Write What You Want! Novels & Stories

Breathe in one two three four five Breathe out one two three four five "If you ever catch yourself wondering why you're doing this, just remind yourself that you're doing this for whatever hobby or interest or collection that you're doing and that there are better things to be doing with your time that you're not doing because you're working, because you need the money to be doing the things that you love, alright? You're doing this to write that novel, to make that painting, or pottery piece, or to buy those tulips for your garden. Not because you like standing around while some lady, with her screaming toddler, screams in your face and spits on ya', alright?"

Len says, gaining my attention once again. “How would I be able to do that?” I ask confused. I am not a teacher, and I don’t really want to teach teenagers how to act and behave, especially when I know very little about their world. “You run this empire, just let them see that.” “And if they don’t want to know?” I ask. More likely that they are not going to want to be told what to do by someone younger than them, especially if that person is a girl. “Then you can tell me, and we will leave them to their own devices. But I am hoping that you will give them the shove they need to finally step up and become the men they should be rather than the children they are.”

Without, without external validation that I was worth something. "I need to think about it," I said. "Really think. Not just react. Not just, just do what seems obvious. I need to think." "Okay. Think. You have two weeks. Use them. Figure out what you actually want. Not what you think you should want. Not what's practical or smart or, or financially responsible. What you want. Deep down. Really want." "What if I don't know? What if I've spent so long being practical and responsible that I don't know what I want anymore?"

I want this plan to be successful, no matter what. ***

I intoned lazily. “You know, you should thank your stars that I’m not a woman. Women are always angry when a man remembers them just because they want something,” he drawled grumpily. I chuckled. “You’re right, and I’m quite happy you’re not a woman. It would have been awkward.” “So, what is it you want?” “I want you to track down two people. Just track down one, and the other will be within grasp. I’ll send you their personal information.” I paused, serious now. “I’d be really grateful if you could give it your all, Vix.”

Well actually it says dick head. Sighing, I swipe up to answer. “What do you want from me?” “I just want you to give me the chance to explain everything. Will you please hear me out?” “Fine. I am about to head out to get something to eat. Meet me at Olive Garden in 30 minutes.” “Ok. Done. See you then.”

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Please know that your encouragement motivates me to strive for excellence in my writing. Warmest regards, [18th Studios.]

"This is what you want." I gasped.

(tell me) What should I do?