Many people think that being a writer means not being very interactive by default. You sit there alone in your room, typing words into your computer or drawing character charts on your note pad. It’s just you and the story, no one else needed.
Well, partly those people are right, but partly they couldn’t be more wrong. As a writer, your chosen profession is to tell stories. And even though you always start off telling them only to yourself, you already dream about making them public one day, to share them with the world, with an audience. This is the moment when you start to realise that writing a story is not a lonely or self-centred project at all. It’s more like trying to start some sort of conversation. You are not just an author, not just a writer, you are also a story teller and a sender of messages. You are communicating.
And that’s exactly where things start to get difficult. Continue reading
That’s generally a very good piece of advice. Currently, I feel like I’m writing on tip toes, but I still hope those baby steps will eventually take me to a complete story.
*hugs* to all my fellow writers out there!
(just a little addition to my previous post)
And as always, it’s a very retrospective time. Don’t worry, I won’t keep you for long. I’m sure you have things to prepare, friends or family to meet and fireworks to watch.
So, what kind of year was 2015?
Well, that’s hard to pin down exactly.
For the world as a whole, it certainly wasn’t a good year. Terrorist attacks, wars, refugees, nationalist/fascist movements growing stronger and so many natural desasters – every evening I turned on the TV expecting yet another tragic or terrifying announcement. My heart sank and broke so many times that I totally lost count. My faith in humanity was at a constant low – so thanks for everyone who managed to (at least partially or temporally) restore it.
For me personally though, it was surprisingly okay year. 2015 brought some lows, but also a lot of small successes: I finished my teacher’s degree. I moved into a new (nicer and bigger) appartment. My cat Cookie – who is suffering from two chronic problems – has been doing well all year. I didn’t lose any friends or family members. And the list goes on – it’s all (more or less) small favours, but I’m very thankful for each of them.
A year ago, on New Year’s Eve 2014, I made three resolutions. Only three, and very simple ones at that, since I have a history of looking back the next year and realising I failed at least partly at everything I wanted to achieve. (Which is a common thing when it comes to resolutions, I believe ;) )
The most important resolution last year was the third one: Write, write, WRITE!
Given that I hadn’t done any serious writing in ages, I was sort of worried. But in February, I managed to get my first short story published, and soon started working on a few more (some results on whether they will be published are still pending). I joined an authors’ network where I was able to establish new contacts and make new (writing) friends. And finally, my personal highlight in November: I participated in NaNoWriMo for the first time, and ended up winning.
Currently, I’m working on another short story (crime fiction) and trying to decide whether I should do a second draft of my NaNo project (“Blood and Rain”) or return to “Solving Puzzles” in order to finally complete the first German draft. Decisions, decisions… but I bet the new year will bring a few more of those.
So my resolutions for the next year will once again be very simple. The most important one, obviously: to write even more. I hope this year will see the finished draft of a novel, and I’m doing my best to fight that nagging little voice in my head that insists it’s going to be mediocre at best.
Everyone out there, have a great start into a happy, healthy, successful, inspiring, creative and downright amazing 2016! Let this be YOUR year.
Thanks for sticking with me in 2015. You made my year, all of you.
Don’t worry, of course I don’t mean the weather outside (although I could complain about the serious lack of snow for hours. It’s winter, it’s almost Christmas, I want WHITE, not green, grey and brown!).
Instead, let’s talk about weather in a novel. Continue reading
This last week, this last Friday, something terrible happened. Of course you all know that, it has been all over the news ever since.
I feel like I can’t move on and write my NaNoWriMo Update Post unless I posted something on this matter first. But what can I even say?
Everything has already been said, by people who expressed their thoughts much better than I ever could. For me, it’s one of the rare times in life where I’m actually lost for words. And it’s not even just Paris. It’s also Beirut (which received next to no media coverage) and so many other places. As I have seen it put on several websites: “It’s not just Paris we should pray for, it is the world.”
And it makes me sad. No, sad is the wrong word. It makes me feel hollow and fragile and incredibly vulnerable. My heart is bleeding for all the victims, those dead, those injured, and those who live to face prejudism and judgement yet again. Sometimes the world is a really scary place.
I’m rightly tired of the pain I hear and feel, boss. (…) I’m tired of people bein ugly to each other. It feels like pieces of glass in my head. I’m tired of all the times I’ve wanted to help and couldn’t. I’m tired of bein in the dark. Mostly it’s the pain. There’s too much. If I could end it, I would. But I can’t.
― John Coffey in Stephen King’s “