Week 1 Pt 2: Wednesday

Today I wrote my autobiography works for English. I feel sad and melancholy. I kind of miss the little girl that I was and wish that I could still find time to write and create novels. I have romanticized this novel idea. Sure, it sounds good in my head, but if I were to actually put pen to paper I would get about a page done before I would grow tired of the direction of the story. I have never finished any novel that I started. Today, even when I pick one up and begin to read it, I can't create an ending. I have always felt like I have a creative bone, I mean my grandmother is an artist. Perhaps I have not found my niche? Writing when your forced to for english seems so much easier. You know that you have to have something done by a certain time/day and you create time and get the project done. Maybe, I should put thought like that into my novel writing? Either way, it's time for me to rediscover my creative side. I miss her.