Writing a story is complex
Just then my mother looked into my room looking curiously and said “Hey there need help with something.” I tilted my head and opened one of my eyes. “Just writing a story mom” On her face there was a look that consisted of a mixture of please tell me my own kid did not forget how to write, interest like a little kid and why didn’t I tell her. “Heyyyyy think I can maybe help,” she said like a kid, which couldn’t help but make you smile. “No thanks mom I can get this sooner or later….or really later..” I said smiling a bit. She pouted and said awed before shuffling out of my room. Of course I knew it was jokingly. She always used her kid act at times for fun.
Once she left I leaned back on my bed again trying to think of an idea. I tried everything I could to get some sort of creativity going. Shuffled through iTunes, imed friends and played a puzzle game. Still I had nothing that inspired me to write. Mentally I had given up and that was the moment it hit me. I shot right up and began writing. Grinning at my laptop and said to myself thinking I was a genius “A story about a story…how perfect...” Before I allowed to let myself let out my genius life I continued to type on happily.