Monthly Archives: March 2009


Damn voices in my head….

I was a vampire. It wasn’t something that I had wanted, but the more I thought of it the more I realised that this was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Thanks to James, and I couldn’t believe that I was actually thanking that evil creature, but thanks to James I was going to be able to stay with Edward and the Cullens forever. As I stared at my reflection in the mirror that Alice had brought for me I wondered what kind of vampire I would make. Would I be as klutzy as I had been as a human? Would I get into as much trouble? Would I still attract as much unwanted attention by the vampire world? There were so many questions, but I really didn’t care. I was a vampire, and that fact filled me with more happiness than I had ever known.

When the voices start echoing in my head I have to write it down or else they won’t disappear. It’s kinda horrible but can’t be avoided since there are so many characters of my own creation and that I’ve read rambling up in my noggin. This was only a fraction of what I wrote, but it DID take away from my essay writing time…speaking of which I have 1909 words out of 2500-3000k. I’m getting there, slowly.

Must. Get. Back. To. Work.


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I should be working on the essay that’s due the day after tomorrow, but when inspiration hits I have to go for it. Hence, that’s why I wrote this little darling. It’s the beginning of a Twilight fanfiction story that is an alternate to New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn. It’s entitled ‘A Different Dawn’ and deals with the premise that Bella was turned by the venom of James. The story starts with her turning.

Here’s a snippet;

I was on fire. I couldn’t figure out what was going on or which way was up or down. The last thing that I remembered was the sounds of something being ripped apart and the image of Edward, my love saying that he was going to make the pain go away. But it didn’t go away. The pain didn’t go away […] After who knows how much time the pain finally began to lessen. The fire ebbed from my veins and I began to hear snippets of conversation. I caught the names of people that I knew but it was Edward’s voice that became a life line for me. It anchored me to myself and I began to pull out of the fire…finally it disappeared completely and I opened my eyes. “Bella?” asked Edward…

So there you have it, just a little bit of the beginning. I don’t know how long this story will go, or if I’ll ever continue it but right now I have school writing to deal with.

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Sometimes, my inspiration and my muses take me by surprise. When I started scribbling down a little story about an oracle and Apollo, I figured that I’d have enough for 4k if that, but now it’s expanded to be at least 9k and who knows, it may get even longer.

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On Becoming A Writer

The other day on the livejournal of SJ Maas she talked about how she became a writer. It was a highly mystical experience for her which you can read here and when I read it I thought about how I decided that I wanted to be a writer and I couldn’t come up with anything–I still can’t. I just think that I always have been a writer. My earliest memory of writing would be when I was in grade two or three and we had these ‘journals’ in which we were supposed to talk about our day and such but I didn’t write about that. I wrote stories.

All stories had a little girl in it and they were all named after me and they all were my age. In one journal I wrote a story about faeries but never finished, I wrote a story about a seal getting lost in the greater Toronto area which I did finish. Reading them over now they’re quite childish but show incredible imagination (in my humble yet biased opinion) but the writing didn’t stop there.

When I was in brownies (age 7) I wrote a story about a girl who went into a box in her backyard that led to another world where the sky was orange and the grass was pink and it was completely deserted. In grade 5 during March break I went to this day program at the local chapters and we wrote and illustrated and published a book. Mine was about a penguin who had gotten lost and was found by a young girl (me). In grade 4 or 5 at school there was a writing club where we would gather in the library and write. At the end of the program we got a short story bound up.

I will be the first to admit that it was a rip off of a book that I was reading–most of my stories were copies or homages to other published works but there was one story in grade 4 or 5 I think where we were placed in a group and we could make up our own stories and my group came up with a story about Cinderella who lived as we know she lived but had a boyfriend and dumped him…..I could go on and on.

For me, writing stories I suppose has always been preferable to the real world. I was bullied a lot and reading and writing was a way for me to get away… I read the babysitters club books and I yearned to have such a close knit group of friends and by reading the books faithfully I felt that I belonged. By watching movies with happy endings I could see a world where people aren’t petty and mean and rude and horrible, but are kind and nice and where good always wins out.

Writing was a salvation for me, and now I write I suppose because I have so many stories in my head that are just bursting to come out. The ultimate dream is to become published and write for the rest of my life–but if I have to write just for myself and my close friends and family…well, there are worst ways to express oneself.

And in terms of how I do write in case anyone wants to know, when I think of a story idea, the entire story comes to me at once. It’s like I can see the entire plot with all its twists and turns and all the dialogue, it’s all there in my head and then it’s gone in a flash and I spend ages trying to reconstruct it…sometimes I’m successful but more often than not I lose interest…and sometimes losing interest is hard.

I have this one story that I abandoned after 75k words (out of a potential 350k story) and I still think of the characters every now and then. It was based off a fanfiction story that I had written, and I wanted to make it original that this new story took shape but it went in such a direction that I had no idea where it was going. And even now, two years later (roughly) I still think of the characters…they want me to write them but I just can’t find a voice for them. That project is on one of the many back burners that I have going but I know that I will never let that story go….

….either way I’m a writer at heart and I suppose that even if don’t get published one day (which as I have said before is the penultimate dream) I’ll continue writing just for me, my family, my friends and for the fun of it. ^_^ I mean, the voices have to go somewhere right?

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