Thursday Inspo: How I Wrote Myself into a Real-life Romantic Comedy – That Turned into a Survivalist Thriller
As a filmmaker, Melissa thought she could write the screenplay for her own love life. When she got lost in a hailstorm searching for her ex, she realized she desperately needed a new ending.
Looking for some inspiration before submitting to our True Romance Writing Prize? Check out one of our favorite Narratively Classics below. And “like” the story for a chance to win a super-fun giveaway from our partners over at the Belletrist team, a copy of their latest book club pick, Searches: Selfhood in the Digital Age by Vauhini Vara. Click through and like away!
How I Wrote Myself into a Real-life Romantic Comedy – That Turned into a Survivalist Thriller
He doesn’t love me. He never loved me. And he isn’t looking for me — so I damn well better survive the night on my own. No food, no tent, no map. No one to blame but myself. Too bad burning hot shame isn’t a heat source.
Moonlight traces a craggy ridgeline up around me in a massive arc. The sparse lodgepole pines give way to barren rock, which means 12,000-foot elevation. Thin air breeds spartan creatures — mountain lions, king snakes, bighorn sheep. Not soft-fingered writers.
My body curls into the fetal position inside the soggy sleeping bag as my teeth chatter with percussive violence. No comfort for animals that don’t belong. The hard earth refuses to yield an inch to the curve of my hip.
I lay my spine flat and look up — I haven’t seen a star in nine years. Even through my panicked fog, the glory catches me. The sky glitters and winks like a showgirl. The Perseid Meteor Shower should peak tonight. Hey if I don’t make it, at least I’ll get a good show, right? But nothing falls.