Hello everyone (: It's been a really long time and I have a feeling many of my past readers have already left me in the dust. But for those who are still here and are still reading this, I want to thank you again for all the support I've received from you through my past fanfics. Though I've stopped writing fanfics now, I haven't given up on my original dream to write and publish my very own novel.

I've been working tirelessly at it since the start of summer in May 2013, and I've made massive progress.

Rain Sound is currently on hiatus. It is a plot that is very close to my heart and I have very big ambitions for its future, so I want to hold it off until I have absolutely enoguh time to think things through. Instead, I am currently working with a new plot that came to me less than a week ago. Despite that, I am already two chapters in and have publishing plans underway upon written completion and editing. 

My first novel will be published soon (earliest may be Aug 2014, or late 2014). The current/temporary title is "The Collector" and it is about a hemophilic girl with photographic memory who collects moments. I won't give out any more than that, as this upcoming novel will be quite short, and more of a light read than the future plots I have in mind.

I will however, post a little teaser snippet. Once the book is successfully published (I actually already paid my first installment for this novel so IT WILL ACTUALLY BE PUBLISHED. 100%. When depends on when I finish writing it) I will update with more details. It will be available online at amazon, barnes & nobles, and the publisher's website, xlibris. 

--- The Collector: Excerpt from Chapter 1 (unfinalized) 

I now had a thorough understanding of Alzheimer’s disease; a vile parasite of the mind that ate at memories, leaving the physical body to rot as a slave to time. I shivered, unable to even estimate how terrifying it was for her to forget, when she was a woman whose confidence thrived from the reliability of her memories.

Her life was a testimony to the importance of remembering—to constantly reflect and reinvent ourselves with what we discovered. My personal understanding of her was nothing deeper than the surface of what she wanted me to see. As a preschooler my perceptions were limited. It felt like reading her eulogy which I had dug out from the basement in middle school taught me more about her philosophy on life than what I ever saw in her with my own two eyes. Yet her advice to me was not a match to her philosophy. She preached to me values she only wished she’d kept rather than the ones she lived and breathed for 77 years.

She told me to cherish moments not memories. When I finally found the subtle difference between the two, my outlook on life had never been the same.

(c) 2014

Thanks for checking in,

From SkyeLin