I opened my five pound laptop and waited for it to power on. The thing was almost older than my younger brother but it still did the job. After waiting for a while, the screen finally lit up and I typed in my password. It darkened and then lit back up again to my home screen. I opened the only thing on my computer other than Google, the word document.
I’d been writing books for a while. At the ripe age of fifteen, most girls were going out with friends and doing things while I’d much rather sit in my cozy beanbag chair and write. Since I have started writing, I haven’t finished a book successfully. I did finish one, but I’ll admit, it was a picture book when I was six-years-old.
I clicked on the little document icon and waited a moment for it to open. Once it did, I clicked on my most recent masterpiece. Okay, maybe a masterpiece was a little over doing it. I was pretty proud of how it was coming along though. I was especially happy with my characters but one of them was my favorite. Grey Wilder. He was the character that I had created to be my, okay this is going to sound lame, my dream guy.
Grey Wilder and his sister, Lila Grace Wilder, were the main characters of my story. I made them come from a fairly average family in Aria, where they lived. They end up being chosen to go on a quest to the underworld to try and defeat Death, the antagonist of the story.
I typeDE a few more words and then I stopped. I needed to add another character to go along with them in their quest, but who? I thought for a moment as the cursor blinked on my screen, waiting for me to write. No inspiration came to me at all. I closed my laptop and stuffed it in its bulky black bag. I zipped it up and walked downstairs. There was one place that I could always find inspiration. Arden’s bookstore.
I found my mom in the kitchen unloading groceries into the cabinet and fridge.
“Hey, Mom?” I asked.
She closed the fridge. “Hey, honey, mind giving me a hand with these?”
“Not at all,” I said putting my bag down on the kitchen table. I unload one of the plastic bags and start putting away everything inside. “I was wondering if you could drive me to Arden’s so I can do some writing?”
“Of course,” she said as she closed the fridge and put away the last thing. “I need to go get a gift for your cousin’s birthday this weekend, so I have to go down there anyway.”
“Perfect.” I grabbed my computer bag and put on my jacket.
My mom grabbed her keys off the hook by the door. “Go ask Nick if he wants to come with us.”
I stopped with my hand on the door knob. “Why does he have to come? He never lets me concentrate.”
My mom gave me that look that signaled there was so further discussion. I sighed and set my bag down on the ground. I walked upstairs and knocked on his door. “Nick?” When he didn’t answer, I opened his door to see him lying on his bed with headphones in. “Nick!” I shouted a little louder this time. When he still didn’t hear me, I stomped over and waved a hand in front of his face. “Nicolas Ryder Harper, are you listening to me?”
He looked up at me and paused his iPod Touch. “What, Quinn?” Nick had recently gotten an iPod for his 10th birthday and he was using it nonstop.
“Mom and I are going out to Arden’s if you want to come.” I hoped he would say no.
He thought for a moment. “Sure, I’ll go.”
Sighing inwardly, I started to walk out. “Get your stuff together and let’s go.”