Pages From My Journal

Her name is Naomi. She was a Journalism student and two years ahead of me. That's all I knew about my roommate, and that was enough.            In the months leading up to the big freshman migration to college, I watched countless girls put endless energy into finding "the perfect roommate." The college even provided a website that would help connect students with each other who might get along and enjoy sharing their college life together. On the freshman Facebook page, all these future students interacted with each other, sharing all the hopes, dreams, and desires they had for their future roommate.            I could never be someone's "perfect roommate" and I could not dare putting that expectation on someone else. I could only imagine the volatility in a relationship that would result if founded on such unattainable plans.          ...

I'm featuring a post series on my favorite writing resources from A to Z. Below is the progress I have made. Read, learn, and improve your writing. Feel free to share any resources that you have found extremely helpful, especially if they start with today's featured letter. I'm also posting these on my Facebook on a regular basis. A for Antagonist http://blog.janicehardy.com/2013/07/10-traits-of-strong-antagonist.html Archetypes http://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/8-%c2%bd-character-archetypes-writing/ B for Backstory http://www.justwriteabook.com/blog/writing-techniques/fiction-tips-kill-backstory/ C for Conflict http://writerswrite.co.za/five-ways-to-create-fictional-conflict-that-counts Characters http://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/interviewing-your-characters/ Chapter One http://www.writingeekery.com/first-chapter/ D for Dialogue http://alysonschroll.blogspot.com/2015/07/my-line-5-ways-to-make-your-d...

As this college semester ends, the greatest time-consuming chunk of my life steps aside for summer. The busyness of camp will soon take over. I've been one to take on challenges that typical teenagers don't embrace: I think being an author fits into that category. But college was a new adventure that many people try and many do well. Because of this, there are many expectations that exist, especially in contrast to being a teenage writer/speaker where there are very few preexisting expectations. Moving to college was stepping out of the "I'm going to do my own thing" mentality, and I didn't know exactly how that was going to go. For the most part I did really well, got good grades, made a handful of really great friends. But, the bed was too soft. My mom had picked out this really pretty bedspread. My Nana bought be new, white, soft sheets and pillow cases. I also brought two other blankets. But for the first few days, I couldn't sleep. I eve...

I'm featuring a post series on my favorite writing resources from A to Z. Below is the progress I have made. Read, learn, and improve your writing. Feel free to share any resources that you have found extremely helpful, especially if they start with today's featured letter. I'm also posting these on my Facebook on a regular basis. A for Antagonist http://blog.janicehardy.com/2013/07/10-traits-of-strong-antagonist.html Archetypes http://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/8-%c2%bd-character-archetypes-writing/ B for Backstory http://www.justwriteabook.com/blog/writing-techniques/fiction-tips-kill-backstory/ C for Conflict http://writerswrite.co.za/five-ways-to-create-fictional-conflict-that-counts Characters http://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/interviewing-your-characters/ Chapter One http://www.writingeekery.com/first-chapter/ D for Dialogue http://alysonschroll.blogspot.com/2015/07/my-line-5-ways-to-make-your...

     Life has a tendency to break people. I know. I've been broken. The death of my sister broke me. The challenges of being a foster home broke me. The desire for perfection broke me. The need for people's approval broke me. The injustice my family suffered broke me. When my sister was taken from me, I broke. When a member of my youth group died, I broke. When my greatest mentor stepped out of my life, I broke. Nightmares broke me. Hate broke me. An unforgiving heart broke me. I know what's it's like to kneel on the wooden floor, staring at all the shattered pieces of the life I thought I had planned out so perfectly. I remember sitting in front of the metaphorical pile of broken pottery telling God, "I can't wait to see how you put all these pieces back together." For years, I waited patiently for God to pick up each piece, dust it off, and glue me back together.      But that's not what happened. He didn't put me back together. He picked...

I am the Monster by Alyson Schroll I am the monster under this little girl's bed.  She crawls into bed each night, prays a little prayer, and wishes the light to the bathroom could always stay lit even if she never had to go. She doesn't know why I'm here.        It's the dreams. I do what I can to stop the dreams. I try to stop the pain the nightmares cause. She should never have to feel the hurt that she does in her sleep.  My growl is fierce, and I fight every chance I get. Space is small, and my reach is just short.  Some dreams, I can’t stop. That little girl doesn't understand what I try to do. Some nights she whispers, "Hey Monster, can you turn on the light? I have to go potty."   Other nights she screams at me, "I hate you. Stop helping." She'll kick and slap. "Go away. I want to be alone." Monsters can cry too.  But you see, I...

Good Friday By Alyson Schroll I’m pushed forward as I watch the conviction. Pilate has shuffled in and out of those closed doors. I saw, once, his shoulders begin to shake, His hands start to sweat, and lip twitch with each phrase. Justice has never transpired quite like this before. Maybe it’s Pilate’s flimsy stance that makes me wonder, but, I just can’t accept that worry is the end. I'm tossed around as I follow the masses. The crowds’ sandals trample the trail of blood, Of a Man who only enraged by doing good. Although they followed him through cities and places, These people are now red with violence and hate. Maybe it’s His lack of hate that makes me wonder, but I just can’t accept that anger is the end. I’m left alone as I notice the onlookers. The men and woman standing at a distance, Half-watching, hiding, but listening to His mumbled words. Perhaps the power to utilize His existence, Was now, j...