Last Day of Writing 101

Writing 101 has ended. And, yes, I’m partly prepared for the sudden drop in post engagement that is bound to follow.

But, as I wrap up the assignments from this course, I want to highlight some of the things I gained through it.

Writers’ Block Paranoia

There’s a lot of writing advice out there for wannabe pros. Most of it is about how you have to show up every day whether you feel like it or not. Have a set word limit for every day. Have a specific spot where you can sit down to write without distractions, Do it for a long time, and you’ll have your brain wired to pick up inspiration whenever you sit down. They speak long term.

Comment Inspired

This post was insppired by Scribbles by Arpita.

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It’s not that I’ve been very responsible or very consistent while blogging on this site. The very first post I wrote was inspired by The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Teens.

Meet My New Blog: The Closeted Non-native

"Why is writing so much harder for me than it is for everybody else?" — every novelist ever, secretly to themselves, all the time

— Lev Grossman (@leverus) April 28, 2015

When you’re doing something with nothing at stake it usually ends up better than when you do the same thing with something at stake, even if it’s just the sake of doing it for its own sake.

Do I even make sense?

Window

She sits at the table in the attic and sifts through her memories. Perhaps she’ll find something worth remembering. It might be something happy, or sad, or even scary. She only wants something memorable. There could be something there that she’s missed in all her years.

Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down

Something crashed onto the bed, jerking Ella awake.

She opened her eyes, pressing them shut again at once. Someone had moved the curtains in the window, letting in morning sunlight. She felt something move next to her on her small bed. She sheltered her eyes from the light with a hand and pushed herself off of the lying position. She was amazed, and slightly scared to find a girl on the bed next to her.

The girl was dressed in the most peculiar fashion. Her clothes looked like the attire of men. She wore two grease stained gloves, which Ella could only see because the other girl was struggling to release herself from the ropes that held them behind her back. Her light brown hair was pulled into a messy tail and grease stains covered her face as well.

“What is the meaning of this, Adri?” she screeched.

Geographic Tongue Had Me Thinking

The pictures of tongue inflammations still haunt me. Don’t know when it will stop…

I searched up geographic tongue as soon as I was done reading the post by pinklightsabre.I found two things that interested me in this post.

Motto For Life: Why I Am Here

When I close my eyes, I see myself as a writer. I see a pale blank page in front of me and feel a solid pen in my hand. I feel inspiration flowing through me, hear the words being whispered in my ears, ready to be written. And I see myself writing them. So, I write. And that is why I am here right now. To let the world know that I want to become better at this. That there is this unbelievably naive living in this corner of the world, who wants to have people help her become the best she can become.