Questions

I have serious writers block.

I want to write a novel for girls aged approximately 13 .. 14 maybe.

I never publish them, it is just for fun a little hobby in my spare time, the only thing is lately i am stuck for ideas.

I usually write them about girls who are just going through life, some are very rich and are born with a silver spoon and meet the opposite and all that kind of things. I have written them about girls that live in animosity and need help, and all kinds of things about lives of a teenage girl ..

However i seem to be stuck for any inspiration …
Writing about their relationships with boys is frankly rather boring,
and writing about soppy sap is also quite tiresome, but i am really looking for that real inspiration that gets me writing with my head down ,,

Any ideas? .. I would very thankful ..

thank you x
- Big H

So that I can learn more about what the h*ll goes in a guy’s head…

Fact or fiction?
1) Guys think about sex everyday. Or Every hour?

2)Guys rarely cry. They find chick flicks boring since they are inherently unemotional.

3) Guys think about quantity and not quantity. I.e the more people the have sex with, the more confident they feel about themselves. The person’s personality is not the issue.

4) Guys think girls are high maintenance, picky, and weak (i.e pussies when it comes to physical challenges, sports, etc..)

0__0 I also asked for dating advice, but I have nothing specific in mind..so anything goes.
- Calamity

I saw this cute guy at the cafe reading “One Hundred Years of Solitude” and he looked so sexy to me. I find it rare to see guys reading in public unless it is a newspaper.
What are you reading right now?
- ?

Okay, I’m writing a story about a girls whose Dad lives in the USA but gos-es on far too many trips to the Uk where he starts an affair. Only problem is i Don’t know what type of job the dad could have? He has to be earning lots.
- Hanna

So this is the first 4 chapter of my NaNoWriMo story, and I would like to know if you like it or not.

Tempus Fidgets
Chapter One
My nails were almost finished. I hated getting manicures; they were quite annoying, but he said that the silver only looked good with another color. I had chose a dark maroon, and the male manicurist said that it looked orange over my light silver. I could never understand what was the thing about guy people who painted nails. I mean, isn’t that for girls? I felt more comfortable with other girls painting my nails. Well, technically, I didn’t like anyone to paint my nails. Not even myself. I was never a “girly” type of girl. I didn’t ever mind it, but I didn’t see why they had to put the most advanced technology in nail polish. It was probably the most inconspicuous. No one would think that we had special powers because of silver nail polish.

I always wished that they would have told us how they did it. All we knew, was that when someone was dead, if they were touched with the nail where the nail polish was applied, it would somehow jumpstart their heart. Sure, we got paid a really good amount. We get about six people per day about five hundred dollars per person. I just didn’t see any reason in it. People were supposed to die. Why was I picked as one of the few who were supposed to disrupt that? I didn’t mind much, it had just been bugging me lately. And I got a free apartment and free food. So all of that money that I get for resurrecting goes for stuff that I really don’t even need. Usually that is on clothes and unnecessary jewelry that Mark keeps telling me to get. He says that it makes me look more normal.

Who is Mark, you may be asking? He is one of my fellow resurrecters, and the one who referred me to them. We had been friends in Arizona and he moved to Virginia when we were still in Middle School. That was three years ago, when I was thirteen and he was twelve. The resurrecters took him away two years later, when he was fourteen. When he heard news of me running away, he told them about me. They came to the small town in Arizona called Mesa and took me to Reston, Virginia. At first I thought that I was being kidnaped, because they hadn’t told me anything on the way there. The first thing that they did was take me to Mark, in hopes that he could calm me down. They asked me weird questions on the plane ride. (They brought me there in a private jet!) They were questions like “What do you want to be when you grow up?” and “Do you believe that you are here to save people?”. I had no idea what they wanted from me, or my answers, so I kept my mouth shut. When they brought me to Mark, I felt relieved. It seemed that he wasn’t about to explain anything either, because he started to ask me some of the same questions.

Then, one of the people that I had rode with in the plane came in. As he tried to explain everything to me, I was surprised. I was sure that they could both see it in my face. “It is hard to comprehend at first, but after a while it starts to make sense,” Mark mumbled quietly.

“No, Mark, it doesn’t make sense at all! People are supposed to die when it is their time,” I tried to explain how I was feeling, but it wasn’t working, “Why would you take someone away from that? Nobody wants to live forever.”

“Over time, you will find that very untrue,” the man from the jet stated, “Everyone tells us how glad they are when we resurrect them.”

“Well, I am sorry, but this job isn’t for me. I would like to go home now, if you don’t mind,” I croaked, trying to push the man out of the way.

“I’m afraid that you already know too much, Tempus. You are with us now,” he said patiently. I glared at Mark and said,

“Why did you do this to me? I liked my life how it was, not with you ruining it for me.” I kept glaring at him for a few more seconds when the man grabbed me by the arms and pushed me out of the room.

“Sorry,” Mark cried, “I thought that you would want this. To be here. To be with me.”

So that is how this whole resurrecting buisness started for me. By now, I had forgiven Mark, but I still think that its wrong to do what we do. I couldn’t stop it now for two reasons. 1) As you know, I know too much. 2) The smiles from the family that you get when you bring home the not-so-dead-anymore body.

So I stayed. I didn’t nessisarily mind doing it anymore, and it WAS a great way to make money. Seeing Mark again was also a plus. The biggest minus for me, was the parents. I know, I know. I ran away. I shouldn’t miss them. But I do. More than anything. If I could just see the smile on my mom’s face again, or have another one of those comforting hugs from dad, I would be happier to be here. But I hadn’t had one of those. For almost two years. I wrote a letter a while back. Here is what it said:

Dear Parents,
I love you. I miss you. But I can’t see you anymore. And I can’t tell you why, and its really bugging me. My only wish now is for you two to reali
Um . . . it didn’t do it . . .
Nanowrimo.org if you want to learn more about it, whoever mentioned that.

It’s not supposed to be a parody. I had to mention the nail polish, because that is how the resurrecters heal people (it’ll make more sense later in the story.) So ya, it’s totally serious, and here is a link if you wanna read more:

http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/28933.Tempus_Fidgets?chapter=1
You guys can’t really say anything when you haven’t read the rest . . . I’m not complaining, I l am just saying that the rest of the story isn’t like this at all.
- JetLinkon

The story is about a dork boy and a popular girl who are best friends and the girls bf is abusive and a cheater and stuff.
dont criticize me about my story. i need to get over writers block NOW.
- lizzy