Random writing

Writer's Block

I looked at the paper in front of me, writer's block had hit me like a truck, I had to make an entire story for my ELA class, with a beginning, an end, and all of that plotline, conflict, and character development junk in between. And I only had a week to do it! Mr. Harp said that I'll love this assignment because I can write, but all I ever write is poems, I don't know how to write an entire story! I considered making one of those stories that's made entirely out of poems, but Mr. Harp said it had to be like an actual novel style book. Ugh, I really do like ELA class, but sometimes I hate that guy.

I closed my notebook and sighed, maybe my dad will be able to help. I put my pencil behind my ear and went to the kitchen, carrying my notebook with me. And low and behold there was my dad, making dinner while talking to my older brother Markus about school or something.

For my whole life, it's just been the three of us. Markus said that dad took us from mom around a month after I was born, when he was only five years old. Apparently she was a really bad person, and she would hurt dad and Markus. He says she only cared about me because I was a girl, but now I'm a boy, and we live far away from where she was.

But enough of my sad and dramatic backstory(at least for now, there's a lot more to my life than that), let's just get back to the present.

I sat on a stool next to Markus and placed my notebook on the table, grumbling as I opened back to that same old empty page.

"Having' trouble with an assignment ey kid?" My dad said, turning from the sizzling pan on the stove to look at me.

"Yup, I have to write a whole novel for ELA, and I only have a week to do it!" I complained.

My dad chuckled and got a bottle of grape soda from the fridge, my favorite drink, and passed it to me, kind of like how in those movies a bartender will pass a drink to the main character as he talks about how sad his life is.

"Can't you use poems and stuff?" Markus asked.

"I wish, but I have to write it like an actual book! I hate it!" I answered.

"You could write about yourself, you've got a pretty interesting life don't ya?" My dad offered.

"Yeah but that's boring... even if I have an interesting life, no one wants to listen to my life story."

"Ooh, ooh, I've got an idea! You could write your life story but with a fantasy twist, like all the things you've had to deal with are big monsters and stuff!" Markus said.

I thought about that for a moment, it sounded like a good idea, I had no idea how to write a story like that but it felt like it'd be fun.

"Yeah, yeah I like that idea, it sounds like fun." I told him. Markus grinned, he always loved being right.

"Alrighty then, enough with all this school stuff, who wants stir-fry?" My dad said, ending that conversation.

After dinner, the three of us sat down and watched T.V until my dad forced us to get to bed, but I stayed awake. I sat at my desk, staring at my open notebook, I heard the faint sounds of Markus playing his acoustic guitar in the other room and I could vaguely hear him singing along, it was some song that he had practicing for about week or two, he never told me what it was called but I really like it. It's nice background music for when I'm trying to write.

Even though I now have an idea on what to write about, I still didn't know what to write. I don't know how to start the story off, or how to continue from the beginning, all I knew was that it was about my life but not. I wrote down the kind of story I had in mind, but that was it. I then closed my notebook and went to bed, the sound of a soft guitar playing as I drifted off to sleep.