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Anyone writing their own novel? (1 Viewer)

crazy_kitten

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I was about 20,000 words through a novel I was writing, realised it was totally crap and binned it. My friend wanted to kill me.

But I am suddenly all inspired to start writing again *bury's head in computer and begins writing.*
 

Annegelic

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i always started writing novels back in year 4 about my group of friends but never finished it.. hah i found them all recently and re-read them.. so funny. i was always into writing/reading since i was lil.. and still am, though i've only written stuff for english, HSC, etc. there's no time for personal writings.
 

persephone

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after doing ext 2 english, i thought that i could write a novel except any ideas that i have are very crap. i get to about 1000 words and then stop because i realised i have written the most cliche thing on earth. but i'm hoping that greater life experience will inspire me to write something good. hopefully.
 

Frigid

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yes but i've been putting it off for a while... no inspiration, no muse.. :(
 

crazy_kitten

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I've managed to find a potential novel... So far it only has 400 words... So yeah...

Sam stood before the bathroom mirror. He stared for an infinite period. The myriad of thoughts that were going through his head forced him to stare at his reflection, trying to see into his own soul.
Am I attracted to guys? His initial reaction was NO! But he felt a sinking feeling that the answer was yes. Why do I think it’s such a bad thing? He had a flood of memories of his friends saying things like:
“That’s gay”
“You’re gay”
“He’s gay”
“Stop being so gay”
“How gay is that!”
So that’s it? I’m gay? Just like that? Sam had a weird feeling shoot through his body, a tingling sensation. His entire world had been turned upside down in an afternoon.

Sam thought over his past. He suddenly realised that there had been many incidents in his life when he had been perving on guys, but wouldn’t admit it. His chest constricted. He felt so alone.

The slightly lopsided smile was the only clue that everything wasn’t right in his world. A salty tear slid slowly out of the corner of his eye and slid down his face. Having heightened senses the boy could feel the tears every movement.

He was so intensely concentrated on the feeling of the tear drop he didn’t notice the door open behind him. He jumped slightly when he felt arms around him. It unleashed a flood of tears. He turned into his sisters arms. She waited until the tears had stopped.
“Sam, what’s wrong?” She asked.
He took a deep breath before sighing.
“I can’t tell you.” He said.
“Sam, it’s me. I’m your sis, you can tell me anything.” She said
“No I can’t. Just leave it Jess. Please.” He said.
The pleading tone in his voice was echoed in the look he gave her. It made her physically step back. Sam took the opportunity to slip passed Jessica. He went up to his room to get away from everyone.

Shutting the door to his room added a physical barrier between Sam and the rest of the world. It seemed to be symbolic of the social barrier of his sexuality and how the rest of the world viewed it. Sam’s heart was filled with shame and disgust at and with himself. He felt restless; his room became a cage. It was a paradox; as his room was a sanctuary, it became a cage, as he felt he couldn’t leave the confines of his room.
 

lalaurenisme

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There was a brilliant documentary on teh ABC late last night tracking a writer through his progress in writing a novel. Video diaries, tantrums, meetings with pedantic editors... might cross 'becoming an author' off my list now, heh heh. I'm more of a journalist/shortstory-type myself anyway (I hope to become a journalist sometime in the future).

But that said, kudos to anyone who gives novel-writing their best shot. :)
 

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