Look at the Stars, Look How They Shine for You...

She’s ten years old, and climbing up onto the roof of her house in Portugal to smoke her stolen cigarettes while her mother is downstairs holding another important party that she wants to show Em off at. And she’s in a dress that’s too fancy for a 10 year old, and too constricting, so she rips the hem and climbs up across the scalloped roofing, and traces the constellations with the cigarette in her hand; because even if her Da is dead and she’s a thousand miles away from where she was when he taught her to find the shapes in the stars, they’re the same stars and the same sky, somehow, and that always brings her comfort.


A few years later, she’s lying on the grass with Ian under that same sky, another few hundred miles away, and their fingers are lightly entwined. And while she’s trying to teach him the same constellations and tell him their stories, he only has eyes for her, and for her eyes glinting with joy and reflected moonlight and the freckles on her face that are like her own constellations he wants to map out, and her lips moving (and he really, really starts to feel like he wants to kiss her and oh, that’s a new feeling.)


And when she laughs at him for not paying attention at all, he wants to tell her that she’s so much more interesting than the star-shapes in the sky, but just as mysterious and hard to map, but he’d gladly spend a lifetime in the study of her.

So Light 'Em Up

Sometimes, she thinks, she can see the embers sparking under her nails as she drags them across soft skin, or cold stone.

If you catch her eyes in the right light, you might see more than the reflection of the flames. You’ll see them start to become the flames themselves. You might notice that there's no fire at all for them to reflect, but it's there anyway. 

Sometimes, she wonders if anyone else notices the flames licking at her skin, crawling up her spine; feels the heat around her, radiating from her, like she does. If they can feel the primal, consuming fire that’s always hovering just under her skin.

And she can always tell the exact instant that she sets someone else on fire, for better or worse. She can see the flames transfer, watch them begin to burn, and wonder if they know it, too. Some of them can handle it. Learn to adapt, can handle the heat, the ones that are already burning themselves. Some quench it. Some are set ablaze and burned up like a long extinct sun.

But at least she can say she’s never afraid of getting burned.
She’s already burning.

My Word(s) : Ian/Em Drabble

(For reference: So, I write a lot of fanfiction. I really don't care whatever 'stigma' it has, I love it, and it's easier for me to write it than anything original when I'm in a creative slump, because the world is already there, I just have my characters. I'm trying to get better about posting more of my writing here, and a lot of it will probably be excerpts from fanfiction, whether that's apparent or not. That being said, this particular story, and these particular two characters, Ian and Emily, are massively and singularly close to my heart. While their story is technically fanfiction, it barely feels that way anymore, cause the story is far more about THEM than it is about their world. Anywho, you'll probably see a lot of them, if you read. Just fyi.)


It actually takes him a couple of years to realize just how much she's become a part of his life. Takes him awhile to notice how she's seeped into every pore and every nook and cranny- places he didn't even know were empty until she was filling them.

By then he realizes it's actually odd to think of his life before her. Odder still, because the vast majority of his life has been Before Her, and yet that seems impossible. She's everywhere. She's everything.

He shakes his head at himself. They're pretty serious thoughts for 13, he knows. He knows they laugh at him, think he's being silly, naive, over-exaggerating, too young. He doesn't care. Doesn't care because they don't get it, they don't get her, don't get to have her,  and that's their loss.

They don't get to have her smile, or her laugh, or the way her impossible blue eyes glint wickedly when she's had a terrible (wonderful) idea. They don't get her freckles , or lying under the stars naming constellations with her hand brushing theirs just enough to raise gooseflesh and send their stomach swooping. They don't get the easy, quiet camaraderie they share that's as natural to the two of them as breathing or blinking.

They don't get her filling up the cracks in his life that he didn't even know were there. Even though she has more cracks and holes and gaping wounds than he can even dream up, somehow she still manages to fill him up.

Let them laugh. Let them think whatever they like. Their loss. His victory.

She was everything.


~~~
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Some Days

Some Days I have to put on makeup like warpaint
heading into a battle only I can see

Some Days just putting on clothes means I'm strapping on my armour
and a cheap Target t-shirt is my breastplate

And I realize, people don't think my makeup looks good
or my clothes are plain and I don't know how to dress, and that's fine
really, you may think I don't look good, I need help,

but it's my armour, and my warpaint and you don't have to like it.

My smile just might be the dagger to your heart.

Between the Pages: Warm Bodies

So. This book. This book was certainly not what I was expecting...at all. Honestly, I had picked it up as a free ARC at work, and since I knew the movie was coming out, I figured I would just give it a shot and see what it was all about.

I expected a silly, light-hearted, slightly cheesy 'romance' with zombies that I didn't think I'd really be able to take seriously. What I got, instead, was a surprisingly powerful glimpse into what it takes to hold on to hope and humanity, when humanity has been all but destroyed. What I got, instead, was a moving, strong, persistent message of that hope, of never giving up, and how love can change lives...maybe even the world.

Warm Bodies was gorgeously written by newcomer Marion, with prose that was poetic, liquid, natural and fitting the scenes he constructed. Yes, there are zombies, and yes, there is (surprisingly sweet, innocent) romance...the kind that makes you really root for it. There is also mystery, and fear, and tension...and life, and love, and hope and courage and faith.

In short, I didn't expect to be moved by this book. And maybe this is just me, taking away more from it than perhaps Marion meant for anyone to do. But it DID move me. And while bleak at times (I mean, c'mon, it's the zombie apocalypse,) I felt like the overall message here was how important it is to never lose our humanity, at our core. Our dreams, our hopes, our courage and joy and laughter...and how those things can triumph in the bleakest of times and circumstances.

I'm thrilled I gave this a chance, and I've heard he's writing a sequel which I'm excited to pick up.
5/5

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Beginnings...

Hello Internet!

A part of me needs this to be the perfect introductory post, but if we're being honest, I really don't have a clue what I'm doing. So, here goes nothing.

Hi. I'm Molly, a 23 (nearly 24, eek) year old living in Nevada (for now), working as a barista and trying to carve out the life we want with my husband. That life hopefully includes me being able to go back to college (I'm shooting for this fall,) eventually living in/around San Fransisco, making as much art as we can. We're both writers, and he's also a musician; I'm trying to be one, but it's slow going.

San Fransisco is my dream, but I realize it's also a very expensive dream, so we're just shooting for the Bay Area in general and seeing what happens. I'm attempting to go back to school in the fall, hopefully to get my AA in English...after that, who knows? I have no idea right now if I'll go on to a four year university and get a Bachelors, but I'm trying to take things a step at a time.

So, why even make this blog? I feel like I'm entering a new and significant chapter in my life, and it's one that makes me want to put myself out there and invest my time into creativity, writing, my passions, hopes and web content/media. I've spent many, many years with depression, anxiety, and fear, and together they've stolen a lot of time from me. Finally, I'm ready to take some time back, and not waste a second more. My husband and I both are ready to take the helm, more than we have for a long time, and make our dreams, hopes, desires and passions a reality.

This blog will be a place for me to express myself. Whether I post reviews of books, movies, music, etc... post snippets of my fiction writing, or simply write about my life, I'm hoping to use this as one platform to put myself out there and talk about things I'm passionate about. At some point I'll also be trying to make some videos, which I will upload on youtube and post here as well.

I'm new to this, so have patience with me, and I hope to find or create a supportive, passionate, creative community here, and on the web at large. Speaking of, you can find me lots of places, and you're more than welcome to add/follow/friend me wherever you find me.

Until next time, with love,
Molly xo

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