So every famous author says the key to becoming a great writer is to write everyday. And what better way than writing prompts?
"You have an extra $1,000,000 to give away; you cannot spend it on yourself. What would you do with the money?"
Charity. Duh.
Uh, well that didn't go so well. Let me try again.
'Tell me about your siblings."
A- 13. Doesn't that say it all? That awkward age where you feel entitled to teenagerhood even though you're barely out of elementary school. Finding the delicate balance between standing out and fitting in, and the fear of becoming just another carbon copy. She's funny, she's moody, she's spunky, she's sassy. She makes me angry, often. She makes me want to pull out my hair, too frequently. She makes me laugh until I can't breath, a lot. We may not get along too well, all the time, and I may even dislike her at moments, but I can't help but love her always.
N- He's really, really, sweet. He acts like he knows it all, but only to cover up how much he doesn't know. He acts really tough and macho, but its only to hide how vulnerable he really is, how easily hurt he is. He's my baby brother, and you know what they say about baby brothers: Can't live with them, Can't live without them.
I1: Like the color yellow. Everything about her is bright; her intelligence, her personality, her smile... You can't help but be drawn to her. Everytime I see her chatting up the lady at the cash register I wonder where she got her conversational skills, and all I have to do is look in the mirror to find the answer. I see myself in her. Mini-Me to the core. A huge attitute, but an even bigger heart. A desire to be everyone's friend. A creative streak that makes everything and anything seem possible. A perfectionist, but not quite. Emotianal. Outrageous. A princess in the middle of Suburbia.
I2: Last but certainly not least. Cliche, I know, but so true. He is everything I have never had the nerve to do in a 3 ft 11' bundle of fire. He's restless. He's reckless. He talks back, he hits, he cries, he punches, he yells, he laughs, he throws tantrums, he spills milk. He speaks his mind, regardless of who its to. And I can't help but admire his defiance, his disregard for the rules. He never learns from his mistakes, well, except for that one time he called 911 on my grandmother, but that's another story. He's a distaster waiting to happen, something about to break, an adventure about to be taken. He's refreshing, and exasperating, and absolutely amazing.
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