Looking for an Idea
I stared at the blank piece of paper in front of me. Last night I really wanted to write. This morning I have gotten all I needed, a sharp pencil, a clean sheet of paper, and a clean space to write in. Once I looked down at my clean piece of paper, I knew what I forgot; an idea.
Frustrated over my lack of success in my writing, I crumpled my paper and threw it out. I stared at it, lying in the waste basket, until I pitied the sheet of paper, and I brought it out and smoothed it till it was like new.
I knew what I needed; an idea. So I tried everything from trying to snap my fingers to using my powerful psychic powers. In the end, it was no use; I hadn't come up with any idea.
Finally I remembered what Jack London did to get ideas, go up in the freezing north. That sounded like a good idea, so I spent thousands of dollars at REI to get all my survival gear. Then I spent thousands more getting to the arctic. Finally I would get an idea!
Once I was there, I built myself an igloo, got my sleeping bag out, and fell fast asleep. When I woke up, I felt hungry. So I took all my fishing equipment and dug a hole in the ice. My fishing was so poor there that I began to think that there wasn't any fish in the sea.
Then this big old polar bear comes around and wants to fish in the hole I made. I didn't have any objection to that; I was merely content watching it try to fish. Wouldn't he be surprised when he found nothing there!
The polar bear just stood there patiently looking through the hole. In an instant, the bear drew out five seals! The bear ate all of these, but left some of the meat out. I cooked this meat and had a wonderful dinner of seal.
Soon I began to act like one of the arctic animals. I had many adventures, most of them ending with me narrowly escaping packs of arctic foxes.
Once the humans picked me up, I was hardly recognizable. I had a thick bushy beard (even if I was a girl), and sharp canine teeth.
As soon as I came home, I rushed in and shaved. After doing so, I sat down with my sharp pencil and sheet of paper. I looked at it excitedly, thinking of all the experiences I could tell.
I picked up my pencil and then threw it down. "I don't feel like writing," I said, and then I walked away.