A Weapon of Mass Construction

The pen is mightier than the sword.

Thought it’d be a good idea to start my post off with both a thought-provoking title and a (mostly) overused quote, just so that you’re efficiently baffled. Perhaps you’re starting to form ideas in your mind already as to what I’m going to write about.

I was talking to my friend last night, and I can’t remember how exactly we got there, but we (REALLY) briefly touched upon the power of words. The conversation went a little bit like this:

Me: It’s so much fun. Writing these whole new worlds.

Him: Yeah I know. Funny how words can completely shape an environment/character.

Me: Yeah. Words are amazing. They can do so much man.

(And then, here comes the amazing bit…)

Me: That’s my next blog post. Words and their power.

So here I am. And here we are.

Let’s return to the quote from the beginning. I actually love this quote so much. “The pen is mightier than the sword.” It’s so relevant and so true. Allow me to enlighten you as to some of the many ways this quote is relevant. But first, some context.

This quote is attributed to the novelist and playwright Edward Bulwer-Lytton in 1839, in his historical play ‘Cardinal Richelieu’.

Francois: But now, at your command are other weapons, my good Lord.

Richelieu: The pen is mightier than the sword… take away the sword; States can be saved without it!

Now, since Richelieu is a priest, there is obviously the stigma that he is not allowed to take up arms against people who are trying to kill him. However, he acknowledges that even though he has no weapons, the power of words is more powerful than any weapon he could use. He even goes so far as to say that without armaments, entire states can be saved.

I haven’t read the play (the above was the result of some quick googling – thanks BBC) but context is always helpful. However, the BBC article also informed me that there were even earlier references to this path of thought.

A similar phrase appears in 1582, “The dashe of a Pen, is more greeuous then the counterbuse of a Launce.” (The dash of a pen is more grievous than the counter use of a lance.) Going back further, the Greek poet Euripides, is quoted as writing: “The tongue is mightier than the blade.” “Four hostile newspapers are more to be feared than 1,000 bayonets,” is another quote comparing a weapon to words, and is allegedly attributed to Napoleon.

So, what we learn here is that many people, not just writers and artists, but world leaders, and leading thinkers alike all seem to have the same train of thought. Let’s keep going.

According to Google definition, ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’ is an old proverb which means ‘writing is more effective than military power or violence.’ According to the Cambridge Dictionaries website, it means ‘thinking and writing have more influence on people and events than the use of force or violence.’

I could go on and on, but I think you get the point.

“But this cannot be!” You say. “How can something which simply emits ink onto a page be more powerful than that which can take lives?” (You’re probably NOT saying this – or at least, I hope you’re not – but just pretend you are for the purposes of this blog post).

Let’s look at this from a more literal standpoint.

The thing about a sword is that it has one purpose: to destroy. I very much doubt any soldier would have picked up a sword and thought “Hey, this would be GREAT to cut my nice block of cheddar with,” or “Perhaps this would look nice if I melted it down and made it into a necklace.” Swords are for killing, really. They don’t have much other purpose. The people who wield swords have one intention: to kill. Yes, swords can take away lives, and yes, they can rip lives apart because of the lives they have taken away.

The thing about a pen, however, is that it also has a purpose, but one which both reflects and counteracts the purpose of a sword: to destroy AND create. With a pen (or a metaphorical pen; I think typing counts too) authors have single-handedly crafted worlds, characters, Kingdoms, realms, and even re-created parts of history, all with its’ carefully wielded use. Yes, pens might not be able to physically kill people – although, I suppose it depends which pen you use – but, to an extent, they CAN physically kill people. Pens can also destroy. People used pens (or quills, rather) to sign death warrants. People write malice and hate-fuelled letters, which can tear someone’s life apart. Newspaper articles filled with slander can ruin someones career… or alternatively build them up. There is very little limit to the power of the pen.

A sword, on the other hand, would not be used for construction. What good can you do with a sword? Swords aren’t made to create. Pens are, however. And words do exactly that.

I also thought that the blog title was rather apt, because a sword, or any other weapon really, is a weapon of mass destruction. But a pen, being as it is, can be used as a weapon of mass construction. I think it’s amazing how powerful a simple word can be.

Words literally create a whole other realm of thought. Reading a book is not just an amazing feat for the reader (who, in a sense, is doing a bit of work on their part too, as no two readers view a book in the exact same way) but also for the person who wrote it. In order for you to have imagined the book, or the character, or the setting, in the way they would have wanted you to, surely that required a level of skilful use of words.

And don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that everyone is necessarily able to use words in terms of literature. But everyone uses their own powerful words in different ways. Some people (like myself) prefer to write their power. Some prefer to speak it. Some prefer to sing it. Some prefer to dream it.

But everything we do with words has some form of power, whether we recognise it or not.

Words were what the slaves used in their songs to empower themselves and each other in the darkest moments of their lives. Today, we have the lyrics of Negro Spirituals to remind us of that. Words were what the Popes of Medieval Christendom used to wage war on countries. Today, we see the effects of the Crusades, all because some men had willed it with their words. Words were what Hitler used to rally the support of millions of German citizens, and instil a sense of nationalism and patriotism within them all. Today, we look back at the horrific results from the rule of a skilled orator and yet an evil, racist, homophobic, misogynist dictator.

Words are amazing. They are beyond comprehension. How is it that we can both look at the same tree, but you describe it in a different way to me? Because the physical appearance of that tree manifests itself in words in our mind in different ways.

Pens are the metaphorical vessels of words. Since we live in the age of technology, I suppose not very many people use pens anymore; we prefer to type. (Speaking of type, I would LOVE a typewriter, actually). But pens, quills and ink, fountain pens, were what many famous poets, writers and singers used to pen their eternal works. The pen was what immortalised Shakespeare, Austen, Chaucer, Poe, Hemingway, Dickens, Tolkien, Orwell, Steinbeck, Woolf, Tolstoy and hundreds of other creatives like them.

So. That’s it. I think I’ve effectively used words to try and explain how words can be used effectively. (Also, the English language is so weird and complicated). To end, here’s a poem which makes me grateful that I grew up speaking English and didn’t have to learn it as a second language. And once again reiterating the power of words, to not only create and destroy… but also to confuse.

I take it you already know
Of tough and bough and cough and dough?
Others may stumble, but not you
On hiccough, thorough, slough, and through.
Well don’t! And now you wish, perhaps,
To learn of less familiar traps.
Beware of heard, a dreadful word
That looks like beard but sounds like bird.
And dead: it’s said like bed, not bead,
For goodness sake don’t call it deed!
Watch out for meat and great and threat
(They rhyme with suite and straight and debt).
A moth is not a moth as in mother
Nor both as in bother, nor broth as in brother,
And here is not a match for there,
Nor dear and fear, for bear and pear.
And then there’s dose and rose and lose–
Just look them up–and goose and choose
And cork and work and card and ward
And font and front and word and sword
And do and go, then thwart and cart,
Come, come! I’ve hardly made a start.
A dreadful Language? Why man alive!
I learned to talk it when I was five.
And yet to write it, the more I tried,
I hadn’t learned it at fifty-five.

Good afternoon everyone, and love you all.

The Faerie Squad Mother x



21 Things That Should Be Illegal

I haven’t listed for a while, and I was thinking whilst I was writing one of my quizzes, and I thought, ‘Hey, that should be illegal!’ Seeing as I am Queen of my own country, I sat down and began to think some more about the things I should outlaw in Astellia, so I have compiled a list, which I will shortly be passing on to the Parliament. But I also thought that I hadn’t posted anything for a few days, so I would upload an edited version of my list onto my blog, and here they are. My top 21:

21 Things That Should Be Illegal (IMO*)

*In My Opinion

  1. Pineapple on pizza – I mean, I know I mentioned this before in my post when I was complaining about pizza, but COME ON now. This genuinely should be outlawed; it is a crime and a disgrace against humanity. It doesn’t work. Why are we mixing sweet and savoury?
  2. Illiterate children – There is nothing that upsets me more than children who cannot read. It is so upsetting, because reading opens the door to so many different opportunities, and opens your mind to imagination. Parents who are unable to ensure their children can read or are competent at basic speaking and writing in English should have a strongly-worded letter written to them.
  3. Really bad books (which are coincidentally published) – I just have a quick question. IF YOUR BOOK IS WRITTEN SO TERRIBLY THAT IT HURTS ME TO READ, HOW DO YOU GET IT PUBLISHED? Because let’s be real here, if you can get THAT published, then ANYTHING goes really.
  4. Finite Staples  It is so stressful when you need to staple a stack of important notes or homework and you press the stapler down and then you get that horrible imprint on the paper which indicates that THERE ARE NO MORE staples, and your heart bleeds… Because that shallow imprint isn’t just on that paper; it’s also made a shallow and painful imprint on your heart.
  5. People who smoke around children – Why. Stop. This. It. Is. So. Wrong.
  6. Teenagers who whine about EVERYTHING (#FirstWorldProblems) – Seriously, I am SOOO sorry that your hair straighteners weren’t working this morning, so you had to put your hair up in a ponytail and come to school – despite the fact that you have ELECTRICITY, hair straighteners, hair to put UP in a ponytail, the free will to choose what you want to DO with your hair and the ability to attend school as a female. 🙂
  7. Slurpy noises – OK. We get it, you’re a couple. We get it, you’re having a snog in the middle of the street. Could you please perhaps a) find somewhere a bit more private and b) stop making those disgusting slurpy noises?
  8. Bananas – Three words; They. Are. Disgusting.
  9. Fruit on Ice-Cream – Not fruit-flavoured ice-cream, because Strawberry isn’t too bad. But WHY would you mix fruit and ice-cream? Similar to point number one, it is degrading of the value of the ice-cream. Come on now. It’s a disgrace.
  10. Fairy Tales – I whined about this in one of my first ever posts, and I stick by my decision. Coincidentally, the title of my post was ‘Fairy Tales Should Be Illegal’.
  11. Certain People’s Opinions – Mostly those people who are one of the -ists: Racists, Fascists, Sexists, etc. Your opinions are not only small-minded, they should also be kept in your mind. They should not be coming out of your mouth. I really don’t want to hear them.
  12. Ignorant People – In relation to number 11, I suppose. If you don’t know about a sensitive topic enough to discuss it confidently and without embarrassing yourself (or having me embarrassing you) then DON’T.
  13. Bars of Soap – I am not condoning not washing – PLEASE, WASH! – I just hate it so much when you use that soap bar to within an inch of it’s life, and then you have to use this slither of soap, but it isn’t doing anything, but you can’t get a NEW bar until you’ve finished with the OLD one, but there is hardly enough LEFT of the old one for you to even use it successfully… I give up. I. Give. Up.
  14. British Parliament – I don’t even think I have to say much more about this. Most of them, especially the most influential ones, are pretty useless, selfish and heartless.
  15. Bullying – I had a bit of an experience (I say a bit, it was quite long AHA) when I was in Primary School surrounding this whole issue, and it is HORRIBLE. It is so horrible that people could be sending their children to school and not knowing the torment they go through when they get there. It is so horrible that people are scared to go into work or university because some teacher or their boss or lecturer is harassing them. It is so, SO wrong.
  16. Privileges in Prison – TV is not a right, it is a privilege. Satellite is not a right, it is a privilege. Video games are not a right, they are a privilege. So why does it seem that some criminals in prison live life better than people on the outside? Purely because they seem to think that these commodities are all rights; but they’re not, in my opinion. They are PRIVILEGES; and privileges that, supposedly, these people who are CRIMINALS shouldn’t actually be given.
  17. Comic Sans – Whenever I see a poster, a sign or a document written in Comic Sans, my heart sheds the tiniest of tears. It is so small, yet I feel the entire portion of my soul leaving my body with that tiny tear that comes from my heart.
  18. Automatic Numbering – The amount of fights that Microsoft Word and I have had because I need to number something, and then it automatically numbers everything else, but I don’t want it to do that, so then I change the formatting, but then I end up with the numbers wildly misaligned, and that is absolute chaos; and then I try to fix it, but it goes awry and I try and get rid of them completely, but then it decides to change my formatting of my document and I end up losing every shred of dignity I have left.
  19. Democracy – I am not hating on the principle of democracy; it’s a fantastic idea, which, in theory, works perfectly. It’s just that every country which calls itself a democracy only seems to be using that title in pretence; because most of them are Aristocracies. So, if they’re going to call themselves Democracies, then they need to BE Democrats, not Hypocrites.
  20. Using the Incorrect ‘Your/You’re’ and ‘They’re/Their/There’ I talked about how much this STRESSED me out, and got a very strong response from another blogger who decided to take my post very personally. (You should read the comments, they kept me entertained for about a week) But I genuinely feel like this is something which should be illegal and outlawed. It is entirely inexcusable for English speakers to not be able to utilise their own language correctly.
  21. Dropping ‘t’s out of word pronunciations – Why is it that when certain people speak, they feel the need to drop t’s out of the word? ‘Water’ becomes ‘War-uh’, ‘Literally’ turns into ‘Lih-uh-rullee’ and ‘Hottentottentotemnoctemhottentottenstalactite‘ is entirely mangled. (Well, even more mangled than it was before…)

I am aware that I probably dropped in some stuff which seemed a lot deeper in comparison to the item it preceded, but ah well. There you see how my mind works. (i.e. Rather chaotically, and without much organisation). Speaking of minds working, my mind is working right now (for once!) so I am going to go and do some writing now.

Hasta luego mis amigos*,

Queen Rianna


*See you later my friends 🙂 (Get some Spanish knowledge there!)

A Glossary Of Terms

You’ve probably noticed, but I’m quite a peculiar person. As a result, all my friends are also unique; not directly because of me, of course, but I have found that I can’t be friends with people who class themselves as ‘normal’. (But obviously, the whole ‘normal’ thing is debatable…) The Crews I form a part of – Astellia, The Lads and Squaaad – are all just like me, in that they are unique individuals, have very… imaginative minds and all have a good heaping of #Banter. My sincerest apologies for hashtagging Banter.

Anyways, I’m getting sidetracked here. I need to keep my post relevant to my title. It IS going somewhere.

Myself and my non-best friend Babs have very interesting conversations, in that we often make up words and phrases, and anyone who reads our conversations without knowing us (even if they knew the context) would think that we are:

a) Crazy. Absolutely BONKERS. Mental.

b) Starcrossed lovers (We’ve been a happily married couple for 20 years actually…)

c) Incapable of speaking English or correctly utilizing spelling and grammar

But basically, because our methods of conversing and the phrases we use are so special, I felt like I needed to dedicate an entire post to them, their meanings, and when to use them in context. So here we have it. DISCLAIMER: The words and phrases are in as much order as mine and Bab’s lives. (i.e. NONE)


  1. Laugh Laugh – When someone says something which is ‘laugh laugh’ it makes you want to laugh. (e.g. ‘Babs, you are so Laugh Laugh’, or ‘Bobs, you should see this Laugh Laugh thing I saw on Facebook’ etc.).
  2. Scienced – When you’re not infatuated with someone, obsessed, or in love, and there is no other term to describe what you are feeling – because it is simultaneously serious but also lighthearted – then you are ‘scienced’. (e.g. ‘Babs, I think I am scienced’, or ‘Bobs, this girl is SO scienced’ etc.).
  3. Quick – When someone badly phrases a sentence that they send to you, and as a result, you, them and your friends make a long-running joke about it. (A joke which, unsurprisingly, lasts longer than them.)
  4. ‘Grilled Tomato’ – When you are on the bus to school in the morning, but you’re really not feeling well, so you speak to an unqualified doctor (i.e. your friend) and she tells you that you are a ‘grilled tomato’. (e.g. ‘Babs, you look like you’re feeling like a Grilled Tomato’, or ‘Bobs, I was diagnosed just now as a Grilled Tomato’ etc.).
  5. Transcript – When you are having a very interesting conversation which you need to share with your friend, but because your phone is tiny, it would take far too long to take and send screenshots, so instead you copy and paste all the messages to her as a ‘transcript’. (e.g. ‘Babs, here is the transcript’, or ‘Bobs, send me a transcript’ etc.)
  6. Screenshot – What you are requested to send when a conversation becomes very interesting and your phonescreen is NOT tiny (i.e. you have an iPhone 6) so you send these to the other recipient. (e.g. ‘Babs, send me those screenshots’, or ‘Bobs, do you want some screenshots?’ etc.)
  7. ‘1 out of 10’ – Used as an insult when said singularly, but used as a compliment when followed up immediately after with, ‘I mean, 8 out of 10’. This phrase is reserved for when your friend is looking especially spicy and asks you how they look, you respond with: “1 out of 10… *pause* I mean, 8 out of 10.” Also, see spicy. Related to ’10 out of 10, would bang’.
  8. Spicy – When the spice factor of one of your friends is 42, and you cannot contain being around them. Also, when you have to drink a glass of water when you see them because they are hotter than the Hot level at Nando’s. (e.g. ‘Babs, that picture is spicy’, or ‘Bobs, you are looking so spicy’ etc.)
  9. Bae – The person who you are ‘scienced’ with, and often call ‘spicy’ or send their Whatsapp profile pictures to your group chats to admire them. (e.g. ‘Babs, your bae is so lovely’, or ‘Bobs, does my bae know I exist?’ etc.)
  10. Poopface – Scathing insult. Related to ‘Poophead’ or other variations.
  11. Meatball – Intensely scathing insult, even more venemous than ‘poopface’.
  12. 🐋💨 – Meaning ‘Brilliance’, often used after an intense ‘Eureka!’ moment. Also used to express appreciation, as in ‘Fantastic’.
  13. Synonym Wars – One person says a word which has many synonyms and the recipient spontaneously replies with a synonym. Then for the next half hour (or until you run out of words) the only responses to each other are synonyms of the word that was originally mentioned. (No repeats allowed or no synonyms in different languages) (e.g. Brilliant? Fantastic? Amazing? Astonishing? Magnificent? Marvellous? etc.)
  14. Emoji Battle – Someone sends a series of emojis and then the person they are talking to has to multiply those emojis or begin a pattern, such as doubling each emoji, doubling every other emoji etc. This is continued until someone’s phone freezes because too many emojis are being sent or you lose count, because there is no way of monitoring how many emojis exactly are being used.
  15. Mistresses – When you already have a husband, but you also have lots of ‘baes’ that you don’t want to give up, so you have mistresses (no matter what gender, they are mistresses).
  16. #PowerCouple – When yourself and your bae/husband/mistress have a moment which you are just immensely proud of, so you have to acknowledge the two of you as a #PowerCouple.

So there you have it. 16 of Bab’s and Bob’s (Bobs is me by the way) key terms which we use in nearly every single one of our conversations. I can’t include more for obvious reasons, like security reasons and personal reasons and copyright reasons and patriarchal reasons and societal reasons and vocational reasons, and standardised reasons and stupid reasons and all that jazz, but these are our favourite. Without a doubt.

I’m gonna sign off here. I have had all these ideas for my writing while I was blogging, but I was blogging, so obviously I couldn’t really write them down. But I’m gonna do that now. Write them down.

I love you all, shoutout to #SabaReiss (we slayed) and then all my NCS Squad, also it’s great to have you back Dezza. Missed you so much. Love all my readers and also the Squad, The Lads and Astellia.

“Goodnight, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Adieu…” (‘Sound of Music’ reference for Frazza, I SINCERELY hope some of you understood that!)

Queen Rianna


Creative Blogger Award

Aha, so here. For once, I am actually doing a post when I said I would. So, I want to say a big thank you to the 5’2″ Sofia, who has nominated me for this award. Go and check her blog out. 🙂

Anyways, I’ve done this before, (that sounded a bit braggy, so ignore that) so I’ll try and get through it quicker this time, without all the rambling that I did last time.


1. Post a link to the person who nominated you and give thanks.

2. Share 5 facts about yourself.

3. Nominate 10 other blogs and give links.

4. Contact your nominees to inform them of their nomination.

5. Provide the rules to your nominees.

Unfortunately, I don’t have 10 other blogs to nominate… I LITERALLY only have two, because my hypothetical third nominee doesn’t accept these award thingees anymore. I feel so pathetic LOL.

My nominees:

Only Bad Chi – Haha, I can nominate you NOW, seeing as the nomination wasn’t from you 🙂 She’s just super duper awesome and I think I’ve made it clear how much I love her blog.

That Disney One – I know I’ve nominated her before, but this is a different category and I still feel like she completely deserves it.

And now for the 5 facts about myself (this should be interesting, seeing as I am not a particularly interesting person)…

  1. I wear glasses. I very much dislike wearing glasses. The reason I wear glasses is because when I was younger and I used to read books under the covers, I had a very weak torch. So my eyes were always straining. To make matters worse, when my parents told me to wear my glasses originally, when I was younger, I didn’t; as a result, my eyes are worse now. They COULD have been corrected but for some reason, I decided not to listen to the voice of reason. So now I wear glasses. I’m used to them now, they’ve become a part of me… but I still hate them.
  2. On my bedroom wall, above the back of my bed, I have a list of baby names. It’s an A4 sheet of paper folded in half – for boys names and girls names. My sister counted and there are about 400+ names in total. (I’d like to point out that this list was produced in an English lesson…)
  3. I hate Coca Cola so much. It tastes disgusting, I don’t know how people drink it like it’s water.
  4. I am a writer. Not just this blog (duh!) but I do lots of creative writing as well. Maybe I will share some of my stories at some point?
  5. My worst habit is that when I am worried or nervous (and I even do it sometimes without thinking, like when I’m concentrating) I bite the inside of my cheek. I do it to both sides and sometimes I even bite the inside of my lip. It is SUCH a bad habit, because when I feel the inside of my cheek, it’s constantly bumpy with scars of where I cut it with my teeth… but it’s really comforting. But I’m working on it. I’m working on it.

And seeing as I did make a promise ages ago, Susanna, I live you, you are my one and only; you are absolutely fantastic and you’re my favourite ginger. (Do you remember on the back of my leaving card to Newark you signed it, ‘From your favourite white ginger’ and then a bunch of kisses?) LOL. Banter. We are gonna have so much fun at all those museums next week. 🙂

Peace out everybody, stay safe, don’t do drugs. Unless they’re medical drugs. And they’ve been prescribed. But even still, don’t take too many.

Queen Rianna


Brain Dump

I’m super sorry I haven’t posted part 3 yet (it looks set to be posted tomorrow) because honestly, I’ve just lacked the motivation. In fact, I’m pretty much lacking the motivation to do ANYTHING.

I’m mostly posting this to reassure anyone who cares that I’m still alive. Right now, I’m sitting in my casual pyjama attire (i.e. tracksuit bottoms and old t-shirt) with my laptop in my lap. I’m also feeling quite content, because I just ate a very nice Sundae.

Yes mum, I will be going to the gym soon. No mum, it wasn’t immensely fattening, and yes mum, I will do some exercise.

There’s some program on TV about medicine or something, which I’m half-listening to while I blog, but my mind is all over the place. I thought that I was past my writer’s block, but have you ever had that moment when your brain just shuts down; not because you CAN’T do it, but because someone else can do it better?

So, I was in the car today and my mind went crazy and I started thinking about writing. I know that I want to do something more stable as a career, but if I could, I’d absolutely LOVE to be a housewife and just stay at home and blog and write stuff and raise kids. And yeah, it seems soo far away, but there’s so many teenagers around my age who are AMAZING at writing and just the idea of them intimidates me.

Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m not a BAD writer but I’m not the best, and when I see people who are so privileged and have so many more opportunities, it kind of puts me off. Today I kind of thought, should I stop writing? Should I try something else instead? When I heard about the 15-year-old girl who got a book published I really wanted to scream, “That should have been me!” And no, I haven’t exactly written a next best-seller, but I really REALLY want to. But seeing girls like this, who seem to be so much more experienced and better writers kind of puts me off.

Obviously yes, I shouldn’t be put off because ‘everyone has different writing styles’ and blah di blah, but for a lot of things that I do, not just writing, I feel like I have to be the best. I’m not talking about the best in an egotistical, ‘I must be better than everyone else’ way, but more in a ‘If somebody is better then I suddenly feel inadequate’ manner. I’m not sure how to put it without making it sound like I want everyone else to be bad at it, but I just mostly want to be very good at it myself. If someone else is also very good, it kind of makes me feel threatened.

People like the girl who got published are kind of… I don’t know, it feel likes they’re just in a whole other writing league to me. Part of me wishes that I had the words of Shakespeare (yep, he’s definitely my writing hero) and could just throw words around like Peeta threw around those sacks of flour. (No, I’m not a huge Hunger Games fan, but Josh Hutcherson is pretty cute…) That part of me is the bit that wants Rianna to keep writing, to write more and bigger and better. To write a novel, to co-author several, to get them all published and become an established author before I’m even out of Uni.

But the other part of me wishes that I never even started writing, because I guess it reduces the chance of being rejected or finding out that I’m not as good of a writer as I thought I was.

Don’t for a second think that this is me having a dip in my self-esteem, because I’m not saying that my writing is TERRIBLE, nor am I saying that I CAN’T write; what I AM saying is that my writing style is still so undeveloped, so immature and basic, and, I guess, there are so many more girls my age, in the same situation as me, who have such advanced and developed writing styles and techniques.

Whilst I sit here and blog out my mind.

I will never stop writing. I can tell you that now, no matter what happens, I will never be able to stop writing. I need to write as much as fishes need water. Well, except a few fish which can survive outside of it… but you get the point I’m making. If I ever stop writing then I don’t know what I will do as a means of creative outlet, or even communicating my mind and thoughts through something unique to myself.

But I don’t know if my writing will ever see the light of day. Like I’ve said about a million times, I’d love to have a book published. I’d love to have some of my poetry published, hell, I’d just love for people to read my blog; but it’s just beginning to seem more and more unlikely. Honestly, some of the stuff that these people are coming up with as ideas, like WOW. They’re amazing. I guess my problem is that I kind of refuse to write a lot of stuff which seems to be quite popular – I refuse to read Dark Fantasy, Horror, Fantasy or any theme focusing around Magic, hence I refuse to write them either. And those seem to be the main ones which people are into now. I don’t really like writing romance, but that seems to be what a lot of my work subconsciously leans towards, and I’m not even that good at crafting them either.

I’m not trying to sound down or depressed, but I’m just trying to think a bit more realistically. Will it be the end of the world if my writing never goes anywhere? No. Will I still have something to fall back on? Yes. Will I look like a loser with lots of documents in a ‘Creative Writing’ folder on my computer desktop? Probably.

I don’t know. I really don’t. I genuinely hope that my writing style will improve and I’ll write better, more excitingly, with more passion, be able to craft and spin stories better; but there’s a part of me that knows I may never have the opportunity to be discovered, that maybe nothing will happen with my skills or my work…

When I started this post, I was going with ‘light-hearted’ and funny, not ‘depressing’ and self-deprecating. Oops.

Oh well. It’s a Thursday evening. (Because of course, stating the date justifies the bum mood! *thumbs up*)

Queen Rianna


Captain von ‘Trapped In An Elevator’

I’m on the internet guys! No, not this blog. (That’s a bit obvious really isn’t it?)

I was a runner-up for that fabulous competition being run by IGGY & Litro, and I’m so excited to have had the wonderful chance to have been shortlisted for it. So my story is on their website now; it’s called “My Children Are All Monsters”. Check it out! (https://www.iggy.net/writingprize/rianna-davis.php)

Anyway. Back to the title.

How, you ask, does ‘The Sound of Music’ relate to being trapped in an elevator? (Or a lift as us boring Brits call it…) Well, in the lift today I had to hum that song ‘My favourite things’ in my head, because I think I was going to have a breakdown. Sorry. Let me start from the beginning.

So, the award ceremony was at the Shard, and obviously, YES the Shard is as fancy as it sounds. I’ve never been there before, and needless to say I was gushing over EVERYTHING. (By the way, the view from the floor we were on was amazing! We could see Tower Bridge and the Tower of London and… Sorry, I’m getting carried away). But anyway, they have these really fancy lifts. Like, there aren’t any numbered buttons inside the lift, you press the number of the floor that you want from OUTSIDE the lifts on these really fancy keypad things, and then once you’re in the lift, you can’t change your destination. At first, I thought this was really cool.

Then I got stuck in it.

There was a bunch of us, probably around 7 or 8 people – my mum, dad, older and younger sisters and brother, my aunt and uncle and my English teacher – and we had just left the ceremony. We rushed to get into one of the closing lifts, and just about made it… But as fancy as these lifts were, they were TINY. Regardless, we’re just going down in the lift, and it opens up on the third floor, so we’re all a bit like, “hmm, don’t think this is the right floor”, (It was of course, but we didn’t know this yet), and remain in the lift.

The lift was possessed.

It goes up. It keeps going up to the 27th floor, it eventually stops but the doors don’t open. Then it goes down to the 7th floor. Then it stops. The doors remain firmly shut. It goes back up again, at which point everyone is wondering what is happening. Is some sick person sitting in the ‘control room’ moving the lift up and down just for the banter?


I start laughing. Very loudly and very hysterically. Everyone looks at me and says, “Why are you laughing?” And my response is the generic one.

“Because it’s funny.”

NO. I lied. I was not laughing because it was funny, because there is NOTHING funny about being in a possessed lift in such close proximity with people that you could virtually see up their nostrils. I laughed because that is what I do when I become emotionally overwhelmed and don’t know what else to do but laugh. It was terrifying.

At which point I started to sing the words I remembered from that tune in ‘The Sound of Music’, which isn’t very many. All I remembered was:”Dah dah dah dah dah… dah dah dah ROSES… dah dah dah dah something NOSES. Brown paper packages tied up in string, these are a few of my favourite things…” And then of course the chorus.

We survived. We did. We got out of the lift the next time it opened on the third floor – we didn’t make the same mistake twice. We all… I sprinted out of the lift and onto the landing and took some dramatic heavy breaths. No, really when you’re in a lift with so many people, everybody kind of uses up all the oxygen. I had to take some very deep breaths to regain all that oxygen that I had lost the chance to inhale before. (I’m not sure where the Science in this is, but I’m pretty sure I’m getting this wrong).

Needless to say, it was an eventful day, and I learnt a lot of things. First of all, I learnt NEVER TRUST THE LIFTS AT THE SHARD, because next time, we might not even be lucky enough to get out. We could be going up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down for ALL OF ETERNITY. We narrowly escaped the eternal hellfire. And I promise you, everyone says that nothing is worse than hell, but I’m pretty sure being trapped in an elevator for the rest of your life is worse.

It felt like the rest of my life. I was sure that when I came out of the lift that the dates for my exams would have gone past. (I’m slightly disappointed that this wasn’t the case but, oh well, at least I’m alive to tell the tale).

Second of all, I learnt that life is too short. When I came across this competition, I was just like “ah, why not, may as well enter it.” I do not regret my decision at all. When I wrote my short story, I thought, “Should I enter it? Will it get anywhere?” and the answer to both questions was yes. Yes, yes, 100% yes. There is no point in living and being scared of doing something, of saying something, of writing or drawing something. As somebody put it succinctly today, “Failure is a springboard for improvement.” Success is not final and failure never fatal. We live and learn from our mistakes and we become better as a result of them, but life is far too short for us to NOT do something because we are scared of failure.

Don’t be scared of failure. Embrace it. Let it teach you what it has to and then let it go. And never forget to thank it for teaching you something that success never could. (Oh, that was a bit inspirational. You can totally quote me.)

So yes, I am proud of my achievement today. No, I am not disheartened that I did not win. Yes, I am happy for all my personal cheerleaders, who came with me and were also unable to come, who supported me. No, I am not upset that I didn’t get to taste those delicious looking chocolate brownie things because I was wearing my retainer. (That’s a lie, I totally am). Yes, I am thankful to God that I didn’t asphyxiate in the lift. No, I am not going to be visiting those lifts anytime soon.

I think that’s all from me tonight. I’m supposed to be going on an Ice-Cream date tomorrow (Ooh, how exciting!) and hopefully I’ll go to the gym or at least clock some time running or something.

Stay strong guys.

Love your super excited Queen Rianna


p.s. I found an apple! There was one left, it was hiding in the fruit bowl under the oranges and it was delicious! (Now there are none left. Now I am sad).

One Last Hope

I am hanging on to my sanity by the tiniest thread. Not only did I have the most fabulous and seemingly incurable bout of writer’s block, I had a fight with my printer – not a physical one, but very verbal, on both of our parts actually – realised that I have the ability and the means to play the instrumental version of “Colours of the Wind”, and may or may not be sharing my mind with someone else.


At any rate, this has been the most average day so far in my holiday. (OK, so I’m only one day in…) I did get some more work done (Go me! I need my own personal team of cheerleaders, who’d like to volunteer?) and had some very interesting conversations with my friends about life; nothing beats DMC’s with Babs and Susanna. (DMC – Deep Meaningful Conversation for all you textlexics).

And today I have no idea what I’m talking about. I didn’t have any life-changing experiences… Well, I had a few, but they don’t even make sense. So the main one was today, I ate an apple (AY!) and then after I ate the apple I sat down on my bed and suddenly felt really sick for no reason. I can promise that it was not in any way related to the apple-eating; it’s NEVER the apple’s fault. So anyway, I felt sick and then – I can’t even explain it – but I suddenly really wanted to eat some fish. Like, my mind started screaming FISH FISH FISH. (Oh, it’s ridiculous, right?) So, I did the first thing logical – picked up my phone to message my mother that I was obviously pregnant since I was craving fish, and I felt sick for an inexplicable reason.

She told me that I probably was, at which point I had a realisation:

Don’t you need to have the sex to have a babies?

Honestly, I’ve been suspecting my pregnancy for a long time, I just didn’t know whether it was real or pseudo. But now I recognise that it was just my mind making it up… Though I’m still unsure as to why I suddenly wanted fish.

Also, the fight I had with my printer was lots of fun. I was trying to print off past exam test papers, and it stopped working after I JUST about managed to print off one. Then it started making funny whirring noises, which I’m sure weren’t normal, and told me that the paper tray was jammed. So I fixed it. But it kept telling me that the paper tray was jammed. At which point I spoke to it very calmly and said, “Excuse me, Mr Printer, the paper tray is NOT jammed, because I rectified that problem nearly five minutes ago. Now if you would kindly shut up and just give me the test papers I needed.” Then it whirred even louder, and I was convinced that it was only doing that to wind me up.

In which case it was working.

And no, it didn’t print off anymore pages. I switched it off, because it was being useless. And please, don’t look at me like that, I know I’m not the only person who makes inanimate objects human or speaks to them. I may be weird, but I know I’m not the only one. (Cue music…)

This writer’s block is fabulous too. How is it that I can whack out almost 1,000 words of absolute nonsense on my blog, but when I need 1,000 words for a short story creative writing competition, all I can get out is my name and age? I’ve never had it this badly before, usually I just read a few writing prompts and BANG I’m back on track. Today, I opened about 937 tabs (not literally, I’m exaggerated from enhanced dramatic effect) of writing prompts and story ideas. NOTHING. NADA. ZILCH. ZIP.

Absolutely nothing. I have never felt this useless in all my time of writing, and I haven’t written ANYTHING for an entire two days, this is a disaster, what is happening to me?!

Anyway, it was the writer’s block that made me realise I may – or may not – be sharing my mind with someone else. When my friend, who usually has lots of ideas, didn’t have any ideas for my story, I made the first logical conclusion:

We probably have the same minds. I mean, in what other situation could we both have writer’s block on the exact same day at the same moment which rendered one USELESS to the other? (Actually, you’re mostly useless anyway…) What fun. I’ll just have to be careful what I’m thinking about, eh?

If you haven’t noticed by now, the title of this post is mostly irrelevant to the points made in this post. I should do this more often, it’s fun to just talk about random stuff. I know certains get pretty sick of me when I’m constantly talking to them about the random stuff that happened in my day… JOKE. Nobody gets sick of me.

So you see those super moist quizzes that you can make about yourself? I totally made one. It’s lots of fun, and it’s so interesting to see who got how many right and also, which ones people got wrong! I’d post it on here, but I don’t think there’d be much point, since I don’t divulge THAT much about my life on my blog in general. Except for the fact that I was pseudo-pregnant. (Is that an actual thing?) And may possibly be getting married.

Well, I think that’s all from me today. I’ve had enough time on this laptop today, and I’m getting a bit tired. Of everybody. No, no, just joking. THIS Queen needs her beauty sleep. Tata my lovely readers, sleep well (if you’re not sleeping already!)

Yawning in excited anticipation of my comfy bed,

Queen Rianna


p.s. Don’t worry, I’ll post something totally read-worthy tomorrow!

I Can Geography!

I really can. I’m so proud of myself, I got an entire mindmap done today (the topic was population dynamics, and it is currently blu-tacked to my wall). I did about 3 hours worth of revision and also answered questions online and went through a couple of practice questions.

Wow. What an amazing day.

Now, with all the gushing aside of how much work I achieved, I think we can move on to more important matters. Today has been a momentous occasion for most of Astellia, in which I think a lot of us learnt very much about ourselves. But what we mostly learnt, and what the moral of the story was… well, actually there were several morals to this story…

1. Cheaters never win. 

2. When you mess with one Astellian, you mess with the whole country. 

3. All for one and one for all. (Every man for himself, Barbara).

4. Don’t try to fight losers, because they WILL come down on you like a pack of wolves. 

So, let me just explain. My sister, (God bless her, you should read her moist post, The Queen’s Sister Speaks) is kind of a writer too. At any rate, she’s written a couple of poems, and she entered an online competition on the Movella site. Now, her poem was fabulous (I’m not even being biased, it was actually amazing), and so of course, rightly it attracted lots of views and likes. HOWEVER, this morning, she was just being curious and searched the title of her poem…

At which point she discovered a link on Wattpad to the exact poem. This is point where we were both a bit confused; first of all, she doesn’t have Wattpad, and second of all, she had never given anyone permission to use her poem. So we clicked on the link, and discovered her poem was under a collection of works by this girl (whom we will not name or even identify to anybody) but this girl had claimed she had written these poems herself… And one of which was written by my sister. Of course, the two of us were absolutely incensed. Not only had the girl not had the decency to credit my sister, but she’d also written in the description that these were poems she’d written herself. (And also had the cheek to command the reader of her plagarised works to ‘enjoy’). At any rate, we were not impressed. Immediately, the two of us hopped onto our social medias (Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr) and messaged this girl, telling her that she had stolen my sister’s work and that she needed to take it down immediately or we would be reporting her. (We reported her anyway, even though she later had the audacity to inform my sister that her poem was ‘beautiful’ – as if we didn’t know that!)

So now. How the morals link in.

Number 1: Cheaters never win. This girl lives in America. She’s some faceless, average girl and she probably never thought that she would ever get found out. But obviously, this is the one time that she hasn’t gotten away with it. When we confronted her about it, she apologised profusely and said that she had “forgotten” to credit my sister, because she ALWAYS credits the people that she takes work from. No, she missed the entire point. We didn’t care about credit, we wanted her to ask to use somebody’s work in the first place. I’m not trying to be mean, but I doubt that she wrote any of the others either, to be honest. So, if you’re into poetry or even writing or reading it, then maybe you’ll know what I mean when I say that every single poem was completely different. Like, with my poetry, my voice runs through every single one of them, so they all have something about them that is similar. These poems that she “wrote” were all completely different and none of them even sounded the same. Hmm. Not even that, but she wasn’t even smart enough to a) change the title, b) change the lines or phrases a bit or c) WRITE HER OWN.

Number 2: When you mess with one Astellian, you mess with the whole country. Not only did I get involved, but also Ewnte, Barbara and Susanna joined in the verbal battle. (Not with her of course, we had to make my sister feel reassured that she had support, so we all offered verbal and moral support). Ewnte suggested that we sue the girl, Barbara made scathing judgement about this girl’s intellect and audacity, and picked apart every single response that this girl made, and Susanna (bless you, you seem to be competing with The Useless One) made her few remarks about her too. All I’m saying is, if we had money and we were more powerful, this girl would be going down. I mean, she had already but it would have been a lot worse if we had the means to. We’d probably see to it that this girl could never post ever again. Scratch that, she’d never be able to get onto the internet.

Number 3: All for one and one for all. I guess this relates to moral 2. The fact that all of us got involved even when it involved only one of us wasn’t, I think, a petty move, but I think it just showed the fact that we all stick up for each other. The absolute irony is that Barbara, Ewnte and Susanna are more my friends than my sister’s, but still we stood strong in the face of adversity, because as far as I’m concerned, nobody’s messing with my sister. And they all have the same mentality, happy families.

Number 4: Don’t try to fight losers, because they WILL come down on you like a pack of wolves. All I can say is, the language used today was colourful, sophisticated, encouraging, uplifting, comedic, humorous and entertaining all at the same time. Far too many people underestimate the ability of losers, they think because we’re at the bottom of the social pecking order that all we wish is to kick everybody else off of it or ascend the ladder ourselves. WRONG. The difference between being ON the ladder and underneath it is that when you’re on the ladder, you are either above or below someone. There is never really any sense of togetherness. But when you’re underneath the ladder, we’re like a pack, and the moment you step off your ladder, and even TRY to mess with one of us, we all pile in.

I just want to say, nobody was insulted (to their face at least), nobody was sworn at or called any nasty names or harassed, because we’re not like that. We might moan about people to make the person who is hurt feel better, but we never, ever pick on people directly. The whole point of the togetherness thing though, is that we are able to formulate plans, to come up with ideas and solutions to combat the problem effectively but also smoothly and with least conflict. Really, we hate conflict.

But at the end of the day, people need to stick up for each other more. There’s too much rivalry between people, especially girls, and I don’t get it! Like, everyone just take a chill pill, make some nice friends and when your time of trouble comes, you’ll have your own personal Musketeers to run to your distress signal. Seriously. You mess with one and you get far more than you originally bargained for.

Needless to say, she totally removed the poem.

Word of advice in the future: Please don’t mess with any of us Astellians. It’s not worth the risk.

Over and out, Queen Rianna


Jesus Take The Wheel

You know when you’re trying to to do the writing thing and you just can’t?

Like, for some reason your brain shuts off or you go blank and then you stare at the cursor, mocking you, DARING you to “Go on. Write something.” So you manage to whack out a couple of sentences, and it doesn’t even make sense; you end up rewriting the same three lines over and over and over again.

But, as Susanna says, “Just because I have no writing, doesn’t mean I can’t writing.” (Yes, I know it doesn’t make grammatical sense, and it’s not supposed to, but please don’t judge me – it’s 19:53 on a Sabbath evening).

What’s been going on with me recently? Hmmm? Well, I’ve learnt that I have very strong tendencies to eat apples. In fact, in the past week, I’ve probably eaten about two every day. This might not sound bad, but first of all, that means that I’m keeping TWO doctors away (and what if I get sick or something!) and secondly, if you knew me, you’d know that I don’t really like fruit. Me eating two apples is weird. Am I pregnant?!

Who knows.

Also, I’ve found out that I have an inclination towards Classical music. I’ve actually found some really nice composers and songs and I’ve even been listening to it to go to sleep a few times. I’m going to start listening to it when I study because apparently it helps to retain information and it puts your brain into a more relaxed state of mind to learn and absorb information. It doesn’t hurt that it’s very beautiful either. One of my most recent top composers is Ludovico Einaudi, his pieces are really calming and I really do believe that classical music can get you feeling some kind of way. You feel?

I’m pretty sure that I want one of his pieces to be played for my wedding march, because UGH it just gives me the shivers. In a good way, of course.

Anyway, not very much has been happening with me. Unfortunately, I haven’t managed to get any more writing done recently. It honestly feels as if all the writing has been sucked out of me, which is exactly why I couldn’t write the other day. I wanted to post something emotional about the plane crash, because I felt so horrible and sick when I heard it, but I thought, I better not before I end up ranting and raving about this man. Of course, I’m not justifying what he has done, but I have no idea what he was feeling or thinking. But I’m not going to get into this, or I WILL become emotional.

I don’t know why but I don’t feel like I have that spark today. The one that makes me want to write and creates worlds with the flick of a pen and make the words on a page come alive. I seem to have lost my ability to command the armies of words that flow from my mind, and it’s making me feel terrible and so useless.

There are a couple more competitions closing within the next week or so, but I’m panicking, because I’m here just struggling to even whack out a sentence, and most of the word counts are 1,000 or above. Honestly, when I’m at school and have lots of work to do, I can sit at my laptop for hours and type and type endless story, my imagination runs wild. And now, I have to do revision and I’m on holiday, so I have more time than before at least, and the only thing that I can do is start with an opening phrase.

Usually, I’ll just type a sentence and then an idea will suddenly come to me and I’ll run with that. Then the more I type, I find words that I can use and phrases that would fit beautifully and then I think YES I’ve got it, and that’s it. But right now, I’m staring at this opening phrase and hoping that something will type itself for me. Really, Jesus take the wheel, because right now, I am not a licensed driver.

I’m also underage. I shouldn’t even be driving.

I have a YouTube tab open, listening to some Classical to get my brain working, but all it’s doing is making me want to sleep. Like, no! Darn you, neural conditioning! Please, please, if I could just get a paragraph, that would be great. At the moment I’m working on about three stories, but none of them are going anywhere, and they’re all better in theory than in practice. Maybe if I had more time, like in the summer, then I’ll get back to writing them. But I’ve done all my research and background on them and everything. I’ve got folders for them and it’s just a matter of time before I find myself adding more to the documents, or maybe even (as I have done in several cases) deleting them altogether and just starting again.

That is usually quite an easy option. It also seems to be most effective in encouraging me to write more, because it’s kind of like I HAVE to write in order to replace the work I’ve deleted and then more because I have to make more progress on this.

All I know is that in the summer (or at least after all my exams) I’m going to be writing like crazy, writing down all the things I never had time to before. (Which is now, because I’m speaking of the future). I don’t have time to do anything it seems now, but I really need to make time. All I can do is hand the steering wheel over to Jesus. (Not literally, because I don’t drive, and not even figuratively; what I mean is myself and Him would have to swap sides, so I’ll end up on the passenger side…)

And also eat more apples. And listen to Classical music.

That seems to do the trick.

Goodnight everybody, it’s too late and OMD I am going to lose an entire HOUR of beauty sleep.

Really raving about this lost hour now. Gosh.

Queen Rianna