[Beulah Bell]

Thankfully she has not, and hopefully she never will =). I wrote it with her in mind, but I wanted other people to be able to relate. Let them know that they aren't alone.

[Joe Bonney]

Thankfully she has not, and hopefully she never will =). I wrote it with her in mind, but I wanted other people to be able to relate. Let them know that they aren't alone.

yep, there is always someone else to be there for us. and odds are, there is always someone going through the same thing we are going though at the same time, the world is a small place and everything that happens is never as uncommon as we may think it is.

[stevie trent]

Spoiler

A missing coma after “time”: “Connal was just a boy at the time but he remembered well his father standing defiantly with the men of his village against a marauding band intent on razing it to the ground, shouting as he continually hacked one warrior after another, each kill seeming to add to his fury and strength until his large sword was cutting through them in fluid, sweeping motions they could not block, try as they might.”

Aside from that, well done.

Also, i hear the expression "raze it to the ground" but i thought it was "raise it to the ground"... learned something new. go vocabulary expansion (bulwarks and conscripts were new to me words).

I didn't want to add a comma there but I guess I can. I'm still in the first draft phase so things will be changing. In fact I've already changed and expanded that short sample because of later events in the story.

I use all kinds of fun words like bulwarks, conscripts, ballistae, mangonels etc. too It may be a fictitious setting but war plays a large part, so I'm researching as well. It's a slow process. It's not a cliche magical setting with wizards or dwarves or anything (but is instead a cliche setting that doesn't have any of that At this point everything is cliche in some way and every story resembles another. I've stopped worrying about trying to make mine wholly unique.). I'm not saying magic won't exist, but it may manifest itself as superstition rather than actual spells.

The most interesting thing is how the story is taking on a life of it's own as I write. Plans and outlines be damned, I find as I write the plot advances in directions I never considered, as authors frequently say happens when they write.

[Kirsty Collins]

I didn't want to add a comma there but I guess I can. I'm still in the first draft phase so things will be changing. In fact I've already changed and expanded that short sample because of later events in the story.

I use all kinds of fun words like bulwarks, conscripts, ballistae, mangonels etc. too It may be a fictitious setting but war plays a large part, so I'm researching as well. It's a slow process. It's not a cliche magical setting with wizards or dwarves or anything (but is instead a cliche setting that doesn't have any of that At this point everything is cliche in some way and every story resembles another. I've stopped worrying about trying to make mine wholly unique.). I'm not saying magic won't exist, but it may manifest itself as superstition rather than actual spells.

The most interesting thing is how the story is taking on a life of it's own as I write. Plans and outlines be damned, I find as I write the plot advances in directions I never considered, as authors frequently say happens when they write.

oh, yeah, research. that is a smart idea. i never really went to research stuff, much.

It is nice to see people try something different, keep at that.

Absolutely. My fan fic never went the same way as expected or planned. yes, somewhat, but things change so rapidly and drastically sometimes that one can't help but wonder he or she is still writing the same story, or is the character that different from original plan. its imagination unleashed

[Genocidal Cry]

How odd that I see this thread the day after I finished writing this four act play for my creative writing class (since my three group mates didn't do jack [censored] other than yell ideas at me while I did all the work). There's a character- The Master- in it that speaks in rhyme for badassery, and this is the last soliloquy in the play. A little context might help. Basically, two people went to go off and kill a dinosaur that was destroying their village after being trained by The Master, but one of them (Ichbindorf) screws it up and gets the other killed. Here it's revealed that Binky the Dinosaur is The Master's son. Don't ask me how or why.

The Master- The price with your life you'll pay
On this earth you'll no longer stay
[The Master comes form behind Ichbindorf and strangles him to death with his cane]
To end a life feels not so well
but 'twas necessary to me my brain does tell
It is finished but also just beginning
I failed here and my time is slowly thinning
A nomad's life, I welcome thee back
and there I'll stay till Binky's next attack
A new hero from the wreckage shall rise
one capable of a task this size
And with a mind and blade so sharp they cut
through all hardships and through Binky's gut
To teach him I will, to train him I must
to find him I'll follow the wind's guiding gust
This I vow upon my soul to do before my life's adjourn
this I owe the world before I to dust return
Binky, the fruit of my loins, my life's ill product
my son, my terrible, destructive construct
Does naught but destroy and he will a town another
but alas, my young self did however love his mother
Foolish puppy, nay, dino love did bring me joy
but at the cost of lives of righteous hoi polloi
With this conviction I find reason to onward carry
once 'tis done, I can my shameful secrets bury
Once 'tis done, my deeds will cleave 'twixt whey and curd
akin to blood my blood has spilled; the line 'txixt good and evil blurred
[The Master looks at Ichbindorf's corpse]
The blood I spilled the whey; my son did spill, like curd, the bloods that clots
Once his own is spilled, I'll say to me, "In Pace Requiescat!"

[Ludivine Poussineau]

Spoiler

I think your story should be called “I am dreaming of Killpocalypse”. If not for any other reason(s) then for the fact(s) that: it was a droid’s “dream”; Killpocalypse is a witty word combo(minus the fact that the original greek work that we get apocalypse from simply means “removing of the veil from the view” or “unveiling”, and not “end of the world” as the meaning of it is today); the story is store house of puns most funny; the fact that the supposed main character is dead so quickly, HK taking the number one spot. Descriptive language and the clever humor, pun overload, shows a fair deal of knowledge of both world and makes smart pulling of element of both worlds together, and using them in a fitting matter(bright world here, Tattooin is the equivalent in his world), it is funny--all these make the story that much better writing for you and for us, that much better reading.

Though for all the praise, I can’t say I agree with the stuff like the straw man wetting himself, sixually pent up wizard sixily pushing buttons, and sixually obsessed tin man, HK using his “sixy Droid's Assassin Rifle” —all that could have been avoided, too much six, unless the point you want to illustrate and or benefit from is that six sells(objectively speaking, it will sell your story, or maybe even be one of the only, or if not the only, thing(s) that sell your story, even if only one or two people). Should have killed the tin man, too, I think; he is a pervert, and since all the other character were being killed off, why he gets to live? And the lion and the Selkath, aw, poor kitty, poor fish people, I like them in the game and I I like lions, I wish lion and Selkath did not had to die. :stare: <_< :down: -_-

"Mockery: Gold? What sort of idiot covers his roads in gold? When you can use gold to buy weapons?" eh, this second question mark seems out of place… or is it supposed to be there?

"Oh, you saw me! I was just trying to be preda-" unfinished line to indicate sudden death… classic, but still nice.

“Gazing into the sky, HK saw what appeared to be a flying monkey.” Are there monkeys in Star Wars? If not, I think maybe “a brownish, somewhat furry animal with annoying shrieking, a tail, wings, and four other extremities”?

"Mockery: Oh, yes, let's make everything we have out of precious jewels and metals! Ruby shoes, golden roads, emerald buildings! Why save our wealth to fund an army?" HK's servos grinded as he shook his head in disgust.”
And he is using an emerald for his temporary solution to broken “eyes”. Hm. Well, all that right there is just gold. And yes, pun is intended.

Actually, I was trying to poke fun by making all of the sixual characters odd or disturbing; my point was that six isn't always something that needs to be sold. The death of the lion was simply to speed the story along, and the death of the Selkath was from my own personal hatred of them. I left the tin man alive because I figured it would be a much more awful punishment for him, and that would be something HK would want. The second question mark was supposed to be there. And yes,http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Monkey

[Jeneene Hunte]

Actually, I was trying to poke fun by making all of the sixual characters odd or disturbing; my point was that six isn't always something that needs to be sold. The death of the lion was simply to speed the story along, and the death of the Selkath was from my own personal hatred of them. I left the tin man alive because I figured it would be a much more awful punishment for him, and that would be something HK would want. The second question mark was supposed to be there. And yes,http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Monkey

oh, well, glad someone does not think that six needs to be in art to make it good art.

poor tin man, forced to rust in his lust.

did not know Star Wars had monkeys, thank you. i guess by logical extension, i should have assumed it would, since Wookies minus the tail and all that.

[Flutterby]

Here is something I made for myself when I was about to have a mental breakdown.

"Meltdown"

Spoiler

Everything in this house turns unstable. Doors that I had shut are suddenly forced open, water pouring in quickly and beginning to flood the entire building.



The windows begin to crack as the halls are filled. All these pictures I painted, these thrones I have sat on, and the rules I have set for myself are washed away in the current. Nothing can save them from being drowned and carried out of the window, along with everything else I own.



The roof is ripped off, collapsing into the ocean below as flames spark to life. They come in contact with a fuse, and that fuse begins to die off, toward a bomb set right in the middle of this house.



The flames and the water now race each other. Will the flooding drown the bomb and engulf the rest of the house, turning it into a monument in the ocean, or will the flames burnt there way through everything on top and detonate the bomb, leaving nothing left but a crater and fire ontop water.



Perhaps the two will collide together, and kill one another off.



Maybe a drain will open on the bottom as it begins to rain, killing the fire, taking away the water.





The biggest question though... what will be left after the storm?

[GPMG]

"They spoke of prophets lost beneath sands and uncut stone. They spoke of great galleys from where termites dug their chambered halls, within the wood, within the frames, within the bones of the dreamy ships that once were. They also spoke of a son that was to come, whose milky eyes saw nothing, but understood all there was to see. They spoke of this and they spoke of more.

They spoke of blissful prayers who fell deaf on those who came to judge. They spoke of mercy, in it's sorry state, as with tear dried as dust, but not dead, not inside. They spoke of tenants who come with molten coins who bear the face and emblems of shifty men. They spoke of words that were as old as the pillars that erode each day, before the earth eats them whole. They spoke of this and they spoke of more.

They recalled the tales of making, of life being given through a breath of God. Such a breath that could sculpt a mountain or make a starts align, such a breath was wasted on us. They spoke of this and they persecuted us.

"You were dead" they screamed.
"You were dead"

But that breath that gave the sands their time and the wind its guile and the dead their life, that breath was to be shared again. A new arrangement was to be made. So they chided us, to name such fools as many as the stones that cover the borders of men and nations. We listen, for we wished to hear. They spoke of this and they spoke of more."


--------------------


The man carries the morning light with him. He greets me as a brother, but I know him not. The cold ebb of the tides wash his feet as he stand on the wet sand. His hair is Satin and so is his name.

He speaks of craftsmanship, of woodwork and boats. He loves the curves and the shape, the beauty of a sail at full wind, they seem "real" somehow to him, more "real" than anything else.

"But what would I know of this, why do you bother me which such things?" My words disappoint him. He looks more like a child now than ever he was. His stature is somehow small, his eyes are wider than I recall, his face is clear and his hands are small. Such small hands.

"Could these hands make a boat" I chide him. "They're smaller than three fingers of mine, what do you think you can do by yourself, you can not make boats, you can not set sails."

The man, the boy with satin hair tells me something I do not recall. He is too young to know what to say. His words weigh nothing more a strand of silk. If he only knew, if he only was wiser.

"You can't these things true" I cut him off. "Your hands are too small to lift, they are to small to hold or to weld or join or shape or even break.". My words made him smaller, for small he truly was. Sort as an arm an fair as a sea shell. I made these things known to him, I made him small with my words, which were a plenty. I told him to let these dreams go, to let boats make themselves, sail themselves, break themselves, but without him, without their worlds to intertwine, but left apart.

Did he listen? I do know. I know that I left him there alone, on the beach as the ebb washed his feet, as the wind blew his clothes about. As the first snow fell down on his satin hair.

[Klaire]

This thread is fun, I enjoyed reading these poems and stories

You guys should check out the fan fic forums here. I like to read some of the stuff on the Elder Scrolls one every once in a while, there are some really talented writers there.

I think I'll post one of the poems I wrote. It's basically a criticism on the way the boyfriend-girlfriend relationships lock people in a depressing cycle that they don't realize they can stop at any moment.

Spoiler

Love Lock

From the deep,
Painted in dancing lightshows.
Layers of blues, a place of repose.
From below she arose,
Splashing through the curves of her pose,
The sea, a mirror of her emotion,
Ripples of wind-blown motion,
Across her skin and the sea akin.

Endless embracing waves, grasping,
Through the tenderness of her caress.
Of nothing, she might possess.
Her form is of one in repress,
Ambrosial hands, firm in compress.
But, her heart is of aerials, swimming,
Upon the sea, skimming.
A search on the infinite watery verge.

A blind soul, this one.
Still stagnant she hangs above the surface,
Dripping a line of hope, wordless,
Droplets of memory splashing into the abyss,
Forever in search, not without purpose,
But in vain, for she seeks once more a lock,
Tied on her ankle, a cinder block.
Drift down into this warm sea and drown.

Yet, here is an unfiltered ray of sunlight,
Falling on eyelids yet to perceive,
That the sea has finally given a reprieve,
One to her fluttering heart to relieve,
But to open her eyes, she can no longer conceive.
Suspended in a freedom unseen,
In the waves, she hopes for someone in between.
Let it not be locked again, her wings of free rein.

[Jessie Butterfield]

I'm currently working on a novel (no, not a fan-fic) and I'll probably post a chapter or two if you'd like to read it.

[Maya Maya]

we need people to provide feedback, too... or maybe i just think we do.

[oliver klosoff]

I wrote a song today..I haven't finished it yet. But I'm close.

The lyrics are supposed to be in the style of story western songs like Jim Reeves, Marty Robbins, Johnny Horton, Billy Walker, etc. While the music is supposed to sound like Johnny Cash with the chuga chuga guitar and low singing notes at the end of the verses. I have no knowledge of music or writing theory so no one attack me if I do anything wrong.

Spoiler

In the summer of 88’ I left my woman for dead..
We were traveling cross the desert..I couldn’t keep her fed.
This is the tale of the girl I loved so
Yet I still went off and let her go

We stopped in a town somewhere way out West
I tried to explain to her that it was for the best
But I went off drinking...till I fell down.
Next mornin’ I saw her standin’ o’er me with a frown.

I did what I did and it can’t be undone.
I knew after that our trip wouldn’t be fun.
All she could do was yell and whine
I lied and told her everything would be fine.

I knew I had to get rid of her someday and somehow
I didn’t know whether to do it later or now.
How will I keep Johnny Law from knocking on my door?
If I shot my woman and left her on the floor.

My plans were made to kill her and throw her in a ditch
After so many years I would finally be rid of that ugly witch

So that's all I have so far. Any suggestions? Changes?