Girl, I can't get you out of my mind (or a.k.a. the Process of Brainstorming)
Title: Girl, I can't get you out of my mind (or a.k.a. the Process of Brainstorming)
Character(s) or Pairing(s): OC
Rating: K
Warnings: N/A
A/N: I wrote this for school. :D It's beta-ed by strawberryburst & Tiffy~ <3 Thanks guys for all your hard work and comments! I hope you enjoy this! XD I had lots of fun writing this one and it's kind of old in a way that it was written somewhere near the end of 2010. I'm also going to start placing all my other entries under cuts because I've been putting that off for so long now and it wouldn't kill me to at least fix this place up. Oh and if anyone can recommend to me a good layout comm, I need a new one. :< I got the title (at least the first half) from one of songs of the new SJ-M album. This thing is labeled as 'for that thing in school' in my folder. lol
The first (and last) time you see her, you’re sitting on a bench while tapping your pen onto the notebook balanced on your lap. She’s just sitting, drinking what looks like coffee from the café around the corner as she reads a book. You don’t give the girl another thought. Not when you have more pressing matters at hand, like your story for instance.
It’s nearly been three weeks of pure procrastination and brainstorming, and yet, you have no plot to show. Nothing worth noting other than a few ideas here and there. You’re beginning to wonder why you even decided to enter. It’s not like you can write, you tell yourself angrily. While you’re distracted, you don’t notice the girl stand up and leave.
And when you do notice that she’s gone, all you see in her place is a small notebook. You take it and wonder how you’re supposed to give it back to her.
A few days have passed and there’s no sign of that girl anywhere. The notebook is inside your bag, tucked safely in between your books. You sit down on the bench and take your pen from your pocket then pull out your notebook and open it. As you once again think of a plot for your story, somewhere in your mind, you’re still thinking about that girl and her notebook that is currently in your possession.
After a while, it gets pretty clear to you that the chances of seeing the girl again are nil.
One day, you decided to flip through the notebook’s pages. A part of you begins to scold yourself for prying into other people’s belongings but you quickly shut it up because now the notebook’s now yours. There’s a slim chance you’re ever going to see her again anyway.
The pages are filled with drawings and words written in a neat scrawl. As you read, your mind begins to form some sort of picture of what the girl is like based on the contents of her notebook and the memory you have of her. You imagine she’s a pretty average kind of girl. But like everyone else, she probably has some thing about her that sets her apart from others.
You’re trying to figure out what that ‘thing’ is in the back of your mind as you chew the tip of your pen while still trying to form a plot.
Time passes.
You wake one morning, realize what that thing is, and have something that is akin to a plot. As you rush to your desk and grab a sheet of paper and pen, you thank whoever is listening Up There for the realization and inspiration.
Halfway through the first part, you realize that your main character is the girl. Or at least, based on whatever your assumptions and speculations are of her.
Finally, you’re done. You’re finished. The story is complete; plot, characters and all. When you finish reading your work for the umpteenth time, your main character is a dreamer. But not the kind with their head always up in the clouds but the kind that has a goal and whose feet are firmly planted on the ground-- even if it looks like they’ve got their heads in the clouds. And they’re kind of organized. Like really, really neat and organized.
After you have your friend check it for grammar problems or inconsistencies, you rewrite it on your laptop then print it onto a sheet of clean, white bond paper. As you do all this, there’s a sort of hollow feeling in your stomach that’s mixed with excitement.
When you finally submit your entry, you can’t help but feel a certain sense of calm and pride. As you walk back to your room, you think about your work. You don’t have any regrets. Well, maybe you wish you could fix the end and bits of the middle but, all in all, you’re satisfied with it.
You lay down in bed and go to sleep.
Days later they post the stories in the conference room for everyone to see. As you approach yours, you see someone standing right in front of it. The person turns around, and to your surprise, it’s the girl. She’s smiling. You walk right up to her side and speak.
“How is it?” She turns to face you and there’s this look of surprise on her face that quickly melts away, soon to be replaced by that smile you saw earlier. “It’s nice, actually. I can really relate to the main character. It’s like I can step into her shoes, except y’know, I don’t think I can do the things she’s done.” She sighs.
“I just wish… but, oh well.” She shrugs and then her phone rings. She picks it up and puts it down after a few a seconds. She smiles again. “I have to go.”
You nod.
“It was nice meeting you!” and with that she takes her bag and leaves. When she’s gone, you can’t help but wish you got to talk longer and tell her that you have her notebook. You stare at the doorway before leaving as well. Maybe the next time you see her, you’ll actually get to tell her that she was the main character in your story.
Character(s) or Pairing(s): OC
Rating: K
Warnings: N/A
A/N: I wrote this for school. :D It's beta-ed by strawberryburst & Tiffy~ <3 Thanks guys for all your hard work and comments! I hope you enjoy this! XD I had lots of fun writing this one and it's kind of old in a way that it was written somewhere near the end of 2010. I'm also going to start placing all my other entries under cuts because I've been putting that off for so long now and it wouldn't kill me to at least fix this place up. Oh and if anyone can recommend to me a good layout comm, I need a new one. :< I got the title (at least the first half) from one of songs of the new SJ-M album. This thing is labeled as 'for that thing in school' in my folder. lol
The first (and last) time you see her, you’re sitting on a bench while tapping your pen onto the notebook balanced on your lap. She’s just sitting, drinking what looks like coffee from the café around the corner as she reads a book. You don’t give the girl another thought. Not when you have more pressing matters at hand, like your story for instance.
It’s nearly been three weeks of pure procrastination and brainstorming, and yet, you have no plot to show. Nothing worth noting other than a few ideas here and there. You’re beginning to wonder why you even decided to enter. It’s not like you can write, you tell yourself angrily. While you’re distracted, you don’t notice the girl stand up and leave.
And when you do notice that she’s gone, all you see in her place is a small notebook. You take it and wonder how you’re supposed to give it back to her.
A few days have passed and there’s no sign of that girl anywhere. The notebook is inside your bag, tucked safely in between your books. You sit down on the bench and take your pen from your pocket then pull out your notebook and open it. As you once again think of a plot for your story, somewhere in your mind, you’re still thinking about that girl and her notebook that is currently in your possession.
After a while, it gets pretty clear to you that the chances of seeing the girl again are nil.
One day, you decided to flip through the notebook’s pages. A part of you begins to scold yourself for prying into other people’s belongings but you quickly shut it up because now the notebook’s now yours. There’s a slim chance you’re ever going to see her again anyway.
The pages are filled with drawings and words written in a neat scrawl. As you read, your mind begins to form some sort of picture of what the girl is like based on the contents of her notebook and the memory you have of her. You imagine she’s a pretty average kind of girl. But like everyone else, she probably has some thing about her that sets her apart from others.
You’re trying to figure out what that ‘thing’ is in the back of your mind as you chew the tip of your pen while still trying to form a plot.
Time passes.
You wake one morning, realize what that thing is, and have something that is akin to a plot. As you rush to your desk and grab a sheet of paper and pen, you thank whoever is listening Up There for the realization and inspiration.
Halfway through the first part, you realize that your main character is the girl. Or at least, based on whatever your assumptions and speculations are of her.
Finally, you’re done. You’re finished. The story is complete; plot, characters and all. When you finish reading your work for the umpteenth time, your main character is a dreamer. But not the kind with their head always up in the clouds but the kind that has a goal and whose feet are firmly planted on the ground-- even if it looks like they’ve got their heads in the clouds. And they’re kind of organized. Like really, really neat and organized.
After you have your friend check it for grammar problems or inconsistencies, you rewrite it on your laptop then print it onto a sheet of clean, white bond paper. As you do all this, there’s a sort of hollow feeling in your stomach that’s mixed with excitement.
When you finally submit your entry, you can’t help but feel a certain sense of calm and pride. As you walk back to your room, you think about your work. You don’t have any regrets. Well, maybe you wish you could fix the end and bits of the middle but, all in all, you’re satisfied with it.
You lay down in bed and go to sleep.
Days later they post the stories in the conference room for everyone to see. As you approach yours, you see someone standing right in front of it. The person turns around, and to your surprise, it’s the girl. She’s smiling. You walk right up to her side and speak.
“How is it?” She turns to face you and there’s this look of surprise on her face that quickly melts away, soon to be replaced by that smile you saw earlier. “It’s nice, actually. I can really relate to the main character. It’s like I can step into her shoes, except y’know, I don’t think I can do the things she’s done.” She sighs.
“I just wish… but, oh well.” She shrugs and then her phone rings. She picks it up and puts it down after a few a seconds. She smiles again. “I have to go.”
You nod.
“It was nice meeting you!” and with that she takes her bag and leaves. When she’s gone, you can’t help but wish you got to talk longer and tell her that you have her notebook. You stare at the doorway before leaving as well. Maybe the next time you see her, you’ll actually get to tell her that she was the main character in your story.