What Other People Think

 Write what you'd like to read.

When it comes to your personal life, there are only going to be a handful of people you meet whose opinions about you will actually matter.

Writing is an entirely different story. To become successful your book has to leave a positive impression on your readers.

This can give you a lot of pressure. So naturally you try to make the book really good so your readers will like it. BUT this isn't a very good strategy. 
It leaves you feeling frustrated, bored and uninterested in your own work.
When you try making something you think will ''sell'' and it's something you don't like yourself most of the time the result is horrible. Take it from me, I learned it form personal experience in short stories. 
Art is made from passion. A passionless story will leave no good impression at all on your readers. 
When an author tries to write to make money instead of doing it for the sake of art, they lose the meaning in it. Art is all about expression, it's all about having fun while your making it. If you love your book and you think it will sell then by all means write it, finish it. If your doing it so you can ''make it'' or get it to ''sell'' and actually not enjoy it then save your efforts.
When it comes to writing, you should write the things you yourself would read. If you don't like the idea then why write it? 

Have you ever tried to write something that you hated but thought would sell? Tell us about it in the comments!

Sucky Excerpt Monday

The boredom yet again continues, and so I decided to post my sucky beginning to the novel I wrote when I was twelve. Enjoy (or hate on it, whatever you want).

The first thing he felt as he woke up was the light of the sun, then the sound of the waves. He opened his eyes.

He was lying on a dark sandy beach. The sky was bright and the sun was shining down on him.

Who was he exactly? He did not know that himself. Then a name flashed into his mind and he remembered. Nigel.

A name. It was the only piece of his memory he had left. It's a tiny piece of who you are, and it's everything you are.

This beach was not his home. It only left a faint memory of what home was. He knew wherever he came from was far away. Far far away from this place.

Nigel stood up. It felt like he hadn't stood up in a long time. It was as if he was lying on that beach from the day time began.

He limped towards the stream near the beach. The water was crystal clear, bright blue. He saw his reflection for what seemed for the first time.

Nigel was not very tall. He was not very handsome either, and he wasn't very strong looking. In fact, he looked very frail. His hair was a dark black and he had deep maroon eyes.

Amnesia is a strange thing. You forget everything about who you are and still retain a few bits of information. Or that was the case with Nigel's amnesia anyway. He still remembered how the world works. That was for sure, or would the world turn purple any second now. He waited; then he shook his head. A purple world. That's just silly.

He had to find a place to stay for the night. As peaceful as the beach looked, he did not want to take any chances.

He turned around.

Nigel had to walk for a considerable while before he found the road.

It has to go somewhere. he thought.

Soon enough, he spotted a man on the path. He was driving a pick-up-truck filled with fishing equipment. Maybe he could hitchhike to the nearest town or something.

''Hey!'' he called after the man.

The man pulled the brakes and got out of the car. He was a short man with tan skin and a red scraggly beard. He was wearing a fishing outfit and yellow boots.

''Aren't you supposed to be with your parents son? What are you doing all the way out here?'' the man asked. His voice was surprisingly loud.

''Ummm. I'm going for a walk.'' Nigel said reluctantly.

''A walk? We're a long way from town.''

''I wanted to visit the beach.''

''Huh. Your a strange kid.'' the man said reluctantly.

He got back in the car.

''Get in, it's getting dark out,'' the man called.

Nigel realized only then that the sun was already beginning to go down.

He got in the car.

''By the way. I'm Ostin.'' said the man.

''I'm, Nigel.''

It was a long drive to the nearest town. It was a small town, very plain and simple but it looked like a safe place to stay the night. It had a great view of the sea.

Something did not feel right about the tiny town.

There was a large amount of people gathered near the beach. They were whispering into each others' ears and there was a lot of commotion.

Nigel walked instinctively into their direction and stopped abruptly.

He looked down to see a dead dolphin lying on the beach.

It looked different from a normal dolphin for one thing it was tinted a strange hue of purple and it was wearing a strap with a tiny rectangular box attached to it.

Then he saw the reason why it was dead.

Three bloody gashes stood side by side together as if made by a claw. They cut deep into the dolphin's skin. Nigel shivered. The sight of blood made him turn cold.

A man in a slightly worn suit and a pale weather beaten face pushed his way into the place where the dolphin lay. He seemed to be a leader of the town. Then he took the tiny box. The people standing among the crowd did not question his authority. Then he strode towards a beige one-story building.

Ostin walked towards Nigel.

''That's Mr. Sephio. He is the town mayor's assistant.'' Ostin whispered into Nigel's ear.

''What will they do to the box?'' Nigel asked.

''Confiscate it. It's probably a message from them.''

''Who?''

''The things that live under the ocean.''

''What do you mean?''

Ostin did not reply. He stood there silent and watched as two men carried the dead dolphin on a stretcher.

Then the crowd left one by one, losing interest.

''Is this normal?'' Nigel asked.

''No. It's not, but you never know what to expect from that place.'' he gestured towards the sea. He seemed like he was gazing to some far off place.

Nigel stared. The waves were crashing on the sand in a constant rhythm and the weather was clear and sunny. So why did Ostin sound so nervous? What could possibly lurking under the ocean floor?

He was still staring. Then something inside him felt a longing. A longing to jump down into the sea and dive to the bottom.

Nigel quickly shook of his longing. Humans were meant to live on the land. Where the plants grew in the soil and humans and animals walked on their feet.

Yeah, but am I even human? he thought to himself.

The thought didn't make any sense. Although, deep inside he knew he could be right.

Nigel's next problem was where he would stay for the night.

He didn't have any money and he was already sure that home was far away.

''You should get back to your parents kid.'' said Ostin.

Nigel stood there paralyzed.

Uh-oh what do I say?Come on, think.

''I can't. I'm an orphan.''

''An orphan?''

''My parents they,'' said Nigel racking his brain,'' recently got into an accident.''

''Really? When?'' said Ostin suspiciously.

''A few days ago,''he said pausing again. Then he remembered the look on Ostin's face when he talked about the sea.''We are on vacation. They were going for a swim one second they were there the next they were gone.''

Ostin's eyes widened.

That was such a stupid lie! Well, what was I supposed to say. Sorry Ostin, I don't know who my parents were. I woke up on the beach without any idea who I was. He thought grumpily.

''I'm so sorry. It must have been terrible.'' Ostin said apologetically.

''Yeah.'' Nigel said trying to sound miserable for the parents who never existed.

''You can come stay with me tonight. I got an empty room with a warm bed. Tomorrow we can find a way to get you back home. Sounds good son?'' he said patting his shoulder.

Nigel felt horrible for lying. Where else could he go otherwise?

''Oh, sure. Thank you.''

''This ocean it's got some strange things going on. I still have no idea why I fish. I suppose it's cause the little boy within me is still clamoring for some adventure,'' said Ostin.

They got back into the truck. Ostin drove to a cozy one-story house a not so far away from the beach where they saw the dolphin.

Ostin used his key and they made their way inside. The house was a small place with yellow walls. There was no trace of anything remotely modern inside.

Ostin showed Nigel his room.

Nigel practically collapsed on the bed. The room was small and cramped. There was a view of a river running down towards the beach from his window. He left the curtains open.

''I see you're tired from the day, huh kid?'' Ostin said chuckling.

Nigel nodded.

''I'll leave you to rest. Come to the kitchen for dinner once I'm done cooking. We'll decide what you should do tomorrow.''

He shut the door quietly.

Lying isn't a very nice thing to do. Not many people are good at it. Nigel did not particularly enjoy lying but he knew exactly the right thing to say when dealing with people and how they would react.

Nigel stared at the hard wood floor racking his brains for answers for the many questions in his head. Unfortunately, amnesia doesn't work that way.

Then he fell asleep.

- - -

In many books, this is around the time our amnesia stricken hero gets a dream about his or her mysterious past. That is not the case here because Nigel woke up in the middle of his dreamless sleep.

The water in the river made an unnatural sounding splash against the shore. Nigel woke up with a start. He looked outside the window.

A shadowy figure was swimming through the river

Hey, I wrote it when I was twelve. If you actually like it okay then.
I only reached page two and then I went on with my life and with other novels. I'm going for a reboot oneday.

Writing Prompt: Wings

Imagine life if you had wings. Any type, a pheonix's wings, fairy wings, bird wings or even wings made of air.

How would you describe the earth from up above? The sights, the people. How far would you fly?

Sample for a starting paragraph:

Soaring upon the wind with wings...

Writing Prompts

Like I said before, a lot of writers have a hard time writing everyday. So people use things like prompts to help them.

I just decided to do a series of prompts to get you started.

How To Write More Everyday

I'm in a helpful mood today. So I thought why not make a second post. Then my other inner voice who is a British dog trainer and co-blogger said, '' Sure Firlit, go ahead.''
All right, so lately my noveling hasn't been going very speedily. I get distracted really easily and I forget things, again like a goldfish T_T.  So I'm thinking of ways to get started.


1. Stop using the internet when you write.
''Oh, but it's not like I'm addicted to Facebook or anything.'' (yeah but you probably are to just about everything else, evidence in the fact that your reading this). Sometimes I just do everything else besides noveling. The internet can make time go faster, way faster. Sometimes people just go randomly google things (like me) to pass the time.
Shut off your internet connection, plug it out, or better yet if you can't and your in the mood get a pen and write some passages down.


2. Stop eating just to get away from your novel.
I may have done this before. Yeah, no matter how good the food is you shouldn't eat too much. Once I started noveling I started eating more. Don't use it as an excuse. Time is precious.
Use it as a reward, how to do that will be stated in point three.


3. If you can't help it use the food as a reward.
You just bought a delicious chocolate bar from the store. Oh yum! It's time to dig in. But wait! You haven't written anything today. 
Put the chocolate cake/nachos/dip sandwich/mudcake/whatever(sorry if I made you hungry >:) ) down and make a personal wordcount goal. Once you reach it you can go and damn well devour your dip sandwich(they are possible).


4. Write everyday
I know cliche advice you hear this everywhere. From every singleperson who gives writing advice. Yeah but do you actually follow through with it? Even a hundred words a day can help.
Speaking of that these websites can help with this(both free, no wallet raping):
http://writeordie.com
It's cruel sometimes but it works. Though it's stressful. Better to use if you have a time limit.
http://writtenkitten.net
A much more adorable write or die. It's more leisurely and you get all bubbly inside once you reach that hundred word count.

5. Try writing in a peaceful environment.
Quiet can clear you mind. Go to a quiet peaceful place alone and write. It will be easier to immerse yourself into your novel. Plus you'll have less distractions.


6. Once your done reading this, go and write.
Have you been having trouble finding time to write? Chances are now you have that time. Go, go my friend and write like you've never written before.




Happy noveling. And good luck ;). I'm off to finish my latest chapter

The Duck Face

It feels like I'm learning about a new meme every other week. I just discovered this new one in class. My classmates were making everyone do the duckface because they were ''shooting ducks''. Now that I think about it that sounds pretty fun.

 For those of you who aren't aware of this meme it's when people do this:

So they can look like this:

Not going to happen.

But they really look like this:

To be fair they aren't doing them much justice.

And most of the time it's done by people like this:

Other slightly known internet meme.

In fact there's even a site dedicated to stopping the Annoying Facebook Girls who do this.
  http://antiduckface.com/    
( I support it ^_^)
The description on the right sums it up perfectly. Hehe.

 I am one of those people who find the duck face disturbing. And you people look like sluts while doing it. Just sayin.

Talking to Your Characters Outside of Your Novel (Making the Most of It)

Some writer regularly talk to their characters. Their characters live in their heads. They talk to them and laugh with them regularly. I am one of those people.

For all non-writers, no we are not insane. This is our version of normal.

If this is you and you think your nuts. You are not alone here fellow writer, let us all go crazy together(with our characters of course). That has recently happened to me too. So, they talk to you regularly or only sometimes.

I talk to them sometimes. Sometimes my main characters pop up when I'm stressed out or just really really bored. I don't see them of course, I just imagine their voices and how they'd look sitting or standing somewhere.

We writers don't really ''see'' or ''hear'' them as we'd see anything in right front of us with our senses.We see them with our minds and ''feel'' them

Now this can be used at an advantage. You see, these characters are more than imaginary friends and just characters. Once they live in your head it's personal.

I am of a belief that if the writer him/herself cannot connect with the character neither will the reader. The more you bond with your character, the more you make them real. Think about their personalities while your not writing. Imagine them making side comments and laughing at jokes they'd find funny. You'll come to understand them more.

This is a great technique, some people use it without realizing it or trying to.

In real life try to think if things like: '' Oh, Alice and Bob would love that place.''

In our novels we bring out our characters personality through the things we put them through. Why not bring them out and try to understand them by having them react to real life events and see those reactions? It will let you understand their perspectives more.

I am also of a belief that your characters have to breathe, no they have to give the story carbon dioxide. Without carbon dioxide the story suffocates and cannot in turn give the characters oxygen. A living breathing person is complex. We cannot mimic a real person, no matter how hard we try, we cannot mimic the complex psychology of a real human. We can make them seem real. I think talking to your character outside of your novel can help with that.

So just simply making your character react to things outside of your novel will help like if the place Alice and Bob like is a library. You probably have discovered that they like reading (or maybe the concrete they used to make the library).

Characters aren't made by planning them, they change and grow and breath. You don't know them yet. Talk to them. Hey, it may seem crazy but it works!

To all the writers there, do you talk to your characters? How often do they talk to you?