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 |  A blog about music from my unique perspective (also a spot for some poetry I’ve written) |
A blog, generally about music, usually for projects hosted by Jeff  . I may also write about the 48-Hour Media Prompt Challenge if I don't feel like writing a story or poem inspired by the given song. Other bits of poetry or different topics of discussion might end up here as well.![Merit Badge in WDC Media Prompt
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Thank you for your participation in the 48-HOUR CHALLENGE: " Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac " Media Prompt hosted by [Link To User support] March 2024! We appreciate that you tackled this challenge... *^*Smile*^* *^*Thumbsupl*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/WDC-WDC_Media_Prompt.gif) ![Merit Badge in WDC Soundtrackers
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Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets. – Paul Tournier Can you share a secret? Small or big, tell us. No? Tell us why not. What do you think we are, two years old or something? If someone has things they choose to keep private about their mental health, physical health, personal life, religion, gender/sexuality, job status, education status, wealth, or even their housing status, that's entirely their call and it's none of your business to inquire. These days when mega corporations are after everyone's data and website security is constantly breached, it's even more important to maintain a level of privacy or even anonymity about one's online persona. We all know the old rule of "don't share your birthday, birthplace, high school, first pet, first car, mother's maiden name, etc because those are your account security questions…" And I hope we never expect such openness from others. The modern social media environment has brought us to the point where we assume everything we do has to be publicized, monetized, beautified, and otherwise adulterated for widespread consumption. I don't believe in making my private life a subject of discussion among others, even if this is a safe space and y'all are my friends. Enough ranting. I'll do my best to treat the prompt good-humored-ly from this point…   One secret I think I can safely share here is that I'm really Elsa, the Snow Queen. After the events of Frozen 2, I decided to spend most of my time alone in the Northern Lands, hanging out with my elemental spirit companions: Bruni the Fire Salamander, the Water Nokk (a blue ice horse,) Gale, the wind spirit, and the Earth Giants. The most enjoyable moments of my life are when I'm riding my water horse through the wild woods, headed back to Arendelle to visit Anna. She's my little sister; when I moved up north she became ruler in my place. I felt nervous at first about this arrangement, afraid people would say I abdicated, that I was being irresponsible to run away from my duties as queen. But Anna rose to the challenge. I'm proud of how well she's handling being Queen. It was one of the most freeing things I've ever done, to release the heavy burden of rulership and find my true self in the peace and tranquility of the great wilderness beyond our kingdom. At times, however, such solitude becomes boring. There's a limit to the intelligent conversation one can have with a fire salamander or a water horse. And weekly visits to see my family only go so far. It is then that I turn to writing: stories, poetry, even songs. I come here to see what a diverse and cooperative writing community looks like, and I share what I create. Anna recommended I not reveal my identity at first, out of concern for my well-being. I found it quite amusing to play myself in the 2023 Masquerade; I daresay no one guessed it wasn't a roleplay at all. Having now given away my deepest and strangest secret, I close with the words of OneRepublic, one of my favorite artists: I need another story, something to get off my chest My life gets kinda boring—need something that I can confess Till all my sleeves are stained red From all the truth that I've said Come by it honestly, I swear Thought you saw me wink, no— I've been on the brink, so Tell me what you want to hear Something that'll light those ears Sick of all the insinceres I'm gonna give all my secrets away This time, don't need another perfect lie Don't care if critics never jump in line I'm gonna give all my secrets away… Got no reasons, got no shame Got no family I can blame Just don't let me disappear I'ma tell you everything… Word Count: 623. |
The more that you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go. – Dr. Seuss Tell us more about the writer in you. Plans/ Aspirations/ Fears/ Status etc? I've always been a creative writer since I was a little kid. It began with simple, goofy stories about my stuffed animals. I wrote fanfiction of The Wind in the Willows, being entirely unaware there was a name for such derivative works. I wrote a comedy of Romeo and Juliet featuring a "story within a story" of my stuffed animals putting on a play. I transcribed and turned into stories the dialogues from my favorite TV shows, which I had memorized. I built a fictional Little House style pioneer universe populated with a kingdom of pug dogs inspired by my stuffed pug collection. I never sought an audience for my stories, having read some of them at an early age to my mom and been rather embarrassed when she gently pointed out absurdities. It didn't occur to me that anyone else might appreciate them. As I learned more about literature over the years in my homeschooling, I would look back at my earlier work and cringe, taking time to lovingly edit, rewrite and improve it. I also journaled extensively, writing about our garden and the various plants and animals, observing the foibles of our neighbors, and recording the myriad little peculiarities of life. I never thought to make a living off of writing; it was just something I did, a way to take note of things I thought were important or interesting. As my notebooks accumulated, I enjoyed going back and reading entries from "this time last year" just to see what was happening and how much I'd grown or changed since then. As I grew older, I abandoned creative writing for a number of reasons. A lot of it had to do with the realization that growing up meant I was expected to read current "adult" fiction rather than old-fashioned or children's fiction, and since I didn't believe I should expose myself to the sordid and potentially indecent fancies of modern grownups, I left the world of fiction behind entirely. I wasn't ready to make the transition from Charles Dickens and Norton Juster to James Patterson, Danielle Steel and Steven King (and to be honest I'm doing pretty well as a writer without reading any of those  )My rediscovery of creative writing and my presence here on WdC is almost entirely accidental, an extended fluke in the mundane flow of my life. I had absolutely no plans or aspirations at all; I simply had a story stuck in my head which suddenly made its way out, and I desperately wanted some form of outside input on it. I suppose the one fear I had when putting myself out here last year—the first time anyone ever saw a story I've written—was not so much criticism, as simply being ignored. I struggle with this as I consider my motivation for remaining here. Am I only here to "get attention," to be admired and to foist myself on people to make me feel better about myself? Am I being of some use? Am I creating content that is rich and meaningful and wholesome, that will have lasting value after I am no longer around? Am I really a valuable member of the community? Or am I simply playing a fun game of "look at me, I'm writing stories and otherwise goofing off!" People here tell me to seek professional publication. Perhaps I should. But I have no idea where I would start or what I would write. As a kid, I always instinctively preferred the short story form; even as I wrote longer collections with the same characters, the chapters were loosely connected in a Dickensian fashion (think The Pickwick Papers) rather than being novels. These days I have confirmed my preference and affinity for short fiction. I quiver at the thought of undertaking a NANO, and marvel at the gumption of those who regularly write and/or publish whole and complete novels. My current status, then, remains that of a dabbler and a hobbyist: one who enjoys the art of creative writing and pursues it merely as a fun and rewarding pastime. I'm still trying to figure out my place in life, and my adventures on WdC have proven to be a fascinating detour. Perhaps I'll explore the possibilities of a career in creative writing, but right now I feel like there are more important things I should be doing like getting a college degree or a job. I'm not as yet sure how I would combine or balance these life choices. I feel like I'm on the edge of something big and beautiful but that it might all be a wasteful illusion. Which is a strange feeling indeed. Word Count: 784. |
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