I honestly doubt anyone on here will care about this story. But here it is anyway. The truth is, I can't write. Not that I don't want to or don't know how to make myself, it just that I can't. Believe me, I've tried. A lot. But that doesn't matter, what matters here is why. So let me start from the beginning. So hi, my name is Miah. I live in a small town in Kentucky, and no one knows me. I like Dan and Phil and Supernatural and music, but what 14 year old doesn't? About two years ago, I had an idea. It was an idea for a story, that I thought was pretty good. It was going to be about a girl who moves to a new town and makes a deal with a boy, with some angst and humor along the way. Here's where my problem came in. I wrote the first chapter, which was about 15 pages long, and then I left it there to be edited for like a week. Then, I went back and read what I had written. And before we get to what happened, let me tell you that I have a lot of self-confidence issues. I read over it, and hated every word. I sent it to my English teacher, who I absolutely adored as a writer, and he told me it was great. But I couldn't see it. I couldn't see the greatness so I wrote it off as him humoring a 12 year old and deleted the chapter. This teacher, who I won't name because privacy, was my favorite teacher of all time back then. I have a new favorite now, but that's not important. I absolutely loved this teacher, and I had over a 100% in his class. Now, by all means I'm not a suck up, I just had a passion for writing, and reading and even though his class was like 95% presentations, and I have a fear of public speaking, I excelled in there. People read my essays, hell I got voted president of a fictional country. (I might explain that later) The point is, I loved that class and respected that teacher more than any other teacher in that school. And when he told me my writing was great I thought he was lying to me. So yes, I deleted it. And then he gave us an assignment. It was really close to Halloween, and he wanted us to be comfortable with writing fiction, so he told us to write horror stories. Short stories with our own characters, own setting, and own thoughts. He gave us three days to write the story, at least 500 words. It was a breeze for me, I wrote it in the first day, and submitted it to Google Classroom. And then I went to read it again, and once again hated it. I deleted it and started over. I finished the next day, and resubmitted it. The time limit was up, and we had to read out our stories. I went last, because I still absolutely hated it. And I should've. It was horrible. My second one was ridiculously sub par too the one I had written in a day. It was less scary, less detailed, the characters had less personality, everything was worse. I didn't win the scariest story competition, and let's just say the teacher was really disappointed in me. It made me feel really crappy, and I knew that if I had read the first one I would have won. It sucked. But, in the end one of my friends won and I was extremely happy for him. We eventually turned his story into a screenplay, which was really fun. I wrote most of it, and we won that competition. Now for the fictional country and presidency and stuff. So my teacher had used this country as one of his teaching tools. It was towards the end of the year and I think it was our final grade. It was a giant project that took about 6 weeks. Basically this country called Awokaton was really crappy and had just overthrown their dictator and were going to try out democracy. Everyone in the class was running, and at the end we were going to vote for the president. I figured the main competition would be the smart kids and this other guy named Marshall. I worked my butt off in the election, it was a really fun project. Luckily for me, I lost my voice the day before wee had to do speeches, and I blamed all my messing up on that. We had to come up with stuff like an economy plan, ways to make the place more money, what things we wanted to focus on, like an army, or bringing in tourists. It was a great project and I loved doing it. I was really good at being persuasive as well, which was good. We made posters and did some really cool stuff. Towards the end we had to make a video promoting out campaign and mine was pretty awesome. The reason I'm telling this story is because that video was the first thing that I was proud of. I used the song In The End by Black Veil Brides, (he pretended to do the guitar and yelled "Mosh pit!" multiple times while flipping over desks. It was pretty funny) I put in the Kermit/Lipton Tea meme and that made everyone laugh. I put it a shout out for my friend Marissa, and I was really happy with it. The next day we voted, and I won. It made me extremely proud, for 2 reasons 1. I wasn't really a popular kid, I was known as the smartest girl in the class, and Marshall always said I would be the first women president and I had a small group of friends, not really the most popular person in the class and 2. my older sister, who was in the year above me and had done the election earlier in the year didn't win her election. Does that make me a bratty little sister? Yes, most definitely. But it also made me happy, because I thought my sister was perfect, and this made me think I was better than her in one way. I moved schools after that, in 8th grade I went to a different school. And then the writing shyness got worse. My new writing teacher was HORRIBLE! She was mean, and strict and hated everything and in first quarter I had an F in her class. She said it was because I had low reading/writing comprehension skills but my MAP scores disagree. She was just a , and it made me SO mad. She then put me in remedial classes, in which she pressed me to write all the time (I was on Twitter when she wasn't looking) and drove me insane. What didn't make it better was that the class she pulled me from had all my friends in it and I missed them all terribly. So I got my grade back up. I worked relatively hard, and she said it was because I was in the class, when in reality I just wanted to get back to Chelsey and Amanda. After a quarter, in which she was gone half the time, I got my grade up to a A-. And eventually she let me go. I was extremely happy and was welcomed back with hugs. That was a great day. My point is, I refused to write 100% for her. She got a 70% on a good day, most the time I was spaced out and really didn't care about her class at all. But, during all this, I had tried writing on here again. That extra effort had to go somewhere, and in the end I ended up trying my hardest to write a story called Keep On Wishing. It was about a girl who was a singer on YouTube, and enters a singing competition and eventually gets a boyfriend who hates her at first and then she gets kicked off and some other stuff happens. I wrote a few chapter of it and then it needed to be edited and I deleted it again. This happened a few times, and then we get to 2 months ago. I wrote a phanfiction, called A Dance That Chaged Everything. I uploaded it as a oneshot, and left it in the universe. And then I tried to write a story about my experiences with a certain event, and then I got something writers say is writers block. I had no ideas anymore. I got to a certain point in the story, read it over, lost inspiration, and gave up. Some of you might have noticed my fluctuation of stories in the past year or so. That's why. I either can't make myself post it, or I run out of inspiration. This has been a long tirade and I most likely won't post it, but if you're reading this, that's why I don't post. I am a writer, I just don't like what I write. That's the truth.
