saul sceneDespite this, it was a nice affair: the family was overjoyed to have Saul with us and it was the first time I had dined anywhere else besides my room, which pleased Adele to no end. It was wonderful…until I walked Saul to the front gate.
"Why?" I asked him as I watched his crutch kick up dust into the warm night air.
"Why do you get that look in your eye when you speak to Daniel? Has he offended you in some way?"
Saul bit his lip, but didn't respond.
"It isn't him, is it? It's Benjamin. You dislike him because of his brother. Why do you hate Benjamin? He has done nothing wrong!"
"Sara, don't you understand that he did this to you?" said Saul, his voice stretched. "I know he was a nice boy and that you loved him, but you've turned him into a saint in your min. You've canonized him, and you don't realize that if it weren't for him, none of this would have happened to you!"
"It is not his fault that he was persecuted for something so out of his control," I spat, sudden anger s
Klaus : more than just a pretty boySo, I've always gotten a very positive response from readers and watchers whenever Klaus is mentioned, but for those who have not read my book and especially my final draft, I don't feel like you know him well enough. So I've decided to share a few new Klaus scenes that I've written recently to develop his character more.Klaus : more than just a pretty boy3 years ago in Personal More Like This
around Chapter 8 at Edith's dinner party in late June
"Would you care to accompany me to the veranda for a cigarette?" he asked. "There's one on the second floor, and it's getting a bit stuffy in here."
I agreed, and soon we were standing out on the lanai, elbows leaning upon the cool iron, the brisk summer wind rustling the ivy that crawled up the side of the railing. Klaus pulled a pack of cigarettes from his waistcoat pocket along with a lighter. Imprinted in the copper were the letters K&K, and suddenly I wanted to ask him what had happened the other day—what Heinrich had said about choosing the Gypsy over him. I didn't have time to ask though, because K
Benjamin Jastrow : Altruism or Self-Abnegation?An important point in the characterization of Paper Stars is that each character has one very important characteristic that defines them as a person and influences their day to day lives. Each of these traits are supposed to be both the character's greatest asset and their greatest flaw. They both build the character up and destroy their progress. And in this journal, I wannted to share with my readers an in-depth analysis of Benjamin Jastrow.Benjamin Jastrow : Altruism or Self-Abnegation?3 years ago in Personal More Like This
Easily the antithesis of Sara, Benjamin's defining characteristic is his altruism, and all of his other traits are influenced by it or are a result of it. His mild, gentle nature is centered around his carnal fear of causing others discomfort, which, in turn, becomes his own discomfort. His kindness is not limited to only those he cares for--it stretches to all those he meets, even when they are cruel to him, and he willingly shoulders the blame for any and all grievances around him. He is a human scapegoat, an alacritous martyr willing to give u
Scene from 'The Moon in the Door'Based off a recent experience I had while visiting a cemetery to see my great grandmother's grave.Scene from 'The Moon in the Door'3 years ago in Personal More Like This
Shiloh stopped for a moment, pausing in front of an especially old tombstone. He knelt and ran his hand along its face, feeling the indents of the words.
Matthew Jonathan Mayland
April 15th, 1904 January 1st, 1921
Loving son, caring friend.
"Shiloh, what's the matter?" asked Emmy.
He didn't answer. He just crouched, his fingers freezing to the stone, his breath rising in clouds from his parted lips.
"I'm scared," he said finally.
"Why are you scared?"
He shook his head. "All these people here, all these people under us, they were once alive, right? They breathed. They smiled. They cried and sometimes the wanted to die. But they all had their own lives and stories and problems, and we don't know any of them. We don't know anything at all." He bowed his head slightly. "The kid underneath this grave, he was my age when he died. He was seventeen. He had a mum and a dad and a family
I wrote a sad thinginserting this into the epilogue so I can ruin more lives <3I wrote a sad thing2 years ago in Personal More Like This
Who's Benjamin? I think. That's an excellent question.
Benjamin. A boy who paints what he wants to see. A dreamer. A friend. A warm summer night on the rooftop, a hot air balloon, a sea of whispering grass backlit by a kerosene lamp and the fireflies that flickered like sparks from a bottle-rocket. A match-giver, a soft-spoken superhero, a tear-choked goodbye in the shadow of the stars. A boy who was, and will forever remain seventeen years old, who died to make his bird fly once more.
But what happened to you, Benjamin Thomas? What happened to my poor, sweet boy? What could you have done to deserve the darkness that befell you despite all of your hopeless, misguided kindness? Could it be that you were born into a world that was just not ready?
You lived your life before its time—a life meant for the pages of a beautiful book, had your story only been written! You could have been a poem, an epic: lyrical, grand,
young Sara and SaulBoth are photoshopped; young Saul is Hugo Leverdez and young Sara is a little Isabelle Fuhrmanyoung Sara and Saul3 years ago in Personal More Like This
Some Simon/Holly dialogues"We should climb up there—we'd have a fantastic view of the ocean," said Simon, gesturing to the nearly vertical pathway that wound its way up the side of the cliff.Some Simon/Holly dialogues3 years ago in Personal More Like This
"No," she replied with complete and utter finality. "No, absolutely not, that has 'no' written all over it."
"Come on, live a little—have an adventure! Leave your comfort zone!"
"I don't want to have an adventure. I'm content with safe mediocrity, thank you."
"Stop being an asshole, Simon."
"I might be mistaken, but I think that calling a terminally ill person an asshole inside a church might be a sin," he told her.
Holly shrugged. "But didn't the Bible say that telling the truth will set me free?"
"Well, that's life," said Holly flatly.
"Yes, but I don't have the greatest track record at life, do I?" replied Simon. "It's like I missed the memo. Really, I don't get why it's so difficult for me. What is life, anyway? How do you life?"
"Sometimes it just feels like I'm going crazy," said Holly. "
the good don't stayI blinked, shifted and cringed. My body was sore, my mind was cloudy and everything throbbed, especially my feet. I blinked a few more times. Goodness, my eyelids were heavy and my wrists itched—how scratchy the blanket upon my chest was! I took in a deep breath and tried to get past the blurriness.the good don't stay3 years ago in Personal More Like This
"It looks like we have a survivor. How are you feeling?"
Turning my head, I saw a white coat, and as my eyes drifted up, there was a stethoscope, assorted pens stuffed inside a pocket, a clean-shaven chin and grey eyes. I opened my mouth, but closed it again, because my tongue was dry and I really didn't feel like talking to anyone. Honestly, I was awful at dying. Everything was trying to do me in, even myself, but I just wouldn't.
And then shame filled me when what I had done truly sunk in:
I could have died.
I wiggled my fingers—I was alive.
"How am I feeling?" I rasped as my old temper was aroused by the absurdity of the doctor's question. "I feel fine. Absolutely goddamn dandy. N
two new additions1)two new additions3 years ago in Personal More Like This
"Why didn't you tell me?"
He wouldn't meet my gaze or respond.
"I'm sorry!" he blurted. "I assumed you knew!"
I snorted. "Bollocks, nobody tells me anything. Why ever would you think that my mother would tell her own daughter squat?"
We were in the attic and I had cornered him against the far wallI was fed up with not knowing and being treated like a child, and Benjamin was practically cowering from the vehemence of my ire.
"I already told you I was sorry!" he cried out. "What else do you want me to say, Sara?"
"So you're trying to tell me that during all the hours we've spent together, you never once thought to mention that Aunt Jo was trying to smuggle you out of the goddamn country? I thought we were supposed to tell each other thingscommunicate our feelings; that's what friends do! But instead you go slinking about, keeping secrets from me, just like everyone else!" I cried out.
"Believe it or not, Sara, the world does not revolve around you," he shoots b