daily writing

this may not make sense, but i have to catch the rhythm of my writing.


puddles lined the sidewalks, no dry place to step. the rain hadn't stopped for a week and all gutters overflowed with the stuff from below. walking in the street wasn't an option, since cars floated down an avenue or boulevard. but it didn't matter anyway. her clothes were soaked to the skin. at least the friction burns kept her from losing consciousness.

it seemed like only hours ago she was going to work. taking a subway into the city, then coming home afterwards. her husband welcomed her every day with open arms and that moment was her reason for everything.

things could have been worse. he might be dead, her too, but with the rain pummling down, she couldn't see how. for a moment, all vision blurred and she swayed from one foot to another. with a clenched fist, she caught a nearby wall and leaned hard into it. The cool stone felt good, it was stable. turning her back to it, slowly she slid down and closed her eyes.

they tell you to always try to stay alert, not to go to sleep, but what choice did she have. her watch displayed June 29th and she started on the 19th. the accident was only a few days behind her and the bleeding stopped, so she was okay. at least that's what she thought.

her vision blurred again and this time she retched, unable to hold the ground under her. it didn't matter, though, because the neverending rain washed it down the concrete and into the river of 40th street. for a moment she slept.

when she woke up, the room was bright and yellow. the color was easy on the eyes, but it seemed strange because it was so dry. around her, as a bed with guard rails, to prevent falling out and a rolling cart with food. she couldn't smell it, but steam rose from what looked like mashed potatoes and mushrooms. no one was in the room, but people passed the window that showed out into the hallway. She would guess it was a hospital, but everyone who passed wore yellow, to match her room.

One young man looked in when he noticed movement in the room. His brow furrowed and he walked in the opposite direction. A short time later, two women, accompanied by the young man walked through the door. As they approched, she blinked a few times, adjusting her sight. It seemed as if the two women's outfits changed color as they stepped through the door. The man remained in yellow, but the other two were in red.

"How are you feeling Miss," the one on the left inquired.

"I... i'm really sleepy," she replied.

"That's fine. We had to give you a little something for your head. But you're all better now." Would you like to eat some food?"

"Sure!" why did she sound like a little kid?

The young man rolled over the food cart and for the first time, she realized just how hungry she was. The two women moved aside and spoke about papers at the end of her bed. He came closer to her bed, and she noticed that the mash potatoes weren't steaming anymore. Her shoulders slumped as she was looking forward to a warm meal.

"Let's go, time to eat."

He pulled a stool next to the food cart and was ready to begin feeding her when she held up a small hand. The mashed potatoes shifted before her eyes, they were moving. small, translucent figures danced under grayish gravy. Her stomach turned as she looked to the mushrooms and found only slugs in their place.

"How do i eat that? They are bugs," her small voice was quiet in the large yellow room.

"They're good for you, please don't fuss," he said in a firm, but kind voice.

"You're not going to make me eat that!"

"You'll have to to feel better, miss. You wouldn't want to make him angry," one of the women chimed in.

"That's right, he would think we did a bad job of making you better," the young man continued.

The silent woman looked at the food, then to her. With a smile, she gestured to the food with an open hand. White, fluffy mounds filled the plate again and next to the mushrooms, a brownie was there for dessert.

It wouldn't be so bad to eat this, it looks like food now anyway and i'm so hungry she thought to herself....

daily writing

okay so here it begins. this is not a free write because i'm editing it, but it is daily writing.

i have to write daily, i have to write daily. i wish i could come up with stories like other fantasy writers. i guess if i decided to make it my first job to write, i would be able to create something that magnificent.

there are too many instances of the letter "i" in my writing. could it be that the self is perceived way too much. is the subconscious trying to tell me something? it's easy to write without using the self reference, but often times, it's preferred to include it. maybe there is a need to use elementary writing because the brain refuses to exert effort. it can be quite tiresome!

if i were to make a world, it wouldn't be like any other. all commonalities we've grown to know would be thrown out the window, and no one would like the story, probably. gravity would be thrown upside down just so i could have my way. things could be explained that don't make sense here, but in my world it wouldn't matter. it's my decision anyway, right?

don't know. i really need to find a way to keep myself less stressed. it's starting to play on my health and i don't like that one bit. i'm getting sick too often, and i'm always tired. the reasons are clear, too much work... but it can't be avoided. unless i fall into a sickness so great, it would hinder me. but i can't wish for that to happen, that would give too much freedom.

anyway, let's start with a forest. one of my favorite characters i've created is a speaker of the trees. it's not really like the lorax, or anything like that, more along the lines of pixie's and silly fantasy stuff like that.

here is where i'm at an impasse. should i freely write my stories here online, when there is a chance that they'll be stolen? i could easily write my newly made stories without a problem, but i couldn't write my most beloved and true tales because they are too important to me.

so, i guess you'll have to read about Lylandra when it's on the bookshelves.

(wow, i forgot i had this. will post and start anew)

been a while

it's been a while.... but it's time i wrote again.

been reading george r.r. martin's book - game of thrones and it put me back in the mood of fantasy writing.

i went to his site to see what he had to say about writing and it's the same as all authors. read and write all the time.

although i say i don't have the time, maybe it's just because i'm not putting enough effort into it. i used to keep a diary and write fervently every night, making sure my memories were kept in the sacred books. dreams too, but that all went astray when i had to take on more responsibilities.

i should do my free writing again, but i don't feel like it.

maybe later. but i do want to start writing some short stories!

~wyn

free write

yeah, so i think this free writing ertally helps me. for sclass last night, we had to come up with a 3-5 minute speach, speech, and i wrote all about my husband. the words flowed out and it felt good because i only stumbled a little on the words to use, but never the idesa.

maybe i'll make a habit of doing this at least once a day, kind of to clense my pores of thought. that could be kind of couol, wouldn't it? then maybe i could write a little more about what ideas go on in my head, then again, maybe not. hee hee

at least my typing is getting a little better. i can write a lot more without deepending on the backspace, and that';s reassureing. or maybe not... ah well. it's good to just relax and type it all out.

this probably won't be a s long as th e last one. seems that i had a lot on my mind. today, i'm a little tired. we stayed up to watch some tv shows and just spend some time not working so hard.

if i could go to school, i think i would , no that's not the right place soto start. if i could go to school for anything, i think it would be for the culinary arts, voice performance, or something esle. but i have to go work not..

~wyn

free write

well i figured i have a lot of things on my mind, so without hitting the backbpase ckey, i'm going to just do a free write. i don't thingk i like to edit the spaces because that takes too much briain power. the grammar is already embedded within my gingerditips, oi.. fingertips , and using the backbspace key is def. part of m y normal typing speekd :(

so i figured... i ditn't want to start off like that. ah well. lots of things are going very smoothly at the start of this semester. i have this writing blog athat i inctend to use more and more to help my free flow f or of writing. so, once and a while im going to start using this method to help my thoughts just come out.

one of the many reasong s i have a problem writing is because i clam up. for some reason, i feel like my mind has to be.. has to have a perfect rendition of ta scene aoso oi i can write it out. that's no good because i streess too much on what should be written and hwo it should be rewriteten . hopefully, i'll be abke to write more freely this way.

hahaha now i'm beginning to ramble. but that's what this is all about, riht? this is normally how my writing happens, im' on the subaway,or o (damn i used the spacebar... have to put that piece back where ti it was... hee hee), or in the shower and i have a perfect scene that i can picture in my head. unfortunately , when i get to a piece of paper, i don' thave the same drive to write it down, the moment's over. it's kind o

it's kind of spoiled, in a way. i should condiction myself to write anyway, or at least keep the excitement until i tcan get to some paper and a writing implemetnt. perhaps someone will betell me to get s a pad and pa pen to carry around with me all the time. that would be great, but i'm walking most of the time. perhaps a recorder. maybe i can invest in a tepa tape recorder, digital and recuortd.. uh.. record my thoughts and recollections on this journal. hahahahaha that's so dracula unleasehed. i think that's what i may do.

i don't have an iposd, but i have ... no let me rephrase that. i don't have an ipod mini or regular, so i wonder if the digital rercording thingy is fgood for the shuffle... hm. interesting.

well, i think i'll ed tn end this free write. i have some work to get back to .

i was ful it was fun!! hahahaha and i'm learning a lot abotu my typing mistakes. that's something i should sowkr ok work on as well.

or maybe my fingers just haven another adgenda.

`Wyn

Video Games!!!

YAY!! i wrote once again about video games. This was my final research paper for Writing Workshop II.

My brother is so cool, he corrected me by saying that Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas is the FIFTH in the series, not the fourth. Thanks B!!!

Check out the file here!

The Effects of Violent Video Games on Children.

Let me know what you think!

~wyn

scenes...

i hate when you try to write a story when you're in front of a keyboard and nothing comes up. then, just when you're ready to take a nap on the subway or walking home from school, an epiphany occurrs.

so, alas, i have some time and i can't think of any of the scenes that have been playing through my head :(.

let me see if i can recall any of them:

no :(

ah well. maybe late tonight. i'll keep my laptop by my bed instead of a notepad ^_^

~wyn