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Apr. 18th, 2013 @ 09:33 am writer's block?
feeling: frustratedfrustrated
OK so i'm not totally sure that i have writers block but the problem is when i start to write i can get nothing out and my ideas get jumbled. When i don't write and try and give myself a break all i can think of is the story and whats going to happen next. it is so frustrating. anyone have any ideas as to how to get past this?
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cvampy89:
Mar. 28th, 2013 @ 10:44 pm The New Story I was Just Raving About. Hittin' It To Ya'
Originally posted by genimsaj at The New Story I was Just Raving About. Hittin' It To Ya'

Okay. So remember in my post Grueling Satisfaction where I was droning on and on of how I wrote a story and posted it on Wattpad and I was all into it and i was excited about life?

Yea...cut that crap out.

Every frackin' bit of it.

Cause 'Unique Happenings' (the story I posted on Wattpad) were not happening so uniquely (hehe see what I did there?)
Looking back at What I've been writing THEN vs. What I've been writing NOW? says to me that Unique Happenings was A LOT tougher to write.

And I didn't really like what I was writing.

That's probably why.... it was tougher.

Yeah sure, t was an off-post of my actual life, but it was boring to write...
And I even said I hoped it had enough enthusiasm...but It didn't.

I guess cause that period of my life wasn't even close to enthusiastic...like at all...

But this new one I've been writing for the past week. Sure fire, has a lot of potential

The story just flows.

It's like a T.V. show you just keep coming back to.
Whether its the train wreck writing like Jersey Shore or Secret Life.. Or the non-stop propelling questions, thrillers and surprises like Pretty Little Liars. I myself am amused. I even want to know more.

Hell, and I'm the writer.
Do you know what this MEANS????????

This means that I've broken through with this start and fail of story-block.

It's soo good...(to me, I mean I don't care if you don't like it)
It's like it's not even real.

Like, I was expecting this breakthrough to be a lightbulb or a switch but

It's not.

It's nowhere close some great holy revelation, where the skies open and I'm blinded by heaven's lights and God himself, while he tells me he's gonna change me into one of the greatest 'writing' apostles of all time.

Psssh...like I expected that to happen....wh-what? (kinda)

It's like a natural groove. I write a little more each time.

Atleast a thousand words a day.

(That junk is awesome)

Like guys....I know what the ending is and it doesn't sicken me.

(Do you know that feels????)

I just feel beautiful right now.
And the best part is.

The gut-wrenching feeling that it's gonna go away.......

ISN'T THERE!!!!!

Holy. Moly.

Get that into your head. Cause that's 'rizzy-real'.

(Get on ma level)

It sucks cause I entered into a unpublished writers award contest and I can't post it anywhere until I figure out the winners.....so all this gloating and no cake.

Sorry guys...you'll read it one day.

Maybe when it's even....dare I say it?

Finished.

Until next time

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genimsaj:
Mar. 28th, 2013 @ 10:42 pm Practice, Practice, Practice?
feeling: confusedconfused
I really wonder if practice makes perfect?

Cause I still make grammar mistakes and spell things wrong.

I don't put commas in the right places and I still get confused with they're, their, and there.
....which makes me feel like a dunce.

Stephen King and Jodi Picoult DONT make mistakes like that....
DO THEY?

I wonder if in college will I have enough free-zy time to write in my blogs as much as I want to....=/

Geez. That's scary.
But no seriously. They say the more you swrite Even if it's a paragraph A DAY!!!!!

Does that make your writing better?
Can someone tell me?
 Anybody?
*whisper*
Somebody please talk to me....
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genimsaj:
Sep. 7th, 2012 @ 02:25 am (no subject)
I am trying to work on my original stories now. I'm honestly looking for a well oiled editor or co-author. I enjoy writing urban fantasy , horror and I tie my real life issues into stories of course as well. It would be helpful if you would also look at my profile. I am also looking for someone who has free time , or at least doesn't feel rushed or pushed into working with me. I'm honestly mostly just looking for an editor/co-author friendship type relationship.
Thank you in advance.
-Sissy
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elysianstarseed:
Dec. 9th, 2010 @ 04:12 pm Critique on prose piece need, rip me apart!
Hi, I'm applying to a creative writing course at university and my favourite uni has requested samples of my writing, so it's really important that I make this perfect. Constructive criticism is my best friend. Please rip it apart, be picky, let me know what you think. Thanks!


“Long Distance” - draft one

“Can’t you just stay?” I ask.
“I’ll be back again before you know it,” you say, looking down at me, forcing a smile.
Another month apart. The time spreads out before us. It is cold, so cold that it’s infiltrating this moment, its fingers brushing down our spines, filling us with sadness and despair.
I look at you, stare hard, trying to drink your image in, demanding more, more, more of my eyes. I just want to make these final seconds really count, to really appreciate you while I still have you...
Read more...Collapse )
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quickestpulse:
Jul. 19th, 2010 @ 06:34 am Every scar has a story
feeling: contemplativecontemplative
Tell us about one of your scars.

Me? I used to be afraid of sleeping in the dark. I had this little clip-lamp that I'd put on my bunk bed. Then the clip part broke and I'd lay it in between the bed and the wall. I'm a restless sleeper. I would thrash about and lay still. One day I laid still with my knee right on the light bulb. Got a blister from that and a ring-shaped scar. Twenty years later I still have that scar.

After that I decided to not be afraid of the dark.
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focus23:
May. 5th, 2010 @ 02:50 pm imaginary girlfriends
We argue about imaginary people, the ones I write about. She finds the stories written down on the back of sales sheets from my job. It really puts June in a rage to see that I have written anything about another woman, regardless of whether or not she’s imaginary or not.
"I don't know why you have to keep doing the same tired old routines about the same tired old stereotypes. You always write women into being these beautiful crazy demons, or absolute angels, there is middle ground you know, and real women don’t live at these extremes that you think are so funny and true. Your ancient archetypes are old hat."
She finds the stories though, usually in my binder of sales sheets, and she holds them up as though it’s some other womans clothes she has found in my bedroom.
"Who the fuck is this? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU WORD FUCKING IN THIS STORY? If I ever find another woman on paper in here, it’s going to be a hell storm of rage on your life. I will felonize on your body."
Occasionally, June will prove my theories extremely right. I think its got something to do with the fact that you should never date a woman who has a month for a name. It gives them unnatural powers, maybe from nature, perhaps that would make them natural, I’m not sure.

remainder of the story at http://willterrytragic.livejournal.com/34873.html
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willterrytragic:
May. 3rd, 2010 @ 09:58 am The Measure and the Rhytm
I wonder at the construction
of the heart
Was it glued together with dreams
and tears?
Like in a fairy-tale
Where no one wins

Was it an afterthought of design
When boredom had struck
And the imperfections it bears
are reflections
of a fickle architect

Is it a bed that bears the weight
of transient lovers
Destined to be warmed
and abandoned?

Is that the rhythm we should
always expect?
The quickening and collapse

Until the moment it can pus no longer
Clogged by disappointments

What do we do when the organ of hope

fails?
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soulshade:
Apr. 20th, 2010 @ 11:15 pm credit system suicide
     I tracked across the train yard with Baskins trailing a white Sudafed color behind me talking and talking. I kept a good check on the compass, and made sure my direction was continually southwest. You can’t travel in a straight line through an entire city though. I occasionally had to veer south or west. When I would go south, I would feel the pressure of work wearing me like a strait jacket. To the west, the death dial tone.
     Baskins kept rattling on. I started laying things in his path to thwart him. I would turn over abandoned shopping carts, break discarded beer bottles, I even tried to scale a barb wire fence but he was already on the other side by the time I got stabbed by barbs. Nothing is worse than fake work friendships. You associate with those people the way cashiers associate with condoms. They really have nothing to do with each other but under formally uncomfortable circumstances, they interact.

(remainder of story at http://willterrytragic.livejournal.com/34390.html)
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willterrytragic:
Apr. 19th, 2010 @ 01:46 am a story
"Because I save lives Will, that’s why I love lifesavers candy.”
There is essentially only one thing you will be trained on to work at the
Suicide prevention call center. “Identify the person as a threat to themselves or others.”
Beyond identification, there is no other training.
I get curious, because I view this job as like a low level doctor, saving lives across phone lines. I asked, once we verify that a person is a threat to themselves, what do we do?
"You transfer them to a trained self harm counselor".
You have to ask questions; have to get them to talk about themselves.
Identify the threat is our motto. Baskins always wears all white. White car, white pants, white everything, except for his teeth.
"I guess you didn’t hear", enthusiasm in his voice makes me feel sick; "I pulled three people this morning from the grips of death. I am Jesus.” He laughs and points at the bulletin board. Next to his name were three happy face stickers. Far beneath his name was mine, with empty space and a few sad face stickers, because I’m not very good at this job.

(rest of the story at http://willterrytragic.livejournal.com/34110.html
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willterrytragic:
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