Apr. 27th, 2012

whatawaytoburn: ([Misc[ Save Yourself)
Note: Uhm yeah, I feel like this may require a slight warning as there is violence. Kind of. Yeah, I don't know....


I know you won't believe me, I know you'll think I'm insane, that I'm just one of those writers who's too deep in their own head, who believes in their stories too much but I'm not.

I was like you once. I thought stories were stories, I thought they were words on a page, on a screen. I thought the words were mine to weild. I thought I had power and I could throw that power around and do whatever I wanted.

I was wrong.

Becuase stories bite back. Stories bite and tear and rip at you when your'e not looking. They're clever like that, they don't hunt you down, they don't run you ragged, they chip away at you, they break you down quietly. They make you feel every letter you put down, every word, every punctuation mark.

They they break you down slowly, just as you broke down a plot, a character, a scene. They break you down.

Not all stories, no. Not all of them have the heart but some? SOme catch you when you're not looking, some work on you for hours, days, weeks at a time until you're nothing left, nothing but a characture, a puppet for the story to play with.

You become the Story and the Story, vicious as it is, becomes you.

But remember what I said about ahving teeth? Having claws? Remember that, you are never helpless, every story has fangs, every story has a chance to survive.

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whatawaytoburn: (Default)
Screaming loud enough to turn back the wind.

August 2012

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