About to Write

I realize that most of my readers are recent followers, people that have found my blog within these past couple of months. Many may just read the entries I post now, but I do want to let you know that I've written a lot of things since July 5th 2010. You may or may not have read my secret ambition from July 8th that same year, but I'd like to elaborate a little on that. I've been thinking about this entry for a few days now, but haven't gotten around to it because of work and reading The Hunger Games (which I finished today, by the way), and I think it will take some time to get through it, because I have a lot on my heart today.

I envy certain authors. Not because of their success, not because of the money they've made or because of their fame; I envy them for their imagination, their ability to create characters so dynamic, so real, that they make their way into your heart and changes who you are, if not permanently then at least for a while.

I envy C.S. Lewis for creating a world into which children can escape from reality for some time, and imagine they're defeating evil on a white horse, and talking to lions who tell them their next move; a world where good will always defeat evil, where children succeed and become kings and queens, where animals speak and trees sing and dance.

I envy  J. K. Rowling for turning an 11 year old ordinary boy into a wizard who eventually defeats one of the greatest wizards of all times, the one who could kill all but the boy to whose hand he ended up dying; for turning the life of an 11 year old girl around, that girl being me, because Harry Potter was never just a book to me, it was always, and will always be, so much more than just a book, than just a story, it was a lifeline, of some sort.

I envy Stephanie Meyer for creating a story that would heal any girl's broken heart, including mine; a story in which love always wins in the end, where those that are meant to be will be together. She taught me that no measure of time with you is enough, but let's start with forever. That natural mortal enemies can live side by side in an alternate world, where vampires sparkle and werewolves are not forced to change when the full moon rises.

I envy Corinne Hofmann, who got put her story so vividly down on paper that it literally made me cry when I finished the last page. She lived a life one can only imagine, and few get to dream about, but thanks to her the impossible doesn't seem quite that impossible, and after all: It's not that easy to die, not when you have something to fight for and are determined to live. And to top it all off: This is a true story, from a real woman's real life.

I envy Suzanne Collins, whose name I even had to look to the book to remember now, because I've been so absorbed in the story of Katniss and Peeta and their fight for survival to pay any attention to the author. I want to write a book that catching one day.

I want to write a life altering story for someone. I like to write. Love it, even. And frankly, I'm not all that bad. There was one story I wrote just for no reason in the late spring of 2009, and when I took it out again and used it as a rough draft in a school assignment in the late fall semester the following school year, I gave myself shivers when I read it. I've written essays that have made my teachers ask me to read them out loud in class, and I based an entire school project upon one book that a teacher suggested half a year earlier just because I never got around to reading it sooner - aced it, too, but I don't mean to brag or anything. Maybe you think I sound stuck up and self-absorbed now, but like my photo teacher said: If you don't stand up and are proud of your work, who the hell will?

But it takes more than inspiration from a TV-show you watch half asleep or a dream to get a good story written. It takes more that just being good with the words. The stories above are all fantasy apart from the latter, but they are all very different, apart from one common denominator: The characters. You have to really know them. Not just describe them, but really, truly know them. What would they do and how would they think and act in any given situation? It's not something you as an author can decide, you have to let the characters speak to you. To become part of you.

And here's the part that scares the hell our of me: To let the characters become part of you, you had to let them in. I'm scared as hell that the character would become too much like me, which isn't disasterous, it just wouldn't sell well. The disasterous part is if I partly turn into my characters. To lose myself in a book - literally!

I want to write, but I'm scared of being a failure at it. But then again, no one would know, right? As the saying goes, writing is a lonely business. - Jamie Ford, author of The Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet.

And if you've managed to keep your eyes open throughout these past 11 paragraphs, I would like to hear an opinion, or some words of comfort or encouragement or some other sorts. Thanks.

♥ The Norwegian Teenager

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a teenager with thoughts ©

a teenager with thoughts ©

19, Ørland

This is an anonymous blog by a Norwegian teenage girl. I may reveal myself someday, but for now my identity shall remain unknown for those of you who do not already know who I am. I'll explain all of that later. Please leave a comment so I can see you've visited, in whichever language you prefer!

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