Fictional Fiction #3

I wrote a short story today. Feel free to leave comments, but it’s merely general practice at writing English.

Proceed to read.

What is your favourite part of a book?

Naturally, this varies greatly from story to story, but I tend to lean towards the middle. The beginning is sweet, of course. I open the book, discreetly smell the pages (don’t judge me) and read the first page with awe. Either it draws me in immediately or it leaves me feeling unsatisfied. With the latter reaction, I tend to put the novel away and never pick it up again.

500 words on love – continued

You can read the first part of this entry here.

There’s always a beginning.

Did it open with our first kiss, when you had your arm around me and I leaned back to press my lips against yours? Did it open with our first goodbye, one of many, which left me in tears and wanting to run after you half way through Europe? No. It must have started before that.

In theory, you can say it all started with those tiny little coincidences that had to fall in place one by one and eventually lead me to you. But the love; it must have begun somewhere.

Teaching myself a lesson

I’m ambivalent today. My manuscript pulls me in, holds me tight and then pushes me away.

My whole life I have been told by loving family and friends that I have a talent, something I should pursue. A goal I need to work towards.

At the back of my mind, though, I have a nagging thought. You know those people you see during the first round of auditions on Idol? Their crow-like voices, their horrible moves and their amusing persistence. I have laughed at them in the past, but now I feel an odd form of sympathy.

Who will tell you when enough is enough?

Given the go-by

My manuscript has been returned. I am not all that clever, but I assume this is a really bad sign. It hit me like a ton of bricks, drained me of all inspiration and made me lose the will to write.