Writing love stories are a chore. She switched on her laptop, water bottle at her side, ready to write a touching, all-consuming love story until she realised... she had absolutely nothing to say. It felt like there was Botox injected into her brain. So, she tried switching genres: Mystery? Thriller? Horror? The only horrifying thing that has happened to her so far is her ability to convince herself she is doing something meaningful despite "0 words" flashing at the bottom of the screen. So, she started reading works from other authors to hopefully find inspiration, only to discover a new horrifying fact. Her words and stories look like dog’s waste compared to others poetic; magnificent yet humble words which were so well-strung together, her previously atrophied tear ducts were welling up. No wonder all of her previous works were rejected. Right before her brain started planning a pity party, she comforted herself.
"It's okay... you're just starting out".
But seeing people younger than her publishing books and people her age writing words she never would have thought of made her feel like a loser. A big fat loser. She felt that her life is insignificant. She is only 21, and she thinks her life is over. She blames the guilty pleasure romcoms she watches from time to time. 23 and living in a penthouse making six figures? The only figures she'll be making any time soon are from sticks. And where is her prince? Love stories really are a chore.
© 2022 Alison Lian