Hello, my lovely Creators!
I don’t know about all of you, but I’ve been having a hard time focusing lately. I can’t seem to get my mind to settle down and take in the world around me. Usually, when I write, I listen to music to help me focus. If I want to create something, like one of my stories, I listen to other random music or I’ll be watching a movie or a show and an idea will come to me. However, it hasn’t been easy lately.
To help remedy that, I went through some of my old work. One thing that I came across was a much longer story that I was working on before. It started out as one of my 100-word stories but just grew over time. Little stories that seemed like they stood alone actually started to fit together.
I remember feeling like it was unoriginal. When I was writing it, I was still riding the high of Cassandra Clare’s ‘The Mortal Instruments’ series and the whammy of Karen Marie Moning and her ‘Fever’ series.
It wasn’t as if I was trying to copy their work; I only wanted to allow them to fuel my desire to create something similar because I loved it so much. Either way, it made me wonder how much we use other people’s work to help bring about our creations. While reading through each small piece, it made me want more. It’s kind of like when you are reading a book, and when it comes to an end, you want more. Sometimes if you’re lucky, there will be another book, and then there are other times where you feel cheated at just the one book. It made me want to pick up that project again. I just don’t know if I’m ready to commit to it.
It’s like the one short story that I’ve been holding on to for several years. Initially, I had finished it, but in those years since I completed it, I kept adding to it like a crazy person. So now it’s longer and has parts that aren’t finished, and I can’t seem to rally myself to be satisfied with it and try to publish it. I want to work on other projects, but I can’t seem to make myself let this one go. It was something that I had done for a creative writing class. My teacher shared his thoughts with me saying, “Good God, this story’s powerful. The child’s voice is strong, the dialogue believable, the outcome devastating.” (No, I did not memorize that, it’s written down in his report he put together for me on things to work on. I’m not that crazy… or am I?) He said a few other great and helpful things, which definitely empowered me but I’m just not satisfied with it. I’ve just got to get down to it, and that’s all there is to it. I don’t know how to make myself do it.
I would like to hear from all of you, who inspires you? What work do you admire and incorporate in your creations?
I want to let you lovely people know that I appreciate you taking the time to sit and read about my thoughts and what I’m up to in my little life. It means a lot to me, thank you.
I’ll share two pieces that I did for yall. I hope you enjoy it and I invite you to answer the above questions or comment on my post. Thanks!
Every passing day feels borrowed. Like a life that is not my own. Little things pepper the days to make it resemble a real life except there is always an undertone of reluctance. There is a constant thought if maybe this was a bad idea. An Easter bunny bought and discarded a week later. No matter how cute, how fluffy, that it is a living thing; we all are replaceable and can be taken back at any time without a second thought. I haven’t been returned, but I am sure my days are numbered. It’s only a matter of time.
The next one is part of the larger story I mentioned before.
“This isn’t your fight. You were safe. What were you thinking?” I watched him pace back and forth. He paused in the middle of the room to close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t had a drink in a few hours. The voices must have been getting stronger again. He needed to stop fighting it. When I stopped fighting it didn’t hurt as much. Ignoring them made it worse. How could someone who had been a Keeper for almost a millennia not know something a Scriptra could figure out in a matter of weeks?
100 Words A Story 