Bath
January 13th, 2011, 06:07 AM
After some inspiration from my therapist, I decided to start writing a book. This beginning few paragraphs I've worked hard on, but I can always improve it. I think the beginning is the most important part of a book.
Just tell me what you think.
" Dear Journal, (or whatever you'll be used as,)
Let’s get down to business. I’m not here to write fairytales, disguising myself in flowery words to falsely remember how poetic I was at such a young age. I’m not pouring out hopes and wishes, like stupid dreamers do, in attempt to escape from my own mind. No. I’m here to record my reality. I bought this journal to share my story. I’m not killing my heart to impress you, reader.
Lucy Lynn is my name, and I’ve been breathing for fifteen years. I originally walked into Wal-Mart to buy a soda, or maybe new shampoo, or whatever the ten dollars on my debit card could afford. This notebook was only two dollars, small and black with an azure floral design. I could write my life in here, right? Spilling out what’s trapped inside my head.
I used to be a dreamer, now the sad thing is my emotions have faded. No, the real sad thing is, I can’t even cry anymore.
Oh, look, secrets already."
I used to write poetry and short stories all the time but I haven't written anything in a while so obviously I'm going to need some constructive criticism. I'm hoping to have this done by my 16th birthday.
Just tell me what you think.
" Dear Journal, (or whatever you'll be used as,)
Let’s get down to business. I’m not here to write fairytales, disguising myself in flowery words to falsely remember how poetic I was at such a young age. I’m not pouring out hopes and wishes, like stupid dreamers do, in attempt to escape from my own mind. No. I’m here to record my reality. I bought this journal to share my story. I’m not killing my heart to impress you, reader.
Lucy Lynn is my name, and I’ve been breathing for fifteen years. I originally walked into Wal-Mart to buy a soda, or maybe new shampoo, or whatever the ten dollars on my debit card could afford. This notebook was only two dollars, small and black with an azure floral design. I could write my life in here, right? Spilling out what’s trapped inside my head.
I used to be a dreamer, now the sad thing is my emotions have faded. No, the real sad thing is, I can’t even cry anymore.
Oh, look, secrets already."
I used to write poetry and short stories all the time but I haven't written anything in a while so obviously I'm going to need some constructive criticism. I'm hoping to have this done by my 16th birthday.