Helping with your writer's block
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Última publicación sáb, ene 18, 2020
I have realized I cannot write books but I am great at coming up with plots and ideas for books so I'm going to help others with writer's block if you need it I will help and I will be happy to read you book after
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Do you know the times when you want to say something, but can't? Or the times when you are sad and need someone to give you a hug? The times your worst enemy hugs your boyfriend? Or the times you are so angry you punch a locker and have to pay to get it repaired? Well with writing my thoughts, passions, anger triggers, enemies, love, hatred, even happiness out for people. Makes me feel like someone can relate to me and I can impact them in any simple or complex way they deem fit. I write because I can and I become free with every word written from my mind, every letter and messed up grammar I have accidentally committed to butchering every time I write. I may not make a difference, heck, I may not even have a lot of people who read but those who do read when I write about how I thought up a story plot or something for my best friend, they will always make me feel like I'm making the difference because someone actually read what I thought at a certain time and day and maybe even listened. That's what makes me feel wanted and happy like I can do something other than run my stubborn mouth and have a mother hen personality. That is what will continue as I write. fortunately, the thing is no one can take it away either, and that my readers are what makes the mind a great thing.Concluida
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Die For You |WenClair|
The Nevermore courtyard was eerily silent, frost clinging to the edges of Enid's pastel sweater as she clutched the torn edges of a letter. The ink had bled from rain-Wednesday's precise, razor-sharp script now smudged into ghosts of words. "By the time you read this, I'll be across the continent." Enid's claws unsheathed, puncturing the paper. She could still smell the faint trace of Wednesday's bergamot and gunpowder scent on it. Flashback: Three nights prior. Wednesday had pinned her against the velvet drapes of their dorm, fingers tangled in Enid's gold-streaked hair. "Listen to me, cara mia," she'd hissed, breath hot against Enid's throat. "If they come for me, you run. You live." Enid had laughed, sharp and broken. "You're such a hypocrite. You'd burn the world for me but won't let me-" Wednesday silenced her with a kiss that tasted like blood and desperation. Present. Enid's phone buzzed-a new message from an unknown number. A single lyric from that song they'd slow-danced to in the crypts: "Baby, I would die for you, yeah." The werewolf bared her fangs at the full moon. "Oh, mon petit cauchemar," she whispered to the wind. "You idiot. I'm coming to die with you." - Note: This collection contains adult themes, including smutty encounters, angsty emotions and tender moments. Recommended for mature readers only.
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