From the category archives:

Twenty-Something Writers

Unspoken – Twenty-Something Writers

by Megan on March 21, 2009

First, the winner of my St. Patrick’s Day Giveaway was LilySpeak! She’ll be receiving her necklace soon. I may be having another giveaway around April 17th, so be ready for it!

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There is a new writing prompt up at Twenty-Something Writers.

We all have something we want to say to someone. Maybe it’s someone in your life now. Or, maybe it is something you wish you said to someone who is no longer in your life. It could even be Mr./Ms. Random Person that you saw in the local coffee shop today. What do you want to say that you were never able to?You can leave the person(s) identity anonymous, if you’d like. Feel free to feature more than one person. Do it in letter form or any form you prefer. Show us that creativity!

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To Any Girl That Liked Husband in the Past,

I won.

Sincerely,
The Wife

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Dear Granny & Pawpaw,

You’re no longer with us, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t want to talk to you. I miss you both. Know that you two are and always have been my inspiration. You taught me to love and laugh, even through the hard times. Thanks for that.

Love Always,
Your Megan

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Dear iPhone/Apple:

I’m completely disappointed that you’re on the AT&T network. I live in a small town where AT&T coverage isn’t available. Plus, AT&T sucks. Verizon is where it’s at. 

From,
Someone who would buy an iPhone if it were on Verizon’s network

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Creepy Guy(s) in My Office:

Stop crunching your ice. Stop burping–at least say ‘excuse me’. Stop staring at Tiffany & I. Stop breathing so heavily while you stare. Stop complaining when you have to actually do something. Stop being creepy.

-One of the girls you stare at

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Dear Ten-Year-Old Self:

by Megan on March 14, 2009

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There is a writing prompt up at Twenty-Something Writers that I decided to do. Not only could I win a $25 gift card to Barnes & Noble bookstore, but I get to write a letter to my younger self. I always find these fun & entertaining. For the prompt, I’ve decided to go back ten years and write a letter to my ten-year-old self.

Dear Self:

You are now ten-years-old; the double digits, I know you’re proud. I have a lot to tell you, so let me just jump right in.

For starters, you may hate those freckles now, but you’ll grow into them. Just know that if you put lemon juice on your face and stand in the sun, they will not disappear. I promise. Nothing is going to get rid of them, but they will fade with age. By that point, though, you’ll love them and so will everyone else. You won’t even notice them when you look in the mirror; they will be a part of you. And so will your cute little nose that you think is so huge.

You’re not going to get much taller; get used to this now. You’ll stop growing in the seventh grade at 5’1″, but people will love you for your height. Also, you are NOT fat. Stop listening to your cousins when they say you are.

A lot of things are going to happen in your life. For starters, you’re going to move out-of-state. At first, you may hate it, but I promise, it will become your home. You will want to live there and nowhere else. You will make some of the best friends, and your granny will be right: you will meet your husband there–though it won’t be the person you think it is, at first.

A few years after moving out-of-state, something major will happen in your life. It will probably be one of the hardest things you have to go through, but I promise, you WILL get through it. You won’t be completely alone; you will find your true self; you will grow. And one day? You’ll look back at it with memories of fondness, rather than the sadness you will be overcome with throughout it all.

I know your little sister is annoying now, but she’ll be your best friend someday. And your little brother will become just as annoying, but by the time you move out, he will be a best friend as well. You will love them as if they were your own children, though I know that’s hard to believe now.

You will fall in “love.” You will have a broken heart a time or two. Don’t let it bring you down. I promise, you’ll be happy in the end. You know that curly-haired boy you’re always imagining that couldn’t possibly exist? Well, he does exist, and he will be yours. Someday. Be patient. I know, I know. Patient, what?! I mean it, though.

I know you probably want me to tell you what to do to change everything so you won’t have to go through all of the sadness, BUT I won’t. You will like who you are when you are me, and changing anything will change everything. You will have no regrets, though. You’ll be happy. Everything will end up okay. Remember that.

Love,
Your Twenty-Year-Old Self

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Twenty-Something Writers

by Megan on March 2, 2009

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Today is a big day in the writing community–the twenty-something writers’ blog has been launched! The first writing prompt given to the contributers is tell us about your writing history, so I’m going to give it a go.

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Honestly, I didn’t like English/language arts until I was in high school. Before that, I enjoyed writing, but I didn’t care much about grammar and how to write. Once I entered high school, I became aware of grammar and how much I adored it. My freshman English teacher taught us that “a lot” is, in fact, two words rather than the one word we had been using. I felt, before that, that I hadn’t been learning about the English language–as if my teachers didn’t care about giving the correct answer after circling a word that was incorrect with their infamous red pen. They were just there to tell me what was wrong, not what was correct.

I, of course, began to write poetry–mostly poetry that rhymed; then I actually learned more about poetry, that it didn’t have to rhyme, that there was a correct way to write it. My sophomore year of high school, I moved to Florida to be with my granny while she had lung cancer. I wrote most of my poetry the summer before that–all about how angry I was at god or whatever for making her sick, for taking her away from me that August, for not being on my side. Writing became my best friend, something I could turn to when I couldn’t stop the tears from sliding down my face. From that point on, I used writing as a venting mechanism–and I still do, which is probably why I think I write my best when I’m upset or angry.

When I moved back to Tennessee, after seven months of being away, most of my writing halted. I didn’t really know how to write happily, and I felt that anything I wrote while I was happy wasn’t good enough. I still wrote for school, however; and somehow, even if I waited until the night before it was due to write a five-page paper, I would make an A, and it just came so easily to me. All through high school, I took honors English just for the simple fact that it involved more writing. Even when I hated what I was writing about, I still enjoyed the entire process. When I entered my first semester of college, I made a 100% on every paper that I turned in…

I wanted to be a journalist, of course. Most people that have a love for the English language want to have a career of sorts that leans toward it. Journalism and/or English were my two career choices. However, I realized money is a huge factor in deciding a career no matter how much we don’t want to believe it. Therefore, I will not be going into either field–though I suppose I still have time to change my mind–but I will always enjoy writing. Still, I think I am not good enough. Sometimes I try too hard. Sometimes I don’t try hard enough. My love for writing, though, is infinite.

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P.S. Today is my brother’s thirteenth birthday. Aww, he’s a teenager!

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