You Feel Me?: Conveying Emotion in My Work

At the moment, I am currently working on an essay.

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“Where did all this homework come from!” (Image from Golden Time).

 

Fun right? Well, the information I’m gathering is kind of interesting. I also think my topic and thesis are cool…so that’s a start.

I did update my novel the other day with a really humorous chapter. I don’t think I’ve ever actually laughed that much while writing. I don’t know if it was because it was late at night and I was tired, or because it was actually funny. I’d like to think it was actually funny. I’ll find out when I edit later.

Whenever I actually feel what I’m putting down, I know that I’ll be satisfied with the final product. That’s why I don’t like to write about things I don’t know about…it isn’t that I refuse to do so, but I feel like it isn’t genuine and I don’t like to force emotion into my writing. I want the emotion to be real. If I’m not feeling anything, then I don’t think it is worth keeping. It took me a lot of trial and error when writing romance between characters when I first started.

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(Quote from 2D-Kun. Golden Time).

 

I know that there are some twelve and thirteen year olds out there who are in relationships, and claim to know everything there is to know about love. I wasn’t one of those kids. I’m not afraid to admit to it. I had people I liked, but I’d never dated anyone. My first experience with heartbreak was when I was sixteen…and it wasn’t because I was dumped.

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“Boo hoo! My heart hath been broken!” (Found on Google).

 

I wasn’t in a relationship at all.

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“Stop. Get some help.” (Image From Golden Time).

It was that experience that opened my eyes to this flaw in my writing. I stopped trying to write about those types of intimate relationships, because I finally had some understanding of how they actually worked. Instead I wrote what I knew. I knew about liking someone, but not wanting to ruin my friendship with them. I knew what heartbreak felt like, and realized that I am capable of jealousy…an emotion I hadn’t truly felt before to that degree. When I started to write the things I knew, I was actually feeling the emotion in my words.

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I didn’t have to pull a rabbit out of a hat to write about these things because I understood the feelings I wanted to convey. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve been able to write about different aspects of relationships. Either things I’ve experienced, or that people close to me have gone through. Sometimes, I’ll admit, using another persons experience is difficult but it is still better than trying to conjure up some plastic emotion that you have no clue what to do with.

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Boo from Monsters Inc.

 

Just because you write fiction doesn’t mean that you can’t be honest.

 

Anyway, I’d better get going. I still have a few more articles to look at.

Till next time,

–R.

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Playing Music

Singing lullabies in darkness,

To lure out our weakness.

We whisper lyrics gentle,

and warm like a candle.

Wanting to reach one another with words,

by singing like the birds.

Searching for a lyrical muse,

To string the sounds we don’t now how to use.


 

Hello again,

I finally finished the majority of my exams and assignments, so I thought that I’d take the time to chill. Write a little poetry.

Majoring in English can be a bit of a pain sometimes, since I love to read and write but I’m forced to read and write so much, to the point where it’s draining. Sad huh? Oh well, come Monday I’ll be free to do as I like for a little while. That’ll be nice.

Until next time,

— R.

The End: Novel Update

November 29th, 2013 I began writing this novel. At the time I had been taking a break from writing, as I’d been going through serious writers block. Then I came up with an entirely new story, that was begging to be written. Today, November 29th, 2016 I completed this novel…and after working on it for the last three years I don’t know what to do with myself.

I mean, it is broken up into three books, so I can begin working on part two but…whoa. Three years of my life. I wonder how much my writing style has changed between the first and last paragraphs. I wrote two-hundred and forty pages. Well then. That’s neat.

I don’t know how to react right now. I randomly started tearing up, and now I feel like running around and shouting to the heavens, “I did it! I finished!”

To think I’d had serious writers block before starting this novel. It was at the beginning of the 9th grade, and I’d written six books in a series. I was trying to edit them all…and I’d realized that there were too many loose ends and a lot of things that needed work. While I was editing them, I kept trying to start other novels and I’d write a couple of chapters and then give up. It was horrible. Then I fell in love with the idea of this novel, simply because of an image from a dream I had. The novel haunted me. I tried to push it out of my head but it needed to be written. Now it is finally finished…whoa. This is so weird.

I have such mixed feelings right now. I managed to reach my goal. I just thought it would be cool to finish on the same day that I’d started, I guess determination is really…important. Now I feel like I can accomplish anything. I’m going to begin editing this as soon as all of my essays are done. This is so awesome.

 

Whoa…I feel like I’m all over the place right now. I just read a bit of the first page and I was like “Wow…my writing has gotten a lot better. Thank you creative writing courses.” This is just too much for me to take in right now.

Especially since I was having such a hard time earlier this year and over the summer. I’d felt as though I’d barely had any time to write this year but I still managed to reach my goal.

For those of you still working away at your novels, keep going. Even if it takes you three or four years to complete a work, the feeling when you’ve finished…I can’t explain it but it is wonderful. I haven’t felt like this since the day I finished writing my first book.

This is just awesome. Okay…goodbye for now.

–R.

“What’s it mean when somebodies heart is broken?” – Curly.T

Trying to explain what it means to have a broken heart to a child is extremely difficult. They think of it like a broken bone, something that you can see and mend…however in reality broken hearts are hidden within us, beneath our outer shells.

Sure, some of us have hearts that aren’t very strong, or don’t work they way they should…but we don’t say our hearts our broken when they’re off beat or they burst out of control. We say they’re under attack.

Until today, I never realized how we view our hearts. When I think of my heart, I think of a vessel pumping in my chest but I also think of the vast emotions that I feel and the memories associated with them. I wonder why our hearts feel as though they clench whenever we’re in pain? Or why they race rapidly when we’re nervous, or why our hearts flutter whenever we’re in love?

I don’t think a broken heart can be properly explained. It is one of those things that you have to feel to actually understand…and for the little girl who asked, I hope she doesn’t feel that sort of pain for a very, very long time…even though it is a necessary feeling that we all need in order to grow.

–R.

If I Were Mean

Sometimes being a nice person can be a burden.

I wonder if it’s easier to be mean? Some days I wonder if I should be mean…but mean simply isn’t me. I’m simply not mean. If I was mean, I wouldn’t be me and if I’m not myself then I’m no one.

— O. Ryder

I Can’t Sleep

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I can’t sleep.

The lights keep flickering.

Pop in the bed.

Voices in my head

Are telling me I should sleep.

I don’t listen.

Am I broken?

Am I alive or dead?

No in between.

I’m numb but I breath in.

You call my name.

I don’t reply.

You watch me build a wall.

Every brick I place it falls.

Nothing’s wrong.

Still it’s not right.

Somebody tell me

Why can’t I

Sleep at night?