Oh the edits. I know the saying writing is rewriting, but it doesn’t really hit you until you really go through it. The contradictions I find. The wait, she’s in the completely wrong mood moments. Have I mentioned I still haven’t written the end? No, that’s not true. I have the last like, page. It’s a doozy. It’s one of those endings where the reader will be like WHAT THE F I HATE YOU HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME? Which, as I reader I equally hate, but now being on the other end, I kind of love it.
I haven’t read anything new (re-reading HP lately) because Insurgent comes out in a couple days and I don’t want to be in the midst of something new and stop it. I guarantee I will read Insurgent in a day. Not even in a day, I’ll have it finished before I go to the barn at 2pm. Then City of Lost Souls comes out two weeks later and gah, I need me some shadowhunter goodness. And somewhere in between all of that, I’ll keep on trucking with this mess of words I call my novel.






I believe books are magic. I read to the point of excess, hence the reviews. I'm also writing a book, which I'm chronicling here as well. I live in L.A. but I'm a New York girl at heart. I'm a total nerd, horses are the love of my life, and my sarcasm knows no bounds. If you really want more, 





