Friday, August 5, 2011


I've never been good with writing fiction. I love reading it; am always happier when I have a good book on hand...but writing fiction has never been a strong point for me.

In college I took a creative writing class. I enjoyed the poetry exercises. I felt I had a knack of pairing words together to make really unique scenes and settings. I liked being able to tell a story in a small space without having to really overwhelm myself with thoughts of *pl0t*.

I did write a short story that semester I really liked. It is about a girl who turns into a bird. I feel like there is something there, something to expand on. I had this space and word limit, so I feel like the explanation, the plot, the setting is jumbled. I have wanted to work on it, and maybe try and make it better. Maybe let it out of the box and have a life of its own.

Then, I keep thinking about my friend P. I lost him almost six years ago. I feel like that friendship is something that needs to be written about. The time frame fits. Maybe it could go together.

Ideas and thoughts keep rattling around my head like a rock stuck in an engine. I can't ignore it. The fact that I have the thoughts is a good sign though, right? Maybe, I can really do something with it?

I hope so.

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