I first signed up for NaNoWriMo last year. I won’t even tell you my word count at the end. It was pretty bad. It was a YA novel focused on a young woman who has to take over the care for her younger sister, after her mother emotionally checks out on them. Their mother tragically dies, and they move in with their aunt. The main character finds happiness through a boy and music. It sounds so cliche, doesn’t it? I suppose that’s why I could barely finish it. On top of that fact, I was attempting it under a heavy course load of schoolwork.
It took me a while to figure out that contemporary YA was not exactly the area I wanted to focus an entire novel at the moment. I don’t mind writing realistic fiction. I enjoy writing it, however it’s probably best not to force a story, or it will just turn out plain bad.
It’s important to stay true to yourself. Write the story that most interests you, the one that speaks to you. It’s only when we stay true to our voice that we find the real character’s story that we want to tell. I found which characters I want to talk about. I found the ones whose voice captured me. I can’t wait to share their stories with others. Isn’t that the most important thing?
I’ve been away for a while. I’ve mostly been establishing myself on http://www.nanowrimo.org. I’ve basically got 15,000 words of a manuscript done. However I’m hoping nanwrimo will give me the kick in the pants I need to actually finish it. I already have an outline completed for the rest of the book. I’m thinking that it’s going to be a trilogy of books, and I’ve already been coming up with ideas for the second book. Let’s just say I feel sorry for my main character. I’d encourage other writers to join. It’s a wonderful, supportive enviroment. I’ll probably post my progress and my fustrations as I write.
I just wanted to say thank you to all the people who liked my short stories, even the ones I didn’t really like. (Ha.) I know I’m on the right track to become a better writer, but I still feel like I have a ways to go. The majority of these stories were written earlier in my college career. I just need to sit my butt down in a chair and write more because the ideas are there, but I’m terrible at time management. I’ll probably start posting flash fiction also. Anyway, thank you again.
Grass. It was the first thing I came in contact with, when I woke up. I was face down in grass, and the small green tufts tickled my nose. I got to my feet and saw a road that was lined with cookie-cutter houses. I was standing on the corner by a street sign. It said Carver Road, but recognition escaped me. I had no idea where I was. Then after a while, with some fear, names, faces, and places disappeared from my head, like water flowing through my hands. I couldn’t even remember my own name. There was a puddle near my feet, and I stared down at it to get a glimpse of my face. My reflection was almost transparent. The rays of the sun seemed to shine right through me and at that moment I knew. But, I didn’t want to believe it.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper softly into his ear. He’s squirms a little in his bed and turns his head away from me. A feeling of emptiness settles in my stomach. My chest feels tight and air becomes harder to come by.
“Maya, don’t ignore me,” Sam said, words mixing up with the dust and disappearing. The air was tense; a mind-warping tension that sent shivers through his spine. He could tell that she didn’t like this. It didn’t used to be like this. They used to be friends, but now it was like they were two strangers staring at each other from opposite sides of a large cliff. He knew she was desperate to keep him. If she couldn’t hold onto him, she would do everything in her power to keep him on a leash. He was not allowed to leave her. Only she could leave him, and he knew she didn’t plan on letting him go any time soon.
I got this picture by using Diary of a Wimpy Kid’s website. Right here: http://www.wimpyourself.com/
This is a real life representation. In case, you were wondering what I looked like.