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OriginAlity

By Jennifer Weigel

The author glared at the blank page splayed across the simple desk, black pen in hand. The empty white paper stared back, unblinking and unyielding. Expectation hung heavy in the air, bringing with it a sense of dread.

“C’mon, let’s get this story rolling,” the paper coaxed. “We’re wasting valuable time.”

“I don’t know, I can’t come up with anything.” The author slumped away from the rigid chair back, dropping the pen to the desk. It landed with an audible clack and rolled toward the edge of the wooden slab before coming to a sudden stop.

“Well, you could write about a motley crew of adventurers embarking on a dangerous quest, uniting the forces of good to thwart evil,” the white sheet suggested.

“That’s been done to death already, and in too many forms – with magic, technology, devils, and/or dragons, even in space – Hell, all of the above at once…” the author griped. “It’s not original.”

“What about the opposite? Side with the villains for a change.” The paper waited patiently.

“That’s been done to death also! Besides, it honestly isn’t any different – everyone loves their anti-heroes,” the author moaned.

“Why not tell a story with mice? Or from both sides at once?” the blank page pondered aloud.

“Been done,” the author sighed. “And done.”

“Well,” the paper continued, “you could write something as a series of emails, texts, logbooks, infomercials, or even counting tree rings…”

“Ugh, even that isn’t original anymore. All of it’s been done. Seriously, there are no new stories.” The author massaged their temples.

“Really? Does it matter that much whether it’s new?” The blank page rumpled a bit at the edges, voicing its displeasure in crisp, crunching folds.

“Yes! Everything’s been written already. It’s all so unoriginal now. We’re just beating more and more dead horses,” the author lamented.

“But people still buy books, right? They still read stuff? There’s still demand,” the empty page posited. “You can get in on that action.”

“To what end, though?” the author quipped.

“I dunno – to earn some money, to make someone smile or think about things differently, to get your thoughts down and out, to play… Seriously, there are a whole bunch of reasons to write,” the paper spoke tersely.

“But” the author groaned, “I want to be original.”

“That really doesn’t matter,” the blank sheet stammered, curling along its long edge until it turned over.

“Don’t be so flippant!” the author yelled. “I really don’t want to write the same old thing as everybody else. I need to be different. Unique.”

“But being original is so overrated, and it’s not original. Anyone and everyone and their second cousins twice removed all want to be different – cough – unique – cough – to say something that’s never been said before,” the paper vexed. “Seriously, you writers are all the same!”

“How can wanting to be original make us more alike?” the author spat.

“I dunno, but it certainly does,” the blank page chided. “And it makes all of you unbearably annoying – you have way too high of expectations and are way too focused on the outcome.”

“I just want my writing to matter,” the author huffed.

“Being new and different doesn’t automatically make something matter,” the white sheet chastised. “Write well and from the heart if you want it to count. Connect with your audience. Write something worth reading.”

“And just what is that?” the author sneered.

“Any number of things,” the paper elaborated. “There are all kinds of readers with as varied of tastes as there are types of ice cream… and I’ll let you in on a secret – there are way more than just thirty-one ice cream flavors to be had.”

“Pfft, I’m not writing about ice cream,” the author dismissed.

“You don’t have to. Ice cream is just a metaphor, and a limited one at that. But do write,” the paper directed. “The more you write, the better you’ll get, and the more audience you’ll build.”

“Harrumph. I still don’t know what to write about. It all seems so trite and overdone,” the author grumbled.

“Then write about this conversation,” the empty page plainly stated. “Just write something, anything. We all have to start somewhere.”

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