200 Words Weekly

This last week has been very productive. My multitude of self imposed 200 words sessions are finally paying off.

I managed a total of around 6k words last week and got my chapter finished. I’m very pleased with myself. I have the plans for the next one to hand and already on the go. I’m having far too much fun to be allowed. It’s at times like this that I’m thankful I’m not religious, guilt free pleasure is the best. Life is good. So, what was there to report from last week?

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200 Word Round-Up

Looking back over my weekly 200 words I’ve actually done quite a bit more than I expected on my story.

I’ve also procrastinated brilliantly. I’m having a little trouble with the last scene I need to write, but I’m going to make headway on it tonight.

Exerts from the week:
In which our hero reads through her diary and figures out what to put into her blog post that won’t spoil her story too much.

Learning All About Writing:

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What I’ve learned from Writing Excuses?


I’ve mainlined 4 seasons of Writing Excuses so far. I’m currently on season 5. So what have I learned?

One. How I write is not wrong.

I knew this deep down already but there was always a little worry at the back of my head that was saying that how I worked was somehow wrong. I don’t have a hugely detailed notebook that has entire character histories in it. Every detail of each scene is not planned out in minute detail…in fact, when I tried this I kind of froze up when it came to the writing. It really surprised me when it happened because every preconceived notion I had about ‘how you should write’ said that the words would just flow from me after I’d planned it all out. I now know why that wasn’t the case.

Apparently I’m a discovery writer.

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200 Word Challenge

 

I have written before about my friends challenge that I write 200 words a day, minimum. I have been doing this with increasing consistency and I have reached the point where I am comfortable enough in the practice that it can bleed across into my website.

Every week, on a Monday, I’ll post here and show you a collection of my random musings and little snippets from the stories I am either working on or write just to get the ideas down on paper for a later date.

Today I will include some snippets from both recent and more distant 200 words for your amusement.

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Short Story: Soul – We are all searching for something.

Soul

The soul drifted, lost in the vortex.  It knew only absence and loss.  It felt no pain because it lacked any form, but it yearned, oh how it yearned.  It yearned for sensation and for the connection it knew on an instinctual level was possible.  It was so cold and so alone it didn’t understand how it had come to this place nor how to escape it.  Time was its enemy here, it knew.  It just didn’t know how to fight or why the war was even taking place.

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Journal: Words

Words are a thing.

We use them for expressing how we feel, most of the time at least. The problem is, what happens when what you are feeling is so bundled up and curled in upon yourself that you have no words? What happens then? What if you are feeling so much that you are just overwhelmed with it all and want to hide away from everything? What can words do then?

Words become sounds in that situation. They become screams and groans, howls and sobs. They become scrunched up stomach muscles and explosions of tears. They change into confused glances and worried nails, colours and swirling images in your mind. They choke you and cause lumps in your throat that make you have to swallow back what you wanted to say.

They make you hold in the “but I love you’s” and the “please help me’s”.

You have no words when your mind steals them from you. You become your own prison and your own torturer. Nothing can set it right because you have no way of saying what it is that is wrong. After you have kept the words squashed down and captive for a while they start to lose all sense of meaning. They start to become fearful and try to hide away when you begin to feel like you might be able to say something. They skitter like scared little spiders across your brain, into the dark places within your mind. They like the dark places. It’s safe there and they are amongst company that feels the same as they do.

The words become so good at hiding from you that you begin to wonder if they will ever come out. All you can do is cry and scream, and wonder why, why me? Why do I have to feel so much? Why do I have to hurt? Why do I have to love? Why can’t I be free from this? Why won’t the words just come out? Why do I have to be so scared?

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