During creative writing last night, I was talking to a friend of mine - Clair. She was having trouble with the ending of a short story.
I ran some ideas past her. I hadn't read any of the story, and didn't know a thing about it except for a couple details about the failed ending, but I was pretty much working blind. I gave several suggestions that didn't work, and then I gave her an example from the Wind Rises. I talked about the ending, how it was sad, but it had that hope of "I will live on."
And that was just what Clair needed to finish her story. She cut out the last couple pages and finished with a nice paragraph about him continuing to fight on, even after losing an important person.
This might be strange, but I felt incredibly excited that I was able to help.
Maybe because I never seem to be able to give helpful advice about filling in a story. At least, I can't think of any previous successful attempts... Have I?
I do seem to get very excited if I'm able to really help someone. Like when I helped Nicole with some weird school stuff. And then later I ranted to her about "I wanna heeelp people!"
Yeah. Is that strange?
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