So many writing projects!

I have so many story ideas I want to write and they keep coming to me in dreams. I would write down a new story from a dream and forget about the last story I was working on. “Death of a Gothic Lolita” is a story I started in high school 5 or 6 years ago. It’s about a Gothic Lolita that had a curse on her. She dies and is reborn like a Pheonix every year. But her death is very painful and takes months. So she spends the remainder of the story trying to figure out who put the curse on her and how to break it.

But later that year I had a time-traveling dream and I wanted to write about that instead. It was set in the future where time travel is a worldwide business. My main characters dad went missing on a mission and she’s trying to find him but the organization he worked for is telling her to stay out of it. Of course she not going to leave then to find him. So she continues and lots of crazy things happen, I don’t want to spoil too much.

I actually made a new years resolution to write and publish the time travel story by the end of the year. That didn’t happen. I think I got stuck trying to plot the whole thing out. Because with a time travel novel there are so many variables you have to figure out and it’s a daunting task to do alone.

While I was writing/ procrastinating on the time travel story I started thinking about yet another two stories that came to my head while I was writing a couple of prompt I found. The first prompt was “She stood there swinging her wand wildly and yelling the chant over and over. But no matter what she did the horse didn’t sprout and wings nor even a feather.”

With this prompt, I was thinking of a fantasy world based off African Mythology where these people are so connected to the God’s and Goddess they worship that they were granted magical powers. However, my main characters magic isn’t as strong as her sisters and she feels like she’ll never catch up to her sister’s greatness.

The second prompt was “The fire licked her fingers like a puppy welcoming an old friend.” With this prompt, I imagined my main character died in an accident but she was reborn as an Angel. But her guardian Angel was busy so he didn’t tell her until a few months after. So now she has to learn how to be an Angel.

And now after going to the Women in the Arts museum, I got some inspiration to create a comic featuring a black female lead. I have her name and her super powers but I don’t have an origin story for her or a plot yet.

I have five stories I want to write. And I want to write them all! But I should choose one and stick to it. And I think I’m going to start with “Death of a Gothic Lolita” since it was the first one that got me into writing in the first place.

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Organizing My Poetry – Update on The Fog

I didn’t think this was going to be so difficult. I thought I knew exactly where I wanted every poem to be. But after reading and rereading my poetry I’m not sure anymore. I’m over thinking it, no surprise there. But this is my first collection and I want it to be perfect. I don’t know what story I want to tell or how to start or finish it. I just have a theme. Depression, how it feels, how I deal, and how I try to explain it.

I was thinking about starting from childhood. Poetry about the strong little girl I use to be and how I miss her. But I haven’t written poetry about that nor do I know how. It might come to me after some deep thinking and research. I might have to ask my parents about who I use to be. I was thinking of following that with my rape and how that may have been the beginning of my depression. I feel like I was forced to grow up pretty fast and my childhood hasn’t been the same since it happened. I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone and it just kept happening and I kept thinking about it. Then I stopped thinking about it. Trying to ignore it. Trying to erase it from my memories forever. It worked for a while. Until it happened again when I got older. And again with someone I thought could trust.

I feel like I was forced to grow up pretty fast and my childhood hasn’t been the same since it happened. I felt like I couldn’t tell anyone and it just kept happening and I kept thinking about it. Then I stopped thinking about it. Trying to ignore it. Trying to erase it from my memories forever. It worked for a while. Until it happened again when I got older. And again with someone I thought could trust.

Then maybe I’ll follow that with the little girl I use to be, imprisoned in the fog. And how I didn’t try to set her free. Because sometimes I feel like I didn’t try hard enough to free myself before it got bad. I feel like I did this to myself. If I had just talked to my parents instead of letting it brew in my head and heard for so long. I would be more successful. Right? I’ll never really know of course.

I think I like this direction. And all I needed was to type it out. I guess now I should write another 15-30 small noticings and try to build poems from those.

Stay tuned for more updates on The Fog!