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Spring Break! WHOO! Spring Cleaning! ......
Not what I wanted. This post is coming a little late, today because for the majority of the afternoon I've been cleaning my room. And I'm not a neat person. Things usually sit haphazard, strewn about on the floor. It usually kind of looks like a great big conglomeration of random junk exploded in the center.
But now there's nothing on the floor. Rad.
On to my totally inspirational message. Actually, it's just been something I've mulled over a bit lately, as I work ever-harder on my manuscript.
Creative writing is the act of making worlds from words, and sentience from sentences.
I started writing because I love being creative, but I haven't really thought much about why I love being creative. And I think it all boils down to this: Imagination is one of most amazing things we, as humans, possess. On its own, imagination can pull a life out of the gutter and into wonder. Imagination is something so many people lose when they grow older, something we buried with our family pets in the back yard of our first house. It's what we gave away with our old toys, outgrew with our clothes, and forgot with some of our first memories.
Imagination is what I want to hold on to. It's the one thing that makes me feel my life is worth living.. Imagination aided humanity in its inventions, in television, in movies, in songs, in videogames, and in books. Imagination makes me feel special. Throughout my early years of education, a deep depression was woven into me by careless mockery of my fellow classmates. Kids will be kids, right? But because of it, I continued my life paranoid. Sometimes, I can't tell if someone is being sarcastic, and I have to ask them if they're joking. I take so many things personally because that's what I was used to.
And at the end of my seventh-grade year, I wanted to kill myself.
But I was talented. I was so talented, so loved by my close friends and family that it would be a waste to do myself in. And I viewed the world so negatively. So I turned inward for happiness. I thought up my own worlds, where anything I wanted could be a reality. I lived an alternate life through my characters, told their stories with my own voice, made them strong when I couldn't be.
There's a reason the norm is called the norm. It's normal. It's what we're used to. It's the hum-drum, drab, every-day existence we live. Imagination doesn't change the world. It changes how we see it. Suddenly, those scary trees outside your bedroom window at night become silent guardians, protecting you from even scarier things. Your dad is a mechanic, but he's secretly a superhero who's building a new power source to save the world from evil.
I wanted to kill myself, but if I did, a hundred other worlds would cease to exist. Nobody would ever know about them. But they want people to know. They want me to tell their stories. They need to spring forth and bring others joy.
Writing is my tool for sharing. It's my medium to show people what EVERYONE is made of, not just myself. With a fantastic theme, a book can change a view on life. It did come from Imagination, after all. And not just the writer's imagination! Just because the writer envisions it a certain way, doesn't mean the reader will visualize it exactly the same (unless you drowned them in description).
And we are all writers, not just of stories, but of our fates.
Imagination helped me live. But a nudge was all it gave me. The rest is up to me to decide. And so, while I'm creeping ever-closer to the 24th, when I'll be attending an online class for finding and keeping literary agents (with critique and possibility for further advancement at the end), I'm not just writing a manuscript, but my destiny. That is why I write.
I write in the hope that one day, I can make a difference in someone's life. That through me, Imagination will change them for the better, as it did for me. Last year, I made it my personal mission to go find and buy a DVD copy of my favorite childhood movie, An American Tail: Fievel Goes West . I did it because it's a fond reminder of how much Imagination has done for me. Sometimes I'll still plug it in the player and reminisce on the past, in preparation for the future.
Because Imagination is a gift I've never forsaken. It gave itself to me in my childhood, and I intend on keeping it close and dear in my heart as long as I live. Imagination is going to carry me to my dreams...
Well, that and a keyboard!
Not what I wanted. This post is coming a little late, today because for the majority of the afternoon I've been cleaning my room. And I'm not a neat person. Things usually sit haphazard, strewn about on the floor. It usually kind of looks like a great big conglomeration of random junk exploded in the center.
But now there's nothing on the floor. Rad.
On to my totally inspirational message. Actually, it's just been something I've mulled over a bit lately, as I work ever-harder on my manuscript.
Creative writing is the act of making worlds from words, and sentience from sentences.
I started writing because I love being creative, but I haven't really thought much about why I love being creative. And I think it all boils down to this: Imagination is one of most amazing things we, as humans, possess. On its own, imagination can pull a life out of the gutter and into wonder. Imagination is something so many people lose when they grow older, something we buried with our family pets in the back yard of our first house. It's what we gave away with our old toys, outgrew with our clothes, and forgot with some of our first memories.
Imagination is what I want to hold on to. It's the one thing that makes me feel my life is worth living.. Imagination aided humanity in its inventions, in television, in movies, in songs, in videogames, and in books. Imagination makes me feel special. Throughout my early years of education, a deep depression was woven into me by careless mockery of my fellow classmates. Kids will be kids, right? But because of it, I continued my life paranoid. Sometimes, I can't tell if someone is being sarcastic, and I have to ask them if they're joking. I take so many things personally because that's what I was used to.
And at the end of my seventh-grade year, I wanted to kill myself.
But I was talented. I was so talented, so loved by my close friends and family that it would be a waste to do myself in. And I viewed the world so negatively. So I turned inward for happiness. I thought up my own worlds, where anything I wanted could be a reality. I lived an alternate life through my characters, told their stories with my own voice, made them strong when I couldn't be.
There's a reason the norm is called the norm. It's normal. It's what we're used to. It's the hum-drum, drab, every-day existence we live. Imagination doesn't change the world. It changes how we see it. Suddenly, those scary trees outside your bedroom window at night become silent guardians, protecting you from even scarier things. Your dad is a mechanic, but he's secretly a superhero who's building a new power source to save the world from evil.
I wanted to kill myself, but if I did, a hundred other worlds would cease to exist. Nobody would ever know about them. But they want people to know. They want me to tell their stories. They need to spring forth and bring others joy.
Writing is my tool for sharing. It's my medium to show people what EVERYONE is made of, not just myself. With a fantastic theme, a book can change a view on life. It did come from Imagination, after all. And not just the writer's imagination! Just because the writer envisions it a certain way, doesn't mean the reader will visualize it exactly the same (unless you drowned them in description).
And we are all writers, not just of stories, but of our fates.
Imagination helped me live. But a nudge was all it gave me. The rest is up to me to decide. And so, while I'm creeping ever-closer to the 24th, when I'll be attending an online class for finding and keeping literary agents (with critique and possibility for further advancement at the end), I'm not just writing a manuscript, but my destiny. That is why I write.
I write in the hope that one day, I can make a difference in someone's life. That through me, Imagination will change them for the better, as it did for me. Last year, I made it my personal mission to go find and buy a DVD copy of my favorite childhood movie, An American Tail: Fievel Goes West . I did it because it's a fond reminder of how much Imagination has done for me. Sometimes I'll still plug it in the player and reminisce on the past, in preparation for the future.
Because Imagination is a gift I've never forsaken. It gave itself to me in my childhood, and I intend on keeping it close and dear in my heart as long as I live. Imagination is going to carry me to my dreams...
Well, that and a keyboard!
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In the twisted relay of light I see the nebula that was my birthing ground. Its radiance surrounds me with heat and color. Bursting clouds and arching forms in writhing wings of gossamer, painted with hydrogen and illuminated from within by the glow of its children.
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Trust.
I know no such word. That word died a long time ago, around the time everyone else died. It didn’t die alone though, it was joined by words like hope and freedom. Some people actually thought it would be better if they died with the word while others saw it more chivalrous if they died for it. I never understood those people, the ones who died for it, they were as worthless as those who died with it. I always seemed to go to the statement ‘there’s a reason why chivalry no longer exists’ when I think of them.
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This was the freedom, the new version of hope. It was a word that we all craved to use and
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Imagination Saved My Life: This was my blog post for the day, but I felt it couldn't just be left there.
Hopefully, it'll change yours, too.
Blog can be found here:
landsharklogan.blogspot.com/ (This link no longer works)
Hopefully, it'll change yours, too.
Blog can be found here:
landsharklogan.blogspot.com/ (This link no longer works)
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