Awkward Writing Novels & Stories

Few times Isaac tried to distract me which really helped. Inside was a world of socialising. The people I never knew talked to me like we were friends. My face definitely showed how awkward I was but still they kept on talking. Isaac made things more awkward by giving answers to the question asked to me. So even though I found a few people bearable, I was not able to talk to them. I was drained after only spending a few minutes. Isaac's hold on my waist was really not helping. Sometimes his hold on my waist would get so hard for unknown reasons that a whimper would erupt through my lips.

I blurted. Awkwardness, a dance of missteps and misunderstandings, where words stumble and silence speaks volumes. It's a delicate balance between humor and discomfort, a canvas painted with shades of embarrassment and uncertainty, creating a tapestry of human vulnerability and imperfection. ‘I don't want to be here!’

And harry leans in . Towards me. GOD. Should i stay? Should i lean too? I pick the latter. Our lips barely touching. Just when i think we are gonna kiss , his phone rings. AWKWARD. We both jump back instantly after hearing the ringtone. He picks his phone and says something. After a while we both don't say something so i try to break the ice cold silence. "Awkward." i chuckle. "Yeah. It was awkward . Should we um?" "Yeah. We should"

I immediately froze at that question. “Awkward? Why would it be awkward? It isn’t like we kissed because we wanted to or something! We just had to so that we could leave without Aria shouting at us and stuff like that. You know, it should never be awkward between friends. Awkwardness can drive the bestest of friends away from each other. It can break friendships and complicate things.” I ranted. “Ellie, are you okay?” Damien asked when I was done with my rant.

I explain awkwardly. “You know, a little bit of awkwardness is normal right? I’m not saying this to be pushy and you can obviously do whatever you want to do. But sometimes if you delay things too long it makes it harder. I do that, I avoid doing something because I’m scared of it and then it builds up into this big thing until the thought of it makes me freak out. Then when I eventually have no choice, it usually turns out to be not nearly as scary as I expected.” I consider for a moment. “Something uncomfortable, like watching a rom com?” I question, gesturing at the waiting TV. Megan shrugs.

This is awkward. As I lay there on the bed, trying to focus on the ceiling, the tension in the room was palpable. His pacing back and forth only added to the awkward silence. I could feel his restlessness in every step he took. It was like we were dancing around an unspoken issue, both avoiding the elephant in the room. The air was heavy with unsaid words and I couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind.

It requires me to be precise about things I did, which means being precise about who I was when I did them, which is uncomfortable in the specific way of holding your own past at arm's length and describing it accurately. I find myself writing sentences that begin with "The subject then proceeded to" and "It was determined that" and other constructions designed to distance the writer from the action. I deleted them. I rewrote it. I force myself to say "I did this" and "I chose that" and "I was wrong when." The discomfort of it is the point. If it doesn't hurt to write, I'm not writing the truth.

he flashes a comical glare towards Dakota, his behaviour friendly as if he were trying to appease any worries that I may have about them, “-how’re you feeling?” Opening the notepad, I reach the first clean page and click the lid of my pen. Clasping it shakily, I scribble away, trying to keep my writing readable as it appears to resemble that of a toddler’s compared to my own usual neat handwriting. Pressing down hard as if learning to write all over again, I restrain the urge of sticking my tongue out in concentration before thankfully penning the simple response of, “sore”. “I bet you do, little wolf,” he remarks agreeably.

Awkward! "It's alright" I repeated after clearing my throat , I hopped off from the slab, arranged my clothes and walked away. Gosh!.

No reason to panic. “So, um, this is awkward,” Avery mutters, wringing her hands together. I agree with her on that. This is an extremely awkward situation. Which is why she needs to leave right now, before it grows even more awkward. She. Doesn’t. Still. I’d have admired her courage if it weren’t pissing me off so much.