Aspiring Writers Group...a creative writing group discussion

Now is a great time do increase stamina! The Write-A-Thon will make sure you write as many short stories as you can!

Starting April 1st write as many short stories about your life as you can and share them in this discussion!

Thanks!

Do they have to be about my life or can they be fiction?

With me as the main character?

They have to be stories about your life and you or someone you love as the main character.

Okay, cool. But may I ask... Why?

If you don't want to have you or someone you love as your main character, pic someone else.

Just write!

Okay then...

I don’t have an interesting life.

You can write about something else.

It was a cold, bleak afternoon. The fog was so thick, you couldn't see the beautiful, green mountains that sat outside my window. I was fearing this day. I knew it would come, I did. Now I would have to face the challenge of going to the funeral. I didn't want to go. Not because I didn't miss her. I did. I just didn't want to see her, one last time, laying in a coffin with people pretending she was just asleep. She was gone. I didn't like that.
I wanted to remember our last memories that weren't of her laying in a coffin at her own funeral. I want to remember the last time when we went to Chuck E. Cheese, and I got lost. She looked for me for an hour, and found me by the racing games, crying.
"Rye? It's time to go, come on," my mom says, grabbing me by the arms, as if I was going to escape.
I lightly shrug her arms off me. I smooth down my loose black dress, and check my hair before I get in the car.
There's no music, just silence. For once, I don't want it. My little brothers are sitting on the edge of their seats, trying to be good. My mom and dad are in a hushed conversation.
I look out the window, sighing at the view of fog.
We get to the church in 20 minutes. It doesn't really look like a church though, more like a run down place, covered in ivy.
We enter to the sound of music playing, and people taking their seats.
People go up and talk about how they knew her, and how much they missed her.
"Family and friends would like to come up?" a young man says, not older than 23.
I take a deep breath and walk up to a crowd of people look at me. I sigh.
"My grandma wasn't like most. She didn't give you what you wanted. She was nice in many other ways...."
And as I talked about her, I was glad I went after all.

Written by: ✨R y e✨