usually my advice is keep writing, its bound to get better.
i studied creative writing in college and there were a lot of teachers who had a variety of different ideas on what makes a good writer.
they did agree on the idea that in order to write well you have to read a lot.
i chose to disagree with them there.
i think you need to read, but not a lot, and you need to read with a good eye on what to look for.
if youre a basketball player, you dont have to watch every player that ever lived, but it wouldnt hurt to watch a lot of basketball in general, and watch it with someone who knows the game, and see how good players adjust to certain situations.
same goes for writing. read the good people, read the popular people, read the people that everyone admires, and find out what makes them good. then write.
i think that if you read too much, you will have a hard time carving out your own style. i think that you should write twice as much if not three times as much as you read. when you read, read to learn something about the art of writing.
but when you write, do your best to try something new with each post, or story, or poem, or article.
always be risking. always stick your neck out. maybe not with how you are writing but by what topic. this post is a risk for me because you can seem incredibly pompus to give others tips on writing when you indeed are not even a paid writer.
people are always bringing up the fact that they have writers block. one of my teachers said that writers block is the world telling you to quit writing for a little while. an hour, two hours, a day.
again, i disagree. i think writers block is what happens when the devil inside of your mind convinces you that what you are writing is no good, so you dont even get a chance to get the first stuff out which will clear the way for the magic.
my solution for writers block is to write out all the things that terrify you, or write about the things that you think are dull, or write about the things you are avoiding.
two chicks came over to my house friday night. late. must have been 3 am. bars must have been closed. they were drunk and sloppy. i dont answer the door at night because i dont have a peep hole, all i have is a french window and if i stick my head into the window they will see me.
i heard them giggling and i wasnt afraid of gigglers so i stuck my head in the window.
what? i asked.
tony pierce? is that you in there? our friend told us that you lived here.
go away, i have venerial diseases.
god did they laugh at that one. one fell over on the other and they stumbled down the three stairs that led up to my porch. they landed on the grass. skirts up, panties, heels.
i turned off the porchlight and put the chain on the door and listened to the neighbor’s dog yap as they laughed and tried to get up only to fall overthemselves again.
i thought about letting then in since they were going to drive home if i didnt do something to stop them.
but im not all that nice, deep down.