Ever wonder where your creativity comes from? I have, and I think I know the answer. My mom. She's not your typical creative type, I guess. No writing or drawing or anything like that. She's a teacher which requires creativity of a different kind. Planning lessons and stuff like that is hard work. And I think my creativity came from her because she never squashed my ideas. Instead, she was the fertile ground in which they could take root in and grow. You see, my mom loves to make things up, and I just carried it to a new level. She likes to play practical jokes on people and see what she can get them to believe (I do too), but I also create worlds brimming with characters (hopefully believable) and situations that unfold. Stories both, in their own ways. Who knows what I'd be without my mom's encouragement. An account? Eek! I'm going to go thank her now. . .

My hands hurt.

Too much writing makes Hollan a tired girl. Really. My wrists are killing me. I need to take a break for a couple of days, maybe. But I did post a link to a writing sample of mine from my YA fantasy novel "The White City." I know you want to check it out here! Enjoy ^_^

Keep Your Hands to Yourself!

They did it. Nothing I could do would stop them. So, I lit the candles and put on the Luther Vandross and watched the magic happen. I'm not sure if I'm going to keep the scene. It's only a first draft, after all. But I'll know what happened, and so will they. I wonder what kind of effect this will have on their relationship. I sure hope it makes the writing easier on me tomorrow. They put me through the wringer with all of their BS. Man!

*goes and makes a gin and tonic*