Since the writing contest I wrote this for is now over, I can safely publish this on my blog. The prompt was: Submit a story about two people who have become the way they are because of their close relationship with each other: either as best friends or worst enemies – or both. Write it in 500 words or less without using either the words “friend” or “enemy.”
For the fifty-eighth time today, I scan over the list of solo acoustic guitar performers competing this year and I can come to no other conclusion but this: first place is going to come down to Caleb and me again. Continue reading
So, sometimes I find there is a lull in my writing. A empty, shallow time that is void of any and all inspiration and desire. Nothing I come up with sounds right, my plot is going in circles, and I’m tired of my stupid book and how crazy it is making me. I am starting to forget why I wanted to be a writer in the first place.
And then, a contest is announced. Now, not just ANY contest, mind you. The winner of this contest gets to have a 30-45 minute writing workshop with MAGGIE STIEFVATER. Yes, you heard me right. The NY Times best- selling author of YA novels (the genre I am trying to break into). She also happens to be my favorite author so, no bigs.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Meg?”
My mother looks at me with both concern and disapproval. She holds up my inhaler so I know exactly what she’s talking about.
I give her a subtle nod as I take off my warm-up track suit and start jogging in place.
“This could be the day,” I say. I’m not sure if I say it for her benefit or for myself though.
“You said that exact same thing on the last race and look how that turned out. They had to carry you to the medical tent, Meg.”
She puts the inhaler back in her purse, exasperated.
“I can’t give up.” I reply, “You know I’m doing this for Lynn.” Continue reading