So, there's color-coding. What else? Add elemental powers, dragons, elves, other creatures and peoples, powers controlled by the mind rather than by spells, a lot of outer space, and you get... this. As of right now, I have some clues lying in the design of my Twitter (Jennifer Cocoa Fulk > @Jennifer_Fulk). Blue and red, black and white, space, dragon, planets.... All are clues of what I'm writing.
Now, combining of what you now know, you have: Elements, dragons, elves, powers, space, blue, red, black, white, planets.
Unfortunately, I still need to write the first two books. Why'd I do that?
Well... long story. Worth reading.
Never knew what to be when grew up.
Watched a lot of Animal Planet at ages 9 - 12+.
Talked to aunt (living with) about being a veterinarian.
Was told that there were risks involved (including bites & losing patients), as well as need for being good in school.
Was very stupid in school (age 12, was bad at everything, had bad spelling & grammar, couldn't write in paragraphs, behind in math [still am mentally retarded in math], hated history [no longer now, thanks to an awesome high school history teacher who was - and still is - obsessed with Star Wars], etc.).
Cried in bedroom and begged God in prayer to give me many big dreams and talents that would help me make up for my "past worthlessness".
Month later had a dream that inspired me to "write it all down so I can remember it" because it was so cool and amazing and realistic that I began to feel like it was the real reality that had been there the whole time.
Wrote it Feb - May of 2005 (12 1/2 - almost 13 years old), often skipping my homework (Concentration was bad and frustrating with an abusive aunt to be home-schooled by = Who would blame me?).
Went back and read it (a bunch of lined notebook papers clumsily stapled together), shook my head at not being able to understand certain words and to read through the confusingly bad grammar I had, wishing I knew how to write in paragraphs.
Gave myself the goal of "Since most authors are smart, I'll have to try my hardest to be as close to that as I can".
By next year, was a lot better (How in the world did I do that????).
In January of 2006, had another dream of the same characters, only with a lot of new characters, woke up and realized it was the second book calling out to me, so I started writing it.
Got caught by my aunt, was told "never to write ever again".
Was bummed for the rest of the school year, but still daydreamed and so planned out a bit more of the book, as well as a short series of daydreams on what I then decided would be the 3rd book (now recently and permanently trashed) (Ha! I just now recalled the original name of it! [lame!] Triple Trouble [fun to say fast, though]).
In late August of that year, started daydreaming at night (there seriously needs to be a word for that) of what I deemed to be the 4th book (now the 3rd book, which I'm writing right now!), started writing it.
In January of 2007, was about to get off Winter Vacation and go back to my home-school center I'd go to once a week, when my aunt discovered I was behind on my fantasy literature class (this was in 9th grade), even though my teacher discussed with me that she give me extra slack for having poor concentration (which I seriously couldn't help).
My aunt pulled me completely out of the home school center, where I was to not have any human contact outside my aunt, my cousin, and my grandma for three years (which is NOT a good thing for ANYBODY to go through).
Was depressed for a half year, before feeling like on the brink of insanity and realizing that it would have a negative impact on my future dreams in life, pulling myself out of it.
Lived in my bedroom for the rest of the time until my aunt's abuse got worse and more strange (never physical), where I put together a plan on how to get out (not easy, but it involved my hospitalization).
Told the nurses and doctors of what was going on, so I got to go live with my mom and sister again.
In that event, I also lost all my writing, poetry, ideas, cassette tapes where I created extremely funny stories using radio recording and experimental voice-acting, songs I wrote, drawings and sketches, acrylic paintings, carved rocks, cool rock collections, a stuffed pink cat from when I was born and an identical one when I turned 7, games and game systems, and numerous other things. (For everything that was paper, including my [3rd book I'm rewriting right now], I knew she would do something with them and it would greatly distress me as to what she would be doing with it, part of my extensive escape plan was also throwing everything in the recycle bin the morning the recycle truck would come [the only reason why I was allowed outside was just to throw out my garbage and recycling every morning -- and yes, I WAS afraid of her chasing after me if I planned to run away to a neighbor's house for help, because she always was watching me]).
After a few years of recuperating, started writing the 1st book again.
Had to pay more attention to school (had to restart high school all over again after my aunt refused to give up my home school proof to the public school system, claiming that she didn't have it).
Graduated and realized I had forgotten the password to the file of the 1st book.
Decided that it'd be better anyway to make summaries of the 3rd, 4th, & 5th books anyway because it was all in my head after daydreaming nearly the entire series with the time I had spent locked in my bedroom (I didn't want to forget anything important).
Aaaaaaaaand... I ended up writing the 3rd book (I have that bad habit of being lengthy in summaries and essays). I think I'm 3/4 of the way through writing the whole book, now.
I feel guilty for writing the 3rd book first, even though I've had support from people I've mentioned this to. They've all said it sounds like a great idea. One distant cousin of mine (IQ of 160) was totally for it, saying that it's like how Star Wars was written.
But I'm starting in the MIDDLE of this series. Doesn't that sound crazy to you? Let me know what you think.
Unrelated:
Here's a random picture of me making funny face selfies (I do it just for fun, to make myself laugh away my boredom, and because I'm weird) as my cat, Sweetie, happens to yawn at just the right moment:
