Let it Flow--On Writing

So, here's my problem:

  When writing my fantasy novel, I usually struggle to find the words when writing. I mean, I really do struggle. It takes me about an hour to write 300 words, most the time my eyes are just scrutinising over word-choices and the flowing of sentences, et cetera.
  I recently wrote a story which explained my entire back story to me, in order for me to drop hints along the way and to ensure I know exactly what is going on for certain characters, and I blasted out a couple of hundred words in a few minutes. Not because I knew what I was doing or where I was going, on the contrary, I needed to plan a lot of what was happening and how it came to affect my current work.
  It was because, no matter what I was doing, I did not care for the words. I knew nobody would ever see this, and that only I, and nobody else would see its content. It did not need to be perfect, like I would like my project to be.

So what I'm trying to get at--I'm trying to convince of this, too-- is that stressing over your work is not going to get you anywhere. It's not going to get me anywhere. That is what a first draft is for, it is OKAY to not be okay.

Thanks, and happy writing!

-Charlie

The importance of a back-up: experienced edition.

I am going mad.
My mind is twisting itself into knots and tangles just because it is so confused as to why I would do such a stupid thing.
I am going mad.

Long strong short: I went to Malta to visit my parents during my summer off from school. With me there I packed an assortment of clothes, mostly things I did not end up wearing as I lived off my brother's attire. In my luggage, I also took with me several books to read, and my notebook, in which I  doodled the many ways my characters would handle situations, different plots, new character names, random journalings and wonderings.
However, I left it in one of the beach bags and forgot to re-pack it.
Anger. Blood clotting. Frustration running through my veins.
My entire life, I left behind.
THIS IS THE IMPORTANCE OF HAVING A BACK-UP, PEOPLE.
Whether it be an extra copy of a file, or even a friend you agree to be with just in case you are alone at the age of forty (That one friends episode.)
Back-up is everything.
Now excuse me, as I fretfully urge my mother to skype-call me and read out everything I had written down.

Until next time,
-Charlie

50 Shades of Charlie--'s hair.

This year, I came out to the world. Out of the closet.

  Besides finding myself a very lovely boyfriend who I have been with for nearly six months now, I have also found a new love. Hair dye.

  Oh, hair dye. How many times I have used it this year.

  4 Bleaches

  8 Dyes

  It is needless to say I am overdoing it with my hair, but I am in love. This little act pleases me. I can change myself. 

  "When there's something you want to change about yourself but can't, change the things you can."

  That is a line from my GBT themed novel, my GBP, and is also one I live by.

My hair, through the year:

The Original masterpiece:

Professionally, bleached and dyed:

 

Dyed a dark Brown by yours truly:


Dyed Red (twice as I'm stubborn) on top of Brown, myself:

Oh my, the awful haircut in which I showed my skills with scissors, self inflicted:


Bleached for Reddening, myself:


Dyed Red, myself:


And then cut professionally:


Bleached myself:


And then bleached again, myself:


And then dyed a warm blonde myself, which is its current state:

And just for fun, in which I fashioned my cousins hair extensions:


  Thank you!
  -Charlie

In which I say hello and admit to failure.

  Although at this very moment I am most likely typing to nobody but myself, I think it is still best to open with a proper greeting:
         Hello!
  This is another, I want to say hopeful, but probably hopeless attempt at starting and maintaining a blog. This blog will be about books--reading and writing them, my life, and all it entails.
Here I will post my struggle at writing a book, my struggle with being a teenager, my struggle with life in general.

  Until next time,
  -Charlie