You are definitely not alone, haha. I can't say too much about my novel because some people read what I've posted on here, but yes, I am definitely surprised about where my writing has taken me in my book. But the best thing about writing is that you are the one in charge. You get to decide what happens and what doesn't happen, and, if something happened that you're not happy about, you can always go back and change it. Thank Goodness for editing, am I right? ;) I'm definitely going to do loooooooooot's of editing after I'm finished writing my book. 

Well, yeah, I don't often write, but I know what you mean.

http://www.cricketmagkids.com/chatterbox/puddingsplace/node/212426?page=...

I spontaneously wrote a short story about a monster that I drew. This is what my horrible and wonderful mind vomited up.

Also, here's what I was referring to:

Pen seemed to have retired to the wilds of Leila's brain, and did not speak to Leila for several more hours, until she was lying in bed, asleep. Leila! Said Pen, her voice urgent. Come with me!

What is it, Pen? she replied, her voice groggy.

It's your grandmother! Quickly! And with that, Leila was out of bed, dressed, and out the door in a flash. As she raced through the house, panicking, she found her grandmother lying in the living room in a heap. "Grandma!" she said, horrified. "Grandmother!" she said again, and knelt on the floor next to her, and noticed that her eyes were open and staring. She grabbed her wrist and checked for a pulse. Nothing. And her wrist was cold. So cold. She shook her. Nothing. "GRANDMA!" 

She's dead, Leila. Pen said, empathetic. 

"No! No, she can't! She can't leave me! Not after mother and father!"

I'm sorry.

"No! No, you don't-!" her voice broke. "You don't need to be! She's not dead! She's not!!"

I know it's hard-

"SHE'S NOT DEAD!"

Yes, she is. I'm sorry

"She's... Not..." her voice broke again, and a tear rolled down her face. "She's... dead."

Yeah, I-i really am sorry. I know how it feels.

"Of course you don't. You're just a figment of my imagination."

You can think that, if you like, but it won't make it any more true. 

"Well, it is. She would've been right to send us to an asylum."

No-

"Face it, Pen. You're not real. I'm gonna get that straight. You want to say something to me? it better be helpful."

alright, but-

"I'm going to need you though."

Yes-?

"When the first knock on the door sounds tomorrow, you are going to make the others respect me. Understand?"

...Yes...?

"Do you?"

Yes.

"And if you don't do these things, I will find a way to make you get out of my head." she smiled, slightly maniacally. "Or even better, lock you in the depths of my mind, and harness your power for my own."

But-

"Do you remember the guidelines?" Pen was silent, which was answer enough.  "Now, I want you to get working." 

On what?

"Something to make them fear me. Fear me, and respect me, and follow me. I will become the Witch of Thornrose Mansion, and they. Will. Fear. Me.

* * * * * * * *

Leila was woken by a loud rap on the door. She dressed herself in black clothing and a dark grey cloak. She slammed open the door open with a crash, and surprised the girl waiting there, with the sound, her clothing, and the dark gaze in Leila's eyes. She shrank back, but then realized that this was the witchgirl, without any real power, just the ancestry of witches, and straightened, leveling her haughty gaze at Leila. "Where is your grandmother, the real witch, witchgirl?"

"My grandmother died last night, Amy." Leila replied, somehow managing to make the word Amy sound like an insult.

"I'd say I was sorry, but that would be a lie."

"Take that back." said Leila, menacingly. Once again, Amy recoiled, before regaining her courage.

"Why should I?"

"I'll make you regret it."

"How?"

"Like this." Said Leila, as her hand darted out and slapped the side of Amy's face. Amy screamed as her cheek burned. Leila watched coldly as the shape of a snake glowed in red, than white, on Amy's cheek. Amy's scream brought the rest of the town running, all brandishing pitchforks and torches, towards the old, rundown, Thornrose mansion. 

"What have you done to her?" screamed Rose, Amy's mother, who was brandishing a large axe, which Leila promptly swept out of her hands with a bolt of magic, and sliced off her thumb and index fingers. 

"What my grandmother should have done when she was alive." said the-witch-that-was-Leila as she skillfully impaled a farmer on his own pitchfork, shearing his left arm off, then sending out a gust of wind that knocked every last improvised weapon out of every hand. "Taking control of this town."

"What? You can't-!" exclaimed a town chairman, before he was cut off by Leila lifting him into the air by his neck with a superhuman strength. 

"You dare tell me what I can and can't do?" asked Leila, slowly strangling him. He managed to shake his head, and Leila released him. She rose into the air, and around her fingertips there gathered a small storm, a storm that she threw into the air around her, her cloak flying outwards into the wind. "This is what my grandmother was like!" she  shrieked, gesturin to the mansion behind her, "And I will be like this!" at this last word, the storm of magic flew into the air, and into Thornrose mansion. Out of the center grew a tower of grey brick, splinters of wood piercing the ground below her. "This will be my era! AN ERA OF STONE! AN ERA OF MAGIC!" she said, as spittle flew from her mouth. "This will be the age of Leila Thorne, the Witch of Thornrose Manor." she said, and around them, great walls of stone and fire grew from the ground, along with an army of skeletons and ice warriors. Around them, in the heat of Summerblaze, ice and frost covered the ground, turning Starfall City into a place of eternal winter.