Finding inspiration to write is difficult. You think as hard as you can, but can’t get the words that your brain desperately wants to let out. You look so hard to find what you want to write, and you end up leaving the blank page that sits in front of you. Looking for inspiration in itself is difficult. But after thinking about it, you learn that inspiration isn’t something you can find. Inspiration for writing is something that finds you. It may come from a person, a thing, or an event. It can come from anything really. All it takes from you is to be patient. You must take back all of your thoughts that you wasted on finding the inspiration. When you wait, you will find the gift God has given you; the gift to write and share your thoughts and opinions to others. But inspiration for writing doesn’t come quick enough for you, doesn’t it? You stress yourself out instead, making writing harder for you. But that is why you should wait. Someday, the light-bulb that sits in your head will click.
This is a common question I come to every single time I pull up my blog or a Word document so that I can just… you know… write. I usually can write short stories just by looking at something – like a word, phrase, or picture. An idea pops into my head every single time. I then clumsily press my fingers onto the keyboard, throwing the words onto my computer screen. But as I write, I find it harder and harder to keep with the original idea, and eventually I get off course. I lose control of the story and it becomes nothing.
But of course, writing is writing. No matter how stupid it sounds, it comes from my imagination, and crazy can be good at times. But what happens if I want to write something decent? What if I don’t want it to sound stupid or crazy? How do I solve these problems that come to my writing? I know it has nothing to do with Writer’s Block – cause it doesn’t exist. Writer’s Block is just something our minds make up, making us incapable of writing any further. So what should I write? What should I write that can make a difference? Can I write something that can do that?
I am going to make a “series” of blog posts that will pretty much add onto or be related to this one. I need to be more active with my blog, as I haven’t posted much of anything lately.
So, a few weeks ago I decided to join this project on this other blog, http://thepenmenworld.wordpress.com/. The point of it was to make a story; the owner of the blog started off with two sentences, people sent in paragraphs related to the sentences (which was the first two sentences of the paragraph), and people voted on the best paragraph. After the paragraph is chosen, everyone starts to send in paragraphs again, except that they continue the paragraph that won. Round one finished, and I decided to send in a paragraph for round two. Check out this project, it’s interesting! My part of the story is the second paragraph. Hope you guys like it!
I woke up this morning with a strange feeling. I think I had a lucid dream last night or maybe not. I don’t remember everything exactly but I began my normal morning routine still half asleep; take a piss, feed the cat, make coffee and toast. I sat down to partake in my morning coffee ritual when suddenly a cold sweat came over me, the taste of metal… I ran to the toilet and threw up. Except there was something strange… Something metal floating in the bowl… I stood there staring at it, just floating there in the vomit. Trying to remember what I ate. Trying to remember where I was last night, who I was with. Was the dream really just a dream? Then with a quick swoop I grabbed the metal object and rinsed it in the sink. What the hell was it? How’d it get in my body? Then suddenly jolting me out my trance, the phone rang the same time someone urgently starting banging on the door.
I picked up the phone and looked at the contact. Unknown number. The person banged on the door again. A loud voice came out of nowhere, “Police! Come out with your hands in the air where I can see them!” I panicked. What did I do? Should I run or should I stay? The policeman banged on the door again. I picked up my backpack and started going for the back door. Suddenly, the front door was kicked down and then there was footsteps. No time to find out. I grabbed the handle and ran out the back door. A police officer jumped at me but missed by that much. Leaping over the fence, I started running. Running like I never had before. I don’t remember what I did, but I don’t feel like I should stick around to find out. A few seconds later, police sirens filled the air and I still ran. But I never stopped. There were things I didn’t know, or at least thought I didn’t know. I had to find out what was going on.
Hello everyone! First of all, I would like to say that I am sorry for the absence of posting on my blog. I have been a little… busy I guess I could say. I have been studying for finals, which will finish this week, and so will my Freshman year.
Anyway, I am happy to announce that I have created the official Facebook page for my series, The Kriegerin Brotherhood! Individual pages will eventually be created for all of the books and my Trilogy, The Tales of Camellia, but I am not going to worry about that at this moment.
You can like the page at https://www.facebook.com/TheKriegerinBrotherhoodSeries.
Thank you all for reading and keeping up with my writing!
Life is like music
Travels from ear to ear
So that you can hear The beauty of it.
Tells the mind
That you just have to
And as well to be
For when you listen to the music
You learn the music
And there is no more silence
As you have learned the music
You sing with the music
And therefore you know the music
You know what it means to live
This is one of the most powerful pieces of writing I have ever read. And it is only six words! Apparently, Ernest Hemingway and his friends were at a bar, drinking one night. Hemingway, as great of a writer he was (and drunk at that moment), made a bet with his friends. He told them that he could write an entire story in only six words. They laughed at him and told him that it wasn’t possible, but they accepted the bet anyway (probably because they wanted the money). So Hemingway gets a piece of paper, writes down six words, and shows his friends this:
“For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.”
His friends were shocked, and I am pretty sure it was hard not to cry. So Hemingway (I assume) won the bet.
The reason why this is so powerful is because you can read it and imagine an entire backstory in your head. You don’t know exactly what happened, but you can probably make up an idea. Now, I challenge YOU to write your own six word short story. It can be anything. Below is my own “story.”
“The people screamed. Everyone ran away.”