My Very First Story

My very first story was Bella and her friend Angela, and they were sealing wedding invitations for Angela's wedding, this, after Edward has just proposed to Bella, as well. Then Bella started crying, because she didn't know why Edward would want to marry her, so how can she keep him from running away again ('for her own good,' he said. ... Edward is an idiot)? And Angela's answer was to hug her friend as she cried.

"Bella's One Fear"

And I wrote that story, and I published it, and ... I got some good reviews on it. A one-pager.

And suddenly, I was no longer 'just a reader' ... I was a writer now, for real, too!

Wow! Just wow!

Albert Einstein said: "Everyone is a genius, but if you judge a fish on it's tree-climbing ability, that's what it is to you, and that's what it becomes."

That's me.

Now you. You have stories in your heart. Take your funny, yummy, happy stories, and run with them. Lock them away in your heart, and make them yours, yours, so that nobody can take them away from you.

Then.

Take your stories, all of them, one by one, and ... play with them, have fun, have tears, have adventures!

And one day, you will begin to touch hearts, and save lives.

"How's the writing coming along?"

Okay, I'm gonna vent a little*

* big, long, and ... long

about writing.

This chapter effing sucks. I can't start it, and I can't start starting it? But you know what really sucks? Have you seen the movie 'The Shining'? You know what's the worst thing to ask a writer? 'How's the writing coming along?'

the
absolute
worst
thing
you
can
ever
ask
a
writer
is
"How's the writing coming along?"

Because there's only two(hundred and fifty-six thousand) answers.

• one: It's already published. How do you like it?
• two: It's not published, and do you wanna know why it's not published? Glad you asked, because it effing sucks and I hate myself, and want to put out my eyes and throw myself into a meat-grinder, feet first, so I'll die in the worst possible agonizing pain, and that will be a huge relief to what I'm experiencing now with you asking: "How's the writing coming along?"

Because there're only two possible answers to that question.

Dear reader, do you even put yourself in my position when you ask this? Nope, not even a little tiny bit, because if you did, you'd back the eff off and thank God that a story that's developed over two years, which means one chapter a month and you're asking for a chapter how many days after the last one was published?

Get me?

Nope.

But when you publish your first WIP and get a reader so involved in your story that you get a PM from them saying: "Hey, love your work, ... when's the next chapter coming?"

Then you'll get it.

THEN you'll be sorry. And grovel. And say to yourself: "SELF!" Because that's what you'll say to yourself when you're talking to yourself [writers do this: talk to themselves, and write about talking to themselves]. "SELF!" you'll say, "geophf was right! Why can't these readers just give me space to contemplate my navel, and to do anything but write that next chap, which I know, if I just grit my teeth and write the words, my readers will love, but will I? No! I'll say to myself: 'SELF' [so now we're two levels deep in the self-talk ... still with me?] 'I have to get this just right!' But I know what I'm really doing is just stalling, and that's just torture for a writer, and I have to get away from the keyboard, but then effing laptop does an effing OS software update for an hour when I was just settling in to write, and I get a PM from my number one fan asking for how's my writing going, when I just want to throw my laptop with my 1 hour software update out the window ... of the Empire State Building?'"

That.

So, how my writing going?

Is it published yet? No. So you know exactly how my writing's going. It's going to hell faster than Satan sprayed with Holy Water. That's how it's going.

So, are you now glad to know how my writing's going? Why the EFF do you even ask a writer how's it going? Why don't you just take a knife and stab me in the stomach? Because that'll hurt less. Okay?

"How's the writing coming along?"
"Oh, it's coming along fine. How are you?"
"So, when can we expect to read that next chap?"
"Lovely weather we're having today."

Do you even read what every single writer in the world says about writing?

"Writing is fun and easy and I like it so much."

SAID NO WRITER EVER.

Or did you expect me to say that? You asked me that question so I'd say: "Good, good, ... and you?"

"leiked the chap update son"

EFFING SPENT A MONTH'S WORTH OF WORK STAYING UP ALL NIGHT AND I CAN'T EVEN SEE, I'M SO TIRED, BUT YOU WANT THE NEXT ONE SO I CAN DIE OF EXHAUSTION?

You know what's the worst thing about writing? Beside everything? Is when you've written a good chapter. Why? Because you have to follow that up with something. How can you follow up a good chapter with a good chapter, when the first good chapter took everything out of you? Okay, so now I'm drained. I guess I can try to wring some water out of the rock, or blood from this stone, because that's about all I've got left.

But then, I have to do something, don't I, because what's worse than writing (remember the meat-grinder?) (which is better than writing?)? Not writing.

Absolute. effing. torture.

But no. Not only am I not writing, but I now get to answer "How's it coming along?" and pretend like I'm not an utter failure because I can't even write the word 'the' without hating it and hating myself.

But it's coming along great. Just ... great.

Writers hate themselves more than they hate everybody else in the world, which is a lot, because they can't write when OTHER PEOPLE want to say: "Hey, how's it going?" when it's going sucky. AND interrupt their writing, ... which they're not doing, so they just SCREAM at OTHER PEOPLE to LEAVE THEM THE EFF ALONE instead of blaming the real loser here, themselves, and actually doing what will make them happy, which is to actually write the thing.

But no.