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Dedicating to Writing
6 years ago
It's around 3 A.M. where I live (the PST timezone) and instead of dedicating the whole day to some Microsoft Paint bits like I usually do, I want to start pursuing a writing career. I've have a few ideas throughout the past few months actually. I just haven't gotten around to actually committing myself to a full project.
It's technically one day before my birthday, June 18th. I'm going to make a small challenge for myself: I want to make a rough draft of my story before I turn the age of fifteen. I think it's cool to look at a piece of writing and say, "I've written this when I was only fourteen years old." Even if it's not perfect, it doesn't need to be. It is going to be a rough draft after all. I have all of the time in the world to edit and change my story.
Speaking of that, I am aware of my small idiosyncrasy which is my fixation towards constantly editing my own crafts, whether it's my artworks, music, or other files or media. I do set a cutoff line for these, comparatively a week at most and any further do I just consider that publishing a performance of my past. For something like an entire story, I feel like there will be an ongoing onslaught of edits, whether I find a grammar mistake, simply wanted to word something differently, or even an inconsistency that I notice.
I've mentioned that my story will revolve around Frainty, and that remains true. My original idea was mostly setting the plots around school situations. Since the summer for most schools, it wouldn't make sense especially to debut with school circumstances. I'll set off my ideas for September or maybe even August. I still have ideas that aren't school-oriented though, so there's still no worries in that category.
I've just thought of a mini-exercise of sorts: I'm going to state a one-sentenced thought, and I will try to stretch it to be as specific and attention-maintaining as I can. It's very easy to make this excessively verbose, so I'll try to keep it to a moderate level. There's nothing that I can say that would be necessarily wrong; in my descriptive paragraph, I may add unstated details, actions, or dialogue. As long as I stay true to the initial sentence, it's justifiable. It's almost like a reverse summary.
The sentence: "After sluggishly crawling out of bed, I grab some cereal and prepare for school."
I gradually awaken to see my guardian at the foot of the bed. She speaks in a calm voice, "Your alarm clock seems broken," she says, slowly rising up to stand. "Either that or your consciousness is broken."
Before I was able to give a reply, she closes the door in a belligerent fashion. I had presumed she had been irritated by having to wake me up herself, but I dismissed it quickly.
Another lethargic morning calls for a quick bowl of cereal. After the first few bites, I notice the chime of the clock in from the other room. I lean to the left to check the time and I noticed I only had ten minutes to arrange. Usually the morning is a routine that had never acclimated over time, but certainly this wake-up call had altered my mood at that moment.
Friskily slipping on my shoes, grabbing my notebooks, and rearranging them inside of my backpack, I make a dash outside to see the school bus hadn't even arrived yet. I took the few extra minutes to pack in rather extra, intermediate supplies—such as a ruler and a protractor—since I thought I couldn't have gone wrong with just a few additional equipment. The school bus finally arrives, and I lastly step foot into the start of a new beginning.
It's technically one day before my birthday, June 18th. I'm going to make a small challenge for myself: I want to make a rough draft of my story before I turn the age of fifteen. I think it's cool to look at a piece of writing and say, "I've written this when I was only fourteen years old." Even if it's not perfect, it doesn't need to be. It is going to be a rough draft after all. I have all of the time in the world to edit and change my story.
Speaking of that, I am aware of my small idiosyncrasy which is my fixation towards constantly editing my own crafts, whether it's my artworks, music, or other files or media. I do set a cutoff line for these, comparatively a week at most and any further do I just consider that publishing a performance of my past. For something like an entire story, I feel like there will be an ongoing onslaught of edits, whether I find a grammar mistake, simply wanted to word something differently, or even an inconsistency that I notice.
I've mentioned that my story will revolve around Frainty, and that remains true. My original idea was mostly setting the plots around school situations. Since the summer for most schools, it wouldn't make sense especially to debut with school circumstances. I'll set off my ideas for September or maybe even August. I still have ideas that aren't school-oriented though, so there's still no worries in that category.
I've just thought of a mini-exercise of sorts: I'm going to state a one-sentenced thought, and I will try to stretch it to be as specific and attention-maintaining as I can. It's very easy to make this excessively verbose, so I'll try to keep it to a moderate level. There's nothing that I can say that would be necessarily wrong; in my descriptive paragraph, I may add unstated details, actions, or dialogue. As long as I stay true to the initial sentence, it's justifiable. It's almost like a reverse summary.
The sentence: "After sluggishly crawling out of bed, I grab some cereal and prepare for school."
I gradually awaken to see my guardian at the foot of the bed. She speaks in a calm voice, "Your alarm clock seems broken," she says, slowly rising up to stand. "Either that or your consciousness is broken."
Before I was able to give a reply, she closes the door in a belligerent fashion. I had presumed she had been irritated by having to wake me up herself, but I dismissed it quickly.
Another lethargic morning calls for a quick bowl of cereal. After the first few bites, I notice the chime of the clock in from the other room. I lean to the left to check the time and I noticed I only had ten minutes to arrange. Usually the morning is a routine that had never acclimated over time, but certainly this wake-up call had altered my mood at that moment.
Friskily slipping on my shoes, grabbing my notebooks, and rearranging them inside of my backpack, I make a dash outside to see the school bus hadn't even arrived yet. I took the few extra minutes to pack in rather extra, intermediate supplies—such as a ruler and a protractor—since I thought I couldn't have gone wrong with just a few additional equipment. The school bus finally arrives, and I lastly step foot into the start of a new beginning.
