The Libester Award


Super creative title, I know. I owe the honor of receiving this award with many thanks to The Impossible Girl, and no, I don’t mean Clara Oswald. (Who I don’t really know anything about because season 7 part 2 isn’t free on Amazon Prime yet. *glowers*) Anyway, you should go look at her blog because I am sure it is much more deserving of an award than mine.

And now for ze rules:
1. Post the Libester Award Graphic on your site
2. Thank the person who nominated you
3. The nominee has to write 11 facts about themselves
4. Answer the 11 questions from the post of the person who nominated you
5. Nominate 9 4 other blogs for the award
6. The nominee will create 11 questions of their own for their nominated bloggers to answer

Right then. Let’s get started.

Stuff About Artgirl I’m Sure You Really Wanted to Know

1. I’m always rotten at coming up with interesting facts about myself.
2. Usually the only romance in fiction I approve of is the kind where one of the characters dies at the end. (Actually, I plan on writing a post explaining why.)
3. One of my new dream roles as an actress is to play a companion on Doctor Who, but this will never happen because of my American accent.
4. Another dream of mine is to have one of my favorite authors say they love my books (because I will be published. I will.)
5. On weekends and school breaks I’m likely to spend entire days in my pajamas.
6. I have always really wanted a nickname.
7. I love to study smiles, and I can always tell when one is fake.
8. When I was younger I thought it would be really fun to be an olympic figure skater because I’d get to wear a fancy costume and have people throw flowers at me.
9. I’m a child at heart and refuse to accept that places like Narnia, Hogwarts, and Middle Earth don’t exist.
10. I stayed up past midnight when the seventh Harry Potter book came out to buy a copy right when it was released with my mom, who’d sewn us both wizard hats.
11. I have always wanted to try the fictional dishes that my favorite characters enjoy (shrimp in cream sauce, fish fingers and custard, sweets from Honeydukes, etc.)

Questions from the person who nominated me:

1.If you could be part of any story (a book or movie or TV show), which story would you chose?
This is a really, really difficult choice. The thing is, much as I love my favorite fictional realms, they’re so dangerous and I’d never survive. But, that aside, it’s really hard to choose just one. I think I’d travel through time and space with the Doctor, and along the way we could visit places like Hogwarts and Middle Earth.
2.Tea or coffee?
Hot chocolate.
3.Which fictional character bares the most resemblance to you (either in physical appearance, in character or both)?
This is a tough one. I’m not really like any fictional characters, since they’re nearly always brave, and I know I’m a coward. I’m very bookish like Hermione Granger, sort of average (in a good way) like Rory Williams, and I look a bit like Prim.
4.Summer or winter?
Both! I love summer because I have some free time and it’s my birthday, and I love winter because of hats and socks and snow and fuzzy blankets and cocoa.
5.Would you rather watch exclusively TV shows or movies for the rest of your life?
Nooooooo don’t make me choose! I am probably the most indecisive person on the planet (there’s another fun fact) and could never decide.
6.If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?
Well, aside from places that don’t actually exist, I’ve always wanted to visit Italy.
7.Gummy bears or chocolate?
Chocolate. Most definitely.
8.What’s the first movie you really remember? And why was it so memorable?
I think my fist movie was about Piglet, but the first movie I really remember seeing was Star Wars: A New Hope. I was probably six or seven, and my best friend and neighbor invited my dad and I to go over to her house and watch it. I managed to stay awake through the entire thing, and I think I enjoyed it. One thing I really remember was that my friend’s dog was in the corner the whole time, and I couldn’t tell his breathing apart from Darth Vader’s.
9.Which song could you listen to on repeat for hours?
Anything by Murray Gold. He is a brilliant composer and makes me want to listen to nothing but the Doctor Who score.
10.Comedy or Horror?
Definitely comedy. I’ve never seen a horror movie in my life, and don’t intend to.
11.Which Big Bang Theory character are you?
I don’t watch the show, so I really wouldn’t know.

My Nominees:

Nevillegirl at
Miriam Joy at
Fishy at
Orphu44 at

I apologize for not nominating nine like I was supposed to; I’m still working on my goal of reading more blogs.

Questions For My Nominees:

1. Pizza or pancakes?
2. What is your favorite word?
3. What was your favorite book as a child and why?
4. Would you rather be able to fly two feet off the ground, turn invisible (but only when no one’s looking), or make it rain squirrels?
5. What is your opinion on the word “weird”? Is it a compliment? And endearment? Would you use it to describe yourself? Would you use it to describe me?
6. If you could go on an adventure with one fictional character, who would it be and why?
7. Have you ever found yourself completely caught up in a fictional world with no chance of escape? What world? Did it result in any near-disasters?
8. What is your second favorite color?
9. Would you rather own a horse-sized goat or a combination dinosaur/platypus?
10. What is your opinion on the moon?
11. Which is better for building forts: an unlimited supply of cardboard boxes or blankets, pillows, and several chairs?

As the Tenth Doctor would say: I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
But actually, I made the questions unusual on purpose, because it’s always fun to read the answers to strange questions. I hope you like them, and I hope you have a very lovely day.

The Wrong Kind of Ambition

Recently my parents have been talking about me getting a job next summer. They’re a bit instistant about it, but I am rather less than pleased by this turn of events. Call me a snob or call me lazy, but I don’t see anything exhilarating about getting up at the crack of dawn to stand over a frying pan for hours on end. Of course, no one in their right mind would enjoy that, and there are very valid arguments in favor of getting a job in high school.

“It’s a good way to earn a little pocket money.”
“You need to start saving for college.”
“Learning to work when you’re a teenager will prepare you with skills you’ll need for the rest of your life.”

And I understand those reasons. They make sense. But I admitt that I am a very lazy person. I’d much rather spend my time on art projects and singing and reading and writing than doing actual work. Don’t get me wrong, there are some kinds of work I enjoy, but those tend to be things that excersize the brain rather than the body. I just don’t want to get a job, not only because it won’t be “fun”, but the way adults go on about their occupations sometimes it seems like having a job is depressing and torturous, and that isn’t how I want my life to end up. But if I don’t get a job at some point my life will end up much, much worse. I have to grow up eventually.

The thing is, as much as I’m excited to become an adult and finally have the freedom to do what I want with my life, I also find it a terrifying and confusing and extremely dreary thought. As a kid I don’t have very big responsibilities, but when I’m an adult they’ll be huge. I get to go to school now, but before long I’ll have to work instead. And while there are many adults who love what they do for a living, there are many others who’s jobs make them miserable. And I don’t want to be the type of person who gets stuck working at a job I hate because I think it’s all I’m going to get, slaving away in the same dull office complex day after day after day. Some people might love that type of job, but not me. Basically I’ve been contemplating my future and thinking “I have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life.” And that scares me.

The thing is, I know what I want to do with my life. I’ve always known. I really do have loads of ambition, it’s just the wrong kind. The kind that isn’t deemed practical be society. I am a very artistic person. One of the most artistic people I’ve met, and I don’t mean that in a bad or good or braggy way, I just mean I haven’t found many people quite as invested in the arts as I am. I have theater friends who could tell me the name of every major musical in the history of Broadway, and I have writer friends who are far more well read than I, and I have artistic friends whose paintings take my breath away. But I don’t know many individuals who are heavily invested in multiple art forms like I am. I’m not saying I’m wonderfully talented at any of it, but the fact remains that what I am best at is things on the creative spectrum, and almost nothing else.

When I was in fifth grade I decided I would be an actress and a writer when I grew up, but I knew I’d need a day job and couldn’t figure out what that would be. Almost six years later, I still can’t figure out what that would be. I want acting and writing and doing the things I love to be my actual job, and maybe someday they will be, but I have to work my way up to that point. There’s plenty of jobs I can think of unrelated to the two mentioned above that I think I’d actually enjoy, like university professor and librarian and research psychologist or even a journalist for a respectable newspaper, but those aren’t the types of jobs that one gets when they’re sixteen. I’ll need to have some undesirable job at some point, I know that. I just don’t like it.

I have so many dreams I want to achieve. So much I want to do with my life. I don’t want to waste what little time I’m renting here on this earth on doing something I hate. I think there’s lot’s of jobs, even tiny ones fit for sixteen-year-olds, that I really wouldn’t mind having. I just have to find them.

Have you had a job you really hated, or maybe one you really enjoyed? Tell me about it in the comments.

Guest Post for Miriam Joy Writes

Hey all! I recently did a guest post for Miriam Joy Writes, and I thought I’d post it here as well. Enjoy, and click the link if you’d like to look at Miriam’s blog.

Fictional Friends and Nonexistent Universes

Recently I have been suffering from an advanced case of what I like to call Too Much Fandom. This condition results in spending more time in a fictional universe with fictional characters than in the real world with real people. (Side effects may include daydreaming, rocking back and forth moaning about feels, crying, maniacal laughter, absentmindedness, and the general appearance of being totally insane.)
My case of Too Much Fandom was brought on by my discovery of the amazingness that is Doctor Who at the beginning of June. I haven’t begun school yet, my friends are always doing something else, I have no job or classes to go to, I’m not currently in any theater productions, and I have been procrastinating on my writing, so the only thing breaking the monotonous boredom of day after very ordinary day is watching a new episode or two with my family each night. And now I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve started spending my time writing stories and song parodies about the show, letting it influence my sketches, fangirling over Murray Gold’s brilliant score for each season, listening to far too much Chameleon Circuit, and generally spending more time aboard the TARDIS than in my own dull life. I have fallen into a gaping void of obsession and I don’t know when—if ever—I’ll be able to climb my way back out. Which leads me to a question—when it comes to immersing oneself in fiction, how much is too much?
I think one of the greatest things about fiction is that it provides an escape from the troubles of our daily lives, a rare chance to be somewhere else. When I’ve had a bad day or am worried about something, I can just open a book and lose myself in a fantasy land. Or when I’m feeling alone I can pretend for a while that my favorite characters are real, and that they’re my friends. I think most devoted readers consider their favorite characters to be their friends, and wish that they could somehow meet them. I know I do. Stories are a way of escape and a means of healing, a way to find friends and people who understand, and that is such a wonderful, wonderful thing. Because if the world seems sad and lonely and dreadfully boring, you can be sure a fictional one will be filled with excitement and adventure.
And then there’s that point when I’m feeling dull and dreary and I open a book and think I wish I could just live in this world, or at least visit it sometime. It’s a rather silly wish, because even if I could visit one of my favorite realms, like, say, Middle Earth, I wouldn’t last a day. I have no self-defense skills and would rather spend time drawing or writing than doing actual work or going on adventures. And my dream of traveling through time and space with the Doctor is absurd, because I’m terrified of virtually everything and being onboard the TARDIS is dangerous, and like nearly all the companions I’d end up with some tragic fate during the season finale. Being in any fictional world would be much less enjoyable than I would imagine it to be, and yet I still want to visit one. That’s the magic of stories. Even though I know that stepping inside a wardrobe will never lead me to Narnia, I try anyway. I think that’s another one of the wonderful things about fiction, the way it can bring hope and spark imaginations, make us believe in worlds and people we’ve never seen.
If wanting to visit fictional worlds and meet favorite characters isn’t a bad thing, what then classifies as “too much”? Try as I might, I can’t answer this question. I would say that as long as a fictional universe doesn’t consume your life, then you’re good to go, but that’s not entirely true. Letting fictional worlds become a very major part of my life has led to more than just procrastination: friendships, a very awesome drawing of River Song’s hair, and me staying up late to re-watch the saddest parts of my favorite films and TV shows, because I truly do enjoy sobbing over my favorite stories and characters.
Overall, I think immersing oneself in fiction, unless it causes someone to do something dangerous (like jump from a 20-story building to test out a replica Iron Man suit), is one of the best things there is. It’s led to quite a lot of putting things off on my part, but also to me finding people who can truly understand me and accept me for who I am. And I think the “too much” part is relative depending on who you are. For me, there is no too much, or maybe there is, but I’m too busy enjoying myself to care. There are so many wonderful things about the world of fiction—the amazing stories and characters, the fans, meeting someone who loves a story just as much as you do, creating and writing and dreaming a universe, making shirts with fandom references written on them, crying and laughing, hugging a book because it is just so good—and I don’t want to deny myself any of it. So, with a side effect of appearing totally insane, I am going to let my case of Too Much Fandom continue. Because I love it.
I am generally dreadful at coming up with profound, thoughtful last sentences, so I will end this as I sometimes do: live long and prosper, dear readers. I hope you have a lovely day.