Inspiration

There's a poster on the wall of my English class that I really like. It stats "A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people" - Thomas Mann.  I don't really know who Thomas Mann is, but I like the way he thinks. I feel it is much more difficult for me to write than my peers. I mean,  this post has already taken me a few hours, just to find the correct words. When writing in class, I always find myself to be one of the last people to finish. Sometimes it's lovely to know that I'm thinking so hard,  but I don't like that it's so time consuming.
As I was looking through pictures online, I came across this one that instantly got the creative juices flowing.

Yes, it is from an anime of sorts, though which I do not know. And then, here is the the little snip-it that was produced from it:

"As she walked down the hall,  Casey watched the expressionless faces of her father's guards. There were twelve of them, six of each side. They were young, all about early twenties. Some of them were cute too, in her opinion."

I know things are slightly different from the picture (the ages and how many,) but that's only because I'm a teenage girl, and what am I to do?
I guess what I'm trying to say today is that anything can be inspiring to you, you just have to accept it and start writing.

Write on, baby!

-Juca

Number ?

     So it's been a little while, what with school and other stuff, but I'm still here! During the few weeks I didn't post, I started about 3 more stories. It's gotten to a point where I don't really care which story I'm working on, so I just use a random number generator to choose a story for me. I figured I also use it to choose a story that I want to post here. And the number is...*drumroll*...number 16! I haven't worked on this one since last September. It's not that long so far.

     One day, when I was four, I was sitting on my father's lap and he was bouncing me on his knee. He was smiling, I was laughing, until I saw something glimmer ing his mouth. I stopped laughing and put my hands down. My father stopped bouncing his leg and asked me, "What's wrong, sweety?" 
     I slowly reached my hand up to his mouth and touched the elongated sharp teeth on either side of my father's top jaw. I though that the teeth would cut my finger, they looked so sharp, but they didn't. I reached down to my own mouth and felt two slightly smaller, but equally sharp fangs of my own.
     I looked up at my father, who had an I-guess-it's-that-time look on his face.


    Yeah, it's about vampires. I can't help it, I love them, even if Twilight did ruin them. -.- So tell me what you think of it, and things that I should include in the story.

Write on, people

-Juca

Numbah 9!

Lately I've been working on #9, pretty much my favorite story that I've started. It's about this girl that gets shot by a creep. This "family" of super humans saves her, and she turns into one of them because...well, it's a little complicated to explain here. But one of the characters, the "mom," Beth, explains it well to the main character, Catie:


      "Well, here's a history lesson for you. In the early 1870s, a man named, Alfred Willmont, a slightly disturbed man, who wanted badly to create the next 'Super Human.' He kidnapped people to use as test subjects for he experiments. He wanted to create a person who could 'leap over tall buildings and hold freight trains over their head,' along with being able to heal people with a single touch, and many other super powers. One day, in 1883, about ten years after he started his experiments, he finally found a serum that, when injected into a person's blood stream, it would turn them in to an invincible being with healing powers and such. 
      “When Willmont ultimately came up with this mixture, he got extremely excited. Well, with him being in his 70s, and in all of his excitement, when he went to find an newspaper interviewer, he forgot about how to keep the test subject at bay. So, with the subject having a 'super brain,' they thought of what might happen to him, and all of the things he could do without Willmont, he escaped from Willmont's basement. When Willmont got back with the interviewer and found that his experiment escaped, he got so angry that he shot the interviewer so that he wouldn't tell everyone that he was a failure, then he hung himself."
    "Oh my goodness, that's terrible."
    "Yes, it is a tragedy." Beth sat down next to me and leaned her head against the wall.
    "What happen to the test subject?"
    "Well, the test subject, his name was Benjamin, knowing what he had to do, he got a passport, and moved across the world, to Canada. Being only sixteen, he decided that he needed to get an education. So he went to high school for three years, and because of his amazing grades, he went on to MIT, and got a career as a doctor."
    "And this was all in his plan to do what, exactly?"
    "He knew that he had to figure out a way to breed so that the super human was genetic, and not synthetic. That's why he became a doctor, so it would be easier to research. He found that it had to be a person with AB- blood, which is the rarest type. Because he was a doctor, he had access to peoples records, so he could look to see what everyone’s blood type was."
    "I bet he figured that it had to do with blood, that's why he became a doctor."
    "That's right. So he found a person that had AB-, and, well, you know what happens next."
    "Yeah."
    "They had multiple children, and they made sure that they, and their children's children breed together, keeping the genes."
    "So now there's a lot of them, all over the world, right?"
    "Correct."
    "And so I'm one of them?"
    "Right."


I also need to figure out what to call these "superhuman" people. I can't just keep calling them "superhuman people." If you have any ideas, please feel free to comment and let me know. Thanks!

Write on bros,

-Juca

Help, Please

Okay, so I need help on this one. This is the beginning of a story that I started writing, and I don't know where it's going.

“Interface, you there?”
“Yes Maggie, what can I do for you?”
Maggie was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall of her pod room, on her father’s airship, the Corruption. She had been sent to her room without any supper after she and her father had argued over when Maggie was able to leave the ship. She wanted to be able to wander the streets when they landed in Paris the next day. Her father said that she would get carried away and would probably end up arrested. That happened a lot to Maggie. She was always getting into trouble, trying to observe everything in museums, art galleries, and historical buildings.

One time, Maggie had been touring the Taj Mahal with her father. She wanted to see what was happening in a room that was being restored. She left the group and waited until the tours closed. Unfortunately, a guard found her before she'd had a chance to see what was going on. Long story short, there had been a lot of commotion about her being a spy, and her father had been quite upset with her. Now, she wasn't allowed of the airship unless accompanied by a heavy guard.

She was just a very curious girl.

In the next line, the Maggie was going to ask the interface a question, but I don't know what the question is. The voices of the characters inside my head have gone silent, and I can't persuade them to open up. That's the worst part of writing, when it's quiet in Idea World.

If anybody is reading this: Hi, hello, how are you today? If you have any advice for me, don't be shy. Leave a comment if you have any ideas, because I've been draw blank card after blank card, and I don't know what to do.

Write on, peeps

-Juca

Intro To Me

Hello. My name is Juca Nacht, and this is my blog. I'm almost 18, and I love to write. Currently, I have started about 22 different stories, and I am definitely not done. There has only been one story that I have completely finished writing, and that is a short story I wrote when I was in 8th grade. I really like that one, but it is absolutely not in it's best shape, considering I wrote it when I was 13, although I am fairly proud of it.
I know that very few people will every see my blog, only because none of my friends know that I have it. I just wanted to start it merely as someplace where my writing is out there in the world for other people to read.
Mainly what I am going to post are my stories. I might decide to post a whole one in parts, but it will most likely be sections that I've just written that I might need advice on. Also, I'll be posting advice on my own, or something I've learned while writing. That's all.

Write on, people, write on

-Juca