Well, I was doing the timeline today(which was now yesterday). I was thinking really hard, and then it hit me! There are so many other events in my life other than Dragonlance! Really, I didn’t have enough space to put others down. There were a few events, however, that I will never forget and will always be thankful for. I can’t even begin to explain how important to be they are. And they are not even about family. These events have effecting me so much, I was surprised when I finally remembered them. How could I forget?! Most are such a part of me….I can’t even explain it. So many things….I get a lump in my throat just thinking of how much they have influenced me. I really can’t believe it. I know I keep saying it, but I cannot stress how much these events are such a part of me. How much I am thankful for them. How much I love them and will continue loving them. I will remember them for the rest of my life. They have determined the direction I am going in now. Without them, I would not be the person I am today.
What is ‘them’ exactly?
1. This one is probably the MOST IMPORTANT EVENT that will ever happen in my lifetime until I find that ‘special someone’. Maybe this is more important. This has outlined my whole life from 5th grade to now.
I started roleplaying.
Do you know what roleplaying is? It is like writing a story, except you play your characters while somebody else plays theirs.
Anyway, I will never forget that day on Neopets website when I saw a wolf roleplay. At that time I had no clue what roleplaying was, but I hit the ‘enter’ button anyway and joined right in.
The rest will be said in the next event. (my character) But, as the years passed, I learned more and more about writing from other roleplayers. There are a few terms we use: ‘illiterate’, ‘semi-lit’, ‘lit’ literate, and ‘advanced’. Illiterate means using chatspeak and sentences like “$h3 w@v3D g00Dby3 nda w@lk3D @w@y”. Semi-literate is only a little better than illiterate. “She said bye. Then she walked away smiling.” Literate is where I am right now. This is where most good roleplayers tend to stay, although advanced is always cool, except whenever you roleplay everybody else seems to horrible. Advanced is like…uber amazing at writing. Need I say more?
Anyway, in order to impress the advanced rps, you must act like one of them by trying your hardest to write at least three well-constructed paragraphs per post. Not hard, really, once you are used to it.
As I entered 7th grade, I became officially known as a literate roleplayer. That was a huge accomplishment for me. I loved to roleplay. I loved to write. And roleplaying triggered the little writer inside of me.
Now, for the record, whenever you roleplay, you roleplay in 3rd person. I have only once seen somebody roleplay in 1st person, and they were not even that good. So there is my explanation as to why I love 3rd person. I am so used to using it when roleplaying.
I know it does not sound all that exciting, but without roleplaying, I would never have started to write. Because roleplaying is writing, except that you are constantly trying to prove yourself to the other advanced writers.
Now, usually, a roleplayer is defined by his intro. That is your first post. You must have a good impression on your fellow roleplayer. You must intimidate them. You must make your intro as good as possible. Then, after that, you may lighten up a bit. After the intro, your roleplayer knows what you are capable of, so you needn’t show them again.
This is an example of a good intro. I wrote this about a year ago doing a Dragon Wars roleplay with an advanced player.

The screaming of dying dragons filled the elven woman’s pointed ears, and she winced as the gruesome sight flew by her.
Swinging her rapier, the woman hit a dragon rider square in the chest, killing him almost instantly. Her own green dragon quickly finished off the other’s flight, and soon both dragon and rider lay together on the ground in death.
“Come on, Grinettee, let us bring glory to our kingdom!” The woman yelled, pulling on the reins of her dragon and gaining altitude quickly. Once the dragon and rider were in the clouds, both looked down upon the raging battle below them.
“Sides are almost equal, my master Kiyri,” the slender green dragon commented. Unlike the bulky dragons of the humans, the elven dragons were much more lean and elegant, with their long bodies and beautiful grace; not meant to fight in a war like this. Although they were bred to complement the elven beauty, this war had forced the elves to train their beloved dragons to kill and fight.
“Yes, I know,” Kiyri said, grasping the golden reins of her dragon. Each dragon was adorned according to the family that their rider came from. A dragon from a poorer family had leather reins and was hardly decorated with little armor, while the richer families, like Kiyri’s, gave their dragons golden reins and strong, bronze and silver armor to protect their delicate frames. Bells and streamers hung on the male dragon as well, expressing the obvious wealth of the Silvanthas family.
“Shall we fight?” She asked, seeing in the distance a red dragon heading for them.
“Of course, my master. As you said, let us bring glory to our kingdom.” The green dragon bolted downwards, bellowing his war cry and letting flames flick from his mouth. Kiyri chuckled to herself, unsheathing the rapier and waving it expertly in the air, challenging the rider before her.
Through the hate in the rider’s eyes, the elven woman Kiyri could see admiration. She was quite used to this, though. She had long, brown hair and bright green eyes that sparkled with amusement. Being an elf, she had a slender, beautiful body that was full of strength and yet looked as if it could break instantly if she was dropped. The woman was around 180 years of age, although she looked only like a woman in her twentieth year. “Fight for Elenenti, Grinettee,” Kiyri yelled, and kicked the dragon’s sides with her heels; the signal to go. The green dragon pumped its bird-like wings and crashed into the red dragon with force, tearing and ripping its hide and frail wings.
The battle raged between riders and dragons. After the successful battle with the red dragon, Kiyri dropped Grinettee lower, near to foot soldiers and horseback riders. He flew until the outskirts of the battlefield came into view, and where the archers were located. Dropping behind the archers, Grinettee landed with ease and bent low to let his rider slide off him. “Please rest, Kiyri,” He said, almost as if ordering the elven woman to sit on the ground and catch her breath. “I will be back shortly. There is a dent in my chest armor that needs to be fixed,” As if to point this out, the green dragon wheezed, “It is making it hard to breath.”
Kiyri nodded and walked off a little, sitting on the scrub ground and observing the war in front of her.

Now, I can say that I could do much better than this, having more experience than a year ago.
But now you see, this has impacted my whole writing in ways I cannot explain. As I always dreamed of doing, if I were an author and at an interview or book signing, and somebody asked me, “If somebody wants to be a better writer, what would you suggest doing?”
I would not hesitate to answer. “Learn to roleplay.”

2. The second most important event in my writing life has probably been Phoenix the Shadow. She was my very first character…ever. I made her up off the top of my head at that first wolf roleplay. At that moment, she was just Phoenix. Phoenix was gray with blue eyes. A normal wolf.
Then, as the weeks past, I started roleplaying more and more with Phoenix. In my first one on one (only two roleplayers, you and another person. The most popular way of roleplaying nowadays.) she fell in love and had four pups, Kaizen, Kayla, Star, and Cloud. Then, I had more and more roleplays with her. Soon enough, in 6th grade, I changed Phoenix. This time, I made her black as midnight with lavender-colored eyes. This was with a very unsuccessful roleplay with my friend Susie Amadon. But it turned out for the better. Then came one of the best Phoenix roleplays I will ever remember. It was with Phoenix and a wolf named Indigo. At that point, I changed Phoenix’s whole life. She was now known as Phoenix the Shadow, Daughter of Baraco the Wolf King, Leader of the Theif’s Revenge, most feared and hated wolf to ever exist.
Yup. That was my Phoenix. She has now a part of me. When something bad happens to me, I think of Phoenix, and I say, “Be strong like Phoenix.” Or I picture her laughing at me (like I did on the solo sit) and then I try to live up to my character. One day I will write a journal entry on her life. For now, I can only say that she is such a part me. I will never love a character like I will Phoenix. All of my friends know Phoenix.
In the end, Phoenix became known as Phoenix the Shadow, Daughter of Baraco the Wolf King, Leader of the Theif’d Revenge, and the most feared and hated wolf in the world. She was pure black and blended in with the shadows, a result of living in them since puphood. Her father was extremely overprotective because of her beauty, which is also her curse. She is lean and agile, with smooth fur and a long, soft tail. Her lavender eyes hold many secrets, while her fiery-orange claws have ripped open many chests and stolen many valuables. Phoenix wears a long necklace with a blue gem on the end of it. (Only in my drawings.) She also has a scar on her left eye. (In the drawings.) Her only mate and love is Indigo, who died unfortunately right before she left to go back to her pack. She had three pups, Kaize (Kay-za), Kaizen (Kay-zen), and Fallen. Kaize and Kaizen died in a battle between the Theif’s Revenge and Baraco’s warriors. Only Fallen is left, although he is nowhere to be found.
Phoenix is with me all the time, even though I don’t know it. It is almost like she has become my guardian angel at times.
I don’t roleplay with her as often as usual, but I never miss a chance to write about my ‘sister’. Like today, for example. I needed to draw something. But I did not know what to draw. I sat and breathed slowly, letting Phoenix’s “spirit” and “being” enter me. I said to myself, “you should not have to think of how to draw Phoenix. It should just come to you. She is a part of you. Draw and it will turn into something beautiful. It will turn into Phoenix, no matter what happens.”

3. Whew. This a lot of typing, isn’t it? Well, you are my teachers, so I think you might just want to know about this. Not many people know how important these are to me. These define who I am and who I will be. They outdo every other event by a long shot. Nothing is better than this. Nothing. Not learning how to draw. Not having my cousin teach me how to part my hair so that it looks pretty. Not getting my first boyfriend.
In 6th grade, I got a wild idea for a book. I was not exactly literate yet, and it took a while to get used to not writing about Phoenix. I called the book Fantasy. I would finish about a chapter a day, or every two days. Usually a chapter varied from 2-4 pages on Word Perfect. I started the book the very first day of PSSA’s. By summer, I had written 57 pages on Word Perfect. I would print out each chapter and give it to my friends to read. They would then give me advice, critique, and complements. I wanted nothing more in life than to continue writing Fantasy. Everywhere I went, I could relate something to Fantasy. I had the whole plot set out. I knew that I wanted them to be a trilogy. I knew what I wanted to do with every single one of them.
Then came summer. It was a very busy summer, and I never had time to just sit down and write. Soon, I pretty much forgot about Fantasy. It stayed on my computer; I knew that I would never, ever be able to delete it. Fantasy meant so much to me. It was my first semi-successful story.
7th grade came along, and I never once looked at Fantasy, although I thought about it quite often. The PSSA’s came along, and I was going to dedicate the entire PSSA week to Fantasy. I would try my best on the tests, all for Fantasy.
My computer was running slow, so I asked my dad to wipe everything out, except I told him I wanted the Documents and Pictures kept on the computer. I had no clue how he did it, but he assumed that I would put the documents on a disk myself.
Qa (sorry, my puppy just laid his head on the keyboard…)
I didn’t. So, all of my precious stories were deleted, including Fantasy.
I am pretty sure I went into a depression for the following three days…at home, at least.
But Fantasy will always be inside of me, that is for sure.