For the past two weeks Hannah and I decided it would be a good idea to write a piece of flash fiction together. In other words, I created the premise of the story and a week later Hannah finished it by creating a vivid and imaginative world filled with more unique characters and a wonderful ending. At first, the idea of writing with another person seemed daunting. I really did not think it was possible to create a well-written story from two different minds. Through reading countless books, it is easy to realize that almost all writers have a unique style that differs from one another. Thus, writing our story frightened me a bit; causing me to fear it would not be very good. However, Hannah and I came to realize our thoughts complimented each other and the task of writing a story, as a cohesive unit, was amusing and liberating.
In the upcoming week, Hannah and I will switch roles. Hannah will construct the beginning as well as the premise of a creative story and I will write the ending of it. Additionally, in an attempt to stay true to poetry, Hannah and I will write a poem together, where we’ll explain where our creativity came from and how we went about constructing the poem.
Often times, writers suffer from writer’s block or come to deal with the monotony of writing without drastic change. While it is easy to go to r/writingprompts on Reddit or Google fun and insightful writing topics, I suggest calling a friend to try and write a story or poem together. Not only are two heads better than one, but also a friend may be the jump-start you need in order to get your creative juices flowing. You’d be surprised how well your and your friend’s writing compliments each other. In response to my own writer’s block, I decided to share with you a piece of prose that captures what writer’s block is to me:
I have not written in two months, three weeks and six days. Admittedly, it is my own fault. I have grown tired, lazy. There is a sickness that still rests within me. It is oil, black tar, a thing from nightmares; crawling from the back of my throat only to swallow itself and spread like cancer.
I have never had a muse, nor will I set off on some grand adventure to find one. I write from heartbreak, from the pain of the things I’ll never experience, from places I’ll never see. I sit down to write a poem about nothing in particular; with each word fumbling to create a sentence, I hope for gold. I pray for aspiring genius to flood the paper and capture feelings that no one can decipher.
It is a vicious cycle, to be a writer. One day you stumble upon a combination of letters that makes everyone believe the truth in words. Like a curse from a fairytale, it lingers in the background of my life, gazing back from the darkness when I can see no light. I start to think I’ll spend forever trying to capture perfection on a piece of paper that will surely crumble to dust long before people do. #InternIan