Weekly News

Well, first off, I want to let everybody know that I have a new blog!!!!
(yes, another one, thank you very much.)
So. Yeah. It's called "Under Inspection" and it's a YA book review blog!!!! :) Here's the we address: (www.underinspectionbookreviews.blogspot.com) and I will have the link posted in my blogs list soon!! Hope you visit! :)
So, in other news, I need your help, bloggers out there. Vote, then tell your friends. Have your friends tell your friends. Tell the WORLD!!
You see the poll over here, off to the side?
<------ (over here!)
Well, I need help deciding which novel idea is the one I should pursue now. I have a few here, along with another poll about topic ideas
(right there ----->)
over there, and I would seriously appreciate it if you all voted. It would really help me decide what I should write about next. Thank you!
Moving on... I'm a published author!! Okay, so I have been for a while now, but I'm just getting around to posting about it. (he, he...) I'm sure some of you have heard of teen ink (Kirthi... :) and I have articles posted on their website!! Actually, I have... um... I think 12... but maybe more. I kinda went crazy when I joined and went on a creative writing spree. But I do have a few favorites, so here are the links to those:
http://www.teenink.com/search.php?smodel=all&sall_uid=104848
so, there are a lot of articles on there, but if you value my sanity, please only read these 5:
-Single Tear, free verse
-Echoes, free verse
My Sunrise, free verse
-Guiding, Realistic Fiction
-and I was Looking, Realistic Fiction (posting on this blog!)
Legally, I can't prohibit you from viewing the others (I wish...) but if you do, pretend you never did. I don't like those, and they were much more crude and adolescent then some of my more advanced work. So don't think to harshly of me.
Oh, and also, The whole point of teen ink is to have other teens read your work, and that means that for the past few months, I have been reading other teen's work. So I have a few recommendations for you, if you have an extra minute to kill:
1. Never Stop, by Kirthi
2. Sparrow, by Pandafyre
3. Improvising, by Onjuli D
4. Do You Remember?, by Emily K.
When you go to the site, you will see a search bar to the right. Next to it should be a little sign that says "advanced search" Click on that and put in the information I gave you and search! (You don't need an account to view articles)I would really appreciate it if you would rate both my articles and my favorites. Thank you!
Finally, a little announcement! This is for Kirthi: I need to talk to you about something. Hey, would y'all be interested in a little... shall we say, competition? ;)

Canvas Cape

Sometimes
I just need to
pretend.
I could discuss with you
the great disasters
of our nation,
debate
on the issue
of the war,
but sometimes
I want to pretend
that I'm 6 again,
laugh a pretty colors in the winds,
scream at bugs when they crawl near,
romp around the living room
with a bed sheet tied to my neck
like a blank white canvas
waiting for me to decide what to write.

My canvas is half filled now.
Most people would tell me no,
assure me I still have time to live,
and I do, I guess...
But I feel like
my canvas
has the shadow
of the drawing
to fill it soon,
not really there,
but you can see it
just the same.

I Was Looking

I remember when you found me.
I was huddled in my only coat, thorns scraping my face every time I moved,
the blood mixing with the tears as they streamed down my skin.
"Who are you?" you asked. I looked up at you in surprise, the emotion of you discovering my hideout not quite enough to stop the tears. They continued to plop down on my legs. They bounced as they hit my shivering thighs, wobbling precociously until they finally slid off.
"Who are you?" you asked again, no hint of impatience coloring your voice. I couldn't talk. I looked away. Did you come to beat me too? Was I really that easy to see?
You grabbed my hand and pulled me up, supporting my weight with your arms alone. I was too skinny.
"How did you find me?" I croaked. It didn't make sense. I should have been invisible.
"I was looking."
So simple, so straightforward... it shocked me. How could you have seen me, when I blended so well with the dark, twisted branches of my prison? That's what my soul would look like. That's why I blended so well.
"I thought no one was supposed to find me!" I exclaimed.
"Maybe you needed to be found."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a story I posted on teen ink. I have other poems and stories posted, also, but this one really stuck out to me for some reason. If you want to view my other stories and such, go to http://www.teenink.com/search.php?smodel=all&sall_uid=104848. Thanks!!

Apolopgy, Shout Out, and Update

First of all, I have two things to apologize for. The first is a previous post of mine. The other is a future lapse in posting.

So, the first apology is for a post of mine, as mentioned. My poem, "Deeper" might be offensive to some of you followers. I wrote this poem in a moment of passion, and posted it onto my blog in another moment of passion. I was feeling particularly strong about lyrical poems (that's my style; I write in free verse, as many of you know) and was felling angry about people who write shallow, rhymey-cute poems that don't have any depth. I wasn't really thinking about those people who write in structured style. So I apologize to all of you who write your poems in rhyme. Many, many of the world's greatest poems are structured. I did not mean to imply that rhyming poems are bad poems. There are many amazing poems that are rhyming (go Rose!) I realize now that my post was offensive, and I'm sorry. I was talking about a very small minority, and no one I know is included in this poem whatsoever. (except maybe the ones who write deeper. ;)

My second apology is for a future lack of posting. Right now, I am very absorbed in a site called Teen Ink, and most of my writing efforts are going into writing for that. I have decided to write for teen ink first, then post my favorite pieces on this blog. Also, I am at the beach right now, so I won't have much time to write due to all the swimming, biking, eating, sleeping, and dunking. (Ha, ha) I promise I will post from time to time, but only once I have some really good stuff to share with y'all. :)

Okay, so, next order of business: SHOUT OUT!
This shout out is to Kirthi Rao, my good friend and AMAZING writer. She helped me really get my blog going, and has once again contributed greatly to my blog. She made me a blog button! It is the best darn blog button EVER, and I am SO EXCITED for people to see it and hopefully put it on their blog. Thanks so much Kirthi! You are the BEST. :)

And the last order of business. An update for all those family members and friends who follow all of my blogs: My blog, Branches, has been temporarily unavailable for everyone who had the link. I didn't understand why even I couldn't get to my blog, until I realized I had changed the address! Silly me! The original title of the blog was My World, but I didn't like that anymore, so I changed it. Then I wanted to change the URL, because it still incorporated the old title. I have changed it on the link list to the left of this blog, and it will be changed on My Life, but for those of you who want to bookmark it immediately, here it is:
www.branchesenvironmental.blogspot.com

Thanks for all the patience, and thank you for following this blog!

Deeper

You can rhyme,
those people,
pretending your a writer.

You say you mean it,
you say that it's all true,
that your writing from your soul.

You can't be.

Writing isn't rhyming,
it isn't the length,
or the words.

It's the feeling,
buried beneath the surface,
the stuff that really matters.

Because rhyming?
That's not writing.
Writing's more.

Deeper.

Fear

Fear was something I could never get used too.
In all my years, the few I have had and the many yet to come, I will never get over fear. One of the most terrifying and creative emotions humans experience. Because, honestly, isn't every fear the fear of fear itself? Monsters, fires, the darkness... they're all just personifications of fear. They all pose some sort of threat, of course, but that's not really why we're scared. We're scared of being scared. Of not knowing, of not being safe... really, that's all fear is. Fear is not knowing. And not knowing scares people most of all.
It was so thrilling, this fear. So complex, so intricate, I doubt I could decipher all it's hidden meanings and implications before the terror changed its course. Because it would change. It's the law of all fear. When something scares you, it must run its course and then morph into a new fear. It just doesn't go away. Always some worry, some fear in the back of your mind that's inescapable. Never will it fade like smoke curling in the night air, like dust scattered in the wind. It just crops back up again, over and over, in different forms, like a whack-a-mole.
So scared...

Summer Night

The first thing I see is the sky.
It's made of a rich blue, deeper than any daytime sky. The center is a beautiful cobalt blue, while the edge takes on a paler hue. It's the brightest thing outside, especially against the trees. The trees are dark, darker than they ever had been. They contrast against the sky to form a gorgeous snapshot. It's picture perfect, like any night should be.
But slowly, I register my surroundings on the lower level. The grass is nice and thick, and curves softly around the thick trunks of the trees. Everything is slightly darker, has just a little less color, as if it was sucked from nature and sent straight to the heavens. Fireflies danced through the air, flashing at random intervals, never in sync, always just a little apart from each other. The air rested thick and sweet in front of me, positively humming with the slow, carefree feelings of summer.
It was as every summer night should be.

Hear the Music

It throbbed through the speakers, yet I could not hear.
It pulsed through my veins, but it made no sound.
It blasted out to the crowd, but silence was all I heard.
How could I hear the music?

Music is something that does not require physical being to experience. Music is the kind of thing that can take on millions of different forms and still be the same. In its very essence, music is the fantasy, not the reality. It expresses every feeling, every emotion, in no words at all. It's the tune, not the words. The melody, not the song. It's who we are, it's what we'll be, it's everything in life that we want. When words can't describe it, music will.
Some people use music to escape. When the world gets to be too much, music can provide that perfect antidote to the pain and sorrow. When life is rough, music smooths the surface and penetrates the deepest, most hard-rooted emotions to help us. When we are sick, the music heals us in ways medicine can not. It's everything...

Even if you can't hear the music.

Fly Away

Oh, how I wished I could fly.
I was sitting on the end of a salt-stained pier, my legs dangling above the choppy waters. Voices swirled around me, but I tuned them out. I was concentrating on the sea and the sky.
When I sit here like this, below a brilliant sun, my thoughts always turn to the sky. I'm haunted by dreams of soaring through the clouds, chased by imaginings of flying in the sky. Aren't we all? I believe that a little part of us always yearns for the freedom of the clouds. Nothing could ever compare to that impossible elation of flight. It's the ultimate dream.
Content to just dream, as always, I fell back on the pier and stared up at the sky. My eyes felt heavy, though, so I looked away. The sun was so bright...
Suddenly, I was standing on the other end of the pier. I was all alone, the continuous babble of voices fading into the distance. I stood so still for a moment, unsure of whether I should act on my impulse or not. Finally, the urge was too strong, and I ran.
I sprinted down that pier, racing faster than I ever had before. I reached the end after only a minute, the water growing larger every second. Before I could dwell on my impending fall, I tumbled off the end of the pier.
But I wasn't soaking wet, like I should be... I wasn't even damp. I was airborne, the breeze rushing past my skin in a delightfully appealing way.
I sat suspended in the sky, waiting for an unknown signal so I could fly. I was just thinking how much I wanted to ascend when I started to climb. Air whistled past my ears as I flew higher and higher, leaving the sodden pier and the churning ocean behind. I tentatively thought of stopping and my body obeyed, hanging once more in the clear sky.
Oh, how much scarier it was so high up! I felt as though I could plummet to Earth any second. The only thing keeping me from a full-blown panic attack was the sapphire sea below. I would not splat; I would just drop.
I thought of falling back down to the pier, so, naturally, I started to descend. But it wasn't as though I was falling; it was more like sinking slowly, like a feather.
I laughed to myself delightedly. I didn't need to worry about falling! I was perfectly safe up here in the sky. I would only fall if it was my most desperate desire. Otherwise, I would simply sink gracefully back to Earth... and reality. What was I doing waiting up here! The full reality had hit when I realized I was fine.
I could fly.
I soared and swooped, dove and rose again, laughing the entire time. It was so amazing up in the clouds! The wind pelted you, but it did not sting. It hugged you, folded around you like impenetrable armor. The sun was so bright and hot, and it flooded my body with warmth high up in the sky. The clouds were a nice antidote to the heat when it got to unbearable, the cooling crystals clinging to my fevered skin. The birds played with me too. They would flap their wings and circle me, no longer irksome, pesky creatures but playful friends in the sky.
Flying was better than I could ever have imagined. It was everything I dreamed it would be and more. If I could, I would spend my entire life in the clouds.
Suddenly, I fell to Earth with a bang. I was lying on the pier again, the sun unpleasantly hot on my face once more. The voices and laughter sounded again, the silence breaking like shattered glass. I sighed and sat up, understanding it was just a dream.
But something had changed when I "flew" in the sky. I could see it clearer now than ever before, the life I desperately wished for and the life I could never have.
Something bright caught my eye, despite the tears dewing in the corners of my eyes. It was a bright dash of color, sparkling and dancing in the sky.
My imagination continued to soar above me, swooping and tracing bright patterns in the crystal-colored sky.

Will to Live

I was almost gone.
Somehow, against all odds, I was in one of those insane depressions I swore I would never fall into. When my parents passed, I vowed to myself that I would never forget all the amazing things that came with life on Earth. But as the days passed by, I found myself losing my hold. With the hard life I now lived, pain was a constant reminder of the hardships I had and will suffer. It was unbelievably hard to hold onto the joy when all I could feel was pain. When I tried to remember why I wanted to live, I couldn't come remember those reasons.
I stood on the sidewalk on a high bridge. Below me, steely gray water churned, probably colder than the air itself. I knew that I would have to jump soon, no matter what. I felt disconnected from my entire body. I could only vaugely make out the shapes and voices of the people around me. All I could concentrate on was my thoughts.
On one hand, I wanted to jump. To escape the pain, to run from the suffering. But the rational part of my brain screamed at me to pull away. It felt as though every part of my body urged me forward so I could fall, fall away from everything, but that tiny part of my mind prevented it. I realized with a panicky jolt that I needed to convince myself to stay alive or I would have no choice.
I desperately began to think of the most important things in life, the things worth living for. I conjured up images of my friends laughing with me, of a family celebrating at Christmas time. I remembered experiences like swimming, singing, writing... firsts like my first award and my first boyfriend. Still, it wasn't enough. I could feel myself thawing, but I needed more.
The images came faster now, in bursts of desperate speed. The tumbling sapphire waves in an ocean, a silky green meadow, fresh dark earth. Brilliant sunshine filtering through leafy branches, rich, luxurious foods, rosy flowers with sweet perfumes. Furry creatures racing through a forest, a majestic Irish castle, colorful fabrics woven from the finest threads, a cute young couple, lost in each others eyes. Countless pictures, countless memories, but none of it was enough.
Finally, one image came to mind when no more would come to the surface. I prayed it would be enough.
It was my loving family, before we were torn apart.
Stinging tears came to my eyes when I looked at that picture in my head. My parents were dead and gone, but I knew their spirit would be with me forever. Is this how they would want me to go? Too cowardly and puny to live through the day, always reliving their painful deaths? They would want me to live here, happy, their souls and hearts part of me forever. "Always remembered, never forgotten," it had read on their tombstones. I had misinterpreted that, thinking I should forever live in the shadow of the pain. What I never realized is that I should flourish in the light of their joyful memories. "Always remembered, never forgotten..."
I had forgotten. I needed to remember.
Remember...
I stepped back from that perilous ledge, refusing to stand on that brink any longer. The world had transformed, the items taking on a new, bright sheen. I knew now that I would never see the world through those dull eyes again.
I had found my will to live.


Note: THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY. It was sparked from a discussion, and I came up with this story as a hope story. It is completely fictional!!

My Blog Is Carbon Neutral!

This is officially a Carbon-Neutral blog! Click on the button, and you can get one too! If you get one and post about your new button then send the link for your post, the people will plant a tree for you! It's totally worth doing. :)

Cancer

This is a poem I wrote one day when I was feeling particularly angry towards cancer. I was inspired to write this from my anger. My friend was going through a close experience with cancer, and my heart went out to her. I also have had close contact with cancer, so her pain hit home with me. I hope you'll read it. I think sometimes something so hard to hear must be heard.

CANCER

Creeping,

Crawling,

Spreading.


It roots itself

a tiny cell

that turns into

a million.


In the hospital

treated by chemo

it doesn't go away.


It stays there

killing you

slowly.


And soon

its too much.


your body can't-

won't-

"just survive."


something

anything

help.

Welcome

Hey, my name is Marianne and you might already know who I am. I have two blogs already (My Life and My World) but it didn't seem to be enough. My friends Rose Cunnimgham (Sincerely from, Rose Cunningham) and Kirthi Rao (Pages, Dreamer) both have literature blogs, and I had been toying with the idea of getting one myself. Finally, I decided to make one.

The name for this blog has a very simple meaning. When I write, I draw inspiration from anything and everything around me. It could be the setting sun, shot through with brilliant colors, or the radiant beauty of my family. It could honestly be anything. But there is one thing that I write about almost constantly, that I draw incredible inspiration from: the stars. I love this... quote, almost, that I made up: No matter what happens, I'll always have the stars. ***