It's been a week since I wrote my last short story. I called
it "Perfect". It was a story about a young boy who has no
problems in his life. At the end of the story, the boy was
killed by a shoplifter. It was supposed to be the story that
would present my talent to the world. The story that every
important publisher would hear about. It was supposed to be
the most important story that I would ever write in my
entire life. There was only one problem. It was a bad story.
Not only was it bad, it was horrible. The characters were
unbelievable, the storyteller was a two-faced hypocrite and
the story was badly paced. Everything about it was bad. It
was the worst story that I have ever written.
I tried to rewrite it. The result was even worse then the
first story.
Since then, I haven't written a thing. I stopped making my
homework, I stopped writing messages for my sister, I even
stopped writing E-mails to my friends. What's the point of
writing if I can't write what I want to write? If my purpose
in life is to write short stories, why can't god let me
achieve that? Why is it that I can't finish the one story
that will secure my future as a short story writer?
Then again, maybe it was just a bad story after all.