Showing posts with label Creative Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Creative Writing. Show all posts
To all the books I've loved before, thank you. Thank you for the thousands of evenings I spent page-turning, till my eyes were drooping from the lack of sleep. You gave me story after story; the chance to meet many different characters over the course of 300+ pages. Each chapter holding new promise, new beginnings. From the stories that hooked me from the very first page to the slow burners that burned my curiosity, I've never been more grateful. Always something to gain, always something to appreciate.
Thank you for introducing me to the world beyond my own point of view. You opened my eyes to the world around me and gave me an appreciation for the milestones yet to come. That insight into someone else's life helped prepare me for the friends and people I had yet to meet. Their lives, their ambitions so different from my own, yet our core beliefs so similar. Meeting characters from all walks of life and diving deep into their lives from their perspective. Priceless.
You introduced me to a community of fiction lovers, who I could share sequel theories with and fangirl with. You helped me develop my own creativity. The ten-year-old me swore creative writing was something I'd never do, traumatised from school activities clearly. And yet the words on a page inspired me to pick up pen and paper, and write with passion. To draw fragments of imagination and bring them to life through words.
To all the books I've loved before - I'm forever indebted to you. I can't recall how many evenings I've spent reading your pages or reminiscing over characters I've long said goodbye to. As the years pass by, it's time for me to finally let you go. I'm sad to see you go - to intentionally box you up with no return to your home, my shelves. But to keep you from the hands of someone who'll appreciate you more is cruel. Why let the dust cover your spine, when I know someone else is dying to read your words? I know the next person who chooses you will get exactly what they need. A home away from home. A companion in their dark days. An escape from reality.
This is my Ode to you.
Oh you look like you're new here. Let me fill you in on the details ... I was once the new kid on the block, and trust me when I say this, you're lucky to have me on your side kiddo. You see East High isn't like other schools. Now you may be thinking I'm crazy here, but seriously, this school is run on a tight-ship. We have a status quo, one that can not be messed with. Unless you want to deal with queen-bee Sharpay Evans that is. She may look innocent from far, but she's as feisty and fierce as you come.
Follow these golden rules and your time at East High shall be a breeze!
They call us millennials. Lazy with technology at our fingertips they say. No clue about the meaning of life; wasting our time away. The lost generation absorbed in our mobiles and trending memes. We don't know how good we have it. And that's what it may seem on the outside, but we are so much more than that.
We're the underdogs on a mission.
London has always been sort of an enigma to me. Several months ago, all I knew of this city was its residential cul-de-sacs and suburban roads, leading to family and family friend's houses. Through visiting over the years, I had been so close to the centre - the pulsing heart of the country, - but yet had bypassed its core. That was until January when I packed up my bags and left for the big city.
Since then, I've been thoroughly inducted as a Londoner. Long gone are the fresh doe eyes as I awoke every morning to take the tube to central, surrounded by natives who could barely notice my excitement through their sleepy daydreams. Instead of pausing to gaze in awe on my journey to work, I now briskly rush down its street and into the dark tunnels of the underground tube system. I zoom past other faces of people I've never known before in solidarity, as we all focus on our own destinations. But there are many times, I still find myself deeply fascinated. I pause midway and begin to admire the beauty of this city. On the surface I may be a Londoner, but my heart beats as a tourist, seeing this city for the first time all over again.
It's that time of year. November is coming, and NaNoWriMo is upon us. After taking part in NaNoWriMo last year, I learnt a lot from the experience and decided to offer some advice to the newcomers taking on the task this year. Writing is such an intricate task, and everyone's writing process differs significantly. There's no set way of writing a novel. Some prefer to create outlines of everything they've ever written. Others prefer to write the whole story in chronological order. And the rest? Well, we tend to write the whole thing out of order and pray to God is comes together - sooner rather than later!
I truly encourage every single one of you to take part in this - weather you write 50,000 words or even 5000. There's a real spirit and dedication that comes from taking part in this event, and it's so worth the pain and tears. I encourage you to make this time your own, and use it to your advantage. So my fellow writers, without further ado, here a few ways you can prepare for this year's NaNoWriMo!
I'm homesick for a place that just doesn't exist. My heart lies divided in two places. The place I grew up in, and the place I live in. They both hold memories dear to me. My childhood home holds my friends and my family. Those evenings we spent by the park, playing around the swings and talking about moments in our teenage lives. Those days spent watching movies around the dinner table, with a bowl of my mother's homemade chilli popcorn shared between my parents and I. Now my world holds the independence I always longed for, but never could find in that old hometown of mine. It comes with it's own structure and responsibilities - words my young teenage-self use to avoid like the plague. Instead of waiting for my mother's home made dinners, I create my own with recipes I've discovered on the internet. I make my own flavours with sauces and peppers from the local supermarket across the road. Life is different now. I love it. I do. But then ...
Then comes the feeling of nostalgia. Old friends and places I no longer can visit. Roads that use to be 10 minutes away - within the grasp of my feet - are now three hours away, down a long road which I can not follow. Going back wouldn't help - since people are scattered and following their own path miles away. So I look ahead and find unfamiliar but friendly faces to converse with and become companions on the journey ahead. We talk and we laugh - long hours into the night. With words spoken, and thoughts unsaid. Memories in the making, changing our statuses from acquaintances to friends over time. It does not replace, but it helps to erase, that lingering ghost that calls me to look upon my shoulder, at memories from years before. I still reminisce, but not as much as before. This place I'm living in is slowly becoming my home.
So torn between the world I live in and the world I grew up in. I'm missing a place that doesn't truly exist anymore. So I call up my friends in this new town I've been calling home, and decide to have a movie marathon till 2am to take away these home felt blues. And in those moments I know, it'll pass. As I look upon the faces of the people I have come to know, I feel a tenderness that can only be described as being home. And then I truly know. That one day, I no longer will be homesick. I'll just be content with this small little place I've come to live.
* * * * *
Inspired by my own university experience, I decided to create something that was poetically reminiscent of that time frame of when you're in transition. That period of time, when you've moved to a new town - far from your hometown - and are being to create a new life there. Even if you haven't experienced it just yet, you may do some day. Weather it's for university, a job in a foreign city, or maybe you'll be married and moved to a different country. It's human nature to look back over our shoulders at the past, whilst still trying to creating memories and moments in the present. Who knows maybe you can relate?
I hope you enjoy it! Any thoughts?
When I turned 22 almost two weeks ago, I couldn't help but reminisce on past birthday's. In those young years, I remember the excitement that each birthday held as I turned a year older, and the anticipation of gifts and birthday wishes from friends and family alike. I remember being roughly 10 years old, and declaring to the people around me that I was 10 and a half. I also remember being terribly annoyed if anyone said anything otherwise. But yet somehow as we get older, we find ourselves reluctant to state our ages - with no mentions of in between fractions. We feel glad and blessed if we look younger than what we actually are, as opposed to older. As time passes we vividly embrace those memories that bring us closer to so called detrimental nostalgia, that stops us from seeing the positives yet to come. Here comes my theory called the Peter Pan Effect.
Fictional characters are more than just people in a book or on screen. They are people who come to life through the words on a page, through images on screen, through facial expressions and hand gestures. They are characters who you struggle with, through their dark times, and cheer with through their happy days. They are the people you look up to. They are the more than just fictional. To the fans, they are so much more than that. Fictional characters aren't just fictional. They are people you've never met and never will. But they are also people you've known for so long. You've grown up watching their lives unfold alongside yours, and you can't help but feel attached to them. You've grown up watching them grow as individuals and mature into adults. You've witnessed the situations they have been in, and you've been there alongside them. You've felt their anguish, their pain through all the drama and conflicts they've been through. And when they're heartbroken, you feel that sinking feeling in your chest too, weighing you down. You relish in their happiness, and can not help how elated you feel for them, because they truly deserve it after everything they've been through.
You've seen them through their best and very worst - their true vulnerable self stripped of all their invincible make-up, that raw emotion and sense of self they reveal when alone in the depths of the shadows in their silent homes at night. You've followed their journeys, and discovered something new about yourself in the process - who you aspire to be, who you don't want to be, what direction you want to take in life, and who you want to be there in that moment when you're dreams are coming true. You've formed bonds with them, people that have never existed, but yet they do. The place they've lived in becomes home to you. You've watched them go through their lives, and anticipated the direction of their lives will take alongside them. They've taught you the meaning of true happiness through their painstaking troubles, the strength of friendships under the constrains of reality and staying true to yourself by keeping your morals in check when tested on by the hand of others. These individuals have seen you through part of your life. They are long lost friends that you greet in passing when you visit their realities. And they will always stay with you, no matter how long after you've turned the last page of their chapter.
I love to write, because there is nothing more exciting and infuriating, as organising your incoherent thoughts and putting them to paper. I love to write, because there is always a challenge involved in the process, weather its perfecting a particular sentence, finding the right adjectives to describe the atmosphere, or creating the perfect setting to describe a particular scene, for the characters you've crafted together in the depths of your mind. I love to write, because in my over active imagination, I dream up a different reality to my own life, and characters that either resemble or differ from the people I know in my everyday life. I love to write, because I get to meet and craft new characters who I've never known before. I love to write, because exploring these characters through the actions they take, and the way they conduct themselves in their fictional realities, can be so entertaining and fulfilling. I love to write because my imagination can take me anywhere; its a place where I am able to create fictional worlds, where almost anything is possible - just believing is key.
I love to write, because it is a chance for me to explore my thoughts and feelings, in a place far away from judging eyes and hushed whispers - a place where I am heard and where my voice is always key. I love to write, because I'm able to document the ever changing thoughts and emotions I find myself entangled in. I love to write, because it's my way of making sense of the world, through exploring the nature of people and their characteristics, by seeing their relationships develop between other characters, their passions and attitudes towards the things in life, and their interest in the world around them. I love to write because it gives me the opportunity, to speak to millions through the words of language, and share a platform of discussion with the unique minds of many. Without words after all, how on earth would we be able to communicate?
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"Isn't it amazing that for three short minutes you are able to be transported to another world without even moving from your seat? How you are able to enter a virtual world purely created by your imagination and the lyrics and tempo of the chosen song so instantly."
I love thinking about everyday mundane things. There is just something so beautiful about the world, and people going about their everyday lives. Sometimes it's hard because you're having a bad day, or maybe you're stressed out about something that has yet to happen. Music has the priorities to really change your day around, and I know for me it's done that plenty of times. I can't tell you how many times a particular song has given me inspiration or courage just for those three short minutes. To read more, please click here.
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