To Write: It isn't simply an infinitive; it's the way authors allow their hearts to bleed onto paper, freeing their emotions as their soul pours into their work. It isn't purely a phrase. The two words, the seven letters, are the description of everything within an author. A writer, compared to an author, are worlds apart. Whereas a writer is deeply passionate over their works of art, an author is one who is determined not only to succeed but is willing to bestow their own heart into their fiction. Fully willing to fall in love repeatedly with the characters and stories our eyes see, an author's job to compose new worlds for fellow imaginations to visit is never complete.
To write is to release one's senses as the door to vivid imagination is opened wide. Showing with words, drawing the pictures for one's mind's eye to view, pulling you ever-so-slightly into our worlds of fiction: this is every author's aspiration.
I am not only a writer. I am an author.
1st-2nd Years • 4 Reviews
Falling into his arms, stumbling into his love, was her desire, her wish. Merope Gaunt had watched Tom Riddle for what seemed an eternity, each glance at him a skip in her heartbeat.
After a meeting one rainy day, she realizes that what she desires might be just out of reach...
3rd-5th Years • 2 Reviews
The last thing we do: will it be something that is filled with confessions, or regrets of never making them? Will it harbor feelings, whether loving or hostile? As Luna Lovegood reflects on the death of her first love, she knows that the last thing she'll do is never forget.
1st-2nd Years • 6 Reviews
The one thing that he knew what hurt him the most is the one thing he did. Watching her from afar was the only way he knew to feel close to her.
A Severus/Lily fic.
1st-2nd Years • 5 Reviews
It was the final night before the last battle, and Ginny was spending a few precious moments with Harry. She knew that she couldn't make him open his heart to her, but she could only dream.
Songfic to The Andrews Sisters' song, I Can Dream, Can't I?
He was about to leave; that we both knew. I also knew that I might never see him again, and the thought was nearly killing me. I wanted nothing more than to jump into his arms and smother him with affection, but another part of me wanted to yell at him until he changed his mind. I understood the situation, as my heart was breaking... I never wanted the moment to end.