Why I write what I write

 I like all sorts of books. YA contemporary,YA fantasy,Classics,Non-Fiction (Depends on the topic) and out of all of those genres. I chose to write YA contemporary. Why you ask? Cause I just did. End of post! Just kidding.

 

Some people have a theme when they write.  My theme is this.

I show this character. S/he is not prefect but s/he has a lot of potential deep down.I want to bring my character to that potential. Show her/him to my readers at point A and then bring her/him to point B. Major Character deployment. 

I am not a perfect writer. I have big ideas but I may not have the best writing skill. I still have stuff to work on.  Such as,I am good at writing my MC  at point A and when s/he is at point B but I have trouble about bringing them there. And that's the most important part (:

So this post is kinda short but I'll give you guys a sneak peak into my WIP

Rebekah

Writer Lingo

MC= Main Charcter

WIP=Work in Progress

The un-average life of Alison Cordro

Prologue

The sky seemed to be feeling the same as she was. This little girl was soaking wet as she was trying navigate to her house. No make that her family mansion. Why did her parents have to be so rich? Maybe then the other kids would be her friends. Not just pretend to. 
She got to the intersection and pressed the button to cross the street.Her house was just across the street.Home. Well not really home. The other children said that there moms and dads were always home. But hers… She quickly wiped her tears before anyone could see. 
She waited for quick a while.But the walking thing did not say walk. There was barley any traffic. The girl glanced over and saw the road going the other was blinking walk. Stupid me. She thought 
She sighed and pressed the right button. Finally the little white man came and she quickly walked across the road. 
She didn’t want anyone to ask why this nine-year old girl was not on the bus from school.Why she wasn’t with her parnts.Why she was alone. 
She found her street Crest Crs. And she glanced around. Nobody was here. The were busy doing what rich people do. What ever that was. 
She found the numbers she had been looking for. 1200. She would’ve skipped down the driveway if she still was not so gloomy 
She got to the door and pulled out her necklace from under her shirt. On it’s black string it held the house key. Oh how proud she was when mama gave her the key a year ago. She was such a big girl. A small smile came onto her face. She twisted the key in the slot and the door opened. The smell of a empty house and rich perfumes filled the air “Hello?” 
Her feeble cry echoed though the house. But no one was there. 
She was alone. 
 
The tears started to come back. “Is anyone here?” 
When nothing answered,She started to walk to the stairs up to her room.One step after another. 
A creak stopped her. She turned around to see a elderly lady standing in the front room. She looked kind. But what was this strange women doing in this house? 
“Hello dear.”The old omens voce sounded kind as well “You must be Alison.”She smiled. One of the kindest smiles the little girl has ever seen. The little girl looked at the women with fascination and started going down the stairs. 
When she was at the bottom She looked at the women “Who are you?” She asked in a way only little girls could. 
The lady looked at her sweetly “My name is Meg.”