"… He would… whisper blessings to the silver moon… gazing down on the earth; finding a friend in the sun and family amongst the stars…"
a short expert from a story I'm working on-
If you know me, and for those of you who don't, I'm sure you're a very happy person, you'd know my writing habits: write a short opening scene, get inspiration for another story, write another opening scene for that story, get inspiration, ect… repeatedly the same process!
Story of my life.
I'm not very proud of this, uh, habit. I've only finished two stories and one poem, and I have a fat notebook, overflowing with started-but-never-finished stories. Actually, three whole notebooks overflowing with little short parts of a story I had thought was cool, and began to write, but dropped it because of another story that pushed aside those feelings and writings. Which, literally, left me, with wrinkly paper and smudged pen marked abandoned stories. In three notebooks.
My brother has repeatedly told me, "You have to finish writing at least one story! You're so scatter-brained… you need to stick to one story, and shove the rest out the door. You need to focus. You'll never write a proper novel if you keep this up."
Alright, okay, yeah. I know he's right. But, honestly, he's not the one with ideas flying through his head, and just coursing through my blood to burst out onto the paper! I write what I feel, and right now, in this phase of life and maturity, I'm a total, like my brother, along with the rest of my family, thinks, scatter-brain. I'm constantly brainstorming, thinking… what to write, how it should start, what the character is feeling, the surroundings. Then I loose myself. Completely.
In the world of fantasy and fiction, I just cannot keep track of the time! Anyone out there who can relate?
"He lifted his eyes to search the road before them. Rocks. He looked back down to his worn boots, and mumbled a thanks to his mother for the meek gift, but cursed the day he set off on his journey… "
-Another thing I'm workin' on