Reasons Why To Write A Story

So, it’s been over a week now and no update. You should know why.

So, last major paper tomorrow and then I have a mental on Friday, probably. Everything’s going okay – I’m just having to study at every possible moment and I’ve just taken a break to post a message. Next week, everything will be back to normal. Some of the next chapter is already written. It just needs to be finished and there needs to be a song and stuff. So, updates may be coming some time next week. I’ll try and finish it for then.

I think I’m getting a cold … that was random.

Another thing. On Sunday, I found myself in a really bad way. I won’t go into details but it was a stupid little thing that set me off and I found myself in my mom’s room while she was out, sitting on the window sill so my feet were on the roofing bit there. The sun was shining and I was just overly upset. For a few minutes, I spent my time talking to my Edward as if he were real and it really helped. No joke. I just felt like I could say anything, no matter how stupid it was. Edward only talked a few times (Well, I made him talk in my head a few times, obviously).

Now, this sounds incredibly retarded but it actually really helped me so I could get off my ass and do some work. So, this is what I want to say. When, you’re incredibly upset or just a bit depressed or just a little low, talking to someone. Someone you control. Anyone can write a story or a book. Anyone. And not only will your readers benefit from it, you will, too. Everytime someone sends you a message saying how much they love your story, it makes you feel so happy. Everytime you get loads of hits in one day, it makes you feel so happy. The sense of achievement that you’ll get when you finish that book. I can’t explain it myself because I haven’t finished a book yet but I’m getting there. And I can’t wait ’til I get that teary excitement where I feel a real sense of achievement. I can’t wait for the moment I can tell my dad, and my step sister that I’ve actually written a whole book.

And, more importantly in my opinion, I love it that at anytime I can talk to someone – either Edward, or Summer, or Matt. Yikes, even Jessica or Ingrid. When I’m by myself, even though I feel silly and retarded at first, I can get a lot off my chest by talking to someone who can’t answer with something harsh or hurtful. I can confide in someone whose answers I control and, even though they can’t give advice, they’re still real.

I wish they were real people, like me and you, but they’re not completely. They’re always real in our heads though. And as long as they are, they’re as good as real people.

In fact, they are real people.

So, just think. If you ever consider writing a book. Do it. There really isn’t a good reason not to.

I’m gonna get back to revision so au revior!



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