#continuing my journey of seeing how teeny I can draw these characters

[androcola]

Shopping trip

m&m headcanon fic, with help from @starrechords .

Mike and Micky go to the grocery store.

Trigger warnings: food mention

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The sky hung blue over the busy city. The sun had just risen not too long ago but the city was still as loud and as busy as ever. It was all the same. A blue bird atop a telephone pole watched as a green car pulled into the parking lot before flying away into the blue. The green VW bug pulled in and parked along side the other parked vehicles in front of the grocery store. Micky had been sitting on a paycheck for a while, a few, actually. Whatever wasn't unnecessarily spent on thrift store items was put towards much more important things, and today it was groceries.

"Here we are, pal!" Micky chirped as he clicked free from his seatbelt. "You've got the list, right, Mike?" He asked, peeping his buddy in the rearview mirror. "Eh- I think so.." Mike replied as he stuck his hands into each of his pockets. He felt a little flash of panic when he felt nothing in there. "I've.. got it here somewhere.." he muttered as he then felt in the pockets of his jean jacket. Still, he felt nothing. "It's here.. it's here somewhere.. I promise.." he said as he even checked the pockets on his shirt. Micky couldn't help but laugh just a bit. "Maybe we accidentally left it back at the apartment?" He asked. "No, no!.. I swear I've got it!.." Mike said as he panicked, removing his wool hat. Sure enough, the grocery list fell right from his head and he couldn't help but feel a little silly as Micky erupted into laughter.

"You're somethin' else, man!" He laughed as he pushed the car door open. "C'mon! Let's go." He said, stepping out and closing the door firmly. Mike sighed with embarrassment and put his hat back on his head and slipped out of the car, closing the door behind him. He fast walked to Micky's side and grabbed onto his arm, clinging to him. Micky didn't mind, it was pretty normal by this time. "Why'd you put it under your hat?" Asked Micky. "So I wouldn't forget." Mike replied. Again, Micky laughed a bit. "I guess it didn't work that well, though.." Mike said. "Oh, it's alright, man. I thought it was kinda funny myself, to be honest." Micky chuckled. "But maybe next time I should stick a note to your chest." He continued. "What will it say?.." Mike asked. "Check under your hat." Micky replied. "Oh." Said Mike. They walked to the buggie rack and Micky grabbed the handle of the cart and pulled it out. Mike jumped as the other carts clanged and clattered as they rolled into place.

The two stepped into the store and Mike looked around nervously. There were way more people than he cared to be around. What did he expect? They set off towards the aisles to collect their groceries. "Would you like to read the list as we go?" Micky asked. "Sure.. I guess." Mike replied. "Groovy! Thanks, pal." Micky said with a smile. "So what's first, oh reader of lists?" He asked. Mike looked down and unfolded the list, squinting at Micky's tiny and slightly sloppy handwriting. "Eggs, my lord." Mike replied. "Ah-! Then let us make haste, my friend! To eggs!" Micky shouted, as if he were a mighty warrior on a perilous journey from which he may not return.

"Great." Mike said, following close to Micky, wrapped firmly around his arm for security. Such mundane tasks were always made ridiculous or fun in the company of Micky Dolenz. To make the acquaintance of this hyper little teeny bopper was to make the acquaintance of chaos itself. Mike still questioned every now and then how he managed to befriend such a strange kid.

"Hey Mike?" Asked Micky. "Hm?" Said Mike. "You ever have this strange fear that one day you'll open an egg carton and see a baby chicken breaking out?" He asked. Mike's mind froze for a moment, he was dumbfounded. What kind of question was that? He pondered on that question for a moment before formulating a response. "No. Not really." He replied. "Really? But what if it happened?" Micky continued. "Well.. the eggs they sell at the market aren't fertile. So there ain't any babies inside." He replied. "But I thought-... well. How are infertile eggs made like that?" Micky questioned. "Well.. hens lay eggs whether there's a rooster or not... Some people get just hens so they can have the eggs. My aunt did it." Mike replied. Micky nodded. "I see.." he said.

"Aha!" Micky shouted suddenly upon spying a case of eggs on a shelf, startling Mike, making him jump slightly. "Eggs!" Micky said triumphantly. He made for the shelf and grabbed the case of eggs, setting it gently into the basket. "Alright! That's one down!" He said with much excitement. "What's next, pal?" He asked. Mike pulled the list up again and looked at it for a moment. "Bread." He replied. "Then let us proceed onward! To the bread aisle!" Micky said, pointing his finger forward as they turned toward the other aisle. Mike looked around nervously as they carried on. The grocery store here was much nicer than the ones he had been to when he was younger. The produce appeared fresh and there were no hungry flies hovering above it, the lights were bright and all of them seemed to be working, the floor tiles weren't cracked nor stained. It was almost kinda nice. He shot his gaze downward, however, after accidentally making eye contact with a stranger. How embarrassing.

They arrived in the bread aisle and stopped to have a look around. Certain aisles always had a distinct smell. The bread aisle smelled faintly of bread but also plastic-y almost. It was never an unpleasant smell, though. "Hey Mike!" Micky called. Mike turned his head to see Micky holding two different bags of bread. "Which one should I get? This one?" He asked, lifting a yellow bag of bread upwards in one hand. "Or this one?" He continued, lifting a blue bag up in the other hand. Mike cocked a brow. Why would it matter? They're both bread. Mike merely stared at Micky with an almost confused look on his face. "Hm. You're right." Micky said suddenly as if Mike had replied. "I'll go with this one! I trust him." Micky said as he set the blue bag of bread back on the shelf and set the yellow bag into the basket.

Mike pulled in close to Micky suddenly as someone pushed past him with a grocery cart and down the aisle. They didn't even say excuse me. Is everyone in LA this rude? "What's next on the list?" Micky asked as they walked down and out of the aisle. Mike opened the list once more and looked down at it. "Uh.. milk." He said. "Groovy! To the fridge section!" He shouted. The two turned and set off toward the fridge section for a jug of milk. The two kept their look out for the fridge section, before suddenly, "Hark!" Called Micky. "Look, my friend! Over yonder aisle! The fridge section!" He said as he sped up just slightly. Mike looked ahead and sure enough they were nearing the fridge section.

They approached the large fridges and Mike could feel the coolness coming off of them. There were jugs of regular milk, chocolate milk, skim milk and even butter milk! Yuck. Micky grabbed the handle and pulled the fridge open. He picked up a carton and read the writing on it, his eyebrows drawing together. “Hey buddy? Do you know how they get milk from almonds?” Mike blinked. “Uh. Well, I think they just... crush up almonds really well.” As he spoke he moved his hands as if he was crushing imaginary almonds with his fists. Micky pouted a bit. “I don’t know if I’d call that milk. Maybe… almond liquid.” He said. Mike grimaced at that phrase as Micky set the carton back where he got it and picked up one with cow’s milk, putting it in the cart.

“What’s next, my good buddy?” Micky asked as he took back his place at the head of the shopping cart. Mike pulled up the list — which he had not let out of his grasp since it had fallen out of his hat, so the paper was now wrinkled and the ink had began to run — and tried to decipher what Micky wrote on it. “Uh… cereal,” he said, sounding out each letter as he read it to make sure it fit right.

“Oh, MAN! I would’ve forgotten that if it wasn’t for the list! Good thing you’ve got that hat, I’ve really been craving some corn flakes recently.” Micky, in all his excitement, pushed off towards the direction of the cereal aisle. He put his right leg up on the bottom of the cart, and pushed himself even faster using his left. Mike, struggling to keep up with him and almost tripping over his own feet, reached out and wrapped his fingers around the handle, grasping it so hard his knuckles turned white. This made the cart pull to the left and almost threw the two of them right into the set-up of juice. Luckily, Micky hopped off the cart and planted his feet down, stopping them right in time.

Mike took a sharp inhale. “I-! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-“ he was cut off when Micky wrapped his arm around his shoulder and placed his free hand on his other shoulder, trying to ground his friend to help calm his nerves. “Hey, hey, man! It was my bad, don’t be sorry! If anything, I should apologize to you. If I ever do anything like that again you can do what my mom used to do and just grab me by my shirt collar, that usually slows me down a bit!" He assured Mike with a laugh. "And we needed orange juice anyway." He laughed once more. He walked over and grabbed a carton and put it in the cart.

Mike was still visibly shaken up. He took a slow, deep breath and gave a quick nod. “Here,” Micky said, picking up Mike’s hands and placing them on the cart. “Commander Dolenz is stepping down from his position as cart pusher and is passing it off to his second in command, Captain Nesmith!” He stood up as straight as a line and threw up his hand into a salute. Whenever he comes up with a new character he has to go all out with it, so as a finishing touch he threw on a goofy voice and added, “I’m counting on you, captain. Carry us to victory. I know you can do it.” Mike smiled a little but then looked down at his hands. He twisted them around the handle nervously and his expression tensed up.

"C’mon, Mike, what are you even worried about? You can push a shopping cart, can’t you? Can’t you do anything right? Just-" Micky saw the mental cogs turning in his friend’s head and decided he needed to step in. He wrapped his arm around Mike’s and dramatically threw his hand to his forehead. “Oh captain, my captain!” he exclaimed, once more in his mighty commander voice in an attempt to get him going. “You must lead us to the cereal aisle! The growling of my stomach depends on you!” Micky nudged Mike a little with his shoulder, just enough to get him to take the first step. Micky marched right alongside him, loudly humming “When Johnny Comes Marching Home” Mike put his head down slightly, feeling a little embarrassed.

"We're almost there, good buddy! Keep on truckin'!" He encouraged with great confidence. Mike already felt like he wanted to go home, he was already tired and he hadn't even been there long. He took a deep breath and lifted his head back up as he had realized that he wasn't really looking where he was going. He glanced over slightly to see Micky still confidently marching by his side. The kid could be a bit much sometimes, but he had to admit that he was glad that he wasn't alone. "How are we doing, captain? Everything shipshape on the S.S. Nesmith?" He asked. "Yea.. shipshape, sir.." Mike replied. "Groovy, baby!- ah- I mean.. aye-aye, captain!" He replied in a raspy pirates voice.

"Uhh-.. hark-.. sir. Uh.. land ho n' all that mess." Mike sputtered as they arrived to the cereal aisle. "Aha!" Shouted Micky, "Fine job, captain! You have singlehandedly lead us to cereal!" He said as he wrapped his arm around Mike. "You're a brave brave man. I shall see to it that you receive a metal for this!" He said as he pulled away. "Now let us find wheaties and corn flakes!" He finished. ".. Okay." Mike replied as he followed Micky in search of wheaties and corn flakes. "Keep your eyes peeled, captain." Micky said as he squinted. He continued. "They could be hiding anywh-" — "Found them." Mike interrupted. Micky looked over to see Mike holding a box of corn flakes. "Oh!" Said Micky. "Good eye, buddy!" He chirped. Mike set the box of corn flakes down into the basket and grabbed the wheaties, setting them down right beside the other.

"Which aisle do we plunder next, captain?" Micky asked. Mike pulled up the crinkled note once more. "Uh... snacks." Mike replied with a slight questioning inflection. It just said snacks. Nothing in specific. "Ah! The best leg of our journey!" Micky said. "Then let us go get snacks!" He declared as they continued through the aisle. As they went along, something came to Micky's mind. "Hey." Micky said, nudging Mike's arm slightly. "Hm?" Said Mike. "Did we remember to put puppy pads down for You? In case she needs to go while we're gone?" Micky asked. Mike was quiet for a moment, trying to recall if they had done that before they left. He could've sworn they did, but at the same time, he remembered nothing of the sort. "I don't know... I'm sorry" Mike finally replied.

"It's alright! We'll find out when we get back, right?" Micky chuckled. "I guess.." Mike replied. They trucked on and eventually into the snack aisle. They looked around at the shelves full of many different snacks. Chips, candies, cakes, trail mix, pretzels and more. Micky grabbed a bag of potato chips and dropped it into the cart. Mike waited quietly with his head down while Micky picked out various snacks. "Hey Mike?" Micky asked suddenly. Mike looked up at Micky and cocked a brow. "Yea?.." he replied. "Would you like a snack?" Micky asked him with a smile. Mike put his head back down.

"That's okay..." Mike replied bashfully. He didn't want Micky spending his money on him. "Aw, come on, buddy! I wanna get you somethin' for being such a great pal!" He insisted with a smile. Mike's face heated up slightly. He kept his head down. "You like pretzels, right? I remember you said you like pretzels once. Want some pretzels?" Micky questioned. "It's fine, man, really." Mike insisted back. Suddenly, two jumbo bags of pretzel sticks were dropped into the cart. "There ya go, buddy!" Micky said before loading in a few more snack items. Mike sighed. "Thanks a lot." He muttered. "What's next, pal?" Micky asked. Mike once again opened the crinkled note and was pleased to find that the list had been finished. "Nothing. The list is done." He replied.

"Really? That was quick!" Micky said. "Then let's go! Onward! To the check out aisle!" Micky shouted, grabbing the edge of the shopping cart and pulling it around. Mike let go and let Micky take it from there. He once again wrapped around Micky's arm and they carried on to the check out. Mike felt a bit of excitement rising within him just thinking of going home. He wanted a nap so bad. He followed Micky, wrapped tightly around his arm. The two approached the checkout and added themselves onto the shortest line. Mike stared at the cart looking over the items in it as Micky drummed along to a song on the handle.

“What’s the song?” Mike asked. Micky’s hands went still and he looked over to Mike, confused. “Huh?” Said Micky. “The uh- the song. You were drummin' it and puttin' on a whole show n' what not.” Micky threw back his head and laughed. “Oh! I didn’t even really realize I was doing that!" He said. "Man, I’ve had ‘Help!’ stuck in my head all day.” He continued. “‘Help!’? That song by The Beatles?”

“Yeah, man! Aw, it’s such a great song, and I’ve heard the movie’s fantastic! Much different from their last! We should go see it sometime soon!” Micky beamed. Mike merely nodded, “yeah” He said quietly, so much so it was barely audible. They got up to the conveyor belt and lifted their items and placed them down upon it. The counter lady looked up at the two boys. “Find everything alright today?” The counter lady asked as she scanned their items. Micky nodded profusely and grinned. “Oh yeah, it was all good and groovy here!" Micky said with a small laugh.

She smiled at him and punched in some numbers on the register. “Your total is $2.57.” She said. “Not a problem, my dear lady!” Micky said as he pulled out his wallet for the money. Mike stood by watched. He couldn’t help but feel guilty. He wanted to help pay for things, but if he could he probably wouldn’t have met Micky in the first place. Still, he couldn’t help feeling like dead weight. Even after the grocer finished putting the bags in their cart and they were making their way through the parking lot to the car, the thought of him just being a freeloader wrapped around his mind like a thick fog.

“Slug bug, green!” Micky shouted once spotting the car in the parking lot, as he does every time. He generously decided to cool it with the arm punches, however after the first time when he nearly knocked Mike out on the floor. Micky unlocked the trunk door and the two began placing the bags in the car. After they were done, Micky looked to Mike. “Wanna drive?” He asked, sticking his tongue out and twirling the keys around his finger.

Mike’s eyes went wide as he wracked his brain for the right response. “Uh. I— w-well—“ Mike stammered. Micky laughed a bit and closed the trunk of the car. “Aww, man, I’m just pullin' your leg." Micky laughed, "I’d say we could go for a practice drive to get you used to being behind a wheel but it’s a bit too crowded here. Maybe we could try in the church parking lot?” Micky asked. Mike did want to get his license. He had always had a thing for cars, especially fast ones. And if he had his license he could help out with chores, and maybe even get a job to help with rent money. But he could never in a million years picture himself driving Micky’s car.

Mike nodded quietly once more and Micky smiled. "Alright, what'dya say we put this cart away and get home?" Micky asked in a gentle tone. "Okay.." Mike said as they walked back to the entrance of the store, Micky pulling the unladen cart behind them. When they approached the buggie rack by the door, Micky swung the cart around and shoved it back into the rack. Again, the carts clattered, startling Mike a little. "Alright! That's done! Let's split!" Micky said. "Alright.. okay." Mike replied as they walked back to the bug. The two opened the doors and slipped in and Mike couldn't have felt more relieved. Micky put the keys into the car and turned it on and carefully backed out of the parking lot.

As they drove home, everything was quiet. Micky looked in the rearview mirror to see that Mike had his head turned, looking through the passenger side window. "Hey Mike?" Micky asked. "Hm?" Mike said. "Thanks for helpin' out today, man. I had lots of fun! ...You're real fun to shop with." Micky said with a smile. Mike turned his head down and fiddled his fingers for a moment, trying to think of a response. "Ah.. sure.." was all he could manage. "Would you like to help me put up the groceries?" Micky asked. Again, another short period of silence.

"Sure." Mike replied.

#the monkees #m&m headcanon #monkees headcanon #writing #:)) please read #tw food #food tw

[catflowerqueen]

Weaving Threads, Part One

Okay, that... took a lot longer than I thought it would, and I didn’t even really get to the part I was planning to get to. Hm... Ah, well, I can write the continuation for it later.

You can consider this a sort of “fix-it” for the Homestuck Epilogues, if you wish to do so, though that isn’t exactly my intention here. I actually enjoyed the epilogues, despite how sad and disheartening they were at some points, and consider this to be my way of allaying those feelings, if only a little, while simultaneously weaving them into a larger narrative I have been in the planning stages of for... I guess at least two years, at this point? Perhaps even longer. Maybe even since the Omegapause... which is a rather scary thought.

I can’t actually promise a swift continuation to this, as I have other obligations as well, both in my writing and my life in general, but I am hopeful that I will at least be able to get this small story done and out soon.

Oh, and if you’re confused by what’s going on and who’s POV this is, that’s intentional.

Feel free to leave questions in my inbox, though, again, no guarantees on swift responses.

         The clouds obscure the moon behind you as you alight silently upon the ground, still on your toes, before slowly settling your feet fully on the grass. You take a moment to appreciate the fact that your godtiered state allows for the use of your wings to be optional when it comes to flying, as it has enabled your journey here to be silent and your presence unnoticed. While you would normally be disappointed by the lack of the dramatic flair that swiftly pulling in your gorgeous wings as you landed would have afforded you, right now you are too busy relishing the air of mystery that surrounds you. Unlike some people you know, you actually have class and can enjoy the subtleties and challenge of remaining unnoticed and not receiving immediate credit for or acknowledgement of your actions.

           Especially when the payoff will include the eventual realization of the hand you had to play in events, and the slow, delicious, dawning horror that the people involved were completely at your mercy; you could have done so much more, so much worse, and there is not a single thing they could have done about it had you chosen that course of action.

           There are reasons people often fear you the most out of your little group, despite your general passivity.

           But you digress.

           After the customary moment of marveling the atmosphere, both the physical and the metaphorical, you creep quietly towards the camp your prey has made. You would be surprised at the young godlings’ foolishness in committing the classic mistake of falling so hard into revelry and smug assurances that their future plans are foolproof, despite the many, many, times their past plans had gone so pear-shaped by the end if not for the fact that you, unfortunately, are acquainted with their future selves and the circles of stupidity they don’t even try to pull themselves out of most of the time. Instead, they actively try to pull others into them. And those attempts end up succeeding a lot of the time, and then infecting those poor, unlucky, drawn-in souls with a propensity for creating stupidity circles of their own and then repeating the exact same thing over. And over. And over. And they already caught your “family” in it long before you were hatched, and mildly infected you as well. Unfortunately.

           But tonight, as you kneel down behind the young Seer and place your hand upon her forehead—careful not to wake her, or scratch her with your claws—you get the chance to actually give someone a little push to break those circles and form newer, better ones. But not ones that are any less stupid, seeing as you, to reiterate the point made above, about stupidity drawing others towards itself and then repeating ad infinitum, are currently smack dab in the middle of a stupidity parade at this very moment. And the fact that it is a stupidity parade is an immutable fact, that you are stating for the record. But, to your chagrin, it does not mean that actions necessary for the continuation of the alpha timeline are not taking place here. Also to your chagrin, you cannot deny that you are, at least a teeny bit, enjoying the thrill that comes with knowledge that you and your powers are the only ones who can set events onto their proper course, nor can you deny your enjoyment of the challenge that comes with doing so discreetly, with none the wiser until things come to their full fruition.

           You may not be a time player, but you love seeing time loops stabilize and fall into place while paradoxes resolve themselves. You consider these things one of the marks of a well-crafted narrative, at least for certain genres, and there is practically nothing you love more than well-crafted narratives.

           Even ones which would lead to your non-existence, you acknowledge, as you let your powers flow into the Seer’s mind, opening hers and allowing you to see the fragments of an offshoot timeline that you’ve now forced her to witness and then subconsciously analyze with her own powers. You watch as her face crumples and she whines a little in obvious emotional discomfort, and you lament that those timelines can never become alpha. Such despair… how seamlessly they fed into each other… how well they showed the subtleties and character of those involved… but, alas, it was never meant to be.

           As you remove first your hand from the sleeping Seer’s head, then yourself from her vicinity, and finally your feet from the ground, you ponder yet again over the recurring notion that your habit of mourning over the non-happenings of events and timelines which would result in your being Doomed and/or dead and/or non-existent all while acknowledging the fact that you do actually like being alive so that you can have the chance to mourn them is a large part of the reason that most people you are vaguely aware of consider you to be—pardon the vulgarity—completely shithive maggots.

           Well, that and the way that you can easily quantify most of your doomed selves’ “losses” as landslide victories for a multitude of reasons beyond their necessity to lose in order to preserve and further the alpha timeline, and that you can do it in such a way that no one ever perceives such quantifications as indicative of you being a sore loser. Which you really are not: you genuinely and truly believe that most, if not all, of those so-called “losses” were in reality victories, and you can use logic to prove exactly why you are correct in thinking so.

           But all that is beside the point. What was done tonight is done; with any luck, it will be enough to set things on their proper course. And as you alight once more upon the ground after having finally found your transportation once more and given her a pat on the head to get her to stop pretending to be asleep before retrieving a fish from your sylladex to give her incentive to to actually bring you back to the correct time and place you left, you can’t help but smile deviously in anticipation for when your actions and the reasoning behind them are finally revealed to everyone else. You look forward to leaving their frantic messages with no response, and their questions forever unanswered.

           …Or at least unanswered by you, since you are sure that your sister or “niece” or someone will eventually take pity on them and explain. Or get annoyed by their badgering and explain. It’s always a toss-up between the two when it comes to dealing with the consequences of your actions, really, since heaven knows you’re never going to deal with them.

 >Rose Lalonde: Wake up

#homestuck #fanfiction #homestuck epilogues #spoilers #stars not constellations #weaving threads

[rebekah-rose-books]

Alexandra VanHorn (AKA PatchWorkNerd)

I was recently lucky enough to be able to interview one of my favourite writers and a lady who inspires me to be the best and weirdest I can be, Alexandra VanHorn.

Alex has done an awful lot to make the writing community what it is today. She hosts the #WritersPatch chat every Sunday at 10am CST and she vlogs her own writing experience. I truly believe Alex is set for amazing things and I cannot wait to continue her journey with her!

Q1. Okay so let’s start off light: Give us 3 random and crazy facts about yourself?

1.  I collect teapots! It’s the kind where the tea pot stacks on top of a matching cup!  I own twelve!

2. I have a tattoo. Everyone is shocked when they find out because they say I don’t seem like the type of person to have one. It’s fun shattering their expectations and I want to get more tattoos down the road. The one I have is of three diamonds like Harley Quinn has on her leg, set in a lace and paisley pattern.

3. I write mostly magical realism and horror but I can’t watch horror movies. I scare way too easily because of my overactive imagination!  Talk about a contradiction!

Q2. If you were able to visit any fictional land and meet a few of the characters, where would you travel and who would want to meet?

I would go to Never Neverland and meet Peter Pan and the gang!  When I was a little girl I would fall asleep pretending that he was going to knock on my window at any moments and take me there! I’ve gone to Neverland so many time in my mind and it’s about time I go there for real! Plus I think Tinkerbell and I would hit it off!  She’s my sassy idol!

Q3. So your internet presence has been growing rapidly for a while now, and your biggest site is twitter and WritersPatch. What/ who inspired you to start a Writers patch?

Oh goodness, thank you for thinking that! It’s been a blur of a year because I’ve really been trying to form lasting connections with fellow writers and help encourage writers!  Twitter is such a great tool because it allows you the opportunity to connect with people about common interests. I saw a few chats on Twitter and I kept wrestling with the idea of starting my own, but cold feet kept getting the best of me. Finally I asked my Twitter buddies for advice and I had an amazing friend connect me with some MAJOR contributors to the world of Twitter discussions!  And you know what? They were all so nice and gave me a ton of advice! I took notes, I developed my mission, and now #WritersPatch is pure joy for me! I’ve actually had people tell me that I inspire them and it’s surreal! My hope it to continue to give fellow writers the tools and encouragement they need to recognize their own talents!

Q4. So the reason you are here is because you are a writer, who inspired you to write? Why did you start writing?

There wasn’t one particular writer who made me want to write, I’ve just always had this deep need to create stories as long as I can remember. When I was teeny tiny I found a picture book at the library that was in french. Instead of putting it back, I sat and made up the story based off of the pictures I saw. My mom was stunned by this and I think this is part of the reason why her and my dad encouraged my writing so much. Before I was old enough to write, I would tell my dad stories and he would write them down and teach me how to draw my own picture books. This love kept growing and soon I was making my own poems, chapter books, and comics! When I had free time in school, I was writing and finally it hit me that this could be my job when I grow up! That’s why I keep working hard to this very day because it brings me one step closer to my dream.

Q5. If you were to give one piece of advice to aspiring authors, what would it be?

Being weird doesn’t put you on an island. I have struggled my whole life with feeling like I’m the odd one out because my brain is wired differently from that of my peers. When I hit my teenage years I felt so scared and out of place with my art. I think this contributed to me having writers block for nearly 5 years in college. I just felt so scared of where my brain was going and what I was going to do with it. I’ve always been drawn towards dark stories and I wrestled with wondering why I just couldn’t be a happy girl who wrote happy things. Then the internet came waltzing into my life and I knew I wasn’t alone! I joined a writers group and my confidence soared! It can be so easy to think you’re all alone on this creative adventure. The greatest thing I ever did was made my writing a group experience. The more I share, the more I understand myself and gain confidence in my skills! You need to not be afraid of who you are and just let your freak flag fly!  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, no matter what your skills, you’re a writer you should be proud! You sparkle!

Q6. If you had to pick between only ever being able to read or write, which would you choose?

Writing. I will always choose writing. To be honest, I wasn’t an enthusiastic reader growing up because I could never find the kind of stories I wanted to read. I would proudly declare that I’d rather write a book than read a book. Of course now I understand the importance of reading to improving your writing, but you don’t know how stubborn younger me could be!

Q7. Who is your favourite author and why?

There are so many choices! My gut says Roald Dahl because he was my first favorite author. He made me see the normal world for all it’s whimsical possibilities!

Q8. Is there a genre you really want to try and write but are too scared to?

I outlined a young adult romantic comedy last year. I felt dirty while I did it, but the story was so gosh darn charming that I still love it. Though it’s not what I’d want my debut novel to be, I do plan to go back to it someday. The cuteness levels were well over 9,000!

Q9. I know that you are currently working on a lot of different writing projects. Can you give us a little something about one of them?

Yes! I am actually deciding between two manuscripts to pursue editing for publication. “Strange: A Manuscript” is the story of Becca who discovers the fictional world of her late-husband’s book is real when it’s villain steals aways her son. The other story currently nicknamed “Veil” is about Roger, the body guard of a fortune teller. He is trying to help her solve a murder while his inner demons literally try to take him over. I love both and it’s so hard choosing one to work on! But with my busy schedule it’s best to not stretch myself too thin and pick one!

Q10. If you weren’t in marketing or a writer what would your dream job be?

I know this is cheating, but writing is the only dream job I’ve ever had. Since I’m not published and I don’t have an agent yet, I still consider it in the “dream” category. Though my writing videos and discussions have also taught me that I love talking about writing. It’d be amazing to be a writing teacher! I will however stick to chats and videos instead of spending a billion dollars going back to school!

Thank you again, Alex for taking part in this interview!

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