ok. im going to do this.

so... i think im going to actually finish this new idea. or at least, get farther into it than i have with anything else. well, i will try. have you ever tried passion fruit? it may look like vomited up intestines, but it is amazingly delicious. really. try one. and also horned melons. slimy... yet satisfying. recognize the line? its from the lion king.

guah. i also got alot of great advice from a few published authors. i think i may actually have a chance, once i have developed my characters a bit. and fixed up my plot. i think what i have is pretty good though. heres an excerpt:

Their feet echoed, loud and ominous, as the timorous duo set off down the stark white hall. The tiny black book was clutched in her hand. She could feel the blood pumping through her hands. He followed, a short distance behind her. Two sets of eyes darted back and forth, like and undying pendulum. Look to the left. Step. Step. Look to the right. Step. Step. She shuddered. Why couldn’t she have stayed in her nice, placid area? A set of giant, heavy shapes blossomed into view ahead. Every angle sharp and focused, just like everything she had ever seen. The flat, dependable floors and walls surrounding her. The only uncertainty in her life had been him. They unreachable boy. And now, even the uncertainty had been altered. He was there. She had felt him brush against her arm moments after the collapse. The rectangles were there, within reaching distance. He was now level with her, both starring at the door. She noted his height. He was taller than she. This puzzled her, more than the shape was. After all, that was just a few lines. He reached out, and laid a hand on the expanse of white. It creaked. They both gasped, but not at the noise. Something, something completely unknown and unfamiliar shone through. It sparkled and glistened, and mesmerized them. There was nothing to break the silence except this. She reached out to touch it, to ensure that it was real. She hesitated before touching it. Could it harm her? Gradually, bit by bit, her hand extended. The barest tip of her middle finger brushed the substance. She was prepared to pull back, but it was so… warm. This picture was changing the color of her hand, and dancing atop her palms. When he was sure that it was doing no damage to her, he reached his hands out, too. Miscalculating the distance, his fingers nudged the wall, and more of it leaked out. There was now a visible gap in the wall. Wearily, she pushed her littlest finger into the gap. She could feel the ice cold stiffness of the lines, and a contrasting soft of the unknown. The finger had disappeared behind the lines. So, there must be something back there to touch? She pulled the finger back towards her, and the lines came with. He gasped, and leapt back. A wonderland greeted them.

Clad in white tunics, a couple treaded from the hard white marble hall to the softly stirring green. They were both shocked at the touch of it. Bare footed fellows stepped through the lines that had held them their entire lives. He immediately stopped to warm himself in the glow emanating from what seemed to be everything, but she walked on. The sky was a vast, immense iron grey. The trees that surrounded everything were glowing a vivid green. The color sparked something inside her. Birds sung and dived as she flung out her arms to greet the first day.

thats when they are leaving the container. the black book is a journal that she had been keeping. well, goodbye. im going to go type somthing, and reread my advice. i didnt finish reading it, i just copied it onto a microsoft document to read later. theres probably 6 pages? some from laini taylor and some from kristin cashore. ttfn, mes amis.