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Post by valitrix on Mar 16, 2013 20:46:42 GMT -5
[style=width:400px; height:200px; background-image:url(http://i1208.photobucket.com/albums/cc361/gemster12/4_leggings_005678_zps7e7465c4.jpg);] 327 WORDS // CLICK FOR OUTFIT // FOR BENTLEY SORRY IT"S SO SHORT, I'M NOT GOOD WITH STARTING POSTS Typically when one thought of libraries, an image of a dusty, quite place with shelves and shelves of books came to mind. That was not the Mayview library though. There was a murmur of whispers that filled the place, as people worked together on projects or attempted to study as a group. It wasn't at all dusty or old either, in fact it was equipped with the latest and greatest technology. Philippa wasn't in need of one of the library computers however, or even a book for that matter. No, Philippa was at the library to write. She'd brought along with her book bag, which of course contained her pens and writing journal. Now all she needed was a quiet place to sit down and write.
It wasn't often Philippa went out seeking quiet, usually she was more interested in finding somebody to talk to. She was after all, very social. The teen managed to settle on a small table off to the side - free of other students, and therefore free of distraction.
Soon, Philippa was comfortably seated, pen in hand and journal open to a blank page. She was determined to get to work making a new story for writing club. Newspaper had been taking up a lot of her time, plus training for cross country made things a bit hard too. Finally she had some free time and she would write. Unfortunately, she really didn't have any ideas. It was kind of hard to write the most magnificent story in the world without any ideas. How was she going to become a famous, bestselling author when she had no ideas?
Seconds passed, then minutes. all the while her pen remained poised to write, but her mind was blank. Why was it suddenly so hard? Usually she was practically spewing things she wanted to write about. So this is what writer's block feels like. Philippa thought glumly. "Stupid empty brain." She muttered under her breath.
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Post by bentley on Mar 17, 2013 20:07:35 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,padding-left:16px; padding-top:0px; padding-right:0px; padding-bottom:0px; background-image:url(http://i51.tinypic.com/2nbr3oi.jpg) ] I'll be your entertainer I'm putting on a show - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Homework was never a fun thing to do. Especially if you actually wanted to have a life elsewhere. it was these thoughts that invaded Bentley's mind as he walked down the hall to the library. He couldn't concentrate in his dorm room, and as much as he didn't particularly enjoy going to the library, he knew it might be the only place he'd actually get anything done. It was a sad fact, but it was true. The junior repositioned the strap of his backpack on his shoulder, sidestepping to get out of the way of a couple freshman who were jogging down the hall. Hopefully a teacher didn't see that. He could already hear that nagging voice saying 'no running in the halls!' The sad thing was no one ever really paid attention to that rule.
He didn't know why the teachers kept enforcing it so much if they knew it was just going to broken as soon as their backs were turned. He shook his head, a small smile crossing over his lips as he reached the doors to the library. He walked in, immediately bored. Yeah... this was really going to suck. He sighed, looking around for a place to sit down and attempt to do the annoying work he was supposed to be doing. It seemed like all the teachers at the school had collectively decided to assign the most amount of work to be due at the same exact time. Honestly, it felt like they were all plotting against him sometimes. He knew it was kind of expected, but come on! There had to be at least some leeway. But apparently, that was just wishful thinking at this point.
Bentley spotted a girl that was on the cross-country team with him, and that solved his problem on figuring out where to sit. Might as well sit with someone he knew, than alone and miserable over all the work. He made his way over, setting his things down before taking a seat. "Looks like you're having loads of fun. Watcha working on?" He grinned, more than happy to find anything to distract him from actually doing his work. Amazingly he got good grades, despite how badly he procrastinated. He worked better under a lot of pressure, even though he always loathed the pressure itself. So, talking to his teammate was a really nice distraction. Sure beat the hell out of studying for literature and writing papers on American history.
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Post by valitrix on Mar 29, 2013 9:19:24 GMT -5
[style=width:400px; height:200px; background-image:url(http://i1208.photobucket.com/albums/cc361/gemster12/4_leggings_005678_zps7e7465c4.jpg);] Growing desperate, Philippa tried scribbling down whatever came to mind. This resulted in a few random paragraphs that looked to her like they'd been written by an elementary student. Sighing with exasperation, she crumbled up the sheet of paragraphs into a tight ball and flung it at a nearby trash can. Unfortunately, she had terrible hand-eye coordination apparently, and missed by a long shot.
Glumly, the sophomore retrieved the ball of paper and made her way to the waste basket with it. After depositing it where it belonged, Philippa returned to the table and continued attempting to write something. The Writing Club was meeting in a couple days again and she had nothing. It was all very depressing for her.
Some time passed of Philippa getting nothing done, when someone arrived at the table. "Looks like you're having loads of fun. Watcha working on?" He asked after taking a seat. "Oh I'm having loads of fun." She replied in an uncharacteristically sarcastic tone. It seemed the frustrations of writer's block were getting to her. Immediately she felt rather guilty about her comment and added sheepishly. "Sorry, that was rude. I'm not having an easy time with this work." It was both an apology and a means to explain her rather snarky behavior.
"And, to answer your question, I'm trying to at least start a story for writing club. It's not going so well however." Having answered Bentley's question, Philippa preceded to crumble up another sheet of story ideas she deemed unsuitable. Maybe it would help if she took a break, but the girl felt she had no time for that. Still it couldn't hurt is she talked with Bentley for a bit to take her mind of things. "What about you? What homework brings you to the library on this lovely spring day?" She asked with a friendly smile.
As much as she usually enjoyed writing, Philippa would have loved to be outside that day. It was starting to get pretty nice outside as summer swiftly approached. It would be good for her to get some jogging in, she'd been slacking off a bit over the winter and she needed to get back into good shape for cross country in the fall. Her parents expected her to work her hardest and do her best at everything after all. Avoiding jogging because she didn't feel like it sometimes wasn't a good way to do that. Hopefully it wouldn't be too hard for her to get back into the swing of things.
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