daily 11/2, 357 words.

dear future me,
how are you doing? hopefully you're a lot less busy than i am now. i'm trying really hard to keep up with my schoolwork, but it's so difficult! add onto that the massive pile of music i have to learn and memorize, and i don't even know how we have time for scratch writing camp!!
but anyways, enough ranting about our crazy schedule. time to talk about scratch writing camp instead! some of my goals for this session were to finish the bard and the prophecy, to enter the writing competition, and to try to do the daily every day. did we make it?! was my mental willpower strong enough!? only you know the answer, future me, in your ultimate wisdom.
have you figured out what to do with lenore? do you know how to convincingly reveal solace? did you finally solve the complete mess that is camp stardust?!! that would be absolutely amazing, considering how long we've been working on it for. did you expand on the cafe story? maybe you have new story ideas to explore. that would be incredible too - just make sure there aren't tons of plot holes.
how does the audition go? did we get a good score at s&e? did the duet make it through? heck, did *choir* make it through? you know how scared we were about it. do you manage to get all the handel down in time?? that's a big one; at least there aren't that many melismas this year. and did you get that solo? that would be really neat.
what happens with you-know-who? do you ever figure that out? say yes because i need that answer. do you ever get better at fencing? ….ehh, probably not. but hey, you never know - figured i'd ask. at least our epee is back and functioning.
reading this over, it feels like i have more questions than answers. but hey, that's just life and life ain't fair. (yes, that was a reference. if you didn't get it, i'm ashamed of you, future me.) so, i guess i'll see you on the 30th of november. good luck,
-autumn

gonna post all my writing here:

Daily 2: 11/2/2023
Dear Future Self,
I decided to put my future self there instead of our real name, because this is for SWC. And I want the points (well technically my points don’t go anywhere cause I’m a backup camper but you know) >;D. I am sure you already know that we don’t enjoy writing letters like this, mostly because we always remember what we wrote and when we wrote them. In the past we have written letters to ourselves, and we remember both. What is the point of these letters if we remember what we wrote in them? Maybe we just have to wait longer to open them so we don’t remember what we wrote? Maybe we’ll try that in the future, but this is a letter about SWC, so i’ll include some goals I have for SWC below:

1) I really hope you participate every daily and weekly, if you have the time of course, which I’m sure you do. Writing every day is a good habit that we should both pick up and continue. Maybe you should continue it after SWC. But that's a big ask, I know, and I don’t really have faith in you.
2) Next, I hope you get sorted into a high ranking cabin, of course it doesn’t really matter because there are hardworking people in every cabin, that will make the experience amazing. But we have never been in a cabin that placed in the top 5 at the end of camp, and I think it may be fun to have that experience.
3) Next, please learn how to use commas. I have know idea how to, I'm literally just making it up and google docs is not giving me suggestions.
4) Oh yes, also read those books you need to read. I should probably get that started for you, but we need to read. We literally never crack open a book unless we are required to, soooooooo.
You can probably tell by the last two goals (3 and 4) that I am getting tired of writing, so its time to wrap this up. Bye!

-Your Past Self

Word Count: 350

Daily 3: 11/3/2023
The wind sends a piece of trash across the train platform, and chills my bare nose. It’s that time of year again. Where one sweater won’t keep you safe from the cold. I bounce up and down eagerly waiting for the train to arrive. It should have already come but it’s usually late by three minutes. More regular passages of the train file on the platform knowing the train hasn’t arrived yet. They are all dressed in multiple warm layers and some even have hats on. In the distance we hear the blaring of a train horn, people stand up from the benches and collect their belongings as the train slows to a stop along the platform. Its doors open with hiss and a few passengers depart the train before everyone begins to enter. When I board my cold cheeks are greeted by the warmth of the train cabin, and my fingertips tingle with the warmth. I head to the second level of the train to find my usual seat. The second level is usually less crowded, most people don’t want to climb a flight of stairs simply to get a seat. But I enjoy it, as I walk along the isle I notice that my usually empty row has been occupied by a man in a long trench coat. He is seated in the window seat, my preferred seat. I bite my lip and take a seat in the aisle seat of the same row. I can still slightly glimpse out of the window so I turn my head to see the platform shrink out of view.
“It’s not a polite stare”, the man says, catching me off guard. I wouldn't have expected someone dressed in a long trench coat and hat that covers their entire face to speak a word to a stranger.
“I wasn’t staring at you, I was looking out the window” I say, defensively.
“It's quite a boring view if you ask me, I sit everyday it never changes.” he says as he turns his head and makes eye contact with me thought the shadows of his face.
“You sit here everyday?” I ask, not sure if I should continue to interact with a man who has just lied straight to my face.
“Yes.”
“Do you work in the city?”
“I work, sometimes in the city, sometimes elsewhere.”
“What do you do?” I ask, curious by the man's outfit.
“You would like to know?”
“I just asked, so yes I would like to know.”
“Well then, I’ll see you at your lunch break. Same place as usual, I hope. I makes it easier for me.”
“Erm–” my mind is spinning, how does he know I eat lunch at the same place every day?

Word Count: 458

Daily 4: 11/4/2023
There are many stories of how the first constellation, Orion came to be, but not many know the true story behind it. Long ago before the stars illuminated the sky, there was a young boy by the name of Orion. He was young and ambitious. So ambitious that he wanted to reach the sky.

“Mother,” Orion said, as she tucked him into bed, “I want to reach the sky!”
“The sky?” she asked.
“Yes, I want to see what it looks like up there,” he replied.
“Well, there's nothing up there except for the moon.” She said
“Well, when I travel there I'll carry a lantern so you can see me. Then there will be something up there.”
She laughed and blew at the candle in Orion's room. She did not believe Orion would make it to the sky no one did.

The next day Orion woke up just as the sun began to rise over the horizon. He had decided that today he would travel to the sky. But first he would need to find a lantern. He slipped on his shoes and belt over his clothes and headed out to the market. The market was loud and bustling, people buying and selling fruit and meat. The food tempted Orion but he was determined, after searching the market for an hour he finally found the lantern merchant.

“I would like one lantern please,” said Orion to the merchant
“What does a little boy like you need a lantern for?” asked the merchant.
“To light my way to the sky!” replied the boy.
“Well, do what you must,” said the lantern merchant doubtfully.

Orion paid the man and set off with his lantern. He did not know where to go, but decided that the best place to go would be up. He looked around for the tallest hill he could see. It was to the north, so he continued north. It was midday when Orion reached the beginning of the hill, but he would not give up. He climbed and climbed until night fell over the sky. The moon illuminated the hill without a cloud in sight. Orion stood at the top of the hill and spoke to the moon.

“Will you take me to the sky?”

The story ends here but, I'm sure if you look to the night sky you will know how the moon responded.

Word Count: 398

Weekly 1:

Part 1:
Song: State of Grace
Lyric: This is the worthwhile fight.

The meeting room is dimly lit and stuffy, my shoulders brush against people I can hardly make out. Although it doesn't matter, I don’t need to see them to know what they look like. Their forearms are marked with golden and red symbols, ones that have likely never seen the light of day. The only visible person stands on an elevated platform with lights illuminating her face. But we’re not looking at her face, the sleeves of her shirt are rolled up to her elbows, exposing her golden and red symbols. I’ve never seen anyone else’s symbols other than my families. She raises her right arm and points to it with her left.

“These are my symbols, symbols I have covered everyday since I can remember. My mother told me to cover them when I was 3. After she died my father said the same. When I grew older I began to tell myself to do so. But I was not covering my symbols out of respect for my mother and father. I was not covering them to honor myself. I was covering them out of fear. But I am done being afraid. I am done hiding. We deserve to show the world who we are. I will fight for this. This is the worthwhile fight.”

She ends her speech, the crowd is silent. Slowly people began to whisper, then one man stands up, lifts his right hand, and pulls up his sleeve exposing his symbols. Others around me follow, but I am stuck on the bench. Of course I stand by my people, I want them to have freedom. But if I support this, I will lose everything I have worked for. My position at the court, as soon as they find out my identity, I'll be stripped of my rank. My years of school, thrown aside. My thoughts consume me until I realize I am the only one remaining seated.

Word Count: 322

Part 2:
Name: Luro Talen
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Occupation: She works at a fantasy court, where she earns most of the money her family uses to sustain their life.
Education: She attended a fantasy law school from ages 16-20, and previously attended primary (ages 5-9) and secondary school (ages 10-15).
Family: She is the oldest of 3 and has a very strong relationship with her mother, father and siblings. Family is very important to her.
Strengths: Hardworkering, intelligent, protecting
Weaknesses: Selfish, doesn’t think her actions through, inflated sense of self because she has a proper education unlike most of her kind, so she thinks she's smarter than them and worth more.
Word Count: 110

Part 3:
1) I shuffle into the house, and kick off my boots, making a beeline for my room. When my mother sees me, she asks me,
“How was it?”
“It was fine,” I respond, eager to end the conversation.
She looked disappointed with my answer, it was her who convinced me to attend the meeting. I mostly went because she wanted me to go. “Well what did she say, what is she planning?”
“They're going to show the world their symbols.”
“Really?” My mother says, “How many?”
“Er– a lot, all of them.” I stammer.
“Even you.”
“I don’t know.” I say making my way to my room.
“You don’t know?” My mother asks.
“No. I don’t.”
“Luro, how can you not want to support this, support your people, your family–.”
“I support this family” I yell.
“I go to work everyday, I am the reason we have this apartment, I am the reason my siblings go to a good school, I am the reason this family is happy.”
“Luro, I am grateful for everything you have given us. But I am not happy. I can’t be happy hiding my true self, my family.”

Word Count: 192

2) My mother is sitting at the dining table flipping through a small collection of flyers as I enter the apartment. I step out of my shoes too lazy to untie them, as I catch a glimpse of one of the flyers. It has bold writing on the front, written in gold and red font. I could guess it’s an advertisement for something, but when my mother calls me to join her at the table, I see what it is. It’s calling for a revolution.
“I picked this up on my way home from work,” she says “it's a flier about a meeting for people of our kind.”
“Interesting, a meeting,” I say, doubting it’s just a meeting, “are you thinking of going.”
She hesitates, “it's quite a bit far away from here, and I need to take care of the home.”
“Oh,” I say, “well–”
“I was wondering if you would like to go.”
Of course I don't want to go. Meetings like these are calls for revolution, if your caught participating you’ll lose everything.

Word Count: 175

3) I remember when I was young my aunts and uncles were always surprised to learn that I was the smartest in my class. No one in my family really excelled in school or got past grade 13, they all went on to work jobs that required skills they had learned at home. I, however being the youngest in my family, never learned to care for the home like my older siblings. Most of my childhood was spent pouring over books, writing, reading and solving. That's what led me to my position at the bank, a job I love. But sometimes I wish my hands could do more than just write. I wish my hands could knit the sweaters like my older sister and cook her same meals from the little food we get. Or craft stools and tables like my two older siblings. My hands though, the least worn and the softest make the most money.

Word Count: 156

Part 4:
“No, I can’t.” I say.
“Why not?” she asks.
“Do you know what happens if you get caught?”
“I don’t know, Uncle Carter got caught, he came back just fine.” My mothers says clueless of the larger picture.
“That cause Uncle Carter doesn’t have a real job–”
“Uncle Carter is a hard working man who–”
I interrupt her, “I work at the bank, if I get caught, I’m done! My years of school, university, down the drain.”
“There are other jobs you can work, you know.”
“Like what?” I ask, “And if I lose my job, who's paying for rent?”
“We’ll manage Luro.”
“Regardless, there's no job for me without a pen and paper.”
“Then you can always work with your sister and knit sweaters.”
“I CAN’T KNIT, I CAN'T COOK, I CAN'T DO ANYTHING. You never taught me how.”
“I promise you, you won’t get caught.”
“Are you even listening to me? Why did you never teach me how?”
“You never wanted to learn.”
“Did my older siblings want to?”
“No they–”
“Then why did you treat me any differently?”
“Because you had other interests, I wanted you to pressure those.”
“Then why are you suggesting I can learn to knit if I get caught?”
“YOU WON’T GET CAUGHT.”
“How? Why?”
She hands me the flier, and motions for me to read it:

A symbol gathering, 4451 Cornelia street.

Enter through the underground mining tunnels, head north.

That's all it says.

“Your joking.”
“Only our kind works in the mines no one will know.”
“The only direction they gave us was to go north.”
“Yes, you've never heard that if you go north through the mines you will eventually end up at an abandoned mining camp. Where people used to sleep at night.”
“No, I haven't heard of that. Why would I know that?”
“I guess no one ever told you.”
“I guess not, but how do you know these fliers didn’t get into the hands of other people?”
“I was hand delivered to our door, Luro I promise it’s safe.”
I sigh,“Alright, I go. When is it?”
“Tomorrow” she says, “But your better start walking through the mines today, the journey takes 3 and half hours and it's already late.”
“Ok, but I have some work I need to finish first.”
“Be quick about it then, I’ll make food and pack your bag for the trip.” She says as she heads to the kitchen, “And wear something warm.” she adds.
I head to my room, and open my drawer, and find the knit sweater that my sister gave me for my birthday. I go to my closet to find a thicker jacket to layer over. I pull out a brown leather jacket that used to be my fathers. Then I search for some pants tights with carpenter pants to keep me warm. I lay all my clothes out on my bed and head back to the kitchen. I can smell the familiar smell of beans and cabbage.

Word Count: 500

Total Word Count: 1455

Daily 10:
The silhouette of the mountains are identical to how they were when I left, that's about as far as the similarities go. Once rolling green fields have become beds of ash and dust. The clear sky is now tainted with soot, and yet they call this victory. The old rocking chair squeaks and groans under my weight, maybe it agrees with my thoughts or it’s my sign to head back inside. The sun has already set and stars have begun to appear in the sky. I heave myself up, and enter the warmth of the home.

“What’s on your mind?” my Mother demands,”You’ve been sitting out there for 3 hours.” She shoves a cup of chamomile tea into my hands.”You’re going to get sick.”

I take myself and the cup of tea to the couch, and began to sip. The gentle notes of apple and honey remind me of when I was younger, playing in the lavender fields, spotting animals in the clouds. Everything different and everything the same reminds me of a better time.

“Well?” She asks, again more gentle this time.

“How can the town celebrate?” I ask back, the question has been brewing in my mind for sometime.

“We won. We’re celebrating our victory.” she said simply.

“We won a war we started.” I, correct.

“Yes, we won the war we started after being provoked–”

I interrupt, “We provoked this war, my fighting is the reason the war continued. The opposing side was ready to end the war before it even started.”

“We won the land!” She exclaims, offended by my ideas.

“At what cost?” I ask, standing up from the couch in frustration, “This war has sacrificed the pain and suffering of the land we live on, over– some stupid piece of land.”

“That land was stolen from us!”

“Well we have been doing just fine without it!”

“You know nothing about history.”

“NO. DON’T TELL I DON’T KNOW MY HISTORY! I FOUGHT THROUGH HISTORY!” I yell, letting the rage I had been holding in, explode. “I SAW WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FRIENDS, TO PEOPLE.”

“AND THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT THEIR DEATHS!” My Mother yells.

“Are you telling me to forget them?” I ask, feeling the anger rise again.
“No, I am asking you to let go of what you can’t control.” she says calmly.

“What about the hypocrisy of the war?” I ask, knowing I can’t just let that go.

“No, keep your views and opinions on that. But you have to let go of the people you've lost, there is no bring them back.”

“I know but I have to honor them.”

“Then we will honor them, get some sleep.”

————

The next morning, before the sun has gotten a chase to peer into my window, there's a knock on my bedroom door.

I groan, “What is it?”

“You wanted to honor your friends.” my mother says through the door, “Get up, we’re going outside!”

Warped up in my blankets and pillows, I hardly feel like getting up, but I force myself out of bed and dress myself in a few layers of warm clothes. And head outside to find my mother.

“What's this for?” I ask when I see her with a shovel and small brown pouch.

“Poppies,” she says.

Word Count: 550

Cabin Wars:
I run my hands through my greasy hair that hasn’t been washed in days, as I pour over Roosevelt High School’s 2007 yearbook, searching for the initials, IRD. Naomi does the same, searching though other yearbooks. We have been at it for days, with no real success.

“What if we are looking at the wrong year.” I suggest, partly because I don’t feel like searching anymore.

Namoi looks up from her yearbook,“IRD was born on September 17th 1988, meaning in 2007, the year she graduated, sh– they wa– were 18 years old, later that year they would have turned 19.”, she goes back to reading.

“I know, but the cut off dates are always weird, IRD could have graduated the year before. Besides, we're dealing with a smart killer. I’m sure they were advanced for their age” I say.
She pauses and closes her book. “You’re right we are dealing with a smart killer. They always make sure that there are no witnesses.”

At that moment I began to notice the emptiness of the library.

Word Count: 176

Churro's Dailies #02 (11/2)
Err.. hi?!
Is that really you? OMG, hahaha. Hello there, future me!
(wow this is so embarrassing but I'll roll with it he he he)
So… erm, how are you? This is super weird because i'm literally talking to my future me!! And i don't know if you remember, but when i was writing this i was still sick with urinary tract infection (aka UTI). Yep. Ha ha haa haa. How are you doing with your book right now? Have you at least finished Part 2? If not I'm really going to throw a chair at you.
Okay, just kidding. Just… NO. MORE. PROCRASTINATING. No more excuses either. No more but i love procrastinating! if i don't procrastinate i'll be losing my greatest and only talent! Oh no! Wah wah wah!
FINISH. PART. 2.
Sorry about that. I really hope I don't procrastinate to finish SWC's weeklies and dailies and such. Procrastinating is a habit that will never get better for me.
Alright, now onto goals for this month, lol. Number one, try to be a good concertmaster in orchestra. No, no, that doesn't mean you're the best player. The auditioning just malfunctioned and you somehow got put in first chair. REMEMBER. THE. REPEATS. *throws chair x2*
Number two, actually try to write. Like, i know you have so many ideas just floating around in your head, but they're not going to come out until you do.
IM SORRY WHAT WAS THAT?
(I'm as straight as a circle and I'm not coming out until I'm certain my mom isn't a homophobe. Or anyone else.)
No, i meant, until you sit down and write them. Actually though. Did I mention i struggle with procrastination? Like, seriously. STAWWP IT. Try to get rid of those ideas in your head that stop you from sleeping and then suddenly Never Gonna Give You Up starts playing in your head like are you serious right now? Rick, I'm trying to sleep!
Last, but certainly not least, Number three, *deep breath in* TRY. TO. DO YOUR MATH HOMEWORK. Like, I know I know, just because you're Asian doesn't mean the stereotypes are right or anything and even though your mom makes you do Algebra even though you're only in 7th grade and you know you didn't pass the CBE test for a reason… at least try. You KNOW you're bad at math. You KNOW you're failing all your tests and somehow your tiger mum isn't killing you already. You KNOW you have to get 95+ to avoid death by mom.
So why are you not doing anything?
BE RESPONSIBLE, OKAY?
Omg i'm actually going to throw another chair at you. Seriously.
Anyways, I hope you have achieved all those goals by now, and if not… there's going to be a chair massacre.
Drink your water, eat your vegetables, pick up that violin, try to sleep at 9:30 sharp… and yeah, don't die.
(Wow sorry @_Serenjade_ I have to stop plagiarising you)

Sincerely, past Churro

P.S sorry but i have to…
NEVER GONNA GIVE U UP NEVER GONNA LET U DOWN NEVER GONNA RUN AROUND AND DESERT YOU NEVER GONNA MAKE U CRY NEVER GONNA SAY GOODBYE NEVER GONNA-
*sighs* i just love rickrolling people


Word Count: 540

Miney's Post on the Megathread!

I'm back and better than ever! Let's get to it!

DAILIES:

Template: {Daily #: Daily Description}

{Daily 2: Write a letter to your future self}

Dear Future Me,
Sorry, I keep leaving you a bunch of letters, but this one’s for SWC! How’s life been for you? I know, you’ll probably read this again in a month, but let me tell you a few things. If you don’t remember, you were going through high-school, you were a cool plague doctor for Halloween, and you found two new songs to add to your playlist: Greedy by OR3O and Hidden In The Sand by Tally Hall. Go take a listen if you don’t remember! Anyways, enough reminders, I’d like to talk to you about a few things. First of all, GET. YOUR NOVEL. FINISHED! I don’t know how many times I need to remind myself, past, present, or future, but we should REALLY get to finishing our novel, and with SWC I might just accomplish that, or take a step in the right direction at least!
You should also start writing more often. I know, with homework, school, and our little distracted and wandering mind, we get side-tracked easily and forget. BUT, you can control that! So go out and do it! I know that you’re going to someday be an excellent author, just how we’ve always dreamed, but to do that you have to get off your lazy butt and start writing!
Finally, if you ever feel discouraged, ignored, or insulted, don’t let it get to your head! With our issues, I know that’s gonna be tough hehe… but you can get through it! Just know that there’s always someone there for you, whether it’s Mom, Dad, our family and friends, or anyone, really, just know. And know, above all, that God loves you. I mean, he didn’t send Jesus to die for nothing!
I want to ask you a few things, just before I leave. Maybe you’ll be a month, a year, five years, or ten years into your life. No matter how far, I’d like to ask you. Have you decided about her yet? You know who I mean. I’m not gonna share her name because… y’know this is going out to a bunch of strangers on the internet, but you know. How far have you come from me writing this? Like, what have you accomplished? It is just bugging me that I won’t know right now, but someday I’ll look back and see myself writing this on the table, ignoring breakfast, just to send this to you. What’s the world like? The same as ever, a worse condition, or a better place? I hope it’s the latter, really. Maybe by the time you read this, the end might be close. The Good End. If you ever have the chance, write me back! I know you can’t physically write me back (unless they somehow make time machines and a letter just appears on my doorstep), but I just want you to write something.
Sincerely, Present Me.

482 Words

{Daily 3: TBD}

WEEKLIES:

WORD WARS:

Template: #. Date: | Words: | Time: | Opponent: | Win or Loss: |

1. Date: 11/5/23 | Words: 236 | Time: 5 Mins | Opponent: @PoppyWriter | Win or Loss: Win! |

“You don’t have to do this Herobrine!” He shouted over the raging sounds of the storm. But it was too late. Herobrine looked at him, those same white eyes, still cold. But something else lingered in his expression. Pity? Sorrow? But it didn’t matter. The force of the storm congregated into his hands and burst out in a shockwave. The storm broke over them to reveal a dark portal, with something waiting on the other end. It smiled, its red eyes gleaming as its shackles broke. It landed in their midst. Jude raised the staff, the NEcro Staff vibrating with power as he readied for the enemy. The thing that had come from the portal was cloaked in white robes and had no face, merely shadows and two red eyes. But all the same, it grinned.
“After 700 years…” It rasped. “All these centuries waiting in purgatory, I’ve finally returned.” The thing looked to Herobrine, and he kneeled. Even Herobrine, one of the most powerful entities, bowed before this being from a celestial prison? Jude’s hands trembled as he stepped back, the edge of the mountain nearing. The thing turned towards him.
“What is this?” Those malicious red eyes locked on him and he froze. He couldn’t move a muscle. “Who is this boy?”
“Forgive me, my lord,” Herobrine muttered. “This is the one who has been interfering with your plan since the beginning.”

—–

11/2 Daily- Steampunk Cabin
Hello? Are you there?
It's me. From the past. I know you can't respond but-
Do you remember? Have I ever gotten better at drawing lol I know I won’t but hopefully? Maybe? Okay, I’ll stop… but do you think the photos of me from sixth grade are cute now? How old are you? I’m eleven now, and life is nuts. My mom is constantly threatening to send me to public school :0! (don’t ask, please!) Are you in high school now? Did we ever move closer to school? Right now we live like 20 minutes away so… what are you doing right now? I’m sitting in the midst of a sort of messy playroom as my brother is doing a drawing video in the other room and my little sis is distracting him… my other bro is quietly reading… and I need to do my schoolwork but I’m too caught up with this lol… I’m really hoping my dad won’t come over and yell at me for putting off my schoolwork right now… anyways, you should really expand on that idea you had… the in-between? Ok, maybe you don’t remember fully but you can look it up in your google docs… yes, i mean now… so you’re back! *sarcastic cheer* lol! I know i will see this in the near future, like, in a month or something but come back to me in high school? Pretty please? It was just Halloween, so… what month is it now? Are you caught up on your schoolwork… oh, no? GO DO IT NOW!!!! Sorry, i’m a bad example but in the future, I NEED to be better at this!! How’s the reading blog going? Good? Good! Now, go do your schoolwork… I'm waiting… waiting… done? If you’re not, go do it, for goodness sake! If you are then keep on reading! How’s theater going? (this is for the far future, sorry near-future me…) was the performance a success? Good! (if it was, which it WILL BE and I will not listen to you if you say it wasn’t!!) Now, what is going on in your life? Anything fun, interesting… *sighs* ok, now I REALLY need to do my schoolwork and lol this letter was probably the worst piece of writing in my life, but is that ok? No? Oh, well, too late… I really need to do my schoolwork but one last question (for DECEMBER 2023 me), what cabin won SWC? Thanks!
Yourself for the past, present, and future,
11/2/2023 Faith
P.S. oh, and have I finished writing a book yet? and has HE gotten any less annoying? bye, i'm off to do my schoolwork! (and you should too, I know you put that off…)
Word count- 450

Dear Future Dalia,
I am now on your second day of SWC. How was the session? Did I beat my word goal of 11k? Did I write more in our novel we were working on? In 2024 have we tried out leader applications yet? That would be really fun. I just want to tell you that you are doing really great and even though I am not going to get to be you for a while. It was really hard for me to get motivation. I was in a place where I did not want to write and even though I had all these great ideas I wouldn't do anything with them. Maybe this session really motivated us to write Astrid of Awlai. I really can't wait to see what we do with our writing. I hope that you became less afraid to share you writing with others. I really hope that you let our friend Leo read your writing and you both helped each other improve. Since this session was his first time doing this I hope you helped inspire him to write. Fairy tales seems like such a fun cabin. Did we end up actually making any friends. I am really looking forward to seeing what the weeklies and dailies are so that we can grow as writers and get stronger. I hope that we ended up learning something that we can show our english teachers how much that we have grow as writers. Have you bothered to do your schoolwork yet (I really hope we stopped procrastinating doing it)? Im sitting in the theatre room at school while the other cast goes up as I write this to you. I hope that this class helped us get over our dislike of speaking in front of large audiences. Our brothers are still annoying and I wish I could punt them like a football. I hope we pulled some pranks on them and got some epic payback for all the things that they have done to us. Make sure when you read this future me to tell dad that you love him. I hope that he finally got better and is able to do the things that he loves. Well got to go!

Your past, present, and future self,
Dalia

word count 381
Fairy tales cabin

11/2/23
Dear Future self,
For one thing hi, and for another thing please stop procrastinating your schoolwork. Anyways with that out of the way I hope that you're well. I don't know what you're doing at this time but I hope Thanksgiving went well. I also hope that you've figured out some of the things you've needed to. How's the writing going? I hope you've worked on improving those goals. Is art going well? How are your friends? It's a little weird asking myself this but I guess this is good practice. I've honestly never been good at writing letters. Anyways, did you write that story you wanted to try doing during SWC? I'm interested to try it out but I don't know if it'll work out. I'm still figuring out how this whole thing works so if you've got any pointers please let me know. I'm struggling just to write this so you probably have more experience than I do. I'd love to figure out the best way to organize all my work on this format; I've never used the discuss stuff that Scratch has. I'm open to any suggestions you have. I hope you've fleshed out your characters more and that new Koopa OC works out. Same with the other one. I still need names for those two. Let me know your ideas! Please write back if you get the chance, let me know if there are any lottery tickets I should buy. Speaking of Back to the Future, any cool movies you've watched lately? The Five Nights at Freddy's movie was awesome, I'm not sure you can top that but who knows. People have been saying it wasn't the best, but I loved it, and so does the box office so the numbers don't support the haters. I guess I should let you get back to whatever you should be doing. Oh, by the way, try to come up with a personal lore for SWC. It'll be a fun idea and good practice for plot creating. Well, I guess I'll be you in about a month so here's hoping.
Have a good time.

Word Count{355}

Nickname - Ava
Content - November 2nd Daily
Word Count - 355/350
Cabin - Mystery

• …In this activity, you'll be writing a letter to your future self. Mention any goals you have for this month, maybe talk about a writing project of yours? Anything you want to include is great We'll be opening these letters near the end of the session…
  

• …Write 350 words to earn 200 points for your cabin, with a bonus 200 points for sharing proof…
  

Dear future me,
I apologize.
Everything you are suffering through at the given point is probably because of me. So, instead of taking it out on one of your friends, take it out on this letter instead.

Remember when we talked about getting Isabelle back? I hope you've done that. Sure, she might've been wrong, I might've been wrong, Both of us could've been wrong, but we only have one life. And stubborn people tend to pack everything away so that they don't hurt their ego: I hope Isa doesn't get hurt doing that as well. Under all of that confidence, there's a really good friend inside of her, and I don't want to lose that.

We also have to catch up on all that Maths work TT What happened to you? You used to be top of the class (You still are… right?) but you're becoming more and more absent (I mean- I am) And it just keeps coming in MORE.

We need to update “Banished Nymph”, “Amulet of Freedom”, and of course, rewrite “Samerth Stories” and “Better?” That might be a lot of work for just a month, but remember, you're the girl who finished eight pages of English writing in those huge books in around 30 minutes to an hour (Which is a lot- What's with those useless questions and answers?)

Ugh, and also- Deal with that AWFUL AWFUL particular teacher (I'm not going to mention their name, what if they see- :sob: ). They can't control you, ok? You managed to stand up once, DO IT AGAIN.

We're going to have to make sure that we don't miss a daily/weekly/cabin wars/Critique this session. We have to keep that perfect streak going like last time (Duolingo is already mad at me, I'm still running with my streak freezes, hope he hasn't caught us yet.)

And most importantly, I hope you're happy.
Whatever you go through, I've started to realize that even if the moment hurts, make it last. Because the next one might be beautiful, and we already messed that up with one person.

I love you.
Yourself,
Ava

That got emotional real quick ahahaha- ^^'

Go back to my main page

Churro's Writing Portfolio Miscellaneous Piece No.1

Untitled Poem

That first day
I woke up with a pain in my back
I threw up
the toilet bowl is a bright yellow now
My back feels like stones pressing down on it
Down with my happiness it went
Now I don't feel
I don't think

I spend my day shut up in my room
Watching Youtube videos until my computer's less than
half dead;
I don't realize how much
time im wasting on this–
I should be doing homework
should be catching up
should be playing my violin
violin left untouched in the case
Down went the stones in my back
Down with my happiness it went
Down with my motivation
I don't feel
I don't think

I creep downstairs for a meal
I haven't been eating the whole day
and I'm starving
I open the pot
My mom's soup sitting in there, waiting to be eaten
she works so hard to make it
yet when i bring the soup to my mouth
i feel like throwing up
and I spit it out in the trash can, even though it's delicious
Down with the stones in my back
Down with my happiness it went, Down
with my motivation, Down
with my appetite

i see myself in a room when i dream
with mirrors everywhere
in one, i see myself jumping around, joyfully
a tear drips down my face
in another i am playing the violin joyously
i glance at my out of tune thing–
in the last, there is a girl–
eating her mother's delicious soup
her mom's smile so big it could encompass the sky
my mom works so hard
i don't even eat it
now all I do everyday is
sulk around, my back as straight as i am
my body is surrounded with a black aura-
the aura of sickness
it changes me, changes me
from a girl with life, with a smiling mother
to a depressed girl who feels she has no purpose anymore–
it controls me now–
Down with the stones in my back
Down with my happiness it went, Down
with my motivation, Down
with my appetite

My eyes linger on the violin
it hasnt been touched since Sunday
I walk over to it
pick it up
it's cold
it's out of tune
but I play, and it's like my soul's being
rejuvenated, because I tore my eyes away from the screen
and decided to focus on what's important
what i need to do

illness can take away many things–
but don't let it.
illness isn't a tyrant
you are,
of yourself.

~ autumn's weekly #1: characters! ~
song: how you get the girl
chosen lyrics:
i want you for worse or for better
i would wait forever and ever
broke your heart, i'll put it back together
i want you forever and ever

~ part 1 ~
344 words
It was a rainy day outside, Aidan noticed through his window. The rain poured down from the sky, like a shower of tears from the clouds. Aidan couldn't help but smile wistfully as tears sprang to his eyes. He still remembered everything, no matter how hard he tried. How Tyler loved walking in the rain, no matter how hard it fell, or how wet he ended up getting. How he always used to buy cool umbrellas for Tyler to make him smile, since he constantly lost his. How one rainy day, they had confessed their love for each other. How on another rainy day, Aidan… No, now was not the time to dwell on this. “This is the part where you fix everything, Aidan,” he whispered to himself. “Apologize, sing your song, and just… hope he forgives you.” His voice cracked on the last part, but he just cleared his throat. “Time to get ready to go.” As he pulled his straight red hair into a tight bun, he couldn't help but hum his song a little, and search yet again for that sense of motivation…

Several days ago, Aidan had strummed his guitar thoughtfully. He tried out different chord progressions, different keys, different rhythms, different patterns… but nothing felt right. Sighing, Aidan put his guitar down, and tried to remember what had motivated him to write his best songs. The very first thing that came to mind was Tyler. There was no question. Little things, like the way Tyler could always make him laugh, how he made Aidan feel so loved and welcome just by being in the room… those were what really motivated him to sing. As tears started to spring to his eyes, he felt a sudden rush of inspiration. He picked up his guitar and started to strum. “I want you, for worse or for better,” he quietly sang a few times, playing around with the chords, blinking away the tears. Maybe this could help fix what he had done.

~ part 2 ~
character description
560 words (wow)
- demographics -
name : aidan
age : 21
gender : cisgender male
ethnicity : caucasian
occupation : popular musician
socioeconomic status : lower middle class
education : currently in college
- physical appearance -
eye color : hazel
skin color : fairly pale
hair color : he's a ginger
height : 6 foot tall
fitness level : fairly active; likes to run and bike for fun
tatoos : none
scars/birthmarks : scar on the top of his right hand from a fall
disabilities : no physical disabilities
fashion style : minimalist, often includes earth tones and comfortable clothes.
acessories : at least two necklaces and rings
cleanliness : he's a neat freak.
posture : perfect posture in public, relaxes more alone or with close freinds
tics : has one of those spinny rings and constantly fidgets with it when idle
coordination (or lack of) : sometimes clumsy, but can make up for it in carefulness
weaknesses : is physically strong but can easily be distracted.
- history -
birthday : december 3rd
place of birth : his hometown
key family members : has none. he's an orphan, and an only child. knows nothing of any of his other family members.
notable milestones : at about eight, he started learning guitar. he did musical theater up until 9th grade, when he decided to become a popular musician instead.
criminal record : none, he's very honest
affliations : college student, in a relationship with Tyler
skeletons in the closet : very self-deprecating, blames himself for all of his mistakes and faults. mainly, he blames himself for the fatal accident that occured to his childhood freind.
- psychological traits -
personality type : i'll mbti him later
peronality traits : loyal, cautious, careful, thoughtful, oragnized, methodical, creative
temperament : mostly patient, but stubborn, and when aggravated becomes snappy
introvert/extrovert : definitely an introvert.
educational background : valedictorian, currently in college studying music
intelligence : high. he's very smart logically.
self-esteem : very poor. he's not always confident that he can do things, even when he clearly can.
hobbies : likes to fold origami, often will keep a few tiny pieces of paper with him to fold when nervous
skills/talents : excellent guitar player and singer; great at composition and music theory, has a wide knowledge of different genres. very smart, a good problem solver.
loves : the outdoors, the autumn, feeling appreciated, tyler
morals/virtues : is very loyal and gets upset if others aren't. tries to always be honest, and does the best he can to be kind.
fears : being abandoned, not being accepted, being rejected
angered by : major dishonesty, deliberate psychological harm to others, racism, sexism, & homophobia
pet peeves : if there's anything on his hands and he has no way to wash it off, meaningless noises, country music
obsessed with : being loyal, being good enough for others' standards.
routines : has the same wake up routine, same exercise routine, similar practice routine, every single day. he loves routines
bad habits : when very stressed, he bites his fingernails. often lashes out at others when he's overwhelmed.
desires : to feel appreciated, to be viewed as talented, to find love
flaws : very opinionated and stubborn, can be a little inflexible
favorite sayings : “…what?” “lead the way.” “music is an art, but it's also a practiced one.”
disabilities : has ocd
secrets : none that are important
regrets : he'll always regret not telling his friend about himself, and he still regrets not trying to keep in touch with some of his old freinds.
accomplishments : has had a few songs played on the local radio station, released an album that was well-recieved

… i think that's good lmao

~ part 3 ~
559 words total
scene 1
It was a rainy day, and Aidan running in the park. It was a habit of his, especially when he was searching for inspiration. As a professional singer-songwriter, he had to constantly keep turning out good material. Only the songs that he and his producer deemed the very best would be released, in order to maintain Aidan's high-quality reputation. He had only written and released one album so far, over five years. Two months ago, his producer had told him that in order to continue to maintain, and hopefully grow his fanbase, he would need to put out another album soon - singles weren't enough.
As he ran through the pouring rain, earbuds in, hood up, he noticed something new. There was a boy sitting in the park's gazebo, watching the rain. Aidan had never seen anyone else in this area of the park when it was raining. He decided to go and talk to this mysterious boy. Even as he had that thought, he felt a lyric or two begin to form in his mind. He smiled - maybe this boy would be his new source of inspiration.
scene 2
Aidan was sitting in his room, guitar in lap and pencil in hand. It smelled vaguely of wax, the candles he had lit for ambiance burning. There was half-used staff paper scattered all over the floor, crinkled lined paper mixed in with it. He had been trying, desperately, to come up with something, anything, to use for a song, but he had been incredibly unsuccessful. Letting out a sigh, he put his pencil down - just as the doorbell rang. Aidan's heart leapt - he had forgotten all about Tyler coming over!
But rather than rush to clean up, he decided to simply let it be. If Tyler had a problem with a little mess, he doubted that they would be together.
Together. The word felt a little odd, even to think. How had he ended up with such an amazing boyfreind? Aidan wondered with a smile.
The doorbell rang again. “Coming!” Aidan shouted, setting his guitar down. Taking a little break from songwriting to try and get some inspiration couldn't hurt.
scene 3
“Aidan, I… why would you say something like that?” Tyler asked, tears forming in his eyes. “I thought… I though you loved me.”
“I do, really I do!” Aidan tried to say, but instead, all he heard was himself saying coldly, “I thought I did, before you tried to steal my sheet music.”
“I never… oh nevermind, you aren't going to listen. Maybe when you stop being such a stubborn jerk, you'll find that ‘inspiration’ you're always looking for. I would have helped you, if you'd just told me so. Goodbye, Aidan,” Tyler snapped back, slamming the door behind himself.
Aidan sat bolt upright. His heart was pounding, and there was a dull ache in his stomach. Had he really done that? Accused Tyler, his boyfreind, the only person he really trusted anymore, of trying to sabotage him?
He had, Aidan realized. “I screwed up, didn't I,” he whispered, feeling his own tears start to form. “I really messed up, and… now I don't know how to make it right.”
But even as he said this, an idea occured to him. He would need his guitar and a whole lot of nerve for this to work…

~ part 4 ~
i chose scene 2, which had 170 words. this piece has a total of 857 words. there are 687 new words.
Aidan was sitting in his room, guitar in lap and pencil in hand. It smelled vaguely of wax, the candles he had lit for ambiance burning. There was half-used staff paper scattered all over the floor, crinkled lined paper mixed in with it. He had been trying, desperately, to come up with something, anything, to use for a song, but he had been incredibly unsuccessful. Letting out a sigh, he put his pencil down - just as the doorbell rang. Aidan's heart leapt - he had forgotten all about Tyler coming over!
But rather than rush to clean up, he decided to simply let it be. If Tyler had a problem with a little mess, he doubted that they would be together.
Together. The word felt a little odd, even to think. How had he ended up with such an amazing boyfreind? Aidan wondered with a smile.
The doorbell rang again. “Coming!” Aidan shouted, setting his guitar down. Taking a little break from songwriting to try and get some inspiration couldn't hurt.
He opened the door, and Tyler was waiting on his doorstep, holding a little vase of flowers and some candles. “Hi, Aidan,” Tyler smiled. The two kissed briefly, and Tyler came inside. He set the flowers down on the table by Aidan's door. “I saw these at the store today, and I thought you might like a little more decoration,” Tyler explained, blushing slightly. “Ha! I think the last thing I need is more decorations, but those do look quite lovely. We'll see how long these last, what with my reputation as a plant killer.”
The two had a good laugh about this. Tyler loved to buy or make presents for people, and Aidan was no exception. Tyler had gifted him *dozens* of various plants, and Aidan had managed to kill all of them. The most recent potted plant, a simple succulent, had lasted about two weeks, and Tyler found it absolutely hilarious. “Someday I'll give you a plant that you can't kill,” Tyler said, determinedly. “You can try,” Aidan chuckled. “Honestly, I'm probably better off with the fake plants. I can't kill those.”
“Yes, but they're *fake*!” Tyler complained. “They aren't real plants. They have no history, no individuality. There's no music in them.”
“Plants have music?” Aidan asked, genuinely curious. “Tell me more.”
The two walked into Aidan's room. Aidan sat back down on his floor, and Tyler plopped down on his beanbag chair in the corner.
“All living things have a little bit of music in them, I think,” Tyler began to explain. “Sometimes you can hear it, sometimes not. Plants for me all have their own songs that they sing as they grow. When I try to capture some of their words, those tend to be my favorite poems.”
Aidan was a great musician, but Tyler was a true poet at heart - and a very excellent lyricist. His poetry served as the basis for lots of Aidan's songs, and he knew that without Tyler, his lyrics would not be as great as they were.
“What about people?” Aidan inquired, strumming a chord or two on his guitar. “Do people have songs?”
“Well, yes, actually,” Tyler replied with a smile. “You have to really get to know them, and trust them, in order for them to let you listen. But once you do, you can really hear their songs.”
“Do you know what my song sounds like?”
Tyler paused for a moment. He stared off into the distance, his thoughts seemingly wandering off for a moment. Then he turned to Aidan. “Pass me your guitar,” he asked. “I'll sing it for you.”

Aidan was a little surprised. He'd never heard Tyler sing before. He was transgender, and his singing voice often caused him a lot of dysphoria. His voice had gotten lower since his transition, but it was still only a solid alto when he sang. Aidan, knowing this, never asked Tyler to sing for him. He never wanted to hurt Tyler again, not after they had almost broken up last year.

Tyler started to sing, and when he did, Aidan was surprised. There were no words to it - Tyler only sang on a vowel. The melody was simple but melancholic and haunting; the guitar was not super involved, but Tyler's delicate strumming made the perfect support for it. As Aidan listened, he was surprised when it shifted into a glorious major tonality, with a similar melody that somehow conveyed all of the joy he'd felt. Right away, he started to sing a harmony part, providing the extra layer that it seemingly had wanted. The song finished with the two of them singing a perfect major third, and a wonderful guitar arpeggio.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. They just relished in the music they'd just heard.

“I've never been able to play anyone else's song before,” Tyler whispered, a little surprised. “I can hear them, but never play them.”
“That was wonderful,” Aidan whispered at the same time.
The two smiled at each other. Maybe this was the true reason people created music - to sing each other's songs, and make them heard.

Crim’s thread ☾ MOVED: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/723690/?page=1

Weekly 1: 1742 words

Part 1: 227 words
Song: Message in a Bottle by The Vault (Taylor's Version)
Lyrics chosen:
“Feeling like a face in the crowd
I’m reaching for you, terrified”

“Replaying your laughter”

“A message in a bottle is all I can do
Standing here hoping it gets to you”
———————
Maina's small head darted around the scene, hoping to get a glimpse of tthat familiar face in the crowd of multicoloured heads bobbig up and down. The atmospshere of airports sent bile up her throat and the all-to-same hubbub of mechanical anouncements and air of busybody unsettled her. But today, today, Maina had somehow decided to set that all sentimental stuff aside. Now was the time to focus.

Pushing her mouse-coloured hair aside, she reached into her baggy jeans pocket, pulling out the bottle. A coke bottle, probably scavenged from a tip, but with a small note scrawled hastily inside, the paper thinning from being folded for such a long time. It simply said:

“Meet me at the airport after your flight,
Around the cafe and shop area,
In the doughnut place.

I'll be there,
-D”

Maina, upon first reading it just as it arrived from the post, couldn't believe her luck. Her old friend, who has been away for such a long time, had returned to her hometown to visit. She knew that Maina's family always went away for the winter, often seeking tropical getaways like migrating birds. The girl recounted her friend's wheezing laughter, her bright, amber eyes lighting up with wonder at every small thing, her secret, giggling smirk.
“As if it was yesterday”, Maina whispered softly as she roamed through the bustling travelers, “But yet so long ago.”


Part 2: 109 words
Name: Maina L.
Occupation: schoolgirl
Species: Human
Strengths: Empathetic, great memory, daydreamy, but can also be very focused sometimes, quietly strong-willed
Weaknesses: overly sentimental sometimes, shy, overly emotional, terrible at lying and acting
General overview on life: free and peaceful
Tendencies: If one of her friends starts arguing with her she would burst into tears amd storm off, not talking to them ever again, she often tries to stop herself from laughing and it never works, she cracks trerrible puns and gets embarrased wafter she makes them, when she gets stage fright she will slowly shuffle into a corner and whisper her speech, leaving everyone confused… before running off embarrassed, and she often gets overwhelmed and nervous even just in a supermarket or restuarant.

Part 3: 700 words

Scenario 1: 220 words
Delilah was sitting ast the corner of the doughnut shop, slowly munching on a strawberry glazed pastry. her eyes lit up all the same as Maina shuffled towards her, and her mouth cracked to a wide grin.
“Maina!” She laughed. A genuine, happy thing, one that echoed age-old friendships and bonds.
Maina cracked a small smile back, "I… doughnut want to say I haven't missed you,“ She flushed red and her let out a small, strangled chuckle. Delilah rolled her eyes.
”I forgot you always cracked those goofy puns!"
Maina sighed as she settled herself down on a chair opposite. It had been so long since the two friends had seen each other. Three years, to be exact. Delilah pushed the small box of doughnuts she bought across the cafe table.
“Got a little gift for you,” she winked.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Maina grinned as she started to bite into a jam-filled bun. She sighed again, now, truly remembering how much she missed her friend. School has been going okay, but nothing has really been the same. In fact, throughout the years passed, Maina felt her self become more eager to keep her mouth shut, or back down from discussion. It was a nice change, for once, to have a someone who made small talk mean so less small.

Scenario 2: 256 words
The girl chewed slowly on her dull brown plait that was slowly loosening itself from the tight strands. Her legs started to tremble, I matter how many times maina silently scolded it to stop. Any moment they could give away. She could feel the whole class’ eyes bore into her face, eager, waiting. She could feel them tense up.
Any moment now,
Maina tried to take a deep breath, but I came out shaky; even breathing seemed out of the question. Her voice cracked the first words:
“Hello and welcome,”
A gaggle of classmates sniggered at the back of the class.
“To my present…ation. Today I will be talking about…?”
Oh-no-wait. What was she supposed to be talking about?
The whole room seemed to go hot all of the sudden. Maina knew she her face must look like a beetroot right now.
You could do it. Kids always laugh.
Her feet started to shuffle towards the board. It was as if her body knew it had to get away even though Maina decided to plough on.
“Today I will be talking about why and how axolotls are critically… critically… um… endangered.”
By now she was standing towards a corner of the classroom, and could see her teacher from their desk, looking up at her with raised eyebrows. Maina noticed suddenly the small hum of whispered conversation. No one seemed to care. No one seemed to notice.
Good, A Voice at the back of Maina’s head sneered. No one cares, no one will laugh at you. Simple.

Scenario 3: 224 words
“What was that all about?” Delilah frowned. “The shuffling back and everything. You did so well!”
Maina shrugged, not taking in her friend’s words.
“No one seemed to care.”
“I did!”
Maina looked up. Delilah crossed her arms and raised a perfect eyebrow.
“Oh…”
Delilah’s features softened.
“Look, I know that you have had some stage fright, but your supposed to be going forward! You need to step out to the stage, not away from it!”
“I know…”
“So?”
“Im totally fine,” Maina managed to break a small smile, but it almost ended up in a grimace. “It’s not I do have stage fright and that I’m all scared and anxious like you think I’ve totally have it in con-“ she halted, as if her mouth had magically snapped shut. The churning feeling in her stomach came again. Her throat slowly glued shut.
Delilah now looked worried, her lips pursed and her amber eyes wide.
“Maina, you don’t have to lie to me,” she began. “Keep trying to convince people and in the end the only thing you do is hysterical try it convince yourself. Be real now,”
“Fine.” Marina said curtly, her mind still faraway. “Maybe it’s just that everyone seemed to be staring at me.”
“Yea, that can get pretty uncanny,”
“Very uncanny,”
“More uncanny than the flippin’ Backrooms,”
Maina giggled. “Word!”


Part 4: 706 words
Maina shuffled from her space at the front of the class, trying to look at her frowning teacher. When she thought no one noticed, she quickly scooted back to her seat at the back of the class, keeping her head down. Delilah shot her an accusatory glare from the corner of Maina’s eye.
The rest if that lesson seem to come in a dreamy blur, as if reality has taken the place of Maina’s dreams. It was those times that happened when Maina wanted to cut herself off from the rest of the world and safely escape to her own little dreamy haven of fantasies.

The girl sitting next to Maina tried to click her fingers to wake her from her stupor.
“Earth to Maina, are you there?” The girl said with and edge to her voice. Maina perked up, and shook her head, readjusting her vision and quickly surveying the room. Everyone seemed to be finishing up on some worksheet if sorts, and started it pack up, pulling in coats and stuffing books into bags. She looked down at the one in front of her. Luckily, it was so easy Maina seemed to do it in her sleep.
Maina felt her eyebrows raise, and risked a quick look in Delilah’s direction. Delilah seemed to of not stopped in her scowling. Marina shook her head and started to copy everyone else’s movements.

In a few short, swift steps Delilah caught up with her friend, who was in trudging down the corridor.
“Maina,” she called. Maina turned around, to not look rude. “Maina, are you okay?”
Maina nodded slowly. How often she got asked this question.
“I’m fine. Remember, I just look sad. See?” She did a quick scan of herself,”I’m feeling pretty good,”
Delilah shook her head.
“No, like, I know you’re all good now, but what about what happened in class? With your speech and everything?”
“Oh, that?” Maina head jerked away. She didn’t want an argument, not now. Everything went decently today. Conflict had done nothing but make the world feel worse.
“I’m not here to pick an argument,” Maina’s friend managed to read her mind.
Delilah crossed her arms, and slowly started to continue walking towards the school gates. Maina still tried to avert any confrontation possible.
“Yeah well, it’s just stage fright, and there nothing wrong with that,”
Delilah sighed.
“Ok, if you say so,”

“Delilah,” Maina mused. “Do you think that feeling will ever go away?”
“What feeling?”
“Like… that you still need to do things. Like there something that you still need to do but you have read you to-do lists over and over again and you have ticked off everything but there is still one more thing-“
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know. I just feel like I’m missing out on something important, but like in my life, not like the same way you get FOMO,”
A thoughtful silence sighed in between them, and lingered there for a few minutes.
“Maybe,” Delilah said sagely. “You just haven’t found something yet. Or maybe you haven’t fold yourself.”
“Myself?”
“Aren’t there loads of time in life where you just surprise yourself? Like the other day for me, when I wrote a whole page under twenty minutes in Geography.”
“Are you never going to let go of that one?!” Maina made a little noise that was cross between a hopeless sigh and a laugh.
“Oh, now, you know me.” Delilah winked. “Anyways, as I was saying, you could just be misunderstanding yourself. You just need to look at yourself in a different way. Like, stop trying to doubt so much. Maybe start, like, telling yourself that you can be smart and confident and everything. Because you’re then believing that and then you start acting like it.”
“Like gaslighting??”
“Yeah, but in a good way of course.”
Maina turned to face Delilah and grinned. It was typical Delilah, giving people life advice and somehow getting them to agree with her. It was a mystery how she did it.
“Life Hacks with Delilah. Thanks!” She gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up.
“No problem! I’m 24/7,” Delilah gave a thumbs-up back.
And the two walked on, as the sky started to tinge a faint orange.

Nickname - Ava
Content - Weekly 1 (November 2nd - November 9th)
Cabin - Mystery

Part 1

Wordcount- 302/100

• …For the first part of this weekly, we will be looking at inspiration and how to use it to your advantage…
  

• …First, get a random TS song…
  

• …Choose 1-5 lines that speak to you the most. Once you have chosen your lines, examine them carefully. How could you create a character out of them, how could you design their personalities or state of mind using these lyrics?…
  

• …Write 200 words, focusing on character development through description and dialogue. In this character development, you should include personality traits, character background, and the physical description of the character…
  

My song: I Think He Knows (SQUEEEEE-)
1. I think he knows
2. His footprints on the sidewalk
3. He'd better lock it down
4. I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans
5. Wanna see what's under that attitude

It was an unhealthy obsession, how Jayleen would stay up late on her case. Her dark circles were more than prominent. She was pretty sure she was going paranoid, but she was also sure that everything she was doing was leading her to her target.

And he knows I'm coming for him. At least, I think he knows. Oh, who are you kidding, Jayleen? Of course, he knows.

Tracing back to the messy papers on her desk, her eyes caught sight of a bright white non-crumpled sheet that she hadn't seen the night before. It must've been dropped off by the forensics department (Considering the stamping), which was too sympathetic to wake her up from her one-hour nap (and probably the only sleep she would be getting for a long time.)

Reading the paper slowly, Jayleen saw a picture of footprints on the sidewalks, just a few blocks away from where she was right now. Listed below were the words:

Evidence Tested. Leads Back To Target 1637 Shoes, Found Five Days Ago.

Jayleen muttered something to herself, grabbing the paper in her left hand and her coat in the right, rushing to the area where the picture had been taken.

He better lock it down. I'm not giving up till I find him.

Dirty (Literally) Blonde Hair in a messy bun, her green eyes searched vigilantly on the sidewalks, pacing back and forth, earning stares from other people. As a former architect, she measured the brick size from the picture, calculated how far it might have been taken, and retraced her steps, taking another right instead of a left.

I'll find you. I need to know what gets you going: what's under that attitude, that facade. You've got it coming, and I won't hold back like last time.

Part 2

Wordcount- 104/100

• …For the second section of this weekly, we'll be taking a look at further developing your character further through the use of character sheets!…
  

• …In this section, you'll be filling out your very own character sheet - you should ensure you've written at least 100 words in total from your answers to the questions…
  

Character: Jayleen Ochoa

Gender: Female

Nationality: Half Spanish, Half British

Hair: Dirty Blonde, Long (Reaches upto her thighs)

Eyes: Piercing Green (Seriously, they'll scare the * outta you)

Skin: tanned (More on the lightish side)

Qualities (Good): Ambitious, Jack-of-all-trades, Aware of her surroundings, Secret Keeper

Qualities (Bad): Works too hard (Way too stressful on herself), Sometimes Paranoid, Doesn't know when to give up/Stop, Pulls all-nighters most of the time

Qualities (Neutral): Can't make friends and would rather observe people from a distance, Is a usual coffee drinker, Knows how to pick a lock, Has a high pain tolerance

Type: Protagonist (Lead)

Species: Human

Part 3

• …In this section, we'll be exploring character motives!…
  

• …have a look at this lovely workshop written by Gigi…
  

• …Using what you've just learned, put the character you created from the last two activities into three different scenarios to develop what their motives are…
  

• …Each scene should be at least 150 words long…
  

Scene 1

Wordcount- 150/150

Jayleen Ochoa had no relatives, no people to call a family, no home to go to. So, the day the people found her, wet and cold, hiding behind two trees, she was sent to an orphanage.

At the age of twelve she had run away, confident she could survive on her own.

The twelve-year-old Jayleen passed streetlamps and jumped over gutters, running away from the people she pickpocketed. I just need thirty more dollars, she thought to herself, easily losing her pursuers, climbing up a wall with agility, and sliding down the drainpipe.

Thirty more dollars, thirty more dollars to rent that basement.

And we aren't even starting with the school fees yet.

Grabbing a piece of bread through a window, she started to run again, hearing a scream emit from the flat that she had popped her head into.

Oh well. It's food, I guess.

Scene 2

Wordcount- 174/150

Focused only on the painting, Jayleen dipped her brush in red paint once more, painting a streak across the sky on her canvas, satisfiedly smiling. Now that her painting was finished, she could quit art and start something else.

Writing?
Crime?
Architecture?

Jayleen could not do one thing for too long. She was always on the lookout to do something else: the day she had nothing else to do was the day she would rather die than continue living in this boring world. She always changed her lifestyle at least once every month, trying new things so that she wouldn't get bored: her worst fear, whether she was on the run, or safe and sound. And it didn't help that Jayleen was a pretty fast learner.

If there was nothing left for me to do, what's the point of even living?

Cleaning up her easel, she began to walk towards her art teacher, readying herself for his explosive reaction when she told him one of his best students was about to quit.

Scene 3

Wordcount- 175/100

Bitter tears fell out of Jayleen's eyes as she saw her first ever bicycle which had lasted five years being stolen by a group of bigger boys. She could hear their laughter from across the street as they unnecessarily rang her cycle bell, the biggest one riding the beautiful blue bike.

It was since then that Jayleen had wanted to be a police officer. A silly thing to cause such motivation, but it was the only thing she stuck to, which she had not quit. Which was pretty ironic, since she had caused eighty percent of pickpocketing in the neighborhood as a young girl.

But as she watched them jaunt and tease her, picking up her cycle and waving it, on the verge of dropping it on the ground, she stalked up to them and punched them, before grabbing her cycle and pedaling to her house, committed to searching up every law school in the area.

Nobody had ever thought Jocelyn Ochoa, the constantly shifting girl would finally settle down. But hey, miracles happen, right?

Part 4

Wordcount (new words)- 508/500

• …You've just created three beautiful scenarios…
  

• …pick your favorite and expand on it, writing at least 500 new words and tying in at least 3 things from your character sheet…
  

Jayleen Ochoa had no relatives, no people to call a family, no home to go to. So, the day the people found her, wet and cold, hiding behind two trees, she was sent to an orphanage. It had dirty yellow walls, but the insides were not as bad as she thought: sharing a dormitory with at least seven girls, she would spend sleepless nights looking out of the window, her blonde hair falling in front of her eyes, as she thought about what she could have done if her parents had not left her.

At the age of twelve she had run away, confident she could survive on her own. That confidence only lasted till she realized she had nowhere to stay. So, instead, she started to search for places to rent out and stay until she had collected enough to buy that small cottage on the hill. Every time anybody came across the cozy building, she would stand around it and glare, as if she owned it. They promptly went away, not liking the sharp look in her green eyes.

The twelve-year-old Jayleen passed streetlamps and jumped over gutters, running away from the people she pickpocketed. I just need thirty more dollars, she thought to herself, easily losing her pursuers, climbing up a wall with agility, and sliding down the drainpipe. Her feet stopped at a small ledge, still clinging to the drainpipe, when she saw a wallet on a windowsill. She promptly snatched it.

Thirty more dollars, thirty more dollars to rent that basement. After checking with the owner who was offering to rent it to her, they had quickly caught on that she had absolutely no money, and raised the price higher from 70 dollars to 100. She tried not to argue, but couldn't do much about it, really.

And we aren't even starting with the school fees yet. Yup, school. Though Jayleen had to admit that the coaching sessions given to her (and her fellow…orphans? classmates?) by the orphanage master were pretty boring, and she almost always got in trouble for falling asleep, she realized it was pretty important if she wanted to, for starters, stopped getting bullied all the time as the “schoolless kid”, but it was also pretty important if she wanted to get a job and have even the tiniest amount of income.

Grabbing a piece of bread through the window as well, she slid down the pipe and started to run again, hearing a scream emit from the flat that she had popped her head into. She peered at the screaming face from the corner of her eyes and giggled as the woman with a face mask on shouted her head off at Jayleen while she smoothly took a right and escaped the sight of the face-mask lady. It looked pretty hilarious to her- and it earned a good lot of stares from people at other windows.

Oh well. It's food, I guess. Biting into the bread, she swallowed it, trying not to choke, and decided to go try and steal some bottles of water from that convenience store nearby. She could've easily bought them, but Jayleen was saving everything she currently had just to rent that basement for a month, and then accumulate enough money to buy the cottage. It attracted her unreasonable: perhaps it was the yellow walls, leading back to the memory of her orphanage. She hadn't exactly liked that place, but maybe it held more memories than she thought it did.

And the view of the ocean had Jayleen by a chokehold. It was breathless to climb up and just watch the sea: smell the salty air and feel the breeze. It was a sensation that she was never able to experience in the orphanage at all, and she was determined to live right next to the sand and the water.

I don't need parents anyway. Can't miss what you don't know.

Go back home here

nickname: Elli
cabin: sci-fi
words: 337

some random piece i wrote, here goes (some background to my trilogy of original songs “Directions” consisting of “Teardown” , “Forgotten” and “Delta”)



She stood on the edge of the overpass, an enormous ocean sprawling out indefinitely beyond. She didn't know how long she'd been staring, or how the amazing, indescribable, almost nostalgic feeling had come again, but all she could do was focus on that very moment. The dappled sunset reflecting off the small peaks coming and going from the surface of the sea, the empty city behind her, it all was like a dream.

She had been vacationing with her family. She was a young child, no older than eight. Her mother was driving the car across a long bridge to the island, and to their hotel. She looked out the window and saw it again, the ocean, infinite in every direction. They continued down the bridge for many more minutes, until they finally saw the island in the distance.

She looked onward even longer, and more memories came.

It was her twelfth birthday, and she and some friends hung out at a local lake beach. They stayed long into the evening, and just after the cake and ice cream, a lifeguard came by to tell them the beach was closed. The friend group were the only people there, and something just felt…off about it. Just as her friends were packing their things and starting to walk back to their cars, the water again caught her eye. The lake was even more stunning than she'd ever remembered…

She couldn't close her eyes, or pull away from the edge of the overpass, it was all too beautiful.

The hotel was right on the beach. She'd changed into her swimsuit and gone out the back door of the hotel room, with her mother, to walk along the beach, late at night. The moon was full that night, shining like an enormous flashlight had been pointed at the water. The sand felt so relaxing on her feet, and made the slightest crunch with every step. It was all just perfect. No other words, but perfect.

It's like nothing ever changed.




if you guys want to check out “Teardown” it's on my profile!

word count - 416 words (daily 2)

Dear Future Alana,

If you're reading this, I hope you're doing well. Probably 3 months into school by now, and exams are approaching in the shadows :0 (but I'm sure you'll do fine ahah). I know right now you're a bit mixed on everything - not necessarily busy, but just simply feeling overwhelmed and stressed at the same time. One thing I do have to ask though is, how are those CC questions coming along? Right now they're super annoying and I can't stand them one bit.

I'm currently working on CC # 8 as I'm writing this letter to you, and hopefully, we're approaching the end of those. Those aside, no matter what it is, just remember that you've got this and that I'll always be there for you <3 As for school, I'm not really sure what exactly to tell you or ask you. Maybe perhaps- how's that Halloween candy stash coming along? Did you end up finishing it all? I know you did take a bunch to school today which I do have to agree is a great idea - but in all honesty, I do think that you'll end up eating it all.

I believe you're also learning a new dance for your show in May right now. I hope that you continue your passion for that despite how busy your studies get because it truly means a lot to me. Dance has shaped us into the person we are today, so just make sure you always let your inner self shine ;D. At this point, I feel like I'm ranting or something. I have a lot to tell you, though most of those are getting quite personal. What I do know is that you are so amazing and I am so proud of everything you have accomplished so far this year.

I know looking back at this at the end of the session, you'll definitely have a look of grimace on your face - which is what I'm hoping for. Having that will definitely showcase my improvement in writing and how much I have developed my writing style over the past month. In previous sessions, I've always just written stuff to simply just write, but this session I would also like to try and write with some sense of meaning; and a greater purpose. By doing that, I aspire to push my writing to the next level both in grammar and sentence structure, but also in terms of content.

Love you lots,
Present Alana <3

MAIN CABIN DAILY 11/2
# 383 words

to elliott in approximately twenty-eight days:

you and i both know how much we detest writing these letters. i can’t imagine how i’ll write a hundred words, let alone three hundred fifty. (like that, i suppose – by typing out every individual word. i prefer the numbers.) however, this daily is worth four hundred points if i complete it, so i shall persevere.

it’s interesting; both the main cabin daily and fairy tale’s in-cabin daily were about goal-setting. great minds think alike. (i somewhat recently learned that the end of that saying is “but fools rarely differ.” this is not applicable here.) my goals for the main cabin were to write ten thousand words of my work-in-progress, meet my word count goal, and finish the book of poetry i’m reading. i reused the first in my in-cabin daily, but my other two goals were to complete two weeklies and five dailies.

meeting my word goal and completing the dailies i am confident about. it’s the others that i am uncertain of. i’m reading four other books, all of which are, frankly, more interesting than the book of poetry; i may finish it eventually, but i am unsure if it will be during november. as for writing ten thousand words, that’s less than my word goal, but i struggle to commit myself to a single project. this will be a challenge, i expect. finally, completing two weeklies doesn’t sound like much, but in the past, i ran out of time and didn’t finish even one. i would like to change that this session.

then again, what point is there in a goal that is easily obtained? of course, there’s no point in a goal that is far out of reach; i’ve attended more than enough seminars on goal-setting and have personal experience that proves this. a good goal is one that you must strive for but is not beyond your capabilities. a goal pushes you to strain yourself, not to tear yourself apart trying to accomplish it.

i’d consider myself rather good at goal-setting. i know what i am capable of within a set period of time; as long as i stay focused, most of my goals are achievable. hopefully, the end of this session won’t prove me a hypocrite.

good day, future me!

DAILY, NOVEMBER SECOND

hey there, future me!

you know the drill. it has come time to either write a letter to the future or read a letter from the past!! that is very exciting for you, future me, I'm sure. we dont normally do stuff like this, so its a new and fun experience! and unlike those really time capsules we made at school (i dread to think of what we will find in senior year…), i can be honest to both myself and future me.

but, as a past you to a present you, i know who you are. so we are starting with self-care. have you taken a break from the internet, or are your eyes dying as we speak? if you have been making some tough choices, take a break. if you've been scratching at your hands and wrists again, let diane know. if you didn't and it already was done and/or bled, talk to diane regardless. drink water, you dehydrated duck. we both know you suck at keeping hydrated.

whoo! safety psa over. if you have dine all those things, i pose one last question: have you done your homework? kidding. just remember to do that either after this or during study hall.

so during this swc, did you get to revive any of our old works? i know we were considering either the bait or the control saga we made, and i honestly can't decide which one to revive! but im sure that future me (you, i guess?) has already worked that all out. also have you created anything new? or added onto the nerium series we were writing? i mean, with all do respect, it was BANGER. gay love wins!! or it kind of does. does it count if one of them gets poisoned …tell me if you know the answer haha

also, future me, how's the grades going? still being a (quote unquote) “”academic weapon?“” or did we absolutely flunk that test i should have probably studied for in retrospective? tell me, o' wizened me! also if you somehow find a way to send a letter to the past, just so you know, i am still expecting those lotto numbers. >:]

on that note, onto the fanwork. how's are the fanfictions we wanted to write? assuming if you wrote them (if not, GET WRITING!! /j), of course. hopefully you know what i'm talking about. if not, here's a hint :: one of them involves a back-to-the-future type rv. the other is an apocalypse type thing. hopefully that has refreshed your recollection. tell me ALL about it, alright future me? and diane, too. she deserves to be our epic-est beta reader. as usual

also, did we get to pirate lmk, rottmnt, rottmnt the movie, and mutant mayhem yet? if not, we still have time lol. but i honestly think my brain will explode (/j) if I continue to be denied my natural right to comfort content.

wow, would you look at that? we're approaching five hundred words! YAY WE JUST GOT 500 WORDS, WE CAN WRAP UP HERE. BYEEEE FUTURE ME!! HAVE A GOOD DAY, NIGHT, OR AFTERNOON!! AND GO TO SLEEP AT A DECENT TIME FOR ONCE, OR YOU WILL REGRET IT!!

✨Bookie's Booklet✨
-Dailies-
1 - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7622735/
2 - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7625244/
3 - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7652085/
5 - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7659800/
6 - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7662962/
-Weeklies-
1 - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7639304/
2 - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7655542/
-Additional Proof-

-Writing Comp Entry/Entries-

1: Letter to Future Self
Word Count: 374/350
Date Completed (for me): 11/2/23
Time Completed (UTC): 9:10pm
Time Completed (MST): 3:10pm
Link to Booklet: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7622714/

Dear End of November Bookie,
Hi! How’s it going? I hope it's going well and steampunk is crushing all of the competition. How many words have you written? Hopefully, you're doing good. You’d better be writing consistently. Here are some plans that I hope you have followed through on.
Actually finished planning Nightlight and moved on to the first draft
Created and fleshed out Quinn’s backstory
Wrote nearly every day (aside from rping)
Did at least two weeklies
Did at least ¾ of the dailies
Practiced making characters
Anyway, I’m hoping that you’re expanding your knowledge of writing and practicing a lot more. While you’re not doing NANOWRIMO specifically I hope you’re at least trying to do a little bit of it. I really hope that you’re also balancing SWC with your life. Also, PLEASE tell me that you’ve prioritized your mental health because I’m writing this not feeling the greatest, and I hope that that’s changed.
Know that you’re a great writer (one that can always improve but still) and that you can get to whatever goal that you want to reach. It isn’t cringy if you don’t think of it that way, so don’t think of your writing like a five-year-old wrote it. It’s good enough, though it can be improved. Don’t beat yourself up if you don’t do something perfectly. Be critical, but don’t hate yourself.
Things that you can improve on are being more consistent. I’ve tried to set apart an hour each day to write, so I hope you’ve kept up on that. It’s important, SO DO IT EVEN OUTSIDE OF SWC. Make sure to share your writing and don’t be embarrassed.
Hm, anything else for you? I’d probably just say to branch out from using Rose in your writing. Maybe even make new characters for each daily you’re able to. (I guess that you probably don’t have many left to do but this can apply for other things outside of it too) Please try to write as much as you can even out of SWC, it helps. Get into the mood and just do it!
All in all, I’m proud of you for getting through another SWC session, and I hope that you’ve made some great new friends!