A Writer’s Antics

There will be no pictures in this article.

Just a writer’s antics (I just broke the rule of blogging by repeating the title in the body of the article.)

You know how like, in school, you finish a project and then you have this narrow window of freedom where you can kind of do whatever you want for 12 hours until you need to start revving up your studious engine again?

That window is right now.

R. N.

Rare Noodles.

So I decided to fix up a project’s world building I was working on before.

And also do a little writing.

As I was writing, I came to a scene where a character holds a gun for the first time.

I have never held a gun.

So, like any good writer, I ask Google, what does it feel like to hold a gun? I wanted some surface description but I got none. Not even anything about what it feels like in the hand. Nothing.

I don’t even know if a gun is made out of iron or plastic or what.

I don’t even know how heavy or light it is.

PING! (that’s the sound that I heard when I remember something)

I remembered that I had a dream that I was a rebellious girl belonging to an organization. We were in a car chase with the police behind us, and we were in a van.

The police come up on the side of the car.

I take out a gun. I cock the gun. I shoot. (What does it mean to cock a gun anyway?)

The gun was a bit weighty.

I DO know a gun is weighty! But how can I know that if I had never held one before?

I have never even seen a gun in real life. Just the movies.

Speaking of my dreams, I have a lot of dreams where I belong to some organization and we’re running from the police. But, they can never catch us! *sings*

Maybe,

maybe my dreams are telling me about my past life.

I don’t believe in past lives but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.

I have no proof they don’t. You have no proof they do. So…

We can say that what if it was true? Well, surely my past life self will wonder why I spend so much time indoors writing stories and being such an introvert ๐Ÿ˜›

Another thought I just had.

Maybe,

maybe my dreams are telling me about my parallel life.

I don’t believe in parallel lives but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.

I have no proof, you have no proof but we can say, what if it was true? That through dreams we get to experience our parallel lives?

That makes a cool story ๐Ÿ˜‰

And that, my friends, is how a writer comes up with a cool story idea.

I think that’s what this was about. Otherwise, I’ve successfully pulled you into my little world of procrastination ๐Ÿ˜‰

 

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