Monday, October 6, 2008
Sunday, September 7, 2008
My mail to Shannon
Shannon Hale, the award winning author of Goose Girl and Enna Burning, is getting an email from me asking for an interview for CTE... here's what I said.
Dear Shannon,
My name is Addison. For the most part of my life, I have always enjoyed writing. In my life, I have written quite a few books, none published. I recently received your book as a gift, The Princess Academy, and enjoyed reading it. It was definintely one of my many favorites. At my school, we are required to write a project report on our future/anticipated career. I am still very young to be thinking hard about this, but I wanted to interview you for the project. People in my school know you really well from Goose Girl and Enna Burning. I have always been writing books, ever since the age of seven, and really am hoping that although your email is a tight squeeze, I can have the oppurtunity to email you an interview or what not. I am so sorry for any inconvenience this may cause, and if it is a problem, it's no big deal and we can postpone the interview entirely. It's just for a school project anyway. But if this works, the project is due around the date of October 24th. Thank you so much.
Sincerely,
Addison
Dear Shannon,
My name is Addison. For the most part of my life, I have always enjoyed writing. In my life, I have written quite a few books, none published. I recently received your book as a gift, The Princess Academy, and enjoyed reading it. It was definintely one of my many favorites. At my school, we are required to write a project report on our future/anticipated career. I am still very young to be thinking hard about this, but I wanted to interview you for the project. People in my school know you really well from Goose Girl and Enna Burning. I have always been writing books, ever since the age of seven, and really am hoping that although your email is a tight squeeze, I can have the oppurtunity to email you an interview or what not. I am so sorry for any inconvenience this may cause, and if it is a problem, it's no big deal and we can postpone the interview entirely. It's just for a school project anyway. But if this works, the project is due around the date of October 24th. Thank you so much.
Sincerely,
Addison
Saturday, September 6, 2008
I'm talking again!
hi everyone!
hows it going? anyway i wanted to do this...
blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
hows it going? anyway i wanted to do this...
blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
My controbution
I like that everyone's posting as in Me and Sierra. I liked that everyone joined the blog as in me, Sierra, and Reyna. Excuse me?? I know you guys are reading it but AM I WRONG? Why not join? I think it's cute. Maybe I am wrong about that. I decided to do some sort of story, so here is something. Sorry for any of the little messups... I am so amataeur. Plus, this is not even chap. 1, and it's just a summary. The real thing will be OVERBOARD LONG. Tell me HONESTLY. Do you think this is a reasonable story?? Would you read??
Thanks, Addie
Genius Academy
“Welcome to Metro-International Boarding Academy!” a large banner read enthusiastically outside of the new MIBA school. Jessica leaned in towards her twin sister and practically arm and leg, Morgan, and justified the term to “genius academy”.
Jessica and Morgan Andrus had been delightfully accepted to the all-girls academically blessed school. One of two Metro-International Boarding Academies – or MIBAs – in the world. One in Russia, and one in New York City. Oh, joy. Knowing their mother, Christene Andrus, you could very well know her to be ecstically sending her daughters to Russia for the sixteen, four-year terms that were required if accepted. Unfortunately, it was a very expensive school per term and equaled nearly as much as college for two years. Another plus.
“Morgs, where is your dorm located?” Jessica asked. Morgan responded with a small shrug. She didn’t talk much – she was very shy and her social education was much lower than you’d think. With her wide blue eyes and toothy grin, she could pass for the funniest girl alive. But she didn’t act that way. Morgan was the real romantic, though. She picked up flirts liked she picked up A+ grades.
“Where’s yours?” Morgan suddenly asked. Jessica didn’t know how to respond. She usually had a strong knack of words, and never lost a beat. She wasn’t identical to Morgan, but anyone could see they were twins. She had long brown hair with natural caramel-colored highlights, and wide blue eyes. The only difference was their noses and their smiles. Morgan had averagely-lengthed brown hair with the same highlights. Jessica rocked back and forth on her feet and muttered, “A142, West Wing.” Jessica was much better with maps than Morgan was. She could figure out a pattern in a wink.
Morgan glanced at her paper. “Okay, then,” she said, “you’re over in that wing” – she pointed to a set of dorm homes that were small and redbrick, with vines crawling slowly up the sides. Old fashioned and very pretty – “and I am over there.” Her finger wagged towards a group of small silver two-story homes. It was at least have the land size as Jessica’s, but still very pretty and well kept. Flower boxes addressed each home, even in the separate wings. Occasionally, Photoshop signs hung in front of rooms that read the names of the dorm owners. Each doorbell had a little sign that said “MIBA” on them. Window curtains were either pretty, old-fashioned white lace, or had been replaced by approval by pretty stringed beads. Everyone had their tastes, and had expressed it in the dorm homes.
“It says here we report to the Conference Room in the Main Building.” Several buildings surrounded the campus, and supposing that the largest building was Main, they entered. Students clogged the hallways – libraries, social rooms, and even bathrooms were filled to the brim with anxious first-years as they scuttled off the Conference Room, making numerous stops along the way. Jessica and Morgan pushed passed every human in sight.
“There it is,” Morgan proclaimed as she spotted the large pod sign that read “Conference Committee Welcomes First-Years”. Music was blasted from the corners of the small, velvet-covered room. Small dessert tables were lined up against the walls, and the smell of lobster, crab, and funeral potatoes drifted. French pasta, Italian vinaigrette salad, and small cubes of German chocolate were handed out freely to all who passed by. Fancy velvet chairs reflected off of the magnificent, Michaelangelo-copied ceiling. A large table that had once filled up the room space had been removed from the room. The table chairs were constantly being moved anonomously, and guards in all-black tuxedos stood by the doorways at each entrance. The carpeting, a thick red velvet, was soft and a good walk on. Girls of all manner walked prestigiously and accurately, even the close-to-hideous ones. They were dressed in what looked like formal dinner clothing, just as they had arrived in. A table had been placed at the front of the room that contained about twelve people - the first-year teachers, the secretary, the vice principal and the headmaster. As soon as the music slowed to a stop, a scrawny, mousy young woman sat primitively on the edge of the chair a guard had moved towards a large microphone.
“Please sit on the chairs that have been set about,” she instructed hastily, while she fought a smile. “If you can’t sit, please stand where you are not blocking a lady. Thank you.”
As girls began bustling about, the mousy woman began talking. “I am Miss Monkton, the World Global Teacher representative and social academics, or Career Technology teacher at this school. You may not call me Miss Monkey, or Miss Mouseton. I get that too much.” A wave of giggles rummaged the room. Miss Monkton smiled. “I will introduce you to the remaining eight teachers – Mr. Berry, Miss Coolidge, Mr. Zanus, Mrs. Poole, Miss Jolley, Mr. McMarun, Mr. Tutton, and Miss Jenkins.” As she read their names, they stood. Jessica narrowed her eyes particularly on Mr. McMarun and Miss Jolley. McMarun looked nothing close to harmless. He had dark eyes, light skin, and dirty hands. Greenhouse or outdoors teacher. Could be either. Jessica took a look at Miss Jolley. Her name did not suit her well. She was skinny, almost unhealthy looking, and had bony fingers and hands. She was probably the tallest woman alive today. Though tanned over perfectly, she could fit for being eighty-five through wrinkles, although the number forty suited her actions. Definitely middle-aged. Botox could do little to none for her. She was a shriveled-up beast.
Thanks, Addie
Genius Academy
“Welcome to Metro-International Boarding Academy!” a large banner read enthusiastically outside of the new MIBA school. Jessica leaned in towards her twin sister and practically arm and leg, Morgan, and justified the term to “genius academy”.
Jessica and Morgan Andrus had been delightfully accepted to the all-girls academically blessed school. One of two Metro-International Boarding Academies – or MIBAs – in the world. One in Russia, and one in New York City. Oh, joy. Knowing their mother, Christene Andrus, you could very well know her to be ecstically sending her daughters to Russia for the sixteen, four-year terms that were required if accepted. Unfortunately, it was a very expensive school per term and equaled nearly as much as college for two years. Another plus.
“Morgs, where is your dorm located?” Jessica asked. Morgan responded with a small shrug. She didn’t talk much – she was very shy and her social education was much lower than you’d think. With her wide blue eyes and toothy grin, she could pass for the funniest girl alive. But she didn’t act that way. Morgan was the real romantic, though. She picked up flirts liked she picked up A+ grades.
“Where’s yours?” Morgan suddenly asked. Jessica didn’t know how to respond. She usually had a strong knack of words, and never lost a beat. She wasn’t identical to Morgan, but anyone could see they were twins. She had long brown hair with natural caramel-colored highlights, and wide blue eyes. The only difference was their noses and their smiles. Morgan had averagely-lengthed brown hair with the same highlights. Jessica rocked back and forth on her feet and muttered, “A142, West Wing.” Jessica was much better with maps than Morgan was. She could figure out a pattern in a wink.
Morgan glanced at her paper. “Okay, then,” she said, “you’re over in that wing” – she pointed to a set of dorm homes that were small and redbrick, with vines crawling slowly up the sides. Old fashioned and very pretty – “and I am over there.” Her finger wagged towards a group of small silver two-story homes. It was at least have the land size as Jessica’s, but still very pretty and well kept. Flower boxes addressed each home, even in the separate wings. Occasionally, Photoshop signs hung in front of rooms that read the names of the dorm owners. Each doorbell had a little sign that said “MIBA” on them. Window curtains were either pretty, old-fashioned white lace, or had been replaced by approval by pretty stringed beads. Everyone had their tastes, and had expressed it in the dorm homes.
“It says here we report to the Conference Room in the Main Building.” Several buildings surrounded the campus, and supposing that the largest building was Main, they entered. Students clogged the hallways – libraries, social rooms, and even bathrooms were filled to the brim with anxious first-years as they scuttled off the Conference Room, making numerous stops along the way. Jessica and Morgan pushed passed every human in sight.
“There it is,” Morgan proclaimed as she spotted the large pod sign that read “Conference Committee Welcomes First-Years”. Music was blasted from the corners of the small, velvet-covered room. Small dessert tables were lined up against the walls, and the smell of lobster, crab, and funeral potatoes drifted. French pasta, Italian vinaigrette salad, and small cubes of German chocolate were handed out freely to all who passed by. Fancy velvet chairs reflected off of the magnificent, Michaelangelo-copied ceiling. A large table that had once filled up the room space had been removed from the room. The table chairs were constantly being moved anonomously, and guards in all-black tuxedos stood by the doorways at each entrance. The carpeting, a thick red velvet, was soft and a good walk on. Girls of all manner walked prestigiously and accurately, even the close-to-hideous ones. They were dressed in what looked like formal dinner clothing, just as they had arrived in. A table had been placed at the front of the room that contained about twelve people - the first-year teachers, the secretary, the vice principal and the headmaster. As soon as the music slowed to a stop, a scrawny, mousy young woman sat primitively on the edge of the chair a guard had moved towards a large microphone.
“Please sit on the chairs that have been set about,” she instructed hastily, while she fought a smile. “If you can’t sit, please stand where you are not blocking a lady. Thank you.”
As girls began bustling about, the mousy woman began talking. “I am Miss Monkton, the World Global Teacher representative and social academics, or Career Technology teacher at this school. You may not call me Miss Monkey, or Miss Mouseton. I get that too much.” A wave of giggles rummaged the room. Miss Monkton smiled. “I will introduce you to the remaining eight teachers – Mr. Berry, Miss Coolidge, Mr. Zanus, Mrs. Poole, Miss Jolley, Mr. McMarun, Mr. Tutton, and Miss Jenkins.” As she read their names, they stood. Jessica narrowed her eyes particularly on Mr. McMarun and Miss Jolley. McMarun looked nothing close to harmless. He had dark eyes, light skin, and dirty hands. Greenhouse or outdoors teacher. Could be either. Jessica took a look at Miss Jolley. Her name did not suit her well. She was skinny, almost unhealthy looking, and had bony fingers and hands. She was probably the tallest woman alive today. Though tanned over perfectly, she could fit for being eighty-five through wrinkles, although the number forty suited her actions. Definitely middle-aged. Botox could do little to none for her. She was a shriveled-up beast.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Hi everybody!
Waz up?!? How is everyone doing? I'm doing good. I've been at my grandma & grandpa's cabin all weekend. I just got home. What do you think I did first? CHECK MY EMAIL!!!! YAY!!!!
I'm just kidding! That's some kind of strange language... anyway.....Waz up?!? How is everyone doing? I'm doing good. I've been at my grandma & grandpa's cabin all weekend. I just got home. What do you think I did first? CHECK MY EMAIL!!!! YAY!!!! hi
I'm just kidding! That's some kind of strange language... anyway.....Waz up?!? How is everyone doing? I'm doing good. I've been at my grandma & grandpa's cabin all weekend. I just got home. What do you think I did first? CHECK MY EMAIL!!!! YAY!!!! hi
Sunday, August 31, 2008
here i am too
hey guys
i hope someone besides me and addie actually gets on this blog. :) i cant really write a big post right now but i'll be back later. miss you all!
-reyna
i hope someone besides me and addie actually gets on this blog. :) i cant really write a big post right now but i'll be back later. miss you all!
-reyna
Friday, August 29, 2008
here i am again
For all of those girls in the fam that ARE surprised, DONT BE. I am a blogger for sure, and need my own personal little blog just to make it straight. Must I right about detail such as the little/big things in my life, hand this over to Reyna, and hope it flows? Done. Here you are - to all the McGhie girlies that want to vent their feelings - here is the oppurtunity. GO for it! Instead of publicity, we get THIS. Perfect. Love ya!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)