Posts Tagged ‘freewriting’


Have you ever felt like you were standing at a crossroads in a town you have never been in before?

I ask this because I find myself lately wondering about The Hourglass. I am standing in the middle of this uncharted forest, trying to look at things from every angle to write the best story possible. However, because my story is vastly complex [I am not just saying that– it is very very complex], I find it increasingly difficult to pick a point of view and stick with it.

As I am sure you’ve noticed by now, my excerpts have jumped a bit, between the Preface and the Chapter One excerpt. [links provided for a reminder of what it is I am blogging about]

So this post while short, is mostly to ask for opinions.

When you pick up a book for the enjoyment of it, which point of view do you prefer to read in?

I’ve put a poll at the end of this blog post to make it quick and easy to post answers with– because at this point I am left scratching my head wondering which way to really truly go.

So before I pull out a twelve-sided-dice that I have stolen from some magic the gathering players, I am looking to you my readers, Help me pick which road to take?!

Oh, before I go anywhere.

As I am sure many of you have felt before, tonight I had a brain fart as a friend of mine used to say, and couldn’t remember the types of POV’s [point of views] So, I used good old google to find out what they were called again. In my blind stumbling, I found this wonderful blog on Blogger, called the beginning writer. I honestly believe it is well worth checking out! Wonderful information in there, not only for the novice but for the experienced as well.

So Here’s the link for you all; if you’re interested– I’ll be following along with her works and maybe I’ll invite her to do a guest post on here sometime!

The Beginning Writer

Oh and here is the post I found on Points of View, A rather good post if you ask me– putting everything in a nutshell I don’t believe i could have done (granted I do tend to ramble don’t I?).

The Beginning Writer: Different Points of View

Welp, I am off for the night!

Always Writing,

Trisha Ellen 

P.S. Yes I am still working on that new signature, I’ll get to it soon hopefully.



So I decided I was going to attempt my hand at the ‘inspire me’ button that we can find in our quick post menu’s. I am sure you have found it already, if not, you can find it beside your notification star at the top of your page, when you click new post. There is a small link beside it literally posted as ‘inspire me’. 

So this is what i was given, save for the italics which is what I have written for this little image. Don’t fret, it won’t be 1000 words. (I hope) 

A picture is worth 1000 words. This safe has been through a lot. Tell its story.

The Old Safe 



To the residents of the old neighbourhood, this old safe is an eyesore that they wouldn’t like anything more then to be rid of. It’s ugly, smelly, and attracts all manner of pests to hid within. Everyone who walks by it can’t seem to figure out why it is still standing in that old vacant lot, just rusting away. 

If only they knew what this ‘chunk of rust’ had done for a family a couple decades ago. 

This old safe, was like any other safe, polished and painted black. Brand new in a shop window, the prize of the small towns lot. Expensive beyond what anyone would have even thought about paying for it. After all who needed a safe that big to hold their valuables  Most people couldn’t afford the safe, never mind the valuables to put in it. 

Then one day, a young man walked into the store and bought the safe at a discount. The safe was delivered the next day, and suddenly it was stored in an office ready and waiting to be filled with objects of value.  

The first object to be placed inside the safe was a tiny shoe, baby blue with this darling teddy bear stitched on the side. The next was a yellow blanket, stained and worn. An old book with a broken spine. Scribbles done on newspaper in bright neon crayon, and even what looked to be a worn down hat. 

Every day it seemed that the safe was being filled with everyday items, most looking like little more then garbage to the outside observer. And then one day the young man closed the door on the safe and spun the lock ensuring his collection of objects where secured.

The man went away, but everyday that safe found itself being touched, and poked at. Summer turned to winter, turned to spring back to summer again. For full turns of the seasons the man was gone, and when he came back he opened his safe, placing a wooden box inside the safe. A long cylinder of some kind of brass. A newer hat with mud caked on the side of it. Pins and badges. Pictures held together with simple elastic band. 

The young man didn’t look very young anymore but he had a family to provide for, so he went to work. As he worked his family grew, and grew and grew. Soon inside the safe went a steel lunch box, papers of many different shapes and sizes. 

The house was filled with laughter, and questions about what could possibly be inside the safe. One day the family who owned the safe went away, to the beach if memory serves and someone thought they should find out what was inside the safe. 

But the safe did it’s job, earned a few dents and scratches in it’s fine black paint. It was kicked and cursed at, yet it kept all the things inside secure from the person who didn’t know his code of entry. Eventually the person left, making away with dishes, silver, even a gold necklace the young man had bought for his then blushing bride-to-be. 

Nobody thought about the safe when they came home, as the police wandered through the house looking for clues to who tried to break into him. Soon enough the family forgot about the break-in, and started adding new things to the safe. Necklaces, bracelets, silver, gold, Things that people believed should be kept in the safe. 

Years passed, and the safe was filled, the laugher and family slowly went away. Leaving the no longer young man to his thoughts and his loneliness. He stopped putting things in the safe, went to the back and bought a safety deposit box, inside he only kept a single sheet of paper. 

The old man died, and the house was cleaned out, the safe was forgotten– because no one had the code to get in. The safe kept everything secured inside– doing it’s job despite the years and time that had passed since it had been shiney and new. 

The house was abandoned, and every now and again people would wander through the house try to open the safe. But they couldn’t do it, they just couldn’t get in without the right code. Eventually the house caught fire, kids playing with matches they said. A new young man came to the wreckage of the house, clutching a single sheet of paper. He twisted the dial, opening the door to the safe, finding a whole life hidden inside. Taking the items out of the safe the young man left the safe standing in the field. 

And there it sat, day after day, week after week… Year after year. 

This safe once did it’s job, keeping the treasures of a single family safe– and I would be willing to bet with a little care and paint, it would be able to do the same again, All it needs is a single chance– But this poor safe will be pitched to the scrapyard and melted down for metal. 

Maybe in it’s next forum it won’t be left to rust. 

Maybe if it wasn’t a safe it could be seen as worthwhile … something worth taking along, instead of an empty vessel used to keep things safe, and discarded when it doesn’t look so pretty anymore. 

What if the safe isn’t a safe, but a mind, filled with memories– only to suddenly go vacant, and rust away? 

It’s something worth thinking about eh?

P.S. I know this little inspire me test didn’t turn out so upbeat and happy as i had originally planned, but maybe if i do another one– We’ll find something nicer to muse about? 

Always Writing, 

Trisha Ellen


Image credit: “safe” – © 2007 Paul Keller – made available under Attribution 2.0 Generic