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Young Writers Society
Write before you lose it!
Wed Aug 10, 2011 11:52 pm
I always find myself sitting somewhere in a public place just think about life and then an crazy idea for writing will come to me. When I first started to do this, I would try to remeber about it when I got home so I could write it down but by the time I was home, I had already forgot about. Now I look like a crazy person typing fast on my Iphone Notes app so I dont forget a single thought. I will have to say even though I get odd looks in Walmart, I never miss an important detail or idea that can help me with my writing.
Sun Sep 11, 2011 1:26 pm
I completely agree. I would rather have people looking at me strangely than forget an idea which could have great potential. I try to always have a notebook on me, but if i don't, then it's very rare for me to not have my Iphone in my pocket!
Mon Sep 19, 2011 2:17 pm
Mm, I do get great ideas in the strangest of places at times, and it is indeed odd to be typing furiously on my phone or writing in a notepad, but I tell myself to do it, anyway, seeing the many times I have got home only to have lost most of the ideas... Then I'd only sit down and cry out in despair D:
(Okay, maybe not so dramatic, but yeah.)
Absence weakens mediocre passions and increases great ones the same way wind blows out candles and kindles fires.
Mon Oct 10, 2011 2:22 am
Lol, that's me right there. I've got notebooks that traveled with me through seventh grade, they're full of course. Ideas would always come to me in the most boring classes usually. Or I'll be walking down the hallway, get an idea, and then pull over to the side to take out my notebook and pen. xD It can never wait till I get in the class because I'm scared I'll forget something.
It's nice to know other people do this to and it's not just me.
Rah, rah, ree, kick em' in the knee. Rah, rah, rass, em' in the... OTHER KNEE!
Thu Oct 13, 2011 7:59 pm
Ah, the people who have disowned me because I am too strange...
I was once sitting in a fast food restaurante with some friends who were very... mainstream, I guess, where as I fit more snugly into the bohemian underground. I got an idea, and we were all just lounding around doing nothing, so I casually took out my notepad to write it down.
In a tone that I would use if I saw a viking walking down my street with a "take drugs not lives" poster, the girl sitting on the table opposite me said "Look! She's writing something!"
She and her friend looked at eachother in shock and eagerly awaited to see what it was. I can't remember what I actually wrote, but it was something like 'Artemis didn't murder his father, well he did, but it was more of a euthenasia thing.'
They didn't talk to me so much after that. It's not such a bad thing, I prefer the underground anyway.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all -
— Emily Dickinson
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