Describing...

So, I noticed this morning that I am really terrible at describing things eloquently. This upsets me, since I would love to write a book someday, and every time I try to begin a story, not only do I get writer's block or write myself into a corner, the story ends up being really really short because I lack the proper ability ot describe things. So, for the rest of the week, I will have a short part of my post in which I will describe something that I can see or have seen. It is your job to determine what it is and comment such. Maybe this will help me get used to describing things. Oh, and I will try not to be too poetic about it, because that could get confusing.

They once were trees. But now they sit there so silently. They have been changed from their original form. Murdered, some might say, but only for the betterment of all humanity. So many of them, it would take a computer to keep track of them all. But now, though they are still trees, in some form, they bring so much more to those who touch them, see them, and hear them. All sizes sit in a room, waiting to be opened. They no longer look like trees, for they have colors of all sorts in and on them. Bright blues of an August sky ranging to the bloody reds of battle. Carefully, oh so carefully stacked and placed and organized by number, letter, color, age, importance. The smell of age sits inside, waiting to be given as a gift to the next person to open the covers of these no-longer-trees. And on each sliver of wood, letters swirl into words and words into sentences, and on and on into stories and lives and facts. I waltzed into their dwelling place and snatched a few from their homes. Quick glances, then I placed them back. One after another, flying in and out of my hand until I found the right one. The right shape and color. The perfect weight in my hand. The vanilla-like smell swam through the air, bringing pleasure to my senses. This was the one. Whatever story or life or lesson contained within would soon be mine. A part of me never to be forgotten. A journey to go on once, but never to return, for the journey is never as fun the second time. A few clicks of a keyboard, a beep, and the blunt smashing sound of a rubber stamp on paper. And off I was, onward to fulfill another Great Perhaps.

Okay, did you get it? Leave it in the comments below if you did, and tell me how you thought my description was and how it could be improved. By the way, I stole the "Great Perhaps" part from John Green, who had stolen it from Francois Rabelais. Not really stolen, on either account, but I feel like using that word.

I think that I need to follow the advice of John Green and find an Ilene. I know that they don't have to be named Ilene, but whatever,

For those of you who don't know about John Green and Ilene, Ilene is the person who has basically been the editor, encourager, and book writer helper person for John when he was writing his books. He credits he not only in the books, but also in one of his videos. He says that she basically helped him turn a book idea into something real. I need this kind of person  who can look over my stuff and not be afraid to say "this is crap" or, "why don't you do this instead" or "this is actually pretty good... so far". Most of the time, when I start writing, I just go with it, and I end up not showing anyone because I either think its terrible or begin to get discouraged or run out of ideas. I need someone to help me figure out how to continue. I need an Ilene. Presumably, someone who has done stuff like book writing before and could act almost as a mentor. If you or someone you know is interested in filling this position, please contact me. Or, if you think we could co-write a book, that would be cool also.

I can not count how many of my stories have just died because I thought they stunk or I wrote in the wrong direction and into a corner. In fact, this has pretty much happened with all of my stories.

One of my favourite stories of all time was one that I co-wrote with my brother. Basically, it was a story of our many adventures and games during childhood, which went through the different worlds and themes of different video games that we were into at the time. Tak and the power of juju. Super mario sunshine. Lord of the rings. Luigi's mansion. We pretty much included everything. I really wish that I could find the rough draft so that I could get him to work on it some more with me. I think I may look for it when I go home tonight, or maybe even bring up the idea of re-writing it.

My brother and I used to write stories all of the time. They were all pretty epic. One time we even started writing a play. We would sit down with a bunch of notebook paper and start throwing out ideas. Then, once we got started, he would say the story aloud and I would write it down, throwing in ideas and tweeking the vocabulary here and there to make it better. The video game story had like 20 or more pages, and we weren't even half done. The play that we worked on was only about 5 or 10 pages, but it was pretty cool also. It had people turning into wolf-like monsters and the main character having to fight them off while trying to find a cure.

Gosh, I HAVE TO FIND THOSE STORIES!!!!!

So, I think I will go do something semi-productive now, since there are only 10 minutes left in class. DFTBA!

Love,
Elizabeth W.