I've had so much fun as Janelle Dakota: short story contests, web classes, online buddies, two novels - each revised thrice. So many great scenes and wonderful characters! I've had publications with Echelon Press and an honorable mention from Lunch Hour Stories. All very much fun and the bonus is these experiences provided the necessary professional growth.
But...
My muse threw me a curve ball and it made me stop and think. When a voice in your head screams, "Yoohoo! Wrong genre!" you tend to listen, or at least give the declaration a few minutes' consideration. Which is why I'm switching to YA.
Viewed in the YA light, I can see the element that was dangling just out of reach in my two novels, and this excites me. I can't begin to tell you how many hundreds of pages I've written with these characters, trying to make them fit the wrong mold!
That was step one. Step two involved a bit of emotional healing and personal growth. My parents were both proud of my writing and they believed in me. It is in honor of them that I renounce my pseudonym and embrace my given name.
Check out at my new blog:
http://janelatta.blogspot.com/
Friday, February 6, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Guest Blogger
Today, I offer up the prose of my ten year old daughter, Hannah. Enjoy!
1998 –2008 My First Ten Years
A memoir by Hannah Roberts
There were a lot of things I couldn’t do when I was little.
When I was 5 the deep end of the pool was dark, mysterious, and scary to me.
Now I happily dive in.
When I was 6 I could only see the top of my head in the bathroom mirror.
Now I am almost as tall as my mom.
When I was 7 I couldn’t bounce a basketball without losing control.
Now I play on a basketball team called the Eagles.
When I was 8 I loved to play Barbies with my friends. Now I think Barbie dolls are kinda dumb.
When I was 9 I cried about my dog dying…. yeah I’d still do that!
Now I am 10 and I know that friendship means we stick together no matter what, my parents may not always know what they’re doing, and even if I can’t do a lot of things, I can learn how.
1998 –2008 My First Ten Years
A memoir by Hannah Roberts
There were a lot of things I couldn’t do when I was little.
When I was 5 the deep end of the pool was dark, mysterious, and scary to me.
Now I happily dive in.
When I was 6 I could only see the top of my head in the bathroom mirror.
Now I am almost as tall as my mom.
When I was 7 I couldn’t bounce a basketball without losing control.
Now I play on a basketball team called the Eagles.
When I was 8 I loved to play Barbies with my friends. Now I think Barbie dolls are kinda dumb.
When I was 9 I cried about my dog dying…. yeah I’d still do that!
Now I am 10 and I know that friendship means we stick together no matter what, my parents may not always know what they’re doing, and even if I can’t do a lot of things, I can learn how.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Monday, December 22, 2008
Another poem
Quick update: I lost internet after a switch to a new ISP. Everyone's computer but mine could connect. Nobody knew how to fix it. I seem to have poor luck with anything electronic these days! But all is well now.
We're experiencing one of the biggest snow storms Seattle has ever seen. I have a foot of snow at my house. I love the hush that snow provides, but if I lose my power I suspect the snow will lose its beauty.
Sean has done it again! I like this poem very much. In this English assignment, his poem needed to portray a paradox. I think he also manages a bit of a transformation here as well. No, he is not an angst-filled teen; he is actually a well-adjusted young man with a great imagination, the inability to put his dirty socks in the clothes hamper, and a little too much RPG experience :)
Death
By Sean Roberts
Life is existence.
Living.
Breathing.
Sleeping.
But, is it really life?
Are you free?
Do you have power?
Are you always happy?
Are you sure?
Death is nonexistence.
Your soul,
Your spirit,
Living in an invisible world,
Spying on the ones,
Who appear to be living.
Watching as the world unravels.
Watching as new souls are prepared for torture.
Knowing that soon,
It will be your turn again.
Is it truly life we experience?
Or is it death?
Vessels to a spirit who cannot roam free,
A spirit waiting to get out,
Waiting to live as it pleases,
Not needing food,
Not experiencing pain,
Not experiencing sadness,
Able to live with freedom.
Life is Death.
We're experiencing one of the biggest snow storms Seattle has ever seen. I have a foot of snow at my house. I love the hush that snow provides, but if I lose my power I suspect the snow will lose its beauty.
Sean has done it again! I like this poem very much. In this English assignment, his poem needed to portray a paradox. I think he also manages a bit of a transformation here as well. No, he is not an angst-filled teen; he is actually a well-adjusted young man with a great imagination, the inability to put his dirty socks in the clothes hamper, and a little too much RPG experience :)
Death
By Sean Roberts
Life is existence.
Living.
Breathing.
Sleeping.
But, is it really life?
Are you free?
Do you have power?
Are you always happy?
Are you sure?
Death is nonexistence.
Your soul,
Your spirit,
Living in an invisible world,
Spying on the ones,
Who appear to be living.
Watching as the world unravels.
Watching as new souls are prepared for torture.
Knowing that soon,
It will be your turn again.
Is it truly life we experience?
Or is it death?
Vessels to a spirit who cannot roam free,
A spirit waiting to get out,
Waiting to live as it pleases,
Not needing food,
Not experiencing pain,
Not experiencing sadness,
Able to live with freedom.
Life is Death.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Sit, Stay, Hyperlink
For today's joy-finding expedition, I didn't have to go far! I'm trying out the gift of knowledge and the fact that this old dog can learn a new trick. Here's my attempt at putting Madison Leigh's name in link format. Woohoo! It worked!
Thank you Elysabeth and CJ :)
Thank you Elysabeth and CJ :)
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
It gets easier with practice
Today's unexpected joy came easily: the devotion of friends.
My friend Madison Leigh (I wish I knew how to do that thing where her name is underlined and it's a link to her blog) did a little research on a problem I've been having. She put a few bits of information together and connected it to something else and voila! A clue that I can use to try to find some answers.
Thank you, Madison!
My friend Madison Leigh (I wish I knew how to do that thing where her name is underlined and it's a link to her blog) did a little research on a problem I've been having. She put a few bits of information together and connected it to something else and voila! A clue that I can use to try to find some answers.
Thank you, Madison!
Monday, December 8, 2008
Purple Is All That It Should Be
Oops - I missed 2 days! I forgot to factor in the weekend element. One of those days was a fun-filled family day, but I don't think it's fair to "go back" so I'll just pick up where I left off.
My 14 year old son wrote a poem for school and has graciously given me permission to post it here. It made me think and it made me smile so it's my "focus" option of the day. His assignment was to choose a color and write a poem about it. He chose my favorite color :)
The Color Purple
By Sean Roberts
The gentle blaze of a fire,
To a skier trapped in the snow.
The grace of an angel,
To a fallen soldier,
Purple rewards the patient.
Purple saves the punished.
Purple is all that it should be,
The regalia of royalty,
The symbol of patience,
The image of justice,
The emblem of hope and peace,
The pattern of prosperity,
The insignia of bliss,
The mark of a higher power
For all who have earned it,
Purple is all that it should be.
My 14 year old son wrote a poem for school and has graciously given me permission to post it here. It made me think and it made me smile so it's my "focus" option of the day. His assignment was to choose a color and write a poem about it. He chose my favorite color :)
The Color Purple
By Sean Roberts
The gentle blaze of a fire,
To a skier trapped in the snow.
The grace of an angel,
To a fallen soldier,
Purple rewards the patient.
Purple saves the punished.
Purple is all that it should be,
The regalia of royalty,
The symbol of patience,
The image of justice,
The emblem of hope and peace,
The pattern of prosperity,
The insignia of bliss,
The mark of a higher power
For all who have earned it,
Purple is all that it should be.
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