A Story Should Entertain The Writer, Too.

“A story should entertain the writer, too.”

— Stephen King

me re-reading my writing trying to figure it out:

The loft was dark, the illumination of light from the flat screen gave the wide space a relaxed, cozy feeling. The darkness in a way provided sanctuary, a place to recharge and forget about the looming threats that seemed to follow the West Allen’s like rats after the Pied Piper. On the couch, cuddled into Barry’s side was Thea.

There was a shuffling of feet out in the hall, a jangle of keys, and finally a satisfying click. Light from the hall flooded through the door, filling the entry with a warm yellow glow.

“Hey you two, what are we watching?” It was Iris. From the door she could make out the upper silhouette of her husband. From previous experience she knew the twinkle toed peanut was buried under covers glued to Barry’s side.

“The dinosaur movie,” Thea murmured. Her mouth opens wide, releasing one in a series of drowsy yawns.

“Land Before Time,” Barry clarified.

“Ooh, an oldie, but a goodie.” Iris flipped on the loft lights, making Theadora whine and hide beneath her blanket until her eye adjusted to the bright light. Iris kicked off her heels, then walked round to the couch where Theadora and Barry were cuddled together.

Her face fell faster than a rock. “Thea?” She knelt in front of the spot where Thea sat. “Sweetie, were you crying?” Theadora’s eyes were puffy, her whole face washed with a dull shade of red.

“Yeah, we got a bit sad when Little Foot’s mom died,” Barry answered, tucking some misplaced strands of hair back behind Thea’s ear. Thea takes her eyes off the movie, looks at Barry, and smiles. Her usual smile, though sleepy, the mouth close ends pulled up, shifting all of her freckles.

“Well I hate to break up this cuddle fest but... It’s bedtime, Thea.” Iris said holding her arms out for the little girl to crawl into. Thea wasn’t much of a fighter when it came to her bedtime. She enjoyed sleep, Barry on the other hand…

“Aw come on, can’t we finish the movie?”

Iris scoffed at her husband. “Barry, she looks like she’s about to pass out.” Theodora had been awake for sixteen hours, which in her case for her age was a lot. Her eyes were lazily open, glazed over and unfocused. “Come on, sweetie.” Iris scooped up Thea, realizing the child was too exhausted to move.

Thea cuddles in, resting her chin on Iris’s shoulder. “I’m tired,” she hummed, rubbing her tired little eyes with the insides of her palms.

“Oh, I know,” Iris cooed, as she carried Thea towards her room.

Thea’s eyes widen. One second she’s in Iris’s arms, the next she’s in Barry’s lap, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. “Sorry. Almost forgot." She murmured. “Goodnight, Barry.” She wrapped her arms around his chest and pulled herself close. She leaned in, so her forehead rested against his chest. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” Barry pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Sleep well, peanut.” In that moment, his arms squeezed a fraction tighter before releasing. Thea giggled, sliding off Barry’s lap then returning to Iris.

Thea was a sweet kid. So bright, kind. The more time he spent with her, the more Barry fell for the little things about her; She always colored with tongue out; She sang her favorite song when she was uncomfortable; She always had stickers in case someone needed a cheer up; She gave the warmest hugs.

“I ran really fast today,” Thea said, taking Iris’s hand.

“You did?”

“Mm hmm, faster than Barry even.”

The more time he spent with her, the harder Barry found it to lie to himself. He loved her as if she were his own.

MEAN GIRLS 2004 | dir. Mark Waters

I think my writing is improving as I stop asking myself “is this good enough?” and start asking myself “is this honest? Is this true to me?”

“Good” is so arbitrary, but the harder I focus on being honest over being good I think the quality improves and connects more genuinely with people

to all my writer friends out there.