%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  Impromptu writing, whatever comes...on writing or whatever the question of the day is. |
    I've been blogging all through my days without knowing that it was blogging; although, this isn't necessarily the only thing I do without knowing what I'm doing. Since I write on anything that's available around me, my life has been full of pieces of scribbled paper flying about like confetti. I'm so happy to finally have a permanent place to chew the fat.  So far my chewing the fat is on and off.  Maybe, I lack teeth. Feel free to comment, if you wish.  Thank you very much, Cindy, for this honor and the beautiful graphic.  This Blog Continues in "Everyday Canvas "    |
| I took a peek at a blog’s link that was on WdC’s FB page. What I read was proof to what I have been convinced of all along. The writer says, “narrative structure and conflict lock and character plotting and so forth are just frameworks in which your story needs to work. They’re NOT your story.” True, the technical and the mechanical parts we are so keen on do not make the story. Surely, that knowledge should be soaked inside our minds as reference, but a writer’s stories can come only from that writer. No one else can really write them because no one has experienced her or his life. The blog entry reiterates the positives of “plotting (planning), writing, rewriting and more plotting (planning), then rewriting some more.” Too much work, right? Well, at least too much for me. Most of the time, I write something and I’m done. I may go back on it from time to time, fixing one thing or another, especially if I have had some helpful reviews on it, but I have never changed any story or (forget it!) a novel in a big way as to its structure, voice etc. This makes me a writer who may be called a writer only because she writes. Not a writer successful in writing anything full fledged.  That must be why I enjoyed the two Nanoes I participated in because I just wrote. Funny thing is, I didn’t do any real prep work for either of them. Although I started with an idea or a character, some of the research came while the novel progressed. And planning a plot? Forget it! Not for me. I know from experience too much planning and research will kill my motivation even before I start. Once upon a time, I planned a novel and only wrote six chapters on it. I just couldn’t finish it. That novel is still idling in my port. So much for planning… I figure if I do that much work before writing, I am not going to write that novel in one month. But then, if I let go of NaNo and ate and drank writing a novel for as long as it takes, I would never do it. For sure, life, family, or I myself would hinder it. Catch 22, all over again. The writer of the blog says, “Writing successfully takes an amount of work that few are willing to embrace.” So true! And I know I am not among those few.  http://annawrites.com/blog/2011/03/23/how-we-write-our-secret-plot-revise-plot-r... |
| Do I have to be Mexican to love the Mexicans or to be Irish to love the Irish? I don’t think so. Yesterday, was St. Pat’s day, and since I consider myself an honorary Irish lass or rather old hag, I cooked Beef Brisket and cabbage stew all in the same pot, according to a recipe I found, just the way an Irish wife would cook the family meal in one hanging pot over the hearth, as the food fed a whole family and even some neighbors who dropped in. In my case, however, I need to feed only hubby and me, and since I followed a recipe, I have enough to feed ten people for ten days, which may mean St. Pat has to drive the snakes away from my house for a couple of weeks or so. Now I wonder what I’ll cook on Cinco de Mayo…Just the thought of it burns my mouth. And I’m not even a cook, although I like cooking. My cooking meanders just like my writing while I wonder what my next out-of-the ordinary dish will be? Purple Peruvian Potato Hash? Well, why not? As soon as I find out what makes Peruvians tick—by July 28, Fiestas Patrias … On the other hand, come next St. Patrick's day in 2012, I think I'll write a limerick instead of cooking. |
| Do I have to be Mexican to love the Mexicans or to be Irish to love the Irish? I don’t think so. Yesterday, was St. Pat’s day, and since I consider myself an honorary Irish lass or rather old hag, I cooked Beef Brisket and cabbage stew all in the same pot, according to a recipe I found, just the way an Irish wife would cook the family meal in one hanging pot over the hearth, as the food fed a whole family and even some neighbors who dropped in. In my case, however, I need to feed only hubby and me, and since I followed a recipe, I have enough to feed ten people for ten days, which may mean St. Pat has to drive the snakes away from my house for a couple of weeks or so. Now I wonder what I’ll cook on Cinco de Mayo…Just the thought of it burns my mouth. And I’m not even a cook, although I like cooking. My cooking meanders just like my writing while I wonder what my next out-of-the ordinary dish will be? Purple Peruvian Potato Hash? Well, why not? As soon as I find out what makes Peruvians tick—by July 28, Fiestas Patrias … |
| I am so strongly right-handed. I must have started using my right hand even when I was a cell, way before I became a fetus. But after so many years of life, I got curious about writing with my left hand. Where did that come from? I read a book on neurobics; that is, brain training or brain aerobics, sort of. I started writing or rather trying to write left-handed immediately with dire results. Then I ran a search on left-handedness and found out that they had special pens for the left-handed people. No wonder some of my lines didn't quite make it while others turned too dark. I must have pushed the pen down on the paper too hard or too light or too sideways. I had hoped attempting to write left-handed would make me smarter or maybe more creative. Alas! I'm hopeless. Plus, after writing a page, my head feels like a something went upside down in it, making my thoughts wobble, even more than they usually do. Anyway, it was an experience. On the other hand, I could have written something on my own, even a haiku, instead of wasting time by copying other people's work. On the left- my left-handed writing On the right - my normal not too great handwriting   |
| Borders opened the age of the large bookstore and proved to be highly successful in encouraging the masses to read. Now, the Borders at the mall close to where I live is being liquidated. Yesterday and today, it felt like visiting an old friend in his probable deathbed who is having his leg amputated. I stopped by this store at least two or three times a week to buy a book or to have coffee at the Seattle coffee shop, inside which I became friendly with the workers. The people at the cash register and the information booth knew me. I have a Borders card as well as a Barnes Noble one. I paid for these cards sometime last year when I learned the bookstores were having trouble and made as many purchases as I could afford ever since. Yesterday was the store workers' last day at work. Most of them left with boxes of personal items. A couple of them stopped to talk to my husband and me. The manager, who is without a job now, said, "We did everything we could. We put up sales to 40% even 60%. We weren't successful. Now, watch it. Tomorrow as soon as the doors open, people will flock in and raid everything." The other one said, "As of now, the liquidators own everything. Tomorrow, they'll sell everything supposedly at a reduced price, but the prices will be as close to the original price as the liquidators can handle." "What will happen to the unsold merchandise?" I asked. "They will sell it back to the wholesalers," she said. They were so right. Since we needed something from a department store, we went to the mall again this afternoon and checked Borders, too. Most books are 20% off the ticket price, and the lines at the cash registers are unbelievably long. I didn't buy anything. I can't. It is too painful. But then, the same had happened with Walden's, Dalton's, and other small bookstores. At that time, I didn't feel so bad when Borders acquired them because, even though I had cards from those stores and I was a regular customer, if I stood in an isle to look inside a book, a store worker would rush to me to stop me from tasting a tidbit, even if–in all probability--I would have bought the book. Borders has filed chapter 11, and maybe luckily, not chapter 7. So they are not off the scene totally...yet. Of 640 stores they are closing only 200. Unfortunately, one of the 200 is the one I frequented. They'll still be online where I can use my card, but it won't be the same. I'll miss the smell of coffee at the Seattle Coffee Shop and the smile of the coffee-shop worker who knew me by name and that I didn't want cream on my Mocha Latte. I'll miss the attendants on the floor who eagerly showed where anything was, although I have, over time, memorized the floor plan. A psychologist friend once said, "Mourning occurs in response to an individual's loss or to the death of a valued entity." I guess Borders was a highly valued entity. The feeling of loss is the price we humans pay for our attachments and vulnerability to what we deem as part our being inside our environment. Stars come and go! Let joy break with the storm, Peace let the dew send! Lofty designs must close in like effects... Robert Browning |
| Now that I’m so into Kindle, I have been reading the old favorites. The one on the menu is The Happy Prince and Other Tales by Oscar Wilde, written in 1888. I must have forgotten how entertaining they were, being fable-like and all, since I am just as entertained as when I was a child and my mother read them to me. I remember way back when I bawled my eyes out over The Nightingale and the Rose, not understanding why the nightingale had to die. Even at this time, the story had a similar effect on me, and I am by no means a crybaby. On hindsight, I am so glad I was introduced to the likes of Oscar Wilde and Rumi at a young age for they gave me a balanced view of the world, and not the one of “happily ever after” and Santa-and-Tooth-Fairy-will-like-you-whatever-you-do. Instead the morals like “don’t be selfish” and “love truly” were introduced underhandedly but firmly through tales of astute writers. Oscar Wilde combines wit and joy with sadness, but for all the suffering, he shows the way to salvation, too, and with delightful and almost magical descriptions. For our time, some of the stories may not sound ‘politically correct’ for young children since they project the understanding of the world by the English in the nineteenth century, but they still would make wonderful stories to read to children, provided an adult checks them first.
|
||||||
| I always say I’m first a reader since reading has saved my sanity at times and kept me enchanted with life at other times. Naturally, I’m delighted when I find my favorite authors sharing the same sentiment. I just read Pat Conroy’s My Reading Life, a memoir on books and reading, and I can’t believe an author so ardent and brilliant with words while writing fiction can still use them as passionately with non-fiction. This, however, should not come new to me because I remember his semi-fictional book The Water is Wide about the year he taught school in Daufuskie Island, which he called Yamacraw Island. I suspect all Conroy’s writing is semi-fictional following the footsteps of The Great Santini. Still, he is intent on story-telling and insists that story-telling is his priority. “The most powerful words in English are ‘Tell me a story,’“ he writes. Pat Conroy gives much more of himself to readers than most any author (IMHO), but it is not only the spilling guts part that delights me. It is his use of the language, his directness, and his clarity of expression, as when he says, “I grew up a word-haunted boy” or “I have built a city from the books I read.” Simple, profound, passionate. Who among us writers here in Writing.com is not “word-haunted”? Then on page 316, on why he writes, he says: “A novel is my fingerprint, my identity card, and the writing of novels is one of the few ways I have found to approach the altar of God and creation itself. You try to worship God by performing the singularly courageous and impossible favor of knowing yourself.” Can any words dig deeper than that? I’m totally and gratefully stunned. Books by Pat Conroy: My Reading Life South of Broad Beach Music The Prince of Tides The Lords of Discipline The Great Santini The Water is Wide The Boo My Losing Season Pat Conroy Cookbook |
| Today, after reading from a book in the library about story foundations, I made a list. I can’t stress enough the value of making lists, at least for me: not to forget things sometimes, but mostly to realize what’s important. In this case, however, the list was for ghosts, not the eek, floating-in-white-sheets type of ghosts, but the ghosts of the past that haunt a person. The book describes this kind of a ghost as: An event from the past that haunts the hero, which may be an open wound that is the source of hero’s psychological and moral weakness. In other words, ghost in this case should equal the power of the past. I used to think I can get over anything as I forgive most anything. I am not sure of that thought anymore, since my list ended up being far too long. True, I thought deep and exaggerated the events, but still the things I could remember as possible ghosts shocked me. It may be a good idea to make lists of such ghosts. Our protagonists, antagonists, and secondary characters can use them. |
| I’m not the one to keep track of birthdays, let alone for someone who has been gone so many years ago, but I saw Google’s caption and couldn’t help myself. I don’t know what it is about Cezanne’s paintings that makes them move me like Beethoven does in music. Maybe it is his exploratory brushstrokes, the degree of abstraction, or the sensitivity in his art, but what ever it is, I am glad he was born. And since I decided as a new year’s resolution to find and concentrate on something good in each day, this birthday is it for today.  So, Happy Birthday, Cezanne!     |
| Finished with the NaNoWriMo novel. My word count: WdC Count: 59465 Ms Word:59599 NaNo Count: 59577 The whole thing was pure masochism, and I had to finish it before the 20th, due to a birthday and Thanksgiving, but I went over a few days. I don't think I ever wrote this much in such short a time. Did I say masochism? Wait till next November, and I'll prove it once more.    |
| Writer's Digest, Poettues poet Robert LeeBrewer is running a chapbook challenge in November. I am not participating because I'll be doing the NaNo. If you're interested, here's the link: http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/2010/09/24/2010NovemberPADChapbookCha... If you do participate, best of luck!  |
“Where do you get ideas from?” I was asked yesterday. Since I haven’t written in my blog for a long time, I thought maybe I’d address this by sidestepping it  and make another contribution to all the adipose tissue in my writing.Someone said, "Creativity is the ability to illustrate what is outside the box from within the box." Since I was never boxed, I keep chewing the cud on various implications and ramifications of these words, and because I am more visual than anything, being inside any box--literally--chokes me. I am more like outside the box, looking in. This should explain a lot of things about me!On the more serious side, someone else said creativity comes from positive effects. IMHO, negative effects create more emotion, thus opening up the mind to more “out-of-the-box” ideas. Dean Koontz, Edgar Allen Poe, Stephen King anyone? Whatever the creativity theories may be, I think, what comes from within is priceless, as long as we don’t sit around waiting for our insides to talk, since under our skins, we have a variety of organs and each can make a different sound. I am, therefore, more on the side of searching for ideas or even reusing used and overused ones. Remember how a very wise man (Moses, I think) once said, "There's nothing new under the sun"? Besides, ideas are everywhere, even inside the commonest things like the supermarket flyers. Have you ever searched one, especially with an eye for the misspelled items, like Hole Wet Bread or Natural Lawn dry Detergent? Unbelievable aren’t they, all those images misspellings can bring? By coincidence or synchronicity, whichever you choose to believe, I came across a video on creativity on NPR’s site. The video is by the comedian John Cleese, someone we can only watch on the PBS channel regularly in our neck of the woods. I figured I’d give a link here to what John Cleese says because most of what’s in the video holds true for me, Especially the part where he says how interruption hurts the process of writing. As I am always interrupted, this accounts for the condition of my recent work. Thanks, Hubby!  Anyhow, here’s the video if you’d like to watch it. |
| Since the hype is in the media and I seem to be frolicking all over the waiting rooms of this town and the next, I thought maybe I’d get me an E-Reader. I’m sure I’ll never suffer from the burnout effect of the electronic stuff. I admire everyone who knows so much about computers and related techie things. Anyhow, after checking out two bookstores who are advertising their E-Readers, I came to the conclusion that my netbook was better than all of those things put together. In the last bookstore, they said their E-Reader came with 1500 books. “Okay, what kind?” I asked. It seems those books are readily available on the web for free since their copyrights have expired. Lol! I could do that using my netbook and sites like Bartleby, Gutenberg and such. As to the waiting rooms, what are pocket books for? I have at least twenty unread ones at home. On the other hand, I might go for an I-Pad, but not just yet. Some people who are much better than me where technology is concerned have had some difficulties with that contraption. It may be a good idea for me to let the developers develop their stuff a few steps further. In the meantime, I’ve been reading The African Queen. Splendid! Except the author’s opinion butts in, as in the last paragraph of chapter six, “It’s a pretty problem of psychology to decide why Allnutt should have found a little manhood—not much, but little—in Rose’s society.” And then in the beginning of the next chapter, “To look back on dangers past is a very different thing from looking forward to dangers close at hand and still to come. Allnutt looked at the roaring water…” Imagine this with today’s editors! Lol! Yet, in my opinion, the action scenes are breathtaking and the word choices exemplary. As to writing, after being asked for a solution for procrastination, poet William Stafford said: “I just lower my standards and keep on going.” I grinned when I read this. I could have said the same thing since I’ve been writing anything anywhere regardless of any standard. I’m just enjoying the ride, but then, that’s been my life philosophy. I’m not going to be uptight about anything that makes me happy, especially since just writing lists and notes and reading in waiting rooms became my routine due to real life in the last few days. Still mostly brainstorming, I eked out a few paragraphs here and there. Since a rare earthquake happened around Michigan-Toronto area, my coming up with a decent something could happen, couldn’t it? Unexplainable things and miracles can be possible, I think. I’ll never lose hope. I’m an optimist. |
| The author Frank Delaney explains a few passages from James Joyce’s Ulysses; actually, one small passage every week. http://frankdelaney.com/ For the RSS feed or the podcast: http://rejoyce.libsyn.com/rss I’m really enjoying his explanations and yearning for more after each podcast. I turn to classics every now and then just to feel the soul and the beauty in their words. This weekend I borrowed The African Queen by C.S. Forester from the library. Hubby remarked. “Didn’t we already watch the movie umpteen times?” He’s right. We did. Who could forget Bogart getting his only Oscar for the role of Allnut, but the book is so much better. It reads like poetry in places, and the ending is quite different. What I find in the writings of 70-100 yrs ago is soul and honesty. The stories of old times make me feel the ugliness, the pain, or the joy of their characters without resorting to clever tricks or faking it. Sometimes I think those words, should they be written today, would never see a publisher’s approval. Some, not all, contain sentences that are too long, too complicated, and sounding slightly off with their relevance, and with narrators skipping all over the page, adding in their emotions and memories, and even lecturing in places. Unlike our contemporary writing, which is clever, competent, and constricted--while missing the point, at times--thanks to the present-day teachings. For the sake of practicality, as writers, we have to adapt to what is approved in today’s tastes, but I still like to peek into the past, so I won’t miss the point of what true literature can be like. |
| The author Frank Delaney explains a few passages from James Joyce’s Ulysses; actually, one small passage every week. http://frankdelaney.com/ For the RSS feed or the podcast: http://rejoyce.libsyn.com/rss I’m really enjoying his explanations and yearning for more after each podcast. I turn to classics every now and then just to feel the soul and the beauty in their words. This weekend I borrowed The African Queen by C.S. Forester from the library. Hubby remarked. “Didn’t we already watch the movie umpteen times?” He’s right. We did. Who could forget Bogart getting his only Oscar for the role of Allnut, but the book is so much better. It reads like poetry in places, and the ending is quite different. What I find in the writings of 70-100 yrs ago is soul and honesty. The stories of old times make me feel the ugliness, the pain, or the joy of their characters without resorting to clever tricks or faking it. Sometimes I think those words, should they be written today, would never see a publisher’s approval. Some, not all, contain sentences that are too long, too complicated, and sounding slightly off with their relevance, and with narrators skipping all over the page, adding in their emotions and memories, and even lecturing in places. Unlike our contemporary writing, which is clever, competent, and constricted--while missing the point, at times--thanks to the present-day teachings. For the sake of practicality, as writers, we have to adapt to what is approved in today’s tastes, but I still like to peek into the past, so I won’t miss the point of what true literature can be like. |
| Proverbs are sometimes metaphorical, but mostly, they are based on common human experience. Every culture has its own proverbs. In history, the Bible with the Book of Proverbs and the Latin culture in general played a considerable role in distributing proverbs across Europe. Proverbs are useful in writing, whether you take a proverb and make a story or poem out of it or you apply it to an already existing but not quite finished work. I started getting tweets from a Twitter site called Ancient Proverbs. Each time they send me one, I realize once again how universal and how regardless of time and place the ancients’ words sound. Here are a few proverbs from Twitter’s Ancient Proverbs: Three methods to learn wisdom: 1 reflection, which is noblest; 2 imitation, which is easiest; & 3 experience, which is the bitterest. –Confucius One never needs their humor as much a when they argue with a fool. -Chinese Proverbs The innkeeper loves a drunkard, but not for a son-in-law. -Jewish Proverb The great question is not whether you have failed, but whether you are content with failure. -Chinese Proverb Bad is never good until worse happens. -Danish proverb Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors. -African proverb Every path has its puddle. -English proverb Forever is composed of nows. -Emily Dickinson What is told into the ear of a man is often heard a hundred miles away. -Chinese Proverbs Who ceases to be a friend never was one. -Greek Proverb |
| I was looking at the article “Make Your Sad Story a Universal One” by Jessica Handler in July 2010 Writer, the monthly magazine. Inside it is advice most of us already know, but when I saw the page as a visual, I noticed the bolded lines. I think they can easily be considered a fiction writer’s mantra. They are: Plot is the reader’s lifeline. Character not caricature The right word in the right place (meaning precision) Getting your hands dirty (meaning research) Reader Reward (meaning what your work can give to the reader) I like mantras, even though I don’t practice any of the mantra-using religions. Mantras as conduits instill a precise concentration inside the devotees. Since writers are devotees of the written word why not have a mantra for fiction writers? To remind ourselves as writers to what is important, we need not say “Om Mani Padme Hum” or any other mystically vibrating verbiage. Instead, because the bolded parts from the article are too long to memorize, I am going to shorten them to what I can recall more easily as: Plot, Character, Precision, Research, Offering. Still, it would benefit a writer to read the article since it explains all those bolded lines very well. |
| Inside The Pocket Muse –Endless Inspiration by Monica Wood is this advice on reading. “When was the last time you read something by an author you’d normally avoid? If you’re twenty (yrs of age), ask for a recommendation from your grandmother (or someone over sixty). If you’re sixty, read something your son, niece, or grandson, (or someone over sixty).” This advice insists on reading the whole recommended thing; that is, the whole story, the whole poem, the whole novel. A few years ago, I came across a book with so-full-of four-letter words that I immediately thought that book or writer would not be for me, but being the mule-headed one that I am, I read the entire book, and then, the others in the same series. Even if I would rate the books as 18+ or GC, they are about teen-agers and those around their early twenties. Better yet, from reading these books, I gained a special appreciation for the writer, Megan McCafferty, and yes, these books make up the Jessica Darling series. At the end, I even regretted not having Megan McCafferty's writing during my youth in dinosaur time. So, there you go, grandmas and grandpas and all those over sixty. Thus, I seek advice from our youth. Any recommendations, please? Talking about reading, My hubby and I spend a good deal of our time in the library or in the bookstores. Today, we spent most of the afternoon in Barnes and Noble. The Starbucks café in the middle of the store with the authoritative coffee menu (don’t let my doctor in on this) is a big draw for us, but the biggest lure for me is the conversation around me. I don’t think the speakers are aware of my misdemeanor -of listening in- because I don’t lift my head from a book or my long-hand writing, or if I do, I only glimpse past them. This afternoon I eaves dropped to the advice of one twenty-plus guy to another twenty-plus (both with laptops they left untouched) about how to handle a girlfriend and his mother. Lol! If that was something, the better happened on our way out. In front of us, a fiftyish couple were also leaving the store. Just then, from the entrance door, two scantily clad, young, and pretty girls walked in. The man in front of us ogled them, which the woman saw for she suddenly tossed her hair with a tiny head flip. The man must have seen the resentment in the woman’s face because he sneaked a look at her and then he glanced ahead immediately. (Unfortunately, we were behind them and I didn’t see the expressions in their faces. And if my hubby ogled the ladies also , I am not aware of it. The couple in front of us had my full attention.)The fiftyish couple kept walking just ahead of us outside the store to the parking lot. The man (I guess to excuse himself or to get to the better side of the woman) pointed to a white Mercedes that drove by and said (something like), “Now, I’d really like to buy you that car, if I had the money.” Her answer was, “So I could make a roadkill of girls you salivate over…” I couldn’t make these things up, even if I tried. I love bookstores. |
| Some people swear by using templates for their stories. Although a template (for anything) can offer a much needed order, I always thought using a template for creative writing killed the originality and did away with creativity. To be objective, however, I decided to use one of the templates on the web; one that says give a noun, give an adjective etc., something similar to our madlibs here in WdC. I am still adamant in insisting to use perspiration instead of a format because if everyone used a template, even a more improved template than the one I came across, all the stories would end up being like serial factory productions. On the other hand, the template I played with gave such a farcical story that, I think, it may be okay to use those things for play, just like madlibs. Here's the story:Sally needed to go shopping, so she called her sincere friend Rob and arranged to meet at the Florida. There they got a potpourri and a balloon. The balloon makes the best pie. Sally and Rob love to make balloon pies. They also got some daisies and bows for dinner. Everyone knows that bows taste very good mixed with daisies . Sally did not have enough money to pay so she gave the cashier a ribbon instead. The cashier put their stuff in a tumultous bag. Then, Sally and Rob rode a rapid bus home. When they got back home, they baked a very fidgety balloon pie. Then they enjoyed their ardent dinner until the pie cooled off. After that they had the fidgety balloon pie and made sure to give their pet pepper some too. Maybe, while I am playing, I'll put up a madlib or two. |
| Nice going, Dad! Now I’ve heard everything. As cliché as it is, what’s the world coming to? “2-year-old smokes two packs a day A 2-year-old Indonesian boy's parents say he has a two pack a day habit and throws a tantrum when they refuse to give him cigarettes. His father gave him his first smoke when he was 18 months old and now he is addicted. http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1281538/Smoking-year-old-Ardi-... http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/05/26/ardi-rizal-smoking-video_n_590404.html http://www.wptv.com/dpp/news/local_news/water_cooler/2-year-old-smokes-two-packs... Sorry, smokers, but I really, really hate cigarettes. Worse yet, I can't imagine giving such a thing to a toddler. Shouldn't there be a way to excuse/ban people from parenthood? |
 Log in to Leave Feedback |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
for this lovely sig.
