Can Cameron find what he’s looking for?All 16-year-old Cameron wants is to get through high school—and life in general—with a minimum of effort. It’s not a lot to ask. But that’s before he’s given some bad news: he’s sick and he’s going to die. Which totally sucks. Hope arrives in the winged form of Dulcie, a loopy punk angel/possible hallucination with a bad sugar habit. She tells Cam there is a cure—if he’s willing to go in search of it. With the help of a death-obsessed, video-gaming dwarf and a yard gnome, Cam sets off on the mother of all road trips through a twisted America into the heart of what matters most.
Fourteen-year-old Karl Stern has never thought of himself as a Jew. But to the bullies at his school in Naziera Berlin, it doesn't matter that Karl has never set foot in a synagogue or that his family doesn't practice religion. Demoralized by relentless attacks on a heritage he doesn't accept as his own, Karl longs to prove his worth to everyone around him.So when Max Schmeling, champion boxer and German national hero, makes a deal with Karl's father to give Karl boxing lessons, Karl sees it as the perfect chance to reinvent himself. A skilled cartoonist, Karl has never had an interest in boxing, but as Max becomes the mentor Karl never had, Karl soon finds both his boxing skills and his art flourishing.But when Nazi violence against Jews escalates, Karl must take on a new role: protector of his family. Karl longs to ask his new mentor for help, but with Max's fame growing, he is forced to associate with Hitler and other Nazi elites, leaving Karl to wonder where his hero's sympathies truly lie. Can Karl balance his dream of boxing greatness with his obligation to keep his family out of harm's way?
Once upon a time, I was a little girl who disappeared.
Once upon a time, my name was not Alice.
Once upon a time, I didn’t know how lucky I was.When Alice was ten, Ray took her away from her family, her friends her life. She learned to give up all power, to endure all pain. She waited for the nightmare to be over.
Now Alice is fifteen and Ray still has her, but he speaks more and more of her death. He does not know it is what she longs for. She does not know he has something more terrifying than death in mind for her.
This is Alice’s story. It is one you have never heard, and one you will never, ever forget.
What do you want from me?" he asks. What I want from every person in my life, I want to tell him. More.
Abandoned by her mother on Jellicoe Road when she was eleven, Taylor Markham, now seventeen, is finally being confronted with her past. But as the reluctant leader of her boarding school dorm, there isn't a lot of time for introspection. And while Hannah, the closest adult Taylor has to family, has disappeared, Jonah Griggs is back in town, moody stares and all.
In this absorbing story by Melina Marchetta, nothing is as it seems and every clue leads to more questions as Taylor tries to work out the connection between her mother dumping her, Hannah finding her then and her sudden departure now, a mysterious stranger who once whispered something in her ear, a boy in her dreams, five kids who lived on Jellicoe Road eighteen years ago, and the maddening and magnetic Jonah Griggs, who knows her better than she thinks he does. If Taylor can put together the pieces of her past, she might just be able to change her future.
My father took one hundred and thirty two minutes to die.
It happened on the Jellicoe Road. The prettiest road I’d ever seen, where trees made breezy canopies like a tunnel to Shangri-La. We were going to the ocean, hundreds of kilometres away, because I wanted to see the ocean and my father said that it was about time the four of us made that journey. I remember asking, “What’s the difference between a trip and a journey?” and my father said, “Narnie, my love, when we get there, you’ll understand,” and that was the last thing he ever said.
We heard her almost straight away. In the other car, wedged into ours so deep that you couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. She told us her name was Tate and then she squeezed through the glass and the steel and climbed over her own dead – just to be with Webb and me; to give us her hand so we could clutch it with all our might. And then a kid called Fitz came riding by on a stolen bike and saved our lives.
Someone asked us later, “Didn’t you wonder why no one came across you sooner?”
Did I wonder?
When you see your parents zipped up in black body bags on the Jellicoe Road like they’re some kind of garbage, don’t you know?
It's funny how you can forget everything except people loving you. Maybe that's why humans find it so hard getting over love affairs. It's not the pain they're getting over, it's the love.
I know there’s a lot of dancers and performers here on Blogger so hopefully you will all enjoy this!
Events will include local celebrations at participating Six Flags parks across the country. There are three different routines you can learn if you’d like to go dance at a local Six Flags!
Can’t go to Six Flags but still want to participate? You can upload your dance to The National Dance Day Facebook page!
So choose a routine and get dancing! I know some of you are thinking,”Paige, I can’t dance!”
Yes you can! Everyone can dance! It’s about passion, and if you love it, you can do it! The dance videos are different levels also, so even if you've had no experience, you can still learn one!
Lalala. I was asked to write a blog post. Hey guys, confession?
I don’t know how to write a blog post!
I’m supposed to write something about reading/writing/editing, so here goes! Here are my tips for writer’s block!
-Title trouble: Where you want to name your project, but you just don’t know how!
Try not to use a character’s name in the title. Part of the fun in opening up a book is figuring out the main character’s name! What’s the fun in that if you give it straight up?
If you don’t have a title in mind and you think you absolutely have to have one, guess what? You don’t. Keep writing. A title might restrict your writing to narrow-mindedly follow certain ideas. Write as much as you can before naming a project, or just give it a temporary one. Sometimes, you may like it enough to make it your actual one.
-General writer’s block trouble: Where you need to finish the story, but you don’t know how to.
Read everything you’ve written so far. Thoroughly read it and refresh yourself of what has already been established. Move forward from there.
If that doesn’t work, maybe one of your characters is causing a problem because you don’t know enough about him/her yet. Fill out a character chart for him/her. There are lots of them out there! Force yourself to fill out every single blank. Don’t hesitate. If you don’t know the answer, make one up. If you really have to, change it later. But if you can, fill the chart out and stick to it.
This is actually the best one. Get in the shower. Forget everything else. Just take a nice, hot, long shower. Showers are the best places to come up with ideas. Usually, this is a great way to figure out how to continue with rising action, climax, and falling action business. If anything, it gives you a break and allows you time to think and release some stress, so it won’t harm you in any way to try this.
Sometimes what you really need to cure writer’s block is a break from that particular project. Maybe not from writing itself, but sometimes it’s best to leave a story alone for a while. It could be a day, a week, a month, or even six months. It all depends on the story itself. Trust yourself to finish it eventually. Leave it somewhere where you’ll still see it once in a while, but don’t touch it. You might be surprised what you go through during that time and subconscious ideas that may come to you.
Save this for last resort. If you really have absolutely no clue whatsoever as to what to do, find someone you trust and ask him/her to read everything you have so far and give you their opinion on what you should do next. Then find several other people and do the same. Maybe they’ll suggest something you like, maybe they won’t. But if they don’t suggest something you like, this might be a good time to figure out where you really want to go and to go with it.
In all honesty, no one can tell you how to write your story. Everyone has their own ways to overcome writer’s block. These are just little things you can do instead of throwing everything in the trash can like every writer wants to sometimes. Save everything, even the junk. You may get to use it someday!
Hoping this is of lots of use to you all,
My name is Chloe Smith. The day I turned sixteen my life changed forever. As a child I couldn’t wait until the day I turned sixteen. I imagined myself cruising down the highway with my best friends, top down, music blasting. My dad promised that the day I turned sixteen he’d give me my first driving lesson. Boy do I wish he hadn’t.
My birthday came and went in a blur. When I woke up, excitement was all I could feel. I felt like I was going to burst. The day I was waiting to come for so long was finally here. I got out of bed and went downstairs where my mom and older sister Chelsea were downstairs making breakfast.
“Happy birthday Chloe!” my mom and Chelsea said in unison.
“Thanks,” I said, already smiling ear to ear.
“We made you your favorite, chocolate chip pancakes with whipped cream,” mom said.
“Yeah, we worked our asses off, so you better eat before it gets cold.” Chelsea announced.
“No, not yet, Dad went out to get you a coffee. Wait until he gets back.” mom says.
My mom never let me drink coffee. She claims that no good can come of someone addicted to caffeine. On the other hand, I loved coffee. Since the day I turned 13, practically every time we passed the local coffee shop, Crazy 4 Coffee. I would ask. After awhile she declared I could have coffee as a treat, only on birthdays and holidays. Although, that doesn’t mean that every time I’m with Mandy, my best friend since I was five, we don’t stop at Crazy 4 Coffee, for our regulars. Me, I always got an iced medium French vanilla, extra extra. Mandy always got a small mocha.
“Okay that’s cool,” I said, trying to hide my excitement. Apparently I failed though , because Chelsea then said. “You’re grinning like that just for a coffee? Wait until you see your present. Then at least you have a reason to get excited.”
“Shut up. Who cares if I’m happy? I’m finally sixteen!”
“Yes, you are, and honestly do you feel any different then you did yesterday, when you were still fifteen?”
Truthfully, I didn’t, but I knew I would soon, when I was out on the road with my dad, finally. So I just said “Yes, actually I do.”
“Whatever.” Chelsea is 18, and just graduated from high school. She thinks she knows everything. Of course it doesn’t help that she has been a straight A student since kindergarten. Or that she got a full scholarship to Harvard Law, where she is planning on eventually becoming a DA. Whatever. School was never really my strongest point. I’m not saying I’m stupid or anything, I pulled a solid B average in all my classes. Not that I don’t think school’s important. Of course it is, if you’re planning to be a doctor, or a lawyer, or a scientist, or something else to that effect. Seriously though, who needs to know the square root of pi, or Newton’s 3 Laws of Motion, to be what I want to be… a dancer.
I started dancing when I was three years old, and from the very first day I loved it. I loved the feeling of being free, not having a care in the world. All you need to worry about is keeping beat with the music and not missing a step. Even from a young age my parents and instructors saw the potential I had, so I started competing. I loved the sense of accomplishment I felt when I won, or made it to nationals. I felt like I finally found my purpose, something I was good at that my sister couldn’t take from me. She had her grades, I had dance.
When my dad got home we all ate down and had breakfast. I was too anxious wondering what Chelsea meant by “when you see your present at least you’ll have a reason to freak out,” to even enjoy it though.
“Can I please be excused?” I asked.
“Not until you finish those pancakes,” mom said.
“Come on pal, finish the breakfast, then we can get to the fun part of day,” he said grinning at me.
“Fine,” I complained. I finished every bite. Well at least Chelsea will be happy.
“Ready for presents?” my dad asked. You could hear the enthusiasm in his voice.
“Well it’s about time!” I said, laughing.
“Well first I got you this,” my dad said. He was holding a small white jewelry box. I took it out of his hand, and opened it. Inside was a silver necklace. On it was a small delicate ballet slipper. I didn’t hesitate to put it on right away.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you”
“You’re welcome. Come on your other presents from your mom and I is outside.”
“Outside?” what could it be? Surely it wouldn’t be car. I dismissed that thought quickly. No way, I couldn’t get my license for another six months. Sure enough, in the driveway way a brand new red Honda Civic.
“No way!!” I squealed. Words couldn’t even describe how I felt. Since I was turning sixteen, I kind of expected my parents to go overboard. When my sister turned sixteen, they sent her and her best friend Melissa to New York City for a weekend. But a car… and none the less my dream car, that was just crazy.
“Oh my god!!! Thank you thank you thank you!!!” I all but shrieked as I ran over to hug my parents.
“Ready to take it out pal?” my dad asked.
“Now Jim, can’t you wait a little later, we have the whole day for that,” my mom said in her stern voice.
“Nonsense Kathy, Chloe’s been waiting sixteen years for this,” dad replied.
“Fine, but I want you guys back within the hour,” mom said.
“Kayy… thank you so much!!!” I answered.
“No problem sweetie,” mom said.
I got in the car and everything felt surreal. The new car smell, the leather interior, it all felt like a dream. Dad taught me the basics a few weeks ago; all that was left was to get moving. So when my dad got in the passenger seat I adjusted the mirrors, put on my seatbelt, put the key in the ignition, put the car in drive, and off we were. I was finally doing what I’ve been waiting for all these years.
“Good job Chloe, you’re doing great,” my dad would say every now and then. Everything was just as I imagined. I would even say it was perfect. This was the best birthday ever and it was only going to get better from here. That was until the accident. The accident that changed my life.
Duh duh duh.... LOL.
Isn't it amazing how much we can grow as writers in such a short period of time?
For Erin Blackwell, majoring in creative writing at the New York Citycollege of her dreams is more than a chance to fulfill her ambitions--it's her ticket away from the tragic memories that shadow her family's racehorse farm in Kentucky. But when she refuses to major in business and take over the farm herself someday, her grandmother gives Erin's college tuition and promised inheritance to their maddeningly handsome stable boy, Hunter Allen. Now Erin has to win an internship and work latenights at a coffee shop to make her own dreams a reality. She should despise Hunter . . . so why does he sneak into her thoughts as the hero of her latest writing assignment?Then, on the day she's sharing that assignment with her class, Hunter walks in. He's joining her class. And after he reads about himself in her story, her private fantasies about him must be painfully clear. She only hopes to persuade him not to reveal her secret to everyone else. But Hunter devises his own creative revenge, writing sexy stories that drive the whole class wild with curiosity and fill Erin's heart with longing. Now she's not just imagining what might have been. She's writing a whole new ending for her romance with Hunter . . . except this story could come true.
Olivia, Kelly, Christopher, Jason, and Eva have one thing in common: They’re addicts. Addicts who have hit rock bottom and been stuck together in rehab to face their problems, face sobriety, and face themselves. None of them wants to be there. None of them wants to confront the truths about their pasts. But they’ll all have to deal with themselves and one another if they want to learn how to live. Because when you get that high, there’s nowhere to go but down, down, down.
Things in Delilah Hannaford's life have a tendency to fall apart.She used to be a good student, but she can't seem to keep it together anymore. Her "boyfriend" isn't much of a boyfriend. And her mother refuses to discuss the fight that divided their family eight years ago. Falling apart, it seems, is a Hannaford tradition.Over a summer of new friendships, unexpected romance, and moments that test the complex bonds between mothers and daughters, Delilah must face her family's painful past. Can even her most shattered relationships be pieced together again?Rich with emotion, Sarah Ockler delivers a powerful story of family, love, and self-discovery.
Anna was looking forward to her senior year in Atlanta, where she has a great job, a loyal best friend, and a crush on the verge of becoming more. So she's less than thrilled about being shipped off to boarding school in Paris--until she meets Étienne St. Clair. Smart, charming, beautiful,Étienne has it all... including a serious girlfriend.
But in the City of Light, wishes have a way of coming true. Will a year of romantic near-misses end with their long-awaited French kiss? Stephanie Perkins keeps the romantic tension crackling and the attraction high in a debut guaranteed to make toes tingle and heart melt.
The Cruise part was awesome. Great food. Fun activities. And the entertainment was AMAZING. The production cast could've been on Broadway. They had a show called Bollywood and the dancing was incredible. A magician from Vgas had a show one night, and there was a comedian who was freaking hilarious.
Bermuda itself was amazing. The color of the water was beautiful. Though I feel kind of jipped when it comes to the pink sand beaches. I didn't see no pink sand beaches! We went to Horseshoe Bay, and the sand had tiny pink particles in it, but I was expecting legit pink sand.
But you wanna know what WAS pink? The buses:
Incase you didn't know, Bermuda is British Territory. Meaning that the cars drove on the other side of the road. And the steering wheels are on the opposite side of the car. It's so weird! And those buses were crazy! Does Bermuda have a speed limit? There were so many sharp turns, I was convinced we were going to crash into something. And being on the other side of the road threw everything off too.
After it all, I got a sweet T-shirt that says "I Survived the Pink Bus."
As well as a pink bus piggy bank that totally matches my room xD.
But anyways, here are a few more pictures: