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I Am Creative

Writers are born and they are great readers and creative. It's hard to explain what puts the ideas in my head, but I feel an urge to put something down on paper or in the PC on a screen. If it's a fairly good idea, I need to commit it to SOMETHING and share it with others.

Writers will accept a suggestion in an ongoing story, particularly if they hit "writer's block". But don't attempt to write or re-write it for them. The story is their 'muse" not yours. I have had people read what my creative brain dictated to me and they say "why don't you - " and suggest something completely different from the direction in which I am going.

I write the story in my head - beginning and ending, then flesh out the details in between. When it flows like it should, then I can share it with you and the neighbor's bulldog and everyone else in between.

Margaret Mitchell and Harper Lee wrote their books without anyone's help. Writing is a solitary occupation, often frustrating when you hit a "glitch".

Share your thoughts - or better still, write your own book or story.
[big]The Ticket[/big]


I think you were on a train. But it might just as easily have been an ice cream parlour or a coffee shop. Either way, you were sat at a narrow table opposite a quietly confident and attractive woman in her mid 30's. You were watching her out of the corner of your eye and pondering her life. How you wish you could feel so beautiful and capable - and the gulf there was between you.

As she got up to leave something escaped her hand and fluttered to the table. It was a ticket the like of which you'd never seen. Without a second thought you grasped the ticked and shouted to attract her attention.
"Excuse me! You dropped something"
The woman turned with a quizzical expression and saw what you were offering her.
"Oh that", she said, "I don't need that any more, why don't you have it", and with a gentle smile she was gone.

The ticket was very ornate and obviously not new. The edges were worn and the colours were beginning to fade with age but whatever it advertised had once been very expensive.

"WE CAN HELP", said the ticket, "ONE CREDIT", and an address revealing the location of an establishment in the Chinese quarter.

It was the kind of ticket that positively oozed intrigue and which any inquisitive author would automatically bury safely in her handbag for future reference.

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But the real story hadn't even started yet.

It was some weeks later while searching her purse that she came across the ticket again.
"THE TIME IS AT HAND", said the ticket in it's distinctive yellow font, "ONE CREDIT", and the address of the establishment in the Chinese quarter.

"The time is at hand?" queried Chelle.
"Wait! That's not what it said!" her eyes exclaimed without a hint of comprehension.

Near-total-recall is a must for any aspiring author and try as she might she couldn't remember what it had said before, but it hadn't said THAT! With a distinct sense of unease she transferred it from the bottom of her purse to the inner zip flap which held regularly accessed items and resolved to keep an eye on it. It was to be another week before the ticket proudly declared "Go NOW - ONE CREDIT", in it's familiar green font as her bag dropped to the floor in the dry cleaners. She quickly collected her spilt belonging from the floor completed her transaction and all but ran out into the street where she leant against the shop front to calm down.

There was definitely something going on with that ticket. It was reacting. With shaky hands she straightened out the hastily crumpled ticked and stared at it again eyes wide in amazement.

"PLEASE" said the ticket, but at least the font was still green.

Far too vivid an imagination could only think one thought as she stared unblinking...

"Are you talking to me".

"YES" pulsed the ticket, slowly transitioning to "PLEASE GO NOW".

"I don't believe this." muttered Chelle as years worth of fear and anxiety threatened to overwhelm her.

"YOU'LL BE FINE" pulsed the ticket in gold scarlet and purple - "PLEASE GO NOW".

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The ticket was an exact copy of the shop front. It's twisted painted columns, "WE CAN HELP" emblazoned proudly in the middle of the window in red, the ornate and elaborate hand-painted scroll work framing the writing, every little detail was there. See the ticket and you've see the shop.

She looked at the ticket again. It's slowly pulsing "YOU'LL BE FINE" having settled down to a soothing sea green. That magic was afoot was undeniable. But the real question was what sort of magic.

"What sort of magic is this?", she though of the ticket.

"YOU CHOOSE THE MAGIC", replied the ticket, the writing pulsed even more vibrantly than before.

And with that she was in the dimly lit shop, a long wooden counter before her, and to the back endless shelves from floor to ceiling stacked with row upon row of large glass jars, each one aglow it's own unique colour neatly presented in the order of the rainbow. But where the rainbow had previously ended were yet more jars of colours she had never seen, their labels glowing for all to see, ultred, violenta, octamarine, trueblack, dyscorpia… and many more.

She half turned to check her escape route to the door and was shocked to find there wasn't one. There was no route because there was no door! She was trapped!

"Can I help you?", came a gentle enquiry from the cat she hadn't noticed laying curled up on the end of the counter, "I usually can".

"Who are you?" Chelle barked at the cat her anxiety not helped by the fact that the cat appeared to be growing out of the counter itself.

"I am the shop." smarmed the cat, "How may we be of service today?".
"I'm sure we have your hearts desire.", it continued, "Assuming you know what it is..."

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Michelle pondered this deeply. "Anything my heart desires, assuming I know what it is".

So many needs and wants. But where to start. Looking down at the ticket in search of inspiration she was greatly relieved to see that "THREE CREDITS" was now emblazoned across it's front.

"Health Wealth and Happiness" came briefly to mind, only to be scorned for the cliche it was... Reinforced by the unexpected recollection of an elderly friend who'd neither health or wealth yet still appeared to be one of the happiest people she knew.

Loneliness would be a good one to get rid of she mused, eying up the cat which was gradually fading back into the counter top from whence it came. And true to form, it being magic shop, a series of jars drifted gently from their place on the shelves and lined up neatly in space before her awaiting inspection. Each jar held what appeared to be a red mist swirling in the space within ranging from Deepest Darkest Red to Vivid Ultra Scarlet which positively buzzed with excitement before her mesmerised eyes.

"You're very nice", she thought to Vivid Ultra Scarlet , "but I'm not sure I can know what to do with big bold feelings".

Vivid Ultra Scarlet nodded in acquiescence and drifted gently back to it's shelf followed by several others of similar hue and saturation.

This was easier than she'd anticipated. The jars seemed to be helping her choose. Turning her attention to the darkest jar she pondered it's murky depths and wondered what it was.

"I'M UNREQUITED" said the jar with brutal honesty.
"Oh no you'd never do!" reacted Chelle in a state of high alarm, "That's what I am now!" - instantly hating herself for fear she'd just made the jar as unhappy as she was.

The surrounding jars gave Deepest Darkest Red what she could have sworn was a hug before as one they too drifted gracefully back to their shelves.

Four jars remained. All scarily red and breathtakingly beautiful with not one in the range to which Chelle had assumed she belonged. By instinct she'd associate herself more with Deepest Darkest Red who's sombre advances she'd already rejected so vehemently. But perhaps that was the whole point... instead of being who you are... why not take a chance and become who you'd like to be?

She didn't like taking risks. They'd never once worked out. But even as she frowned her disapproval of the entire business the choice was made and the three not-quite-so-vibrant jars bowed and dutifully returned to their shelves.

"What the flock have I done!" a voice wailed in her head, automatically self-censoring for fear of offending the author of her misery.

"YOU CHOSE YOUR HEARTS DESIRE" replied the ticket in Truest Scarlet text, "TWO CREDITS".
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The following day with no memory of having exited the shop Michelle walked into her office to continue work on her latest novel. She'd written herself into a corner with the two main characters and wasn't at all sure how to resolve it. He was a slob. Bordering on being a waster. All the early promise of a redeemable young man seemed to have evaporated leaving the heroine adrift in a sea of uncertaintly - him becoming ever more dominant while she seemed to be retreating ever more into herself.

"You need to grow up.", she admonished the heroine. "He shouldn't be treating you this way. You ought to be fighting back and taking control".

Something shivered with her. A thought became two. Two thoughts became several, and several followed hot on the heels by still more became the next three chapters - by which time the heroine had fought her way out of an impossible situation and was giving her beau an untimatum.

"Shape up or ship out!".

Chelle was completely drained. It was 4am and sheer mental exhaustion overcame the desire to keep magic going as she padded down the hall to her bedroom. With hands still shaking with the exhilaration at overcoming the block she undressed and sank into the welcoming embrace of her duvet with not so much as a sideways glance at her night attire still folded neatly on end of the dresser. As she settled into sleep her mind floated back to where the days work had begun oh so long ago. She began to re-discover exactly how the transformation had happened. How a slip of a girl not yet out of her teens had somehow found a way to not only match the strength of an errant older male but actually surpass him in power and authority. She hadn't known such a thing was possible yesterday, yet today it had flowed out of her like water. "Something has obviously happened" was her last thought as sleep overcame her.

"YOU'RE A GOOD LEARNER" pulsed the ticket in gold scarlet and purple from the kitchen.

"THANK YOU" pulsed Michele's heart in reply.

Prompted by the unspoken communication Chelle's body re-arranged itself in it's sleep. A hand came to rest on a breast where once it would have found flannelette. It was a nice breast, her hand cupped it perfectly and the breast swelled slightly with the knowledge that it was loved. As she followed the twists and turns of her story in her dreams the quilt slipped silently to the floor the shop began to materialise around her. The soft fur of a feline counter gradually replaced the bed, the first light of dawn outside her window shone through to row after row of magical jars looking for all the world like the finest stain glass, and for the first time in a long while our heroine was content.

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"PICK ME", said the jar labelled Voluptuous, as it, and a host of others jockeyed for position above her naked frame.

As quick as a flash her Truest Scarlet heart recognised the match and leapt out to embrace the jar. Copious amounts of it's rich purple liquid self-poured and duly anointed her every limb as unseen hands met with her own to coax it into every crevice. Voluptuous suited he so much better than Thin or Big Breasted, or Long Legged she thought as the hands worked their magic. Voluptuous was somehow the most real of all the shapes. It allowed for food and happiness and laughed in the face of dietitians and definitely encouraged the best sort of cuddles. Voluptuous was also the stuff of the Rubenesque women who's nudes adorned the walls of practically every great cathedral in Europe. Voluptuous was a very welcome addition indeed. It was also Fucking Hot.... she decided, as she giggled and worked it into her thighs.

"DON'T FORGET ME" suggested a second jar who's golden flakes danced irresistibly in their golden fluid in light from the window.
"YOU'LL NEED SOMEONE NICE TO SHARE ALL THIS WITH." - it added.

"Of course!", thought Chelle, somewhat embarrassed that she hadn't thought of it herself.

"ME TOO" said DragonBlood who's dark red lustre promised to ward off even the sternest threat to her heart.

Michelle sighed with happiness and contentment as she gratefully accepted them all. A touch of Wisdom so not to be caught unawares - but not so much as to reduce her love of fantasy. A healthy dollop of ResilientRed to wrap around her TruestScarlet Heart in case of emergencies. And just a quarter-pinch of modesty so as not to hide too many of her obvious charms from the one she knew would come looking for her one day.

Each fluid, and too many more to mention, were worked deep into her soul by the myriad of tiny helping hands flitting to and fro over her skin. She twisted and turned and writhed and opened herself up to welcome every treasure in turn as she luxuriated in knowing that she was at last both adorable and adored. A hand bigger and stronger than the others settled firmly and confidently at the entrance to her womanhood and caressed it.

"DON'T FORGET YOUR DRAGON EGG" said the whole shop in unison - as the tiny hands spread her legs wide and delved deep within her to implant the precious cargo in her womb.

"GOOD AS NEW" said the cat.

"BETTER!" said the shop, as it faded gently out to reveal a beautiful confident young woman laying naked on her bed, arms and leg akimbo in the rays of the morning sun.


"I must remember to find someone to pass the ticket along to while there's still a credit on it.", she thought later that day as she spell-checked the finished manuscript. It was her best work yet, she judged. It's so nice being able to kick it up a notch and get yourself out of a fix once in a while.

I think he was on a train. But it might just as easily have been an ice cream parlour or a coffee shop. Either way, he was sitting at a narrow table opposite a quietly confident and attractive woman in her late 20's. He'd been watching her out of the corner of his eye for a good 30 minutes, pondering her life. How different she was and how he wished he could meet a woman so beautiful and capable - the gulf between them seemed immeasurable... but in approximately 2 minutes and 15 seconds she would change his life for ever.

The Beginning.
JupiterDreams · 26-30
@RemovedUsername0000 Yeah, that's true haha xD It can be hard to find an audience sometimes
@JupiterDreams Do you write regularly. I don't. I write to get things straight in my own head as much as anything. Some things like this I wrote because I had one particular person in mind but then I can go for months without inspiration. I could have done with someone to collaborate with to tweak the last chapter. It doesn't come across as personal as I wanted it to be.
MaryJanine · 61-69, F
@RemovedUsername0000 Yes, I do, but I have done it for AGES. Don't work too hard, because you just have writer's block. I suggest, put it away, out of sight, and don't worry about it. Think of other things.You will think of what you want to say, and it will come. Trust me.
MaryJanine · 61-69, F
@RemovedUsername0000 It bores some people. But anybody (like you and me) who can write and put it down SHOULD. There are some people on SW who don't like this kind of thing. But I do - this is the way I write - and so do other people. Keep it up for those of us who like it.
@MaryJanine Do you write yours all in one go and post them a chapter at a time or do you post them as you write. I saw my whole story in my head in a matter of minutes one day but it took me a week of writing every night to put it into words. There's still a few bits I'm not totally convinced I couldn't have done better on. Some bits were easier to get right than others.
MaryJanine · 61-69, F
@RemovedUsername0000 I post as I go. Often, I go to bed at night and can't get to sleep. I go back to where I left off, think, now, where was I? and close my eyes. Depending on when I can get back to writing again, the things fall into place, almost like one dream connected with another.

 
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