introductiontomymind-blog

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Writing a Story: Planning prt 2

If you’re going to plan, make sure you don’t tie yourself down with millions of notes about character appearance or binders full of fabric samples. Most of your knowledge can be stored in your cranial cookie jar.

This part will focus on the technical side of writing. Arcs, Plot, and Pacing are all tools a writer needs to create a story worth reading and also help control the story.

Plot

This is the spine of your story but it can never be a solid thing. Plot is flexible while you are writing. It changes and grows and you must be prepared for it. Plot is the main vein of your tale. Sit down and write down the main plot in three sentences or less

Harry Potter is an orphan wizard who attends wizard school and is pursued by Lord Voldemort as he grows up on account of the prophecy foretold.

Ethan Wate falls in love with Lena Duchannes, finding out she’s a witch and that dark forces threaten to tear their love apart and force his love into choosing evil and good.

A Song of Ice and Fire chronicles the story of a war torn Westeros where rival kings fight for the Iron Throne against a backdrop of magic, murder, fratricide, plotting and incest all the while as a supernatural force marches on the world to bring an eternal winter.

This way you can find about your Plot Points. These are the bullet points of your story. There are the pillars of a story, the support of the overall story. Subplots have already been reviewed on another post, so check that out if you want.

Arcs

A story arc is the progression of a story. The Pokémon evolution if you will. A story is not a straight line. It is round, the bitch gots curves. Throw something in the air. It begins and rises until it reaches its pinnacle and then rapidly falls. That is how a story lives. A story arc can span a chapter, a book or a series. Here are some examples.

Hamlet: Mopey Prince = Guy pretending to be mad and making stupid plans= Vengeful nutcase who causes the death of everyone.

Hunger Games: Katniss Volunteers for sister and goes to Capitol= The Games= After the games.

Pacing

Pace yo'self. Seriously. Calm the fuck down. But not too much. Timing is of the essence and is the key to good stories. A story’s events are set out according to how fast-paced you want your novel. Fast-paced screams action, thriller, suspense, slut drop. Medium paced are for longer books. Slow-paced may make a reader want to burn a book because the story is buffering.

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It’ll be okay.

For now, I just have to be alone. No ones favorite person. No one’s first priority. That will change in the future. It has to.

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lonely. (II)

How is it that I always want to be alone, but I’m always lonely?

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I deserve better... don’t I?

Don’t I deserve better than friends who forget I exist? Who don’t care about me, who choose others over me, who make it like I’m the problem or the bad guy?

I’m always the first person to say things will always get better, but will they?

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Invisible (2)

Walk into school. 

No one acknowledges me. 

No one says hi to me.

No one looks at me.

Those same people have the nerve to say I’m wrong or overreacting. Put yourself in my shoes. What if people really treated you like you were INVISIBLE. It hurts. Take the 2 seconds out of your life to say hello and ask how I am. I say hi and all I get is a faint nod or a glance. 

It hurts.

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Do I want to die, or do I simply want the pain to go away?

I think now would be a great time to talk about this. I am constantly thinking about it. In my life, I have contemplated suicide more times than I am ready to admit. I have sat on my bed in the middle of the nights with a ton of different pills laid out and had them all ready for me to take. Most of the time, I’m happy I never took them, but then other times I wish I had.

So this got me thinking. If I’m so unhappy to the point where I want everything to end, why would I be happy with not having taken them at one point?

Because, as fucking cheesy as this quote is “Life is like a rollercoaster.”

It really is. There will be points in your life where you feel like nothing can bring you down, then in one second, everything will come crashing down.

I often feel like no matter what I do, what I say, nothing will ever work out how I want it to and I always end up miserable and alone. Mentally alone and physically alone.

So, back to the question, Do I want to die, or do I just want the pain to go away?

Death is too final. When I feel like I really really want to end it all, I go to sleep and pretend as if I will never wake up. I really convince myself that once I go to sleep, I will never wake up. Sometimes it scares me, but most of the time I’m able to sleep. When I wake up, usually I feel good about not being dead. However, there are times were I’m disappointed that I’ve woken up.

Little disclaimer, in no way, am I planning on hurting myself at any point, this blog is just meant for people to relate and realize that other people feel the same way as them.

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Self Confidence Issues. (1)

Before I start, let’s be real, nearly everyone is self-conscious to a certain extent.

So, there I am standing at a party two nights ago. I was sipping my drink, and as I began to get tipsy I said to myself: “Self, if you know nothing you want to happen won’t, why do you care so much? Why do you care when you know you shouldn’t?” Now, granted, it made much more sense in my state at the time. But when I really thought about it, it’s true. Why do I care so much about things I know will never happen? This specific thought was about a boy, so teenage of me, I know. But it does apply to most things in my life.

Anyway, this boy who doesn’t go to my school, whom I’ve never met, but follow on social media. I know I have absolutely no reason to think he would ever approach me, and even in my state, I still didn’t have the guts to do it, so why would I think anything would happen.

Then the more I think about it, this is a self-confidence issue. Will he think I’m too ugly? Too short? Too weird? Too loud? Too annoying? By the time I was able to psych myself up enough to at least say hi, he had already left.

The next day, I realized that wasn’t the point. The point was that I don’t have enough confidence to approach anyone on my own. Sober or not. It’s not even about him, it’s about everyone. Why do I care so much, but I won’t do anything to help myself?

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Section I: Invisible (1)

Do you ever wonder what it’s like to be a ghost? To be invisible? Now imagine this:

You’re living in New York, the best city in the world, filled with millions of people. My entire life I have never truly fit in. Yes, I’ve been in friend groups and have friends, but I’ve never been anyone's priority. No one has ever cared, loved, or appreciated me as much as I did them in my entire life. Sad, I know, but true.

When I’m out with my friends, I feel like I’m just there. There have so many times where someone says they forgot I was there, or that I existed. It’s like having an out of body experience, or watching a show. Being invisible is not as fun as it seems, I never understood why people would want invisibility as their one superpower.

All I want is to find someone who wants, loves and appreciates me as much as I do them. It feels impossible. Being happy feels impossible.

My friends say it’s in my head or that I’m being stupid, but I could see it. Either they’re lying or don’t realize what they’re doing. I’m constantly made fun of, not thought of or yelled at. I understand they joke around, but it’s different with me. They would all choose each other over me.

Now, I’m not totally blaming them. It has been every friend I’ve ever had. Here we go getting into the self-depriving stuff, but who could really blame them? All jokes aside, I annoy myself. I don’t like my personality, and no matter what I try, I can't change it. I shouldn’t hate myself, and no one else should.

You know what else sucks? Being forgotten. There have been so many times where my friends have forgotten to tell me things or forgot I was in the room or the car. It makes me feel absolutely horrible because no one ever forgets they exist. It’s like I’m meant to be forgotten.

When I die, will people forget I ever existed? Will anyone visit my grave? Will anyone miss me? Will anyone even care? In my mind, if they forgot I was there while i’m still alive, will they know when I’m dead?

Little disclaimer, in no way am I planning on hurting myself at any point, this blog is just meant for people to relate and realize that other people feel the same way as them.