What’s in a story?

Tamora Pierce once said that writing is like training for a marathon.

“Don’t worry if you never finish all the stories you start. You wouldn’t expect yourself to run a marathon straight away. You train yourself by running short distances. So keep practising, keep writing, and you’ll build up the muscles you need for the full novel.”

This takes me back to my first few attempts at storytelling. I always wondered why I could never get past the beginning:

In primary school, I set up a beautiful description of a haunted house and then nothing happened. The story just fizzled out.

In intermediate, I was so fixated with perfecting every word, that I never got past the first sentence.

And then somewhere in adulthood, I decided to get one word past the beginning, then one line past the beginning, and then, one sentence!

I can now write two chapters in one sitting. Kind of ok, right?

So, this is what it looks like when you start training yourself for that novel:

When you write often, you begin to see the kinds of stories you care about.

When you write long enough, you begin to use your own words.

When you write everyday, you begin to develop the ability to sit still for hours.

When you write even when you hate your writing, you develop patience and endurance.

And when you write each and every day, you’ll realise how powerful words with direction can be.

That’s what a story is. Not how perfect the words are, but the direction they’re taking you; towards that sentence, towards that paragraph, towards that chapter and finally, towards that last word in your novel.

How great would that feel?

Do you ever keep your dreams hidden?

Dear dream,

I don’t care that I’ve kept you hidden. That nobody knows about you. You’re like a special treasure kept inside a box, there for me to take out when I need you the most. I’m only afraid that you won’t ever see the light of day.

When people question me, when they doubt my abilities or my friendship, as long as I have you, I won’t be completely devastated. You give me purpose.

So I promise, that I will work on you, during stormy weathers like today, but not just when I need you, during sunshiny days too, and when I look upon you again, in a few years time, or shorter, I might surprise myself and see something completely full.