House of Dominic

“Let’s knock on Dominic’s house,” the girl said.

“No way!” shouted her friends in unison.

The girl glowered at the rag-tag group of fake monsters before her. There was a ghost, a reaper, a spider queen, and a guy dressed as a banana. The girl was wearing a red hood and rubber fangs in her mouth. It was Halloween.

“You don’t actually believe that stupid story, do you?” she sneered.

“It’s not a story,” the banana said, “He’s a vampire and you know it.”

“So? I’m a vampire too, see?” She flashed her fake fangs at him and hissed. He clutched his bucket of candy closer to himself. She snorted.

The girl had seen Dominic once before at a party at a friend’s house. He was tall, with dark blue eyes and hair dyed a brilliant orange. She’d tried flirting. He wasn’t the least bit interested.

“Come on guys,” the girl pleaded. “You have me, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could turn us into actual monsters!” the spider queen squeaked.

“That’s awesome!” the girl said. “Don’t you want to be an actual spider queen and not some nerd in a flimsy, overrated costume?”

When the spider queen didn’t answer, the girl added self consciously, “Well, I want you to.”

She tapped her foot and glared at her group, daring them to argue any further. The spider queen was staring at the ground, her fingers gripped tightly around her bag of sweets.

The girl smiled triumphantly. “Good. Let’s go then.”

They shuffled through the nighttime neighborhood, sometimes calling out to familiar trick-or-treaters they passed by, trading pieces of candy, commenting on each other’s costumes. The girl was always tapping her foot impatiently and urging them to move on.

At one point, they passed a group of seven Narutos who performed their Shadow Clone Jutsu to anyone who would listen. One of them asked the group where they were going.

“To Dominic’s,” the girl replied haughtily.

All seven Narutos gasped. “The bloodsucker’s place? For real?”

“He’s worse than Orochimaru!” one of them shouted.

The girl looked down her nose at them. “I don’t know who this Roach-maru is, but he’s not stopping me from my trick or treating.” Then she leaned her face closer to the Narutos and they all leaned back and she said, in a low voice, “Are you?”

“No ma’am!”

“Look, I think I see someone in a Sasuke costume!” one Naruto shouted and they all ran off as fast as they could.

Several minutes later, the girl and her group stood in the shadow of the house. Everyone knew that the house was painted white but when the sun set and the sky became dark, the house seemed to turn black. It did not turn pale when the moonlight hit it; rather, it gave off a kind of dark, polished gleam. The girl noticed a faint glow through the curtains in one of the windows on the second floor. Her heartbeat quickened.

She started up the front steps. The ghost followed after her. The banana and the reaper exchanged a glance, hesitating, but shrugged in their manly way, and did the same. The spider queen was the last to move.

The girl approached the door. It looked ordinary enough, no bloodstains or gore dripping off the doorknob. She found the ordinary doorbell and pressed it like she had so many times before.

The house was still. Behind the girl, the banana was holding his breath, watching the door with the spider queen behind him, blocking herself from the house. The reaper looked around at nothing in particular while the ghost rummaged through his bag of candy, categorizing them and determining which ones he was missing.

The girl began tapping her foot impatiently. No sound came from inside the house. She leaned in and put her ear to the door.

It opened. The banana screamed.

“Trick or treat!” he hollered, squeezing his eyes shut.

The whole street seemed to echo with the sound of his voice. Slowly, he opened one eye. The girl rolled her eyes at him. The reaper elbowed his friend and snickered.

A tall figure stood at the doorway, draped in a long, ragged, pure white cloth. Her hair was silver and white and though she had wrinkles in her face, she was still strikingly beautiful. She smiled sweetly at the banana.

“Sorry if I startled you. Ghosts aren’t supposed to make much noise,” she said.

“N-no problem!” stammered the banana, then he stopped. “Ghost?

The woman nodded. “Yes. I’m a ghost.”

“She means her costume, idiot,” the girl snorted at him. “Trick or treat!” she added nicely to the woman.

The woman seemed surprised. “Oh of course! I don’t have the candy with me right now- not many people knocked- I’ll go get it. Why don’t you kids come inside? It’s chilly out there.”

“Go inside?” the spider queen repeated but the woman was already heading into the living room.

The girl took off her shoes and stepped into the house. The ghost was reaching for his own shoes when the reaper stopped him.

“Shouldn’t we think about this?” he said uncertainly. “We’re going into a stranger’s house.”

The girl turned. “It’s Dominic’s house,” she whispered. “Who get’s invited into Dominic’s house? That woman must’ve been his relative or something.”

“Still,” the reaper insisted. “Stranger danger.”

“You’re such an L.”

Without waiting for a reply, the girl followed the woman inside with the ghost at her heels. The reaper stared helplessly after them.

“Those two are crazy,” said the banana. He slipped off his sneakers.

“Have you gone crazy too?” said the reaper as the banana stepped through the doorway.

“We walked this far,” he shrugged. “I’m not leaving without some candy.”

Sighing, the reaper turned to the spider queen. She stood at the edge of the steps, staring into space with wide eyes.

“We might as well. I guess it is cold out here,” he said.

The spider queen was silent.

There was a fire burning in the living room and a sweet smell drifted from the kitchen. The woman told them to wait a moment and headed up the stairs to find the candy.

The girl sat by the fire and stretched out her hands, enjoying the heat. She glanced at her friends.

“Don’t look so tense, guys,” she said. “It’s only Dominic’s house.”

“That is precisely why I’m eager to leave as soon as possible,” said the reaper. He did not go near the fire.

They waited silently in the living room, listening to the ticking of the clock, the sweet smell from the kitchen wafting between them. It smelled like muffins but not quite. The banana’s mouth watered.

Finally, the girl stood and grumbled, “What’s taking this woman so long?”

She marched to the bottom of the flight of stairs. The steps led up to the second floor but were engulfed in shadow before she could see to the top.

“Hello?” she called, tapping her foot again.

No one answered. The girl waited a moment but there was no sound from the second floor.

She turned to her friends and announced, “I’m going up there. Anyone else want to come with me?”

The reaper threw up his hands. “Yep, she’s lost it.”

The ghost, to no one’s surprise, rose from his seat on the floor and shuffled forward, ignoring the glare from the reaper.

“You can’t be serious,” he said. “We’ve already entered a stranger’s house. Now you’re going to go upstairs?”

“What if Dominic’s up there?” the banana said unsteadily.

“If you want to leave, go ahead,” the girl retorted. “But I’m going to find that woman.”

She and the ghost climbed the stairs two by two. As the banana watched them disappear into the shadows, he felt something twitch inside him.

“Wait for me!” he yelped and ran up the stairs.

There was not a single light on the second floor. The banana reached the top of the stairs and looked around desperately, straining his eyes for any movement. The girl and the ghost were just here a moment ago. He thought about going back downstairs, but without the girl’s confidence, he was just too afraid.

“Where are you guys?” he called and headed blindly into the darkness.


The girl and the ghost had been walking for some time. They groped along the wall of a corridor that seemed too long to be possible. There were no windows in the hallway and no doors. The only noise in the house was the sound of their quiet footsteps shuffling down the hall.

“This house can’t be that big,” the girl whispered. The ghost didn’t reply.

After a few more minutes of walking, the girl was beginning to feel uneasy.

“Maybe we should go back,” she said, turning to the ghost.

He wasn’t there.

“Hey!” The girl looked around frantically but there was no way she could see through the dark.

“This is no time to be playing hide and seek!” she said crossly. “Let’s go home.”

No answer. The girl hesitated, then, with a deep breath, stretched out her hands and left the comfort of the wall.

She walked forward cautiously, feeling around for any objects in her way. Her fingers brushed against a desk and she crouched down to look behind it.

Something cold brushed her back and the girl straightened and whirled around.


Then a soft light caught her eye.

A shape stood at one end of the corridor, glowing and pulsing, standing- no, floating– there. It’s light illuminated the hall and when the girl looked back, there was no desk.

The shape had legs and arms and seemed oddly familiar.

“Oh, Miss, there you are!” the girl called to the woman.

But when she focused on its face, her breath caught in her throat. For face of the ghost was still and pale and three bleeding black holes had replaced his eyes and his mouth. It was not the woman; it was the ghost.

He drifted forward, slowly. The girl took a step back, then another, unable to tear her gaze away from the deep punctures in his face.

“What happened to you,” she whispered. The ghost kept drifting towards her.

“Billy?” she said the ghost’s name. “Billy, it’s me. Stop it, it’s not funny!”

The ghost drew nearer.

“Stop! I mean it!”

He only moved faster.

The girl ran. She tore down the hall. The ghost’s faint eerie light illuminating a corner and she turned down the next hallway and kept running. The girl sprinted with all her might but the soft light remained in the corner of her eye and the chill sent shivers through her neck. She made a right and a left and a curious thought flashed in her mind; how could the house fit so many corridors? She answered herself; it was not an ordinary house.

Then the girl spotted a door and yanked it open. It looked like a closet and she squeezed herself behind a stack of boxes and shut the door.

She waited. There was no movement outside. The darkness pressed against her and she huddled in a tight ball.

Gradually, an eerie light came into view and seeped through the crack underneath the door. The girl hugged her knees closer to herself as the light passed the closet and grew fainter, until she was thrown into darkness again.

She stayed still for a few long seconds before exhaling with a sigh. For several minutes, the girl sat there, in the closet, waiting for her heart to calm down, clenching her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. She lowered her face into her arms and began to cry.

The girl sobbed and tried to muffle it as much as she could with her hands for fear something in the dark would hear her. She sobbed and buried her face in her arms, letting all the terror and regret out through her tears. She did not know how long she sat there; she kept sobbing until her eyes were too dry to cry anymore. Then she wiped her cheeks with the cape of her red hood.

Staring at the door of the closet, the girl swallowed and straightened. Calming herself with deep breaths, she opened the door an inch and peered outside.

Dark. No sign of the ghost.

The girl crept through the house, staying close to the wall, her eyes wide and all her senses awake. Twice, she thought she stepped on something and nearly cried out. It was far too quiet.

Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness as she turned corner after corner in the endless maze of hallways. There was a smell in the air, something she’d smelled before and recently.

“The muffins,” she breathed.

The girl followed the scent, quickening her pace as it grew stronger, keeping one hand trailing along the wall. If she followed the smell of the muffins, it would lead her downstairs to the kitchen and she could escape. Soon she broke into a run and felt something crunch under her feet. The girl slowed down, wondering how old the house must be for the floorboards to crack.

She sniffed the air. It still smelled like muffins and something else too. The girl frowned. It couldn’t be.

She heard a soft thud in front of her. The girl squinted through the darkness and saw something flop into view. Then another flopped down next to it and another and the sweet smell of bananas hit her nose.

The thing reached a tentacle at her and, once again, she ran.

A few turns later, she came at a crossroads. Two hallways intersected each other and ended in shadow. The smell of bananas was faint behind her- she’d outrun it- but it was still there. She imagined the thing crawling closer to her by the second.

Without thinking, the girl took the left hallway and ran on, her heart pounding in her chest. She silently thanked her cross country coach for all those practice laps he’d made her do. If she was going to escape, she’d have to keep running.

She turned a corner and slammed into something hard.

“Hey!” a voice yelped and the object stumbled backwards.

The girl narrowed her eyes and backed away in surprise. It was the reaper.

He blinked at her. “Oh, it’s you! I’ve been walking around for hours trying to find you guys!”

He was holding a staff with a curved blade at the end in one hand. The reaper held it out to show her.

“Look! I found this scythe in a storage room and it fits perfectly with my costume. Don’t you think?” He tilted his head and smiled at the girl.

Something wasn’t right about him.

“Stay away,” the girl warned.

The reaper’s smile didn’t change. “Is there something wrong?”

She stepped back. “I don’t know who you are or what exactly is happening, but stay away.”

The reaper raised his scythe. “What are you talking about?”

A faint glow was coming from around the corner behind him. The girl peered past the reaper and her heart skipped a beat when she saw an eerie shape drift into view. The ghost was back.

The reaper saw the expression on her face and turned to look. In that split second, the girl turned and sprinted in the opposite direction. The ghost’s light filled the hallway. She reached the intersection in record time and saw, from the corner of her eye, a dark tentacle from the corridor she had first come from. She ran past without hesitation, leaving the sweet banana smell behind.

All her friends were gone. The house had turned them into monsters, real monsters who would not hesitate to gut her and turn her into one of them. The girl shuddered as she ran. She wasn’t going to let the house catch her. If she escaped, she could still get help and maybe save her friends.

She remembered the spider queen. There was no way she could’ve followed them upstairs, she was too timid. What if she was still alive, waiting for them in the kitchen? But the house would’ve gotten her by now. It was unlikely she put up much resistance.

The girl shook her head. There had been light in the kitchen. There was still hope that the spider queen was her normal self.

The girl ran on, kept running until she could run no longer. Her lungs stung and her legs were so sore, she could barely stand. She hadn’t heard any pursuing footsteps and slowed to a walk, keeping one hand on the wall like before. She sniffed the air. No bananas.

At one point she walked past a door and halted, frowning. It was the door of the closet she’d hid in when escaping the ghost. The girl thought for a moment. If a zombie were to attack her in her current state, she would barely be able to outrun it. She rubbed her eyes. Her legs were shaking.

The girl opened the closet and stepped inside. Something crunched under her foot.

Suddenly, voice hissed at her from the darkness.

“You killed it,” it whispered. The girl jumped at the sound. It was a soft, distant voice, echoing in her ears. It was coming from the closet.

“You killed so many,” it said. “I will make you pay.”

Something itched on her foot and she shook it frantically, dislodging the small black shape of a spider from her leg. The girl’s eyes widened as the spider hit the floor. And a black sea of crawling legs poured from the closet and pounced at her.

She staggered backwards, tripping on her cape, as the writhing mass seethed around her feet. She leaped as far away as she could, feeling bodies crunch as she landed and ran. The spiders followed, crawling along the walls, giving chase until they were on either side of the girl.

The spiders rained down on her; in her hair, on her face, all over the girl. She fought, she smashed, she stomped on them but there were too many. At the last minute, she reached out a hand in a desperate attempt to get away before she was buried in a twisting, black mob.


“Why can’t we just eat her?”

“She’s your friend, is she not?” Dominic said, glancing briefly at the banana.

The giant banana peel drooped a little. “Well, not exactly.”

Dominic gave him a quizzical look and turned to the spider queen. “When will she wake up?”

The spider queen was stroking the black widow perched on her shoulder. “Any moment know,” she said in her quiet, whispery voice. “She killed so many,” she added softly.

“Humans panic easily,” Dominic reasoned. He watched the girl curled asleep on the ground.

Her eyes fluttered. Groaning, the girl sat up, rubbing her head, wincing a little. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and blinked.

The girl saw Dominic and scrambled backwards.

You!” she shrieked. She saw the spider queen standing next to him and her eyes grew wide. “Oh no.”

The reaper was sitting in a chair with his scythe leaned on a table. The ghost drifted lazily around the room, lost in thought, his hollow eyes staring. The girl’s gaze rested on the banana. In the place of the boy she’d known before was a mutant banana peel. What she had originally thought of as tentacles were actually the individual peels. The banana stood of four of these peels like an octopus. He did not have a face.

“Oh no, no, no,” the girl breathed. She glared at Dominic. “What did you do.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Dominic answered calmly. “The house did.”

The girl stared at him.

“Well, I have to admit we got a pretty nice turnout this year,” he shrugged. “Now then. What do you say we turn those rubber fangs of yours into real ones?”




Dense Circle (Warriors Cats fanfic)

       Goldenpaw kept low the ground, careful to keep her tail still and above the leaves. The trees cast shadows across the undergrowth and in the distance, the horizon was beginning to turn pink

       Goldenpaw crept forward, picking her way over twigs and fallen branches. The smell of mouse filled her nose and made her mouth water, but she forced her hunger down. ThunderClan came first, she could eat later.

        Goldenpaw concentrated on her prey and bunched her muscles together. With a triumphant yowl, she leapt into the air and trapped the mouse between her claws, squeezing the life out of it. She gave it a quick nip of the throat and it lay limp on the ground at her paws.

“Nice one, Goldenpaw!”

         Goldenpaw turned to see her littermate Flashpaw emerging from a bush, dragging a large squirrel. Behind him, their mentors Bloomtail and Rainpelt followed, Bloomtail with a fat shrew dangling from her mouth and Rainpelt carrying a couple of mouse tails.

          Bloomtail set her catch on the ground and purred at her apprentice. “You’ve caught a lot today, Goldenpaw. We haven’t even retrieved the prey you buried earlier yet.”

          “It’s greenleaf!” Goldenpaw replied, though her eyes were shining with pride. “There’s enough prey to last us through leaf-bare.”

          Beside them, Rainpelt squinted through the trees. “The sun’s setting. Let’s head back to camp before a fox digs up your catch.”

          Suddenly, leaves rustled and Goldenpaw spotted the familiar brown shape of the vole darting away.

         Without hesitation, Goldenpaw gave chase. The forest was beginning to darken, but she could still make out the fleeting shape of the vole as it scrambled out of her reach. Goldenpaw wove through trees and jumped over logs, keeping her prey in sight. She was only inches away from it and was about to make the final leap when something barreled into her side.

          Goldenpaw tumbled off her paws and rolled away from her attacker. She scrambled to her feet, teeth bared, claws unsheathed, glaring at the cat who had knocked her over. Goldenpaw was vaguely aware that the vole was gone.

          “What did you do that for! I was about to catch it!” Goldenpaw growled, then suddenly stopped.

           A russet colored tom loomed over her, amber eyes narrowed and blazing like a wildfire. He was tall, with a single black stripe running from his head to tail. Goldenpaw didn’t recognize him, then a familiar stench overwhelmed her nose and her eyes widened in horror.

           “Goldenpaw!” The ginger apprentice turned to see her mentor skidding to a in the Clearing. Rainpelt and Flashpaw scrambled to a halt next to her. “Goldenpaw, what happened? Why are you in ShadowClan territory.”

           Completely focused on catching her prey, Goldenpaw hadn’t realized she’d strayed to far to the edge of ThunderClan territory and crossed the border. The Clearing that belonged to ThunderClan where Bloomtail, Rainpelt, and Flashpaw were standing was just a couple of tail lengths away, but that didn’t change the fact that Goldenpaw had trespassed.

           “Hey, I know you!” Flashpaw suddenly said, his eyes trained on the russet tom. “You’re Blazepaw, right? I saw you at a Gathering once.”

           He’s an apprentice? Goldenpaw cast an astonished glance at the ShadowClan cat. He’s so tall! I thought he was a warrior!

           Blazepaw passed his amber gaze over the ThunderClan cats, then rested his eyes back on Goldenpaw. Goldenpaw flinched, then immediately scolded herself for showing weakness to the enemy. She swallowed, lifted her chin, and stared straight into Blazepaw’s glowing eyes.

“This isn’t the first time ThunderClan has trespassed.”

            Goldenpaw almost jumped at the sound of Blazepaw’s voice. It was smooth and quiet, but echoed through the forest all the same. Goldenpaw gritted her teeth and tried to stop her tail from quivering.

            “And I doubt it will be the last.” Blazepaw sighed, then glanced at the clearing where Bloomtail, Rainpelt, and Flashpaw were anxiously standing. Suddenly, he leaned close to Goldenpaw’s face, his eyes blazing like his name.

            “Go back to where you belong, fox-pelt,” Blazepaw hissed. “Before I make sure you won’t be going back at all.”

Goldenpaw obliged and ran.

Coal Field (previous warriors cats fanfic)

Coal Field (Warriors Cats fanfic)

(I forgot to use the word pursue. Nevermind, I just did.)

Blazepaw let Icedawn take the lead as the two cats padded quietly through the dark pine forest. Above them, slim rays of sunlight filtered through the dense pine needles, casting small circles of light on the smooth floor. Blazepaw picked his way silently through the bed of needles, keeping his head low and his tail high enough that it didn’t disturb the leaves.

He scented Hawkpelt and Antpaw before he and Icedawn stepped into the clearing. Hawkpelt was busy correcting his apprentice’s battle crouch and didn’t notice their entrance.

“Bunch up your hindlegs! Don’t put too much weight in front. You have to be strong! If a ThunderClan warrior came at you like this-”

Hawkpelt suddenly lunged at Antpaw, nearly bowling her over. The little pale gray she-cat yelped in surprise and staggered to regain her balance.

“You call that a battle stance?” Hawkpelt growled. “In a real battle, an enemy warrior would’ve came at you with tooth, claw, and no mercy. Keep this up and you’ll be dead in no time!”

Hawkpelt turned and spotted Icedawn standing awkwardly at the edge of the clearing with Blazepaw sitting next to her, licking his paw absentmindedly.

“Blazepaw!” Blazepaw looked up to see Hawkpelt beckoning him with the tip of his tail.

“Come here! Save me the need to kill my apprentice myself.” At this, Antpaw flinched, a look of utmost fear in her eyes, but Hawkpelt didn’t seem to notice. “Show Antpaw how a proper battle crouch is done.”

Blazepaw didn’t wait for Icedawn to give him permission. She was, after all, just a substitute for Leafburn. He padded towards Antpaw, who shrank away from him. Her bright blue eyes were a mixture of fear and embarrassment and Blazepaw suddenly felt his heartbeat quicken.

Three moons ago, Blazepaw, Antpaw, Twistpaw, and Shadepaw had been made apprentices and were assigned to their mentors. On the first day, he and Antpaw had explored ShadowClan territory together, and Blazepaw had caught a lizard and a frog. During battle training, he’d mastered the battle crouch and could pin down Shadepaw in a matter of seconds. Once, Twistpaw’s mentor Mooneye and Leafburn decided to test their apprentices against each other until one of them surrendered. Blazepaw had given Twistpaw a beating that landed him in the medicine den for three days. Twistpaw never teased him again after that.

Blazepaw gave Antpaw a brief glance before dropping down into the battle crouch. He held his position while Hawkpelt pointed out his posture to Antpaw.

“Now let me see that battle crouch,” the sleek brown tom growled to his apprentice.

This time, Antpaw managed a stable crouch that earned grunts of approval from Hawkpelt.

From the edge of the clearing, Icedawn finally cleared her throat. “Why don’t we hunt for a bit before heading back to camp? Try practicing on a bit of prey.”

Hawkpelt hesitated for a moment, then nodded curtly.

“Fine. Antpaw and I will hunt closer to the lake. You two can head towards the Strip between the two Twoleg Paths if you want.” With that, he and Antpaw slipped into the darkness of the trees.

Icedawn sighed and heaved a tired yawn. “All right then. Let’s go Blazepaw-”

She blinked and looked around but Blazepaw was already gone.

Blast Fly (previous warriors cats fanfic)




Blast Fly (Warriors Cats fanfic)

“It’s only temporary.”

Blazepaw glanced at the white she-cat sitting next to him and flicked his tail warily. In the clearing, the cats of ShadowClan were beginning to slip out of their dens, stretching in the morning sunlight. The dawn patrol had already left and Sunclaw, the ShadowClan deputy, was busy organizing hunting and border patrols. At the foot of his oak tree, Duststar surveyed his Clan through warm, golden eyes.  Blazepaw watched longingly as Hawkpelt led his apprentice Antpaw out the thorn tunnel.

Icedawn, the white she-cat, followed his gaze and sighed. “Leafburn will be fine. Rockwater is the most experienced medicine cat I’ve ever met and your mentor is a strong warrior.”

Blazepaw turned to the crevice between the two rocks that was the medicine den. Only yesterday, he and his mentor had been out on a hunting patrol. Blazepaw had scented a dog while hunting solo, which must have belonged to one of the Twolegs that came to the lake during greenleaf. A few heartbeats later, he’d heard Leafburn’s familiar yowl of distress. Blazepaw had raced as fast as his paws could carry him to his mentor. The rest of the hunting patrol had made it before him and had managed to drive away the dog, but not before it tore an ugly gash along Leafburn’s hindleg.

Now he was being treated by Rockwater in the medicine den and Icedawn would be replacing Leafburn as Blazepaw’s mentor.

When Blazepaw didn’t answer, Icedawn gave him an exasperated groan. “Worrying won’t help. I’m sure Leafburn will want you practicing while he’s being treated. We don’t want to disappoint him now, do we?”

“We?” Blazepaw muttered. Icedawn flicked her ears.

As a kit, Blazepaw had always been apart from the other cats. The other kits teased him about his size and slouching posture and loved to play tricks on him when the queens weren’t looking. Once, Twistkit had told him to go into the forest and stay there until sunhigh. He said that if Blazepaw’s mother Cherryleaf didn’t come looking for him, it meant she didn’t care about him. To Blazepaw’s horror, when he slipped back into the nursery, Cherryleaf was still sharing tongues with Applenose and hadn’t noticed his absence at all.

Blazepaw flicked his russet colored tail again and padded towards the thorn tunnel. “Let’s go.”

Icedawn, too relieved to argue, followed.

Show Not Tell


Today’s Tip: Show Not Tell

Details are essential to a good story. It builds the setting, moves the plot forward, and creates tension that makes readers sit at the edge of their seats. If you guys like show and tell, I’m sorry to say that this is show NOT tell.

Who: Showing not Telling

What: details that help move your story along

When: describing something

Where: throughout the novel

Why: to move your story along and make it less dull

How: Avoid simple sentences. “The dog was excited.” Why was it excited? What is its reactions? What are your reactions? Answer these questions and soon enough you’ll have an entire paragraph instead of one sentence. Plus, your paragraph probably seems a lot more enthusiastic and real than the simple sentence. Think of the different details you can add. Sometimes, you might need to break off from describing one thing by describing another. Add a “the wind whistled through the trees” somewhere in there. But be careful not to write too much detail or your reader will start getting bored of all the sentence too.

Activity: Rewrite these “telling” sentences into “showing” paragraphs.

  1. I loved her.
  2. I felt nauseated.
  3. It was painful.
  4. It was dark.
  5. I was scared.
  6. I felt nervous.
  7. My friend was mad.


Writing Tips 16


Today’s Tip: Groups

If you’re reading this right now, you’re already in one. Some people find this helpful, others prefer independence. However, writing groups can come in handy when you’re writing your story.

Who: Groups

What: group of writers who give each other feedback on their works

When: anytime

Where: wherever you chose to meet

Why: so you can get advice from different readers

How: In simpler terms, all you have to do is get together a group of people who love writing and meet up somewhere. But this can often be tricky. The more people in your group, the harder it is to find the perfect time and place to meet up. However, the smaller your group, the less advice you’ll get from different critiques. Or, you don’t have to meet up at all. With the technology we have now, Google Docs lets you share your story with multiple people and allows you to see the edits they’ve made. You can talk to specific group members in person if you want to, or just chat online. Writing groups are very useful if you want to know what your friends think and what you can improve on. After all, the best writer is still a reader.

Activity: Get together a writing group and write!

Writing Tips 15


Today’s Tip: Revision

Every author’s gotta go back to revise their story. You can’t expect your novel to be the perfect bestseller on the first try. If it is, OMG TELL ME YOUR SECRET. MUST. HAVE. I know it’s a pain to go through all of that hard work only to go through it again. But trust me, this time it’ll be easier.

Who: Revision

What: going back through your story and making changes if necessary

When: once you’re done writing your story

Where: beginning, middle, end, all of it

Why: to check for any irrelevant details, grammar issues, spelling, etc.

How: Simple. Once you’re finished with your novel, go back and read it again. I find it best if you read your story like you would normally read the work of another author. That way, you’re looking through the reader’s eyes and will know what the reader wants and what the reader finds annoying or repetitive. Feel the reader, be the reader, the reader is within you. Look for anything you can change, like boring long paragraphs, grammar that doesn’t make sense, big vocabulary that no one understands, details that are confusing, or too much repetition of the same thing over and over again, whether it be a certain scene or a certain action. Remember, always keep your reader hooked because once they put your book down, there’s no guarantee they’ll pick it up again.

Activity: Write different versions of you story. You can alter the beginning, middle, end, or all of it. Be careful not to change the main plot of your story.

Writing Tips 14


Today’s Tip: Writer’s Block Again

I know I’ve talked about this somewhere in my earlier tips. We can never get rid of writer’s block. It just something that comes with. Every writer is afraid of it and often, writers succumb to it. It’s dangerous, it’s discouraging, and it’s a writer’s worst enemy.

Who: Writer’s Block

What: a time when writers run out of ideas or are stuck on one part of a story

When: you lose the essential “sense of direction”

Where: anywhere in the story, often between the beginning and the middle.

Why: to discourage writers from finishing their future novels

How: How do you overcome it? I actually don’t know. I’ve tried a bunch of different methods. Sometimes, when I meet writer’s block, I stop writing for a few days and then come back to the story. I would’ve collected ideas by then. Other times, I set the story aside and forget about it. That’s the option I fear the most, not being able to finish something I started. Often, it’s because I’ve thought of a new, maybe “better” story to write about and the old one just loses its interest. So how do you keep writing? It depends on what kind of writer you are. If you want to take a break, then take a break, but please please please don’t forget about your story. If you want to continue, then you can try asking yourself multiple questions. What is the character thinking? What are the other characters thinking? Is now the time for the archnemesis to appear? Try your best to keep writing. Just know that you’re not the only one who’s battling writer’s block.

Activity: Jot down a list of every little idea that comes to mind. When you think you’ve got enough, incorporate them into your story. Also, before writing a chapter, take note of which direction the chapter will take your characters and KEEP IT IN MIND. Do not lose track or you will get lost.

Writing Tips 13


Today’s Tip: Ending

Well, we’ve talked a lot about beginnings. Now let’s explore the endings. Endings are just as important as beginnings, if not more crucial. For a series, the ending of one book determines whether or not the reader will read the next one.

Who: Endings

What: how the story finishes

Where: at the end

When: at the end to sum up the story or leave a cliffhanger

Why: to give your story an end and for the reader to want to read more

How: All the rising actions, falling actions, and the climax are somehow connected to the ending. They’re actually what make the ending the end. Everything that happened in the story builds up to that one moment, then settles into the finish line. For a story to have a good ending, it must have good events. Give a nice twist, but not too much that you leave the reader complaining. Remember, your characters change along with the story, so by the time readers are at the end, the characters shouldn’t be the same as the ones at the beginning. The ending is also a time for resolutions and for some problems to be solved- in a series, not all the truths are revealed and the characters (and readers) still have questions. That’s a cliffhanger.

Activity: Read the first chapter of a book. Then predict how it will end. Skip to the last chapter and read it. Was your prediction correct? Did the characters seem to change? If you want to, write the events that lead to the ending without reading the book.

Writing Tips 12 (it’s been a while…)


Today’s Tip: Point of View

The three most common POVs in novels are first person, third person, and third person omniscient. First person includes pronouns like “me, myself, and I”. Third person uses “he, she, him, her”. Third person omniscient means “the all knowing”, which is when you know every character’s thoughts and feelings, not just the MC.

Who: POV

What: the perspective the story is being told

When: throughout the story

Where: depends on what POV you’re using

Why: to let the reader know who is telling the story

How: First person POV is a common point of view used in books like The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins or Divergent by Veronica Roth. It uses pronouns like “I” and “me” and is told from the main character’s perspective. First person POV is usually the one that most readers can connect to because it feels as if everything is happening to you, not just the character. You feel what the main character feels.

Third person POV is another common point of view used in books such as Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling or Dark Artifices by Cassandra Clare. It uses pronouns like “he” and “she” and can sometimes be told by the main character’s perspective. Like first person, third person can also be relatable based on the character’s thoughts and actions. The reader feels like they are in the main character’s world, watching the main character’s every move.

Third person omniscient is, of course, the “all seeing” and “all knowing”. Books like Seekers by Erin Hunter are written in multiple perspectives with not one main character but several. Though it isn’t as commonly used as first or third person POV, third person omniscient is still quite effective as you sympathize and understand multiple characters’ thoughts, feelings, and actions, toward the world and maybe towards each other.

Activity: Write an excerpt from whatever novel you are working on or plan on working on in one POV. Then switch to another POV. Then switch to the remaining POV. Get a feel for each one and see which suits you most.