Epic Failure

After being back for five or so days and doing nothing but enjoying my break, I’ve slowly come to the realization that I haven’t been writing. Perhaps I arrived at this from reading someone else’s [hm, spell check why do you mark that wrong] blog and noticing how often he posts his short stories [which are incredibly short indeed, and not very well formed]. They remind me of how I write when I’m not really into it, when I just write for the sake of being able to say that yes, I have written something today. I’ve come to understand that that isn’t what it means to write. If I’m going to write something, I want to be able to truly write something that creates feeling in the reader, something that can travel from one of the spectrum to the other all within ten minutes time of reading [and perhaps writing!]

It is a difficult task indeed.

And since I haven’t been writing my alphabet stories, I suppose I should continue.

Okay, so after writing the story for today [letter O] I realized it is complete crap and I have no idea where I was going with it. But here it is.


Out of all of the cheerleaders, Amanda was the only one who couldn’t afford to buy a designer bag. This didn’t make her upset, but it did cause for some awkward moments. Sitting on her side of the bench in the locker room, listening to the other girls talking about whose father had just bought them Coach or Gucci sometimes made Amanda cringe a little inside. It was especially worse when the girls would turn to her and ask about her father.

Amanda’s sweet, graying father was only a teacher. He raised Amanda and her sister by himself after his wife’s death ten years ago. Each day was a struggle but it was also a happiness, learning by his side and helping to teach her younger sister. So Amanda didn’t mind that she couldn’t brag to all of the other cheerleaders about her father’s non-existent yacht or the cruises they were going on that summer.

“Hey, Amanda,” one of the girls said.

Amanda looked up from tying her white tennis shoes on her feet. “Yea?”

“We’re gonna head out. Are you almost ready?”

“Just a second.” Amanda tied the double-knot and grabbed her blue and white duffel bag, the one that held her uniform, her pompoms, and extra pair of sneakers, a spare change of clothes, and her water bottle. Then she followed the team through the doors and down the steps to the grassy football field.

“Alright girls, huddle up!” their coach said, once all of the girls assembled. She held a brown clipboard in her right hand that clamped down pieces of paper in the strong wind that tore at their tracksuits. “The competition’s in two weeks. We’ve almost got the routine down but now we’ve really got to get it perfect. I don’t want anyone missing a beat.”

A blonde girl towards the back raised her hand and asked before being called on, “Coach, why’re we practicing outside?”

“Because I just found out the competition is going to be held in an outdoor arena. Since there’s probably going to be grass around and it will probably be windy, it’s time to incorporate that into our practices. Okay, let’s get into our positions!” The coach blew her whistle and the girls walked onto the center of the field.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up. Why are you reading a story about cheerleaders, Stacey Ann?”

At the sound of the voice, Stacey Ann shut the book and looked around for the boy. Ronald walked over, the sun at his back, forcing Stacey Ann to shield her eyes in order to look at the tall blonde. “How can you see what I’m reading all the way from back there?”

“I know the kind of stuff you like. It was just a guess but I see that I was right.” He stooped down to pick up the book but she moved it out of the way. “Come on, just let me have a look.”

“No! You’ll make fun of me!”

“I already do. A little more won’t hurt.”

She pushed him away and hid her book in her backpack. “What do you want, Ronald? If you’re just here to make fun of me, I’m leaving.” She placed an arm through one of the straps of her bag and braced her hand on the ground to help push herself up. Ronald reached over and took her bag from her, the patted the ground next to her.

“Stay. I won’t say anything, promise.”

She looked at him with an eyebrow raised, then settled back into the flattened grass. They sat in silence for awhile, looking across the grass at the large brick school building both of them had left a half hour ago.

“When’s your mom picking you up?” he asked.

“She’s not. Sarah’s got a tennis lesson.”

“Oh. Wanna walk home together then?”

“Not really. It’s so nice out and it would just be lonely at home so I figured I’d read for a bit here.”

“Hence the book. Gotcha.” He bobbed his head a little bit and then got up, wiping the back of his jeans with his pale hands. “I’ll catch you later then. I’ll be at home if you get bored.” Then he walked back over the hill and down towards the main road.

Stacey Ann settled into the grass but didn’t take out her book. It had lost its grip on her the moment she had been interrupted and she wondered if she might have been better off stealing the cookbook instead of that book from the bookstore instead.


I’ll be updating about Florence soon!

[Edit] Just wanted to add-10 followers! Woohoo! So excited! Okay, way too many exclamation marks there. Gotta keep writing.


0 Responses to “Epic Failure”

  1. Leave a Comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Where the Readers Write


Follow Me on Pinterest

Creative Content Copyright

Unless specified, all writing and pictures are written and taken by me.

%d bloggers like this: