I’ve been working on my main fantasy story but there was a moment last week in which a scene from my paranormal story needed to be written. Here’s that piece:
“Don’t touch me.”
“I promise I won’t.”
“Don’t promise me anything. You took the one thing that made me want to live and now you want to make promises. What do you want from me?”
Kellan frowned, not knowing what he could do to mend what he was asked to do by the higher powers. There was no way to bring her father back. There was no trade off. “I just –“
“What? Do you want to take my life too? Tell me, if you take my life, will I see my dad? Because if I can then take me now.”
“I’m not going to take your life and I can’t take you to your father.”
“Then what are you still doing here?”
“I am mesmerized by you, Haylie. I’m sorry about your father, but –“
“You’re not sorry!” Haylie exclaimed, tears lined her eyes. “You are not sorry.”
“You’re right. I’m not sorry that I took your father’s life or that you’ll never see him again. I can’t be sorry for any of that because I don’t understand the connection you have with your father. I’m not human nor am I the kind of angel who understands how human’s work. That’s what I’m sorry for. If you’ll just let me explain myself, then at least you’ll know why I’m here.”
Haylie stared at Kellan with his dark wings like the silhouette of a giant creature over him. She folded her arms and waited for him to continue.
“The carrier angel couldn’t make it to your father, so I came in his place. I thought I could do the job quickly – release your father’s spirit and leave. But, you interrupted me. I could have ignored you but hearing your voice was like hearing an angel talk. I’ve heard humans talk, but I’ve never had one talk directly to me, especially one that sounded like one of us. What confuses me is that I felt something for you, a feeling beyond my control. If I were to use a human term for it, I think it would be called, love.”
“You don’t know what love is. You said it yourself, you’re not human.”
“Yes,” he simply agreed.
“Where is my dad or whatever became of him? His spirit?”
“I’m sor –“ Kellan caught himself. “I don’t know,” he answered.
“Where do you take the spirits?”
“We don’t take them anywhere. They know where they have to go.”
“And where’s that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You liar! If you’re really an angel, then you would know.”
“I’m not that kind of angel.”
“What kind are you?”
“The kind you’re not supposed to see or know about.”
“What’s the point of your kind?”
“To regulate all angels to make sure processes and procedures are followed through.”
“You must have a nice big office.”
“No office. In human terms, it’s like seeing into their hearts. We know if they are true to who they are and their duties.”
“And if not?”
“They leave the kingdom.”
“Fallen angels,” Haylie stated.
“You mentioned a carrier angel. Can one of those take me to see him?”
“No one can take you to him.”
“So, it’s true. Death is final. The pain of missing my dad is just a human thing.”
“I don’t believe you. You know why? Because you exist. Angels exists. For all I know my dad could be an angel.”
“He chose not to be one.”
“I asked him when I came to take him.”
“Why didn’t he want to be one?” Before Kellan answered, Haylie said, “Let me guess, you don’t know. You asked if he wanted to be one, but you didn’t bother to ask why not when he said, no. You don’t care to know because you were only doing someone else’s duty.” Kellen didn’t reply. Haylie shook her head from side to side in disbelief. “Why is your kind so cold? Why do you seem so evil? I hate you.”
“He said he had nothing else to give. He knew you…loved him and that was enough.”
Haylie fell to her knees and sobbed, covering her face.
“It shall pass. Time heals all wounds,” Kellan said, thinking he was helping her.
“Go away, whatever you are. I don’t want to see you ever again.”
Many years ago, when I was a young writer, I never really worried about how to word things or where to begin writing. I just went at it with my intuition, jotting emotions down, jotting how I heard conversations happened in my head, etc. I had an urge to get those thoughts out on paper. Personally, I had a thing for the written English language (if the English language was a handsome man, I’d be all over him) so I naturally paid attention in all my English classes. I also read a lot, and still do – a lot more than I did then.
I’ve noticed nowadays that a lot of new writers, who don’t have any experience in writing, worry that they won’t be able to write because they don’t know how to do it right or where to begin. It doesn’t take an expert to explain what it takes to be a beginner writer, just someone who’s done it a ton.
Here are my tips on how to start. Now, you won’t become a famous writer/author right away, or maybe ever because of these tips. These are simply stepping stones to get you comfortable enough to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and make sense out of it.
Tip 1: Read. Read whatever you want, but read. Preferably, read in your genre because it will help you think the way you need to think to write your stories. When you read, watch for syntax, verbiage, sentence structure, etc. Pay attention to how the author starts a chapter or a paragraph. I’d recommend throwing in a few classics just for variations.
Tip 2: In grade school, we were all taught the elements of a story. It still applies.
The 5 Basic Elements of a story:
Tip 3: Have a conflict in your story. Being new, you should only focus on one conflict. Don’t worry about the different types of conflicts out there, it could confuse you more. Just think of one thing that you feel can be resolved in your story.
Tip 4. Write. Tell your story without it being perfect. Let it spill out with all its imperfections. Don’t worry about grammar. DO worry about formatting. It will help you read you own work easier in the long run. This is the very basic way to format:
Tip 5: Practice on short pieces. Even if you have a long story playing in your mind, write out just the parts that are strongest. Don’t try to get the story down in order. Use place holders or chapters (with short outlines) for those pieces you have yet to flesh out completely.
That’s it! Now, get to writing.