Writer Point

Pilot Blog Post

Hello.

This marks my first blog post. I figured I'd start this because it's fun and a lot of cool writers do it, and it's both fun and cathartic. I plan on expanding my writing platform (from wattpad to include possible weebly wordpress or something else) and finishing some things (like the Infinity Vein and the art contest, and establish the creator's guild serial drama and also the CBF Testament play I'm writing to simplify my work. That said, I've officially lined up three novels (all pretty much with titles now *eep*) that I'm very excited about.

This all considered, in the way of actually writing a blog and updating it and how it works, I know not the thing. But I don't care, and I'm just going to try it. I'll most likely publish this to wattpad, and if people like it (some people, it doesn't have to be a lot) just let me know and I'll see if I can work on making it a more consistent and professional thing on an actual blog website as well.

"Now. Where to begin? Ah, yes..."

Unlike the very dear Bilbo Baggins, my story is not even begun, which I am sorry to say does not exempt me from the troubles of the road and the great big world. Although it no doubt keeps me shielded from too much at once.

Currently I'm working (or not) on a plethora of things and I'd rather not spin my wheels one more time by listing them yet again (as I have frequently on my social media platforms). That said, staying in the moment is important to keep one's immense vision from driving him or her insane. So right now, I'm writing my first blog post on my laptop on my dresser in my room. There's two empty Coca Cola bottles and a lamp to my right, and a lit Kitchen Spice Yankee candle to my left, and my water filter still left of that. (This makes my dresser sound very orderly. There's receipts, idea journals, HP stamps, a Hufflepuff lanyard, and more unimportant junk. But that junk is unimportant right now. Maybe I'll get into it later). I'm listening to the "Remember to Smile" piece in the Brave soundtrack and sipping some very nicely chilled Raspberry Arizona Iced tea from my fridge (Second brand name, I promise I'm not sponsored) if you'd like to know. Or if you wouldn't. I seem to have neglected giving you the option. (I'm talking to your expository language when Frodo wakes up in Rivendell, Gandalf).

That said, it's really good stuff, in my opinion. Not nearly as good as the Green Tea with Ginseng and Honey, (which is the best) but very good. My painting came down, the one I put up with command strips. I'm a bit disappointed, I really thought for a few days it was going to stay up. It's not that heavy.

It's a beautiful autumnal colored vase of flowers in yellow and orange on a green background, with a golden pot, but I'm immensely grateful to have found it. It was on the side of the road. Being an aesthetic scavenger really does pay off. It's my second painting like that I've picked up by the side of the road. The other is a beige backgrounded white and pink flower vase with a blue bowl. The art style is so similar I would have expected them to be by the same artist, but they're signed differently. The technique used to make the flowers must be a commonplace or at least well known technique.

And now to address what first gave me the idea to write this in the first place. I've been struggling with inner peace lately, so instead of doing something stupid in my house, I decided to do something artistic and stupid outside in the world. I was originally going to grab my guitar and drive to the beach (after putting some gas in it, of course, I share my mom's car and have to not use up all the gas unless I pay for it) but I went to the Library parking lot instead. It was like two minutes from my house. There were a few parked cars and a security truck there. So I parked, grabbed my guitar and went onto the roof of the 2006 Toyota Sienna, and started singing. I'd already been listening to/singing to the Lumineers, so I warmed up fully with that (although I can't play too many on the guitar yet). I know Angela and Sleep on the Floor, 'cause they're really simple. So after the song I was already listening to ended, I put on I See Fire by Ed Sheeran and played that.

Before I go on, I just want to say that that song was written for the second Hobbit movie, The Desolation of Smaug, and I have a sneaking suspicion that not enough people know that that song is about the family and Kin of Durin, Thorin and the dwarves of Erebor from Middle Earth. Moving on...

So by the second playthrough the security vehicle turned on its lights and started to wheel around, the siren lights silently flashing. I took one of my earbuds out in case the guard called out to me, but he didn't say anything. I kept playing and singing, (of course) surprised at how good (or not bad) I sounded, even if it was right along with the music.

When the truck finally pulled up, he called out and I realized I knew the security guard from high school. We caught up for a bit, and I wondered when and how he was going to ask me to leave. He eventually asked me if I could find another spot. I told him I would, and thanked him for being cool about it. Some people are just so nice and kind when they don't have to be, and something about that kills me. So I slid off the roof of the minivan, got my guitar, capo and case inside and after waving to him a final time, turned the car on and drove off.

I'm not gonna lie, having nothing but a wallet, a phone and a guitar in a large car with no particular place to go (except not right here) is a pretty solid feeling.

I never did find a spot quite as perfect, and I didn't really stop anywhere. I pulled into a few places, and drove past a few friend's houses because I was already on the way and in the area, but I didn't stop anywhere until I pulled back into my driveway with just over a half tank of gas left, which is about a fourth more than I got into the car with. So that'll be nice tomorrow morning I guess (well, later today, technically, it's 12:27) telling my mom that I put some gas in the car instead of spending it.

I wonder how people will react to this. Maybe it's too long, too scattered, or too me. But I didn't write it for that, as I always try to maintain with my other writing. If I'm not writing for me at all, I've failed as a writer. This felt good tonight, I hope I can continue it soon. But for now I'm going to return to the pages of Flamewing, and Ben Cloud-Rider's story. I've been stumped on where to take chapter 8 next for a while now, and it's time to push through and get a little closer to my 5,000 word target chapter size than my current twelve hundred.

I hope this was interesting for you to read as it was for me to write. I think this taught me a little about myself. I'm more artistic and brave than I thought I was. The old me wouldn't be teaching himself guitar or preparing songs for open mics (or writing them either, which I've started). The old me would have probably not even stopped in a parking lot with a security guard, let alone stuck around playing until he finally drove up to me. And the old me needed to write more. And I still do.

Some things never change, and sometimes that's because they never should.

I'm glad I need to write more, and I'm glad I am. So I guess then, I'll see you again on the page.

With sincerity and a pinch of fool's wisdom,

E. Christopher

P.S. If you liked this, want it to be a consistent content feature, and/or want me to publish this more professionally on a blog website as well, please comment and let me know so I can do that for you all lovely readers.