Dear America Books are FAKE!!!

When I was nine, there was nothing I loved to read more than those Dear America books for kids. My adventure-loving mind gobbled up every bit of the supposed diaries of real girls throughout history. A compulsive diary writer even then, I loved the thought of reading actual girl’s diaries. What a fascinating thought that their journals had been preserved so long.

Your life is nothing but a lie, Julie

One day, I picked up a book “written by a little Jewish girl during the Holocaust.” At the time I was very interested in the authors name printed on the inside cover of a book. That was mostly because I dreamt of someday seeing my own name printed on the inside of my own novel. After I read the name, I wished that I had never let my eyes drift past the pages of the book. The book was not written by a real little girl. The name was totally different than the name of the star of the book. For a moment I sat in shock. After rereading it, I had a sudden vision of a lying, sniveling insect of an old lady who pretended to be a little girl all for money. How could anyone stoop so low? I couldn’t even fathom it. I screamed and hurled down that grimy book.
Later that evening I told my mother about my horrific discovery, hoping that somehow I’d been mistaken. Perhaps she would assure me that the book really was written by a girl in history, and simply edited by an old lady. Instead, she confirmed my fears. Having been obsessed with the books, I felt that my entire life was a fallacy. The next few nights I couldn’t sleep. Instead I plotted revenge against that insect; I may have been small but I planned to make that con artist pay.
The realization that I was reading a lie denied every hope I had. I’d imagined my own diary becoming an epic novel which girls of the future would read. That dream gave me energy and a reason to write.When I found out my favorite true stories were fiction, my faith in myself was decimated.
Eventually my rage subsided and was replaced by a faint sickness in the pit of my stomach which was released whenever I was reminded of how I'd been fooled.
Sure, these books may be educational. They, when seen for their true selves, are a fun way of taking a peek into history. Yet I don’t think I can ever come to terms with those feelings of being tricked. I can’t see myself ever allowing a child to believe Dear America books were really a little girl’s diary.
So now you know why last week I was so upset at seeing my little sister reading a Dear America book about a little Jewish girl in the Holocaust.

Submit Your Short Story!

If you're waiting to get published and don't know how to get there, the best way is to submit a short story or essay into a contest. The easiest way to get started is to search "writing contest" on Google. The best contests to enter are ones with no initial entry fee. That way, if you don't win anything, you won't feel like you lost money. Choose your contest carefully! If you pick one that is geared toward a subject you have little or no aptitude for, there's a good likelihood that you won't win. Also contests with prizes that motivate you are also good choices. If you are motivated, you'll write as well as you possibly can.

I've entered my short stories into contests and magazines many times, and have won. Winning contests is wonderful! You will feel confident, and you'll believe that you really can write well!

There is the possibility that you will lose a contest. Finding out that you haven't won is painful and one of the most discouraging things that can happen to a writer. It's like being told that you can't write well at all. What must be understood is that there are hundreds of entries, and yours may not have met the criteria exactly. It doesn't mean that you wrote poorly, it means you didn't write what the judges wanted.

When your short story is rejected, don't give up. Submit your work to other contests, and maybe you'll be lucky.

Some tips on submitting your short story are:

• Make your first sentence capture the judges. I read in a writing book that judges read the first sentence, and either consider it or toss it.
• Keep the judges interested all the way through your short.
• Follow the rules! This rule is critical.
• If you write a cover letter, don't bribe or beg the judges to publish your work.
  Be polite.

Good luck!

The Importance Of a Writing Journal

Keep a writer's notebook at all times!!! I will admit that I am really bad at keeping up with my notebook. The main reason for this is that most of my ideas come to me in the evening when I'm too tired and lazy to write it down.
This is horrible!!!!! If I have an idea in the middle of the night I usually think, "I'll remember it until the morning, then I'll write it down. "
I forget it over the course of the night. How frustrating can you get?

Why should you keep a writer's journal?
I'll give you some reasons why.

1. When having a writer's block, you can go and dig up an old idea.
2. You can use your writer's journal for your short story skeleton.
3. You won't ever forget those amazing ideas again!
4. You won't have to use pages of your everyday journal on your writing notes.
5. Your life as a writer will be ever so much simpler.

Enjoy your writing journal!

Capture Your Childhood

When I was six years old, my sister in law gave me my first diary. Since then, I've been dedicated to my diary and have written nearly every day.
It's very interesting to read my old journals. In a way, I can relive my past, and feel like a kid again.
My 6-year-old self is embodied in my writings. Here's a diary entry I wrote at the age of seven. I hope you appreciate it.

June 10th
Today was merry! Mom said we couldn't play outside because Dad put pesticide all over the house. Mom went to the Refrigoration Co. I think it was called that. She wanted to get some filters for the air conditioner. I am getting better at standing on my head. Bonanza was about Adam getting married! The lady Adam married had a daughter around my age. Dad read some of my diary. We sold the house.
Bye!

Perfecting my head stand is something I still haven't done, and the house wasn't sold until a year later. But, if you think about it, something is captured in this entry. For another of my childhood writings, go here: http://rockymountainkidskorner.com/OuterSpace%20Parents.htm

No matter how old you are, write in your diary because you are preserving a memory. And that's an incredible thing.

National Short Story Month

May is National Short Story Month!
In 2007, the Emerging Writers Network kicked off the very first National Writers Month.

“There’s a national poetry month, and I think there should be a national short-story month, too. It’s a very American form," says Larry Dark, director of The Story Prize, and one of the first people to initiate the month long event.

So how should writers and readers celebrate?
Write a short story of your own!

• Get together with friends and family and have a writing celebration. In the first week of May, prepare your short story skeleton. Make your plot fun and exciting, because you're going to share your story with others. You don't want them to fall asleep.

• Write your short story during the remainder of the month. Have fun; don't concern yourself too much about the quality. On May 31st, have a party. You can eat hors' d'oeuvres, bake a cake, and celebrate.  Read your short stories to one another, have a laugh, and enjoy yourself! Since it's springtime,  I'll leave you with this gorgeous photo of apple blossoms.

Happy National Short Story Month!! 
And Happy Cinco De Mayo!

A WRITERS BLOCK

I have a writers block right now and that's why I'm writing an entry about it. I've tried two different ideas for an entry but can't write anything that sounds halfway intelligent. I'm so aggravated with myself that I have no motivation to write a blog post. But it's been nearly a week, so I have to write something.
I had a chronic case of writers block in 2008. The affliction just kept getting worse until the end of '09. Happily, this year it is mostly gone.
Sometimes the products of a frustrating writer's block turn out to be popular articles. Read A Revolting Week for a great example of a success story.
I listen to music to not only calm my rattled nerves, but to help me write. Most writers agree that some types of music are helpful when you write. I recommend Yanni's Nightingale unless you're writing a fast- paced action scene.



If you try to begin a short story, but don't write a skeleton first, you may suffer a writers block. I experience this all the time because I often sit down at the computer with the intention of writing a story for no reason other than I just feel like it.

Sometimes it's hard to be patient with a writers block. I nearly gave up writing during my chronic writers block. If you just persist the writers block will go away. If you have true ardor for writing, you can beat the block.

Short Story Skeleton

A ghostly white form with craters for eyes is walking toward you. All you did was decide to start a short story, and this bony humanoid is telling you it's a necessary part of your writing experience. Don't scream in horror, it's only the skeleton of your short story.

Everything substantial has a skeleton, and a short story is one of them. A story's "skeleton" is merely the fundamental beginnings of your story. Every good writer thinks and plans their story before actually starting to write. Before you write the first sentence, you'll need to make out a blueprint for your story. Here are some rules and tips:

1. Your passion for your story is crucial. If you don't have a deep, burning desire to write your story, it'll never get done. How the writer feels about a book really shows. Think about your story all the time, and have faith in it. Don't ever make the fatal mistake of letting yourself think a perfectly fine idea is wrong because you don't have enough experience, or because your last story was rejected. 
2. An idea journal is also important. Buy a small notepad and whenever you have an idea for your book, write it down. Here are a few examples of how you should do this:

4.20.10
I was reading a book last night and thought of something. My heroine is going to be the daughter of a lawyer and his wife is a cashier at the local grocery.
4.22.10
This morning I realized my heroine's name. It will be Vicki. 
4.23.10
I think in the end Vicki will be in a field, beginning her first novel. I just feel it seems right....my thoughts may change later in the writing. 
4.25.10
I thought of a name for my story. It will be The Precaution. 

 3. Be patient, because creating your skeleton is a process which will make you quite eager to begin your manuscript. A tip to remember is not to start writing until you can tell the story of your characters life beginning to end; even what happens after the curtains are closed to the reader.

4.  If you are interested in art, you might want to draw pictures of incidents in your character's life. The visual experience may help you to gain insight into your characters and also to make you more motivated. If you don't like drawing, you can just write mini-stories about your character. I'm pretty sure you like to write!

These were just some ideas for creating a skeleton for your short story. Just remember, if you're afraid of it, you can scare the skeleton itself. When your short story's skeleton is afraid it collapses. Those brittle bones just might break if you don't do it right. Be brave and enjoy!

Write a Short Story

Short stories are my expertise. They're quick, easy, and the plot is easily and speedily developed.  A short story is any story under 7500 words in length. My story Goodbye Earth is 1700 words long, and is a very short story. If you enjoy writing and don't feel like writing a 200,000+ word epic novel, maybe you should try writing a short story. Anyway if it gets rejected by publishers you might not feel as bad. I only type at 38 wpm (errors deducted), so it would take me a long time to write a long story. I was astonished at how quickly people write long novels. I take about a month to write 25 pages. That's pretty sad.
So, if you're sick of trying to write a long novel, try writing short fiction.
Here are some questions you should ask yourself before attempting to write a short story.
Have I written numerous very short stories?
Am I comfortable with typing?
Do I love to write?
Am I ready to edit my short story honestly?

If you answered yes to all those questions, then the answer to the question "Can I write a short story?" is YES! Also I recommend taking a test to see how many words per minute you can type. Leave me a comment about your results!
http://www.typingtest.com/

If you want to get your start in magazines, it's good to know how to keep your first draft short. Isn't it horrible to leave your story frail and dying from page removal just to get it short enough to enter into a magazine or contest?

Dream Diary

The other night, I had a dream which kept pestering me. I couldn't get the thought out of my head and it was driving me batty! I tossed and turned in a half-awake state for about an hour. I decided that maybe this was "inspiration knocking", so I pulled out my journal and wrote it down. The dream disappeared. A lot of my short stories started out as dreams, and scenes in some of my stories are extracted from dreams.
Stephenie Meyers dreamed up Twilight, and Mary Shelley dreamed the idea for Frankenstein. Both of these novels were huge successes and later, movie franchises.
 The wonderful thing is that when you're young, you'll dream more than your grandparents do! At the age of 19-30 years old, one has their peak percentage of REM sleep. Guess what? Mary Shelley was 19 years old when she dreamed about Frankenstein, and Stephenie Meyers was 30 when she dreamed of Twilight.
I read that people should keep a tape recorder next to their bed and record their dreams vocally. This way that inspiration can be preserved. Often, you think that you'll remember the dream all night and when you wake up you can't remember it.
The sleeping state really helps to get your mind working. As soon as you wake up, write random things, and surprise yourself at what amazing things you thought of.
I'll leave you with  five common dreams and their interpretations.

1. Being chased means that you are afraid of something in your real life, and that you're trying to escape a consequence or something that is happening.
2. Help!!!! You're in the middle of the grocery store, look down and realize you're not wearing clothes. Being naked in a dream means you're afraid of being seen for who you really are. Also it could mean that you want to be seen for who you really are.
3. Water is a common symbol in dreams. A few drops of water signifies forgiveness. Murky water signals problems ahead. Waterfalls mean abundance in your future. Calm smooth water is a good omen.
4. Dreams of your teeth falling out reflects a lack of self esteem and a bad body image. People who fear of getting old and ugly may dream that their teeth are falling out, or crumbling in their hands.

Journal Journeys

Are you an avid diary writer? If you are reading this blog right now, I am guessing that you have some interest in writing. Writing in a diary is the best way to get out your feelings on paper and to stimulate your writing brain.
I am obsessed with diary writing. When I write in my diary, I am making myself immortal through my life in writings. I am passing on a legacy through the pages of my diary. I imagine futuristic societies reading my diary and using it as a portal to enter the past. I make sure to refer to popular music, fads, and fashion in order to preserve the essence of my day and age. One of my mom’s Facebook friends has the right idea. Back in the 80’s he took video of parties and other social gatherings. He captured not only a time, but also a completely different era through his videos.
I try to do this same thing with my diary. It is so much fun if you have a leaning for writing, and if you do not like writing and would like to start, diary writing is a great beginning. I am working on my sixth diary, and have been writing in my diary for seven years. Currently I have just started a 400 page one with large pages since my last one only lasted for about 2.5 months. It was about 90 pages long. To make your diary writing experience more fun, here are some of my favorite boredom busters:

• Tape photos into the pages.
• Do not write when you do not feel like it, but consider writing a commitment.
• Read your old diaries occasionally. Sometimes you have to realize how you love reading your diary before you can write.
• If you haven't had children yet, write for your future offspring. I know that I would love to have read my mother's childhood diaries!
• Also, imagine archeologists brushing dust off your tattered diary, reading it and turning it into a movie.

If you do the last one, just remember that you will be dead by then (hopefully), and the movie will not humiliate you eternally. At least I hope not.

Don't lose another moment of your life-record it all today!

Pea Brains Not Allowed

Yesterday I found myself reading a website which I had in past months determined to be only suitable for elderly folks. I had the impression that the articles were created for relaxing inspiration. Upon reading two of the site's columns I was surprised to discover them surprisingly witty.

One was written by a man, the other by his wife. The woman's column shocked me with its lack of sugariness, and the man's was incredibly fresh and smart. I know what I am-I'm critical and close minded about everything which doesn't apply to me. I was glad I'd finally read these articles.

What a disadvantage it is to be narrow minded! Reading can enrich our lives and minds, but this can't be achieved if you don't accept new things. It's often hard for me to read a book due to the mere fact that my younger sister was enthralled with it. It was a long time before I finally read Lord of the Flies. I was shocked to find it an intriguing and moving work of art. Just recently, my sister read Anne of Green Gables. I was dubious of the book at first. When I read it at last, I found myself completely taken with the detailed characters and vivid descriptions. I only wish to be as talented and vibrant a writer as Lucy Maud Montgomery. I may have never read some of my favorite books if others hadn't inspired me to keep an open mind.

Don't postpone reading new books and different genres. It is the key to writing in new ways. When I was around ten, a librarian introduced me to Sharon Creech's works. Her books weren't at all what I was accustomed to. They didn't match my R.L Stine criteria. But there was something about Sharon Creech's books that inspired me to change my writing. In my pre-Sharon Creech writings, there was always a Goosebumps-style tone. I learned the power of dialogue and close character portrayals through Walk Two Moons. I learned to reveal things delicately and slowly by reading Chasing Redbird. I'm always discovering new ideas from reading things which step out of my boundaries. Isn't it wonderful to be flexible and have a variety of tastes?


I'm beginning to sound like something that isn't my type, so I'll go now.


Read some new books on your Kindle. Buy on Amazon from $169.99

Goodbye Earth, pt. 13

Goodbye Earth
Page Thirteen

The final part!

“You’re sweet too,” I smiled, in a kind way, as if I was talking to an old woman who was down on her luck.

“Come on Star,” she said, “Let’s go swimming."
4 days passed, full of strange news coverage, sadness, and a sweet sprinkling of fun with Moon.

December 21, 2012

I awakened the morning of the polar shift with dread in my heart. That day, everyone on planet Earth, would experience fatal occurences. I got out of my sterile white bed, pulled the sheets up, and pulled on the clothes I’d been wearing the day when I last saw my family. Today was going to be a day of remembrance.

 I walked out of the sleeping quarters towards the main lobby and peeked out of the window. Niburu blocked my usual vision of Earth and I guessed that the polar shift might have already occurred. I walked over to the TV and turned it on. There was still a broadcast, so the polar shift could not have occurred. I watched as a man walked in his robe into the "living room". He stood silently behind the sofa, watching the television. The reporter man stood bundled in heavy coats during a roaring windstorm.

“Today is the predicted day of the apocalypse. I am beginning to believe it too. With wind gusts up to 500 mph. at the equator, we are not having an easy time. Already one third of the November population is dead, and we are expecting the toll to go up. Therefore, anyone watching, would you please sit down, take a break, and get to know your family! Do all the important things in life!” At that point, the wind really started howling. A tree was uprooted and slammed right into him. Moon, who was sitting next to me gasped. The television suddenly went static. Moon flipped through all the channels. I looked at Moon with a feeling of panic. I went to go and look out the window. A huge shock wave spread out around the Earth in a huge halo, and I could see it moving-spinning. That moment, I recalled Jerri, my best friend, Dad, who did not believe, Peace, my sister, Mom, my loving mother, and all mankind. I knew that there was no hope for them. They were all gone by then, and that moment they were witnessing firsthand what I was seeing from far away.

 All the people on the space station stood behind the thick glass panes. Some women cried, some were fainting, and others were utterly shocked. Then the woman who directed the space station came walking up.

“Everyone, please get away from the windows. We don’t want anyone breaking the glass!” she gruffly said. Directly, she grabbed Moon by the arm.

Moon wrestled free, crying and moaning, “I’m not taking this anymore!” She lifted the steel vase which she held in her hand.

“Moon, no!” I shouted. A tear stained Moon busted a large hole in the glass with her vase and bloody fist. The station's coordinater was shocked. Moon stepped out onto the ledge outside and jumped.

That moment I realized what a mess I had made of my life. Moon was dead, just like everyone else. By coming here, I had betrayed my family and ruined my life as well. I walked up to the hole in the window despite the screams of the observers. The lack of air parched my lungs as I looked out at the still space before me.

Voices of the past shot through my brain. I saw Jerri, Mom, Dad, and Peace. I knew they were waiting, smiling, beckoning for me. So I came to their call.

THE END

Goodbye Earth, pt. 12

Goodbye Earth
Page Twelve

“I don’t believe I got your name; what is it?” I asked.

“My name’s Moon, what’s your name?” she replied.

“Star," I responded.
Moon wore a stylish red camisole with green bra straps sticking out. On her legs, she had a flowing long white skirt. Her shoes were cute black espadrilles. Her hair was long and blonde, like Taylor Swift's.

“Hey Moon, let’s go to the pool and swim!” I said, trying to make light of the awful situation.

“That’s a good idea, but I’m kind of tired right now,” Moon said nicely.

“Okay, then lets watch some TV,” I suggested.

We sat down on the sofa and I turned on the television. News footage screamed at us like banshees warning of death.  A newswoman held her microphone closely to her face, as she stood hunched in her parka.

“This is a news report. Worldwide floods are destroying civilization! Please, take shelter in your attic or on your roof! Do anything to keep safe! Please, take shelter from the floods and keep away from oceans!” she screamed. The wind blew off her hat and the news report ended. All that existed on the screen was static. I cringed. Our house is probably in one of the tsunami zones. I wondered if worse was to come on the day of the polar shift. Moreover, I knew the truth. This was merely the beginning of the horrors. Moon looked at me.

“I live in Florida!” she moaned, and burst into sobs.

 I tried not to think about how she was feeling. I knew that I, too would feel that dread.  I do not think my family will die until the polar shift. However, I cannot be sure. The Tarantelly’s might be dead too. Moon looked up.

“I’m going to get some food at the cafeteria. Do you want to come?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m totally starved!” I exclaimed.
I walked with Moon through some halls to get the food at the cafeteria. The unusual part about the food was that it was all vegetables, because astronauts got it from a nearby planet which vegetables could live on but not animals.

I munched on my salad, thinking about my family. I wondered if anyone was thinking about me right now. Had Peace had fun seeing the Jonas Brothers? Perhaps the concert had been called off due to storms. My appetite was ruined by thinking of what my family was doing, and what Jerri was doing too. I looked up at Moon. She was thinking too, and I could see that she had little appetite as well. I reached out and tapped her hand.

“Moon, I think your family is just fine. Probably they evacuated,” I said, smiling.

Moon looked at me and shook her head.

“My dad says he wouldn’t leave his store if anything happened. He wants to die in that old store. I swear my parents wouldn’t do anything to save themselves,” Moon explained.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said, and gave her a smile. Moon started to bawl. I had seen so many tears; it was starting to drive me paranoid.

“I don’t have anyone in the world!” Moon moaned.

“You have a friend in me,” I said. Moon looked up and wiped away her tears.

“You’re a sweet girl, Star,” she said.
 
I had never thought of myself as sweet, but I guess if the shoe fits, wear it.
 
Come back to bluepencildiaries.blogspot.com on Monday for the next page of Goodbye Earth!

Goodbye Earth Page Eleven

Goodbye Earth
Page Eleven

December 17, 2012


I suddenly woke up to find myself plastered to a seat with such great force I felt I could not breathe. Where was my bed? Where was I? Then I remembered, and tried not to panic. My head hurt so badly, I felt as though an elephant was lying on me. Those were the longest three minutes I have ever experienced. After two minutes of pain, I was able to get slightly comfortable and relax. I do not know how they did it, but suddenly the rocket straightened out into a horizontal position and stalled. A girl barfed behind me. I suddenly felt very hungry, yet was so nervous, I did not want to eat. A man walked along the lanes of seats and then headed back to the front of everyone.

“Is everyone alright? Good. Unfasten your seatbelts and walk to the front of the rocket. From there you will grab a space suit off a hook. Once you have put on your space suit, carefully hang onto the rope outside the rocket and walk yourself by the hands to the clear plastic tube. Walk through the tube and into the doors beyond it. Follow these instructions carefully!” he said in a clear, bossy tone.

I got out of my seat and collapsed. My legs were so weak that I could barely do anything with them. Someone grabbed my hand and helped me up.

“You okay?” asked the girl with the bird.

“Yeah, I’m just really weak!” I replied. We walked together to get on our space suits. I looked at the tags to find one with my weight and pulled it on. I feared I would not be able to walk like this. I was simply so weak, and with the added weight, I knew I would surely fall. Nevertheless, once I stepped out into the empty vacuum of space, I was light as air. I easily pulled myself across the rope, and swung into the bridge. I walked through the doors and was surprised to find myself in a place a lot like a hotel lobby. It was shiny and clean, and the windows looked deceptively normal.

A woman walked up to me and said, “You may remove your space suit now. There is air in here!”

I pulled off the space suit, and felt cool air rushing through my lungs. I sat down comfortably on a large sofa, and noticed a large flat screen television. I looked at the woman.

“Do we have live television from Earth here?” I asked. The woman turned around and grinned at me.

“Yes, in fact we do! A television satellite used for Earth happens to transmit here! It’s simply wonderful that we can see what’s going on back home while we are so far away!” the woman joyously said. “But of course there won’t be any more TV because everyone will die,” she sighed.

“Do you have family back home?” I asked.

“Yes, and they were happy to see me go. They don’t believe in this stuff,” she murmured. I smiled.

“My dad is like that,” I said, “Where is the restroom?”

“Oh, it’s down that hall, you’ll see a sign that says ladies,” answered the woman.

I nodded and walked through the hall to the rest room. As I sat on the toilet, I recalled how I would never use that glorious old bathroom of mine ever again. I sighed loudly and tried to be happy, but it just could not happen. Being joyful at a time like that was perfidy! I sat up, wiped myself, and left the bathroom, ready to check out the rest of the space station. I mean, I have to amuse myself! It is not as if I have to be a martyr! No, I did not have to be a martyr but I still felt bad about everything. No reason to feel bad now, I thought. Anyway, maybe I should feel excited for my family and friend. All the people in my group were in the dock by then and I went over to the bird girl.

Goodbye Earth, pt. 9

Goodbye Earth
Page Nine
This page, like several others prior, include two days. Recall this throughout reading to avoid confusion.

Peace hugged me. I was beginning to feel like there was a hugging overload going on lately. The doorbell buzzed. On the porch stood Jerri, clutching her suitcase.

“Come right on in, Jerri,” I said. She stepped inside the house, beaming, and put down her suitcase.
"So, let's get this party started," she said.
Sunday, December 13, 2012

In the morning, I awakened to see my grandmother puttering around my room.

“Oh hi Grandma!” I nervously said.

“Good morning Star!” she said, her earrings jangling, “Grandma came all the way from down south to see you go away!”

I sat up in my pajamas. “Um, thanks for making the visit.” I could see now that Jerri was waking up and staring at my grandmother.

“Grandma, this is my friend Jerri. Jerri, this is my grandma,” I said politely.

“Oh Star you're finally making some friends up here! Isn’t it wonderful!” Grandma yelled. I felt myself turning deep scarlet. My grandmother had given away the fact that I was a lame, friendless nerd!

“Isn’t Jerry a boy name, little girl? Don’t your parents have a noodle up there?” Grandma asked, smiling and clutching Jerri’s face.

“Well, yeah it is a boy name. My name is spelled with an “I”, not a “Y”.” Jerri responded. Grandma gave me a giant hug and Grandpa walked in.

“Hiya little lady! How old is the Lil’ astronaut now? 14?” he bellowed.

"I’m only 12,” I responded, looking down at my tall, wiry body which often created the illusion of added years.

“How does my little lady feel about going up high into the wild blue yonder?” Grandpa asked.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Oh Patrick, you big butt head! Shut up and don’t make her feel bad!” croaked Grandma, hitting Grandpa in the leg.

“Starlet, Grandma understands how ya’ feel about leaving your momma and them! You gotta make the best out of nothing sometimes!” Grandma said.
Suddenly the door to my bedroom opened. My paternal grandmother walked in.

“Are you two... Star's maternal grandparents?" she asked.

“Yes," said Grandpa, "I don't believe we've ever met."

Grandma Arusta stared intently at my grandmother.

“My husband died just one year after his son married your little girl!" Grandma Arusta said accusingly.

“Oh, what are you trying to say?" "That wasn't our fault," snarled my maternal grandmother.

Grandma A. turned from my other grandma and looked at me.

“Oh and my little shining Star,” she murmured, “The little girl with the prophetic name!” Grandma A. stroked my unpleasantly pimpled forehead.

Then Mom walked into the room.

“Oh hello, Mrs. Arusta, it’s nice to see you,” Mom said, smiling faintly.

“Halloo,” Grandma A. mumbled.
“Breakfast is ready, everyone!” Mom sang, and smiled widely.

“Well, I just came to say goodbye before I died, so I’d better be catchin’ that taxi cab!” said Grandma A.

I sat in the limousine, along with my grandparents, parents, Peace, and Jerri.

“Fred, aren’t you proud that you married a girl who produced an innovation to the Space Age?” my Grandpa asked.

“Well,” said my dad, “I don't believe it's going to occur. I also don't think that NASA believes that. Therefore, I really have no pride on this day!”

Come back to bluepencildiaries.blogspot.com tomorrow for the next page of Goodbye Earth!

Goodbye Earth, pt. 8

Goodbye Earth
Page Eight

“Huh?” Jerri answered.


“Can you come over today? Maybe you can sleep over. I just want to have as much fun with you as I can until I leave!” I said bravely.

“Oh thank you so much Star! My mom and I were saying I should sleep over! My dad will drive me over because he has to go to the bank by your house. I’ll be there in ten minutes!” Jerri replied.

“Okay, Jerri!” I said, and hung up. When I see everyone out the window of that rocket, it will be the last I see of him or her, forever, and ever. I sighed and went to talk to Peace.

“Hey Peace, what’s up?” I asked, finding her sitting on her bed solemnly.

“Nothing.” she replied.

“You know you should talk to me as much as possible before I leave,” said I.

“About what, Star?” Peace asked.

“Ask me anything, Peace, please."

“Do you think Joe Frisks is like, hot, or whatever?” Peace asked.

“Well…” I said, blushing. He was the guy I desperately wanted to marry back when I was nine. I do not like him anymore of course.   “I used to, but now strongly believe that he is a jerk,” I replied.

Peace turned white. She looked at me in disgust.

“I am like so totally going to barf! One of the kids at track told me you used to like him,” Peace said.

Then I was mad. The only person I had told that to was Jerri. In addition, she must have told her friend, Deckard, who incidentally was best friends with a girl on Peace’s track team. I could completely scream. I wanted to kill Jerri, but I suddenly realized I should not be angry for I would never see these people again.

I decided to talk some more with Peace.

“I was nuts about him for a while when I was nine,” I said, “Have you ever really liked a guy?”

Peace blushed in this freaky way. “I was just thinking about some guy who I realized is going to die before ever meeting me,” she said.

“Who?” I asked.

“Joe Jonas.”

I was now officially going to die. How could anyone give a hoot about Sharpie eye browed Joe Jonas? She didn't even know him! Nevertheless, I had to be mature about it.

“Well, you know what? I bet you I could arrange for you to meet him for real, in person, Peace!” I dug through my piggy bank, and pulled out my 500 dollars I had saved over the years. It was going to buy a car, but I decided to give it to Peace since I probably would not need it. In addition, Peace had 600 dollars.

"Combine this money with yours and buy backstage passes for the Jonas Brothers concert coming up on Monday, okay?” I said. Last night I'd seen on TV the backstage special for a Jonas Brothers concert down in Wytheville.

Peace’s face lit up. I had always seen her as witchy and annoying, but in fact, she was a cute girl with a lovely face.

“Oh thank you so much Star! I love you!”
 
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Goodbye Earth, pt. 7

Goodbye Earth
Page Seven

The guide was in tears.

"Everyone, we just can't allow pets!" she exclaimed, waving her arms in despair. Then she looked up. “I'm going to be left to die. So, for me, stop complaining about your animals. It just makes me feel terrible. Anyway, there will be animals on the ship raised for livestock,” she murmured, and left the room. I silently gave everyone a glance, and in an effort to make friends, I said to the girl, “I’m sorry about your bird. What’s his name?”

She barely looked up, and grabbed me in a hug, just as Jerri had done.

“His name’s Kakos,“ she said, wiping her tears away.

“My cat’s name is Chunky and I saved him out of a gutter,” I said.

“Oh really?” she forced a smile, “I saved my bird from a gutter too.”

“That’s great," I said sadly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” said the girl. Quietly, I walked out of the complex and jumped into the backseat of the pickup.

“How’d it go?” asked Peace, turning toward me and trying to appear comforting.

“Horrible, just like everything else surrounding this. Everybody was sad and mournful,” I replied.

“I’m so sorry about that, Star. I really am,” she said, wrapping her arm around me. I leaned on her back.

My dad then brought up his 2 cents on the situation.

“It's not going to happen!” he shouted, and pounded the dashboard.

I looked down and thought in my mind angry phrases about my father’s weirdness. He was only trying to comfort himself by convincing himself that nothing was going to happen. I sighed and leaned back in my seat. A very quiet ride ensued. At last, we arrived back at home where Chunky walked up to me meowing happily. I petted him and pretended to be happy about seeing him. I mean I was happy, but it felt like I was seeing him for the last time. I went inside and swaggered into the small kitchen. I looked in the phonebook for Tarantelly. I dialed the number.

“Hello?” answered a woman’s voice, sounding strained and slightly angry.

“Hi this is Star Arusta and can I talk to Jerri? I think you met me at track,” I said.

“Oh yes, Star, I'll get her,” Mrs. Tarantelly replied, her voice sounding a little uplifted.

“Hello?” Jerri’s voice asked

“Hey Jerri, its Star,” I said.

“Oh hi, Star! Guess what? I can see you tomorrow! I’m so happy, even though I won’t see you again,” Jerri said excitedly.

“Yeah. Okay. Just come to my house at 9 in the morning so we can have time to hang out before a limo comes to pick me up and bring me to the lift off station at 12 P.M, okay?” I said.

“Mom! Can I walk over there for 9 in the morning?” she yelled. There was a pause.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll be there tomorrow,” Jerri said.

“See you later Jerri,” I said.

“Tra la!”

I put down the phone, and then hit the redial button.

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Goodbye Earth, pt. 6

Goodbye Earth
Page Six
Again, 2 days of Star's life are included in this page. Remember this in order to avoid confusion.

Jerri eyed me in the strangest way and I almost thought I had made a fool of myself. Then she grabbed me in a huge hug and said, "You know, you are my best friend, and I'm glad you're gonna live."


For the first time that day, I felt happy and carefree. I never would have thought that I would have a best friend. The best I could expect in my life was a person who did not just pretend to be my friend, because they wanted to use my badminton net, or whatever.

So that day I finally became real friends with Jerri Tarantelly, but also that day I did other things.

I learned the true meaning of what is going to happen in ten days.

I realized that I was best friends with someone.

I became a VERY stressed out girl.


Saturday, December 12, 2012

I walked through the parking lot of the NASA facility. My family was not allowed to enter the headquarters. I wore my hair in an excrutiatingly shiny style. I wore clean jeans, and a soft sweater. Upon my feet were my mom’s high-heeled black leather boots. Usually, I was not allowed to wear them, but this was a special occasion.

Upon entering the building a receptionist greeted me, saying,

“Miss Arusta? I am so happy to meet you! You are ten minutes early for the tour, but you should go into room 433 and wait for your teacher. There are two other people in there already, so just make yourself at home! These will be your friends and family when you go on the station!”

I smiled weakly and walked into the room. There was a teenage boy with glasses and a young blonde woman wearing a blue dress. I said hi, and they responded. I sat down on a hard metal folding chair. People poured in, mostly teenagers, scattered with a few toddlers. At last, the tour guide entered. She was a woman wearing a suit, skirt, and tie.

“Hello everyone. As you all know, you were chosen to live on a space station far away from home. Tomorrow you will set out on your journey on a rocket. You will be shot with a tranquilizing drug that will last you for most of the trip, up to the last 3 minutes. The journey to the station will take 4 days, and then you will cross a vacuum-sealed bridge. Some people find the trip across the bridge frightening, as it is made of clear plastic. You will be wearing a space suit of course so you can breathe. Space suits will be very heavy and you may feel exhausted and hot. However, after you cross the bridge, you can board the dock and strip of your suits. In the space station, there is a video arcade, bedding quarters, a cafeteria, a pool, and various other places to pique your interests. I’m going to pass out some papers telling what you can do at the dock,” she said, and passed out the papers. I felt excited for a moment, and then felt deep sorrow because my cat was going to die, my parents, my sister, my friend…” I could go on and on about all the people whom I was betraying. Then the woman continued.

“I must remind you that there are stem cells in a special room. When we are certain that everyone is comfortable in the space station, we will give birth to these children. In addition, there will be marriages in the space station. Everyone is required to, at some point, marry and reproduce. I understand some of you may already be married. Nevertheless, since your spouses will be dead, you will be a widow or widower. Every one of you married folks will definitely be widowed by April.” At that point, a sort of sad gasp emanated from the group. One woman started crying. The sound of her sobs made my eyes water.

The guide cleared her throat. “Soo that is our lesson. Go back home and say goodbye to your loved ones. A limousine will come to each of your houses tomorrow morning and pick up you, your family, and who ever else wants to watch you leave. Questions anyone?”

A teen boy spoke up. “Can I bring my dog?”

“No sir, we have size limits. Your dog cannot come.”

I felt the urge to ask if Chunky could come. “Ma’am, I think it’s absolutely unfair not to allow people to bring any personal belongings. I truly cannot leave my cat alone to die!” A chorus of yells came up in the group.

“I want to bring my pet rat!” one little girl shouted.

“My bird!” yelped a girl my age.

Soon the group was aloud with shouts of what pets they wanted to bring.
 
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Goodbye Earth, pt. 4

Goodbye Earth
Page 4
She was in the basement doing laundry.

“Mom, I have to tell you something,” I said.

“I’m not going to hear anything about the end of the world, Star,” warned Mom, glancing into my eyes. I felt annoyed, as if she was denying my intelligence or bravery or some silly presumption of stupidity. Nevertheless, I needed to do this.

“I am not talking about that. I wanted to tell you that, well, I am a woman.” I suddenly felt flushed. How could I have said IT?

“Star, Congratulations!” she yelped, spreading her arms to embrace me.

“Well, Mom, I don’t have it right now. I wanted to tell you something else,” I said gravely.

“What, sweetie?” Mom asked tenderly.

“Well, this has been for almost two years,” I muttered.

Mom looked aghast.

“But you didn’t even have…a chest then!” Mom whispered.

“I know,” I said, feeling strangely guilty.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Mom asked. I think I saw tears in her eyes glistening.

“We went to shoot the .22 that day,” Mom murmured, her eyes looking far off.

I remembered that day with dread.

“You probably didn’t even have sanitary supplies!“ Mom yelped, hugging me. She brushed aside one gray hair, and tenderly smiled.

I wondered if I was red, green, or white.

“I'm proud you told me about it, Star,” she smiled, and let go, “I don’t mind.”

“Mom,” I whispered, “Can I go take a bath?”

“Oh, I guess I am crowding you! Sorry!” Mom smiled nervously. I started walking upstairs.

“Star?” Mom called. I looked back. “Star, remember. I love you!” she called.

I nodded and walked up the stairs. I drew a deep, hot bath and slipped in. I tried to envision myself wearing a bulky space suit, and living in the same place forever. Well, not forever, just until I died. Whatever. Peace suddenly barged into the bathroom, her 11-year-old face looking disgusted.

“Mom told me the good news!” Peace said, with fury.

I could die. If mom had told Peace WHEN I got it, I would so totally shoot myself. Because you know what Peace would do? She would scream her head off and be all like, THAT WHOLE TIME YOU WERE HAVING THAT? What can I say? I do not want that to happen.

“Umm, yeah isn’t that nice news?” I said.

“Oh yeah it is! First I find out you’re going to live while I suffer and die and then I find out you’re a menstrual monster!” Peace exclaimed, “I hate you! I really hate you!”

I burst into tears.

“Y’know Peace, I have been having a really stressful time with this whole thing, okay? It has not been good for me. Do you think I enjoy the thought of you, Mom, Dad and Chunky dying? I am not completely brutal! I’m really sorry about this!” I shouted.

“Okay, Star. I guess I am being a little unfair. However, I feel like I deserve to live. I do not want you to abandon me. Star, we have been so close in the past years. I don’t want you to leave me to die,” Peace sighed, her arms still crossed.

“Apology accepted,” I said, “Now can you leave?”

“Sure,” Peace replied, with a giggle.

I pulled some shampoo off the rack and squirted a pile of it on my head. I could not believe that tomorrow I would be visiting the NASA headquarters for an orientation, and that the day after that I would be boarding a rocket to the space station. I sank back into the bathtub, and tried to relax.
 
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Goodbye Earth, pt. 3

Goodbye Earth
Page 3
This page will include two days of Star's life. Keep that in mind to avoid confusion.

Shocked, I put down the letter and held it pinned to the bed. What should I do? Perhaps it was a joke. I ran my fingers over the letters precariously. Picking up the letter, I ran into the basement. Everyone was putting away the groceries and replenishing our winter storage. Swallowing tightly, I handed the letter to my mom.


“Read this,” I muttered.

Dad sauntered to Mom's shoulder, a grocery bag in his hand. He looked over Mom’s shoulder at the letter. Mom placed her hand over her mouth and tossed the letter on to the floor. She grabbed me, and pulled me close. I put my head over her shoulder and then tugged my self out of her clutch.

“Oh Mom! I don’t want it to be this way!” I sighed, holding her svelte shoulders at arm's length.

“Star, it just isn’t going to happen,” she smiled, shaking her head, “there is not going to be an end to the world! It’s all just silly nonsense.”

"But, Dad said, "You can go to get it out of your system."

I had a horrid feeling in my stomach, as if nothing was going to be the way they said. I just felt it in my gut that life was not as good as they all assumed. I sneaked up the creaky green stairs into my bedroom and grabbed the cell phone my sister and I shared. I dialed the NASA phone number, and took a deep breath.

Friday, December 11, 2012

I sat down quietly on my circle chair, my little "comfy cove". However, that day, I was not feeling comfortable. I opened up the internet on the laptop and typed in, Niburu. A representative from NASA had recommended it. Scrolling down the blue hyperlinks, I clicked a link to Youtube. All the videos I saw were generally disturbing and they altogether filled me with sorrow and pity for everyone who I had to leave behind. My cat, Chunky leaped onto the chair and climbed under my legs to get warm under the computer. He was a cute furry white cat whom I had rescued off the side of the road one stormy night when I was nine. I had run outside to grab my coat to keep it from getting wet when I heard a cat meowing from somewhere in the street. I looked around and finally saw two furry white paws clawing from inside of a gutter. You know those gutters without grates that kind of go under the sidewalk? Well that is where the cat was. I crouched down, grabbed those paws tightly, and pulled him out. He was a nasty little cat, all wet and ugly. However, I dried him off and the next day he was dry. He was wearing a little jingling collar, and a tag. He belonged to the people of the house down the street, which a dreadful fire had consumed. All the people had died in the hospital. That little cat has been my lovely pet for 3 years now. Could I leave him to die while I lived on a space station somewhere in space? Most certainly not! That would be absolutely worse than being abandoned out on a stormy night. I put down the laptop and just cuddled Chunky. He squirmed and jumped out of my clutch. I just lie back and let out a sigh. I looked up at the ceiling and thought, “Oh my gosh.” It seemed just so weird to be actually witnessing the end. This must be the end of life. This must be the end of the world. Perhaps it is wrong to survive. If God wanted me to live, he wouldn't have made the end of the world. I then realized that I had ten more days to live on Earth. I would make the rest of my life the best of my life. I placed the laptop on the floor, stood up, and went to the basement. There was something my Mom needed to know.
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