Tag Archive | "thoreau"

I Need Someone To Critique My Writing?


Keep in mind this was just written, and roughly, pretty much on a whim. So if it’s terrible, you have every right to say so.
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I want to write something of remembrance, of importance, of strength. I want to be the Fitzgerald of my time. Never has alcoholism done a man so well. But I’m a woman, a lady–if you will, and I want to still appear so after my feelings are poured on a page. I don’t want stories in the paper of my drunken mischievousness. In this day and age, it’s unacceptable. I will be tumultuous enough to have material to draw on, but put together enough that the public may never know. I will be legendary. It will make me one of The Greats.
I want to write something profound, touching, appealing to all. I want to be the Thoreau of my time. In a century of constant movement, but stagnant minds–how do you capture transcendentalism? I will deal with this crisis. I would need the right audience. No legend becomes a legend if their work falls on deaf ears. I guess I will just need to wait for my passing. Then all these rambles will become immortalized and I’ll be one of The Greats.
I want to write something thought provoking, sensitive, life changing. I want to be the Gandhi of my time. I want to be emblematic of wisdom. My work will bring peace to the open heart for generations to come. My words could end wars. They can make man look at themselves and their surroundings and want to change. I will carry so much power in my character that my pen will flow with all that I have to bestow on humankind. It will be revolutionary. But alas, wisdom can’t be manipulated, it will need to come to me, not I to it. I will wait for the day. When that day comes, when destiny aligns, I will be inducted as one of The Greats.
I want to write something eerie, cynical, crestfallen. I want to be the Poe of my time. People will wonder. They’ll judge. They’ll whisper. They won’t doubt my work, however. No, my work will speak for itself in the genius that is darkness. It will linger and haunt minds. I will be the Hitchcock of the literary world. What is the line between genius and insanity and has she crossed it? The truth is, maybe I have. I have explored areas of my mind that most are unwilling to go. That is why I’ll be one of The Greats.
I want to write something romantic, compelling, passionate. I want to be the Austen of my time. Vulnerabilities are timeless; emotions, as well. They equalize men. Race, religion and status have little relation to how you will feel heartbreak. Or better yet, how you will feel love. I want to capture that. The tenderness that comes with connecting with another individual. The exploitation of your trust and soaked eyes as it falls apart. It will appeal to the masses and be made into movies long after I’m gone. I’ll become one of The Greats.
I want to write something fun, nonsensical, brilliant. I want to be the Dr. Seuss of my time. I’ll make no sense, yet all the sense in the world. Children will love me, adults will never outgrow me. I will have the most famous quotes, yet the most ridiculous verbiage. My work will surpass the normal expectations of real words and practicality. Who needs them? If you have real things to say it will show through. I will carve my niche right next to the story of Peter Pan. I will learn of unencumbered, everlasting youth, thus transforming me into one of The Greats.
I want to write something raw, deep, silly and unexpected. I want to be the Me of my time. My shortcomings and inspirations will be on display. I will observe my surroundings, steal moments, and put them into words. I will read of all The Greats–admire their works, their essence, their lives. I will take bits and pieces, but I will never become them. I will talk of my own personal troubles and outlook and offer my own advice. I will be haphazard and careful, hesitant and free spirited. I will serve as a guide and a warning. I will connect with those around me and be terrified of the reciprocation. My work may live beyond my grave or perhaps never see daylight. Regardless, it will be genuine and effortless. I will see my thoughts formed into ideas, ideas to written word. However hidden, those meant to see it, will. They will grasp what I mean– jumbled or mediocre or verbose–they will feel what I am ultimately saying. My writing will reach who it is supposed to and make an impact. Be it one person or a million. I want to be one of their Greats.

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