Curtains

Curtain Poles B

Ever since some RVs were donated to people by FEMA after Hurricane Katrina, the worry fact 00004000 or has increased about the amount of formaldehyde in motor homes. Where does formaldehyde originate? How much are you exposed to in a general way? How much formaldehyde is in your used motor home?

Formaldehyde is found in many places

There are many sources of formaldehyde, and everyone is exposed to a certain amount every day. It is found in trees, cabbage, Brussels sprouts, some cosmetics, and cigarette and cigar smoke. There is some in antiseptics, medications, dishwashing liquid, shoe polish, nail polish and hardeners, cleaning products, and glues.

Gas and kerosene flames, some types of permanent press clothing, draperies, and fiberglass emit some formaldehyde. Livestock eat it, and it is used to process cheese, some fish, and juices. In short, formaldehyde is a naturally occurring and organic compound.


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Sanderson Curtain Material

Asbestos is a thread-like mineral that has historically been used to add strength and heat-resistance to construction and other materials. Asbestos is cheap, readily available, and easy to work with, so throughout the twentieth century in much of the world, it was treated as a "miracle mineral" for fireproofing everything from insulation material to clothing to theatrical fire curtains. However, when it became widely known in the 1970s that asbestos could cause serious lung problems, many nations began prohibiting its use. Just this year, Turkey has joined many other countries in officially banning this dangerous substance.

When asbestos fibers are 00004000 inhaled or ingested, they lodge in the body, where they can cause problems such as lung scarring, asbestosis, and mesothelioma. Symptoms of mesothelioma, an aggressive cancer of the lining of the lungs, are easily confused with other conditions, meaning that the cancer may not be diagnosed until it is in its later stages and far more resistant to traditional treatment. The Turkish parliament released a report claiming that the rate of asbestos-related cancers such as mesothelioma in Turkey was a staggering 700 times that of the world average. Environmental groups are rejoicing at the ban, but still pushing for further measures to ensure public safety in the country.

While asbestos itself will no longer be exported or imported, shipbreaking continues to be a vital industry in Turkey. Vessels from all around the world are brought to Aliaga, a port in the Izmir province, to be dismantled and sold for scrap. This allows some parts of the ship to be reused, but unfortunately, it can also expose workers and others in the area to asbestos. The mineral was used extensively in watercraft, especially in navy ships, because the danger of fire at sea from malfunction or enemy fire was so high. Asbestos-containing materials were used to insulate the boiler, engine room, and other parts of the ship so that if a fire did break out, it could be more easily contained.

When the ships are taken apart, the asbestos-containing materials are damaged and deadly fibers are released into the air. Because of these health hazards, organizations such as the Yuva Society are working to phase out the shipbreaking industry and make sure that developed countries do not continue to transfer toxic materials to developing nations.

The dangers of shipbreaking are minimal for casual travelers, especially within the city limits of Istanbul, but it pays to be aware of possible sources of asbestos. Since there are naturally-occurring deposits of the mineral in central and eastern Turkey, soil containing the material has traditionally been used to plaster or whitewash walls in some villages. Travelers to these areas should avoid construction sites and dust, being careful not to inhale or ingest the soil. Mesothelioma symptoms are serious, and travelers should take care to protect their health while visiting this fascinating and history-rich country.


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Argos Shower Curtain

A listing of the probable top 10 boys toys has been confirmed by Argos, in the run up to Christmas. You will discover hardly any surprises incorporated in the listing, with the usual suspects making it in, but the predicted top toy has emerged from nowhere.

In past times, if you imagine construction toys for kids you would doubtless think right away of labels like Lego or Meccano, in fact they have been on the scene for eternity - my spouse grew up with these so they have - furthermore they are a permanent inclusion in the top 10 boys toys for Christmas roll. Anyhow there is a new kid on the block. Made by the toy maker Jakks Pacific, the Real Construction Deluxe Workshop is about to leave a smile on hordes of children's faces this Xmas holiday.

We recognize all to well that boys like to build bits and pieces, give them a hammer, some nails and some wood and parents could forget them as they worked away. I might be actually giving away my age at this point because that could have been a long ago, there's now health and safety, and in any case no one in their right mind is going to permit their child get their hands on a screwdriver, hammer or saw, the probable outcome does not stand contemplating.

And so, little ones still like to build bits and pieces but recently have only been able to watch Dad or Mom do the D.I.Y. They harass you to let them "lend a hand" but you will be too aware of the potential consequences. During that phase the construction toys for kids had been well below what kids wanted to play with, childish plastic tools with daft names that did no more than create a noise and consume batteries.

The top ten boys toys list this year proves that has all changed with the introduction of Jakks Pacific's construction toys for kids. They have caught the imagination of kids and parents alike. Aided by the wood like foam, called Kid-Wood by the manufacturers, that cuts and nails like proper lumber and the real looking looking equipment, it's no surprise that this array of construction toys for kids is all set to head the top 10 boys toys this Xmas.


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Net Curtain Material

Fabric shower curtains are a style solution for any bathroom but they only ever seem to be found in posh boutique hotels or abroad in places like Australia and the US. IT seems little old Blighty just hasn’t ‘cottoned’ on to this fabric shower curtain trend.

Fabric shower curtains are often made in heavy fabric which if made in good quality will drape beautifully over your bath acting as a seductive screen and a supreme setting which oozes luxury. This kind of shower curtain will add an illusion of expense and is a great way of adding a new feature to your bathroom without going to the trouble of redoing the whole room.

A fabric shower curtain is a fabulous way to draw attention to an individual characteristic bath. Victorian baths often look ridiculous when teamed with typical plastic shower curtains yet a fabric shower curtain will add to the boudoir bathroom feel and will scream luxury.


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Prestigious Curtain Fabric

Made to measure curtains created for your pleasure using a variety of prestigious textiles

Ready made curtains are ok in their own way but you can't beat made to measure products if you want to create a wow factor. Especially if you order made to measure items that are created using the finest of prestigious textiles. Put plans into place to order curtains for a particular room within your home and prestigious textiles can be incorporated within the design. Want to create a feeling of luxury, warmth and luxury in your lounge? Bespoke curtains made from prestigious textiles will provide the room with a sense of appeal. A wide variety of prestigious textiles are available and they can be used to cleverly coordinate with your room's decor.

Mix and match cushions made from prestigious textiles

Not only can you pick prestigious textiles to create stunning sets of curtains, it's also possible to have matching cushions made from the same material. Enhance the look of your sofa with a set of curtains that have been made using prestigious textiles. Love the look of your curtains? Why not continue the theme in other areas of the room by ordering cushions that are made from prestigious textiles. Plenty of design options are available from the leading fabric manufacturers so you can afford to give into those creative urges. Use your imagination and pick from the delightful range of prestigious textiles and your fabulous fabric projects can be brought to life in any room that you choose.

Problems picking prestigious textiles

The problem you'll have is trying to pick your favourite design. Choices are amazing and designs are stunning; you might be looking for quite some time. Online ordering does help to simplify the process once you have picked a design from the prestigious textiles range. Will you be ordering made to measure curtains in the future? Look at the stunning selection of prestigious textiles that could be used in the used of creation of your new window accessories. The finest of fabrics can be used to produce curtains for your bedroom, lounge, dining room or any other area where you feel beautiful bespoke curtains would provide style and grace.


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Sanderson Curtain Fabrics

Paint is your passport to colour and arguably the easiest, least costly and most immediate way to transform a home. It can be as simple as brilliant white, but that would exclude all the other drop-dead gorgeous colours. Paradoxically, it's the vast choice that ofte 00004000 n poses a problem - there are just so many brands, types and shades on the market.

Choose from historical hues for period homes; sleek chalky finishes that stand up to the rigours of modern life; or new formulas designed to suit all surfaces. By understanding the product you can unleash all the design possibilities of paint that make it such a tempting medium.

Types of Paint

Water-based paints are usually referred to as emulsions and were traditionally used only for interior walls and ceilings. But recently tremendous advances in paint technology mean that water-based formulas, especially the high-performing acrylics, are available for all surfaces, from woodwork to metal, and for interior and exterior use. The advantages of these paints over oil-based ones is that they are cleaner, have less odour and are more environmentally sound. Brushes can be rinsed clean with water.

Solvent or oil-based paints are used where a tough, durable finish is required for interior and exterior timber, masonry and furniture - although, as mentioned above, the new generation of acrylics and multi-surface paints offers viable alternatives. In general, brushes need to be cleaned with turpentine or white spirit.

Make-up and quality All paints are made of four key ingredients: pigments, binders, liquids and additives. Generally speaking, the more pigment used to make the paint, the better the quality it will be: a ratio of 30 to 45 per cent binder and pigments by volume indicates a paint that will be durable and provide good coverage and lasting colour. Consider the following when you are faced with a wall of paint pots and are struggling with what to buy.

Pick a brand you can trust Companies with their own high-street shops, such as Fired Earth and Farrow & Ball, and those that sell through the DIY giants are the most accessible. However, buying paint online is increasingly popular and can bring you a wider choice, especially if you live outside major towns and cities.

Go for good coverage Look at the figures per litre not for the whole can; 12sq m per litre is average. Coverability varies between brands, making the difference between needing two or three coats. You will generally find more pigment in premium paints, giving a greater depth of colour.

Select the right product. There is a dedicated paint for practically every surface, including tiles and appliances, such as fridges. For high-traffic areas consider scuff-resistant multi-surface paints that can be used on both wood and walls. Kitchens and bathrooms benefit from specialist formulas designed to cope with humidity without flaking.

Try before you buy Colour cards are fine for making an initial selection but you will want to see a true paint sample in situ before committing. Tester pots vary in price from 1 to 4. Paint onto a sheet of paper that you can move around the room to enable you to see the colour in different light conditions. The effect varies greatly. The window wall can seem dark while the wall opposite will be flooded with light. And of course there is a dramatic difference between natural and artificial light. Finally paint a patch directly onto the wall to gauge the colour, coverage and the final finish.

Specialist wall, floor and furniture paints

These days, there are paints to decorate every surface in the home, from melamine to ceramic tiles. Many of these formulas require no specialist preparation - Crown's Cupboard Makeover Paint is available in 12 colours and does not need a primer.

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Sanderson Curtain Fabric

I love the 1950s Modernist revival. Lucienne Day fabrics, Danish furniture, muted autumnal shades. It's not sacharin like the chintzy Cath Kidston st 00004000 yle but it's a lot easier to live with than 1960s space age modernism. I simply can't watch an episode of Mad Men, the hit series that shows us the lives of NY's Ad men in the 1950s and 60s, without drooling over the wonderful interiors. With this in mind I have decided to set about re-designing my own living room to pay homage to this great era. The only problem is that I have a very limited budget and I can't be bothered to redecorate again! Fortunately, it won't be necessary. I already have the perfect blank canvas: hardwood strip flooring soft grey walls and a modern neutral sofa. All I need to do is change a few textiles, add some accessories and wall stickers the look will be achieved without major upheaval.

So, where to start? Ikea! The Stockholm Blad curtains in brown are a perfect fit; autumn leaves are a nod to the textiles of Lucienne Day that are key to this look. At only 59 a pair these are a real bargain. So down with the modern blinds and up go the fabulous 50s inspired fabric. They also stock a lovely easy chair in the same fabric but at 229 I'm going to have to add this at a later date.

Time to add a bit of the real thing. A good search on eBay and I sourced a teak sideboard and a 1950s desk lamp. I also found some studio pottery from the era that I really love. All for under 400 - amazing! Besides, I was dying to get rid of the boring white gloss storage unit that they have replaced.

I have been eying up Sanderson's Dandelion Clock wallpaper for ages. I chose the Chaffinch colour option which is bold blue-green and yellow - very 50s retro. Instead of wallpapering a whole wall I decided to make some "Art". Using different sized art frames I simply stapled the wallpaper around the frames and hung them on the wall. Very effective! I then found some matching cushions which tie the look together.

Finally I felt it was still looking a bit bland so I decided to add a modern twist in the form of wall stickers. Some beautiful Trees with Falling Leaves in Grey with Lime green birds gave the room a real wow factor. They were so easy to apply and at such a reasonable price I was really pleased with the huge impact they made. My new living room looks like a set from Mad Men, there was no hard work involved and all this for well under my 700 budget. A huge success!


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Door Curtain Rail

If you have a limited budget, then purchasing a rod iron railing for your stairways and/or balconies can be an affordable option. A rod railing is one as decorative as most other models but can still be good looking and compliment your home's decor if you choose the right one. Prices vary depending on where you purchase the railing and how many linear feet you need the railing to be.

You can purchase an iron railing custom made or buy it ready made; there are advantages and disadvantages to both. By purchasing a custom-made railing, you ensure that you are getting exactly what you want. You can choose exactly how you want the railing to look and what kind of finish you want it to have. However, purchasing a custom-made iron railing can be quite expensive. Purchasing a ready-made one is a lot cheaper, and since there are a good number of companies that make iron railings, it should not be hard to find one that suits your needs.

One company that offers a wide selection of custom-made iron railings is Karel's Wrought Iron. If you want to get an idea of what styles they offer, then have a look at their photo gallery at www.karelswroughtiron.com. If you were not sure what exact style of rod iron railing would be the best option for your home, then seeing photos of the different styles available can help you to get a better idea of what the options are? Nearly all the rod iron railings on this site are made entirely from iron, although some do have a wooden handrail at the top of the railing.

You can purchase ready-made rod iron railings at a good price at various stores or internet retailers. Do It Best's online retail sites offer a 4' Plus Iron Railing for ; the railing is the highest quality and heaviest railing in their selection. While this railing can also be found at their regular stores, it may cost a bit more than it does online. Other options selling on this site include a 6' Windsor Plus Railing selling for and a 4' Windsor Railing selling for . Unlike many other online retail sites, Do It Best offers free shipping on all its railings.

If you are looking for a rod iron railing that is antique and traditional in style, then you may want to consider purchasing a used iron railing. One option is the Cast Iron Railing selling at Bonanzle.com for 0. Another good site to check for used antique style rod iron railings is www.oldegoodthings.com. Many of their railings are salvaged and may need a bit of work before they can be used, but if you have experience and aptitude in carpentry work, you may find one of these railings to be just what will enhance the beauty and decor of your home.


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Corded Curtain Poles

Family dome tents have grown increasingly popular for family camping, and you get them in many different sizes. But is such a tent really the right choice for you? Let's take a look at the different types of family dome tents, and especially at the strengths and weaknesses of this camping tent design.

Family dome tents styles

  • Classic geodesic dome
  • Half dome or tunnel tent

The classic dome tent shows a simple dome shape. There are also larger family dome tents that are made up out of several domes. Both are great for family camping which involves spending the whole time at one place, since they are larger and offer more space. Half dome or tunnel tents, on the other hand, are very good for backpacking. By reducing the dome size, they cut down on weight and produce a smaller pack size, which makes them more convenient to carry.

Main strengths of family dome tents

  • Large floor space - This gives you a large sleeping area and sufficient space for your luggage.
  • Highly sturdy in extreme weather - Instead of a static frame, stability is reached through all tent components working together, with poles made of flexible materials like carbon fibre. The low, round shape of family dome tents lets them easily shed rain and snow, and makes them very wind resistant.
  • Lighter than cabin tents of the same size - This is mainly due to the absence of a heavy tent frame.
  • Easy setup - Family dome tents often use shock-corded poles. These easily unfold to full length, and a color coding shows you where each pole must go.
  • Free-standing - Most family dome tents can be set up on any level surface, for example your backyard. However, the rain fly does need staking. Also, it's generally advised that you do stake your tent down, just in case strong winds come up.

Weaknesses of family dome tents

  • Less usable space - Family dome tents offer less space for camping furniture than equally sized cabin tents. Large items can only be set up in the center part.
  • Less freedom to move - Due to the dome shape, head space is often a problem. Whilst larger dome tents might allow you to stand fairly straight in the center (if you are not very tall), the smaller sized ones allow you only to sit up and make you crawl rather instead of walk. Half dome or tunnel tents might not even allow a tall person to sit up straight.

These considerations clearly show you what family dome tents are good for, and when you should rather not pick them. Classic family dome tents are a great choice for camping vacations that are likely to face heavy weather conditions, especially strong wind, but will find you most of your time outside. Half dome or tunnel tents are excellent options for backpacking or other types of travel-camping. In general, family dome tents are rather for people who can do with less space and comfort, whilst those travelling with half their household, or expecting to spend much time inside the tent, should rather opt for a cabin tent.


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French Lace Curtains

Various types of Industrial and Domestic Tarpaulin materials
Curtains and Tarpaulin materials - both Industrial and Domestic can be made from varying thicknesses of fabric, each with a differing degree of light absorption and heat insulating qualities. For maximum temperature control, the curtain gap to the window or Door opening should be small, with minimum convection drafts below or above the curtain.
A lightweight net curtain is one that is made from translucent fabric, such as a loosely woven polyester voile or a cotton lace. Sheer curtains allow a majorit 00004000 y of light to be transmitted through the fabric, with the fabric weave providing a basic level of UV protection while retaining maximum visibility through the curtain. Sheer curtains are sometimes referred to as privacy curtains in reference to their screening abilities; during the day most sheer fabrics will allow people inside the home to see the outside view whilst preventing people outside the home from seeing directly into the home. Due to the loose weave of these fabrics, these types of curtains offer very little in the way of heat insulation.
Uncoated fabrics provide the next level of heat insulation and light absorption. Uncoated fabrics constitute the vast majority of fabrics used in curtains, and are composed of a tightly woven fabric, most typically a cotton/polyester blend, which is mostly opaque when viewed in ambient light. Uncoated fabrics, such as Ripstop Canvas provide a reasonable level of heat insulation due to the tight weave of the fabric, however the fabric itself is typically not thick enough to completely absorb strong light sources. As a result, when curtains made from uncoated fabrics are closed in an attempt to block out direct sunlight, light may still be visible through the curtain.
Coated fabrics consist of a standard uncoated fabric with an opaque rubber or PVC backing applied to the rear of the fabric to provide improved light absorption. To create a coated fabric a liquefied rubber polymer or PVC coating is applied in a single coat to an uncoated fabric and subsequently fused dry by means of a heated roller, in much the same way that a laser printer applies toner to a sheet of paper before fusing it dry. A fabric that has been through the coating process once is considered a 1 pass coated fabric, anecdotally referred to as dim-out or blackout because of the fabric's ability to absorb approximately 50-70% of a direct light source. To improve the light absorption of a fabric it is possible to re-coat a fabric up to a maximum of 3 pass coated, which is considered sufficient to block out 100% of a direct light source, hence such fabrics are referred to as blockout coated.
Maximum light absorption and heat insulation in a curtain is created through a lined curtain, which typically consists of an uncoated fabric at the front to provide the look and feel of the curtain, with a separate coated fabric attached at the rear to provide the insulating qualities. The coated fabric is typically referred to as a lining, which simply refers to a coated fabric that does not have any particular color or pattern.
Fire Retardant Materials
Materials used in these curtains have a Flame or Fire retardant chemical added to the coating material during processing.
These chemicals are most often referred to as Brominated flame retardants (BFRs) organobromide compounds that have an inhibitory effect on the ignition of combustible organic materials. Of the commercialized chemical flame retardants, the brominated variety are most widely used. They are very effective in plastics and textile applications, e.g. electronics, clothes and furniture. BFRs are commonly used in electronic products as a means of reducing the flammability of the product.
www.canvas-tarps.co.uk

Frequently Asked Questions

  1. QUESTION:
    *Bedroom carpet is a mauve pink - help me choose a color to paint the walls and decide my curtains!*?
    First off, the carpet cannot be changed. Secondly, right now the walls are stark white and I'm not feeling it. Third, when I say mauve pink let me remind you it is not baby girl pink, nor is it barbie hot pink. Fourth, my room is real small. (I'd give measurements but I'm not there right now. But trust me, it's small.) It is also square-not rectangular or odd shaped. The ceiling is flat.
    I also have three sets of curtains I can choose from. (The room only has one window.) I can put up solid mauve pink with cream white lace accent w/ matching valance; a sheer white lace curtain with floral design; or a sheer material with an all over rose design that looks like watercolors in various shades of pink.
    As you can tell, I'm a feminine decorator. I am 19 years old. I like vintage things. I love roses! I love the whole vintage shabby chic look, french boudoir, victorian, or chic beach cottage look.
    Feel free to add other suggestions!!!!! I love decorating!

    • ANSWER:
      you could paint the walls some sort of off-white or cream color, but if you aren't into playing it so safe, light grey would be nice. Or you could find out what shade of green best compliments mauve pink if you want to paint the walls green, or blue would be nice and bold.

      I think I would go with light grey walls and the rose print curtain. Beautiful white curtain rods would be a nice accent, as would accent pillows that match the curtain and accompany your theme.

  2. QUESTION:
    i would like to create a parisian theme room any ideas or links, UK websites please!?
    at the moment my bedroom has one turquoise wall, and two white walls, i have another wall that has pictures from magazines stuck all over it. My bed is double and has a debra pattern. I have black lace curtains, i have always been obsessed by the eiffel tower and france and the french lanuage if anyone knows of any good websites that are UK only, please help me!!!!!

    • ANSWER:
      This site looks good. Hope all goes well.

  3. QUESTION:
    Are you a neat house keeper?
    My house is our home, but although I like it clean and neat it does get cluttered more now than ever before. Why is that? My children are grown and live far away, so how is it I seem to keep it in such a mess? Hubby is no help except he will bring his laundry to the pantry to be washed. The living room and kitchen are kept clean and neat, even the visitors bath. That is because company can see these rooms. But the dining room and bedrooms are messy, newspapers, mags. books, everywhere. The dining room has clutter all over the table but I close the french doors (they have lace curtains) so folks won't see. I don't know If I have become lazy or just too tired to worry with it. We just live here, the house takes care of us now. Poppy

    • ANSWER:
      Sounds like you enjoy life more than being a "neat freak" LOL. I keep my bdrm. door closed due to the same reason. No one goes in there except me or the family and I don't care if they see it a mess..It's not filthy or have things growing in it or bugs crawling around, but it's lived in.When I get my very weak spells from the sarcoidosis I do well to make it to the kitchen. I've learned NOT to push myself so much and I feel much better for it.

  4. QUESTION:
    WHAT COLOR WALLs?????????
    my quilt is satin burgundy with beige french lace but i HATE beige walls. i want to go for a luxurious look. i'm 11 so i want it to last through my teen years without me getting bored of it. what color walls? ceiling? curtains? accessories?

    • ANSWER:
      Hard since you hate beige walls, what about champagne colour? Slightly more gold than beige maybe with a bit of shine? Team that with a deep red feature wall for something more dramatic? Or even cream walls with gold/red detail. As for curtains I'd say deep red velvet or dark wood blinds depending on your preference. Accessories-Vintage mirror and chandelier, matching throw pillows.

      Check out:
      http://mariesmanordecorating.com/french/bohemian-boudoir-moulin-rouge-style.html

  5. QUESTION:
    Will this look okay for a bedroom?
    i have a burgundy satin quilt with some beige french lace on the bottom and on the pillows and my curtains are burgundy. i am painting my room chocolate brown with a beige stripe on top. i was wondering for the ceiling should i paint it chocolate brown or burgundy?? i dont want white! o ya and all of my furniture is a dark brown. i dont really have a feature wall but i'm doing some stuff to make it look unique =P
    or i was thinking about putting a strip of beige fabric on top instead of painting it to give it texture.. wat do u think?

    • ANSWER:
      Hanging fabric from the ceiling will be a dust collector and may cause allergies. I agree that a beige ceiling will work well and if you do not have crown molding I would suggest putting some up and painting it the same color beige. It sounds like an elegant room and the crown molding will really put on a finishing touch. I don't know how old you are, if it's your home or your parents but if it's your home another suggestion would be to check out wwwamericantinceilings.com and consider a decorative copper, brass or gold tin ceiling. It would give a very french look.

  6. QUESTION:
    Hi, I would like some advice about paint colors for my kitchen. It was beige with medium wood tone cabinets?
    It had dark gold countertops and dark gold vinyl floor. I painted the cabinets white, the walls light blue and the floor is done in white with light grey pattern vinyl tile. I haven't got the countertops done yet, but want them to be a light and medium grey speckled kind of color. I have white lace curtains. However, the light blue, while a pretty color, looks more like a bathroom or baby boy's room. I am going to repaint and am considering a couple of colors. 1) kind of pumpkin/terracota color 2) light peach 3) deep cinnabar/red--not bright red but a really rich dark red. The problem with the darker colors (which I am leaning toward) is that there are only two small windows--not much light. Plants die from lack of light, have to use only fake plants, etc. I want an elegant yet softened look (I love black wrought iron, clear heavy glass, candles, brass)--maybe kind of french country, shabby chic or tuscan look. Help???? Thanks for any assistance.
    Thank you all so much--you gave me some interesting ideas. Particularly the idea of yellow and blue--very tuscan/country french. I might try the yellow but maybe not just a plain yellow, maybe a faux finish to look like old plaster with a warm yellow--the blue something like a cobalt or deep cornflower blue? I had actually considered yellow at one time but didn't want to be too "cutesy." Thanks again!

    • ANSWER:
      If you lack of light in the kitchen you want to stay away from any darker colors, it will only make it look smaller and darker, hence depressing! Pale yellow would be beautiful on the walls with the white cabinets and white wood work. You might want to think about adding some crown moldings around the top of your walls, this always adds richness to your home. Along with accents of your black wrought iron such as your candle sticks, wine rack, paper towel holder, or napkin holder. Don't forget your cabinet knobs and drawer pulls. They are jewelry for your cabinets. They have some beautiful black iron ones. Think about a large clear glass container like a ginger jar with lid filled with artificial lemons to place on your counter. A couple of wrought iron baskets filled with greenery will really add color and brighten things up. For your blue think about your place mats or a table runner, towels, pot holders, rugs on the floor, and candles. Also think about blue mats around a couple of nice prints for the wall. You put all this together and you will have a very elegant and classy kitchen. Hope this helps.

  7. QUESTION:
    What is an unusual way of dressing my French Windows?
    They're quite wide in addition to being tall...I have tried simple white voile, lace, plain velvet...but nothing looks right...either it looks to big and heavy or too flimsy...the window/doors look out onto the garden and my husband finds it disconcerting with nothing on them (Which I tried)....what will look good? Colour scheme is red, beige, cream.....the look of the room is ecclectic...a mix of vintage and new....the other window has beautiful original 50s curtains with a rose print..they are of very good quality and so eclipse whatever I put on the big windows...I dont want to get rid of my 50s rose curtains...

    • ANSWER:
      You need to look at tons of photographs to get lots of ideas try this. Go into Google or Yahoo image search. Key in french window dressings, blinds, window coverings or whatever you think best describes the item you're looking for. Voila, you now have thousands of photographs to choose from. Most images link to a website for more information and or links to where you can buy from. Below is an article I found that you might find interesting, good luck!

  8. QUESTION:
    Am I an ok writer? please read the beginning of my story.?
    don't plan on being that good of a writer, but i was just wondering if you think if my book beginning was a good. i'm 12 years old and love to write. next year i'm going in seventh grade. Feel free to write some suggestions and go to this website to read more. Thanks!
    http://www.worthyofpublishing.com/chapte...

    The sun shone through the closed curtains of my new bedroom. How could so much change in one week?
    What felt like forever was now just the beginning of my new life. It had all started when my Mom, Stephanie, fell down with cancer. My Stepfather had kept telling me everything was going to be all right, but even my Mom wasn’t afraid to tell me that it wasn’t.
    Just yesterday I was wearing a black dress, and crying; ruining my mascara as it ran down my cheeks. It had gotten my face all pudgy and big.
    Now I was stuck here with my real father who I hadn’t met until my Mother’s funeral had started.
    His name was Max. He was quite handsome and was only in his thirties. To my mom he was just the man who had gotten her pregnant at seventeen.
    That’s what I wanted to think of him as, but he wasn’t that man anymore. It was a different feeling than what I had felt when I heard about the stories my mom had told me about him.
    He might not be dad now, but he could be my friend sometime. Max wasn’t that bad after all.
    The first time that we looked at each other, our jaws dropped, from how close the resemblances were. He had short dark brown hair, which was the color of milk chocolate. My hair was almost the same color, but just a tint lighter from my mom’s blond hair. His blue eyes twinkled, from the happiness in his eyes. Just like mine did. Except for not right now. Max had the same dimple in his chin. The one where when you smiled you could see it right away. It was like his signature for his face.
    That thought made me laugh. I touched my chin where my dimple showed. But mine was deeper written in my face.
    I rubbed my eyes and got up from the double bed. I could smell fried eggs and bacon being made downstairs while someone hummed with joy. Max was a professional chef, unlike my mom. My mom couldn’t make cereal. I remember always having to make everything for dinner and holidays. It would be a change having a break for once.
    I went to the over sized closet doors and opened the French closet doors.
    I gasped from what I saw. The closet was at least ten yards long and the width was not even imaginable. Row after row was the most fancy clothes that you could think of. Wow, I guess Max wanted me to feel welcome.
    I went to the rail that was closest and grabbed a pair of jeans. I tried to remember this rail would come in handy for school. The new school was going to be hard to get used to. I never fit into anywhere. My mom had tried so much for me to make friends, but it was just not possible.
    I walked down to the far sidewall and looked at every shirt. I picked out one with a v-shaped neckline that was a light gray and with lace at the bottom. Looks like Max had some average clothes too, incase I wasn’t like other girls. I would have to remind myself to thank him later.
    I heard footsteps and a light knock on the door.
    “ May I come in?”
    “ Um, sure,” The door opened and Max smiled, seeing that I had found my way into the big closet.
    “ Hey I thought you might want some breakfast before you go to school. You hungry?” Just then my stomach growled and Max smiled even more.
    “ I guess I wouldn’t mind some breakfast,”
    We walked down to the kitchen together and I took a seat on a stool. The smell of breakfast was overwhelming. Max put a plate full of strawberries, eggs, toast, and bacon in front of me. He started humming and moving around the kitchen.
    I couldn’t help, but to smile at him. “What?” He asked with a wide grin across his face.
    “Nothing. I’m just not used to being with you, that’s all.” He came to my side and put his right arm over my shoulders.
    “ Well, Truce you better get used to this, because this is who I am,” He paused and turned to put his lips right next to my ear, “I’m not used to having a girl in the house so you got to be patient with me,” It was a very soft whisper.
    I knew that this would be so easy to get used to. Why did my mom just let him go like this? This was my father and I knew that there would come a day when I really could call him Dad.
    Max got up and paced to the counter and opened up a cupboard. On the top shelf was a crinkled brown envelope. He took it in his hands and went back to where I was sitting. He handed the envelope and I just stared at his face.
    “What’s this?” I was stunned by the look that Max wore on his face. It was puzzled and just as bit curious as I was. It showed me that he had no clue what that envelope contained.
    “I don’t know. Your Mother sent it to me, knowing that you would come and live with me, but I never opened it. I wanted to wait until you were actually here.”

    • ANSWER:
      Not bad!
      Just some grammar. When you have something in quotes, don't put a space between the word and the quote. So it should be. "Well, Truce you better get used to this . . ." instead of " Well, Truce . . ."
      Some comma mistakes. Also, when you're addressing someone who goes by a family name (Mom, stepfather, etc) it's capital, but when you're saying something with A or THE or YOUR or MY or something like that, it's not captial (ex. "I don't know. Your mother sent it to me, knowing . . ."
      But I like the story.
      Also, in an answer, you said you have published a book, but on your . . . Yahoo channel and up here, apparently not.

  9. QUESTION:
    Do you think i'm an ok writer?
    I don't plan on being that good of a writer, but i was just wondering if you think if my book beginning was a good. i'm 12 years old and love to write. next year i'm going in seventh grade. Feel free to write some suggestions and go to this website to read more. Thanks!
    http://www.worthyofpublishing.com/chapte...

    The sun shone through the closed curtains of my new bedroom. How could so much change in one week?
    What felt like forever was now just the beginning of my new life. It had all started when my Mom, Stephanie, fell down with cancer. My Stepfather had kept telling me everything was going to be all right, but even my Mom wasn’t afraid to tell me that it wasn’t.
    Just yesterday I was wearing a black dress, and crying; ruining my mascara as it ran down my cheeks. It had gotten my face all pudgy and big.
    Now I was stuck here with my real father who I hadn’t met until my Mother’s funeral had started.
    His name was Max. He was quite handsome and was only in his thirties. To my mom he was just the man who had gotten her pregnant at seventeen.
    That’s what I wanted to think of him as, but he wasn’t that man anymore. It was a different feeling than what I had felt when I heard about the stories my mom had told me about him.
    He might not be dad now, but he could be my friend sometime. Max wasn’t that bad after all.
    The first time that we looked at each other, our jaws dropped, from how close the resemblances were. He had short dark brown hair, which was the color of milk chocolate. My hair was almost the same color, but just a tint lighter from my mom’s blond hair. His blue eyes twinkled, from the happiness in his eyes. Just like mine did. Except for not right now. Max had the same dimple in his chin. The one where when you smiled you could see it right away. It was like his signature for his face.
    That thought made me laugh. I touched my chin where my dimple showed. But mine was deeper written in my face.
    I rubbed my eyes and got up from the double bed. I could smell fried eggs and bacon being made downstairs while someone hummed with joy. Max was a professional chef, unlike my mom. My mom couldn’t make cereal. I remember always having to make everything for dinner and holidays. It would be a change having a break for once.
    I went to the over sized closet doors and opened the French closet doors.
    I gasped from what I saw. The closet was at least ten yards long and the width was not even imaginable. Row after row was the most fancy clothes that you could think of. Wow, I guess Max wanted me to feel welcome.
    I went to the rail that was closest and grabbed a pair of jeans. I tried to remember this rail would come in handy for school. The new school was going to be hard to get used to. I never fit into anywhere. My mom had tried so much for me to make friends, but it was just not possible.
    I walked down to the far sidewall and looked at every shirt. I picked out one with a v-shaped neckline that was a light gray and with lace at the bottom. Looks like Max had some average clothes too, incase I wasn’t like other girls. I would have to remind myself to thank him later.
    I heard footsteps and a light knock on the door.
    “ May I come in?”
    “ Um, sure,” The door opened and Max smiled, seeing that I had found my way into the big closet.
    “ Hey I thought you might want some breakfast before you go to school. You hungry?” Just then my stomach growled and Max smiled even more.
    “ I guess I wouldn’t mind some breakfast,”
    We walked down to the kitchen together and I took a seat on a stool. The smell of breakfast was overwhelming. Max put a plate full of strawberries, eggs, toast, and bacon in front of me. He started humming and moving around the kitchen.
    I couldn’t help, but to smile at him. “What?” He asked with a wide grin across his face.
    “Nothing. I’m just not used to being with you, that’s all.” He came to my side and put his right arm over my shoulders.
    “ Well, Truce you better get used to this, because this is who I am,” He paused and turned to put his lips right next to my ear, “I’m not used to having a girl in the house so you got to be patient with me,” It was a very soft whisper.
    I knew that this would be so easy to get used to. Why did my mom just let him go like this? This was my father and I knew that there would come a day when I really could call him Dad.
    Max got up and paced to the counter and opened up a cupboard. On the top shelf was a crinkled brown envelope. He took it in his hands and went back to where I was sitting. He handed the envelope and I just stared at his face.
    “What’s this?” I was stunned by the look that Max wore on his face. It was puzzled and just as bit curious as I was. It showed me that he had no clue what that envelope contained.
    “I don’t know. Your Mother sent it to me, knowing that you would come and live with me, but I never opened it. I wanted to wait until you were actually here.”

    • ANSWER:
      wow this is really good if your only 12! keep up the work cause i want something exciting to happen!
      the only thing i noticed that bugged me was this
      "I went to the over sized closet doors and opened the French closet doors"
      you say closet doors twice, instead say "I went to the over sized French doors and found the closet." or something like that.

  10. QUESTION:
    Do you think I'm an ok writer?I wanted you to tell me what you thought of my rough draft. Thanks!?
    don't plan on being that good of a writer, but i was just wondering if you think if my book beginning was a good. i'm 12 years old and love to write. next year i'm going in seventh grade. Feel free to write some suggestions and go to this website to read more. Thanks!
    http://www.worthyofpublishing.com/chapte...

    The sun shone through the closed curtains of my new bedroom. How could so much change in one week?
    What felt like forever was now just the beginning of my new life. It had all started when my Mom, Stephanie, fell down with cancer. My Stepfather had kept telling me everything was going to be all right, but even my Mom wasn’t afraid to tell me that it wasn’t.
    Just yesterday I was wearing a black dress, and crying; ruining my mascara as it ran down my cheeks. It had gotten my face all pudgy and big.
    Now I was stuck here with my real father who I hadn’t met until my Mother’s funeral had started.
    His name was Max. He was quite handsome and was only in his thirties. To my mom he was just the man who had gotten her pregnant at seventeen.
    That’s what I wanted to think of him as, but he wasn’t that man anymore. It was a different feeling than what I had felt when I heard about the stories my mom had told me about him.
    He might not be dad now, but he could be my friend sometime. Max wasn’t that bad after all.
    The first time that we looked at each other, our jaws dropped, from how close the resemblances were. He had short dark brown hair, which was the color of milk chocolate. My hair was almost the same color, but just a tint lighter from my mom’s blond hair. His blue eyes twinkled, from the happiness in his eyes. Just like mine did. Except for not right now. Max had the same dimple in his chin. The one where when you smiled you could see it right away. It was like his signature for his face.
    That thought made me laugh. I touched my chin where my dimple showed. But mine was deeper written in my face.
    I rubbed my eyes and got up from the double bed. I could smell fried eggs and bacon being made downstairs while someone hummed with joy. Max was a professional chef, unlike my mom. My mom couldn’t make cereal. I remember always having to make everything for dinner and holidays. It would be a change having a break for once.
    I went to the over sized closet doors and opened the French closet doors.
    I gasped from what I saw. The closet was at least ten yards long and the width was not even imaginable. Row after row was the most fancy clothes that you could think of. Wow, I guess Max wanted me to feel welcome.
    I went to the rail that was closest and grabbed a pair of jeans. I tried to remember this rail would come in handy for school. The new school was going to be hard to get used to. I never fit into anywhere. My mom had tried so much for me to make friends, but it was just not possible.
    I walked down to the far sidewall and looked at every shirt. I picked out one with a v-shaped neckline that was a light gray and with lace at the bottom. Looks like Max had some average clothes too, incase I wasn’t like other girls. I would have to remind myself to thank him later.
    I heard footsteps and a light knock on the door.
    “ May I come in?”
    “ Um, sure,” The door opened and Max smiled, seeing that I had found my way into the big closet.
    “ Hey I thought you might want some breakfast before you go to school. You hungry?” Just then my stomach growled and Max smiled even more.
    “ I guess I wouldn’t mind some breakfast,”
    We walked down to the kitchen together and I took a seat on a stool. The smell of breakfast was overwhelming. Max put a plate full of strawberries, eggs, toast, and bacon in front of me. He started humming and moving around the kitchen.
    I couldn’t help, but to smile at him. “What?” He asked with a wide grin across his face.
    “Nothing. I’m just not used to being with you, that’s all.” He came to my side and put his right arm over my shoulders.
    “ Well, Truce you better get used to this, because this is who I am,” He paused and turned to put his lips right next to my ear, “I’m not used to having a girl in the house so you got to be patient with me,” It was a very soft whisper.
    I knew that this would be so easy to get used to. Why did my mom just let him go like this? This was my father and I knew that there would come a day when I really could call him Dad.
    Max got up and paced to the counter and opened up a cupboard. On the top shelf was a crinkled brown envelope. He took it in his hands and went back to where I was sitting. He handed the envelope and I just stared at his face.
    “What’s this?” I was stunned by the look that Max wore on his face. It was puzzled and just as bit curious as I was. It showed me that he had no clue what that envelope contained.
    “I don’t know. Your Mother sent it to me, knowing that you would come and live with me, but I never opened it. I wanted to wait until you were actually here.”
    sorry about my horrible writing when it goes, 'I went to the over sized closet doors and opened the French closet doors.' That was just so horribly written I'll fix it. Besides that, how can I make my writing better?
    try this link instead:
    http://www.worthyofpublishing.com/chapter.asp?chapter_ID=8286
    on the link it skips so you have to read the discription. I only have this chapter on there and not the ones in between so it might not make a lot of sense

    • ANSWER:
      omg...its really really really good...lol i wanted to keep reading it but wen i clicked on the website, it wouldnt go...i really have no suggestions for you cuz its so freaking good...it actually sounds like a real novel...its really good...keep up the good work and good luck...hope u get to publish it one day so i can read it or something...lol i wonder what the conflict is...anyways...good luck :D

  11. QUESTION:
    What do you think of my story? Be as critical as you can for my story. Thanks!?
    don't plan on being that good of a writer, but i was just wondering if you think if my book beginning was a good. i'm 12 years old and love to write. next year i'm going in seventh grade. Feel free to write some suggestions and go to this website to read more. Thanks!
    http://www.worthyofpublishing.com/chapte...

    The sun shone through the closed curtains of my new bedroom. How could so much change in one week?
    What felt like forever was now just the beginning of my new life. It had all started when my Mom, Stephanie, fell down with cancer. My Stepfather had kept telling me everything was going to be all right, but even my Mom wasn’t afraid to tell me that it wasn’t.
    Just yesterday I was wearing a black dress, and crying; ruining my mascara as it ran down my cheeks. It had gotten my face all pudgy and big.
    Now I was stuck here with my real father who I hadn’t met until my Mother’s funeral had started.
    His name was Max. He was quite handsome and was only in his thirties. To my mom he was just the man who had gotten her pregnant at seventeen.
    That’s what I wanted to think of him as, but he wasn’t that man anymore. It was a different feeling than what I had felt when I heard about the stories my mom had told me about him.
    He might not be dad now, but he could be my friend sometime. Max wasn’t that bad after all.
    The first time that we looked at each other, our jaws dropped, from how close the resemblances were. He had short dark brown hair, which was the color of milk chocolate. My hair was almost the same color, but just a tint lighter from my mom’s blond hair. His blue eyes twinkled, from the happiness in his eyes. Just like mine did. Except for not right now. Max had the same dimple in his chin. The one where when you smiled you could see it right away. It was like his signature for his face.
    That thought made me laugh. I touched my chin where my dimple showed. But mine was deeper written in my face.
    I rubbed my eyes and got up from the double bed. I could smell fried eggs and bacon being made downstairs while someone hummed with joy. Max was a professional chef, unlike my mom. My mom couldn’t make cereal. I remember always having to make everything for dinner and holidays. It would be a change having a break for once.
    I went to the over sized closet doors and opened the French closet doors.
    I gasped from what I saw. The closet was at least ten yards long and the width was not even imaginable. Row after row was the most fancy clothes that you could think of. Wow, I guess Max wanted me to feel welcome.
    I went to the rail that was closest and grabbed a pair of jeans. I tried to remember this rail would come in handy for school. The new school was going to be hard to get used to. I never fit into anywhere. My mom had tried so much for me to make friends, but it was just not possible.
    I walked down to the far sidewall and looked at every shirt. I picked out one with a v-shaped neckline that was a light gray and with lace at the bottom. Looks like Max had some average clothes too, incase I wasn’t like other girls. I would have to remind myself to thank him later.
    I heard footsteps and a light knock on the door.
    “ May I come in?”
    “ Um, sure,” The door opened and Max smiled, seeing that I had found my way into the big closet.
    “ Hey I thought you might want some breakfast before you go to school. You hungry?” Just then my stomach growled and Max smiled even more.
    “ I guess I wouldn’t mind some breakfast,”
    We walked down to the kitchen together and I took a seat on a stool. The smell of breakfast was overwhelming. Max put a plate full of strawberries, eggs, toast, and bacon in front of me. He started humming and moving around the kitchen.
    I couldn’t help, but to smile at him. “What?” He asked with a wide grin across his face.
    “Nothing. I’m just not used to being with you, that’s all.” He came to my side and put his right arm over my shoulders.
    “ Well, Truce you better get used to this, because this is who I am,” He paused and turned to put his lips right next to my ear, “I’m not used to having a girl in the house so you got to be patient with me,” It was a very soft whisper.
    I knew that this would be so easy to get used to. Why did my mom just let him go like this? This was my father and I knew that there would come a day when I really could call him Dad.
    Max got up and paced to the counter and opened up a cupboard. On the top shelf was a crinkled brown envelope. He took it in his hands and went back to where I was sitting. He handed the envelope and I just stared at his face.
    “What’s this?” I was stunned by the look that Max wore on his face. It was puzzled and just as bit curious as I was. It showed me that he had no clue what that envelope contained.
    “I don’t know. Your Mother sent it to me, knowing that you would come and live with me, but I never opened it. I wanted to wait until you were actually here.”
    12 minutes ago - 4 days left to answer.
    Additional Details

    • ANSWER:
      try using

      http://helpmeedit.webs.com

      they offer free professional feedback

      they're trustworth dw about that

      they gave me a page and a half of excellent feedback

  12. QUESTION:
    Would you consider reading my book if it was in the stores? Please read!?
    Preface

    I stood there in the farm field with him. I gripped his hand even tighter as I heard the march come louder and louder. This was it. It was the place where I was going to die. I looked up to see the same feelings written on his face as mine. As everyone stood silent just waiting, Joel said two words that screamed from his insides since the moment he found out the news, “Just leave,” I stood there silent as he said it, but I couldn’t ignore it. I thought of the last months with him, the time he showed me his real life, how every moment I had with him was the best times of my life, and that’s when I had the confidence to tell him in a whisper, “Never,” Everything changed in the next second and we braced ourselves for the worst, for that’s when we saw the two thousand marchers stop at a dead halt on top of the hill.

    Change

    The sun shone through the closed curtains of my new bedroom. How could so much change in one week?
    What felt like forever was now just the beginning of my new life. It had all started when my Mom, Stephanie, fell down with cancer. My Stepfather had kept telling me everything was going to be all right, but even my Mom wasn’t afraid to tell me that it wasn’t.
    Just yesterday I was wearing a black dress, and crying; ruining my mascara as it ran down my cheeks. It had gotten my face all pudgy and big.
    Now I was stuck here with my real father who I hadn’t met until my Mother’s funeral had started.
    His name was Max. He was quite handsome and was only in his thirties. To my mom he was just the man who had gotten her pregnant at seventeen.
    That’s what I wanted to think of him as, but he wasn’t that man anymore. It was a different feeling than what I had felt when I heard about the stories my mom had told me about him.
    He might not be dad now, but he could be my friend sometime. Max wasn’t that bad after all.
    The first time that we looked at each other, our jaws dropped, from how close the resemblances were. He had short dark brown hair, which was the color of milk chocolate. My hair was almost the same color, but just a tint lighter from my mom’s blond hair. His blue eyes twinkled, from the happiness in his eyes. Just like mine did. Except for not right now. Max had the same dimple in his chin. The one where when you smiled you could see it right away. It was like his signature for his face.
    That thought made me laugh. I touched my chin where my dimple showed. But mine was deeper written in my face.
    I rubbed my eyes and got up from the double bed. I could smell fried eggs and bacon being made downstairs while someone hummed with joy. Max was a professional chef, unlike my mom. My mom couldn’t make cereal. I remember always having to make everything for dinner and holidays. It would be a change having a break for once.
    I went to the over sized closet doors and opened the French closet doors.
    I gasped from what I saw. The closet was at least ten yards long and the width was not even imaginable. Row after row was the most fancy clothes that you could think of. Wow, I guess Max wanted me to feel welcome.
    I went to the rail that was closest and grabbed a pair of jeans. I tried to remember this rail would come in handy for school. The new school was going to be hard to get used to. I never fit into anywhere. My mom had tried so much for me to make friends, but it was just not possible.
    I walked down to the far sidewall and looked at every shirt. I picked out one with a v-shaped neckline that was a light gray and with lace at the bottom. Looks like Max had some average clothes too, incase I wasn’t like other girls. I would have to remind myself to thank him later.
    I heard footsteps and a light knock on the door.
    “ May I come in?”
    “ Um, sure,” The door opened and Max smiled, seeing that I had found my way into the big closet.
    “ Hey I thought you might want some breakfast before you go to school. You hungry?” Just then my stomach growled and Max smiled even more.
    “ I guess I wouldn’t mind some breakfast,”
    We walked down to the kitchen together and I took a seat on a stool. The smell of breakfast was overwhelming. The air was full of the delicious smell of fresh bread, seasonings, and bacon beginning made in a pan. Max put a plate full of strawberries, eggs, toast, and bacon in front of me. He started humming and moving around the kitchen.
    I couldn’t help, but to smile at him. “What?” He asked with a wide grin across his face.
    “Nothing. I’m just not used to being with you, that’s all.” He came to my side and put his right arm over my shoulders.
    “ Well, Lizzy you better get used to this, because this is who I am,” He paused and turned to put his lips right next to my ear, “I’m not used to having a girl in the house so you got to be patient with me,” It was a very soft whisper.
    I knew that this would be so easy to get used to. Why did my mom just let him go like this? This was my father and I k

    • ANSWER:
      The whole preface, with the "This was it, I'm going to die here," is overdone. It also reminded me of the Twilight series. I'm sorry, I know you probably didn't want to hear that, but it did. It may end up being nothing like the series, but your story, especially the preface, had similarities to the series.
      It got me sort of put off right from the start, but I continued to read the rest of it.
      It's decent. Some of your sentences don't flow, some of them confuse me a little bit. Read it out loud while writing and if you catch any of those problems, fix them. You can do that in various ways, by either getting rid of some sentences that aren't necessary, combining sentences, and just moving the words in the sentences around.

      But the question was if I would read this if I found it in stores. Well, I don't know. Usually, when I go to the book store, I read the back of the book and then decide. You only showed us an excerpt here, you didn't tell us what it was about. I can't really judge if I would.
      If you would like to write a summary, and add it on here, I wouldn't mind adding a proper response here too.

  13. QUESTION:
    What do you think of my story? Be as critical as you can for my story.?
    Thanks!?
    don't plan on being that good of a writer, but i was just wondering if you think if my book beginning was a good. i'm 12 years old and love to write. next year i'm going in seventh grade. Feel free to write some suggestions and go to this website to read more. Thanks!
    http://www.worthyofpublishing.com/chapte...

    The sun shone through the closed curtains of my new bedroom. How could so much change in one week?
    What felt like forever was now just the beginning of my new life. It had all started when my Mom, Stephanie, fell down with cancer. My Stepfather had kept telling me everything was going to be all right, but even my Mom wasn’t afraid to tell me that it wasn’t.
    Just yesterday I was wearing a black dress, and crying; ruining my mascara as it ran down my cheeks. It had gotten my face all pudgy and big.
    Now I was stuck here with my real father who I hadn’t met until my Mother’s funeral had started.
    His name was Max. He was quite handsome and was only in his thirties. To my mom he was just the man who had gotten her pregnant at seventeen.
    That’s what I wanted to think of him as, but he wasn’t that man anymore. It was a different feeling than what I had felt when I heard about the stories my mom had told me about him.
    He might not be dad now, but he could be my friend sometime. Max wasn’t that bad after all.
    The first time that we looked at each other, our jaws dropped, from how close the resemblances were. He had short dark brown hair, which was the color of milk chocolate. My hair was almost the same color, but just a tint lighter from my mom’s blond hair. His blue eyes twinkled, from the happiness in his eyes. Just like mine did. Except for not right now. Max had the same dimple in his chin. The one where when you smiled you could see it right away. It was like his signature for his face.
    That thought made me laugh. I touched my chin where my dimple showed. But mine was deeper written in my face.
    I rubbed my eyes and got up from the double bed. I could smell fried eggs and bacon being made downstairs while someone hummed with joy. Max was a professional chef, unlike my mom. My mom couldn’t make cereal. I remember always having to make everything for dinner and holidays. It would be a change having a break for once.
    I went to the over sized closet doors and opened the French closet doors.
    I gasped from what I saw. The closet was at least ten yards long and the width was not even imaginable. Row after row was the most fancy clothes that you could think of. Wow, I guess Max wanted me to feel welcome.
    I went to the rail that was closest and grabbed a pair of jeans. I tried to remember this rail would come in handy for school. The new school was going to be hard to get used to. I never fit into anywhere. My mom had tried so much for me to make friends, but it was just not possible.
    I walked down to the far sidewall and looked at every shirt. I picked out one with a v-shaped neckline that was a light gray and with lace at the bottom. Looks like Max had some average clothes too, incase I wasn’t like other girls. I would have to remind myself to thank him later.
    I heard footsteps and a light knock on the door.
    “ May I come in?”
    “ Um, sure,” The door opened and Max smiled, seeing that I had found my way into the big closet.
    “ Hey I thought you might want some breakfast before you go to school. You hungry?” Just then my stomach growled and Max smiled even more.
    “ I guess I wouldn’t mind some breakfast,”
    We walked down to the kitchen together and I took a seat on a stool. The smell of breakfast was overwhelming. Max put a plate full of strawberries, eggs, toast, and bacon in front of me. He started humming and moving around the kitchen.
    I couldn’t help, but to smile at him. “What?” He asked with a wide grin across his face.
    “Nothing. I’m just not used to being with you, that’s all.” He came to my side and put his right arm over my shoulders.
    “ Well, Truce you better get used to this, because this is who I am,” He paused and turned to put his lips right next to my ear, “I’m not used to having a girl in the house so you got to be patient with me,” It was a very soft whisper.
    I knew that this would be so easy to get used to. Why did my mom just let him go like this? This was my father and I knew that there would come a day when I really could call him Dad.
    Max got up and paced to the counter and opened up a cupboard. On the top shelf was a crinkled brown envelope. He took it in his hands and went back to where I was sitting. He handed the envelope and I just stared at his face.
    “What’s this?” I was stunned by the look that Max wore on his face. It was puzzled and just as bit curious as I was. It showed me that he had no clue what that envelope contained.
    “I don’t know. Your Mother sent it to me, knowing that you would come and live with me, but I never opened it. I wanted to wait until you were actually here.”

    • ANSWER:
      One of the most useful pieces of advice my creative writing teacher ever gave me was "show, don't tell". If you can find a way of expressing your characters' emotions through tangible descriptions and actions instead of simply saying what they're thinking or feeling, it will make your writing so much stronger. As the person before me said, watch out for things like repetition- for example "He had short dark brown hair, which was the color of milk chocolate" is redundant. Overall it's a nice piece, especially for someone so young :]

  14. QUESTION:
    Opinion on the beginning of my story about a teenage stripper?
    PRETTY ON THE INSIDE

    I was aware of my underwear being slightly dirty and slightly too loose. I wondered if I could pin it discreetly in the back to keep it up and if it would look weird. I was self conscious of the pink and white patterns, patches of feminine polka dots, plaid, and stripes, that loosely patched together to form this lingerie. No. Not lingerie. Lingerie was a word too sophisticated for what I was wearing. It implied beautiful, sexy girls in lace, who could speak French and kiss well. Long legs and lipstick. I, on the other hand, speak a half-assed Spanish and and am slightly stubby. I have had few boyfriends and lipstick only adds attention to my yellow teeth. I was not wearing any lingerie. No. The patterns that loomed and wove themselves self between my legs instead brought another word to mind. Panties. Panties evoked images of sluts who strip to pay rent and sleep with married men. And I was, indead, wearing panties. They were too thin in some places, too thick in others. Worn from wear. They looked childish, girly, young on my adolescent legs. Vulnerable. I wondered how many people were paying to see me to look exactly like that. Creeps in the audience, disgusted and pleased at the same time to the pleasant surprise of their own b0ner to a teenager. A virtual child. I might have hated my job, but I was can't deny that I'm good at it. I felt my panties sag in the back and pulled them up a bit, my shaky fingers slipping on the silky fabric, struggling to make them stay in the desired position. Not sagging around my @ss, high on my hips. My mom bought them for me about a year and a half ago, expecting them to only be worn under jeans, only to be worn when my cuter underwear was in the wash. She never intended it to be worn like this. But here I was. In panties. Behind the curtain, a small veil shielding me from perverts, distancing me only feet away from their penises and grime. I was so many worlds closer to them then I wanted to be. The curtain was lifted, and I was greeted with yells and bright light. Slut. Whore. Strip. The abuse was my applause. It meant I was doing it right. I shook my skinny, teenage hips a little and tried to vacate my mind, lend it to their vacuum souls. My panties came off with a smile.

    • ANSWER:
      That was a bit disturbing to read, but you're a really good writer. I think that you should keep writing :)
      xx

  15. QUESTION:
    Can you give me some advice on my short introduction to a story about teenage prostitution?
    Introduction:
    My underwear was too dirty and too loose. I wondered if I could pin it discreetly in the back to keep it up and if that would look weird. I was self conscious of the pink and white patterns, patches of feminine polka dots, plaid, and stripes, that loosely patched together to form this lingerie. No. Not lingerie. Lingerie was a word too sophisticated for what I was wearing. It implied beautiful, sexy girls in lace, who could speak French and kiss well. Long legs and lipstick. I, on the other hand, speak a half-assed Spanish and and am stubby. I've had few boyfriends and lipstick only adds attention to my yellow teeth. I was not wearing any lingerie. No. The patterns that loomed and wove themselves self between my legs instead lent another word. Panties. Sluts who strip to pay rent and sleep with married men wear panties, not lingerie, but panties. And I was, indeed, wearing panties, somehow on same level of the strippers and seductresses.
    The fabric was too thin in some places, too thick in others, the colors fading. The white tinged with pink from the time I accidently washed them with the colors instead of whites. That time now seemed like ages ago. They looked childish, girly, young on my adolescent legs. Vulnerable. I wondered how many people were paying to see me to look exactly like that. I imagined creeps in the audience, both disgusted and pleased at the same time to their own b0ner for the ugly teenager. A virtual child.
    I might have hated my job, but I can't deny that it's what I'm good at. My panties started to sag in the back and pulled them up a bit, my shaky fingers slipping on the silky fabric, struggling to make them stay in the desired position: not sagging around my @ss, high on my hips. My mom bought them for me about a year and a half ago, expecting them to only be worn under jeans and tights, only to be worn when my cuter underwear was in the wash. She never intended them to, obviously, be worn like this. But here I was. In panties. Behind the curtain, soon to be lifted, a small veil shielding me from the perverts on the other side. It distanced me only feet away from the creeps' ready penises and repellent grime. I was so many worlds closer to them then I wanted to be. My audience was made up of people I'd naturally avoid on the street. The kind of people who would never have to be left by their wives, because no one would marry them in the first place.The curtain was lifted, and I was greeted with yells and bright lights. I heard the usual. Slut. Whore. Strip. Choke. Grind. Btich. The abuse was my applause. It meant I was doing it right. It was flung at me and I had no choice but to accept it gladly. I shook my skinny, awkward hips a little and they gave me approval. Fukcnig Harpy. Take off your bra. More. I tried to vacate my mind, lend it to their vacuum souls, lend it to the glitter pole and false glamour of the moment. My panties came off with a smile.

    • ANSWER:
      there is no advice i can give you.to me it seems perfect.this i really liked.good luck on your book.

  16. QUESTION:
    Please read...feedback needed!! :) Abstract Short Stories?
    Blind

    Turning and spinning so fast, the wheels on my bike looked blurred and distorted spinning out of control but the rubber gripped the road so firmly I felt safe for a while, I might dismantle this bloody bike when I get home, put him on his head, unscrew his bolts that hold him firmly together, piece by piece I will dissect his anatomy until beside me on the drive he will lye in segments of metal bars, long screws, short screws, bolts, buckles rubber and rust. I decided to take a walk instead, possibly not instead but for now a walk it is. I find it quite odd at this time of night, the thick cold air with its mist drawing patterns in the nothingness, distorted clouds swim almost unnoticed high above, I find it odd why people choose to lock their doors, swoosh shut their curtains resigning to their beloved sofa trapping their minds with modern times and it’s twisted agenda, does this mean they now have twisted agendas to?

    The day

    Small stones crept up between my toes as I pushed one foot in front of the other, walking with haste and trepidation I noticed the landmark, the landmark I put on the map of directions to my past. The air was warm but it held a steady breeze which on occasion disturbed my memories. I slipped off my shoes, tied the laces together and hung them round my neck. The water tickled my toes, I liked it, so I sat down in the exact spot I had that day, allowing the water to work its way up my calf. In the distance I can see hair floating, the not quite “normal” looking pinkish mass bobbing for attention, I ran, swam scooped the mass up on my back and with one arm swam back to the spot I had been sat in not 5 minutes ago, warming my flesh under the hot summer sun. I tried I said to myself, I tried….But the flesh didn’t warm, the signs did not come, the hair dried under the suns intense heat and I remember thinking……. So this is what its like! I no longer fear for my day which is the oddest thing, as I still fear for theirs.

    Berwick Street

    I do not remember her name, why I am not sure, I mean it is not as though she was unmemorable damn its frustrating, I am sure it was Zara. She walked with confidence and a look of awe on her face, I thought to myself at the time, what a strange girl but I liked her none the less, she had gumption. The corner of Berwick street was so busy that I really did not want to sit outside so we went inside instead, the girl behind the bar was tall with long blond hair, big tits that I fantasised about while watching her serve the weary tourists. As I walked up to the bar she saw me coming, I smiled, she smiled back, we locked eye contact until I reached the stable door whereupon she lowered her gaze and giggled girlishly, I returned the nervous gesture. My mind worked slowly as my words ran fast from my mouth, “I think I fancy you and I also think you fancy me, do you want a drink later…with me?” “yes I would like that, here, take my number and call me after ten”. I took the number and walked back to the corner table, Zara was smiling but I was not, I don’t show satisfaction, it is such a Karma alerting trait. I walked outside, Zara followed, we sat quite happily on a bench situated on the corner of Berwick street. I smelt his French cologne before I saw him, I watched him cross the road enter the chip shop and take a small box from his left jacket pocket which he lifted over the counter and handed to the girl….drugs I thought. I didn’t phone the girl from behind the bar, I often think of her for the simple reason, she was the first girl I had asked out on a date, always thought to myself, what an attractive girl, shame she is Australian

    Many thanks....All feedback greatly appreciated be it good, bad or indifferent :) x

    • ANSWER:
      it is good

  17. QUESTION:
    Abstract Short Stories.?
    Blind

    Turning and spinning so fast, the wheels on my bike looked blurred and distorted spinning out of control but the rubber gripped the road so firmly I felt safe for a while, I might dismantle this bloody bike when I get home, put him on his head, unscrew his bolts that hold him firmly together, piece by piece I will dissect his anatomy until beside me on the drive he will lye in segments of metal bars, long screws, short screws, bolts, buckles rubber and rust. I decided to take a walk instead, possibly not instead but for now a walk it is. I find it quite odd at this time of night, the thick cold air with its mist drawing patterns in the nothingness, distorted clouds swim almost unnoticed high above, I find it odd why people choose to lock their doors, swoosh shut their curtains resigning to their beloved sofa trapping their minds with modern times and it’s twisted agenda, does this mean they now have twisted agendas to?

    The day

    Small stones crept up between my toes as I pushed one foot in front of the other, walking with haste and trepidation I noticed the landmark, the landmark I put on the map of directions to my past. The air was warm but it held a steady breeze which on occasion disturbed my memories. I slipped off my shoes, tied the laces together and hung them round my neck. The water tickled my toes, I liked it, so I sat down in the exact spot I had that day, allowing the water to work its way up my calf. In the distance I can see hair floating, the not quite “normal” looking pinkish mass bobbing for attention, I ran, swam scooped the mass up on my back and with one arm swam back to the spot I had been sat in not 5 minutes ago, warming my flesh under the hot summer sun. I tried I said to myself, I tried….But the flesh didn’t warm, the signs did not come, the hair dried under the suns intense heat and I remember thinking……. So this is what its like! I no longer fear for my day which is the oddest thing, as I still fear for theirs.

    Berwick Street

    I do not remember her name, why I am not sure, I mean it is not as though she was unmemorable damn its frustrating, I am sure it was Zara. She walked with confidence and a look of awe on her face, I thought to myself at the time, what a strange girl but I liked her none the less, she had gumption. The corner of Berwick street was so busy that I really did not want to sit outside so we went inside instead, the girl behind the bar was tall with long blond hair, big tits that I fantasised about while watching her serve the weary tourists. As I walked up to the bar she saw me coming, I smiled, she smiled back, we locked eye contact until I reached the stable door whereupon she lowered her gaze and giggled girlishly, I returned the nervous gesture. My mind worked slowly as my words ran fast from my mouth, “I think I fancy you and I also think you fancy me, do you want a drink later…with me?” “yes I would like that, here, take my number and call me after ten”. I took the number and walked back to the corner table, Zara was smiling but I was not, I don’t show satisfaction, it is such a Karma alerting trait. I walked outside, Zara followed, we sat quite happily on a bench situated on the corner of Berwick street. I smelt his French cologne before I saw him, I watched him cross the road enter the chip shop and take a small box from his left jacket pocket which he lifted over the counter and handed to the girl….drugs I thought. I didn’t phone the girl from behind the bar, I often think of her for the simple reason, she was the first girl I had asked out on a date, always thought to myself, what an attractive girl, shame she is Australian
    I would appreciate any opinions, good bad or indifferent
    Many thanks :) x
    Thankyou for the lovely opinions xx

    • ANSWER:
      Its actually more like prose.
      Its really good though, I prefer personally the first two parts. Very impressionistic. (Or however it's spelt)

  18. QUESTION:
    Do you think i'm an ok writer?
    I don't plan on being that good of a writer, but i was just wondering if you think if my book beginning was a good. i'm 12 years old and love to write. next year i'm going in seventh grade. Feel free to write some suggestions and go to this website to read more. Thanks!
    http://www.worthyofpublishing.com/chapter.asp?chapter_ID=8286

    The sun shone through the closed curtains of my new bedroom. How could so much change in one week?
    What felt like forever was now just the beginning of my new life. It had all started when my Mom, Stephanie, fell down with cancer. My Stepfather had kept telling me everything was going to be all right, but even my Mom wasn’t afraid to tell me that it wasn’t.
    Just yesterday I was wearing a black dress, and crying; ruining my mascara as it ran down my cheeks. It had gotten my face all pudgy and big.
    Now I was stuck here with my real father who I hadn’t met until my Mother’s funeral had started.
    His name was Max. He was quite handsome and was only in his thirties. To my mom he was just the man who had gotten her pregnant at seventeen.
    That’s what I wanted to think of him as, but he wasn’t that man anymore. It was a different feeling than what I had felt when I heard about the stories my mom had told me about him.
    He might not be dad now, but he could be my friend sometime. Max wasn’t that bad after all.
    The first time that we looked at each other, our jaws dropped, from how close the resemblances were. He had short dark brown hair, which was the color of milk chocolate. My hair was almost the same color, but just a tint lighter from my mom’s blond hair. His blue eyes twinkled, from the happiness in his eyes. Just like mine did. Except for not right now. Max had the same dimple in his chin. The one where when you smiled you could see it right away. It was like his signature for his face.
    That thought made me laugh. I touched my chin where my dimple showed. But mine was deeper written in my face.
    I rubbed my eyes and got up from the double bed. I could smell fried eggs and bacon being made downstairs while someone hummed with joy. Max was a professional chef, unlike my mom. My mom couldn’t make cereal. I remember always having to make everything for dinner and holidays. It would be a change having a break for once.
    I went to the over sized closet doors and opened the French closet doors.
    I gasped from what I saw. The closet was at least ten yards long and the width was not even imaginable. Row after row was the most fancy clothes that you could think of. Wow, I guess Max wanted me to feel welcome.
    I went to the rail that was closest and grabbed a pair of jeans. I tried to remember this rail would come in handy for school. The new school was going to be hard to get used to. I never fit into anywhere. My mom had tried so much for me to make friends, but it was just not possible.
    I walked down to the far sidewall and looked at every shirt. I picked out one with a v-shaped neckline that was a light gray and with lace at the bottom. Looks like Max had some average clothes too, incase I wasn’t like other girls. I would have to remind myself to thank him later.
    I heard footsteps and a light knock on the door.
    “ May I come in?”
    “ Um, sure,” The door opened and Max smiled, seeing that I had found my way into the big closet.
    “ Hey I thought you might want some breakfast before you go to school. You hungry?” Just then my stomach growled and Max smiled even more.
    “ I guess I wouldn’t mind some breakfast,”
    We walked down to the kitchen together and I took a seat on a stool. The smell of breakfast was overwhelming. Max put a plate full of strawberries, eggs, toast, and bacon in front of me. He started humming and moving around the kitchen.
    I couldn’t help, but to smile at him. “What?” He asked with a wide grin across his face.
    “Nothing. I’m just not used to being with you, that’s all.” He came to my side and put his right arm over my shoulders.
    “ Well, Truce you better get used to this, because this is who I am,” He paused and turned to put his lips right next to my ear, “I’m not used to having a girl in the house so you got to be patient with me,” It was a very soft whisper.
    I knew that this would be so easy to get used to. Why did my mom just let him go like this? This was my father and I knew that there would come a day when I really could call him Dad.
    Max got up and paced to the counter and opened up a cupboard. On the top shelf was a crinkled brown envelope. He took it in his hands and went back to where I was sitting. He handed the envelope and I just stared at his face.
    “What’s this?” I was stunned by the look that Max wore on his face. It was puzzled and just as bit curious as I was. It showed me that he had no clue what that envelope contained.
    “I don’t know. Your Mother sent it to me, knowing that you would come and live with me, but I never opened it. I wanted to wait until you were actually here.” I looked down at the enve

    • ANSWER:
      REALLY GOOD! It makes me want to keep reading! It's amazing! Please send me the rest so I can read it! BTW, I am also going to 7th grade and I'm 12 and I love to write! I'll send you some of my stuff too!

  19. QUESTION:
    Opinion on the beginning of my story about a teenage stripper?
    PRETTY ON THE INSIDE

    I was aware of my underwear being slightly dirty and slightly too loose. I wondered if I could pin it discreetly in the back to keep it up and if it would look weird. I was self conscious of the pink and white patterns, patches of feminine polka dots, plaid, and stripes, that loosely patched together to form this lingerie. No. Not lingerie. Lingerie was a word too sophisticated for what I was wearing. It implied beautiful, sexy girls in lace, who could speak French and kiss well. Long legs and lipstick. I, on the other hand, speak a half-assed Spanish and and am slightly stubby. I have had few boyfriends and lipstick only adds attention to my yellow teeth. I was not wearing any lingerie. No. The patterns that loomed and wove themselves self between my legs instead brought another word to mind. Panties. Panties evoked images of sluts who strip to pay rent and sleep with married men. And I was, indead, wearing panties. They were too thin in some places, too thick in others. Worn from wear. They looked childish, girly, young on my adolescent legs. Vulnerable. I wondered how many people were paying to see me to look exactly like that. Creeps in the audience, disgusted and pleased at the same time to the pleasant surprise of their own b0ner to a teenager. A virtual child. I might have hated my job, but I was can't deny that I'm good at it. I felt my panties sag in the back and pulled them up a bit, my shaky fingers slipping on the silky fabric, struggling to make them stay in the desired position. Not sagging around my @ss, high on my hips. My mom bought them for me about a year and a half ago, expecting them to only be worn under jeans, only to be worn when my cuter underwear was in the wash. She never intended it to be worn like this. But here I was. In panties. Behind the curtain, a small veil shielding me from perverts, distancing me only feet away from their penises and grime. I was so many worlds closer to them then I wanted to be. The curtain was lifted, and I was greeted with yells and bright light. Slut. Whore. Strip. The abuse was my applause. It meant I was doing it right. I shook my skinny, teenage hips a little and tried to vacate my mind, lend it to their vacuum souls. My panties came off with a smile.

    • ANSWER:
      Interesting opening that keeps you intrigued enough to continue reading. This story gets confusing due to wording issues. Clean up the typos, misspelled words, grammatical errors & run-on sentences. Good concept, however.

  20. QUESTION:
    Opinion on the beginning of my story about a teenage stripper?
    PRETTY ON THE INSIDE

    I was aware of my underwear being slightly dirty and slightly too loose. I wondered if I could pin it discreetly in the back to keep it up and if it would look weird. I was self conscious of the pink and white patterns, patches of feminine polka dots, plaid, and stripes, that loosely patched together to form this lingerie. No. Not lingerie. Lingerie was a word too sophisticated for what I was wearing. It implied beautiful, sexy girls in lace, who could speak French and kiss well. Long legs and lipstick. I, on the other hand, speak a half-assed Spanish and and am slightly stubby. I have had few boyfriends and lipstick only adds attention to my yellow teeth. I was not wearing any lingerie. No. The patterns that loomed and wove themselves self between my legs instead brought another word to mind. Panties. Panties evoked images of sluts who strip to pay rent and sleep with married men. And I was, indead, wearing panties. They were too thin in some places, too thick in others. Worn from wear. They looked childish, girly, young on my adolescent legs. Vulnerable. I wondered how many people were paying to see me to look exactly like that. Creeps in the audience, disgusted and pleased at the same time to the pleasant surprise of their own b0ner to a teenager. A virtual child. I might have hated my job, but I was can't deny that I'm good at it. I felt my panties sag in the back and pulled them up a bit, my shaky fingers slipping on the silky fabric, struggling to make them stay in the desired position. Not sagging around my @ss, high on my hips. My mom bought them for me about a year and a half ago, expecting them to only be worn under jeans, only to be worn when my cuter underwear was in the wash. She never intended it to be worn like this. But here I was. In panties. Behind the curtain, a small veil shielding me from perverts, distancing me only feet away from their penises and grime. I was so many worlds closer to them then I wanted to be. The curtain was lifted, and I was greeted with yells and bright light. Slut. Whore. Strip. The abuse was my applause. It meant I was doing it right. I shook my skinny, teenage hips a little and tried to vacate my mind, lend it to their vacuum souls. My panties came off with a smile.

    • ANSWER:
      First of all:

      The title is misleading. "Pretty on the Inside" makes me think it's going to be about some fat girl who commits suicide because people make fun of her for being fat, even though she has a great personality and a few great friends. Strippers are generally pretty on the outside, I would think. That's why men are willing to pay for them to dance for them.

      Second, I would say that most stripper-wear is of the leather/ fishnet/polyester/vinyl/lingerie/strange costume variety, and they probably tend to wear full on makeup. A professional stripper wouldn't wear worn and dirty cotton panties on the job...

      Another thing, if this girl is working at a strip joint, they would not have hired her until she was at LEAST 18, probably 21, for fear of being sued. That's not so young that she could really be described as being as childish as you describe her.

      One last suggestion, if this is for real and it matters to you, I would interview some strippers to get their stories (unless you're a kid, in which case, DON'T!!!!) or read some books/ watch some movies about their lives, and figure out why they do it, and put some more of those kinds of motivations into your character's thought process.

      (of course I'm not saying any of this from experience...)


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