let you know and to let the flames from the battlefield die. Don't feel bad, but honestly? Feel free to hate me. I'd deserve it after the send button is pressed.)
Drained Energy
When my friends were focussing on building their career, I waited for them with love, support and warmth.
But this version of the story will not be accepted by anyone so I sit here narrating the stupidity of my life and I know my future self will regret committing this sin of love.
×∞ Adin
15 February 2021
A Collision of Worlds
When I nodded off, pillows at my back, laptop propped on my knees and browsing BNHA fanart, the last thing I expected was to wake up with a stranger sitting at the foot of my bed. Dad worked nights, and the shape was much too masculine to be my mother or sister. At 12:34 AM there weren’t many possibilities that didn’t involve me being robbed, hurt, murdered or all of the above. The man was shrouded in darkness as he turned his head to look at me. I dared not scream. What if my mom or sister came running in and he hurt them too? No. This man I’d have to face alone.
Reluctantly, I reached over to my nightstand and clicked on a lamp. The cast caught the man’s features just right for me to see. I let a sigh of relief. It was only Hitler. I must’ve been dreaming.
Lucid dreams don’t typically run in my family, least of all with me. I’m usually a slave to the midnight machinations of my mind. So this was...definitely new.
“Hayyy,” I mumbled awkwardly. “Wattup, dawg?”
“How dare you call me a dog!” he barked, his accent heavy. “Is that how you address your Fuhrer?”
“Relax, dude. It’s just an expression. What, uh...what are you doing here? You realize you’re in the bedroom of a fifteen-year-old girl at midnight. It’s kinda’ weird. I’d kinda’ like an explanation for that, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“I’m as confused as you are. I’ve heard our dimension occasionally collides with yours, leaving us partially perceivable to the living. But it’s never happened to me before. This is amazing! I have finally found a means to communicate with your kind. The intersections are said to commonly last five, ten minutes. I...I have so many questions. I can’t waste time with this—young as you are, you’ll have to do!”
“This is a weird dream,” I mumbled. “Okay, Hannah, you can wake up any time now.”
“What is my legacy?” he asked, a nervousness in his eyes. “It almost pains me to know. History is never kind to those who lose. But I suppose ignorance would be twice the torture. I’ve marinaded in it for years.”
“Well. They made a few movies about you. Like, films, picture shows.”
“Dare I ask?”
“I didn’t watch it, but there’s this one American film from the ’40s, The Devil With Hitler. Cinema Snob reviewed it, pretty much play-by-play. They took a few creative liberties.”
“How creative?”
“You got shot in the butt with a missile and died.”
“Well, I’m glad they kept it dignified.”
“Pretty sure this was before your actual...yanno’. So maybe they were just hoping,” I shrugged. “Another one was called They Saved Hitler’s Brain. Didn’t watch it. Watched the Snob review. It looked...fairly terrible.”
“Did I get any good films?”
“Well, Tarantino made a good one in that it’s well made. But it still hates your guts.”
“Let me guess. Another missile?”
“Nah. You’re just machine-gunned to pulp and your bullet-ridden corpse gets blown up afterward.”
“Glad he had mercy.”
“But a lot of people die in that movie. It’s not just exclusive to you. Mercy in a Tarantino movie is like a needle in a haystack.”
“I see,” he glanced around at the sketches hung on my wall. “You are an artist?”
“Unofficially. I’m terrified to commit. Those art snobs can be vicious.”
“They know nothing!” he exploded (metaphorically, unlike in the Tarantino movie). “You could vomit on a canvas and they’d call it fine art. I applied for the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna twice and they rejected me on both counts. My art had promise. Even as a foolish child I knew that. But they...they couldn’t see. I needed a hand up, and they smacked mine away.”
“Things would’ve been a lot better if you became an artist. That’s for sure.”
“Is that what passes for art nowadays?” he looked at the laptop screen, where I was now scrolling through images for kawaii.
“Pretty much. It ain’t bad.”
“Ain’t bad? These supposed people don’t even look like people. The proportion is all off. The eyes take up half the head. Like a terrifying beast pulled from the depths of a nightmare.”
“Oh, that’s just anime. They’re not meant to look realistic. That’s the design.”
“The beast, it stares into my soul...” he shuddered.
“Huh. Maybe I’m just desensitized.”
“What are you eating with?” his eyes found the salad on my nightstand, and the curious utensil resting up top.
“Oh, this? It’s only the greatest invention ever conceived by man. It’s called a spork.” I grabbed it and brandished it enthusiastically.
“Someone combined...a spoon and a fork? Do you Americans not consider this an abomination? You’re crossbreeding utensils!”
“Nah. We think it’s cool. Some think it’s pretty useless; but you have naysayers with everything.”
“Get it out of my sight,” he growled, receding into the corner with a strange hiss.
I pulled the nightstand drawer open, paused for dramatic effect, and dropped it in.
“The spork was invented by Germany,” I muttered under my breath.
“WHAT?!”
“Just kidding.”
“What is that!”
“Oh, sorry. Clicked the wrong link. We didn’t need to see that. DeviantArt has a lot of...deviancy.”
“Degenerate swine.” He pressed further into the corner. More strange hissing.
“I wouldn’t take it that far. Though that was pretty gross. Gotta’ be careful when browsing the interwebs.” I paused to think. “Hey I got a paper coming up. You think you could help me out? Though, I suppose it would be in poor taste to cheat like that...so...nevermind.”
“Indeed. If you rely on being given the answers to everything you become soft in the mind, and turn into a malleable imbecile.” He hesitated. “But...we’re losing focus. What became of Germany?”
“Well, they lost, as you probably figured. They’re still around though. It’s no horrible dystopia over there, to my knowledge.”
“But Germany...doesn’t rule the world?”
“No.”
“Not even Europe?”
“Nope.”
“And my birthday isn’t celebrated as an international holiday?”
“It’s 4-20, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then yesss. But don’t ask what for. It ain’t you.”
“Hannah, is everything alright in there?” I heard a voice outside my door.
“Yeah, it’s all good,” I called back. The footsteps slowly disappeared.
“Is that your mother?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. The voice was just familiar. For a moment it almost reminded me of my own mother. She died when I was just a few years older than you. Never was my sadness more unbearable than the day of her passing.”
“I’m sorry. I guess that was part of the reason you banked so much on art school. My mom and I are really close. I can’t imagine missing that acceptance in my life, looking for it somewhere else just to get shot down at every corner. I wish someone had been a little nicer to you back then. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to try so hard.”
He slouched in defeat. “You are wise for someone of your age. Were you alive in my time, you would’ve set a good precedent to follow. A balance of knowledge and emotional maturity. It’s admirable—” A current of static rippled over him, and his already-transparent body began to fade. “The dimensions are starting to diverge again. I won’t be able to stay here much longer. I may have another minute at most...”
“Okay,” I said. “But there’s one thing you should probably know before you leave. Two things, really.”
“What?”
I shut my laptop, and gently planted a finger above my name, first and last. My parents had gotten it personalized for me for my birthday.
His expression changed a bit when he read it.
“That’s you?”
I nodded.
“You’re...you have to be joking.”
“And I’m autistic. Aspergers. So in your book I’d be owe for two.”
For a long time, it appeared he’d lost the ability to speak. I didn’t intend it as revenge; rather to show him the people he so vehemently hated were still just that. People.
He vanished before he could get any sound out, but his expression was quite memorable.
Nothing more to do, I reached over to my nightstand, got my salad, and continued eating with my spork.
*****
And just like that, I woke up. Totally called that one. I’m sure my therapist will love when I tell her Hitler made a cameo in my latest dream. First Epstein and now this.
#fiction, #strictlyfiction, #donttrythisathome
I, Voidkin, am a G.I.R.L
Well, the title gives this away. Yes, I am female lol. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, I just...well, I wasn’t ready. You guys always called me “He” And I kept on thinking “Should I tell them???” But I just didn’t feel ready to expose that at the moment. It’s not your fault, I never corrected any of you. And honestly, I enjoyed it when you guys thought I was a boy XD. But, my little Secrets out. That makes me ValiantRaptor47′s younger sister. Just...Don’t let it change how you see me, ok? Whether you think of me as a psycho, or an acquaintance, just don’t let that change.
I know it was my profile picture that threw you guys off. I just liked it, I never thought it would define my gender for me lol. But if you noticed, I never said “He” or “she” when I talked about past dates. My brother ValiantRaptor47 also never referred to me as “He” or “she” just as a simple “they” or “sibling”.
Again, I’m sorry I never told any of you before. I just didn’t feel ready to correct any of you, considering I never share my gender online, For safety reasons. But we have known each other for a while now, so why should I still be lying about it? I trust you guys.
But overall yup, I am a girl.
I don’t know why that was so hard to say....