Fiverr Warning

I, along with a lot of other indie authors, use fiverr. Well, at least I used to. I attempted to order a project not to long ago. The gig that I ordered costed $5 dollars, but the person who was doing the gig sent me messages demanding more money. I told them no, that I paid for the gig already and they decided to cancel. I wanted a refund (instead of keeping the money in my fiverr account). They didn't give me one, so I decided to make a claim. I soon got a warning from fiverr telling me that I had broken their rules. Something like this may not bother a lot of people, but I think you should be able to get your money back if your order doesn't work out. I also think that you shouldn't be punished for reaching out your method of payment and reporting when something doesn't go right.

Public reading pet peeves

Part of being a writer is being an avid reader. I developed a love for reading at a young age, but a few years ago I stopped reading as much. I started reading again when I picked up the book YOU by Caroline Kepnes, but I still am not reading as much as I used to. When I took a job as a receptionist I ended up finishing a book every three days (I could read at work). After leaving that job I stopped reading as much. I noticed that I usually only read in break rooms or waiting rooms. This means that I read in public a lot, and as a result I’ve developed a few pet peeves.

1.       It irks me when someone ‘needs’ my attention when I am reading. Now I want to make something clear, I am not talking about people that I know. I am talking about complete strangers who think it’s okay to interrupt my reading to tell me something or ask me a question. I am almost always in a room full of people when this happens and there is almost always an attendant or official person who can answer the question better than me. I wish reading in public was seen in the same light as headphones in public.

2.       I hate when random people judge me for what I read. Okay, so I don’t mind talking about books, but I don’t like it when someone asks me what I’m reading just to judge me for it. The last time this happened to me I was reading Midnight Texas by Charline Harris. The guy asked me what I was reading and what it was about and when I told him he said that I was wasting my time and needed to start reading non-fiction.

3.       This brings me to my next point, unwelcome suggestions. I don’t mind when someone suggests a book to me that they think I might actually like, but when someone suggests a book to me because they think it’s better than what I am currently reading….well, that’s when I do what I like to call an inner eye-roll. I love meeting a fellow reader, especially one who’s passionate about what they read, but I’m not interested in certain types of books. I don’t mind people telling me about the type of book that they like, in fact, I’ve picked up books due to hearing about how much other people loved them. I just don’t like when people seem to be judging me based on what I read. *Note, tell me your favorite book in the comments down below.

Okay, so that’s my list for my reading pet peeves. Be sure to leave yours in the comments down below.

Writing prompts

I've started doing writing prompts, and I plan to post them on wattpad. I'm going to post one of the first ones on here.

I pushed my earbuds deeper into my ears, hoping that they’d somehow drown out the sound of the crying baby to my left. I caught a glimpse of the man who sat across from me. He looked equally annoyed, as he swiped furiously on his phone. A family of four brushed past me, the youngest member stepping on my foot as his family exited the train. A woman carrying a newspaper plopped down in the only empty seat, which happened to be right beside me. She smelled of garlic, so I was grateful when we finally pulled my stop. I gathered my belongings and bolted for the exit. My feet had barely grazed the ground outside of the train when I realized that my journal was missing. I let out a small gasp when I turned to re-enter the train. The crying baby and her mother were gone, as were all the other passengers. My heart pounded as I walked towards my journal. The sound of my heels was the only noise filling the train. “What the heck?” I finally asked, aloud.

That’s when I saw him. He was dressed like any other business man, but I knew that there was an energy around him. I wasn’t sure what he was, but I knew that I wanted to avoid him. “I came back for my journal,” I said, holding up the tattered book.

His eyes seemed to glow as he walked towards me. He was a handsome man, the type of man who appeared shirtless on romance novels. I supposed he could have taken any appearance that he wanted, since I still wasn’t sure what he was. He had dark hair and a face full of stubble. His lips turned up as he studied me, almost as if he were amused by me. “I came here to bother you for your services, half-angel.”

I heard my journal hit the ground with a loud thud before I realized that I’d dropped it. “How do you know what I am?” I asked. I thought I’d been careful about hiding, but I clearly hadn’t been as cautious as I should have been.

“Please forgive me, Cassandra,” he said my name as if we were old friends. “My name is Noah, and I’m like you.”

“If you’re like me, you won’t need my help,” I said as I rushed toward the door.

Noah seemed to materialize from the air in front of me, blocking my path. “I do need your help, because someone is hunting us.”