The Virginian-Pilot
                             THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT 
              Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Friday, July 14, 1995                  TAG: 9507140062
SECTION: DAILY BREAK              PAGE: E1   EDITION: FINAL 
SOURCE: BY DIANE TENNANT, STAFF WRITER 
                                             LENGTH: Long  :  131 lines

WRITERS' BLOC YOUNG AUTHORS FIND THAT CREATING FICTION IS HARD WORK, BUT IT'S A LABOR OF LOVE.

LILI KAZEMI is fretting a little over a discrepancy in her short story:

If no one can kill a unicorn, how can there be only one left on Earth?

She works through the problem in the same way she composes her fiction. She starts from the beginning, fleshes out the middle, reaches the conclusion. Which is, in the case of unicorns and great writing, willing suspension of disbelief.

``Sometimes you have to let go,'' Kazemi, 16, explains. ``Like Romeo and Juliet, where he holds her and he thinks she's dead, wouldn't he notice her chest breathing? The hardest thing about writing is discrepancies.''

Teens who write fiction are nearly as rare as unicorns. Part of the problem, Lili says, is that writing is hard work. But that's not the only reason.

``I don't think any of my friends are interested in that sort of thing,'' she says. ``Not a lot of people are. . . . I'm sure some people have the ability, but they're worried about being made fun of.''

Lili pecks out stories on the computer in her bedroom, after rolling ideas around in her head.

``It's a lot harder than people think,'' she says of writing. ``Even if it's a one-page story, it can take months.

``English isn't even my favorite subject,'' Lili adds. ``Like on the SATs, I'm way better at math. Verbal could use some improvement.''

``The Last Unicorn'' is only a 1 1/2 pages long. In those few words, Lili saturates the reader with her ideas on respect for the Earth, hunting and . .

Her characters, Rudmer and Snug, are in Persia, seeking to wound and then capture the last unicorn for the U.S. government, which has offered $1 million for it. The unicorn, instead, captures Rudmer and mesmerizes him with a flight around the Earth. In the end, Rudmer's bullet ricochets from the indestructible creature and pierces his own heart with understanding.

``Did you get the names?'' she asks anxiously. ``Rudmer - if you unscramble it, it's `Murder.' And Snug, backward?

``Our English teacher told us that in writing, everything has a reason,'' Lili says. ``You have to read between the lines. So I'm just writing between the lines.''

Lili hopes to become a doctor - a cardiologist or neurologist, perhaps - after graduating from Norfolk Collegiate. Writing as a career, she says, would be too nerve-racking.

Still, she plays with ideas and types her stories, slowly, because her handwriting, she says, is too hard to read. ``Sometimes I'm just trying to make a point,'' she says. ``I'm just trying to convey what I believe in to people.''

The vampire in one of Luis Paredes' short stories is dying of AIDS. The gang member in another story dies from the rival's bullet, wondering what will happen to his mother and little sister.

``A lot of my stories come from fear and things I don't like,'' Luis says. ``Now I'm trying to get things more surreal, more dreamlike. Like horror. I really like horror now.

``I like to write things that aren't as tangible, more existential.''

Luis, 16, and a rising junior at Cox High School in Virginia Beach, will attend a magnet school in the fall. He alternates between writing and art, hoping eventually to marry the two by illustrating his own books.

Writing, he notes wryly, is much cheaper than art: On a basic level, all it takes is a notebook and a pen. But it also takes an idea, and that is where Luis excels.

``I usually take things from, like, my past,'' he says. ``I lived in New York and I found that to be the most surreal place in the world. I remember going to a closet one day, and I remember the clothes just grabbed at me. It might have been a dream. It was really scary.

``I also like to go out and visit places. Once I went to an abandoned parking lot. It sounds like a cliche, but it was a great place, really scary. A piece of concrete almost fell on me. It's full of strange sounds, the wind. It's a great place for ideas. And the Laundromat. Sometimes I go there.''

Sometimes the surreal ideas come to Luis at night, just before sleep. He is then confronted with the practical task of rising and jotting down the ideas before he forgets.

``I just start to write something down, like a sentence. Then these ideas start flashing past me, like a bus going by,'' he explains.

From a page full of ideas, about 10 percent are good, he figures. He writes a rough draft, lets it sit for a while, then comes back to polish and finish it.

``I want to get a feeling of vagueness and something you can't touch, but you know it's true.'' he says. ``I also like to write about things people don't want to talk about, things we keep to ourselves.''

Charlene Chamblee, 16, sits on her Suffolk porch and smiles benignly on an assortment of nieces and nephews springing on and off the porch steps.

With 11 brothers, six sisters and their numerous offspring, she has an abundance of personalities to draw on for the characters in her screenplay.

``It's about a young girl whose mom committed suicide because she couldn't deal with being a single mom. And her grandmother tries to make her like her mother was.''

Charlene works on her screenplay at night, in her room, writing longhand ``so I can go back and change things.'' But she writes in ink.

Writing fiction is not easy, she admits, noting that she has wrestled with the screenplay for about a year. When she finally finishes it, ``maybe next year,'' she hopes to find an agent and market it.

``All those made-for-TV movies I see, I said, `I could write something like that,' '' she says.

Writing dialogue is the easy part, she says. ``Every character has its own personality, and you know what you'd say if you were that type of person.''

As she talks, another personality toddles up the steps to peer through the screen.

``I love writing,'' Charlene says, but she doesn't dream of writing as a career, only of living in a big city. ``I like cities. I used to live in the country, and it's boring.''

Charlene's twin sister, Darlene, prefers writing poetry to prose, and Charlene has dabbled in song lyrics. But that's a sideline.

``I already have sort of an idea of what I want to write next,'' she says. ``Another screenplay.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color staff photo by D. Kevin Elliott

Luis Paredes, 16, is inspired by life's dark side. He alternates

between writing and art.

Color staff photo by Mark Mitchell

Lili Kazemi, 16, plans to be a doctor because a writing career would

be too difficult.

Staff photo by JOHN H. SHEALLY II /

Charlene Chamblee, 16, draws on the many characters in her large

family while working on a screenplay.

INTERESTED IN WRITING FICTION ?

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