What makes a good writer? For one hour five days a week we sit in a small, warm classroom, hoping against hope we actually get to read an inspiring novel about humanity, or love, or nature, or war. Something, anything would be better than the small texts that teach us about annotation and grammar. Anything would be better than the small texts we read on our screens every second of the day, seven days a week. Hashtags and emoticons and exerpts from a novel of my teacher's choosing are taking over. Social media and boring print-outs are taking over, sure, but at least some of us still care. We care about good writing. We care about inspiring novels, we aspire to be incredible authors that make a difference, we connect with the characters in stories, and even though we take part in social media, and grammar packets in a warm engilsh classroom, we care about good writing. So, what makes a good writer? Someone who fights the norms of society and reads paperback books. Someone who reads fanfiction, someone who publishes poems on writing websites. A good writer is someone who falls in love with the art of writing, and wants to share that love with the world. A good writer is someone who is willing to sit in a warm, dark classroom 5 days a week, hoping against hope they read an inspiring novel.
Check on the ones that are okay.
Check on the ones that are "okay". Even the ones that are okay, sometimes aren't okay. Just because somebody smiles and is really outgoing and happy and silly doesn't mean that they are okay. Sometimes the ones with the brightest smiles and warmest hugs aren't TOTALLY FINE. Because sometimes, people lie. They hide the weight on their shoulders that they can't bear to carry anymore. And sometimes its it's not on purpose. We smile because we don't know what else to do.
So the next time your out with friends, or at school, or at a party, whatever it may be, check on the ones that are "okay". Because there's a chance they aren't.
It doesn't take much.
The Day War Began.
On that fateful day, a never ending war began. The war that sends away our men and women to risk their lives. On that tragic day, thousands lost their lives. Mothers, fathers, fighters. Children sat in school and learned addition and subtraction, as the planes tumbled out of the sky. First responders prepared for another ordinary day. But instead some lost their lives, and others returned to their homes with tears in their eyes. Time froze as the news spread. After that fateful day, America was never the same, as the War on Terrorism began.