Hello dear readers.
[Hint: just skip this Chapter if you don't want to waste time, but if you'd like to hear my inner voice, please continue.]
I am, as you may have figured, a novice writer. Inspired to write my own fictional stories and share them with fellow readers–wonderful people like you–to read,
I am writing this and thinking, what the neck am I doing? what cringe stuff am I jotting down?
“My writing sucks, my stories sucks, everything sucks!” my mind was on rampage on its own.
But nonetheless I wrote this, to inform you guys how the story came to be, and how I plan to make it.
First of all, I had planned to start multiple stories before, and I mean a hell lot of ideas floated in my head at that time, one makes you forget the other. But my weak self deemed them too good to be ruined by my inexperienced writing style, granting them the tickets of VIP class seat in my .
—These were my illusions and starting writer hallucinations.
But as days kept going (well, time waits no one), I noticed that I made no progress in all those tries. I realized I am doing something wrong, even though I read too many articles and books concerning how to write novels and stuff, I even wrote some short stories (total trash to be honest), but my mood just kept on worsening, making it even harder to spill ideas and get the courage to put the pen on paper (or finger on phone).
Something needed to change, and it should happen before my head explodes, then it happened.
My head blanked as I stared at the only solution I had, the best one ever: just write, even if garbage. No matter how fancy the idea may play on your head, it's going to suck when drafted the first time. You just have to refine it like a gem, no overplanning needed.
I also saw a post of someone advising: just start with a simple idea, keep the story simple, with simple structure, simple characters, simple worldbuilding… keep it simple for your simple mind. Gain experience, then upgrade as you refine your writing style… since it sucks. (This advice is for you big brainy writer)
Jokingly, it hit me hard on my itching brain, but I took it seriously. So, I stopped for a couple of days to reset my mind and give it time to refunction again, and it happened again.
An idea struck: “A guy with two guns.”
At first, it was a simple idea I thought of based on: I just have to start with something to learn from, no need to complicate things. just one plot is enough, just one place is enough, just one character, just, just… Make it so easy to write but interesting and enjoyable.
It sounds easy, but for me? That was total torture! Because I had to call the to arrest my every time they roamed my brain, put them in prison and let my mind feel the freedom of .
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Anyways, the important thing is that I had to focus on the single word: Simple.
And so, my days went by again… to my defeat.
Honestly, I couldn't stop it from happening. I just couldn't close door, and my process of fleshing out what was supposed to be a , had deviated to invent a concept.
Truly ADHD symptoms, not gonna lie.
Now looking at my s’ brainstorming document, I felt the urge to add more, but I called Officier , who put on the cuffs of to bind my hands.
I don't know what to say looking back and seeing my anxiously scheming days bloom for the first time into a flower bed.
“But I sure am proud of myself and happy that I took the first step, braved my soul and moved forward. An act only hardened warriors develops from continuous failed battles.” I gazed at the setting sun with a melancholic smile, hands clapped behind my back as I stood at the edge of the cliff that I had just climbed, my mysteriously glowing robes fluttering with the wind.
“I did indeed wrestle with my brain.”
I shuckled, feeling relieved now that my excited heart returned after witnessing progress. I turned around with newfound energy, ready to tackle the next step on the stair, only to be greeted with a sight that erased my smug smirk.
Ahead, there was a huge mountain, prompting me to raise my head 90o. Reading that appeared before me, I felt tears sliding down my face, streaming hot on my skin.
—Tud!
My knees weakened, so I crashed to the hard ground, the pressure of the task sinking in. My non-existent white beard soaked in the blood I tore.
BUT!
I struggled to lift my hand and bring it piercing downward, clutching the dirt within my gasp as I pulled with all my might, grinding my slumbered body to move forward, my eyes resolute!
No way! I ain't giving up! Not after I sweated my spine off to write those long worded documents with interrupted sleep!
“Let the world behold, I shall conquer this stair of madness!!” I shouted.
So, fellow reader, this was how I started my first published web novel: Twin Guns Player.
Though the story isn't some overcomplicated work, I promise it will be a fun long ride if you give it a chance. The story turned out to be far from simple, that's why I just started with the First Volume: The Mysterious Game.
I hope if you found the story to your taste, you won't forget to comment your opinions for me to learn from, they are the source of inspiration and motivation.
I also appreciate the time you give to the story.
— —
Back in my house.
“Wait, you didn't tell us what to expect!”
Suddenly, a clocked person jumped in from my window. On my desk, I froze at the sight of the double muzzles pointed at me, it was a shotgun!
“Uhh, Who… are you?” I asked, shaking.
“Answer the damn question! I don't have much patience, so what do we expect from the story? Hurry!” He demanded in a harsh tone, his finger slowly pulling the trigger backward, making my heart skip a beat.
I stumbled, not knowing what to do, but decided to just tell him what he wanted.
“I, I… you can expect a good… um, story, and…”
“Cut the crap and get to the point!”
“Ah! good chapters! I mean 4 chapters a week… until I get to the flow. Ummm… a lot of action, shooting stuff! umm… also, good worldbuilding.. i promise i will release more, please just spare m–”
—Bang!
He shot.
A shot was heard while my head got blasted, and I was erased.
(I don't even know how I witnessed that, but yes, he killed me and I can still speak… weird, I know.)
“liars everywhere, promise my neck!” he grumbled, anger between his brows, “can't even form a straight word yet want to write a story. We need to erase such an existence, they just ruin the fun.”
The figure loaded the long shotgun, then…
He added two bullets to make sure I was finished, before he disappeared.
(Familiar? Also yes, I know.)
