Autobiography Of a Writer

Once again, I have created a scene that relates to a picture. Below this beautiful picture is a "mind picture" (In other words a writing piece that relates to an image or landscape you haven't made up). Does my writing piece remind you of this image? I lay my hands over my stomach and stare through the branches. The deep world of stars glimmered over me like a great ballroom chandelier. Every glint a fragile crystal that hung from a string of gravity, held together by galaxies of other crystals. I felt small against the big open sky, but most of all, I felt lonely. I wanted to scold myself, remind myself that all I needed was Lupa, that there was no one worthy of my trust, but strange feelings still tore at my gut like a growing hunger. I close my eyes, the sound of the breeze rushing playfully through the trees, the electric buzz of cicadas a comfort against the pierce of darkness. The world seems to fade and my mind wills me toward sleep, my breath slowing into hea...

Does this piece I've written give you the imagery of this picture? I stood on the rusted rooftop, the metal cold against my bare feet. Lupa’s fur brushes lightly against my knee, her nose twitching curiously in the evening air. I look out before me, feeling the breeze blow over my back as if willing me to look forward at the brilliantly colored sky. The oranges and reds make the sky look as if fire was burning in slow motion, engulfing me with confidence. I run my hands gently through Lupa’s fur, bright auburn patches of fur bursted out against her gray timber wolf fur, like the sunset. The city, jagged shadows of unique architecture jutting from the soft green around me. The few skyscrapers like hands reaching to grab the fiery sky. The faint sound of a siren brings my eyes to the streets, the cars soft purrs of dashing whites and reds against the blackening night... *dont fret there will be more.*

For a little more that an hour I wrote in a beautiful aspen and pine filled forest. The tangy smell of the pine wafting through my nose gave me a sense of my home out doors. The lake I had hiked to had only a few families there. One girl had two dogs were extremely trained and amusing to watch. I really hope to go back there. While adventuring in these amazing woods I came up with an interesting medieval story. It includes sassy mermaids, an interesting type of treasure, pirates with intense names, a boy with a mysterious background, and a father who cares more about his job than his daughter. I will update the plots and character when I get the chance.

For 42 minutes I wrote in a nice park with a big open space that faded into a deep forest. There was one family there but they left after a few minutes.  I could hear the river running below me and the hundreds of different kinds of plants were green and blowing in a slight breeze around me. One of my favorite sounds was the faint train horn, that I decided would be a wonderful sound to put in a story. The story I worked on was of course The Ones in Silver, Though I am having some trouble moving the plot along. Here is a small bit of the story that I wrote while in this location.  As we sat at the picnic table I dared a question that had been brewing in my mind.  "Anybody ever tried to escape?" I ask. The chatter in my small group falls silent in a sudden hush and all eyes fall upon me. Emory sets her cold spaghetti down on the picnic table as if preparing to give me an important life lesson.  "Yes." Jax answers before she could.  From the lo...

Meet the characters in The Ones in Silver These are currently some of the most influential characters to this book so far. This will be updated so keep your eyes out. -- Emory Durand Born: M ay 22nd, 2002 in Giverny, France Age : 15 -- Lleana W hispers Born: September 5th, 2001 Portland, Oregon Age: 16 -- Kai Wolfe Born: Born in the relative’s barn in Castle Valley, brought up in Salt Lake City, UT. January, 21st 2002. Age: 15 -- Hakai Shirakawa Born: Manhattan, making life a little difficult from the start. January 12th, 2002. Age: 15 -- Jesus Lopez-Cruz Born: July 3rd 2002, Tijuana, Mexico Age: 15 -- Alette Metains Born: February 19th 1984 in Tacoma, Washington Age: 33 -- Ashton Winters Born: August 8th 2002 in Monterey, California. Age: 15 -- Jaxon (Jax) Cahtry (Cah-tree) Born: May 29th 2002 in Bar Harbor, Maine Age: 15

I just started this story today! Do me a favor and please either +1 this or comment if you think that this would be a good idea for a story! If I don't get any I know that I should move on or alter the story plot.  ****WARNING! Kind of intense and a little graphic haha****      It felt like fire as the chemicals made their way into my vein and through my blood stream. I bite my lip in an effort to restrain myself from pulling my arm away as the needle remained in my upper arm. For a second the world flashed and fazed in and out, a wave of dizziness falling over me, causing my eyes to droop. I inhale a sharp breath as the nurse pulls the syringe away. I close my eyes, the fiery feeling fading slowly from my body. My head still spun a little as I feel Cleo's hand fall upon my wrist.  "Breathe Aspen, breathe." her voice rang softly through my head. I take a shaky breath in and hold it for a second, releasing it at the thought of the fiery pain. I fin...

**** Here is another sentence from my story! If you've got time it would be awesome if you could give me some feedback on how the sentence makes you feel or if it might be a good hook. "I didn’t like lying, and I didn’t like believing something that wasn’t true, but I had to if I was ever going to get out of here." How does this sentence make you feel? Does it pull you in? What does this make you think of the character? What do you think is going on? ****