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Hannah K. :)

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Hannah K. :) last won the day on November 6 2017

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About Hannah K. :)

  • Birthday 05/05/1997

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  1. Hannah K. :)

    Camp Nanowrimo

    Did anyone else do Camp NaNo this month?
  2. Hannah K. :)

    Planning The Celebration

    @Nicola Just a 5,000 story for now.
  3. Hannah K. :)

    Planning The Celebration

    Annnnnd I started writing a 5,000 word story.
  4. Hannah K. :)

    Behind A Frozen Waterfall

    Norway, 1837 A distorted orange light bobbed up and down, shining behind the waters that winter had frozen in place. Carefully, she made her way up the slick slope, skirt in one hand and lantern in the other. Setting the lantern down, she wrapped her cloak tighter around herself and waited in the frigid air. Moments later, another lantern came into view, carried by the dark-haired young man that grinned at her. He set the lantern down and spread his arms out, which she happily ran into. The smell of pine and sweat still lingered on his clothes, as he had just come from harvesting ice. The calm silence of the night was broken by his speaking first. “Sigrid,” he started, moving back a little so he could see her eyes. The color of evergreen boughs, rimmed with a ring of warm brown, met the soft gray of mountain stone. “What would you say if I asked you to marry me?” “Is that a hypothetical question, or-?” “Perhaps,” he said. “Or perhaps it's not.” “Are you sure this is a good time to be asking?” “Would you like to wait for a little while longer?” She took a moment to answer, playing with a strand of her dark blonde hair. “I don't know,” she said as she dropped the strand of hair. “I would, but what if we do wait, and then something happens to you?” “Then you don't want to wait?” Gazes locked, they stood in a moment of silence. “No,” she finally said, the hint of a smile tugging at her mouth. “No, I don't.” He smiled. “Now that we have that out of way,” he said, getting down on one knee. “Sigrid, will you marry me?” Her answer resounded around them. “Yes!” 1838 Once more, a distorted orange light bobbed behind frozen waters in the midst of the night. Once more, she was careful making her way up the slick slope. When she'd come to their spot, she set the lantern down and wrapped her arms around her lower abdomen, which was growing a little larger every day. She'd been asked so many times who the child's father was, but she hadn't told. Not yet. Not until the time was right. That time had to be now, but she wouldn't know until her husband met her here. He and the others had gone up the mountain earlier that evening, to put an end to all the injustice. Only half of them had returned, and he hadn't been with them. They’d said he went missing. He had told her that if something went wrong, she was to come here. So she came, and she waited for him. When her fingers started growing numb, despite the mittens she wore, she went back outside and soon came back with a bundle of sticks that became a small fire. When the lantern’s light started growing dim, she relit the candle. Then she heard her name being called, and an orange light bobbed into view. She stood, hope swelling inside her. But the faces which the light shone on belonged to one who was like a father and one who had once been a friend. “There you are, Sigrid,” Ivar Pedersen said, tiny flakes of snow clinging to his gray beard. He held up a heavy blanket and draped it around her shoulders. “How long have you been out here?” She gave a small shrug. “Were you waiting for someone?” Aleksander Haugen asked. “What concern is it to you?” She snapped. Aleksander gave her a pointed glare, his hazel eyes sharp. “Whoever he is, he's obviously not coming.” He suspected why she was here. That alone was reason enough not to say anything to him about who the child’s father was. So help her, he would never find out. “Here, let's get you home,” Ivar said, gently leading her away towards the entrance while Aleksander put out the fire. “Everyone has been worried about you.” Outside, she gave the frozen waterfall one last look, a tiny sliver of hope still lingering. Then, with a resigned feeling of defeat, she allowed herself to be lead home.
  5. Hannah K. :)

    Planning The Celebration

    I have a novella I started outlining, and I'm planning to write it in January. Or February. Alongside editing my NaNo novel's half-finished draft and hopefully finishing it.
  6. Hannah K. :)

    Ej's Christmas Prayer

    If serenity could be captured in a picture, the scene of snow falling gently onto the ground would be a good candidate. If only their lives had been that calm these past two months. Waking up in a hospital room not knowing who he was, watching the woman who called herself his wife burst into tears when he’d said he didn’t know her, and the kids’ faces when they were told their daddy couldn’t remember them . . . Oliver, as he’d been told was his name, peeked inside the baby’s room, where he spotted Natalie rocking . . .Lily? Laila? He frowned. He’d remembered his wife’s name, but not his daughter’s. He stepped inside, and Natalie looked up as he approached. “Are the other kids in bed?” she asked. “Almost,” Oliver replied. “One of the boys is still brushing his teeth. I think it’s . . .um, it’s Ethan?” A ghost of a smile appeared on his wife’s face. She nodded, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. “He goes by EJ though,” she said. “To avoid confusion because we named him after my dad.” “Oh. Okay, that-that makes sense. What's the 'j’ for?” “John. After my paternal grandfather.” “Okay.” Oliver glanced at the baby. “Her name starts with an L, right?” “Yeah. It’s Laila.” “Thought so,” Oliver said, starting to back out of the room. “I’m, uh, gonna say goodnight to EJ.” He turned from the doorway and had barely stepped into the next room when he heard EJ’s voice pipe up. “Dear God, thank you for today, and for the snow. We’re gonna have a lot of fun tomorrow playing in it! And maybe I won’t fall off the sled this time!” He must be talking about last year, Oliver thought, as the snow outside was the first of the season. He peeked around the door frame, where he spotted the eight-year old, kneeling in front of his bed and with his red hair sticking up on all sides. “I know I’ve been saying I want my two front teeth back for Christmas,” EJ continued. “But I don’t care about them anymore. Now all I want for Christmas is for Dad to have his memories back, so he can remember us.” Oliver swallowed, though it did nothing to dissolve the growing lump in his throat. “Thank You, Jesus. Amen!” Peeking inside, Oliver spotted EJ climbing into bed. “Hey,” he said. EJ looked up, and a wide grin spread across his face. “Hi, Dad!” He said. Oliver came inside, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Did you brush your teeth real good?” “Yeah,” EJ said. “I brushed ‘em for two minutes! Just like you and Mom taught me!” “That’s good,” Oliver said with a small smile. “You, um, glad you didn’t have two extra teeth to brush?” EJ thought a moment. "Kind of," he said. "But I don't really care." “Okay, well . . .” Oliver sighed. “Goodnight, I guess.” He stood and looked around the room. The other two boys were already fast asleep. He started moving towards the door, and asked, “Do you want the door closed?” “Yeah,” EJ said as he burrowed under his covers. Oliver stopped at the doorway. Something was missing . . .something he needed to say? “Love you, Dad,” EJ said. That must be it. “L-love you too,” Oliver replied. He closed the door, and peeked inside Laila’s room. Natalie was putting her in the crib, and when she finished and came out, Oliver said, “EJ’s in bed.” “Did he brush his teeth for two minutes?” “Yeah. Just like we . . .taught him.” A moment of silence passed between them, her bright blue eyes meeting his dark brown. “Goodnight, Oliver.” Natalie said, brushing past him. “Goodnight.” He watched her disappear into their room at the end of the hallway, then leaned against the wall and looked up. “I . . .” He swallowed, and ran a hand through his medium brown hair. “I need my memories back. Not-not just for my sake, but for Natalie's, and the kids' sakes.” He glanced between the doors in the hallway. “She needs her husband and they need their father,” he continued in a near-whisper. “Please, please, let me remember. I just want to remember.” He lingered for a moment more, then went off to bed.
  7. Hannah K. :)

    Day 7 Update

    @Nicola Technically, I've known about them for awhile, at least two years or so, but it's outlining, structure, and character arcs. The first time I did NaNo, I only outlined a little bit. That story only made it to 15 pages, and I eventually scrapped it and put the masked vigilante concept into last year's NaNo. However, I recently decided to revive it, but with a different plot. For last year's NaNo, I did go a little further in outlining, but it only made it to 14 pages. Then after NaNo, it got to 19, then 21 after I decided to write a few scenes that took place later in the story, but then it stalled, and I eventually meshed it with another stalled story. This year, I went even further in outlining by outlining the major plot points and a few character arcs, and now I'm up to 46 pages. That's the farthest I've ever gotten on a story! (Of course, part of the reason is likely because I've been sitting myself down to write at least a few times a day)
  8. Hannah K. :)

    Day 5 Update

    I'm at 7,351 so far.
  9. Hannah K. :)

    Day 2 Update

    I made it to 2,017 words yesterday!
  10. Hannah K. :)

    The Offical Word Count For Nano 2017

    Book Title: Preserving The Past #1 1. 1,707 2. 3,724 3. 4,761 4. 6,722 5. 9,102 6. 10,875 7. 12,682 8. 14,373 9. 16,117 10. 17,907 11. 18,219 12. 18,969 13. 20,452 14. 22,340 15. 22,806 16. 23,910 17. 24,492 18. 25,403 19. 25,648 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 25,671 28. 29. 30. 25,826 Total: 25,826
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