Pennydrake Snippet

Calliope rolled the coin between her fingers, tracing the strange square edges.  No one had been able to read the lettering on it, not even William. And he was the smartest of all the drakes.  Named after William Shakespeare.  He was always trying to get her to read his stories.

“I’m a wyvern, for the hundreth time, Callie,” the silvery-blue reptile sighed from above her head.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“I can tell when you’re thinking it.” William linked his long tail around the bedpost and slithered down to the blankets. “If you’re up, you should get ready for school.” Callie groaned and pulled the blanket over her head, falling back down onto the bed.  “I don’t want to go to school,” she complained, her voice muffled by the blanket. “If I don’t have parents I don’t have to go to school. It’s the law.”

“Oh?” A light pointed, scaly nose lifted the edge of the blanket. “And who knows more about law than the wyvern that spent half his life living in a bookstore or an obnoxious, stubborn little girl who refuses to-”

“Willy!  Willy!”  Sharp excited cries interupted the wyvern and Callie shoved him out from under the blanket.  William let out a sharp undrake-like squack of surprise.

“Willy!  Look what we found!” Callie poked her head out from under the blanket to see the twins Pix and Nix rush the elder wyvern, bowling him over in a whirlwind of wings and tails.

“It’s William!”  the wyvern insisted. “Stop calling me Willy!”  The two drakes rolled to a stop – Pix stuck her tongue out at him while Nix brandished a tarnished dime at him. “We found it outside! It’s really old I bet, look how dirty it is!”

“That doesn’t mean it’s old,” Max argued from above her head. He inhaled and breathed a sort of fire at the candle on the little shelf next to Callie’s bed, and she took it down and used the little flame to light the rest: two more fat, stubby candles on the floor and a tall white taper in a holder made of an old, broken vase. “You two are almost constantly covered in dirt and even Callie is older than you.”

“Is it?  Callie, what is the date?”  Nix held up the coin for her to read. William rolled his wings, which Callie had come to understand was the draconic version of rolling his eyes. She took the dime from Nix’s tiny claws  and squinted in the dim light. “I think it says 2002,” she answered. Nix and Pix both deflated. “Oh.”

Told you,” Max crowed triumphantly.

“Enough,” William flicked his tail at the other wyvern. “There’s no call to be rude.”

“But it’s more than we got yesterday, ” Callie said, patting Nix on the head. The drake rubbed his horns against her hand, comforted, and Pix pushed herself in, too. “What should we get for breakfast with it?”

“Apples!” Nix exclaimed immediately. “With caramel and sugar!”

“That’s not breakfast, it’s desert,” Max curled himself around the skinny candle and the fire glimmered on his coppery skin. “We haven’t had cinnamon rolls in a long time.”

“If you’re trying to avoid desert, that’s not much of an improvement,” William said dryly.  “You should have some real fruit, something healthy that will give you ener-

“Poptarts!” Pix jumped up onto the shelf and from here onto Callie’s shoulder. Her tiny claws tickled Callie’s arm as the drake settled comfortably around her neck. “Those have fruit in them.” Callie held out her arm, and Nix joined his sister.  “And strawberry jam and blueberries with icing!”

William sighed. “I rest my case.”

 

Poptarts was the consensus, as William defined it, since no one (except for him) had any objections. Callie let Pix rest around her neck while she retrieved the small pail of rainwater from outside the little cottage shed that was her home. She used a washcloth to wash her face and hands and teeth and Max was curled up on top of the shirt he’d picked out for her today when she came back inside.

Dressed and ready a short while later, William flapped elegantly up to her shoulder while the twin pennydrakes played at her feet.  Callie looked around at her little home, and was filled with a happy contentment. It was a tiny place, but just the perfect size for her and her friends.  The pile of blankets and pillow was her bed in the corner, a box of clothes in the other corner and the shelves that held all her belongings: the candles, a piece of smooth glass, a cracked mirror, old brush with several hairties around the handle and a worn black and white notebook.  Callie grabbed the notebook, William handed her a pencil and she closed the door, although she made sure Pix and Nix were outside first. Then they went to get breakfast.

Doing her best to ignore Max hanging off her ankle, William from her shoulder and the twins clinging to her shirttails, Callie reached up and emptied her little purse on the counter. In addition to the dingy dime Pix had discovered earlier, Callie slowly counted out enough nickels, dimes and the few rare quarters over to the cashier’s side.

“And could you give me a nickel for these?” She added, pushing over five copper pennies.

“..of course, ” the woman seemed flabbergasted at the request, but dutifully swept the handfuls of change off the counter and counted them into the drawer under her breath. She felt Nix shiver with excitement and skitter down her leg as the coins plinked and clanked into the drawer, vanishing into invisibility, followed shortly by her brother. Max snorted. The bagger handed her a plastic bag with her purchase, and Callie smiled brightly at them, doing her best to walk normally towards the door as Max shifted around her shoe.

“I don’t like you being so blase about lying like that,” William said, rather sternly as she padded through the parking lot. “Blase?” Callie shoved the bag into her jeans pocket and ripped into the top of the poptart box.

“Casual. At ease.” William opened his wings and swept down around her feet in a wide spiral. “There’s never a good reason to lie.”

“They wouldn’t have let me buy it if I told the truth.” Silver paper crinkled as she pulled out the strawberry frosted pastry. “You don’t know how annoying it is when grown ups try to baby you. I’m not going back to the home again, and that’s where they always send you.” She tore off a corner and dropped it – but Nix re-appeared out of nowhere and snatched it from midair.

“That was mine!”  Pix whined and snapped at his sister, who flapped labouriously into the air out of his reach.

“There’s avoiding truth because it’s the smart thing to do, and then there’s lying because it’s easy.” William accepted the piece of poptart she handed him. “Don’t get in the habit of lying to avoid questions, that’s a lazy way out.”

“Yes, mother,” Max snickered. “But aren’t you supposed to wait until class starts before giving lessons?” Callie appropriated the second pastry for herself and munched happily, surrounded by the cheerful chatter of the pennydrakes and William’s indignant scolding as she left the parking lot behind on the way to school.

 

 

Writing Prompt #2: Vessel

Masts and weathered sheets of canvas sail shattered the sky into scattered pieces, winking in and out of existence with every blink of her eyes. The breadth of the eastern horizon was lost amidst the collection of wood and cloth and humanity that clogged into the seaport. The taints of human occupation and ambition polluted the air as thickly as brine: sweat and blood, coal and smoke and perfume, so heavily it bore down upon her head, crushing into an ache between her temples.  It battled with the piercing stench of fish and salty sea water – acidic knives driving into her red, watering eyes. The hot, cloying thickness of tar and pitch accompanied it all until she felt as though she would suffocate. Underneath it all, a dark, red-hot throbbing pulsed with every speeding beat of her heart.

The sun beat down upon flesh, having long forsaken the gentle warmth of the morning light into the scorching, vengeful flame of midday, driving deep into her bones and draining her strength with every moment. It beat down upon the stripes of red and black pattern on her arms and shoulders and baked her sweat into a stinging torment. She licked chapped lips and gathered only a bitter, sick taste of salt, and dreamed for a single mouthful of  fresh water to wash it away.  Gulls screeched and cried in raucous chorus over her head, mixed with the screams of hawks and parrots. Fish mongers and the like called and bargained or wheedled passerby on the docks, women flirted with arrogant sailers from the brigatines, cruisers and clippers floating in the deep harbor, tiny sailboats leaving each like a trail of ants from rotted food.  Wind whipped the sales above her head into a frenzy, drawing the ship forward and back in a dizzying sway, battling against the anchor chains holding the ship in it’s place. The wood creaked and groaned beneath her in the eternal tug of war and she turned away from the docks, letting the cacophony washed over her, drowning out the endless chatter of life and her misery.

Closing her eyes, the sunlight was golden and painful beneath her eyelids, and she turned towards the scant shade with a groan, shifting on leather sandals worn thin. The wooden beams beneath them felt sturdy, but every shift and sway of the ship on the crest of the waves sent her stomach reeling. Pulling herself further within, she let her gaze travel along the floor: damp, weathered wooden beams ran the length of the bow, the veins of broken trees tracing un-even patterns, interrupted by stark stains of oakum and pitch: haphazard pools of black amidst the warm brown and water-worn grey.  Her fingers, clad in soft, thin gloves: the only mark of money about her, traced the edge of a knothole, the odd softness and smooth touch of the wood at odds to expectation. Years, decades of feet, canvas, wind and water had worn the splintered edges to a welcome, sun-baked warmth and feel. Her gaze followed the warped but firm beam across the deck and skittered past coils of heavy rope: hemp and cotton, curling like curls of brown ribbon around cleats stained red with rust.  Stains littered the wooden deck, encrusted white splatters of seabird droppings that scabbed beneath her shoes, splotches of pitch that were impossibly smooth and hot, baked into near-liquid once more by the blazing heat. Darker pools of brown, almost burgundy that she knew, intimately, had come from strife. Staring at it, all, hidden beneath the piles of cargo in an island of sea and salt, memory and rare curiosity tickled at her imagination. Barely thinking about it, she slipped her glove off with her left hand – but someone stepped close to her hidden spot, two someones: and dropped a heavy crate and the ship rolled once more-and without thought she reached out to steady herself, slamming her bare hand onto the deck.

Yawning miles and fathoms and leagues of space crashed past in a blurred array of color: and a wrenching, violent detachment that spiraled into one incomprehensible twist of crushing pain – she was a seed: minute, light as moonlight, buffeted by autumn winds inches and seconds away from destruction, then swallowed into the sustaining warmth of soil, caressed by rainwater and time. Harsh and heavy winters passed again and again, bleeding into burgeoning Spring and tentative sprigs of LIFE bloomed beneath the summer sun. Decades piled upon days, reaching pinewood fingers to cradle the sun; never away of the dread, salt-soaked future that lay waiting

…noise: abrupt discord and clamor and crashing, strange and terrible thunder and horrible, horrible AGONY; saws and hatchets and sharp teeth biting and clawing into flesh and heart, sheering away bak and skin, bleeding honey-sweet stick sap…hacked into pieces, layer over layer with tortured groans of twisted anguish, unheard and invisible.  Re-made and crucified against brothers and sisters with thick piercing iron bolts…

…they’d been buried deep, deep within the abyssal womb of the earth, secret, safe, humming with the silent rotation until the cacophony of ambition and explosions and picks and hammers tore open the cradle of rock. Mankind scraped her clean, deaf to her howls of torment. Burned and broken within white-hot flame, forced into streams of molten agony to cool and hammered into the shapes and rods and sheets and weapons… The world rocked beneath her hands and knees, and cool dampness splattered across her cheek. Her gasp of alarm and dread was lost amidst the wrench of dizzying reversal, torn away from the grinding pangs of steel and iron and alloy into an all-encompassing abyss of existence: a speck of tiny, minuscule life surrounded by…everything: power and rage and terror that bore her down, tossing her like a broken leaf in a winter storm, spinning wildly between light and dark and suffocating depths and infinite flashes of strife and death: pinpricks that tore across her consciousness like sandpaper, scraping her mind raw with waves of pure presence…being. Raging torrents of power and domination and fear, hatred and sex swept around her, too fast to catch or identify, all caught up in a woven labyrinth that was everything all at once, a storm of sensation and awareness that yanked her in every direction, tossing and spinning and dragging further and deeper and harder and faster and darker and brighter  –

The piercing knife edge of pain against her flesh ripped her mind from those howling visions. Blinking herself back into the present: back into the blazing sunlight and suffocating sea air. Without even being aware, she’d drawn the small knife from her waist, the only recourse remaining to recover when she was swept away in unprepared visions. It would be the same for anything if she didn’t take the effort to steel her mind: the barest touch upon canvas or rope and she’d be witness to the tortured wails of hemp and cannibas torn from the ground; even the soul of the love-sworn craftsman who’d carved the figurehead would have been caught in the wooden corpse’s memory. Her stomach convulsed as faint images and detached sensation lingered in her mind’s eye, blurring the deck with twists of dizziness, and she heaved on an empty gut, choking on her breath and acidic, burning bile. Her chest heaved for air as her gut roiled; curling around her middle, she hugged her arms heavily into her stomach and gasped for breath. Loud shouts and arguments drew nearer to the ship’s edge, and the knife trembled in her white-knuckled hand. Focusing her gaze onto the warped cracks in salt-crusted deck, she willed the convulsions to ease and took deep, slow breaths, seeking the calm and quiet. She didn’t believe in a god, but if there had ever been one to curse her with such a gift, she prayed now that her hiding place would hold and her secrecy would remain in tact.

The quiet returned – in the outside world, at least. Inside her mind, the tortured wails of her visions swept around her thoughts. There was nothing lovely about this ship – or any of them. Nothing beautiful or glorious or elegant or handsome or grand or graceful about any of them. They were corpses, rotting, screaming ghosts or empty memories. Every one of them. Revulsion and anger welled in her throat and she turned her face away, turning to the hands gathered in her lap. Hardly recognizable, these hands, she realized, letting her eyes drink in the details. Scarred, bent by numerous breaks, battered use. Purple blood bruises lingered beneath her skin and gathered on the edges of their fingernails. She closed her eyes, shutting everything out, and relished the golden-tinged blackness of her vision.  She was never going back. Rotating the thin blade in her fingers, she placed it against her belly, testing it against the rough linen of her shirt. Never going back. Never going back. Curling a fist, she harnessed the pain of that moment and opened her eyes once more. Gazing around the small sea clipper, her focus hardened and held firm.

No. it may be a ghost ship, a floating graveyard filled wth corpses, but it was taking her away. For that, for that alone, it was the most beautiful ship in the world.

 

 

 

 

Notes on Writing Excuses Podcasts

Gendered Writing:

Women seek to connect: “rapport- speak”, Men seek status: “report-speak”, but variations fluctuate wildly based on how a character is socialized in their youth or environment. Women tend to equivocate, and men “raz” others, but these can vary in situation.

How to write male POV? Read magazines targeted to guys, spend time listening to how conversations build and move: how people actually talk

Test your gendered writing with the opposite sex

Building a Great Outline:

Test the various story structures with the beats of your story and see which ones fit, which makes you excited about the story. Consider cycles of history and how you can use that organic past to influence a weak structure or plot.

How Sanderson does it: start with an “awesome” ending, and justify what it takes to reach that point, building an outline backwards, justifying in turn each moment back to the point or origin. This gives the ending a real kick that isn’t exhausted by getting there.

Another type: start with a pitch or short synopsis, and flesh out larger and larger with each turn: this keep s everything orbiting around a central theme or story point, but is also conducive to more discovery writing.

Outlining is good, but it is just a tool. When to stop outlining: once you hit your emotional beat. If you start putting dialogue in the outline.

Occasionally, you may discover a story lacks form, then it might be helpful to re-consider story structures. If you find yourself getting bored with a story, consider: is it because the story has no structure? DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A STORY AND STUFF HAPPENING.

  • World-building is a tool for your story – don’t let it become an encyclopedia. You don’t need to have everything in the universe planned to write the story. (Ex: Schlock Mercenary’s 70 Maxims – does not have all 70 written).
  • When considering the world and how much you need to know, find the “gee-whiz” idea and build forward from that – how it affects societies on all levels and what becomes of that.

When writing your world into the story, avoid info dumps. Information is important, but only in the sense that if furthers the character or the story.

ex: If a woman is talking on the phone, we don’t need to know that it’s a corded phone, UNLESS the cord is somehow relevant to something that happens or remarks on her character (she’s too poor to have a cell, she’ll strangle somewhere with the cord later, it was her grandmother’s phone, and thus an emotional touchstone…etc).

How does the world relate to the character at hand – their past, their future, their experiences – is there a point to the additions or are you just trying to be smart and show your “extra” work?

Ex: why people don’t wear bathing suits in groceries stores, why Roshar women don’t reveal their safe-hand, cultural word-building quirks are sometimes best left “un-answered” because they don’t offer any USE to furthering the plot or character – an exception might be if a character refuses to adhere to societal norms, in which case it becomes a plot point.

 

Sorry, not sorry. These are fun!

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? Um. my niece, Zoe.
2. Are you outgoing or shy? I am the shyest person to every shy.
3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? Bit of a broad question, but Mom, Dad and Erica when they come up this week. 
4. Are you easy to get along with? I certainly like to believe so. 
5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? Given that I am currently crush-less…Guess I better not drink!
6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Smart people. Sapoisexuality. It’s a thing.  Also, tall men. 
7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? Male to female relationship? Hah. 
8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? Benedict Cumberbatch ’cause that’s where I learned what sapoisexual was. 
9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? A little, perhaps, given that I’ve no experience. Yes, I said it. 
10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Erm. Anthony, I guess. 
11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? “You should come to church tonight. We have free child care.”
12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? Oy. Um. “Nevermore,” from Beauty and the Beast. “Do I Wanna Know,” by Artic Monkeys, “Somewhere over the Rainbow” by IZ, “500 Miles” by the Proclaimers. Yes, that’s only 4. I like a lot of stuff. 
13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? It’s never been long enough to warrant it. But I doubt it. It seems a very intimate act.
14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Luck, no. Miracles, yes. 
15. What good thing happened this summer? Dude, summer hasn’t even started yet. And I can’t remember last summer. But summers don’t really mean much anymore, now that school is long done. 
16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? um. Zoe? Sure! 
17. Do you think there is life on other planets? Not human life, no. But I wouldn’t rule out the idea of bacterial or microcosm. The God who created the universe for us to enjoy would probably do that just for our exploratory hearts. 
18. Do you still talk to your first crush? Justin Cheeley. Oy, was he gorgeous. 
19. Do you like bubble baths? Very occasionally. 
20. Do you like your neighbors? Well, that haven’t come at me with a hatchet yet, so, sure. 
21. What are you bad habits? I’m lazy. 
22. Where would you like to travel? Russia. New Zealand. Switzerland. Scotland. Norway. Sweden. 
23. Do you have trust issues? I don’t think so, I think I have the opposite of trust issues. 
24. Favorite part of your daily routine? Coming home to my cats. 
25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My belly. 
26. What do you do when you wake up? Open my eyes. More seriously, usually turn over in bed. 
27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? Darker, I guess. Any lighter and I’d be flourescent. 
28. Who are you most comfortable around? Martyne.
29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?  Nope!
30. Do you ever want to get married? I think so, yes. 
31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? Not yet. Maybe in 3 years. 
32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?  Um. Ew. 
33. Spell your name with your chin. hllolluy. Hey, not bad!!
34. Do you play sports? What sports? Frisbee is a sport. 
35. Would you rather live without TV or music? TV. I could quite easily give up TV. 
36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Oh, I excel at that. 
37. What do you say during awkward silences? Something usually even more awkward. 
38. Describe your dream girl/guy? Smart, but not crazy smart, otherwise it’d kill my own self confidence. Funny, skinny, nerdy.  Christian. Someone who’d argue themes in Doctor Who with me and pray with me afterwards. 
39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? Bookstores!  Also, I happen to enjoy thrift/antique shops. 
40. What do you want to do after high school? College. 
41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Considering Jesus has given us eternal second chances, yes. 
42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? I can’t think of anything to say. Or I really upset. 
43. Do you smile at strangers? Yes. I believe that seeing others smile or laugh turns them from strangers into potential friends. 
44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? OOh. Hard decision. Bottom of the sea.
45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? The fact that if I miss work too much I’ll get fired. 
46. What are you paranoid about? I might lose my job. I didn’t say it was rational paranoia. 
47. Have you ever been high? Nah, 
48. Have you ever been drunk? Not really. Buzzed, yeah. I don’t see any point to getting pissed-out drunk, 
49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? Yeah.  What, I’m not telling!
50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?   Black. Surprise!
51. Ever wished you were someone else? No one specifically, no. A different version of myself, certainly. 
52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? To correct my gastro problems so it didn’t overtake my life. 
53. Favourite makeup brand? There are brands?
54. Favourite store? Barnes and Noble
55. Favourite blog? Well, I only read one because she writes awesome fanfic and I get Star Wars memes from it. 
56. Favourite colour?
57. Favourite food? Black. or Yellow. 
58. Last thing you ate? Piece of bacon. 
59. First thing you ate this morning? Berry poptart. 
60. Ever won a competition? For what? Individually? I can’t remember. I almost won a hula-hoop contest before I got hips, though. And we won Color guard competitions when I was in high school. 
61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? Nah, I’m too vanilla for that. 
62. Been arrested? For what? WAAAAY to vanilla for that. 
63. Ever been in love?  I doubt it. You’d think I’d know for certain were it the case. 
64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? Ah, no thanks. We both realized it hadn’t happened to either person and decided New Years was a good a time as any. Ah, I didn’t want to tell. 
65. Are you hungry right now? No way, I had too much to eat for dinner. 
66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? I don’t spend enough time online to have online friends. I consider that a healthy thing, 
67. Facebook or Twitter? Facebook, because I don’t have time or the inclination for Twitter. 
68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr is funnier. 
69. Are you watching tv right now? No. Listening to film score radio, though. 
70. Names of your bestfriends?  Jenna, Caitlyn, Martyne. 
71. Craving something? What? Nah. 
72. What colour are your towels? Black. 
72. How many pillows do you sleep with? One body pillow, one regular. 
73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? They occupy my bed, but I don’t specifically ‘sleep’ with them. 
74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? 6 or 7?
75. Favourite animal? Cats. 
76. What colour is your underwear? Right now? Tan. 
77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate. 
78. Favourite ice cream flavour? Hmmm. Chocolate Peppermint. 
79. What colour shirt are you wearing? Black. I’m seeing a pattern, 
80. What colour pants? HAH. I was wearing black. Now green polka dots. They’re pajamas. 
81. Favourite tv show? Doctor Who. 
82. Favourite movie? Fried Green Tomatoes. 
83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? Neither, never seen them. 
84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Ditto.
85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? I’m skipping this question. “
86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? WEEED NEEEEeedd TOO FIIIND HIS SOOonn…”
87. First person you talked to today? Sarah, from work. 
88. Last person you talked to today? Wow. Um. Speaking from the mouth? God. 
89. Name a person you hate? I endeavor not to hate. 
90. Name a person you love? Mom. 
91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? No…
92. In a fight with someone? I don’t think so. If I am, it is totally one-sided. 
93. How many sweatpants do you have? Zero, but 3 pairs of warm up pants. 
94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? A bunch. They keep it rather chilly in the office. 
95. Last movie you watched? Beauty and the Beast, 
96. Favourite actress? Oh, I dunno. I don’t really have one. 
97. Favourite actor? Ewan McGregory. James McAvoy. 
98. Do you tan a lot? I burn a significant amount. 
99. Have any pets? Two cats own me. 
100. How are you feeling? Fat. Tired. 
101. Do you type fast? Nope.
102. Do you regret anything from your past? Not taking control of my gastro issues when I started having them. 
103. Can you spell well? REalitvely well, provided I have spell check.
104. Do you miss anyone from your past? I’d like to think I’ve stayed connected with most…Mr. Blinkinsop. 
105. Ever been to a bonfire party? Yeah, sort of. 
106. Ever broken someone’s heart? Oh I hope not, but yeah. One of my worst moments. 
107. Have you ever been on a horse? A Loooong time ago. 
108. What should you be doing? Writing. 
109. Is something irritating you right now? The fact that I’m not loosing weight. 
110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? I don’t think so. I feel like I’m missing out on something. 
111. Do you have trust issues? No.
112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? Besides God? Maybe Elena. 
113. What was your childhood nickname? Megan called me Lil P. 
114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? Yeah!  I want to visit all 50. 
115. Do you play the Wii? No, don’t have one. 
116. Are you listening to music right now? Pandora Film Scores, baby. 
117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? Yeah, occasionally. 
118. Do you like Chinese food? On occasions. But I stick with the General. 
119. Favourite book?  Hmm.  Warbreaker, but Brandon Sanderson.
120. Are you afraid of the dark? Isn’t that a TV show?
121. Are you mean? I…can be. I’m not proud of it. 
122. Is cheating ever okay? No. If you’re unhappy, TALK. 
123. Can you keep white shoes clean? There’s a reason I don’t have white shoes. 
124. Do you believe in love at first sight? No. Lust at first sight, infatuation, obsession, yes. Attraction, yes. Love is an action. 
125. Do you believe in true love? Yes, I guess. I’d like to. 
126. Are you currently bored? Maybe a little. I’m filing this out, aren’t I?
127. What makes you happy? The sheer joy of doing something I love. Being successful at something.  
128. Would you change your name? First, perhaps. Last, no way. 
129. What your zodiac sign? Pisces. did you know that 12 constellations of the zodiac are as follows: Ares, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Capricorn, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpious, Sagettarius, Aquarias and Piceses?
130. Do you like subway? Ew.
131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? Awkward. But…bring it out into the open, if it negatively affects the relationship. If they can withhold their attraction to boundaries, I don’t see a problem. 
132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? …Didn’t we already do this one?O
133. Favourite lyrics right now? Oh, you must be kidding me. That’s impossible to answer. 
134. Can you count to one million? If I was being paid enough to waste that much time, sure. 
135. Dumbest lie you ever told? No. 
136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? Partly open, so the cats don’t tear up the carpet or keep me awake trying to get into the bedroom. 
137. How tall are you? Not tall enough. 
138. Curly or Straight hair? Straight. 
139. Brunette or Blonde?  What is this, 20 questions? 
140. Summer or Winter? Winter. You can ski in winter. 
141. Night or Day? “In the dark of the night, evil will find her  (find her…).” Ah, sorry got distracted. 
142. Favourite month? October, oddly enough. I wish costuming was more of a thing for adults. 
143. Are you a vegetarian? I like meat. I do wish the industry wasn’t so terrible, though. 
144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? DARK. 
145. Tea or Coffee? Coffee, but what I drink can hardly be designated AS coffee. 
146. Was today a good day? I’m alive, healthy, comfortable, employed, and I have health insurance, a working car, and family. Yeah, today was a good day. 
147. Mars or Snickers? Pluto. 
148. What’s your favourite quote? “There’s no point in being grown-up if you can’t be childish sometimes.”  (the 3rd Doctor). 
149. Do you believe in ghosts? Spirits of deceased humans? No…but I do believe in a spiritual world, difficult as it is to do so. 
150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? “The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.”  Genesis 19.