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Lost Words and Delayed Owls

by Cailey


I needed to write something. My fingers, with their chipped off nailpolish and their edges all wrinkled from being bit, twitched against the keyboard as I searched for the words to write. A thousand scraggly letters all dipped and dove through the maze of my mind, all of them shouting or whispering or simply calling to me in a low, beckoning voice as I attempted once more to sort through them.

It felt as though the words had always been there, swimming around in my head with that confusion jumble of noise always begging to get out. Yet sometimes, like now, they pressed especially hard and murmured with much more persuasiveness than usual. I wanted to cave in and allow them to have their fun and tell their tales, but the faster I typed the more confused I felt. There had been a time when words used to sooth me and comfort me. Now they taunted me, and as I set them free they grew wilder and louder with their chorus of threatening voices.

I wanted to feel happy. I wanted that strange calmness that seems to make its home in the hearts of some people. I wanted my breath to fall evenly, without the catch that interrupted it as I tried to unclench my muscles and release the tension I felt. Why was it that other people were allowed to feel joy? To feel peace? Why not me?

Me, the silly girl who sat wearing too short shorts and a hand-me-down tanktop, melting in the stuffy air of Oaxaca in March. I was the girl who wrote novels for fun, and always had a few poems tucked into my school notebooks. I was the girl who wrote letters to characters I'd invented and whispered stories to myself at night. I was the girl who had just finished the sixth Harry Potter movie and was wondering what it was that may have stopped my Hogwarts owl from arriving seven years ago. I kept trying to convince myself that Hogwarts had become a college instead of a highschool, and they were just waiting until my eighteenth birthday to send out the familiar white envelope with green letters on the front. Soon enough the old owl would rap his beak against my window, maybe with a few feathers missing due to some strange bread of Mexican Giant unknown to wizards in Harry Potter's day.

Then again, maybe Hogwarts never existed and Harry Potter was just a few words strecthed out between seven large volumes. Maybe his creator once sat in front of a blank screen with a million words screaming into her head to be let out. With her heart pounding with emotion that she couldn't explain, that Ron could never understand, that growled and fought to be let out with the same ferocity of a dementor or a trapped professor.

Or maybe not. Maybe, I was the only girl who could fit so many feelings into one second. Maybe no one else spend so much time absorbed in empty thoughts and mindless conversation with the surrounding air. Maybe sadness and horror were not a normal part of a normal person's day. Maybe depression was tobe the adventure I'd longed for for so long. Just as I used to take migraines and pretend that some evil villain had poisoned me or tortured me to reveal some long lost secret, so I would find a way to turn the pain into a story. After all, words on a page are far less terrifying than real pain. Yet still, the words did not provide the comfort they once had.

I sat, and my head flooded with ideas and pictures. Nothing meaningful, though, nothing important. Empty words, just like my heart. Empty. A balloon that had been filled with too much air and then left to fly about the air in a frantic, confused dance until only a stretched out piece of plastic remained. Now even the plastic of my heart was beginning to tear, and as I sat before all the words I spilled out onto the page, I began to wonder if I'd ever make it.

A motorcycle drove past on the highway, and the neighbor's car engine flared to life. Downstairs, I could hear my younger brother speaking to my parents, and the distant sounds of my mom making dinner. A dog barked somewhere in the neighborhood, and the peacock across the bridge gave off a desperate cry. The light in my room flickered, foreshadowing, perhaps? Once more the light flickered, and then faded completely, just as the plain wooden door slammed shut and a small peck sounded against the glass of my window...


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Sun Mar 31, 2013 1:44 pm
StoneHeart wrote a review...



Okay, so this was interesting!

Why must I run into so many great stories this morning?! This is the fourth! It's amazing!

Anyway, this is a bit slow for a novel chapter, readers want action in stories, they don't want pages and pages of description like this! I mean, narrative summary is more interesting than this! Really! It's slow!

For a first chapter I guess you might pass it off, first chapters are allowed to be really slow I guess!

Okay, for the fan fic part! What I don't like about fan fictions is that you they writer isn't being as original as they can! I'm not saying that fan fictions can't be good books, that I can't sit down and really enjoy a fan fiction, it's just that they're not original, and in the overview that's a bad point against them!

However! This doesn't mean you should stop writing this! I'm actually right now hoping you DO write more! Otherwise this'll be boring, just a floating chapter! I won't be able to read any more, to find out what that peck was (Though I think I already know).

Amazing work though, I enjoyed it, slow, fanfiction, shortness and all! It was good!

Keep it up for sure!

~Black~




Cailey says...


Hey there, thanks for the review. I actually didn't have any intention of adding on to this. I also don't like fanfictions, since I have way too many ideas of my own and don't see the point in being uncreative and stealing some one else's ideas. But.. I had just finished a harry potter marathon and couldn't get it out of my system. I had to write something fanfiction in order to turn back to my own work. And I agree with the slowness of it. I honestly had no idea where I was going with this. So thanks for taking the time to review!!



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Tue Mar 19, 2013 3:33 am
StoryWeaver13 wrote a review...



Hey Cailey! Okay, so I'll start off with the small stuff, and work up from there.

"I needed to write something. [[I *had* to write something may be a better choice of words.]] My fingers, with their chipped off nailpolish and their edges all wrinkled from being bit, twitched against the keyboard as I searched for the words to write. [[This sentence is fine, but the rhythm is a bit off; what I mean is that, when read, it could simply be worded in a smoother, more cohesive way. I would recommend "My fingers, with their chipped nailpolish and wrinkled bitten edges, twitched across the keyboard..." This isn't necessary, but I think it has a better flow.]] A thousand scraggly [[scraggly? Maybe scrambled?]] letters all dipped and dove through the maze of my mind, all of them shouting or whispering or simply calling to me in a low, beckoning voice as I attempted once more to sort through them."

As far as opening paragraphs go, this is a decent start. Writing about writing has become a bit of a cliche and tired practice, and it's a bit of a lazy habit (after all, as a writer, how hard is it to write about writing?), but it's not bad and already you're expressing the potential for a unique perspective on the subject.

"It felt as though the words had always been there, swimming around in my head with that confusion jumble of noise always begging to get out. [[Very scattered sentence, so just clean this up]]. Yet sometimes, like now, they pressed especially hard and murmured with much more persuasiveness than usual. I wanted to cave in and allow them to have their fun and tell their tales, but the faster I typed the more confused I felt. There had been a time when words used to sooth me and comfort me. Now they taunted me, and as I set them free they grew wilder and louder with their chorus of threatening voices."

Haha, I like the idea of an antagonizing story. ^_^ It's very true, and you expressed it pretty well.

Now as much as I love (LOVE) Harry Potter, you begin to digress here. We don't need two paragraphs on Harry Potter - remember your topic!

Alright, as far as nitpickiness goes, that's about it! I like the themes and ideas that you're presenting here, but I feel as though they're still half-developed; this seems very stream-of-consciousness, which I like, but you also need to ensure that you don't get off course too much or become too vague and change the subject too quickly. Allow us to really capture the images that you're creating and the emotions that you're feeling. Right now, it feels as though they're almost there, as though we're on the brink of truly tapping into your psyche and then you change the channel.

That being said, I really did enjoy reading this. I would love to see you put more time and effort into this, and perhaps allow for the concept to draw itself out a little further. It feels a bit rushed, but I loved reading it nonetheless.

Keep writing, and best wishes. xxx




Cailey says...


Hey there, thanks for the review! I was rushing, since for this piece I was just letting my words write themselves. Also, I meant to make it sound like the stream of conciousness, and most of the jumbled sentences were meant to sound that way in order to reflect the confusion of the words that are being described.
Anyway, maybe someday I will take the time to edit and really improve this, and I'll look back at your review. So, thank you!




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