“GAH! I just want to write something,” i look at my best friend’s face pleadingly, “will you help me? pleeeaaase??” he looks back, completely unamused at my grumbling and annoying attitude. i don’t blame him.
“how can i help you write something. you don’t have a purpose.” i groan, lean back in my chair, and swivel away like a child. “but i waaaaant to wriiiiiiite something, i have the energy and the motivation!” still leaning, i slap my hands over my face. this is so frustrating, im all raring to get some words on paper, but my head is giving me the finger. i have absolutely nothing, in the the brain bank.
“listen Sam, there is always something to write about. but you can’t expect perfect work all the time,” he was really being serious, “whenever this happens, and you finally come up with something, you complain nonstop because it’s crap writing. and im not disagreeing about that writing part.” he turned from his desk to grab some folders from a filing cabinet to his left. i just looked at him. “wow, im offended.” he snapped back, “you should be, because im about sick of your whole inflated ego and impracticality about writing. what you write, will always suck. always. there is no out. you will edit, and edit, and edit, and edit, but no matter what, because of the nature of it, it will be awful. but that is how you learn, that is how you progress.”
I wasn’t about to argue with him, because i knew he was right. he usually was. i just hated that i couldn’t write well. and i hated that i didn’t have the strive, or the drive to write every single day to improve. “yeah, you’re right im sorry.” i looked away dejected, ready to put away my pencils.
“but,” he started, “maybe i can help you.”
“What? how?” i asked. how was he going to help me?
He gave me a funny look, and smirked. “Write a story, about a banana.”
By Alice Crown, 16, Fort Hamilton High, USA