Intro

I think all authors can relate to this one. Oh and the advice given, was once given to me by my son. No idea where he read it / heard it / got it from, but it really does help me.

- Day 12 -

A hissing stream of colorful language came from the table next to his. Harry's eyes widened as he only understood maybe half of what she said. Her tirade ended with a defeated sigh and a sudden thump that was probably louder than it should have been because the librarian shushed her rather sharply.

The girl at the next table physically flinched at the reprimand and her head came up slowly. She smiled weakly and mouthed a 'sorry' to the old woman. Harry watched the byplay and was doing his best not to giggle at the girl's antics but failed. The girl had heard him, and he covered his mouth with both hands to keep from upsetting the librarian. The last thing Harry wanted was to be kicked out of the library.

She looked at Harry and grinned at the small boy. She shrugged and whisper/said, "Sorry about that. Not exactly the most proper things to say… well ever, but…" The girl, a teenager of about sixteen years of age with hair that was short yet standing up surprisingly high off the top of her head. Kind of reminding Harry of his own unruly locks, yet the girl looked as if she did it on purpose. She sighed somewhat dramatically and gestured with her pencil at her spiral notebook, "I lost the plot."

Harry was confused. His brows furrowed and he looked at the half page of clearly written words that she had been writing just moments ago and realized, "You're writing a story."

"Clever boy," she said with a smirk. Harry huffed and withdrew to his own books. She shrugged unrepentantly, "Just taking the Mickey. No need to get so bent." She began tapping the eraser on the page and sighed, "This chapter is rubbish. I don't want to start over, but I just can't seem to get the MC to do what I want."

Despite himself, Harry asked, "MC?"

"Main character," She explained. "You see, he's sitting with his friend who's trying to tell him what happened and why. He doesn't want to hear it… but I can't seem to get him to walk away."

"Then don't." Harry said before he could stop himself.

Her eyebrow rose and she gave him a small grin, "No? What d'ya think I should do then?"

"Well…" Harry fidgeted then said, "Sometimes we have to hear things we don't want to, but it doesn't mean we have to listen."

She was looking at her notebook again and slowly said, "That makes sense… but… it doesn't work with what I've already written. I can't seem to get past this point. It doesn't matter what angle I try to take."

"Then write it again," Harry suggested. "Put that page aside and don't look at it. You already know what you've written and who your characters are, what's going to happen and what should happen. Just write it again with that in mind. Some things will stay the same, and others may change."

"Brilliant," She smiled at the younger boy and said, "Cheers."

Harry blushed and looked down at the book he had been reading before she started having her mini meltdown. It was hours later before he looked up and realized she had been silently writing furiously in her notebook. Harry just grinned at the girl before putting his book back on the rack and went home.

It would be years later, but one day a new author published her first book and in the foreword, she thanked the nameless little boy in the Little Whinging Library.

Day 12 - Prompt: Write

Word Count: 9642

AN: Thank you, Chalayne