The Young Elites
by Marie Lu
4 Cupcakes out of 5
I am tired of being used, hurt, and cast aside. 845 more words
This paragraph was to be part of a novel I began writing in early 2008.
The forever unrequited lovelorn loser buys 69 Love Songs on a whim after his first sweetheart breaks up with him and is heartened when he hears a man singing about taking Prozac to be able to sleep at night and how the only thing he ever felt for someone, in disbelief, was not real, or, if you don’t cry, then you just don’t feel it deep enough, and the boy thinks, as he listens, that maybe somebody else out there has had the same feelings, and he feels a little better. 686 more words
A caution: Unless otherwise stated, I make no claims to the quality of the prose, I’m merely an admirer of the art. My inspiration is basically books that, were I to spy them on a shelf when I was a kid, I would have felt scared, intrigued, and like my mom would be super mad at me for even looking at them. 256 more words