Story…

I find I struggle to write about story, the mundane part that exists between action, the part that connects the reader to the characters, the part that must be interesting and detrimental to world building, to give the reader a true sense of being there.

It’s a riddle I hope to unlock, without it my book is doomed to fail.

While reading my book I realize there has to be more than action and strife, there must be more, something subtle to draw the reader in.

I always thought I was doing that, but it seems I was just filling space until the next action scene.

How do you write about life, things your characters do while growing individually and collectively at the same time?

This might be a question no one can answer for me, but any thoughts might help me see the light.

I feel growth as a group of characters is vital to my story… hell for that matter any story really.

The little things like school, chores, work or anything like that I fail to make it interesting. These things must be there so the reader wants to be a part of it—live it—imagine it.

Like the harry potter books, Hogwarts was the main reason readers loved those books… well in my mind at least. It was a place we all could connect with and wish we could live it… everyone who was a fan thought about going to a magical school—our minds were filled with possibilities.

I hope I can find away to make it work, or my debut as an aspiring author will be short lived.

Finally

Finally I have found my muse…

I took many hours composing horrible if not putrid prose, but I think I have overcome this for now.

I forgot how wonderful it is to write when the words flow and the story jumps from your mind in waves of splendor. Where you are a mere conduit for two mediums to transfer data, ending in a wondrous moment in time, where you start to believe in prophesy.

I hope this problem is gone for good, thou I doubt it. One thing I have learned is writing opens up our deepest fears, and tears at our soul. I begin to wonder at what point I will accept my writing for what it is and set my mind free to explore writing at its core, without fear, self-doubt, apprehension or any negative side effects.

If that day ever comes true… I don’t know if I could handle it.



Thx for all your support. I hope you never experience anything closely resembling this in your life.

All aboard for the emotional roller coaster that is writing…

Feelings

I am feeling lost every time I try and write... this is a different feeling than the ones I have had before.

Everything feels weak. I tried not to write for a week, and it has hurt rather than helped.

It’s hard to describe, it’s like trying to cook but everything looks horrible and tastes even worse. I've always been able to see the silver lining in what I do, but I just can't seem to get the groove back.


Maybe I am just trying too hard. Maybe I should rest longer than a week.

Or maybe I should do just the opposite and just write my way out.

I have felt lost before and even felt like a hack… but I always got joy from writing even if I felt it didn’t work.

Rest assured I will never quit, but I hope this ends soon.

I really don’t know if I am asking anything specific—more or less I guess I am just sharing, praying for a sign… a glimmer… anything to jump start my brain back to the love of writing regardless of the outcome.

Sorry if you read this all and had to endure it. This is not who I am… maybe that’s why it digs so deep. I have never felt self-doubt about anything (other than about my writing)—now I am swimming in it.

Thx

Redo

Ok, this probably isn't perfect but it felt better to me... at least good enough I can move on with my story. If you read my last one plz tell me what you think.


I never realized I am such a needy person. With your help maybe I can see the flaws in my work and move past them.
Thx again...





The wagon came to a halt. Tristan opened his eyes surprised he was able to fall asleep. The ride was very uncomfortable, and seemed to last a lifetime. He crawled out aching all over. He stretched and turned. One glimpse of the massive castle cleared his mind and rid his body of pain.


He leaned back so far trying to see the many turrets and balconies, he about tipped over backwards. The thousands of windows shimmered in the setting sun; the white granite structure seemed to glow. Just standing in the shadow of this mammoth structure made him fell insignificant. Massive doublewide wooden doors were larger than any doors he had ever seen, a six horse team pulling a wagon could pass through easily. If gods lived on earth this would be their home, Tristan thought.

Turning in a circle he took in every detail around the castle, he couldn’t stop smiling it was an amazing sight to behold. The round base of the castle had a massive cobblestone road surrounding it, the endless line of wagons and thousands student milling around fit with plenty of room to spare. Countless streets took off in every direction like spokes a wagon wheel.

He counted six armories, seven blacksmith shops, more horse paddocks that he could count. He tried to look at it all but it was quite overwhelming, there were seamstress shops, cooking pits, archery shops, candle makers, mason workshops. He marveled in the sounds echoing around him. The clopping hooves mixed with the tinking of chisels and the hammering of steel.

He felt stupid realizing this was a huge city not just a training center. This place dwarfed the forts he had grown up in. He tried to envision how many forts would fit in this city; it boggled the mind, his best guess maybe one hundred or even more.

The city was very clean and the smell of it was intoxicating. Tristan took a deep breath drinking in the aroma of roasting meat mingled with leather highlighted with the sweet scent of flowers, the slight hint of pine from the surrounding mountains swirled all the smells together making his mouth water.

Tristan was amazed by all the massive torches on buildings and down roads illuminating every nook and cranny. Ornate brass fittings decorated every building giving the real sense of wealth. It was a wondrous place to be, he thought. Tall archer towers poked above the roof tops of smaller structures in every direction he looked.

A loud voice snapped him back to reality. “Line up men” yelled a large boy standing in front of his wagon wearing a black leather suit.

 
 
Thx for any comment you might leave, your advice will not be wasted or over looked.

Disconnected

Lately I have second guessed everything I have written. I want to know it this description is too much. Also can you see it, when you read it does it come across right?

This is a key setting in my story and I want to get it right, and any advice will help. Thx

Don't be afraid to leave negative comments... I can take it--any comment is better than no comment.






The wagon came to a halt. Tristan opened his eyes feeling stiff and sore. Pale sunlight and the orange glow of torches filled his vision. The group of students climbed out and stretched their legs. Tristan looked around in awe. Turning in a circle he took in every detail, he couldn’t stop smiling it was an amazing sight to behold. The first thing to grab his attention was the massive tubular castle that seemed to stretch to the heavens. He leaned his head back so far trying to see the many turrets and balconies, he about tipped over backwards. The thousands of windows shimmered in the setting sun; the white granite structure seemed to glow. Massive doublewide wooden doors were larger than any doors he had ever seen, a six horse team pulling a wagon could pass through easily. If gods lived on earth this would be their home, Tristan thought.

The round base of the castle had a massive cobblestone road surrounding it, the endless line of wagons and thousands student milling around fit with plenty of room to spare. Countless streets took off in every direction like spokes a wagon wheel. He counted six armories, seven blacksmith shops, more horse paddocks that he could count. He tried to look at it all but it was quite overwhelming, there were seamstress shops, cooking pits, archery shops, candle makers, mason workshops. He marveled in the sounds echoing around him. The clopping hooves mixed with the tinking of chisels and the hammering of steel. He realized this was a huge city not just a training center. This place dwarfed the forts he had grown up in. He tried to envision how many forts would fit in this city; it boggled the mind, his best guess maybe one hundred or even more. The city was very clean and the smell of it was intoxicating, roasting of meat mingled with the smell of leather and sweet scent of flowers swirled through the light pine scented breeze. Massive torches on buildings and down roads illuminated every nook and cranny. Ornate brass fittings decorated every building giving the real sense of wealth. It was a wondrous place to be, he thought. Tall archer towers poked above the roof tops of smaller structures in every direction he looked.

A loud voice snapped him back to reality. “Line up men” yelled a large boy standing in front of his wagon wearing a black leather suit.



thx for any comment you might leave...

Just wrote this... what ya think?

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I have no doubt I have some grammar problems. But when you read this do you get a sense of it? Thx.


Removed.......Thx for the comments.