Top ten stories list :)

After finally getting my list down from 25, I have my top ten here. (It was kind of hard to get them in the right order, and I'll probably regret it later... but oh well.) Number 2 is very long and rambly... just warning you. If you think it'll bore you, skip to number 1 because that's more important.

10. Robin Hood

There are too many versions of this story to count, but my favorites are The Outlaw of Sherwood by Robin McKinley and BBC's television series. Growing up, Robin Hood was one of my heroes (though in the version I used to read, I was a bit annoyed when he made fun of romantics; later versions are better for me). This is classic, old-fashioned action, romance, and humor with an underdog for a main character; that describes everything I loved most when I was young.

9. The Odd Thomas series by Dean Koontz

I watched Ghost Whisperer when I was young, a show that taught me a lot... about how to overdramatize everything. Really, I hate that show now, and I thought it had ruined all ghost stories for me. But Odd Thomas is not Melinda; he's a completely average man, so average that it's almost sad, who somehow gained the ability to see and talk to ghosts. Everything in the story is fresh and imaginative (ghosts can't speak; I learned so much about Elvis because he follows Odd around; Tasers: definitely not funny... unless Odd gets hit by one and then tries to make a phone call). As always, Dean Koontz writes a story so different and strange and mixes it with beautiful prose and quite a bit of humor. Plus, I can't resist a story with the ghost of Elvis Presley in it. And later, Frank Sinatra!

8. Just Like Heaven

Since I associate this movie with another called Heart & Souls, it took me a while to separate them enough to pick the best one. Once I looked objectively though, I realized how much I love this one more. This story is about a depressed man who rents an apartment and spends all his time on the couch, drinking and watching sports. Sounds awful, I know. It gets better when he starts seeing a blond woman running around his new apartment and even funnier when she convinces him that he's crazy/drunk, and she owns the apartment. They realize that the woman is a ghost, though she swears she's not dead, and a psychic soon tells him that she's right. The pace picks up when the man discovers that he's in love with this ghost and starts trying to find her, wherever she may be, and save her.

7. Bright Star

This is a fictionalized story based on the John Keats poem by the same name. It's about the poet, the death of his brother at a young age, his relationship with a friend, and his love for a young woman who we can't have because of his own financial problems. The acting is amazing in this movie, and I can't ever read John Keats's poetry without hearing Ben Whishaw's (beautiful) voice in my head. The story is definitely sad, and I am not ashamed to say that I cried at the end. You spend an two hours listening to this man speak so elegantly and watching him fall in love, only to see the woman wail for him after his death. (That's not a spoiler; Keats was a real person who died at 25 years of age.)

6. The Husband by Dean Koontz

Another by Dean Koontz, my third favorite author. This is the story of Mitch, a simple gardener who comes home one day to find that his wife has been kidnapped. As he searches for her, following the will of her captors as well as he can, shocking revelations are made about his own life, and it soon becomes apparent that he will do anything for the woman he loves. Psychopaths and geniuses (most of them both at once) abound in this story, and it is never boring. Suspenseful and gripping, oftentimes very confusing, but never, ever boring, even on the second read.

5. Forbidden by Ted Dekker and Tosca Lee

Here's something hard to describe. It's a pairing of my two favorite authors as they tell the story of a world trapped in numbness. In the future, emotion has been eradicated, leaving only the necessary fear for survival. There is no love, no joy, no sadness or anger... until Rom and Avra find a vial of blood, and their world explodes with so many new feelings. But the police are chasing them down, and the world is terrifying and saddening place when one's eyes are opened.

4. Moulin Rouge

This movie from director Baz Luhrmann is strange, different from most romances I've ever seen ("most" because Luhrmann also directed Romeo + Juliet, the Leonardo DiCaprio version). It's filled with music of all kinds, from the Nat King Cole's "Nature Boy" to Kiss's "I Was Made For Lovin' You" and Sting's "Roxanne." The acting is incredible, and the both the main characters and many side characters have beautiful singing voices. It's a bit inappropriate for the younger crowd, but I do adore the musical romance and the sad, sad ending. (The end is given away in the beginning, so that's not a spoiler.) 

3. Once Upon a Marigold by Jean Ferris

A fun, light romance that I've read over a dozen times (around fifteen, at my best guess) set in a magical, medieval world of princesses and trolls. The story centers on Christian, a boy who ran away from home when he was young and was taken in to be raised by a troll named Ed and his dogs, and Marigold, a princess who no one ever touches because of her curse: the ability to read others' minds with a touch. Though Christian lives in the forest and Marigold in the castle, he can see her through a telescope when she steps onto the ramparts, and as a boy, he watches her and her family as a way of connecting to another human being. Finally, he begins messaging her through "p-mail," carrier pigeons, and they become best friends, though he never tells her his name. After a time, Christian decides to leave home and go to the castle for work, where he meets Marigold face-to-face and begins to love her even more. The story is simple but beautiful as Christian has to rush to save his love's life and discover who he really is.

2. Doctor Who

This is a fun, witty, epic science fiction television series that started all the way back in the sixties. Because the Doctor (a now-900-year-old time and space travelling Time Lord) can regenerate when he dies, becoming a new man with the same memories, the series could go on forever. (Previously, the Doctor only had thirteen regenerations total, but that has changed over time.) Also because of this, each new actor can change the Doctor a bit, keeping the core beliefs on the alien the same; thus, everyone can be a fan of Doctor Who without having anything in common with other fans! Great, right? Most "Whovians" will say things like "my Doctor," which just means whichever version they grew up/love the most. Mine is David Tennant, the Tenth regeneration who left only last year (I own his Sonic Screwdriver, and I'm getting the weapon of his greatest enemy, the Master, for Christmas), though my favorite companions (people who travel with him in his TARDIS, Time And Relative Dimension In Space) are Rory and Amy, who are the most recent. It's a bit confusing if you don't know what you're doing. My advice: watch the modern series; Christopher Eccleston, Nine, explains almost everything. 

1. The Circle Trilogy by Ted Dekker
Ted is my favorite author. I read House, Thr3e, and Blink when I was fourteen/fifteen, and then I moved on to the Circle Trilogy, Black, Red, and White. These books blew my mind. I am not being overly dramatic; they changed my heart and my life. The way I think about God and Jesus has completely changed since those days. I do know it was just a story, but it was also a look at God through the eyes of a Christian man who has more figured out than I do (not everything, but more). This series makes it to number 1 on my list because it opened my eyes and brought me closer to my Creator than I had ever been before.

NaNoWriMo starts November the first!

  And here I am: Sarah E.N.!!

  I am entering this contest for the first time ever! I don't expect to really get 50k, but I will try. I'll be trying to finish Redemption.

  Not sure what NaNoWriMo is? Let me explain. It stands for National Novel Writing Month. Get it? Month. On November first, would-be writers all over the country will sit down with laptops, word processors, pens and paper, and typewriters! Many will pull all-nighters, drinking whole pots of coffee, to write their novels.

  The rules say to start with a new story and write without editing. Fortunately, I know a guy *wink.* Evan has done this before, and he told me (and the other new guys) that it's okay to use a story you've been working on already so long as you don't count the parts you had before November 1st. Redemption has twelve chapters and almost twenty thousand words, a total of seventy-three pages.

  So wish me luck! On November first, I will enter the Internet for only three things:

1. Youtube - Gotta have my music, and I don't own all that I need for "noveling," as the NaNoWriMo website puts it.
2. Research - I think I have it all down, but you never know. I may need to look up a type of gun for Angel or a car for Nathan.
3. The NaNoWriMo 2011 first-timers support group on Facebook - Hopefully, Evan will be on at some point. Maybe. Probably not.

  Other than that, the Internet will be OFF. Did you know you could turn it off? You can. It's crazy. So, November! Be there, or be square. (And no, it is not hip to be square. Get it right, Huey.)

I hope John Gacy Jr. rots in Hell

This post is offensive and sick. Don't read it if you can't handle it.

  I know there are disgusting, evil, vile people in this world. I know that. I read about Jeffrey Lionel Dahmer and a bunch of others, and I know even more fictional-but-based-on-real-life serial killers.

  But you know what? It doesn't matter. Because when I heard of a guy named John Wayne Gacy, I thought the name was interesting, so I had to Wikipedia him. Serial killer, clown outfit, rapist, etc. I'm unfazed. And then I reach the list of victims.

  It's just a list of names and numbers, but it strikes a chord. I can't focus on anything else, can't think about my stories. I can only think about these names. I can only stare at them.

Timothy McCoy (15) January 3, 1972 John Butkovitch (17) July 29, 1975 Darrell Sampson (18) April 6, 1976 Randall Reffett (15) May 14, 1976 Samuel Stapleton (14) May 14, 1976 Michael Bonnin (17) June 3, 1976 William Carroll (16) June 13, 1976 Rick Johnston (17) August 6, 1976 Kenneth Parker (16) October 24, 1976

Michael Marino (14) October 24, 1976 Gregory Godzik (17) December 12, 1976 John Szyc (19) January 20, 1977 Jon Prestidge (20) March 15, 1977 Matthew Bowman (19) July 5, 1977 Robert Gilroy (18) September 15, 1977 John Mowery (19) September 25, 1977 Russell Nelson (21) October 17, 1977 Robert Winch (16) November 10, 1977

Tommy Boling (20) November 18, 1977 David Talsma (19) December 9, 1977 William Kindred (19) February 16, 1978 Timothy O' Rourke (20) June 16–23, 1978 Frank Landingin (19) November 4, 1978 James Mazzara (21) November 24, 1978 Robert Piest (15) December 11, 1978

  Then there are eight more that are unnamed. Eight boys from ages 15 to 25 were killed by this man, and no one knows who they are. Six days ago, they exhumed the bodies and began testing DNA, but still. Can you imagine being a mother of a missing boy during that time? You find out that eight boys have been found but not identified, and you are suddenly sure that your son is among them.

  So I started reading more about this killer. According to Wikipedia, John Wayne Gacy Jr. raped and killed thirty-three teenage boys to young men, burying them in the crawlspace of his house and in his yard. He worked in fast food restaurants and dressed as a clown for charity events. At one point, he was married with children, but after being arrested for sexual assault, his wife left him and took his kids. His son's name was Michael.

  Michael Marino was one of his later victims. It wasn't his son, but it bothered me immensely when I noticed this. This was the name that I had given the most attention because he was only fourteen. So very young.

  These were children that he raped and murdered in his home, then buried in the crawlspace. It's so very sick and disturbing, so... My regular phrases don't apply here; they don't fit. This is the sh** that terrifies me when I think of bringing children into this fu**ed up world.

  I pray that God takes mercy on the souls of these poor children. And I hope that the black soul of John Wayne Gacy currently resides in the worst torment, the kind that no one on earth could ever imagine.

When did seventeen start meaning OLD?

My tastes have matured,
but they haven't really changed.

  I discovered Youtube when I was about twelve or thirteen. I was still new at surfing through the videos, and I remember those days when I was cute and favorited videos of jets because they had clips of my favorite songs in them. Heh, I was so cute...

  Anyway, even back then, I liked boys. Really liked boys. I also liked Harry Potter, which meant that I fell for... Can anyone guess? Draco Malfoy! The bad boy with the blond hair and (sometimes) a longing to be good. I still like those types, as you can see. That picture over there is my current and probably longest-lasting actor crush, not counting Robert Downey Jr.

Anyway, I used to watch the same video over and over. Britney Spears's "Toxic" played while images of Draco flashed past me. I was practically bouncing as I watched, even though I didn't really understand that lusty feeling back then. I was a child.

But the thing is, he was a child too. I found the video again tonight and decided to watch it. It was okay at first because Draco was really mature at fourteen, so those clips were still pretty hot. But then this other scene flashed by. The still-kinda-chubby face of an eleven-year-old boy, one year younger than my baby brother. My eyes did this: O.O

I felt like a pervert watching that video. It was disgusting. Not that I was still interested in him at that age, but the song and the memories of when I was younger... Gah! I've been noticing more and more lately that the boys I used to love are now children. I guess that's why movie/television crushes are so silly; you grow up and they don't. Still, it made me feel old, and that isn't anywhere close to fair!

So here is the actual video. *sigh*

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Writing a book: tips

Got your attention?
 Good; now read ==>

  Here's some advice on writing for anyone who cares to listen. I'm not big and famous, but I have been writing for most of my life, so I do have some experience. Here is the why, what, who, when, where, and how of writing.

1. Words of warning. You will not be famous. You will not be rich. The first idea you ever have will be a joke, your characters will be flat, your plot will be full of holes, and your prose will need tons of work. This is coming from someone who started at eight-nine years old; at seventeen, I still need more practice. And this isn't just me. Every writer must go through the process (though some will be luckier than others).

2. The message. This is the why of writing. Your story will have some meaning, whether it's that love conquers all, that we should take better care of our planet, or even that a laugh does a person good. I truly don't care what you choose, but it must mean something to you. If you try to write about something that doesn't put fire in your heart and charge up your soul, you will fail in your writing.

Check your work, kids.

3. Plot. This is what you write. This is the most difficult part of writing, from my perspective (every writer is different). If you want it to be believable and realistic, you will have problem after problem with this. Comedies are easier but not strictly easy. You will write, realize that it doesn't work, take pieces from that to rewrite, and repeat. Eventually, you may have a working story, but even then, it could be just a mash-up, in which case your prose has suffered, and you must redo it all. But don't give up! You will find that story, even if it takes a very long time.

4. Characters. This is the who of writing. After so many years of practice based solely on this area of writing, characters are my expertise. I was even told that, though my plot is sometimes weak, the strength of my characters make up for it. Anyway, it may not be so "easy" (years of practice, remember?) for you. A character has to be more than a list of attributes and clothing colors. He must be a person to be believable. You have to know him; you have to grow to know him like you would any friend. One of the best ways is to write short stories centered on one character. It doesn't even have to fit your real story; it's just there for you to discover how he talks, acts, and thinks. You'll know when he/she is right.

It's a delicate job.

5. Setting. This is the when and where of your work. It doesn't matter what you choose; you will need to do research. Are you writing about a town in your own state/country? What street do they live on? (I actually made up the town in Redemption, but I still have to research small towns in general.) Are you writing about the jungles of South America? What do you know about jungles, not including what you learned from Indiana Jones? How about medieval times? Yes, you even have to research that. Use the heck out of Wikipedia and Google; they are very helpful tools.

Overwhelming? Thesaurus.com is
your best friend.

5. Style. This is how you write. This is not something I can explain because it develops on its own over time, and everyone is different. However, there are a special few who rise above the rest, and these are the ones who become famous. Take a look at some of Ted Dekker's, Dean Koontz's, or Tosca Lee's works and notice the poetry they are able to work into their novels. It's truly beautiful. I know quite a few authors, and most of them are very, very good, but only a few are truly unique, rising stars of the writing world. One of these is a dear friend of mine, whose name I won't post for privacy issues. His wording is so elegant and different that I always have to pause and look again. Truly amazing work.

And one more thing. "There is no such thing as writer's block. There is only fear. Fear of the unknown." - Ted Dekker. There is fear that you are not good enough and fear that you never will be. Sometimes, it becomes frustrating and overwhelming, but don't give up! Stick with it because it is always worth it to write, whether or not you even become published.

He causes the blind to see

  I got contacts!

  I am not technically blind.  But I am legally blind, and I refuse to take off my glasses in public because I hate the helpless feeling I get when I can't see.  I have to trust someone a lot to take off my glasses with them, which is why a good optometrist is so important.

  I have had glasses for nine years.  I hate things touching me, hate plastic rims on my face, and hate the dependency I have on those things.  I can't take them off, and when I do, they're always inches away.  (In the morning sometimes, I drop them.  Then I have to blindly find my mama or wait for someone, hopefully her, to walk in and help me.)  Another downside of my nearsightedness is that no one can really see my eyes.  First, people are distracted by the glasses.  Then, my eyes are made small by the lenses (like a backwards magnifying glass).

  So what do I think of contacts?  They're freaking amazing!  A bit difficult to put in but easy to take out, and I can't feel them at all.  Do you know what that means?

  If I don't think about it, I have perfect vision.  I feel like a normal person, and I can SEE!  I LOVE IT!!!

  Sure, I only just got them, so they do irritate after I wear them awhile.  Then there's the process of putting them in, which is annoying after a dozen or so tries, but I'm stubborn, and every hit-and-miss makes me angry, so I keep trying until I get it.  Like playing Zelda.

  I used to pray that God would heal my vision.  And I know He did, even if He did it with Acuvue Oasis instead of a flash of bright light and thunder.  How do I know He did it?  I have astigmatism like my daddy, and his eyes are so sensitive.  Plus, the idea of touching his own eye bothers him immensely.  I am blessed with being able to put them in with barely a flinch; blinking is reflex, but I'm not consciously disturbed.  And it doesn't hurt!  That's God.

  Now I just need to get the money to keep them.  They're disposable because the kind you can keep give people infections, so they don't make them anymore.  I have to throw mine out every 2 weeks or a month (I forget).  So I'm hoping that I can give up Christmas and maybe my birthday in April for these...

Prejudiced parents

  I have recently discovered a new type of prejudice.  By reading two blogs (that hardly makes me an expert, I know) by parents with autistic children, I have learned what some, at least this one and her readers, think of those parents who have what they call "typical" kids.  In this particular post, she writes that "Typical Parents Are a Bunch of Drunken Pussies." (If you don't understand this, please don't look it up.)
  This sickens me. And it isn't just one post; she is constantly bashing "typical" parents and their "angelic" kids. She has this air of, "My life is harder, so I can say whatever I want," about her writing.
WRONG.  Life is not about who has it the worst. No one can judge that. For example, I know it's hard raising an autistic child, but is it really harder than raising my sister? The girl who started dating (which means, of course, going behind my parents' backs with boys) when she was in elementary school. The girl who snuck out at all hours of the night to be with the boyfriend who was four years older than her. The one who blank-faced lied to her parents, cursed at her mother (a cardinal sin in my book), hit her little sister (that would be me), and did everything else she could to provoke. Why? Her biological father, a sociopath and a druggie, left when she was three. Not because her mother remarried to a good-hearted, Christian man who loved them both with his whole heart. And you think my parents had it easy?  Now this one riles me. With this post, "typical" parents are reduced to ignorant jerks. Just because someone is blessed doesn't mean that he or she doesn't sympathize with your situation! There are ignorant Philistines out there who think that autism is just faulty parenting, but you cannot judge everyone by the few morons.
  And this. That comment by j* made me so incredibly upset. "Typical" parents have it easy, huh? Why are "typical" parents so unhappy?
  Because, creep, we all live in the same devastating world with the same terrible problems. Do you want to know why my mama took "happy pills" for a while? I was eleven in 2005, but I remember the grief around me after my aunt died. She was my father's big sissy and my mother's best friend since school. That means they were friends for more years than I care to count.
  Same year, quite soon after my aunt's sudden death (in which she left behind four children, three of them minors, and many, many loved ones), my sister moved out. Eighteen, just graduated, and angry at the world, she barely came around the house anymore. She got a "roommate" named Jessica, and they later "came out." Now, she got over that phase relatively quick and went back to men, not that her choices with them were much better.  (Now, I love my sister, and she has really turned her life around.  I forgive her choices, and I know that God does too, so there is no more judgement here, only a stating of facts.)
  So all of this is going on, and my parents get some medication from their doctor. Because they're DEPRESSED. And, no, they don't have any autistic children. Do you still think your life is harder? Still think you have more stress?
  Thankfully, we have Jesus to level us out, but that doesn't mean that life is a cakewalk. This prejudice against "typical" people has me shaking with anger, just like almost all other prejudices will do to me. You have a right to your own opinion, but treat others around with the respect that all human beings deserve. That is the only way to ensure tolerance and a fair world, which we all long for, even if it is in secret

Day by day

  I haven't updated my... uh... the internet on anything lately.  So here's how my life is going.

  My sister's boyfriend of three years left her three days before their second child was born.  He was cheating on her.  After that devastation, my sister and her kids moved in with me (I live with my parents and little brother.) Now I have my big sis who I never get along with, my two-year-old niece, and my four-month-old nephew living on the bunk bed below me.  They also took over my desk for homework, so I write from my bed most of the time.

  I am no longer a dual-credit student in college.  I failed a computer class, and high school kids must make at least a C to stay in class.  When I graduate, I'll retake it; I need it for my AA.

My favorite writing snack.

  My book is coming along.  I mean, it's slow, but it's coming.  I work on short stories quite often, and I have a few novels in the works or in the idea stage, but my baby is always there.  The name is Redemption, and I've been working on it for about a year (though the plot, characters, and setting are nothing new in my writings; I just finally found the right combination).  I pray about it quite often, and I believe that this is the book God wants me to write.  We'll see if I have it figured out or not though.

It's like being a stay-at-home mom,
but the kids and home aren't mine!
Oh, and I don't usually cook.
Peachy, right? -_-

  So what is my average day?  Wake up anywhere from 7 (when my sister leaves for class and my mother for work) to 8, take care of my nephew.  He may or may not go back to sleep, and he may or may not be in that beautifully happy mood.  My niece sometimes sleeps late (I take the boy into the living room so as not to wake her), but more often, she gets up at around 8 or 8:30.  After that, my sister comes home at around ten, which is when I get to shower, and then she leaves for her three-hour class.  I spend the rest of the day getting my brother to do his school work, washing dishes/cleaning the kitchen (mama hates working, so I try to make her feel good by coming home to a clean house), reading, watching the kidlets, watching cartoons, reading webcomics, and writing when the mood gets me.  After my sister and parents get home, I'm usually free to go to my room and blog, write, or chat.  It's a hectic but ultimately rewarding life.

Buy them!

Seriously! Right now!

  I can't think of anything else.  Reading a lot of books (Jane Eyre, Havah, and The Priest's Graveyard are WIN), praying as often as I remember to, washing a ton of dishes, and texting all my family on AfE.

  So that's what my life is.  If you find any of that interesting, you are very awesome, and I hope we can be friends!

Something Called Writer's Block

  I wrote this last night.  I've had writer's block for about a month now, and this was an exploration of what that actually means.  In the words of my hero, "There is no such thing as writer's block.  There is only fear.  Fear of the unknown."  Ted Dekker is very right, but sometimes there are other things.  Like limitations.

  So here is my... thing. I hope you enjoy it because it is a glimpse into my mind.

Something Called Writer’s Block

The limits of my language are driving me insane.  There are no words to describe what I see and feel.  I can’t make my reader see what is inside my mind, the beautiful world that is tearing to reach the page.  How can I describe my passion, my love, my art?  How can I send my babies to you without explaining them?  I firmly believe that a story should say what it needs to itself, no notes from the author required.

But my characters are my children.

My setting is my home.

My plot is my world.

And my words are my life.

How can I describe that to you?  How can I take everything I am and put it down on a page?  Do I have to write it with blood to express my feelings in a way that language can’t?  Should I include pictures to show the rainbow of colors I see in my mind?  Here, there are colors that don’t exist in the “real” world.

I look at this world that my loving God created.  The beauty is beyond expression.  I feel like I’m going to explode because this body, this mind, cannot hold the emotions that rage through my soul.  I feel a pain I can’t quite describe because there are no simple terms for it.  It makes my heart cry in frustration, not in grief of anger.  It is a constant ache at the back of my mind all through the day, a sharp pain when I sit and stare at the computer screen or notepad.

Words are nothing.  Words are useless.  Words are my life.

I write and write and type and type, but nothing ever happens.  The world I see does not fit on the page.  I write what my characters say, but you don’t hear them speaking.  You can’t see what I see, and I don’t understand why.

We all see things differently, and some understand me when I try and fail to describe my view.  But no one sees it exactly as I do.

I’ll just keep writing those same words until I find the magic order that makes them tell the truth.  I will continue to describe beauty, passion, love, honor, truth, pain, glory, and light until my fingers bleed and beyond because I cannot stop.  Every word you read here is me.  Every time a character cries in grief, writhes in pain, or screams in anger, that is me.

My God, why is Your gift so often my curse?

Autism awareness

  I have been afraid for years that I have either Asperger's syndrome or a form of autism.  Well, "afraid" is a loose term for it.

  When I first thought, maybe, I wouldn't accept it.  After watching the movie Adam, I was terrified of having something wrong with me, and it still bothers me some.  Then, I made a friend (who's name, strangely, is also Adam), and he has Asperger's.  Now, I've come to accept the fact that it may not be a bad thing (plus, if it is true, I was born with it. Nothing has changed for me).  People with Asperger's, or "Aspies," as they're called, are usually extra intelligent, specializing in one area (for me, that's language).  I think I am an Aspie, but there are varying degrees of this syndrome.  Some don't experience as many side affects as others.

  I believe I have this syndrome because of the strange... things I do.  Or have been told that I do anyway.  Apparently, I take things completely literally (if you didn't mean it, why say it?), make noises in my throat or with my nose (these, I sometimes notice, and I hate when people point them out), am bothered my sounds like whistling (whistling. It's demonic music), and "stim," as it's called.  The noises I make are also a part of this, and stimming is just... something autistic people do.  Funny repetitive movements (you've seen the rocking on television, but there are many other kinds), noises, anything with a pattern or mentally stimulating.  I also have problems related to OCD, and mental disorders tend to go together.

  My problem now is that I have never been tested.  I've taken the online tests and made high scores, but those are just for fun really.  I want to see a psychiatrist so that I can finally now for sure whether I am an Aspie or not.  The problem is money and of course... asking my parents.  I know they would understand (my dad is very like me, so he may have it too), but I don't want to ask.  It's hard to explain.

  Until I've been tested, I don't want to call myself an Aspie or autistic.  Here's my reasoning:

  Has anyone ever told you that he or she had ADD or ADHD?  Did you believer him or her?  I give the benefit of the doubt, but I probably would not believe that person.

  If we degrade the term "autistic," no one will believe them either.  We'll have perfectly normal kids being treated for something they don't have while suffering children are being ignored and feeling very out of place (believe me, it's hard to understand why the world doesn't work the way you do).

  I think I have Asperger's syndrome.  But I refuse to say it for sure until I am tested because I wish to show respect to people who truly have problems.

Check out these to understand what parents or autistic kids deal with every day:

Autism Army Mom

Big Daddy Autism

And now for movies...

  I'm hugely into movies! I love eighties teen flicks, romantic comedies (mostly from the eighties), pretty much any fantasy, cult science fiction (though I do NOT cosplay), certain action films, and anything else with a good story. 

  I hate adult comedies, almost anything fraught with curses (the main exception is The Breakfast Club), and most science fiction movies. I firmly believe that any sci-fi needs more than two hours to give the fullness of its story. Star Wars, is one example; six movies! (I still need to watch those.) I do love the original Stargate movie, SG-1, and Atlantis.  Universe sucks though.

  But seriously, the eighties were the golden age. Music, movies, clothes (sometimes even the hair!), and etc. Most of the best romantic comedies are from the 80s-90s (Robert Downey Jr. people!).

  ~DISCLAIMER~ If you didn't know this already, I am homeschooled.  This means that no one TELLS me what's classic, what's incredible, and what's junk. I discover that on my own. Also, there will be spoilers in this.

  My most recent experiment with eighties flicks is Weird Science. I was never allowed to watch it, and I would never let a boy my age watch it, but I can take it now. Let's start with the music.

  Normally, when I turn on a movie, I expect music, but I don't really care. "Oh, yeah, some kind of... soundscape... New Age... what do they call that stuff?" Weird Science came on, the music started, and I went, "Oh! Eighties!" I love the good feeling that music gives me. Listen:

  Continue reading as you listen. Don't skip that song!

  Next, we'll talk about the acting. I already liked Anthony Michael Hall of Sixteen Candles and, more recently, The Dead Zone (television show adapted from the King novel), but this movie took him to an entirely new level. The drunk scene was one of the best I have ever seen in the movies, and I laughed so much. And then, surprise!, Robert Downey Jr. shows up! He's a school bully, a small part, but he is my favorite actor of all time. I love that guy so much.

  This is pretty quiet and only five seconds long, but it's one of the best parts of the entire movie:

  Now we'll get to the actual story. Everyone knows the plot because it's been ripped off so many times. Lonely teenage nerds build the perfect girl robot. But in this one, the original, robogirlfriend doesn't go insane and start killing people. Instead, she begins working on raising the boys' self esteem by sending challenges their way. Eventually, they meet the girls they truly want (the bullies' girlfriends) and spend the night with them. I would have liked it better if they had kissed and gone home, but it was still a good movie.

  Those are the big three: music, acting, and plot. Of course, I also care about dialogue (one of the reasons for my love of Joss Whedon), and Weird Science definitely had some quotable lines. This movie gets four stars from me, taking off one for the explicit language and ending.

  (But seriously, there's more than enough female nudity in this. Don't trust ratings; if it was made now instead of the 80s, it would have been rated R.)

Life is hard.

  Life is hard. Even for those of us who know this already, when life throws a punch and you go down hard, you realize it all over again. When you know that there are important things to be done, lives to be saved, souls to be won, the world can still knock you down and convince you to stay down. At least for a little while.

  The world, life, it can all pile up and press down on you until you collapse. Then what can you do? You lie there, looking up at the world, at the demons of your past, at those heavy things that are so hard, so pressing, and sometimes you just think Why?

  Some people would say I was wrong for thinking that, especially wrong for honestly writing it down, but I know we all think it from time to time. (If you truly don't, that's wonderful, and I do respect you for that.) There are times when the world crushes you, beats you down, and you can no longer breathe.

  After a while, however, you have to get back up and move on with life. You have to smile at your neighbors and live with your family and just be all right. Maybe you have to pretend, but know this: God is always there with you, and He can help you live day by day. Eventually, things will be better, but for now, you can only trust God and fake it. Doesn't sound so very fantastic, but it is the way the world works. Because there are things to do that are more important than you.

Children's songs

Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetop,

When the wind blows, the cradle will rock,

When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall,

And down will come baby,

Cradle and all.

Is anyone else bothered by this little song? Babies falling from trees? What kind of mother lets her baby rock in a tree in the first place? This song is just so messed up. Are all children's songs so screwed?

Playing "Ring Around the Rosy"

Ring around the rosy,

Pocket full of posy,

Ashes, ashes,

We all fall down.

Dude, this song is about the plague! A 'ring around the rosy' refers to the marks that infected people had on their bodies. 'Pocket full of posy' is from the belief that eating posies would make a person better. They burned the bodies, thus 'ashes, ashes', and can you guess the last one? Imagine a woman singing this in the town where her children have died. Not a children's song!

It's raining,

It's pouring,

The old man is snoring.

He went to bed,

And bumped his head,

And couldn't wake up in the morning.

An old man just died or at least got seriously hurt. Need I really say more? I suggest this little song instead:

Rain, rain, go away.

Come again some other day.

All God's children want to play.

Rain, rain, go away.

Solomon Grundy,

Born on Monday,

Christened on Tuesday,

Married on Wednesday,

Took ill on Thursday,

Grew worse on Friday,

Died on Saturday,

Buried on Sunday.

This is the end of Solomon Grundy.

*sigh.* Another song of death. I am not afraid of death because it is just a part of life, and it is not truly the end. All the same, I don't believe that children should sing about it.

One little, two little, three little Indians,

Four little, five little, six little Indians,

Seven little, eight little, nine little Indians,

Ten little Indian boys.

You may have heard this song, but do you know where it comes from?

Ten little Injuns standin' in a line,

One toddled home and then there were nine;

Nine little Injuns swingin' on a gate,

One tumbled off and then there were eight.

One little, two little, three little, four little, five little Injun boys,

Six little, seven little, eight little, nine little, ten little Injun boys.

Eight little Injuns gayest under heav'n.

One went to sleep and then there were seven;

Seven little Injuns cuttin' up their tricks,

One broke his neck and then there were six.

Six little Injuns all alive,

One kicked the bucket and then there were five;

Five little Injuns on a cellar door,

One tumbled in and then there were four.

Four little Injuns up on a spree,

One got fuddled and then there were three;

Three little Injuns out on a canoe,

One tumbled overboard and then there were two.

Two little Injuns foolin' with a gun,

One shot t'other and then there was one;

One little Injun livin' all alone,

He got married and then there were none.

Personally, I don't want my children singing these songs. They're not very nice when you actually think about them. I know there are more, but these are the ones that I could remember (of course, I had to look up some lyrics). Why don't we sing Jesus Loves Me or Teddy Bear Pincnic (so long as you don't sing the Angel version)? I like those songs.

Once Upon a Marigold...

There are many beautiful love stories in the world. From The Princess Bride to Ted Dekker's Immanuel's Veins to Dean Koontz's The Husband. Each one is a tale of fighting for your true love. They are all wonderful, but there is one that outshines them all. It is Jean Ferris's Once Upon a Marigold.

I always wanted to see the blue room of Ed's crystal cave.

This story begins with the finding of a small boy lost in the woods. The man who finds him is a troll named Edric, who has a tendency to use expressions wrong ("What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the eager beaver") and two dogs named Beelzebub and Hecate (Don't let the names scare you off; they're sweethearts). The boy, whose name is Christian, tells Ed that he ran away from home because there were too many rules. He says that he wants to be an inventor, so he has to be messy, and his parents didn't allow that. Though Ed wants to take him home, he doesn't know where that is and ends up adopting Christian as his unofficial son.

Christian grows up into an intelligent, brave young man. He learns from reading books, experimenting with things in the forest, and listening to Edric's teachings. A telescope is his only connection with the outside world, and he uses it to watch the castle past the forest and across the river. King Swithbert's castle. Looking through this telescope his entire life as he is growing up, Christian comes to know the royal family of that kingdom, even if they don't know him. He watches the beautiful triplets and their younger sister grow up, watches the older girls' joint wedding. They are his only friends besides Ed, Cate, Bub, and Hayes Centaur, King Swithbert's hunter. It isn't until Christian is a teenager that he decides to make contact by sending a carrier pigeon across the river to the youngest princess, who is reading while sitting on the wall around her castle. His first message simply says, What are you reading?

Princess Marigold is a lonely girl with a curse. If she touches anyone while she is upset, she will know what they are thinking. This has caused everyone in the world to grow distant, avoiding her touch, with the exception of her sweet old father, who has something like Alzheimer's. Other than the king, her only friends are Topsy, Mopsy, and Flopsy, her dogs. When she gets the message from across the river, she is thrilled and scared, but she sends one back. Greek Myths - Marigold.

With this, their correspondence begins. He signs every message with -C and tells her that he is nervous about giving his name. She doesn't really mind, though she is a little put off at first. Over time, they become each other's "bulwarks", as they say. Best friends.

Then comes the day that Christian decides to leave home and go out into the world. Where does he go? King Swithbert's castle to work as a servant. The princess doesn't know his name, and he is too nervous to approach her, worried that she will be appalled to find that her best friend is a servant boy. Still, they do meet, and he listens to her talk, something that no one ever does. Soon, she discovers who he really is, and he discovers something darker. A plot formed by the queen to marry off her daughter or kill her.

As Marigold is pressured to choose between an airhead and a dolt for marriage, her sisters and their husbands return home for the wedding, Christian is arrested as an enemy of the kingdom, and Edric (and the dogs!) is brought from his cave to the dungeons of the castle. The brave young man will have to rescue his princess from a forced marriage (or death), save her father from being poisoned, and build a contraption to do it all with. Between the dogs, the princesses, and the trolls, there is a deep and beautiful love story centered around the truth that marriage is a joining of best friends forever.

(I found this online. Pretty cool, huh?)

Topher Brink - Last one, I promise.

I swear, this blog will not be all about Topher Brink. I happen to obsess over things for a short while, go all out, and then move on to something else. So, in other words, bear with me because it will be over soon. If you're a guy, and you don't want to read about how much I love this one right now, you can just come back later when there's something better on.

Look, I know he's an evil scientist and all, but how do you hold a gun against a face like that? He is seriously handsome. 

At this point, the big boss of the Dollhouse has walked in, and Echo is pointing the gun at her. The chair is turned on, ready to imprint on Topher. And kill him. He explained already that if you imprint on a "fully-functional brain; it'll implode." He's terrified.

This is fan-made; I found it online. Cute, huh?

This is one of my favorite songs set to Topher and River Tam (yeah, her name is Bennett, but I refuse to call her that)! They didn't make a good couple, but it's a good video.

Okay, well, that's all for now. The next post will be about something else, really. I got it all out, and next I will review a book or something.

Dollhouse - Topher Brink

As all my friends know, I am a huge Joss Whedon fan. I have seen every episode of Angel, Firefly, and Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, some of them several times. Dollhouse will soon be on that list. Joss has a way of creating characters that stick with you. There are no 'bad guys' and 'good guys'. There are people who make bad choices and good choices, and there is always chance for redemption. Look at Angel's Wesley, Dollhouse's Topher, Firefly's Jayne... I am amazed by those shows.

Dollhouse characters

Recently, I have come to love Dollhouse. I have seen all of season 1 and started on the next, but I don't want to watch them all at once because I don't want to run out too soon. I love how the characters work like all Joss works: it starts off with two main characters (Paul and Echo), who are rounded by still a little flat. Then, it expands to take in all the characters, making them all round and dynamic. There is not a single static character, not even the 'Dolls'. One character in particular attracts me, as he is the very type that I like to write about. I call that type the 'wayward son'. This is Topher Brink.

Topher is a scientist. He is nerdy, funny, and likes to drink from juice boxes. In season 1, he is shown as an uncaring young man who works with the Dollhouse because he loves science. He never seems to consider that he is hurting people. Enter Alpha. Topher's greatest failure, his worst disappointment. He created a monster with his innocent little chair, a mass murderer and psychopath. Though it is not at first obvious, Topher is greatly distressed by this (though it seems that he is mostly terrified of becoming the next victim). He also expresses guilt over Whiskey's pain, and he made her a 'better person' than he is to repay her. Still, nothing here shows any kind of real emotion that can't be explained by self-love.

Echo and Topher "Needs"

Season 1, Episode 8: Needs. In this episode, Echo is given all her original personality with no memories of her past. What does she do? She finds Topher and threatens him with a gun, questioning him about where she is and what's going on. At one point, she asks him if it hurts when he wipes their memories with the chair. Topher's response: "Pain is just nerves talking to your brain." This was the first time I realized that he cared, not because of the words but because of the way he says them. It is obvious that this is a reassurance that he has given himself several times over the years, probably every time he hurts one of the Actives with the chair. "Pain is just nerves talking to your brain." He does not want to admit to himself that he hurt another human being and that it does mean something.

Sierra and Topher "Belonging"

There is only one more episode that I can consider because, as I said, I have not finished the show. This is season 2, episode 4: Belonging. It was such a shocking episode, in which Topher is heartbroken to discover that he did not save Sierra as he thought; he helped destroy her. He does what he thinks is right and sets her free, only to discover that she kills a man in anger. (Did he deserve it or not? That's a Joss thing, making you question). Somehow, Sierra contacts Topher, and he comes to rescue her. Boyd follows him and helps dispose of the body and keep the secret. As Topher is sitting there, covered in the dead man's blood, he's shivering and saying "I was just trying to help her. Now she's ruined." to which Boyd replies, "You had a moral dilemma. Your first. And it didn't go well." This shows how Topher is evolving, changing. He may make more terrible choices in the future, but this is a turning point for him.

One more thing about Topher: he is my type. When I am writing my own stories, I like the broken hero, and he strikes me as one of those. In real life, however, I see a very handsome, nerdy, funny guy with shaggy hair. This happens to be exactly what I am attracted too. I'm not going to go any further with this because I don't want to scare off any potential readers, but I love Topher as a character and a person (if he was real).

Topher quotes:

Topher: What's the word on this repeat client Sierra has been seeing?

Boyd: Why?

Topher: Something's bothering me about it. I have a hunch something's wrong. (off Boyd's smile) That's funny? That I have a hunch?

Boyd: That it's bothering you. - Belonging

Topher: How can you expect me to do this?

Adelle: You'll do it because you must. The cold reality is that everyone here was chosen because their morals have been compromised in some way. Everyone... except you. You, Topher, were chosen because you have no morals. You have always thought of people as playthings. This not a judgment. You always take very good care of your toys. But you're simply going to have to let this one go. - Belonging

Sierra: This secret we have... can you keep it?

Topher: I can keep it, but I don't know if I can live with it.

Sierra: I know I can't. But I don't have to. - Belonging

Claire Saunders: If you start playing with their meds, it could backfire or damage them...

Topher: Or solve the problem. I know what I'm doing, Doc.

Claire Saunders: So do I. But I also *care* what you're doing... to our pets. - Needs

Boyd: They're not bison, Topher.

Topher: They're a little bit bison! - Gray Hour (season 1, episode 4)