Deciding which story to write


Over the past few days, I’ve been visiting the novel graveyard (Aka my documents) trying to decide if any of the stories I started and buried had any potential.

They were all first or second chapters, so it was hard to tell where any of them was going, so I decided to go with my heart and choose to continue “Teacup Rebel”. I had started writing “Teacup Rebel” a few years back (3 years I think). I sent the first chapter to one of my closest friends, and asked her for her opinion. She replied with the below (keep in mind that she is not a native English speaker):


You have an amazing imagination you remind me of Harry Potter.

I cant wait till i know whats in your head.

It is such a sad story be aware it might turn into a scary/sad story you do not want this to happen or you will just sound crazy and a perv.

You have to explain character more, what is the Myth, how do they look like, why people think of them as completely ordinary and are not mortified by how they look (The first thought that came to my mind) you want to show how chibis are ordinary but you need to mention their origins, their look, what they are capable of and what they are not,and most importantly how small are they??

On a seperate note, you choose the same words so many time (sadist) maybe also a bit predictable sometimes, like leaving things might get them stolen, or she will convince her friend and she odes convince her im not telling you to be talkative but still less predictable more imagination when it even comes to regular conversation as not to be boring.

The idea is excellent, beyond the word excellent but is your goal is it to show how small people can change the word, or how small insignificant people are mistreated but they can still rise above? we need to reach a goal in the end,

Finally, you are my PRIDE AND JOY.

Thanks a lot babe,

and plz keep sharing and if u dndt like my review i will not tell you my opinion just share bas 😀

I didn’t continue the story then. She used to ask me a lot about it,  tell me how much she believed in me, and how shameful it would be if I wasted my “talent”. I brushed her words it off. I thought because she was my friend, it was an unspoken rule she’d encourage me even if I sucked. She died about a year later in a car accident, and I started to realize how she was one of the rare people who ever believed in me. So, I think I should continue “Teacup rebel”  and dedicated to her memory (even though she did not like that title).

Sorry for being a cliché and over-sentimental. I know that being a cliché is close to an abomination in writing.

Anyway, the story is set in a world where countries have been disbanded. It is a world without belonging, without religion, and without culture. The council rules, and the council members are the ultimate ambassadors of democracy and peace, except for Chibis. Those Chibis look like humans and speak likes ones, but they could fit in the palm of your hand, like moving Barbies. That’s what they are: things, entertainment, and the all around pets. They have no rights or will of their own. Tatsuo, the hero is the story, has lived all his life in a cage, and he is sick of it.  On the other hand, Nouri, the heroine and a blogger with 5 million subscribers under her belt, wishes for her own cage. Cages keep you safe, and she likes ‘safe’ and ‘comfortable’. The story unfolds after she buys Tatsuo and dresses him in purple pants and a fish net.

Obviously, it’s a fantasy, which is not my forte, but if I’m getting my knees wet, I’m might as well take a dip. So far, I have 3 chapters done, and I’ve started the 4th today.


The image is from


Will I make it as a writer?

That’s the big question, isn’t it? You don’t know me, but I’m betting you’re already thinking, “Nah, get off your unicorn, girl”. Or perhaps you’re one of those rare optimists, you know, the hopers who have more dopamine receptors than the rest of the “sane” people. If you are one of them, I used to be like you. Then I grew up, I stumbled upon life, and now I have a bloody nose because I wasn’t looking at my feet. I tell you; you bump into too many poles if you walk around with your eyes glued to the clouds. The game of weighing my previous expectations against my new realization of what I could actually become was dumbbells of my ankles. I wasn’t happy anymore. Classic, right?

A couple of beaten years later, I realized I spend 8 hours per day building someone else’s dream, then I come back home to wallow about mine.  What if I spent some of that “I suck and I should cry about it” time into actually perusing something that I want more than anything. So what if I don’t get my daily dose of self-petty? What if I ride it thought rather than go with it? If writing felt like a limb and a part of me, I shouldn’t let the hope-eating bacteria get it and then the rest of me without a fight. In every horror movie, there is someone that always survives. The chances of survival was 1 to 100, but if he (usually she) had given up fighting twenty minutes earlier in the movie, there wouldn’t have been that 1%.

So, I decided to suck it up, and do something about what I want. I don’t care if I think my first chapter is toilet paper compared to twilight, which is already toilet paper (I’m being petty cause I’m jealous).  I’ll keep on going and maybe with enough effort, I’ll publish a novel.

So the deal is, I’ll create a poll here. Place your bets. I’ll keep you updated, and we’ll see how this gamble turn out.

N.B. You can vote multiple times, so you can always change your bet.