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Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category

Here IT is again…

The Annual Resolution to WRITE MORE.

I do truly lament the dearth of any creative non-legal writing from me…

It’s just, after a day of staring at a computer screen, do I really want to stare at another one at home? After wracking my brain reading and writing legal briefs, I can’t bear to do anything else but, well…ugh…well, chores have to be done.

Adulting has hit hard.

But every year, I tell myself, “Isabelle, write…just write.”

Okay, little voice in my head, I’ll try.

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Free Books! *Swoon*

As many of you already know, I got a new iPad from my mom and I’ve been playing around on it a little bit. However, because of the fact that I am currently broke, I have been extremely careful to not buy anything from the App Store. So, yes, I definitely have the medium to quench the iApp-envy, but no, I do not yet have the funds to fully indulge.

However, I have been playing Free Sudoku and a few other Free games.

I watch Netflix on it like mad. (I have finished up to Season 7 of the X-Files…sigh, I remember why I used to crush on David Duchovny as a tween.)

I check my e-mail and love how I can easily move around from one account to another. I listen to iTunes on it and check the weather and NPR.  It is handy when all you want to do is look. It’s less handy for replying to emails or checking Facebook or anything else that involves actual interaction online.

But I digress.

Today, I discovered that there are free books for download. I almost swooned. My heart literally beat so hard and so fast it couldn’t have been healthy.  Thus, following that light headed moment, I went on a download frenzy.

Some of my all-time favorite classics that I have already re-read at least twice each shall be read once again because of this nifty little “free” button:

  • Pride and Prejudice
  • Sense and Sensibility
  • Dracula
  • Frankenstein
  • The Complete Works of William Shakespeare
  • Greek Mythology
  • Little Women
  • The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
  • The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
  • The Scarlet Letter

And new classics I have always wanted to read are now at my fingertips!

  • The Jungle
  • Wuthering Heights
  • Jane Eyre
  • Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

I did very easily bypass all the free Charles Dickens titles (*shudder for A Tale of Two Cities).

I also downloaded a couple of mystery thrillers and a couple of romance ones. What? I’m a girl, you know I’ll read that crap just to go “aw” and wonder if men who would choose love over anything else really exist.

Anyway, I also happily learned that these same books are free to download on Borders. I downloaded the Borders ebook reader as a back-up to the iReader because I get far more discounts from Borders.com than I do from the iTunes App Store. For example, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is about $7.99 on Borders if you’re a member, and $14.99 on iTunes App store.

So now, I’m off to read! *Does Happy Wiggle Dance*


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You tried to make cranberry sauce.

This was one of those lines from a story that I read that really just stayed with me. I read it sometime in 2006 and I come back to that story every now and then for something to make me smile.

It’s a short story written for a Thanksgiving Day writing challenge. It’s the last line in the story and it’s the answer the girl gives the guy when he asks her why she just hugged him. Their relationship had always been somewhat antagonistic, but in this little scene, there was tenderness, understanding, and a hug. Because he tried to make cranberry sauce.

I don’t expect you all to get the story, just the message behind the story. It reminds me all the time that it’s really the small things in life that add up to make you love someone. It’s the small things in life that make up a larger whole. It’s the little effort that matters. It’s the trying that counts.

Many times you will fail. But it also reminds me that it’s good to have people in your life who won’t just see your failure, but be able to look around at the disaster in the kitchen and realize that you tried your darnedest to make cranberry sauce. And then be able to give you a hug and appreciate it.

I go back to this story at least once or twice a year and every time it makes me smile. I hope I never get to a point where I have become so jaded that someone’s effort–though disastrous–no longer matters.  Everything is made up of the little things. I notice the little things, and yes, they do count.

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This is pretty amazing. One of my stories got translated into Russian. I’m beside myself.

Название: Полупркосновение
Автор: AKA DD
Перевод: Alaniel Dragon
Разрешение автора: получено
Рейтинг: PG-13

Пейринг:Деймно/Елена

Время: 19 серия
Оригинал: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5934373/1/Near_Touch
Пару слов: перевод с претензией на художественный, потому текст подвергся незначительным изменениям (в основном там, где есть игра слов)

Это было просто стихийное бедствие.

Она была в растерянности.

Возможно, потому что все смотрели на них. Или потому, что ОН смотрел на нее. А может, причиной было осознание того, что на нее смотрят самые прекрасные глаза в мире. Но причина была уже не важна – в этот миг Елена Гилберт забыла о Стефане Сальваторе. Совершенно забыла. Она не могла дышать. Она не видела и не слышала ничего вокруг. Она не могла даже подумать о чем-либо, кроме НЕГО. Как только они взглянули друг на друга, в горле у нее пересохло. И даже когда послышались первые аккорды, она не смогла отвести от него глаз.

Танец начинался с правой руки. Почти соприкасаясь, они медленно двигались по кругу. С удивлением Елена почувствовала жар, исходящий от его ладони. Этот жар охватил сначала ее руку, а потом распространился во всем теле. Ей хотелось верить, что именно поэтому в коленях появилась предательская слабость, а сердце застучало куда быстрей, чем следует.

И, Боже, как же он смотрел на нее.

Неужели она никогда не замечала, насколько голубые у него глаза? Будто свет рождался в их глубине. Они призвали утонуть в этом омуте, и ей казалось, что она непрочь остаться там навеки.

– Соблазняйте взглядом, – призывал в мыслях голос миссис Локвуд. Еще неделю назад во время репетиций ей никак не удавалось понять, что это значит. Но теперь взгляд Деймона подробно объяснял смысл этого высказывания.

Он смотрел на нее так, будто она была его личной вселенной. Будто ничего в жизни он не желал сильнее.

Елена не могла отвернуться. Она едва сдерживалась, чтобы не коснуться его руки кончиками пальцев.

Они сменили руки и стали кружится в другую сторону. Тут Елена и осознала что такое страсть. Это когда твои пальцы тянутся, чтобы лишь прикоснуться к руке другого человека. Это когда твое тело вибрирует от музыки внутреннего желания прильнуть к Деймону. Это когда единственное чего ты хочешь – раствориться в нем. Это когда он смотрит на тебя так.

Теперь они протянули друг другу оби руки и оказались лицом к лицу. В воздухе будто пробегали электрические импульсы. Будто перед тобой – запретный плод. Будто весь мир исчез.

Вот она – интимность полуприкосновения.

И снова Елена Отчетливо поняла, что имела ввиду миссис Локвуд. Как почти касание к кому-то может создавать электрические разряды, ощутимо покалывающие кожу? Откуда возникает это странное чувство, что весь мир исчез лишь оттого, что стоишь так близко, и в то же время недостаточно близко, а единственный путь выжить – коснуться его руки?

Она склонилась к нему, их руки почти соприкасались; она прикрыла глаза, сгорая от желания. Почти касаться Деймона – все равно, что почти дышать. Почти жить. Это как чувствовать жар огня, замерзая до смерти.

Как же ей хотелось, он прикоснулся к ней. Нестерпимо.

И он прикоснулся.

Обвил рукой ее талию и притянул ближе. Ближе, чем требовал танец, но все же не достаточно близко для Елены. Ее рука скользнула в его ладонь, и он сомкнул пальцы. Он прикасался к ней так бережно, словно она была самым ценным сокровищем во вселенной.

Это была почти любовь.

Она видела, как расширились его зрачки, будто он прочел ее мысли. Легкая улыбка промелькнула на его губах, когда он понял, насколько охотно она оставалась в его объятиях. Она тоже улыбнулась едва заметно, позволяя глазам отразить царившее в душе смятение.

Для Елены находиться в объятиях Деймона было в е равно, что принадлежать ему.

Они кружили в танце, а все цвета вокруг смешивались и меркли. Для Елены существовала только чистая глубина его глаз, которые ни на миг не оставляли ее. Все чувства сконцентрировались на осязании. Одной рукой он сжимал ее тонкие пальцы, другой касался обнаженной спины.

Будто сжигал ее своим прикосновением.

Елена совершенно растворилась в танце. Никогда еще ей не было так хорошо. Забылось все – и тайны, и печаль, и вина, и волнения. Она была просто девушкой, танцующей с парнем.

Но танец закончился и Деймон выпустил ее из своих объятий. Почти вытолкнул. Ледяной воздух моментально изгнал тепло его прикосновений. И наступило мгновенное и довольно неприятное пробуждение. Звуки смеха и аплодисментов напомнили ей кто она такая и где находится.

Напомнили о Стефане.

Она тут же отвернулась. Сердце стучало как бешенное – что сотворил с ней один единственный танец. Он заставил ее – пусть лишь на несколько мгновений – забыть Стефана.

Но больше всего ее пугало то, как сильно она жаждала прикосновений Деймона.

«Вся боль исчезает в твоих объятиях…» Слова песни еще звучали в ушах, когда она улыбалась публике.

– Если вы спросите меня, значение полуприкосновений сильно преувеличено, – сказал на репетиции Стефан.

Если вы спросите ее, полуприкосновение – это ящик Пандоры. Стихийное бедствие.

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Vampire Diaries Fanfic

Title: Near Touch

Summary: “It’s about the simple intimacy of the near-touch.”

Author’s Note: The scene is inspired by the Miss Mystic Falls episode.

NEAR-TOUCH

She was in trouble.

Maybe it was because everyone was watching them. Or maybe it was because he was looking at her. Or maybe it was because she suddenly realized that she was probably staring into a pair of the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen.

It didn’t matter, because whatever it was, in that moment, Elena Gilbert completely forgot about Stefan Salvatore.

It was like she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t hear, she couldn’t see, couldn’t even think about anyone else but him.

Her mouth went dry as they stood staring at each other. She couldn’t pry her eyes away from his even as she heard the first strains of the music begin. 

The dance started with their right hands a hair’s breadth from touching as they spun slowly.  Elena could feel the surprising heat that radiated from his palm. It filtered through her hand, down her arm, all the way through her body. She imagined it was why her knees suddenly felt weak, and her heart seemed to be beating faster than it should.

And, oh God, the way he looked at her.

Had she ever noticed how utterly blue his eyes were? They looked at her as if there was a light shining from behind them. They called her into their depths and she felt like she wouldn’t mind falling into them forever.

“Flirt with your eyes,”

Mrs. Lockwood’s voice filtered through her thoughts. She hadn’t understood what it had meant earlier in the week during rehearsals. But there was no way she could mistake the look in Damon’s eyes.

He looked at her like she was his universe.

Like she was everything he ever wanted.

Elena couldn’t look away.  She could barely contain herself from deftly moving her fingertips to touch his hand.

They switched hands and spun the other way. Elena suddenly understood what desire was. It was in the way your fingers longed to reach out and just touch the other person’s hand. It was the way her body thrummed with the music, with an inner desire to be closer and closer still to Damon. It was in the way she wanted to simply sink into him.

And it was in the way he looked at her.

This time they lifted both their hands towards each other and they were face to face. The air between them felt electric.  It felt forbidden. It felt like the whole world had simply dropped away.

It’s about the simple intimacy of the near-touch.

Again, Elena finally understood exactly what Mrs. Lockwood meant.  How could almost touching someone send little arcs of electricity flitting just beneath the surface of her skin? How could being so close, but not close enough, make the world feel like all the air had been sucked away and the only way to survive was to touch him?

She almost swayed closer, their hands almost touched; she almost closed her eyes in the sheer agony of need.  Almost touching Damon was like almost breathing. It was like almost living. It was like being cold and almost feeling the heat of a fire.

She wanted him to touch her. So bad.

And he did.

He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him—closer than what the dance called for—but not nearly close enough for Elena.  Her hand slipped into his and he clasped his fingers around hers. He held her like he would never let go. He held her like she was the most precious thing in the universe.

It was almost love.

She saw his eyes flicker as if he had read her mind. She saw the slight quirk of his lips as if he just realized that she was willingly in his arms, a small smile on her face, her eyes open to her soul.

To Elena, being in Damon’s arms, it felt almost like belonging.

They spun on the floor and the colors around them were a blur. All she saw were intent clear blue eyes that never left her.  All she felt was the warmth that radiated from the points of contact.  His hand entwined with hers, the other resting lightly over the exposed skin on her back.

It felt like he had branded her with the heat of his touch.

They danced and Elena lost herself in it. She had never felt lighter. She forgot everything—the secrets, the sadness, the guilt, the worry—she was just a girl dancing with a boy.

But the song ended and Damon stepped away, almost abruptly.  Cool air replaced the warmth between them and it hit Elena like a rude awakening.  The sounds of laughter, of the audience clapping reminded her of exactly where she was, of who she was. 

And it reminded her of Stefan.

In that moment, she looked away.  Her heart was racing, terrified of what a single dance could do.  Terrified that she had, for those few moments, forgotten that Stefan existed. 

But most of all, she was terrified that she had wanted Damon’s touch.

All my agony fades away, when you hold me in your embrace… The song teased through her as she turned away and smiled for the audience. 

“If you ask me, near-touch is overrated,” Stefan had said at rehearsals. 

If you asked her, near-touch was like opening Pandora’s box. It was trouble.

THE END.

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Oh No, She Didn’t!

Oh yes, I did.

I succumbed to the Tumblr craze.

check me out at:

FEARLESS DOODER

bazinga.

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Transporter Fanfic

Title: Complications

Summary: Frank Martin hated complications. A glimpse into what made Frank the way he is.

Author’s Note: Because this is so much better and easier than writing for law school.

COMPLICATIONS

Frank Martin lived by a set of rules.

Rules were clear. Rules were rational. Rules were about knowing what was at the beginning, the middle and, definitely what was at the end. Rules meant that there would be no surprises.

Rules were meant to be broken.

He pitied the men who lived by that careless aphorism. Frank smirked mirthlessly, his slate gray eyes remaining cold. Not his rules. When he was doing his job, he only lived by three cardinal rules.

Rule 1: NEVER CHANGE THE DEAL.

When the deal is made, no detail can be altered or renegotiated—not for any price. It was a simple rule, meant to keep everything precise, preclusive, and predictable. All t’s crossed, all i’s dotted, all scenarios envisioned and pre-planned. All possibilities anticipated and covered. This rule kept him alive.

Rule 2: NO NAMES

If he didn’t know, he couldn’t tell. If he couldn’t tell, he couldn’t be indicted. End of story. There was also the matter about how knowledge had a way of complicating the simplest matters. If he didn’t know, he couldn’t be asked to make judgments. He was just the transporter, a middle-man hired for his skills behind the wheel. Nothing more, nothing less.

Rule 3: NEVER LOOK IN THE PACKAGE

Just as simple and as rational as Rule 2. All it required were cold discipline, plenty of discretion, and maybe a touch of disregard. After all, if he didn’t know, there was no way he could care. (more…)

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