In case y'all don't know, this will be my third year blogging. 

Wild Pennings is the third blog I've had in three years. Seriously, guys, I need to get my priorities straight. But one thing I've definitely learned about myself is that contrary to being confident around people in real life, I am the shyest Internet ghost ever. If you don't believe me, check out my follower count. They say that the best way to get followers is to comment on other blogs? That just shows you how much I've commented in three years! *facepalm*

But I think most bloggers don't have this issue? Maybe? Maybe it's just me? Oh please no, not just me. I haven't seen a post like this before, so I decided that today I will show you what blogging looks like from a shy blogger's point of view.




Commenting is probably the hardest thing for me to do.  I want to comment, but when I have this opportunity to think about what I'm going to say before I say it, I tend to over-think.

• What should I say? 
• Should I just say something generic? 
• No, it needs to be me speaking. 
• What if he/she takes this the wrong way? 
• I don't want to accidentally offend them! 
• Does this seem weird to say? 
• What if this person thinks I'm weird because this is the first time I've commented on their blog and I'm already screaming in caps? 
• Will this look wrong when it's published? 
• OH HOLY SARDINES WHAT IF I ACCIDENTALLY PUBLISH A TYPO?!
• I will be SO MORTIFIED! 
• If it's taking me this long to consider commenting, just think how long it will take me to actually comment. *groans*

I read other people's comments and I can't help thinking that if I say anything out on a tangent, I'm weird. I could end up saying the same thing as everyone else, but why do that when it's already been said? If I don't know what to say, is it even worth the time? When so many things could go wrong, it's honestly easier to just not comment.


If you don't know what to say after reading a post, take notes on a piece of scratch paper. DON'T LOOK AT OTHER COMMENTS before you comment. List all the thoughts you had while reading the post. If they think you're weird, that's not your problem. You're trying to be sincere and yourself and that's all that matters as you continue to grow your confidence. I've found that this strategy works really well for me, and it's helped me leave the sincere comments I aim for.




No joke. All bloggers have probably gone through this phase. You see that massive follower count (or what seems massive at the time) and you scuttle out of there as soon as you're done reading. These people are popular. They have Internet friends. And frankly you're kind of scared, because it feels as if you're intruding on this exclusive society of bloggers with 1000+ followers, and you're just the shy Internet ghost (or baby blogger) no one has noticed yet. Just don't even bother commenting!


First of all, you need to realize that this train of thought is WRONG. 1000 followers is a lot, but if you think about it, it's still very, very small. There are over 7.5 billion people living on earth today. 1000 is approximately 0.00000014% of the human population. The only time that number looks big is in your head when anxiety inflates it to that level. Yes, these people are popular, but there are thousands of people out there who are also popular. You could be popular in someone's eyes! And in the friendly blogosphere, these popular bloggers will probably welcome you into the conversation instead of shunning you.

It can be hard to talk to people in real life, but blogging gives us the rare opportunity of connecting with people who see life from a different point of view. In a universe so vast, we tend to make it seem minuscule with us at its center. We need to remind ourselves that everyone else sees life the same way. When our mini universes overlap, we create this magical sky filled with constellations that hold the world together.

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I used to worry about fitting in with a certain blogging group. I wanted to post about lifestyle, photography, and dolls when I was younger, but I wanted my blog to be almost exactly like a specific selection of bloggers I greatly admired. I wanted to have a similar layout, similar discussion topics, and a similar writing style. But I wasn't passionate about any of these things—not to the point where I could post consistently about them and still come up with new ideas. But I still wanted to be a part of this group. If you don't want to fit in, you probably worry about what people will think when you don't try to fit in. Will you get backlash for breaking the mainstream?


On your blog, you say what you want to say. My favorite aspect of blogging is the freedom I have to say what I feel on any subject without being edited by a magazine or a newsroom to meet their political and philosophical views. Once I post something, it's out in the world. Someone is going to read it, even if it's now or years later. You have a voice, and you are entitled to use it. Blogging is one of the best ways to exercise that power.

Don't worry about fitting in. You'll attract the readers who enjoy the things you write. You shouldn't write a specific topic that you don't enjoy just so you can feel part of a "group" or a genre. Don't be afraid of breaking the mainstream. Pick what you will uphold, write about it, and be confident.




I find it easiest to be myself on my blog. I have this preconception that people are just going to find my blog, read my posts, see my winning personality, and spread the word. They'll comment and we'll have long chats together over virtual tea and crumpets. People will come to me. That's not how making friends work. People reach out, but in an online world where you have to climb technological barriers, you have to put in the effort. That means leaving your comfort zone...and that is so, so hard.


Push yourself. Make a goal to find X number of new blogs each week, and start reading them. Make a goal to comment on X blogs that you really enjoy per day or comment on X number of blogs you've never commented on before, but have been reading for a while. Make an effort to broaden your reading list. For starters, comment on this post about how you've overcome blogger shyness! If you want to break out of the shy blogger mold, then you have to take initiative and make a commitment to yourself that it will happen.

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Making online friends felt foreign to me at first. The two reasons I had were, one, you're not talking face to face; and two, this person may or may not be writing under their real name (e.g. me). I'm very Internet-wary; I tend to play things on the safe side, following a blog for a while before I comment. I want to be able to trust them (because there are hundreds of people who use the Internet for bad things).

The other issue I have that keeps me from making Internet friends is I don't know how to start. In real life where you're shoved together, you just say "Hi, what's your name, what do you like to do?" If you share the same reservations as me, then we probably have the same problem: we tend to just hang on the sidelines even though we might really, really want to make friends with other bloggers.


You have to remember that bloggers are people, most people aren't bad, and generally, the blogging community is pretty safe, especially in the Christian lifestyle genre. Pick your online friends the way you would in real life. If you find a blogger you trust (under pen name or not), don't be afraid to reach out and say hi. Don't be afraid to drop a comment on their blog, even a short one, to let them know you enjoy their posts and are looking forward to more. Chances are, the blogger is going to read your comment, feel happy, and probably check out your blog to see what a nice person you are. And there you have the beginnings of a friendship! You might have to push yourself, but it will be worth it. Some really nice bloggers I've met and made friends with are Clara, Ivie, Abby, and Sarah.

Here's the story I promised on Wednesday! It turned out much longer than I anticipated, so there will probably be a part two coming soon sometime this month. Yay! Now that I have officially extended Valentine's day, you have time to finish binge-reading all your favorite Jane Austen books. ;) Also, I apologize for posting this a day late. Life happened. But late is better than never, so here ya go! Enjoy!

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No one knew why it was there. The balloon was just floating there in the middle of the atrium, bouncing gently against the glass skylight. As far as the kids knew, no one had brought a milky white balloon with pulsing strobe lights inside it's body to school that day. Besides the strobe lights, which were drawing a great deal of attention by themselves, painted in the curliest blue handwriting were the words, "Victor be my valentine????" And yes, it was written with multiple question marks.

Jack was the first to see it. He was alone, having come out of the bathroom mid-class, and at first laughed. There was no one in the school named Victor—he knew for a fact because he knew everyone. What a great joke! But the closer he studied it, his toothy smile faded and confusion knitted his bushy eyebrows together. Why would someone release a balloon for a nonexistent person? Victor....

Caroline was the second to to see it, and was immediately suspicious. Who had put it there? What was the purpose of it? Her already narrow eyes turned to slits behind her glasses. No one had signed it. How odd. Something was up. But yet, there wasn't a single girl in the school bolder than herself who would dare use strobe lights. Absolutely ridiculous, it was. Most odd indeed.

Trevor was the last of all the school students to spot it. He was never the brightest little light-bulb in the room, but my!—he had a knack for absorbing strange facts of the paranormal! His first thought upon observing the handwriting was that it had been left inside by an alien species come to seek revenge on the earth-dwellers. He tucked his War of the Worlds graphic novel into his book bag and pushed to the front of the crowd that had formed underneath the strange balloon. If it was aliens, he intended to be the first to verify the theory.

At that moment, the bell rang and students thundered to their classes. The balloon could wait. It was Valentine's day after all. People did weird things on Valentine's day. In just about three minutes the atrium was empty except for three curious individuals, one in extremely rumpled clothing, one with her glasses perched on her beak-like nose, and the third with spaceship patches sewn onto an antique denim jacket.

"Where do you think it came from?" Jack asked.

Caroline crossed her arms and scrutinized the balloon in a way that would make Nancy Drew proud. "I can't say, but a girl definitely put it there."

"Well, duh," Trevor exclaimed. "Unless it was an alien." He sprinted up the nearest flight of steps. He was going to retrieve that balloon and prove to the world that Martians existed. Of course, unless they didn't. Then he would just make a fool of himself.

Jack and Caroline still stood on the floor. "Do we know a Victor?" Caroline asked.

"Not any students. My Grandpa is a Victor though," Jack replied.

Caroline began mumbling to herself. "So no Victors. Strange. Obviously they wanted it to get noticed, hence the hideous lights. Maybe it's a joke on one of the teachers? But the faculty would have claimed it by now." She exhaled a frustrated puff and stomped her foot sharply on the tile. "Jack, I need a yearbook review ASAP. Keep your eyes peeled for any oddballs—"

"Besides ourselves?"

"—who would do something like this." She barked out her next sentence with shocking volume. "Trevor! You have ten minutes to get that atrocity down."

Trevor  stumbled from his perched position on the railing, nearly pitching over it and onto the atrium floor. "Yes, Cap'n!" he shouted back. He jumped off the railing and scrambled down a hallway. He knew this school like the back of his hand. He also knew what types of supplies were in each room. He burst through the empty theater room's door and hurried to the far left corner. A closet labeled "Supplies" held exactly what he needed—a long, hooked pole the backstage hands used to fix the curtains when the curtain rings got stuck.

He hoisted the pole over his shoulder and jogged back to the atrium. He glanced down. Caroline was still there, eyes glued to her watch and foot tapping the floor rapidly. Trevor stretched the pole out towards the balloon and wrapped the hook around the string. When he pulled back, it just slipped out. He grunted and tried again, this time placing the hook at the base of the balloon where it met the string. He pulled. The balloon drifted towards him, bouncing across the glass, but in the end, the string slipped through the hook once more, leaving Trevor empty-handed.

"Hurry up!" Caroline hollered. "Try grabbing the top of the balloon."

Trevor stuck the hook in between the glass and the balloon and hooked it over the top. Slowly, he inched the balloon towards him until he could grab the long string dangling from its base and pull it down. "Got it!" He exclaimed, and dropped the pole. He scrambled down the steps and held the balloon out to Caroline.

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She took it in both hands and immediately set to examining it. The handwriting was unique, definitely identifiable by the many curlicues. The paint could also contribute as a factor. "I'd say the hand of an artist," she announced to Trevor. "Painted in the early hours of the morning either before school starts or the few minutes the school is open before the first bell rings."

"Right," Trevor said. So it was not aliens. It was nice imagining though.

"Talk to people in your next class. Mention the balloon. Keep an eye out for anyone who acts weird."

"Right."

"Don't just say 'right', actually express interest!" Caroline snapped. "We're looking for an oddball girl who is an artist. Possibly sleep-deprived."

"Right," Trevor said again, and darted off before Caroline could say anything more. Who did he know that was strange? Besides Caroline, of course. He stepped into class. All eyes turned on him. Had it not been for the excitement over this mystery, he probably would have flushed and shuffled to his seat with his head hanging. But a thrill ran through his spine instead. There were three girls in his class that fit Caroline's description: Christine, Jacquelyn, and Casey-Marie-Ella-May. Even better, two of them had blue paint on their hands.

Back at the atrium, Caroline wrapped the balloon string around her hand and strode to her next class. She pushed open the door with the balloon hovering over her head and stepped into the room. Heads turned. Eyes widened when they saw the phantom balloon. She smiled mysteriously and took her seat in the back of the room. What was the point of carrying the evidence? Why, clever Caroline, she said to herself, you're weeding out the ones who know nothing about it.

Curious eyes drifted towards the balloon then away, like a slowly receding wave. In her head, Caroline ticked off all the heads that went back to their studies with blank expressions. Tick!—not Brody. Tick!—not Kate. Tick!—not Jasmine. As each head turned away, her spirits sank. No one in her class seemed to know anything about the balloon. Her eyes roved over the students. Then she spotted them. My goodness, she had almost missed them! But there they were, as suspicious as could be: Mary-Ann, peeking under her elbow stealing glances at the strobe lights, and Josh, who was chewing his eraser and forehead pulled deep in thought, watching the balloon out of the corner of his eyes. Satisfied, Caroline sat back in her chair and opened her book. Two suspects identified. Not too shabby.

Of course, I watched all of this play out, following each of the students around and munching on chocolate donuts. I knew who Victor was.  I also knew who had put the balloon there. But no one knew I knew that. I wasn't worried. It made perfect sense to me. After all, no one could see me and they hadn't been able to see me for years. But that's the way things are when you're a ghost. I took another bite of my donut. Mmm, chocolate.





Now I want to know what you think! How can I improve this story? Where do you think my weaknesses are? I am totally hoping for short story mini-reviews and critiques. Please leave me some constructive criticism! 👍

What's up, guys? I hope y'all have had a fabulous week so far! This post is one day late, but I hope y'all take the time to read it all the same. The book I'm reviewing has a special place in my heart. It's about immigrants, cultural and religious beauty, and what it means to be an American. Basically it was a beautiful read and hopefully I can convince you to read it too. ;) Today's book on review is You Bring the Distant Near by Mitali Perkins. Here are the details:





I saw it on the shelf and (again) I was like, "Oooooh, pretty!" And so I waited a couple of weeks and then checked it out. I really love Indian stories, so that was part of it, but mostly the cover is gorgeous. :P


This was probably the most pleasing factor out of it all! There was only one swear word; other than that, the entire book was squeaky clean. I love how the author even refrained from taking the Lord's name in vain too often, so altogether I say that this factor made it a comfortable read that I could just nestle into and focus on the story. Definitely would recommend for 12 and up.





The cast was diverse and unique! It focused on family members of three generations. I liked how they were all differentiated in interests and hobbies. Each of the five characters—Ranee, Sonia, Tara, Shanti, and Anna—had different personalities. Where there was similarity, there was still individuality.

Ranee is Sonia and Tara's mother. She's somewhat coarse and close-minded, and I found it hard to like her much at first, but as the story progressed, I gradually came to understand her. Her few chapters were very insightful into the mind of an immigrant mother who also has a deep cultural connection to her homeland. I love how concerned she was about her daughters and her willingness to change. I'd say her character arc is very apparent, and at the end of the book you get one last peak into her mind that really expands on how much she has changed, which is different from watching her from the POV of her daughters and granddaughters.

I liked Sonia's story, but I just couldn't connect to her as well as I could to Tara. She was equal parts stubborn and fiery, but still managed to come off as gentle and caring. I enjoyed reading from her POV. Her chapters were entertaining and her voice was especially delightful and expressive.

I could probably connect with Tara best. She is on her own, trying to be herself and create her own trends, but at the same time she's worried about fitting in. After just moving to a new country, she worries that people will pick on her if she does something wrong. She's also conflicted about respecting her parents' rules and religious positions, but wanting to break out of the cultural restrictions that her mother places on her. Basically she fears a lot about disappointing the people she loves. She and Sonia have a strong bond that I loved to read about. It was so realistic and reminded me a lot of me and my sister!

Shanti was different from the first three characters because she is more laid-back than her mother, Sonia, while still retaining her strong quest for her identity. Born an American citizen, she sees things differently. It was interesting to see her battle with herself to figure out whether she is Indian or African American. I love how she finally realized that she was both, and managed to convince her two grandmothers not to fight over her. (A rather fun part!):P

Anna was the last one. She had much more fire in her and was really angry most of the time. I think the source of her anger was being ripped from her home in India to live with her grandmother in America. She considers herself Indian, and is constantly fighting everyone around her to feel the same. Sometimes she comes off as pushy and inconsiderate, but I think she's really just desperate to hold on to her home.

Well, since that was a long rant, let's assume that I really loved the characters. XD





The story was a loose plot without much action, but it was littered with engaging bits of dialogue and internal struggles. That's actually what I loved most—the internal struggles in each of the characters and how they dealt with them. The vintage setting was charming even as it progressed to the 2000's. If you like contemporaries or historical books that focus on life in a specific era or political movements in the 70's and 80's, you'll probably enjoy this story.

The focus was mainly on how cultural ideas are passed down through the generations and how they can be constructive or destructive. Each culture that exists in the United States has something to offer. That theme was heavy but not overbearing in a way that says "I'm pushing my culture on you and you have to accept it." It was still patriotic. It reminded me of what our country was founded on. It also reminds me of a lot of supporters of issues nowadays that blatantly ignore the past and try to press their agenda on everyone. This book is a great reminder of what the USA already has compared to other countries where the people aren't so fortunate as we are. Seeing all this through the eyes of immigrant characters written by an immigrant author was really enlightening. I feel as if the representation of a ideas was very realistic and the story successfully carried them through.

The only thing bothered me was the different POV's. There were a lot of them and sometimes it was confusing, especially through the three generations. Occasionally I would confuse events and would have to go back and re-read parts to sort it all in my mind, but that might be because I also had a hard time remembering who was who. The names had me confused in some areas, except for Anna. XD


I loved the writing! The style of Mitali Perkins is similar to that of Joan Bauer or Rebecca Stead, both of whose styles I adore. The quality was great also. She managed to successfully give each character their own, unique voice and still carry the same vibe throughout.

I also want to commend her for tackling the topic of religion in a YA book. I've noticed that most YA books shy away from mentioning Christianity and God, but the way Perkins illustrated it as an important element and set it in coexistence with Hinduism is amazing! God was mentioned several times throughout the book from different perspectives. The mention of religion felt tentative at first, then steadily gained confidence. So it wasn't perfect, but it was an unexpected point I loved.



Romance? I had almost forgotten about that! XD The romance was actually really enjoyable. The couples were realistic and not overdone like in most YA books. The focus was not on teen relationships (thank the stars!). There was a good deal of matchmaking, which was simultaneously frustrating and entertaining. I loved the couples and that they got married!! *squeals of delight* Does anyone ever realize how rare that is in YA books? It makes my heart flutter like a fainting lady in a Jane Austen novel. However, I wish that the couples were a little more elaborated on. Tara and her husband kind of vanished from the story after Anna took over. :/