Hey, long time no see! I have a Daddy Dominant now (maybe).

I know, I know. The last update I put on this blog started off by pretty much saying nothing exciting ever happens in my life, and now, less than two weeks later, I’m talking about getting myself a nice little Daddy Dominant. Big leap, I know. So, let’s rewind and take this slow.

Last week on Tuesday, the day I was supposed to update the novel I’ve started posting on here, Savage, I was getting a little . . . stressed? Yeah, stressed. In case you don’t know, which you shouldn’t because I hate sharing, my little sister lives in California (the exact opposite side of this wonderful country from where I live), and since my mother is fiercely violent and neglectful, I worry about her every day and sometimes the stress of it all just crushes me and I find it hard to be happy on those days. (Yes, I know. I need counseling and therapy and yadda yadda whatever. I’m working on it!) Anyways, how does this relate to my Daddy? Well, last Monday my sister called me, depressed and desperate to get away. I won’t say what exactly happened, but let’s just say if I had money for a plane ticket, I’d fly across the globe to get to her just to ease her anxiety.

Anywhoville, I went to the mall on Tuesday, filled out an application and was immediately hired on the spot. Which was good. That was all fine and dandy, but it takes time to build up my financial reserves. I wanted to do more. I need to, really.

You see, my sister has issues. She struggles with depression and, I think, goes through manic episodes quite frequently. She’s a liar, a kleptomaniac, a drama queen, an instigator, and a user. I used to have to solve her problems at school by scaring off people who wanted to beat her up. I actually became known as a bully for a long time, even after she was removed from my life. Recently though, she got deeply into anime, and now she has some weird ass habits, but like they’re super adorable and bubbly, so I encourage her to be however she wants to be.

Now all of those things I’ve listed, they’re not directed towards me. My little sister, let’s call her Anne, is fiercely devoted to me just as I am to her. We’ve always just been really close because no matter the consequences when we lived together, I made sure she was safe and never hurt and I’d do anything I could to keep her fed. So, she’d never dream of turning on me.

The same does not go for the rest of my family. She burned a whole lot of bridges as a kid from her bad habits, and now whenever she comes up in conversation, my entire family seems to cringe, conflicted by their knowledge of what’s going on and that it’s not her fault that she turned out this way and wanting to protect themselves from her bad tendencies. I get it. Anne’s a difficult child. But that’s okay that no one else is willing to help her. I will. My family, my responsibility.

So on Tuesday, I was stressed and frustrated, and I didn’t know how to go about ensuring that in three years, I’d be ready to take on having to support her. Anne works and is a diligent, dedicated worker, so I know she’d be willing and able to contribute to our bills, but I needed a cushion, a pillow of money to make sure that if she was unable to get a job or wasn’t making a lot, that we’d be fine.

Now you might be thinking, “Amelie, how the fuck does a Daddy Dominant equate to money?”

Wait, I’m getting there.

I joined a site called Seeking Arrangement. A sugar daddy/sugar baby site. I know what you’re thinking, I do, but let’s get one thing clear: I would not ever sleep with anyone I met there. I have too much self-respect for that. Secondly, I love older men. Simply adore how they look and how attentive they can be, so don’t judge me, this seemed like a win-win for me. I get to date older guys and they give me a bi-weekly allowance for my time! Perfect, I thought. Wonderful!

And then I got a message from this older gent from far yonder off, we’ll call him “D. D.” because that’s what he was in my contacts for a bit, coincidentally enough. Anyways, so he was very clear about the fact that he’s a Dom by nature and wanted to explore my submissive side with me, something, by the way, that I didn’t write on my profile. Now let’s logic for a second: Amelie is attracted to more mature men and prefers her male partners to be Dominants, but has never, as of yet, had the chance to really explore her submissive side.

Amelie was thrilled. Beyond thrilled.

Don’t worry, by the way, D. D. wasn’t there looking for a sugar baby or anything like that. He was rather similar to me in that we both were looking for something that didn’t have a “transactional” feel and where we could meet up and decide, with no expectations of forming an arrangement, if we genuinely liked the person or not. We both stated that we weren’t looking for jealous or possessive or dramatic companions. (Maybe on another post I’ll talk about why it confuses me why he chose me because honestly I am still very, very bewildered about it. But we’ll save that for another time.)

Anyways, so we messaged back and forth, and I soon realized: hot damn, I’d love to sleep with this guy! Intelligence, quiet dignity, having your shit together — all of that is a huge turn on for me. And then add on that this guy was a Dom? I was sold. He doesn’t know that, of course. He still thinks he has to “seduce” me and has told me as much, probably because my profile says “platonic relationships only,” but whatever, he’ll figure it out even if I have to jump him to get my point across.

So, here I am, quiet, shy little me, texting this guy who’s just oozing all the traits I love and being the perfect little gentlemen when he finally just came out and said, “I must warn you, Amelie (name obviously changed, just saying)” and proceeded to inform me that he found me to be a “stunning” woman who he was “very attracted to” but that he was sexually Dominant and would tell me to do things and expect obedience. He, of course, said that if I ever said no, he’d stop what he was doing immediately because I was ultimately in control over what happened.


A Dom who practices SSC (Safe, Sane, and Consensual) and talks with his potential partners beforehand as opposed to just springing it on them! I was pretty happy. I’d had my doubts that he was a real Dominant because he’d had, up to that point, never mentioned it or took the time to talk to me about that aspect of his life. But anyways, I was pleased that he, thus far, was presenting himself as an actual, experienced Dom and not just some horny guy looking to use their partner as some sort of fuck-toy, which is not, despite my many kinky stories up here, something I desire for myself. I mean, sure, we can do a scene or two like that, but I don’t want one of those Master/slave relationships. It would potentially ruin my self-esteem.

So, we exchanged phone numbers (I used a fake one from a texting app, because I’m just a cautious person by nature and also you never know). The next day, he asked if he could call me that night or the next, and, I’m not gonna lie, I had a mini anxiety thing. Like what would I talk about? What if he thought I was boring because I absolutely suck at holding a phone conversation? What if he’s boring? What if I say something stupid and he calls me out on a it or worse if he agrees with it? What if my voice gives out or I croak like a frog instead of a human? Etc. etc. Just stupid little things that I had to forcibly talk myself out of. Anyways, I agreed that we could talk that night around the time I go to bed.

He ended up calling me around 11-ish because he got tied up in a client’s call that lasted a half century. But then when he did call me, I was surprised. His voice was oddly soothing. I wasn’t ready for that. I don’t even know what I was expecting, but it was not to find myself just blanking out, staring at my aunt’s dog while he talked about his childhood. Honestly, half the things he said I just barely remember because I just could not bring myself to focus. And then he just laughed at this one point, like full body, probably had his head thrown back laugh — I don’t know what about — but I was just kind of sitting on the floor like: O.O . My dog was giving me odd looks, I swear.

And when I did end up speaking, I ended up sounding ridiculous. Absolutely nothing like how I usually sound. I don’t know what it was. I just could not word. All of my statements were either in like this unbearably high-pitched squeak or like this weird, diminutive . . . I don’t even fucking know. It was embarrassing. I dreaded talking just a little bit, so I’d just nod along, hum in agreement with what he had to say, and mumble a “yeah” every now and then. I’m honestly surprised he didn’t just say, “Alright, well it was fun talking to myself. Bye, Amelie!” Like if I was trying to talk to somebody and get to know them and they responded how I did, I’d roll my eyes and tell them it wasn’t going to work out.

Thankfully, he didn’t! I don’t know why he didn’t, but he didn’t!

And I’m glad he didn’t, because a couple nights later, he sent me a story he’d written. Yes. He writes. I didn’t know that, but now I do. He writes. He’s a Dominant who writes. For me. I’m not even going to get into how that made me feel. Just know I almost woke my older sister with my delighted little squeal. Anyways so the story he wrote — for me — was pretty much a little descriptive piece trying to, I think, gauge my reaction to BDSM, of being someone’s property, their “fine art collection.” I’m not gonna lie, I’ve looked into BDSM when I was younger, but it’s not suggested that people underage get into it, so I’ve never really done anything with it. But when he wrote me that little roleplay-like piece, I could definitely see myself in that role, like clear as day the “you” character was me. I was in. At the end, he told me to write him what I think happens next, something I was delighted to see because it seemed like he was giving me a little assignment to do for him, and I was just so looking forward to showing him my writing style!

And when I sent it, I got just the response I was looking for! He told me he was very, very pleased. Very very. Score!

Anywho, so then he wrote a little more — because I inspired him, he said — though, I didn’t see it till the morning because I fell asleep waiting for his text.

What I found interesting though was that he called me “babygirl” in his email and himself “Daddy,” a term I’d been using to describe him to my friend Jenny (obviously changed here too, folks). I was a bit confused because of that, because I knew that Daddy Doms typically have “little girl”s not “babygirl”s. Or so I thought. I poked around the interwebs a bit and sure enough Daddy Dominant/babygirl is indeed a thing. It’s pretty much just another term for a little girl to have.

Ultimately, I ended up getting lost in Tumblr/Pinterest pictures and posts about the dynamic and fell in love. I’ve always been rather randomly childlike. I covet my teddy bears from my childhood, always carry a small blanket with me in my house because I get cold randomly, watch cartoons for kids — do not judge me — and will sometimes become very hyper/innocent in my disposition. I guess this is called being in “little space” since I rarely ever become like this unless I’m with people who are close with me and if I’m in my house. Anyways, so I was curious. I asked him yesterday if he’s a Daddy Dominant (DD) and into the DD/lg dynamic (which, for those of you that are curious, has absolutely nothing to do with incest or pedophilia, it’s just about dependability and comfort, support and communication just like any other D/s relationship. If you’d like to know more about it, I can, of course, compile a list of informative posts on it).

No surprise here, but he is. He’s had littles before, though I haven’t asked anything specific about it yet because I still don’t know what exactly he’s looking for from a relationship between the two of us, so I don’t want to pry too much without covering the basics of our own dealio. And he knows that I’ve never had a DD or submitted to someone before so we’re both aware of the experience level of one another and still have much, much more to talk about.

Now though, I’m fairly certain he plans on flying in to see me, since yesterday he asked if I could go see him and when I said no (because I just got a new job and my dad would find it suspicious if my broke ass could suddenly afford a round trip plane ticket and a hotel and transportation in another state), he was very understanding.

So fingers crossed that in real life, I’ll be better at engaging in a back and forth conversation! And there’s your brief overview of how I may have met my first ever Daddy Dominant. It’s an odd story, definitely not the usual route people take, but whatever, it worked for me. And if it doesn’t work out at least I know now what I’m interested in doing with BDSM.

On a side note: if you have monetary problems, I would not suggest becoming a prostitute. Do not sleep with people for money. That’ll just slowly weather yourself away internally. Stay safe online and be open to new experiences in safe environments. Never meet anyone you don’t know at their house or in a private place. Go big. Go public. And do what feels good for you.

Ciao for Now,

~ Amelie :3

Yes, I Know What Happens

Once upon a time, a young girl sat at her desk and typed up the first two chapters of a new story that she had big, big dreams about, but then the evil villain, Brain, decided to ruin the whole thing by thinking out the entire plot before she even had the chance to write. And so the girl gave up, because she knew what happened and she wasn’t interested in writing it down. The end.

That (above) is a story I know all too well. That girl, believe it or not, was me. I know, shocking. But yes, it’s true. That girl t’was I.

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Not my image, but I promised to post it.

When I first started writing novels, not just like articles or short stories or really small novellas, but actual freaking novels, I was obsessed with that “brand new idea” feeling, and would write up a poop ton of first chapters and seconds and thirds, and when the full book took shape in my head, I moved on to the next great idea, the newest, most shiniest idea that my brain could create. The reason? I wasn’t writing because I wanted to share my work. I was writing because the stories I wanted to read weren’t out there. I took that quote by that-guy/girl-that-I’ll-look-up-and-then-post-the-quote-picture-right-next-to-this-paragraph-later very literally (side note: you tired of hyphens yet?). So once I knew how the books ended, the result was pretty obvious: I no longer wanted to read them — or in this case, write.

It took me a long time to realize that that was the root cause of why I only finished eleven out of thirty-eight novels (yes, I really did count. Do not judge me, that’s not nice).

So yes, my current novel, Savage, has an ending that I know. In fact, I already wrote it out in very detailed, very not left-aligned-at-all notes that I have safely tucked away in my little black notebook. And yes, my idea notebook is literally a little black notebook. Deal with it. But that’s not the point. The point is that the fact that I know the ending doesn’t matter to me anymore. I may have a neatly drawn out map of where I’m going and small events that should happen in order to make things make sense later, but none of that actually matters. And do you want to know why? I’ll tell you why.

Because my characters always have and always will be little bitches.

My characters don’t care about my little black notebook. They see a stop sign scribbled on the side of a page and they scream like banshees, “Fifty points!” and then run it over like they grew up on the streets of GTA. If they were real, living human beings, they’d be those people you read about on the internet who sincerely believe that laws are just “suggestions”. Those kind of people. The outrageously reckless and yet endearing sort that just genuinely do not give a rat’s ass.

So, yeah, I know what I think should happen in this book, but I don’t know what my characters think as odd as that may sound. And that’s why I keep writing. Not because I want to lord my ideas over my thought-babies, but because I enjoy the experience more than the destination. Except Caprice. Caprice was my worst character in terms of doing even remotely what I asked her to do. If Caprice were a person, she’d be a toe. Not even a whole person, just a toe. I don’t like Caprice. She brought me stress and sadness and a whole lot of reworking of a plot that I didn’t even have fully fleshed out, but that she was poking many, many holes in.

God damn Caprice.

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Also not my image

Anywhoville, if you’re a writer, I hope you don’t sweat it too much about the whole “knowing the destination” thing or the whole “my characters are literal douche bags” thing, just enjoy the ride as much as you can and get that story out of you.

Ciao for Now,

~ Amelie

No Note, No Phone Call

It’s been a week since I’ve made a post on my blog, so I figured I’d pop on in and let you guys/gals know what’s up. I don’t want anyone thinking I’m just disappearing or anything like before, but I also despise the idea of giving weekly updates about what’s going on in my very boring life.

That being said, in the span of a week I’ve been fired, moved back in with my dad, and almost threw up at Six Flags.

However, I still do attest to the fact that my life is incredibly, almost super-humanly, boring. I don’t really do much aside from work in the summer, and once school starts up, it’s pretty much still just work but with the bonus of being stuck in a small building for eight hours every day, five days a week. Although now that I’ve graduated, I suppose that’s going to be a tad bit different.

Anywhoville, so yeah, a week has gone by.

In that week, I’ve managed to edit the first chapter of Savage on nine different occasions between watching three seasons of New Girl. I’m currently working on the second one, just smoothing out a few details — mainly sentence flow, keeping up with details, that kind of thing — and I plan to have that up around like, I don’t know, Tuesday? Yeah, Tuesday’s a good day. I like Tuesday. It ends Monday.

So, once that’s been scanned from top to bottom about a dozen different times, I’ll post it up, read it a couple more times, correct a few stupid mistakes that are bound to be there, and then get back to writing up the ninth chapter. (Did I mention I’m on the ninth chapter? I’m rather excited about that. Things are happening, folks. Things.) I’ll also have you know that I have not, despite the many attempts of my over-active imagination, started any other new stories and have dedicated myself to just working on this one — between episodes of New Girl and job hunting across the depths of the deep dark web, cause, ya know, bills.

Oh, also, I’m reading El Hogar de Miss Peregrine para Ninos Peculiares (commonly known as Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children). It’s rather interesting. A slow read considering I haven’t spoken Spanish in about oh, five hundred decades, but good nonetheless. I definitely recommend it, no matter what language you decide to read it in — Polish, German, English, I don’t judge.

So, how was your week? Give me thy thoughts!

Ciao for Now,

~ Amelie

P.S.: Did you know that your plasma is worth more than your blood? Well, now you do. You’re welcome.

Yo, Long Time No See

I went missing.

I confess, I completely and utterly vanished off the face of the web.

And here’s why: my stories were erased.

Yup, you heard me. For the second time, the recovered works were lost. I know, I have the worst luck in the history of worst luck ever.

Anyways, around like I don’t know, a year ago next month, my dad’s computer, which I’d been using to write all my stories, revealed to us that it was indeed old as it proceeded to shut down, reset itself to factory settings, and thereby delete all of my recently recovered works. Now, thankfully, some of my followers had already previously helped me to recover my stuff, which meant that not so much was completely and utterly lost.

But (yes, there’s a but) I kind of lost my love for writing for a long while because at that point it just felt like the world was telling me, “You know that thing you love to do? Yeah, we don’t think you should do that anymore. Like ever.” I lost an entire series that I was working on — for the second time — and with it I lost some of my will to keep typing. Dramatic, I know, but it was rough for me. I had all of this stuff. I had editted chapters. I had new ideas being developed. I had books I was transcribing from pictures that my followers had sent me. And I had hope, ya know?

I thought, okay, Wattpad took me down, but look, look at all the support I have, all the wonderful people to help me get back up. And this time, I had nothing. I had pieces of chapters I’d sent to my editor. I had a broken computer that had broken my heart in the matter of seconds. I had a dad who was telling me I obviously should just give up and write something else. And I had this nagging feeling in the back of my head that this was it, I was done.

I’m not gonna lie. I gave up. I saw the fragmented, broken pieces of stories littered all over my Google account and in my notebooks and I didn’t want to see them. I wanted the stories I’d poured my soul over for hours and hours day in and day out. I wanted to pick up where I had left off and act like nothing had happened.

I’ve tried, repeatedly, on Wattpad to just forget all the work I lost by covering them up with new ones, fresh ideas that were just shining with promise. But it didn’t help. I’d sit down and stare at the words sprawled across my screen, and all I could think about were the characters whose stories I lost and all the feedback I was hoping to get on them. I’ve been pretty haunted this year by the ghosts of characters in my mind and the scenes I’d written giggling to myself about how much my readers would love or hate them.

So yeah, I went missing.

I forgot about writing. I forgot about Wattpad. I forgot about the dozens of stories I’ll no longer be able to read. And I left you all behind. Because honestly, writing was painful for a while there. It just felt like every word would inevitably be erased off the face of the planet, like I was typing into an inevitable future of failure.

I don’t know. I still find it rather disheartening that for the past two years, August has ripped my heart out. Really, I’d like to vote the month off the calendar and formally break up with it so it can stop being such a depressing month for me. But since I can’t, I decided to just say “fuck you, August, I’m waiting for September.”

But then, I graduated from high school in June and I realized, I don’t really have the time to be putting my writing on hold for a month that doesn’t give a shit about me. It’s not alive, Amelie, why are you fighting it? You know, the kind of logical thought process that all normal people would’ve had, I dunno, a year ago? Yeah, I had that.

So here I am. And here, hopefully, you are too.

I don’t have many of the stories I used to. This time, I lost many of the ones that I’d told you guys I had saved and I don’t have the ability to get them back. I don’t have the same drive that I used to, but I try to sit down every day and write something. I don’t have the Recover trilogy anymore which — I don’t know if you guys know or not — I was rather close to finishing and I don’t have the heart to re-start it, unfortunately.

What I do have is more focus. I’m pretty cemented into working on one or two stories at a time because the space on my flash drive is rather limited and I’m terrified of losing more than that by saving something and then finding out it didn’t actually save. And I’m going to start posting one of those — like today — because I’ve been writing it while thinking about how people are going to react and I don’t want this story to haunt me like the others. I want you guys/gals to see it and to know how you feel about what happens. I’m not going to hoard this story to myself because that’s not what I’m writing it for. I want to share so I’m going to.

That being said, I don’t want for you guys to get your hopes up and think, “Oh, Amelie’s back. She’s going to post a whole bunch of stories just like she used to!” Because the truth is, I don’t know if I will. This time, I think I’m only really going to share the stuff that I’m currently writing as I write it only if I feel it’s right. This time, I think I’m going to hold onto certain ones until they’re done and then go the publishing route as opposed to posting them a chapter at a time, because it alleviates some of the pressure for me. I know you guys don’t ask for much, but when I start posting a story, I kind of put unnecessary pressure on myself because I see other people updating so regularly and then there’s me who can disappear for months at a time and I feel bad for the people who like my writing because of my inconsistency. And it’s just a mess that way, so I think this will work out far better.

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See, I heard it.

Anyways~ (yes, I’m still boss as fuck at transitions), thanks for sticking around long enough to read all of this. I hope you stay with me even if my inconsistency irritates you as much as it does me. Maybe, that way, we’ll grow together. Or not. I’ve heard some people never get passed the asshole stage of development.




Ciao for Now,

Amelie J. Hyde

No, I’m Not a Writer, I Just Write

It was brought to my attention that people think I’m a writer just because I write, and not in like a “this is a hobby” way either, but in a “this could be your career” way.

That’s freaking terrifying!

Just think about that for a moment. I write and post some of my works, but does that make me a writer? No, the answer is no.

I see how people could get confused, because I do call myself a writer, but I do so in the same fashion as calling someone a rock climber. I say it like I would say, “Oh, hey, look that person occasionally does whatever and it turns out pretty well. Good job, person!”

I do this because a writer, to me, is someone with dedication. A person who calls what they do a “craft.” They’re the type to never be satisfied with what they produce when they look back at it, and try to improve themselves each time they start something new. A writer, I think, is someone who finishes what they started.


Trust me, I do not bleed.

I’m only two of those things and it’s only because I have artistic angst up the yin yang about my past projects, and strive to distance myself from them as much as possible by getting better. In regards to everything else, I get about a 1/10, possibly a 1.5 if the judges are feeling particularly charitable.

The reason I’m so emphatic about this is that I feel oddly guilty when called a writer. Unlike the true writers/authors of the world, I haven’t done anything. I don’t really have obstacles beyond school or chores. I don’t have to wake up hours early just to get some writing in. I don’t have writing competing with earning an income or parenting. I have free time and a handful of hobbies.

I’ve tried explaining this to almost everyone I know (to which a vast majority called me an idiot, but whatever), and I realized a few days ago, when I got a couple of messages from followers, that I haven’t told you guys/gals.

No, I’m not a writer. I just write.

Also, no, this isn’t a cry for someone to praise me, or tell me I’m a beautiful unicorn doing beautiful unicorn things. Mainly because I know I am.

All I want to do with this post, like many others, is convey a message. This one is just more in your face; mostly because I feel really sorry to all the actual writers in the world who genuinely work to do what they do.

I guess, unlike the majority of people on social media, I don’t think that to be a writer all you have to do is write. If that’s all it took, wouldn’t anyone who ever filled in a worksheet or wrote a paragraph for school be a writer? Kind of makes you think doesn’t it?

Perhaps sometime in the future, I’ll make a different post saying that I have finally adopted a new cap labelled “writer,” and then we can celebrate – maybe. Who knows? So, maybe you agree, maybe you don’t, but either way isn’t it wonderful to be alive? I think so.

Ciao for Now,
~ Amelie J. Hyde

Hello, How Are You?


Yes, that was a song joke. And yes, it’s staying there forever. You’re welcome.

Sorry to break your heart, but I have news. The good/bad kind. Well, it’s not all that bad. It just means I won’t be updating as frequently as I would like. Next week marks the beginning of Camp National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), the July session, and I’ve decided to take a break from editing my NaNoWriMo from November, Recover, and take a month-long breather.

Next week, I’m going to pick up one of my older ideas from my Wattpad days and completely re-vamp it to the point that practically no one will be able to recognize it. The concept is pretty much summed up in my brief synopsis on my Camp NaNoWriMo profile (here), but in a more in-depth look it’s a story that goes pretty much like this:

Savage (working title) is essentially about defining yourself in a society that sets rigid expectations about who and what you’re going to be in your lifetime by the time you’re five years old. It’s about a warrior drowning in the blood on her hands,  and a girl from the past who thinks that the only thing she’s good at is messing everything up. It’s about how no matter how perfect and strong a person may appear on the outside, they could always use a shoulder to lean on when everyone else only offers an “you’ve got this.” It’s about an unlikely pair with nowhere to go but to each other and a bond that withstands the test of time and the darkest parts of the human mind.

Savage, although full of overlapping layers, will not consume most of my time. For Camp, I’ve set myself a low bar of only 30,000, so I’ll have time to pack on top of writing my other projects. Mid-July, I’ll be moving back up North on a two-day trip, so it might be a bit hard to get the things I want to work on done, but I have faith that I’ll at least be able to update a few of the projects on here that I’ve left alone for a while.

So, to sum it up: I’m planning to get stuff done, and I’m feeling pretty hopeful about it. Also, keep your eyes peeled for some new updates heading your way! I should have them done pretty soon, and then I’ll scan ’em over once or twice more before posting.

Anyways, “it’s so typical of me to talk about myself, I’m sorry. I hope that you’re well.” Maybe you’re also preparing for the coming Camp session. If you are, shoot me a message or comment or something! My cabin is a silent mash-up of strangers, and I love hearing about the stuff that my readers are getting up to.

Ciao for Now,

~ Amelie J. Hyde \^.^

Exams, Leg Moves, Updates & Things

It occurred to me the other day (this morning whilst I was having my daily toast and coffee), that I do, in fact, have things – besides school work – to be doing! I know, surprising isn’t it?

So, first I hopped back on Twitter and explored the world of tweeting that I had missed out on – mostly, I watched cat videos and read some memes. Then, I came over here and saw something amazing.

To the people who searched:

“He shoved his hands in his pants boyxboy”

“I boost into cry when he pearce through me with his penis”

“and my firm butt cheeks, its head prodding against the small of my back.”
“he was stroking his giant cock read online”
“boyxboy moan grope ass feel good”

“boyxboy grind bent over nipple moans you like it”

My Favorite (also April)
“best leg move in the history of leg moves boyxboy”

Firstly, I am so happy the option to search things exists on the interwebs. This was so hilarious to go through and read, especially at 5:30 am! Secondly, where did some of these lead you guys to? I am honestly curious as to what comes up when these words are searched. Maybe one day I’ll search them myself and read what pops up! Who knows? Thirdly, thank you for taking the time to type that much. Typically, I type in maybe one or two words, but you guys/gals remembered full out sentences that (I assume) I’ve actually written.

Seriously, though, coming onto here and reading these searches was amazing. For some reason or another, they made me happy. So, thanks!

Now, onto a certain topic I hope will make some of you happy!

I’m going to be re-structuring this site in an effort to make it easier to navigate. Hopefully, I’ll be able to get that done before my next exam, but just in case I don’t, I’ll be sure to have a one shot set up to publish sometime next week, so no one becomes completely fed up with me.

Speaking of being “fed up with me,” I plan on updating every story I have up on this site at least once over the course of the next few weeks. Why? Because the ones I have up are all relatively short, and need to start making some progress. I’m really tired of coming onto this site and seeing everything set at “Chapter One.” It makes me think I’m straggling, falling behind some imaginary goal that I had previously never even known that I’d had for myself, but whatever, side details! So, I now have a timer on my phone to get me to sit down and actually work on them. I’m not sure when they’ll get up here, because I’ve gotten into the habit of leaving my chapters for a day or two and then editing them, so bare with me!

Anyways, I figured I’d just pop in and let you guys know what’s going on, so when you see the site looking differently (possibly fluctuating over the course of a couple of days), you don’t start freaking out thinking you’ve wound up in the wrong spot. I assure you, you have not. Unless you’re looking for someone else, in which case, yes, you are definitely in the wrong place.

Well . . .

Ciao for Now,
~ Amelie J. Hyde

I’ve Been Nominated for the Liebster Award, and Now So Have You

Premise of the Liebster Award (Rules Really)

  1. Thank the person who nominated you and link to their blog.
  2. Answer the 11 questions your nominator gave you.
  3. Tag 11 bloggers with less than 1,000 readers.
  4. Think of 11 questions for bloggers you have nominated.
  5. Let them know (either through social media or their blog) that you’ve nominated them.

My nickname for this award: the Eleven Tasks. My friends have been hearing about it for a good lifetime now (just kidding, it’s only been maybe three days — don’t jusdge me, I honestly had no idea what day it was until today — but I’ve been bugging them for . . . oh, let’s just say 24/7).

The reason?

Eleven blogs is a lot for me. And so, too, is eleven questions for those eleven bloggers. I mean, what if I nominate someone and they say, “Ew, what the heckle butter, Amelie? I’m not answering that!” or “Yeah, sorry not sorry, but I don’t feel like it.” Then, I look like an idiot, and all eleven of the questions I made for them have gone to waste!

(Not that I’ve made any questions, but still!)

Thankfully (for me and my annoyed, could-be-want-to-be murderers), I recently got some followers on here, who have *drum roll* LESS THAN A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS! Booyah! So, shall we proceed? I think we shall!

Edit: hahaha, just kidding. I just never checked the newbies out until the end.

Me Just Being Me (But For an Award)

I was nominated by Helen over at Crispy Confessions! (Also, if you want to know more of the story behind the award you should check out her article here on it (from when she was awarded it), because 1] I am lazy, and 2] she actually went in depth about what it’s about.

Onto the questions!

1. What are you most looking forward to in 2016?

Oh, sweet banana Jesus. There is just so much. First, I’m volunteering this year at an animal shelter, so my love for animals and need for a pet are about to be super satisfied. Second, this summer I’m going up North to see my most wonderful, awesome half of my family. Third, this is the year I get to say goodbye to all of my annoying classmates come the end of the school year! Holy cracker snot, but I cannot wait.

2. Where would you like to be five years from now?

Let’s see . . . on a beach would be nice? Sorry, I’m not really a “look towards the future and make plans” kind of person. I figure whatever I’m doing will probably be boring either way, so why worry about it? I’ll just be disappointed if it’s not like what I envisioned.

So, the only things I really worry about, in regards to the future, are my works in progress (aka if I’m writing, I’m content).

3. What is your favorite food?


My god, if I could eat it everyday I freaking would! Crank up them mercury levels until they’re lethal and just keep them sushi platters coming, people!

(Warning: I am not sure if mercury is the chemical that fish tend to accumulate the most, and if it is not and for some unknown reason you quote me on saying it is, I have this warning label just in case. Thank you, come again!)

4. What are your New Year’s resolutions?

This is going to be awkward. I have none. Zip. Nada. Zilch, man. I’m an odd potato, I confess. I just know that I’m not going to keep to them, and that I’ll get sad when I have to admit defeat, so I’m content to just avoid the whole shindig.

What happens, happens.

5. How active are you on social media? What are your favorite social media platforms?

I’d really like to say that I am on top of my social media-ing, but once again this odd potato strikes again! I suck at being consistently active. I admit it. I used to be so into Facebook and . . . yeah, Facebook, but then I discovered: being lazy is the best thing ever! (That’s just going to be the moral of this pathetic post: Amelie is lazy and not ambitious. Take notes if you must.)

However, my favorite social media platform (despite how terrible I am at updating my posts and such) is WordPress! It’s such a huge platform that caters to a large variety of purposes and people that I find myself drawn to it. Granted, I don’t follow many blogs, or comment on them, but I like to skim through and  read up on people’s stuff.

6. What is your birth order and do you think that reflects your personality?

I’m the second child of three girls, and due to my unorthodox childhood experiences, my birth order does not reflect my personality. Let’s compare and contrast what the internet says to what I actually am. (Source)


  • People pleaser
  • Rebellious
  • Large social group
  • Thrives on friendship
  • Peacemaker


  • Instigator
  • Reclusive
  • Loner
  • Hates people
  • Argumentative

So freaking off it’s not even funny . . . okay, I laughed. I think that birth order can play a role if you have a normal family, but nothing about how I was raised was “normal” perse, and while usually I say “what even is normal??” there is a set standard to family life that we all know (or more like most people must have these basic needs met, or we take your child). So, maybe this is true for other people. I wouldn’t know.

Onto the next one! (Sorry for being a downer . . . it happens.)

7. What is the most influential book you’ve ever read?

Um, there are two ways I took this question, so I’m just gonna answer it both ways! (Oh, oh, look a li’l bit of rebellion, hmm? *wiggle le eyebrows*)

Anyways, the first way I took it: on the world. The Federalists. Boring read for the most part, but still had an impact.

Second way: on me. Twilight. Wait! Hear me out! It made me realize that I can get published. I mean, c’mon, I was in middle school when I read it and I still went: this e.e . . . who the flipper nuggets allowed for someone to publish this?! Maybe my dislike was a bit intense for my age, but I countered it with hope, hope that one day, someone will let me publish my kaka too! <– childhood hope is a very serious thing folks; I still live by this.

Side Note: I am having a lot of fun right now! XD

8. What is your favorite childhood book?

Finally, I mayst declare my love of Peter S. Beagle to the world!


Or at least it was when I was little. And by little, I mean even now because I still have the same book from back then, and sometimes I even take it out and read it to my cousins. They love it. I love it. The world should love it! Do I sound enough like I would consider world domination for this book for you to get the idea? Good. Good. Join my army.

9. What was the last movie that you saw?

At last, it has come.

The question that challenges my terrible memory.

The last movie I saw . . . the only one I can think of is Big Hero Six but that was three weeks ago. There was definitely something after that! I remember seeing it on the table and going, “Oooooooooo, is this for me?!” (Not even joking, ask my padre.)

Whatever, let’s just go with Big Hero Six.

10. Nutella or Peanut butter?

I have a question for you, Helen: is that even a question?!

Peanut butter is old news in the face of Nutella. Nutella shan’t be beaten down by a centuries old, goopy spread like that! Hmph, I’m moving on now!

11. Lefty or righty?

Both. I exercised my left hand when I was in middle school-ish, so now I can write with either or. Although, I typically just use my right since it’s noticeably neater. So, both-ish, I guess?

The Ending Tidbit

So, now I’ve done most of the rules (above, in case you somehow missed them), and by most I mean two of the five. So, I’m like halfway give or take.

My Nominees

  1. Efrussel (not sure how many followers you have, but here you go!)
  2. Charlie (check out her blog here!)
  3. Jeremy (check out his blog here!)

. . . Three is a good number, right? I’m sorry Eleven Tasks, but none of my other followers have less than 1,000. This has actually made me realize that I only really have popular (famous?) followers. That’s kind of awesome, now if only they would speak.

Actually, if you’re reading this and you have only a few followers, shoot me a comment (if you want to) and I’ll add you to the list! Other than that, I think this post is just about over.

My Questions

  1. Why do you write?
  2. What’s the most fun to write about for you?
  3. If you had to, would you write only on a laptop or with paper and pen for the rest of your life?
  4. What book would you like to see made into a movie (yes, your own do count)?
  5. Are you using a pseudonym? Why or why not?
  6. How was your Christmas?
  7. Are you looking forward to your birthday?
  8. Have you ever been outside of the country?
  9. Which is better: bread or butter?
  10. What came first the chicken or the egg?
  11. Who do you know that cannot keep secrets about presents/surprises to themselves? Share a funny story about them (optional).

Cioa for Now,

~ Amelie J. Hyde

PS: Happy New Years. Yes, I’m aware this is really, really late in the game, but when else was I supposed to say it?!


The Evolution (Brought to You By Procrastination)

Instead of working on my NaNo and getting it relatively finished, I’ve gone about fixing the outside. After going back and forth with myself and my editor, the working title of The Sorceress & The Mating has been thrown out, and likewise with the cover.

Let’s take a stroll down memory lane, shall we?

Beginning of November


First try looks pretty good, but the photos had copyrights on them, so I had to look for a better assortment.

A Week Ago (rejected upon sight by editor)


This one was produced after Google Chrome crashed and dropped my more complex one. Sort of like a mock up of a mock up that was trashed as soon as my editor-friend saw it.

Last Night!

(Now two nights ago because of my awesome procrastination skills that were set to work on even this post.)


At last. At long, long last.

No more is the working title! I bring to you Her Divine Shackles, currently at the first sentence of Chapter Six and (supposedly) due to be in my hands by Jan 1st.

You see, for NaNo winners, you can get a free copy of your book, but even though I won, my story is far from complete. Which means that, of course, the best thing for me to do right now is spend my free time making this instead of writing. No worries, though (at least not yet anyways). My editor is in the process of combing through chapters one through five, and is constantly prodding me along with a barbed stick of harsh words being wedged into my backside.

So, there you have it, this is what has been consuming me outside of my mountains of school projects and procrastination techniques.

I really do have to get back to my whole “editing” and “writing the rest of the story” thing, so I’ll just leave this post as it is – short and sweet. I really just wanted to (besides furthering my procrastination time), give you guys something after being MIA for a while. Or maybe it hasn’t been a while, but it feels like forever to me.

Well . . .

Ciao for Now,

~ Amelie J. Hyde

Why A Writer Should Know How to Spell (aka A Lesson in Common Sense)

You’d think that an author would know how to spell. I know I certainly do (think that, not that I know how to spell, which I also do), but it seems some have yet to recognize (yes, that has a z in it and the root of “cognition”, take notes if you must) the wonderful world of Spell Check or Google or, good heavens, use an Encyclopedia if you must!

Why? Because something like this might happen. Observe!

Here we have a Potential Reader (PR) in its natural habitat: the library or their bedroom on some electronic device (you pick).

PR: Oh, this book looks interesting! Nice cover, nice PROPERLY CAPITALIZED title. Beautiful! *They open it and see the author’s page (just hear me out, I know it’s at the end but this is to prove a point). They read it.*

Author’s Page:

*Generic Pseudonym* likes long walks on the beach, siping coffee in front of her labtop, and cranking out heartworming, enthraling romance novels. Shes also an antrepenur who–

PR: *Blinks in disbelief* what? What does that say?! *Proceeds to drop it/exit/does what ye of reasonable education do when faced with such blatant disregard for the English language.*

Let’s Analyze!

Why did the Potential Reader not want to read the book any further?

Well, would you eat a meal made by an amateur cheif without taste buds? Or go rock climbing with someone who has no hands?

But, Amelie, those are completely different scenarios!

Are they? Are they really?

Yes. But that’s not the point. When you set out to do something, such as, I don’t know, write a book or something, you’re wordlessly declaring that you have enough of a grasp on the language you’re writing in to be able to convey your awesome idea. If you don’t then what you’re doing is something that any common Joe could because you’re doing it poorly.

It doesn’t matter if your idea is “original” or “the next Harry Potter.” Everyone with a brain can have a good idea. Pot heads have them all the time, so why isn’t my hometown full of authors?

Oh, right, because you also need to be able to convey those ideas well. Which is kind of hard to do when you can’t even spell the words that you – supposedly – know.

Books are supposed to take the reader away to a place that they couldn’t go before (or maybe they could, but they didn’t feel like it), and immerse themselves in the story there. How are they supposed to do that if the author doesn’t know the difference between their, there, and they’re, or antrepe-whatever and entrepreneur? That’s just pitiful. Really, it is. What’s worse is I know so many writers/poets my age who write like that, so I automatically expect that the person in question is under eighteen, but to be in the rich middle years (of an avg 90) of your life and not know basic words or grammar!

My god, man! Get yourself a very, very, very dedicated editor!

However, I admit that I am hypocritical. I make typing mistakes all the time (about several gatrillion in this one post), and most of the time I don’t manage to catch them all, but – yes, there’s a but! – I’m aware of that and am constantly trying to find them. Some of the worst writers (spelling wise) must have seen their mistake or the red squiggly line under them or at the very least the helpful comments/reviews pointing them out, and went: “meh, that’s not really important.”


I hate to call on such similar examples but that’s like a chief not seasoning their dish or a rock climber not fully strapping in because “meh, it’s not really important!” Flipping what?!

You! Are you even a writer? Do you not feel the urge to strive as close to perfection as humanly possible with your words? You obviously wanted someone to read your magnificent idea, and yet you sit there wallowing in dirtied water saying “meh, this is fine”! What mixture of ignorance and arrogance infused baby formula did your parents give you that you wound up like that?

How to Atone for Thy Sins

1. Grab ahold of the book that inspired you to write.

2. Hold it up high above your head.

3. Apologize to it.

The person behind that book must’ve been so happy to inspire somebody else to pick up the torch and carry on, and you . . . you’ve brought shame upon the long lineage of authors leading up to your torch! Does that even count as a torch? It’s flickering out of existence, yet you keep abandoning it with “meh”s and “it’s good enough”s!

At one point you must’ve had the drive to write. It’s probably still somewhere in you since you keep “writing,” but what you’re doing is not writing. It may be putting words(?) to paper, but I refuse to acknowledge it otherwise. A toddler could write more eloquently than some of the work I see put out there. Spongebob knows the numerous errors would make sense, then!

If you’re an author, write like one.

I make mistakes. You make lots of mistakes. We’re human, but only one of us is trying to get better.

How You Can Get Better Too!

1. Get an Editor

If you don’t have the money for that see number two.

2. Join a writing community

I know of several off the top of my head, but the one I cannot stress enough for the “can’t spell to save my life or the despite asking for Amelie’s help, will not accept it” writer is: Legend Fire.

Yes, I’m about to promote them so hard right now because I love them that much, and no, I am not getting paid for this and will never get paid for this.

Legend Fire is full of friendly people who just want to force you to realize that you can get better if you just pay attention and listen to their advice. If you’re looking to get your head ripped out of your arse and shoved into all of your many, many mistakes, they’ll do it for you. If you want an online mommy to give you a nice positive-negative-positive sandwich, they’ll baby you nicely and tuck you in for a nice round of get your shit together sleep.

And you’ll know, whichever path you take, that they’re not just snobbish “I got published and so can you” people. You’ll be compelled to listen to them, because in that forum all you’ll see are insurmountable mountains of talent and your little kiddy pool of “meh”s. They will inspire you and (possibly before you get over your aversion to strangers reading your stuff) intimidate you. Whether you like it or not, they will give you corrections, and it may feel like they’re ganging up on you at first, but those are not pitchforks aimed at you, it’s helpful criticism with a high dosage of tough love. Because you are better than the baloney (not bologna) you produce, you just don’t know it yet.

3. Talk with Amelie!

That’s right. I’m extremely dedicated to the betterment of mankind, though I prefer working with writers over criminals and pedophiles. Now, don’t mistake me, I won’t edit your five hundred page BDSM romance about how Justin Beiber bought you from your father and kept you in his basement, because ew. However, I may consider one about Justin Timberlake.

I joke, please God no! I love JT too much for that!

What I mean is you can ask me specific questions about some aspect of writing, or send me a link to whatever you’d like me to read, and I’ll give you my feedback. I already admitted I make mistakes, so I’m not trying to edit a fifty thousand page tome. I will miss things, and I’m not down to hold a red pen or sit in front of my computer for that long. It’s just not happening.

4. Google is your friend

That’s right. Google works for everyone and anyone. There are grammar lessons everywhere on the internet, and a majority are free!

5. Tap into the resources nearest you

That guy/girl you’re tight with? Doesn’t s/he also write? And s/he’s better than you at spelling? Corner him/her with snacks and coffee, and pounce when his/her defenses have been weakened.

The point here is: where there’s a will there’s a way. Since few bad writers have the will to get better, they think that there’s no way they can possibly improve. Like I said, their formula/breast milk must have been laced with a potent dosage of ignorance.

Don’t be that one person spelling like they’ve just held a pencil for the first time. Educate yourself. Your PR’s will thank you by dropping the “Potential.”

Ciao for Now,

~ Amelie J. Hyde