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Inspiration In All Places
My problem: I get an idea, and before Iāve even attempted it, I talk myself out of it. Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā
Itās probably been done before:
True, it likely has. Has it been done by you though? Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā
Itās stupid, no one will like it:
No one? Thatās a lot of ground to cover, isnāt it? Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā
It wonāt be perfect:
Youāre right. It wonāt, because it can never be perfect.
The idea for this blog hit me when I was supposed to be writing, but instead, found myself in the black hole that is You Tube. (Also see: Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat, or even Google Search.) What Iām getting at is this: When itās time to sit down and write, suddenly anything can become entertaining. Ā Cat videos Ć¼ Makeup Tutorials Ć¼What I eat in a day Ć¼It gets pretty ridiculous, quickly. (Reasons, besides the obvious that this is a waste of time: My cats are cuter than any on the internet, I barely wear makeup, and Iām assuming itās some sort of food, like any normal human would eat.)
Itās not that I donāt want to do it. Write. I do. I just donāt think I can do it justice. My grand ideas suddenly become mediocre and Iāve already deemed myself unworthy before the first letter hits the page.
Words are intimidating. Or in my case, the lack of them is intimidating. That bright white, close to blinding, far too empty Word Document (yes, I capitalize it, because it is that important and daunting, much like a final boss in a video game).
I was watching a music video of a song that had come up several times on my Pandora station, and it hit me how far inspiration can reach.
Was this the best song Iād ever heard?
No.
Did it have an effect on me?
Yes, for whatever reason it did. (Iām not getting into the justification of it. Just trust me when I say, that at the time, it affected me.)
I was prepared. I knew what I was going to do. I had my own story to tell. It wasnāt the lyrics in this case, but the visuals, the actual video itself. Ā I donāt know what the artistās story was. It didnāt seem clear to me (probably drugs), but there was something there. And I was going to write it.
Wasnāt I?
With my best intentions, the answer is
Yes.
I failed myself five minutes later, when I was staring at the aforementioned Word Document, and my parasitic worry took over.
What if people found the idea stupid? Or worse, what if they found the song stupid? What if they couldnāt understand what I saw in it in the first place? What if, my taste in music turned people off, and they refused to read another thing I wrote ever?
First off, Iām not going to flatter myself. Iām not that powerful: to turn droves of people off with one post? Who do I think I am?
Secondly, who cares? All of these questions didnāt need to be answered, and really didnāt even need to be explored, or brought up in the first place.
Iām not going to pretend itās the best or most clever idea.
The most important thing is that it hasnāt been done by me.
My weakest point is no follow through. And Iām ending that cycle now.
Another long night and sleep had eluded her. Lyla sat in bed, cross legged. Her body ached, and the four walls of her bedroom no longer felt safe. Disappear, she whispered, wishing for a moment that it was only her in the world. The television at the side of her bed, alive with static, swallowed her words, camouflaging them in the gray, and went black. Silence blanketed the room and an ear popping pulse took over. The door of her bedroom was closed, but the house rumbled with the buzz of her roommates and friends. The television came alive in a quick flicker, the tail end of a used car commercial. āHere, you get exactly what you want,ā said the man, with a wink. The volume reached max, and a din of music took over. Ā Lyla inhaled, and held the breath in the pit of her stomach, willing the silence to return. The room was too small, claustrophobic, and her body vibrated with noise and panic. Ā Across the room, the curtains fluttered, and streams of light flickered through. The beige walls were bare, and bulged with moisture, slowly becoming marred in cracks as she stared at them. She pushed herself from bed, and crossed the room, her heartbeat a hammer in her chest.
The hallway light was on, although dim and she wrestled with the door for a moment, refusing to remove the sweatshirt sheād tucked beneath it the day before. She looked to the ceiling, and realized the cracks were ripping through the house. The palm of her hand was pressed to the hallway wall, a guide as she walked its length, not taking her eyes off the trailing crack. It stopped at the kitchenās edge, and she dropped her gaze. A throng of people hovered near the kitchen, the heat of the day obvious with the cluster of bodies. Lyla pushed her way through, to arrive at the its center. The refrigerator was askew, and one side had been painted aqua, the image of a squid drawn on in thick black lines. On the ceiling, the erosion had gathered and begun to eat a hole, revealing blue sky and heavy clouds. The kitchen came alive with movement, every item lifting and tilting towards it like a magnet. Lyla felt the uncomfortable shift as the house began to unearth itself. An image of the television, and the used car salesman flashed in her mind, the toothy grin of the man seared behind her eyes. She pushed herself through the screened door, letting it slam in the frame behind her, her gaze locked on the floating bodies of her friends being gently tugged through the gaping hole. They were complacent, their bodies relaxed as if theyād known their purpose was sacrifice.
Every nerve in her body ached to run, but Lyla stood in place, her feet planted firmly in the gravel. Her pores sucked up the humidity and her skin beaded with sweat. āHere, you get exactly what you want,ā came the voice from the unplugged television, before it shattered midair. Lyla spun on her heel, and moved forward several feet. The house, at her back had ripped from the ground, severed cleanly from the foundation, levitating around her. She stared in awe as it scattered, without making a sound, the contents of her world spilling like a bag of sugar. It dissolved in the air, turning into a fine mist that pricked her skin and bounced off in waves. Lyla pushed herself forward, each step steady and traveled through the alley, aware that the long line of fence was still firmly in place. The ground beneath her was motionless, but an old car began to shiver and rise into the air. It rocked in place for a moment, but was quickly slung upwards and disappeared. Everything around her burst and popped into tiny shards, and were quickly absorbed by something above. The buzz of the city had dispersed, and Lyla stood alone, at the end of the neighborhood. She was standing amongst nothing, fog rising from the ground. The entire neighborhood leveled, and the city beyond had begun to fracture. Lyla sat to the ground, her knees beneath her, and she pushed her face to the sky. The slightest hint of moisture hung in the air, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the downpour. āWhat you want,ā said the man from the television, his voice a staccato drop from above.
Below is the video I got the idea from. For this one particular, its not the words that are important, but the visuals, so if you don't like it, just mute and enjoy!
youtube
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#ashleywebb#lordash#photography#jazminvaldivia#model#modeling#outfit#odd#ootd#latina#peruvian#spanish#italian#exotic#lush
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A snip of my current work in progress. Want to read more? Check out my blog: fictionaltortoise.blogspot.com. Follow me on both and never miss my newest imaginings!! . . . . . . #writersontumblr #writingcommunity #turtlewrites #writing #story #words #amwriting #creativity #writingdesk #inspiration #amworking #dark #writersofinstagram #ashleywebb
#dark#words#ashleywebb#story#amworking#amwriting#writingdesk#writingcommunity#turtlewrites#writersontumblr#writersofinstagram#inspiration#creativity#writing
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Iāve seen the ā#Inktoberā challenge going around, and I always get excited to see the art people come up with. Iām also always looking for a way to involve myself in an artistic community. This year I got to thinking of all the different forms of artist out there. I am an artist of words, which I pull from my head and onto the screen or on a piece of paper ļæ½ļæ½ ink. Itās also said that artists are thieves, taking what we enjoy and putting our own spin on it. Every piece of art you see is essentially recycled and has evolved from someone elseās ideas. This year I will be participating in #Inktober2016, and this is what Iāve come up with: Recycled words.
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Part 22: The Meeting
(Note: I know it has been two or more weeks since I posted, but Iām proud to say it is back on! Normal human things got in the way for a bit, and all I can do is move forward. So, I hope you enjoy! Leave a like and share with your friends!)Ā
Thanks!
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Part 21: Georgia takes the lead
Check out parts 1-20, by taking a look at my page, and check out all the art by @mat-kaminski
Leave a like and share with friends if you enjoyed it!
#ashleywebb#fictionaltortoise#matkaminski#horror#amwriting#writersontumblr#collaboration#writing#writer#creativity
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Part 20: Cassie and Georgia come face to face.Ā
Art by @mat-kaminski, so check out his page for all of his art.Ā
Also, feel free to leave a like and share with your friends if you enjoyed it! Thanks!
#ashleywebb#fictionaltortoise#matkaminski#horror#collaboration#writingcommunity#writersontumblr#amwriting
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Part 19: Georgia makes her entrance!
Make sure to catch up, by reading parts 1-18, and check out all the accompanying art by @mat-kaminski
Leave a like and share with your friends if you enjoyed it!
#ashleywebb#fictionaltortoise#matkaminski#collaboration#writersontumblr#writingcommunity#writing#amwriting#horror#quickwrite#writer
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Part 18: A visitor interrupts the planĀ
(Sorry this is two weeks late, had a crazy, busy two weeks at work, and just couldnāt find the time, but weāre back at it, and hope you enjoy!)Ā
Art is by @mat-kaminski
Leave a like and share with your friends if you enjoyed it!
#fictionaltortoise#ashleywebb#matkaminski#horror#collaboration#creativity#writersontumblr#artistsontumblr
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Part 17. Read Parts 1-16 to catch up, and check out all the accompanying art by @mat-kaminski
#ashleywebb#fictionaltortoise#matkaminski#writing#writingcommunity#writersontumblr#collaboration#horror#quickwrite#creativity
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Make sure to check out the rest of my page to read parts 1-15 (Itās not too late!) And check out @mat-kaminski for every accompanying image so far.Ā
If you enjoy it, leave a like, and share with your friends.Ā
Thank you so much!
#ashleywebb#matkaminski#fictionaltortoise#writersontumblr#writing#writingcommunity#quickwrite#creativity#collaboration#horror
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Part 15. Catch up by reading parts 1-14, and check out all the art by @mat-kaminski
#ashleywebb#fictionaltortoise#matkaminski#writing#writer#writingcommunity#writersontumblr#creativity#horror#collaboration
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Part 14! Make sure to catch up and read parts 1 - 13, leave a like and share if you enjoyed it, please :)Ā
Make sure to check out the rest of the art for this project by @mat-kaminski
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Make sure to read parts 1-12, leave a like and share with your friends if you enjoyed it! :)Ā
And make sure to head over to the artistās page @mat-kaminski
#fictionaltortoise#ashleywebb#matkaminski#collaboration#horror#writersontumblr#creativity#writing#writingcommunity#quickwrite
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Part 12: A decision has to be made
Make sure to catch up and read parts 1 - 11, leave a like and share with friends if you enjoy it!Ā
Thank you so much, and apologize that itās a day late
#ashleywebb#fictionaltortoise#writersontumblr#writing#matkaminski#writer#creativity#horror#quickwrite#collaboration
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Check out my page for parts 1-10, leave a like and share with your friends if you enjoy it, and stop by @mat-kaminski for every illustration!
#ashleywebb#fictionaltortoise#matkaminski#writersontumblr#writing#writingcommunity#creativity#quickwrite#collaboration#horror
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