I often have a difficult time just sitting down and writing, specifically when it comes to writing any sort of short story, it truly baffles me. Stories float around in my head, bending and warping, and they just sort of sit there. I don't really touch them. Occasionally I may pick one out and start to write it but once I've started the act of writing, the story goes away and I can no longer think on it.
This poses a real big problem for me. I want to write novels that people cherish and enjoy reading but I am wholly unable to focus on something quite so lengthy. This blog is really a place for me to experiment with my writing style and try to find things that work for me. I'm quite able to write personal thoughts down without any effort and on occasion I can write down small editorial-esque type pieces. I am proud of my writing, I feel that it is strong, well written and concise, but I need more practice with fiction.
I've devised a plan that will hopefully alleviate the issue of forcing stories out of my head by working on them more slowly and over a long period of time. Very much the same thing that Charles Dickens did with many of his novels. Though I don't have a particular public outlet, other than here, for any sort of exposure. I am hoping though, that regardless of whether anyone reads my stories, this method will allow me to work on a singular piece until it's completion.
Depending on how my day turns out I may kick things off tonight with a fresh story that started brewing in my head this morning. It's a bit of a departure for me in terms of subject, but then again I do like to float around with different ideas until one makes sense to me.
Showing posts with label crow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crow. Show all posts
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
From Sparrow to Crow pt.1
One rather cold winter's day a new life was welcomed into the world. A little sparrow by the name of Atlas emerged from his sun bleached egg, squeaking and chirping, ready to take on the world. Unlike many other birds he was lucky enough to have both his mother and father stick around long enough to try and help him into his majestic flying adulthood.
Atlas was a rather average sparrow in terms of distinction; he had hatched with his father's brown fluffy feather and his mother's pearly white beak. Behind his cold black eyes however laid the intelligence of a bird far beyond that of his fellow hatchlings. His mother and father both lauded his intelligence as they were certain that he would bring great happiness to his nest. He quickly learned to fly and scavenge for insects while also developing an extraordinary habit of tidiness.
The nest he called home was always considerably cleaner than that of the other birds in the tree and much of what his own doing. He took great enjoyment in being a bit of a star amongst the other birds and tried his best not to let them down. One day however, he met his downfall after observing some of the older birds a few branches above him.
He wasn't always the most liked by the other sparrows his age, they saw him as an outcast with his impeccably white beak and his fluffy brown feathers. The others had darker beaks and their feathers so much more rough than his and they flaunted it in front of him. He began to retreat inside himself and stuck more closely to the family of birds in his nest while observing the other birds. He thought maybe if he did what the older birds did, that the sparrows his age would be more kind.
He watched as the older birds began to feed more freely on the food that people would drop for them instead of scavenging on insects like the others did. He watched how they would act in increasingly stupid ways to garner the attention of the humans and then how the humans took such enjoyment from it and fed them without any hesitation. One day he decided he too would feast upon the peoples gifts and hope to impress the other sparrows with his courageous and frivolous tricks.
He eventually worked up the courage to perform his first trick and immediately became hooked on the delicious morsels of bread and cake that the humans would leave for him. He kept it to himself at first, realizing that it was frowned upon, but eventually became too caught up in the game that his act was found out. His family was not happy with him and tried to reform him by forcing him to wait silently and wait for the bugs rather than feed upon the instant gratification of the people's food.
[to be continued]
Atlas was a rather average sparrow in terms of distinction; he had hatched with his father's brown fluffy feather and his mother's pearly white beak. Behind his cold black eyes however laid the intelligence of a bird far beyond that of his fellow hatchlings. His mother and father both lauded his intelligence as they were certain that he would bring great happiness to his nest. He quickly learned to fly and scavenge for insects while also developing an extraordinary habit of tidiness.
The nest he called home was always considerably cleaner than that of the other birds in the tree and much of what his own doing. He took great enjoyment in being a bit of a star amongst the other birds and tried his best not to let them down. One day however, he met his downfall after observing some of the older birds a few branches above him.
He wasn't always the most liked by the other sparrows his age, they saw him as an outcast with his impeccably white beak and his fluffy brown feathers. The others had darker beaks and their feathers so much more rough than his and they flaunted it in front of him. He began to retreat inside himself and stuck more closely to the family of birds in his nest while observing the other birds. He thought maybe if he did what the older birds did, that the sparrows his age would be more kind.
He watched as the older birds began to feed more freely on the food that people would drop for them instead of scavenging on insects like the others did. He watched how they would act in increasingly stupid ways to garner the attention of the humans and then how the humans took such enjoyment from it and fed them without any hesitation. One day he decided he too would feast upon the peoples gifts and hope to impress the other sparrows with his courageous and frivolous tricks.
He eventually worked up the courage to perform his first trick and immediately became hooked on the delicious morsels of bread and cake that the humans would leave for him. He kept it to himself at first, realizing that it was frowned upon, but eventually became too caught up in the game that his act was found out. His family was not happy with him and tried to reform him by forcing him to wait silently and wait for the bugs rather than feed upon the instant gratification of the people's food.
[to be continued]
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