I once had a dream about a game called Riffle. I was in a dark Jungle with three of my friends, playing this game with one of them. Depite not having played Riffle before, I won against him. So, another friend of mine was really excited that I had won, but he suddenly went away without saying anything. When he came back, he told me he had asked the master to play Riffle with me. In my dream, this master was very cruel and roasted people, including many of his servants to eat! And because this John had asked the master to play Riffle with me I was obliged to go. I knew if I lost, I would be roasted and eaten.

In the end I won and the master proved much kinder than I had thought he was. It was just silly.

They’re scared of installing a new operating system. It’s just so weird.

I write for myself, not others. I try not to worry about what others might think when they read my story. I try not to care about any typos and grammatical errors and misused words. Those worries are for when I’m editing my draft. I also remind myself that no story starts great, it doesn’t matter if your draft is terrible. You just need to write something. You can improve what you wrote later, but you do need some kind of foundation to build upon.