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10 Tips For Writers from Buzzfeed


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Gee, start with the car blowing up!

Okay:

Amy closed her eyes and forced herself to relax, to ease the tension in her shoulders, in her jaw, in her fists. The piercing wails just would not cease, and were penetrating directly to her spine, making her thoughts muddled and confused. She couldn't think, couldn't act. She wanted to wail and scream right back at the source of the problem.

Amy glanced at the balloon. A perfectly good one, she had thought. She spent good money on it. How was she supposed to know, as she blew it up for her distraught son's third birthday party, that he wanted a plane, not a car balloon.

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