A poem and NanoWrimo   Leave a comment

So I am going to go in reverse order of the title. First off, I am participating in National novel writing month (nanowrimo) in this lovely November. I happen to be ahead in my word count for today so I decided why not make a blog post about it. So I attempted this crazy month of trying to write 50,000 words in a month last year but I barely even made it to 20,000 (wait nope I did not even make it to that. Oh the shame…). This year though I am feeling much more confident about it and I have it planned ahead much farther then I did last time. I even know the ending this year which on a scale of one to ten, one being the most important it is probably about a two with the most important being the beginning. And right there is writing in a nutshell my friend, well you know minus the middle and the climax and you know character development and proper English… and oh my good gravy what have I gotten myself into?


Sorry I am fine again. So I am only going to give a few things away from my book like the name of it is “A Kiss from the Father of Lies” and that it is narrated by the Devil. Stay tuned for more updates throughout the month (maybe) or possible even an excerpt or two that I can actually show to other human beings.

So with these thoughts I will leave you will a poem that I wrote about a week ago:

They call her porcelain doll

Perfect smile, Perfect teeth, Perfect hair

Perfect everything

They call her porcelain doll

Set out on a shelf to be admired

but never really taken seriously

They call her porcelain doll

and girls like me are taught to hate her

You’ll never be that pretty

You’ll never be that great

You’ll never be that perfect

as the girl over there with the size two waist

But that porcelain doll has learned to hate me

She’ll never be this real

She’ll always be to fake

to be taken seriously in this world

that always expects you to be what you’re not

But I’ve been torn apart

ripped into pieces

sown back together

and had a smile plastered on my face

so many times

too many times

To know that pain is not beauty

but beauty is how you handle pain.

Because they call her porcelain doll

But me?

I call her Raggedy Anne.


So that was my slightly angst filled, teenage girl poem. So let me know what you think (or don’t that is cool too). 

-An extraordinary no one who is pretty darn proud to be herself right now



Posted November 2, 2013 by Extraordinary Nothing in Uncategorized

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