My Cardboard Balcony

No OneWord today because the site wasn't updated. We'll see about tomorrow, though!

Second update ahoy! As of November 15th, I have: - Written 28,500 words. This puts me past the halfway point for the 50,000 word goal. - Still not come up with a title. But hey, that happened last time I won NaNoWriMo, too. - Started to mentally outline the rest of the story and character motives. This novel will definitely go beyond the 50,000 word for NaNoWriMo. I will definitely fill you all in on the progress even after November 30th. Until next Saturday, my friends. Cheers, Belinda

Jeremy wanted to transform the entire place into a summer locale. He was already starting with the house. About two months after he bought the shack, I arrived to visit it and was greeted by a stunning beach house sight. From the Grecian pillars to the marble balconies, the place looked as if it belonged on an island, maybe even in another world. "She's a beauty, isn't she?" Jeremy said to me as he led me to the door. Even his clothes had become more stylish.

Got to see my sister perform in a play adaptation of Jane Austen's Persuasion. It's always really special to witness the talent of someone who happens to share my DNA. My sister is extremely good at what she does, and I very much envy her ability to truly become a different person onstage. She is, truly, an amazing actress. Sometimes, in the midst of my writing and my schoolwork, I really do miss acting. I sincerely hope that I will be able to commit to certain projects that will allow me to go back to my theater roots. I even had a great conversation with the director of my sister's play about writing drama fit for baby boomers to perform in, given their population. Heck, maybe I can create an LGBT-oriented drama or comedy with middle-aged characters. We'll see. For now, I do have to focus on my teaching credential and my writing. I'll put up another official update on NaNoWriMo tomorrow, and I have two large projects due for my teaching credential later this w...

Better Than Mead by Belinda Roddie Crisp, cool, and refreshing. Another pint of sheep's blood, please.

"Who said she was just sick?" roared Wendy. "She's delirious! She counts the cracks in the walls from her bed! She keeps talking about birds made of snow in the window! Either her fever is worse than the doctor measured, or she's gone completely out of her mind!" The yelling disturbed Sarah, who whimpered and hid behind my thigh.

Let's Go To Dublin by Belinda Roddie Let's go to Dublin, love. We'll take the train from our small village and watch the mist fall. I've got banjos and cider on the brain, and a craving for city life. We'll call it our second home, and the pubs will serve as our watering holes. The Liffey's high, and Stephen's Green is lush. We'll stop and swerve around the shops and taste tears from the sky on our tongues. I will sing, and you will dance. I'll play accordion, and you the flute. We'll drink enough to fall into a trance and doze off in each other's arms. We'll mute the world around us as we become steeped in Irish love, the Liffey half-asleep.