Today at church I gave brief father’s day speech to which my mother complained about it, then a really nice kid who goes to high school for the gifted and talented for writing got up and spoke. His speech was very nice and my mother chose this time to say to me “You’re a writer and you’re supposed to speak well.” Excuse me? I speak very well, but I tend to get nervous when speaking in front of a group of people. I’ve given awesome speeches in front of stuffed animals though, Hello Kitty happens to be a tough critic.
Writers aren’t all alike for every Ernest Hemingway there’s a writer who writes to the everyday person. I write sometimes the way I speak which happens to strange cross between sounding highly educated to that of a valley girl. I spent the first nine years of my life only speaking when I was spoken to or having temper tantrums. I came out of my not talking shell and never went back. Despite this I’d rather not let people into my little world. There must be some mystery.
Writing is like playing God and the world wasn’t created in one day. I get my ideas from reading other stories, for instance I was reading my new copy of “Afterlife With Archie Vol.1” and I fell in with the back story. Reading the character back story made realize this is how I could make people fall in love with my characters. I bounced my back story ideas off one my close friends and she loved the idea. I grew up with pets and I love cats so I gave my protagonist a cat that she’s had since the she was a little kitten. I love having someone who wants to hear my ideas because it gets the juices flowing. Every writer is different for every Harry Potter there’s a Fifty Shades of Gray. Readers have different appetites and the same people who love HP might love FSG. My novel might be seen as junk food reading or as novel that makes people want to have the course and be themselves and say “Bump the haters.”