We've had my dog, Whitaker, since I was a junior in high school. We have a major love for beagles in my household, mostly having to do with Snoopy - although he doesn't look like most beagles - and how much we love The Peanuts and Charles Schultz.
In comparison to our previous beagle, Shiloh (cliched, I know), Whitaker is probably the sweetest dog we've ever had. He's calm, passive and really isn't much of a biter. When you're feeling down, he's a fantastic cuddler and great at warming up your clothes on a chilly morning - if you don't mind dog hair. One of the few pets we've owned where I had the chance to truly pick which dog we got. And really, he's been fantastic.
He makes funny noises when I hug him, or bother him in his sleep. Even when we sit on opposite sides of the couch, he'll moan and groan as he tries to make a nest out of the blankets. Or if there's an off chance I'm bugging him, then he'll groan about that too.
Whitaker is super friendly; as in he will greet anyone walking by our yard and whine at them until they pet him. So yes, he's comfortable with strangers. A guard dog he's not. But despite his small stature, he tries his best to look and sound tough whenever he hears a weird noise. In the morning, he'll wake me up when he needs to be let out, or when his stomach grumbles at 6 AM on a Saturday.
I'll probably never be a cat person - although the idea sounds nice - because on occasion my allergies get set off. But I like the loveable looks my dog gives me when I'm sad, or when I get home from work. It's nice to feel wanted, needed or missed.
Somehow, curtains are never where they should be. They always let in light right across my face. I'll be sitting in a spot on the couch, thinking I'm safe from the sunset when BLAM, I get blinded.
It makes concentrating on the TV or my laptop screen even harder. Even if I move one direction or the other, I still get retinas full of sunlight. Sure, I could get up and rearrange the curtains until they block the light, but by the time I finish, it's already set. Maybe tomorrow I'll anticipate the sunset and remember to move the curtain before I sit down and relax.
Movie trailers are made to attract consumers. They're the hook to capture the audience. It's that hook that I see when I'm writing. If I can't see the trailer when I first start a story, then it's not an idea that is ready to be picked.
Every year, plenty of movies come out to theaters in which the filmmaker wants to ensnare the senses and tell an untold story. Or perhaps reiterate a story from an already published body of work. But their goal is the same. And it's that type of entrapment that as a writer, I want to accomplish. I want to capture life and be able to tell a tale.
So, in honor of trailers, a friend of ours (Katie and I) via GaiaOnline, made a trailer for a roleplay we're in that