Titel: Long Way Down, Long Way Home
Kapitel 2/16
Autorin: meiner einer, Steffi
Altersfreigabe: irgendetwas zwischen 12 und 16 Jahren. Weil es streckenweise doch recht düster rüberkommt.
Sonstiges: Gen Fanfic, Angst, keine Spoiler.
Klappentext: Was, wenn das Leben, das man kannte, auf einmal vorbei ist?
Disclaimer: The characters and places are not mine. This is non-profit fanfiction.

Bin übrigens für jede Art von Feedback dankbar...*hint hint*

( Die Asche war heiß, die Haut an seinen Händen platzte auf, Dean merkte es nicht. Er tastete sich in der Dunkelheit vorwärts wie ein Blinder, hob ein verkohltes Stück Holz hoch, seine Handfläche brannte aber er konnte es nicht loslassen. )

I don't know how to work any harder on my writing. Seriously, I don't, and it's frustrating.

You have no idea how much effort I put into my stories, but it feels like no matter how hard I try, it's never even remotely enough. I think I'm actually doing fine when it comes to building up plotlines and chapters. My skills still need refining there, but I think that overall I'm doing alright.

What bothers me is my lack of style, it bothers me to no end because I try so damn hard. I wish I was one of those writers whose stories you not just love because the plot is good, but because the writing is so amazing (yes, that includes you glorfinniel), and beautiful, just... good.

I know mine isn't. True, there are far worse authors than me, but far better ones as well. And I'm at a point where I think, this is all I can give, I can't do better than that. I look back at my life and how I've always been writing and I think "Shouldn't I be much, much better than this by now?" So maybe I'm not as talented (if at all) as I liked to think, and what you see here is merely the result of years of hard work and practice?

And maybe this is the reason why I hardly ever get reviews, and why I don't think I've ever been rec'd somewhere. I'm just not good enough, and it's fine.

Only it's not. I wanna be a good writer, so badly. I can live with never being an ace at drawing, sewing, singing... but writing?

I wish someone could tell me how to improve my writing. But I'm afraid there's no way, right? I won't give up writing, I could never do that. But...it's just frustrating. To feel you're doing something wrong but not being able to see what it is exactly. And feeling you're lacking that something that seperates a good author from a great author.

I'm tempted to switch the comments off from this post - but then, that'd make me look like a drama queen, right?