I`m broken. Lost! Ripped between two thoughts. Reader, what do I do? I`m making a short story and there are just way too many ideas in the world!
I remember a time when I would have been horrified at any death or bitter-sweet ending in a story. My taste has since then taken a dramatic change. I still mourn their deaths, but now I understand writers who tend to kill off characters– it`s really what happened to the people even though they may be fictional. I relish the control I have over my characters; that`s part of the power of writing. I could make all my characters die in a violent hurricane in the middle of Kansas if I wanted to. I write as a way of letting imagination come out of a pen and not be strange.
You can make anything by writing.
I write as a way of exploring something electric.
Pens are lovely creatures, aren’t they? I feel like a dragon curling around its mound of treasure with my pens. Pens are meant for writing. Pencils may be erasable but pens flow– word after word mounting each other like a dew forming on a flower.
I am writing a short story for school. My goal was to wrench my readers’ hearts out with a heartbreaking tale with good morals. Then I had another idea, to fling all my ideas aside and write a sweet story that grabs your heart and makes you smile. Which one would you pick? Yes, I know, it`s tough. But by the end of the week I am going have to know. So, with a heart tangled like a tub of loose yarn, I will brave the decision-making that I loathe. It will end in either the characters dying, or a sweet taste of remembrance fading away on your tongue. One decision will change it all….