Don't Laugh

And in that moment, there were only three things that I was absolutely sure about.

First, her name was Abigail.

Second, somewhere, deep inside of her -
having been cultivated since birth-
she coveted a happy ending.

And third, there was no chance of me giving it to her.

Pfft. I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. This came into my mind while listening to the 50 Taylor Swift songs of my iPod on repeated shuffle (Don't judge me) after a few story ideas popped into my head. And I admit: I'm pretty darn close to actually doing this. Which is saying something.

Just a couple of short story entries. Nothing much. And they'll mostly revolve around Abigail but maybe a few other people in her life and then maybe a few randoms to give it some color.

I kind of already hate Abigail from what I fleshed out from her character. Idk, it's just that I don't like her type. I tend to choose to write about someone I don't like. I think it keeps me from MarySue-ifying them.

ButButBut Abigail is a Sue! Her middle name is Mary! (Which I just decided while typing that sentence) She is every cliche in the book and she wants every cliche in the book. And while her people surrounding her are more GenreSavvy (I've been troping too much) so I like that conflict they have. But I don't want the reader to hate her. I want her very likable, maybe even pitied.

This is how I write really. I just go out there and bam. Something, anything, inspires thoughts. And then I think those through until I get somewhere. And I'll already be halfway thinking something out when I realize it has potential. There will be a line or a paragraph or a title or something that will click and then I'm like, "There's something in that." And I don't always realize it. That's why I talk things to my memo recorder. I can't tell if something's gold. I have a document that's just lines or phrases or ideas that makes me go, "That's good," just in case I get something from that someday. But, usually, when I write something down, it just doesn't read write and that what keeps me from writing things down. I blame my handwriting. And I'm easily distracted. Even right now, I keep going between writing ideas down, writing this, playing Burrito Bison, listening to music, and focusing on the television.

"That's your problem right there! Life's not a movie and you can't script everything out, you petty control-freak"

^^^Example^^^

I talk things out. I expand and expand and expand and just detail things. Without even thinking, I know the character's favorite flavour of ice cream and why and what kind of colors they prefer and whether or not they're a White Sox fan.

But, my kind of writing is involuntary. I can't sit down and just come up with idea. But when I have one, little stuff will appear everywhere.

Stories play like movies in my head and depending on my feeling, I know whether or not certain details. For a story I've been writing for 2 years, I still have no idea who the protagonist's boyfriend is. His face is blurred and I can't hear people call his name. But when I figure a piece out, the fog clears.

Hm. This went from being about the little Twilight thing to a rant about me writing. Meph.