Read-A-Thon Fail

What’s up guys! Sorry about last week. I had to take a little break on the videos so I could work on another project…Big things soon to come, lol! Anyway, this week is my very failed attempt to read three, possibly four books, in 24 hours. Needless-to-say, things did not go as planned. So this week I pose this question to you; How many books have you read in 24 hours? Have you ever tried? Not-so-pro-tip, don’t do it! Don’t even attempt it! My eyes still burn from my failure. Anywho, thank you so much for watching, please ‘LIKE’ and SUBSCRIBE and I will see you all next week!

Grab any of these books on the cheap at ABEBOOKS:
http://affiliates.abebooks.com/c/1310864/77416/2029

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http://sashascasualmusings.com/

Heartless By Marissa Meyer

Use my link and buy Heartless today!!!

Hey guys! This week we are reviewing Heartless by Marissa Meyer. I loved this book so much and I really want to hear what you all thought of it. Did the last couple of scenes make you shed a tear…Or was that just me lol! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this video as much as I did while making it. Please ‘Like’ and SUBSCRIBE to my channel, and as always, thank you so much for watching!

My Heartless Playlist:

Florence + The Machine – Hunger https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5GHXEGz3PJg
Florence + The Machine – Sky Full Of Song https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R1TSiB9OuVM
Florence + The Machine – Big God https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kIrRooQwuk
Alice in Wonderland (Score) 2010- Alice’s Theme https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ce0dZbPOepE&list=RDQMp0U5kQe6QJc&start_radio=1
Disney’s Alice Through The Looking Glass – 01 – Alice https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toC1bRpSFCk

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http://sashascasualmusings.com/

Buy Heartless

https://affiliates.abebooks.com/c/1310864/77416/2029?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.abebooks.com%2Fservlet%2FBookDetailsPL%3Fbi%3D30077666657%26searchurl%3Dkn%253DHeartless%2526sortby%253D17%2526an%253DMarissa%252Bmeyer%26cm_sp%3Dsnippet-_-srp1-_-title1

How To Make a Vlog About Nothing

Hey guys! I realized this week that I haven’t posted a regular vlog almost all month long…And also, it’s incredibly hot in my office right now so the idea of sitting under hot lights in a sensible sweeter is literally melting my brain right now. Next week we’ll talk about Fury Born, but this week I just needed a day to laze around the house. I hope you enjoy this video, Please ‘Like’ and SUBSCRIBE. And as always, thank you so much for watching!

P.S. Hope you enjoyed that Easter egg 😉

Books mentioned in the vlog:

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas

What Alice Forgot by Liane Moriarty

The Darkest Part of the Forest by Holly Black

Furyborn by Claire Legrand

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http://sashascasualmusings.com/

Watching My Mom Live Out Her Dream. . . Kinda

Hey Guys! Here is part 2 of our SeaQuest adventure in Vegas! Things have been a little hectic lately, which is why I’ve basically only been posting on Fridays. I think it may just have to be that way for a while but at the very least one video a week. This video is the last half of our SeaQuest adventure, and also a trip to the park with Rebel. I hope you all enjoy! Please ‘Like’ and Subscribe to my channel, and as always thank you so much for watching!

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Blog Mistakes We All Make

START SOME WHERE
Daily Planner

Recently I posted a vlog where I briefly mentioned how happy I was that my office was finally coming together. Flying high off the newly purchased coffee table to accompany my small loveseat, I could only imagine the fanciful notions I’d conjure while lounging on it. I had a new organizer and notebook to schedule out my blog posts and write ideas down in. A new set of fresh ballpoint pens sat inside the decorative pen holder, that was also new.

All the things that I felt I needed to write were finally in place, except for the small sheepskin rug that was on back order. . . Bummer.

The Driving Force

It would seem that on the surface, I was ready. Surely, armed with my new pens and coffee table, I’d be inspired to write the most captivating blog posts of my freelance career. Hell, I might even finish my novel this year. With the muse of my perfectly-cute blue loveseat I was unstoppable, right?

Blog Failures

Wrong. As I glance up at my most recent purchase, a bookshelf from Target that’s lately held more used coffee mugs than actual books, I am brazenly reminded that no amount of cute office supplies will ever encourage great writing or ideas.

The year has merely just begun and I’ve spent more money on my office supplies than I’ve made off of my blog. Big Mistake!

Making Up For Lost Blogs

So here I sit, actually writing the first blog of the year. It’s only taken three weeks and about $600, but I’m finally doing it! Let this be a lesson to the children; if you can’t come up with a good idea with a composition notebook from the dollar store, you probably won’t be able to in a designer folio.

Mistakes Were Made 

In the last couple of weeks, while I should have been writing, I’ve done some pretty extensive research on how to run a high performing blog.  I started out by giving my website a mini makeover. I love the new clean look it has. It just seems more accessible than before.

I also took notice of what my favorite websites had writing blogs had to offer. What exactly hooked me to come back in the first place? What was the root of their fan base?

Because We Love A List 

Here is a list I’ve compiled during my last few weeks of procrastination of websites that have given me some real insight into the blogging world.

www.classycareergirl.com

www.thefrugalmillionaireblog.com

www.oflifeandlisa.com

www.gemmabonhamcarter.com

www.florisbooks.co.uk

 

Why Is It So Difficult To Write?

I probably ask myself this question every day, and miraculously, every day I come up with a new reason for my continuous stall. I tell myself things like, “You have a stupid job that you need in order to survive.” That becomes the excuse usually when I’m at the stupid job. Once I get home from work, “You just did a full eight hours of work, you’ve been up since 5:30 am and you have to start making dinner soon, so you should definitely take a 20-minute cat-nap instead of actually working towards your life goals for an hour or so.”

The excuses and procrastination continues into my days off, “You’ve had a long grueling week at work, all I want to do is enjoy my family and relax a bit before I have to go back to that soul draining place.”

It just seems to go on and on until I’m so fed up with myself, that I actually write something. Often I’ve thought, “Maybe this is just my process.” I want you to know that this is not any kind of process. . . Well, maybe the process of someone who takes their entire life to write their first book, lies to themselves all the time and then comes to the realization that once they die it won’t be the book that gets published, but their personal diary has potential.

I understand that not holding yourself accountable is not a ‘process.’ Making excuses until you feel so bad about yourself is only harmful to your piece of mind. I know great art and literature has come out of the direst situations, pain, and anguish. But I doubt the greatest writers of our time became successful by hating themselves.

I’m by no means a successful writer, but I do know a few successful people, and they didn’t build their businesses from the ground up and achieve their dreams by continuously beating themselves.

Those people all held themselves accountable for creating their own opportunities. One of the biggest misconceptions I had once I started freelance writing was believing that someone out there was going to give me my big break. That someone had to notice me and completely understand my voice, and what I had to say. I just had to find that right person who would give me my opportunity.

Since then I have talked to and lived with, many a freelancer that have all proven that way of thinking wrong. These people have taught me an invaluable lesson; You don’t wait for an opportunity to knock on your door. You create your own destiny and you own opportunity.

Have there been people who were plucked out of obscurity? Yes. Is that a common occurrence? No. So you’re going to have to work towards your own dreams because everyone else is busy trying to get their own shit together to bother with you right now.

Chapter 2

 

 

Screams of hysteria could be heard all throughout the venue as the last notes of the set drowned into the sea of hundreds of screaming girls. William had stumbled off the stage a third of the way through the last song of the night, too drunk and short of breath to finish out the gig. Fortunately, his absence improved the bands’ sound tenfold. It was becoming way too difficult to keep up with and understand the slurred gurgling of their heavily inebriated lead singer.  Yet the girls still lost their shit each and every time William opened his mouth to rasp out his melancholic love songs.

That’s why they loved him so much. Will was a damaged goods drunkard that smoked like a chimney, but he wrote and sung about love like he was a modern day Shakespeare. His verbal imagery put most song writers to shame and made the most mainstream artist sound like the mindless prattle of a three-year-old.

Of course, his looks didn’t hurt his case; piercing green eyes, pouty sensual lips that curled the sexiest snarl on just the right notes, high cheek bones, long brown hair, and a sickly skinny form marred with many tattoos. He was the ultimate fangirl fantasy. .If self-inflicted health habits weren’t included in the package.

Will slammed open the door of the green room so hard the door knob left a small dent in the wall. He walked across the room and fell into a black leather couch in the corner. Every night, for about ten minutes, Will had this time to himself while his band mates finished the outro. Each night he would blindly find his way to the green room at every venue and drink until someone picked him up and schlepped him back to the tour bus or the hotel.

From the couch, he surveyed the brightly lit room with glassy blood-shot eyes. To the right of him was a long table with bottles upon bottles of beer, red wine, and hard liquor. There were also small bottles of mixers and a few rows of empty glasses, but refills only got in the way of Will’s determination to continuously drink himself into a delusional stupor.

Now all he had to do was get to the table, or crawl as he did on occasion. It was easier said than done. The room was not only spinning but vibrating as well. The vibration was most likely attributed to the weed/hash combo he had smoked on the bus two hours before hand. Today would have to be a crawl day.

Will gingerly reached his left hand outward towards the ground, trying to find the carpet with his eyes closed. He ended up with his head between his knees for about three minutes while he took a mid-crawl snooze. His body twitched in discomfort and jerked him awake. Remembering the mission, he slowly somersaulted his gangly scarecrow body off the couch and maneuvered himself into downward dog position.

“It’s a good thing nobody’s here to see this,” He gurgled.

Carefully, he crawled with the speed of a snail towards the table that held anything and everything amazing he could possibly think of. The many bottles and glasses shimmered and glowed enticingly under the glorious fluorescent lighting. William had stopped to stare off to the side of the room where the door was, hoping and praying he still had enough time to get to the table and back to the couch before his bandmates finished out the set and walked back to the green room.

The thought of anyone catching him in such a pathetic position lit a fire under his ass. He made it to the table, sat back on his hunches, picked out a dark whiskey, and began to embark one his voyage back to couch island. It’s a sad day when a six-foot-two man has to climb onto a couch, but the motor skills it required to stand and sit had escaped him for the time being.

Finally seated, mostly slouched, he broke the plastic seal on the brand new bottle of whiskey with nibble fingers. No matter how lost in the sauce he was, his body always seemed to go into auto pilot when opening an alcoholic beverage. Though he was panting from very minor exertion, he still felt the need to light up a cigarette so that he may fully enjoy his inebriated state. Once lit, he let it dangle precariously from his lips for a moment before removing it from his mouth, tilting his head back, and chugging about a fourth of the fiery liquid.

“And life is good once again”

Suddenly, a buzzing, tingling sensation ran through his body. It pulsated . . . And also rang?

“Oh, tith’s the phhhone.” He fumbled with the bottle to reach into his front pocket and pull out his cell, adding a dash of whiskey and a sprinkling of ash to his shirt. He held the vibrating phone close to his face in order to read the caller I.D.

“Elise. Clearly, this isn’t the best time to talk!” He growled through a moment of absolute clarity. He then whipped the phone at the wall across from him so hard; half of it lodged itself into the wall. The other half burst into a dozen tiny shards of black metal and glass.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” He murmured softly.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. William sat completely still staring slack-jawed at the little remains of his cell phone. The amber brown liquid in his bottle was stagnant, and even the fluorescents had seemed to cease their incessant hum.  For the first time in months Will felt calm almost centered. A heavy burden seemed to have been lifted for that moment, and he was calm for the first time in a very long while.

Just then, the green room door swung open and a parade of after party goers flooded into the room. Will remained on his couch unfazed by the sudden and unwanted change in vibe and took another long swing from the bottle. Some group of girls with V.I.P lanterns strung around their necks had B-lined it to the couch and plopped themselves very closely to him. One girl’s hand had miraculously found its way into his lap. He followed the view of her hand up to her arm, and then to her face.

She had lots of dark charcoal colored makeup heavily drawn around her eyes. Her lips were the color of dried blood and she seemed to have the entire rainbow spectrum splattered in her hair. She was yammering loudly over the crowd at him about some mindless dribble.

“Oh my God! You guy seriously rocked it tonight! Your lyrics are so powerful, nobody writes like you.” She went on and on impressively never taking a breath.

Will carefully picked up her hand at the wrist from his lap with his thumb and pointer finger, and placed it on her knee.

“I believe tthis belongs to you missh.”

She had finally shut her trap long enough to look disgustedly from her hand on her knee and back towards him.

“Yeah, so anyway, whatever.” She said in a huff, stood abruptly and wondered over to her next victim.

When Will turned his head back towards the spot on the couch that rainbow bright had vacated, his manager Melissa had taken her place. Apparently, even with the cover of all these people mucking about, she had still found some of the tiny pieces of his now deceased phone. She was holding them up to his face, staring back at him with an obnoxiously questioning look.

“I’m gonna need a new phhhone.”

She looked at him with comical disappointment.

“This time . . . Silveeer. Not black.”

Clutching her hands around the metal shards, she dropped her arm out of his line of blurry vision.

“How many of these do you plan on going through on this tour? Ball park figure?”

Will hated when she used her American terms with him.

“If you’d stop giving her my number . . .”

“Numbers,” She interrupted.

“My numburths,” He countered, spittle flying from his mouth every which way.

“Well if you would actually answer the phone the damn thing to see what exactly she wants,”

“I don’t care what that evil bitch wants, she can fucking jump off a cliffff for all I care!”

Luckily, the room was too loud and crowded for anyone to really hear their conversation. Most of it drifted into the crowd and was lost, but a couple of people around their area had heard what Will had said. They turned their backs on them with disturbed looks on their faces.

“Could you possibly keep your voice down?” She whispered furiously into his ear.

“I’m sorry; I don’t even want to be here. I want to go back to the bus.” He whispered back.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his bass player Torgny making his way over to him.

“Well you can’t go back just yet; people from the label are here. And besides, we’re not even leaving Bristol tonight; we’re staying at the Du Vin.”

“Well take me there then.”

“I can’t, the label!”

“I don’t care about the bloody label!”

Thankfully, Torgny interrupted their whisper tangent by shoeing away a girl seated to the right of Will and throwing his ass down on the semi-soft couch cushion.

“How ya doing’?” Torg asked in Wills direction.

Will held up his bottle and replied, “Fabulous,” Completely deadpanned.

“I can see that.” He said without hiding his disappointment.

Will noticed the sad decent of his friend’s face and it actually sobered him up a bit. He quickly tried to change the subject.

“How do you think the gig went tonight?”

“Good, really good, well after you stumbled your drunk ass off the stage that is.

A stab of pain shot through Will’s temples at his friend’s mention of his failure. His conversation diversion had led him directly to an oncoming crash.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized pathetically. “I’ll drink less during the set next time.”

Torg’s nostrils flared and the copper colored skin under his light brown beard flushed red.

“That’s what you said last night, and the week before that!”

Nervously, Melissa reached over and patted Torg on the knee, “Calm down dude.”

People around the threesome had started to shuffle away with extremely uncomfortable looks on their faces.

“We can talk about this later at the hotel,” She whispered harshly.

From across the room, Melissa had spotted two men in expensive suits talking to each other while surveying the room. One was completely bald and stout. He wore a black suit, a crisp white shirt, and a striped gray tie. The other was tall and slender with salt and pepper hair. His suit was a deep blue color, he wore a black shirt underneath with no tie. They were most definitely from the label, and she was pretty positive they had both heard Torg’s outburst.

Torgny was calm now, but Will was just getting his second wind.

“We can talk about this right fucking now!”

He bellowed this as his long legs shot him up into a half standing, half slowly falling position. Blood rushed every which way inside of his body, except for his head. He deftly planted his hand directly on top of his manager’s head to stabilize himself.

By now the whole room was looking uncomfortable and nervous. Some people were checking for the exit and some were just blatantly fleeing the scene. William was teetering from one foot to the other, which was practically breaking Melissa’s neck as she was still acting as the main support system. Now that Torg had seen the men from the label he wasn’t interested in continuing their screaming match. He stood and carefully removed Will’s hand from Melissa’s head. Gingerly, he picked out the strands of hair that had tangled between his fingers and slung Will’s arm around his shoulder to keep him steady. All Will could do was stare off to the side blankly.

“I’m going to bring him up to the room and then I’ll be back down.”

Melissa shook her head in compliance and pulled out a key card from her back pocket.

“Here, make sure there isn’t anything in the room that will cause more trouble.” She said as she placed the fob in his outreach hand.

“Bitch!” Will huffed under his breath.

Torg spun on his heel, quickly schlepping William through the parted party goers that had now gone completely silent. He left the room as speedily as possible while connected to another human being that was a hundred and forty pounds of dead weight.