I shook my head, clearing it of the thoughts that were tormenting my mind.
I chuckled to myself, thinking to myself, "wow I must be a pretty amazing author to be able to scare myself like that". I looked around my room, at the black and white bedspread that covered my bed, at the silver and gold wallpaper that swirled across my walls.
I couldn't help thinking that my writing style didn't match the way my room looked at all. My room seems much happier then my writing style.
The orphan story is one of my favorite projects. It reflects all of my feelings into words that I could never say in the real world.
I am just a normal person. Going to school, spending time with family, writing, and staying out of trouble. Though sometimes I have a little trouble with the last one.
I was sitting at my writing desk, I pushed off it and let my chair take me in a few circles until I was just a little dizzy. I guess you could say that I had a bit of writers block.
This never happens to me. Words normally flow right through me and onto the pages that I am working on. But this one was different.
This one required something different. Something that I wasn't sure I had in me. I needed help, ideas that weren't my own. A new outlook on my writing. Because this one, I simply could not write on my own.
Now the only question I have to ask is who? Who should I ask to help? None of the people I knew understood my writing. Maybe I need help finding help.