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#41
Quote by Hendrix_fan_14
You should post them in the Songwriting & Lyrics forum brah. You'll generally get pretty good advice from the regulars there.


+1; anyone who wants to post poetry/lyrics/whatever can do so in the S+L forum, that's what the forum's for. you can leave a link to your thread for people here too. oh, and make sure to read the rules, i'd be happy to ban y'all
#42
Quote by cubs
+1; anyone who wants to post poetry/lyrics/whatever can do so in the S+L forum, that's what the forum's for. you can leave a link to your thread for people here too. oh, and make sure to read the rules, i'd be happy to ban y'all


I think people should find a way to post their other forms of narration in here (short stories and such). In pdf form or something. I'd be interested in reading them and might even steal some of their ideas . Haha just kidding on the last part.
It was a graveyard smash.
#43
I've posted different snippets and pieces in many of the creative writing threads here and never received even a word of criticism, constructive or otherwise. The urge isn't there.
#44
Today a new era begins!

How about everyone posts something like 100 words of their current project? I'll start.

OK, it's 187 words, but I couldn't find anything that made sense in 100 words.

"Is it just me, or has this been weirdly easy?" Cat wondered aloud. "I mean, this General bloke hasn't shown up, nor any of his men, and there's not a zombie in sight!"

"Maybe they don't know we survived the crash?"

"Suppose. Still no answer?"

"****-all from Prince wotsit, and even less from the DHPD."

"Well, we're almost in Leeds. Maybe his radio will pick up better when we get - " Cat fell silent as they came to the top of a hill and looked out over the city of Leeds. It was mid-day, but the streets were black with the massed bodies of the undead. The wind carried the constant moans of the horde up to them, and blew aside the scattered columns of smoke rising from the city.

"You know what you said before?" Gabby whispered. Cat nodded dumbly.

"I think they're all here."

Both of them had spent well over thirty years in constant contact with the undead. Nonetheless, as they descended the hill, they shifted closer to each other, Gabby leaning heavily on Cat's shoulder, wondering why they weren't running the other way.
#46
Quote by gabcd86
Today a new era begins!

How about everyone posts something like 100 words of their current project? I'll start.

OK, it's 187 words, but I couldn't find anything that made sense in 100 words.


Would you like some constructive criticism? Tough because you're getting some.

"Is it just me, or has this been weirdly easy?" Cat wondered aloud. "I mean, this General bloke hasn't shown up, nor any of his men, and there's not a zombie in sight!" "Maybe they don't know we survived the crash?" "Suppose. Still no answer?" "****-all from Prince wotsit, and even less from the DHPD." "Well, we're almost in Leeds. Maybe his radio will pick up better when we get - " Cat fell silent as they came to the top of a hill and looked out over the city of Leeds. It was mid-day, but the streets were black with the massed bodiesof the undead. The wind carried the constant moans of the horde up to them, and blew aside the scattered columns of smoke rising from the city. "You know what you said before?" Gabby whispered. Cat nodded dumbly. "I think they're all here." Both of them had spent well over thirty years in constant contact with the undead. Nonetheless, as they descended the hill, they shifted closer to each other, Gabby leaning heavily on Cat's shoulder, wondering why they weren't running the other way.


I'll use my normal system;
Red can be cut out.
Blue is grammatically incorrect or could the language could be changed. Blue brackets is a suggested change (but I try and keep that to minimal unless it's awful, I dislike putting words in other peoples fingers.)
Green is either confusing or incoherent.

Now none of it is inconsistent or confusing, which is a good sign. Obviously it's hard to see inconsistencies in such small extracts but it's clear from the way you write that you do think about such.

The first red part (of Leeds) sounds slightly repetitious, due to you mentioning the name of the city only a short while before hand. The second red part is more subjective. Personally I feel it takes away from a sense of tension, the fact that you clarify that all the bodies are of 'undead'. Now clearly the undead are your antagonist and despite the fact it is a plural term, deeming them as the only casualty takes away from the fear and makes them appear more frail. However, this could, depending on the rest of the piece, be more of an implication of the efficiency of 'the General's' men, and so I may be wrong.

The blue part is highlighted because I felt it sounded slightly...I'm not sure. The sentence itself sounds wrong in a subtle way, breaking the flow of the piece. It may be the syntax, in which case always remember that each word you use has to expand on either the storyline or the description. However it may simply be my preferred manner of reading so I wouldn't worry about it. Try getting comments from others and this'll be clarified.

Overall though I thought it was good. The intimacy of the characters is clear and your use of dialogue is very good. Also you seem very clear in your approach to moving the plot on and the piece is very consistent in the manner of writing. Best of luck with the rest of it.

Edit: Just realised removing red2 would require changing the sentence before it to stay consistent to the syntax. Mhmm.
...Stapling helium to penguins since 1949.
Last edited by Todd Hart at Jul 6, 2010,
#47
From Disbelief. Zero (due for release in the upcoming Disbelief Press Release)


To have the choking inflammation of stale cigarette smoke, early morning vodka and fast food bacon breathed on his neck was actually incredibly welcoming for Paul. This was the smell of his closest friend, Jace, and the reason that it was on his neck was just because of the embrace that he was receiving. There was nothing quite like a Jace hug. It was tight enough to choke, close enough to choke and carried almost enough love to choke. It was nice.

They separated, and both sank into the near addictive seating by the windows in Indy’s. There was a moment during which they both sighed at the pleasure moulding around each of their arses, and then they were back to attention. They were sitting in a pub again. Since they had started at University, this was almost daily routine. Their group had neither shrunk nor grown, but that was the plan today. Just this once, the meeting had a purpose other than the inhalation of alcohol that was the usual one.



- Copyright Tom Colohue 2010
#48
Quote by Colohue
From Disbelief. Zero (due for release in the upcoming Disbelief Press Release)


To have the choking inflammation of stale cigarette smoke, early morning vodka and fast food bacon breathed on his neck was actually incredibly welcoming for Paul. This was the smell of his closest friend, Jace, and the reason that it was on his neck was just because of the embrace that he was receiving. There was nothing quite like a Jace hug. It was tight enough to choke, close enough to choke and carried almost enough love to choke. It was nice.

They separated, and both sank into the near addictive seating by the windows in Indy’s. There was a moment during which they both sighed at the pleasure moulding around each of their arses, and then they were back to attention. They were sitting in a pub again. Since they had started at University, this was almost daily routine. Their group had neither shrunk nor grown, but that was the plan today. Just this once, the meeting had a purpose other than the inhalation of alcohol that was the usual one.



- Copyright Tom Colohue 2010


Eek. I don't know if I dare attempt to pull apart Colohue's work. Oh well I'll give it a go.

First off, you're work is akin to wiping your arse with silk, and I mean that in a good way. There's something quite raw and yet poetic about it. Overall I like the piece, only two things really struck me. First off was the 'It was nice.' ending to the first paragraph. It seemed very flat and cold in contrast to the figurative piece that it followed. Whether this juxtaposition was intentional I'm not sure, it just seemed like an out of place way to end a description. However as I said to gabcd86, it may just be that it doesn't fit my preferred style. Second was the final sentence of the second paragraph. The part 'that was the usual one.' sounded again, peculiar. The syntax sounds quite confused, although I'm unsure how to correct it.

Overall a very visceral and raw account that definitely poses questions and leads the narrative on in a very precise and measured way.

Here follows the start of one of my short, poetic stories.

The soft trickle of glacial water tickled and caressed the soles of her feet, weaving through her toes and forming delicate whirlpools as they left. She gently edged forward on the modest jetty and chased the minnows with her shadow, her hand guiding them from two feet above. The shoal gently flickered in the fading light, her face shining with them. The sky was alight with a similar spectacle, the aurora dancing through the thin clouds and illuminating the icy peaks to her right. However, she was contented, her troupe of dancers shimmering in their untidy cohesion.
...Stapling helium to penguins since 1949.
Last edited by Todd Hart at Jul 6, 2010,
#49
ive been writing a book actually. Wrote a few pages and contacted my sisters friend who works at a publising company. She was pretty amazed.
Very Kurt Vonnegut like. but obviously not as geniuslike
Gibson RawPower SG 2009 (Zales)
Gibson Hummingbird 70's? (Amy)
Jet City JCA 20 Watt Combo
Dunlop Crybaby wah
MXR 10 Band EQ
Ibanez TS-9
#50
I love writing!

I'm en editor for my college's magazine. We're generally required to submit an article or two ourselves, so it's quite fun.
#51
It seems I've found the thread for me!

I've never participated in a UG flashfic competition (although I meant to write something for the first one).

Anyways, as my title and avatar would suggest, I'm a poet. I also do some human interest writing (I write for my school newspaper and yearbook, and I'm hoping to land a junior writer's gig with a local newspaper). I'd like to write a book one day, but I have no idea what it would be about. I've been playing with the notion of a children's book. I think my poetry skillz could be put to good use in writing a children's book.

I've considered a career in journalism, and while I'm certain that I'd be good at it, more recently the idea of being a language teacher has appealed to me greatly. I'd either be a Spanish teacher here in the States or an English teacher in a Spanish-speaking country (most preferably Argentina). If I became a teacher I could definitely still write on the side.

EDIT:

Quote by PeZ546
Ok, let's get some discussion going or something....

Has anyone ever attempted Automatic Writing? (Also known as Free Writing or Surrealist Automatism) For those of you who don't know, It's when you write whatever comes into your head without looking at what you're doing.

I tried to write a play using it once, but it turned out fucking weird so I binned it.


This is also known as flow-of-consciousness writing, and it can be very fun! I've actually done a couple of poems using flow-of-consciousness.
He's a freak of nature, but we love him so.

Quote by John Frusciante
Music isn't the Olympics. It's not about showing other people what you can do with a piece of wood in your hands that has strings on, it's about making sounds that are good.
Last edited by Spartan070sarge at Jul 6, 2010,
#52
Quote by Todd Hart
The soft trickle of glacial water tickled and caressed the soles of her feet, weaving through her toes and forming delicate whirlpools as they left. She gently edged forward on the modest jetty and chased the minnows with her shadow - her hand guiding them from two feet above. The shoal gently flickered in the fading light, her face shining with them. The sky was alight with a similar spectacle, the aurora dancing through the thin clouds and illuminating the icy peaks to her right. However, she was contented, her troupe of dancers shimmering in their untidy cohesion.


'Tickled' is too close to 'trickled', both in the word itself and the proximity of it. It draws the eye back because it made me second guess what I'd read.

Tickling and caressing are near opposite actions. The first immediately negates the other and both cause opposite reactions.

Seriously? Whirlpools between her toes? I'm either misreading this or things just got a bit fantasy.

'Shoal' is singular if I'm not mistaken. 'Them' is plural.

Her face is shining due to fading light? Wait, the sky is still alight despite the aforementioned fading light? I'm confused again.

Why wouldn't she be content? 'However' is akin to saying 'Despite' or 'In Spite Of'. She has no reason not to be content.

To be 'Contented' requires something to be contented by, but you've followed it with a statement of description that is not personal to the character being described.

How are people shimmering? Am I reading Twilight here? That would be a dirty trick.

'Untidy' and 'Cohesion' is oxymoronic, but I trust that it's intentional.

Stylistically, most of your sentences are formed with almost exactly the same structure. You're describing something miraculous using a mundane flow. I also feel that there's too much additional description for the sore lack of actual description. If, for example, you were reviewing a painting, it's like you've reviewed the bottom-right ninth only. You need an overarcing central focus in order to maintain reader interest.



There you go. I'm fairly harsh in order to provide as much constructive material as possible, but it's all my opinion, so use it as you will. Thanks for your critique; you highlighted the one area I was unsure about, and spotted the deliberate character input on the writing. (The style of Disbelief does this in subtle ways, for example, I write from the perspective of characters who sometimes get annoyed with Ed, who doesn't speak, and this comes across in certain tensions in the writing rather than the actual interaction).

Also, if I can just inquire as to why you'd be loath to offer your input on my work. What's so special about me? I'm just glad to know that somebody read it, let alone took the time to offer me their opinions, so thank you.
#53
There you go. I'm fairly harsh in order to provide as much constructive material as possible, but it's all my opinion, so use it as you will. Thanks for your critique; you highlighted the one area I was unsure about, and spotted the deliberate character input on the writing. (The style of Disbelief does this in subtle ways, for example, I write from the perspective of characters who sometimes get annoyed with Ed, who doesn't speak, and this comes across in certain tensions in the writing rather than the actual interaction).

Also, if I can just inquire as to why you'd be loath to offer your input on my work. What's so special about me? I'm just glad to know that somebody read it, let alone took the time to offer me their opinions, so thank you.


Thanks for the critique. And don't worry about being harsh, I'm really uncertain about this piece anyway, you highlighted a few things I was unsure about myself. I don't like doing requests (which is what that piece is part of), especially around a fantasy style theme so any input into how to improve it is greatly appreciated.

Oh and - 'How are people shimmering? Am I reading Twilight here? That would be a dirty trick.' The 'troupe of dancers' is a reference to the minnows, which now I look at it isn't clear. And sadly the request is from somebody who is quite an avid fan of Twilight...I'm slightly ashamed to have captured that style in trying to pursue something similar. This fluffy happy writing is more depressing than writing about more gritty circumstances.

And it's not that I loathe to offer input, I just generally dislike pulling apart work that I've previously read and enjoyed (luckily the piece you posted I hadn't already read). I find a certain something is lost when you pull apart a piece in a very objective way.
...Stapling helium to penguins since 1949.
#54
Quote by Todd Hart
Thanks for the critique. And don't worry about being harsh, I'm really uncertain about this piece anyway, you highlighted a few things I was unsure about myself. I don't like doing requests (which is what that piece is part of), especially around a fantasy style theme so any input into how to improve it is greatly appreciated.

Oh and - 'How are people shimmering? Am I reading Twilight here? That would be a dirty trick.' The 'troupe of dancers' is a reference to the minnows, which now I look at it isn't clear. And sadly the request is from somebody who is quite an avid fan of Twilight...I'm slightly ashamed to have captured that style in trying to pursue something similar. This fluffy happy writing is more depressing than writing about more gritty circumstances.

And it's not that I loathe to offer input, I just generally dislike pulling apart work that I've previously read and enjoyed (luckily the piece you posted I hadn't already read). I find a certain something is lost when you pull apart a piece in a very objective way.



Then write in different styles for practice, but stick to your strengths. I spend hours every week just writing out descriptions for places in my fictional fantasy world just to make sure that I can still do it.

Also, I'm surprised you've read my stuff. Didn't think many people had.
#55
Quote by PeZ546
I currently have ideas floating around in my head for about three or four novels, several short stories, and one TV screenplay, yet I can't bring myself to commit any of it to ink!



Why not? Try writing the short stories first, they're a bit less intimidating to start.
Is it still a God Complex if I really am God?

America is the only country that went from barbarism to decadence without civilization in between.
Oscar Wilde
#56
Quote by Colohue
Then write in different styles for practice, but stick to your strengths. I spend hours every week just writing out descriptions for places in my fictional fantasy world just to make sure that I can still do it.

Also, I'm surprised you've read my stuff. Didn't think many people had.


I do. Thank you for the advice. I have 10 weeks off so I'm hoping to be able to write a fair bit.

And with regards to your work, I read through Lute a while back, up to about part 7 I think, but I believe that was the time when my internet was cancelled for a few months, and I never went back to it. I shall have to re-read it some time.

One thing I've noticed is that I find it far more enjoyable to write with an actual pencil and paper, than type it down on a computer. Does anybody else do something similar?
...Stapling helium to penguins since 1949.
Last edited by Todd Hart at Jul 6, 2010,
#57
Yay, writing.

I've been known to write about black metal bands every now and then
Quote by justinb904
im more of a social godzilla than chameleon

Quote by MetalMessiah665
Alright, I'll give them a try, Japanese Black Speed rarely disappoints.

Quote by azzemojo
Hmm judging from your pic you'd fit in more with a fat busted tribute.
#58
Quote by Todd Hart
I do. Thank you for the advice. I have 10 weeks off so I'm hoping to be able to write a fair bit.

And with regards to your work, I read through Lute a while back, up to about part 7 I think, but I believe that was the time when my internet was cancelled for a few months, and I never went back to it. I shall have to re-read it some time.

One thing I've noticed is that I find it far more enjoyable to write with an actual pencil and paper, than type it down on a computer. Does anybody else do something similar?


I'm the same, but for the sake of speed I tend to write on the computer.

Pssh. Lute is crap. Read Disbelief. Part Thirty or Life and Times (Hugh Gee 1)
#59
Quote by Colohue
I'm the same, but for the sake of speed I tend to write on the computer.

Pssh. Lute is crap. Read Disbelief. Part Thirty or Life and Times (Hugh Gee 1)


Haha. Okay, I'll check them out when my computer isn't being quite so temperamental. I hate broken reading.
...Stapling helium to penguins since 1949.
#61
Quote by The Contagen
Nobody read mine.


I completely missed it, apologies.

Quote by The Contagen
Are we allowed to post stories here? If so, I will....


Dear Dearest,


Reminisce with me. Do you remember when I asked of you to accompany me through those fields, those dream-like, mesmerizing fields? I was positive that you would deny my inquisition. I have a very shy personality about me, and I never did get along with anybody very well. I attribute this to the harsh ways I was treated by others. Growing up, I was antagonized by my peers for my appearance, actions, beliefs, and ethnicity. My parents were of no guidance either. They were divorced by the time my mother’s nine months were up. This feeling of melancholy and loneliness has led me to do some terrible things that I regret. (No expansion?)

I was awestruck. You accepted. Was this really happening? Never before had I had this feeling. Had I unlocked the door to some parallel universe where everything I knew and believed to be fact was upended? I ponder everyday in this chamber why you chose me, wishing you hadn’t.

Did I come off as agitated for the duration of our stroll? I certainly was. I couldn’t help but gaze aimlessly into your sapphire-blue eyes, paying little attention to what your mouth was trying to convey to me. You were a beautiful sight to behold. I still remember the exquisite dress you wore that day, the high-heels (You pick silly girls if they wear high-heels whilst strolling through fields) you adorned yourself with, and of course your dark hair that seemed like it could stretch down your back for miles. (When referring to a physical feature, a metaphor may be better than a simile. State that the hair stretches down her back, rather than saying it seems like it does. It sounds more positive and vivid. Also, stretches sounds quite ugly when referring to hair, would flows or something similar not work better? It was cold out that day. You must have felt as a glacier does. Do you recall when I held you in my arms to warm your body and soul?

Silly me.

Of course you don’t.

I remember how you told me about your previous relationships. How he used to beat you like a dog. None of that mattered when you and I were together in that blessed, cursed (I see exactly what you're trying to achieve with this, but the mix sounds peculiar.) field. But I was not satisfied. You deserved more. A grand gift for my love!

I didn’t even notice your mouth agape from what I had to show you. What was usually even, flatland had merged into a mountain of maroon-shaded dolls, their shape not much different than you and me. Then the tears that seeped from your eyelids (Again, this girl is odd, she cries from her eyelids?), like raindrops from the heavens. You were so happy, as was I. When you pushed me away and ran, screaming as loud as your vocal cords would let up, and I chased you, taking in every moment we shared as you bellowed out for help, I was sure that we were meant to be. I caught you, and to this day still wonder why you scurried, who you were calling out to. Remember how I shoved you down and ripped off your garments, how I struck you with all of my force? You and I truly shared a special moment together.

Perhaps you and I could continue this relationship. Where are you living now? I’ve heard by word of mouth that you are dwelling in a hard to reach place


With all the love in my heart,

[ILLEGIBLE]


This is a bit old, I'm not sure if I'm pleased with it now, but I was at the time. Critique?



Belated critique;

Red can be cut out.
Blue is grammatically incorrect or could the language could be changed. Blue brackets is a suggested change (but I try and keep that to minimal unless it's awful, I dislike putting words in other peoples fingers.)
Green is either confusing or incoherent.

Red1: Too many 'had's. The word doesn't lend itself to repetition as it adds little to the meaning.
Green1: You claim to have found an entire universe, and yet you find yourself in a chamber? The juxtaposition has potential but the contrast is too great and with no transition.

I thought the piece was good, I really didn't expect such a sinister ending. The way you manipulated the narrative was good, however the choice of words was slightly, peculiar at times. I loved the grittiness of it though, although the last paragraph lacked in emotion I felt, and could have included much more passion and anger. Overall it was good and original.
...Stapling helium to penguins since 1949.
Last edited by Todd Hart at Jul 6, 2010,
#62
Quote by Todd Hart
Would you like some constructive criticism? Tough because you're getting some.


Oh, I'm totally down with that.


The first red part (of Leeds) sounds slightly repetitious, due to you mentioning the name of the city only a short while before hand.


Sounds reasonable.

The second red part is more subjective. Personally I feel it takes away from a sense of tension, the fact that you clarify that all the bodies are of 'undead'. Now clearly the undead are your antagonist and despite the fact it is a plural term, deeming them as the only casualty takes away from the fear and makes them appear more frail. However, this could, depending on the rest of the piece, be more of an implication of the efficiency of 'the General's' men, and so I may be wrong.


I can see what you're getting at here. Looking at this extract, I do mention they're undead in the blue bit, so the exposition is there. Y'see, when I post this, it'll be online, and I've got three or four short flashes around this size, that will be posted once a day, followed by the first chapter. This is the last one, and previously, there have been no zombies. Although it has to be said, I'm not sure zombies carry any fear for my audience anymore. The main threat in this is really the sheer amount of them. I'll mull it over.


The blue part is highlighted because I felt it sounded slightly...I'm not sure. The sentence itself sounds wrong in a subtle way, breaking the flow of the piece. It may be the syntax, in which case always remember that each word you use has to expand on either the storyline or the description. However it may simply be my preferred manner of reading so I wouldn't worry about it.


I do actually seem to recall it causing me trouble at the time. One of those things that doesn't seem to want to write, y'know? So it may well have been my subconscious warning me off it.

Try getting comments from others and this'll be clarified.

Overall though I thought it was good. The intimacy of the characters is clear and your use of dialogue is very good. Also you seem very clear in your approach to moving the plot on and the piece is very consistent in the manner of writing. Best of luck with the rest of it.

Edit: Just realised removing red2 would require changing the sentence before it to stay consistent to the syntax. Mhmm.


Ta muchly. It's currently stagnated at around 7000 words, but I'm hoping to break through the next chapter or so, at which point it's fairly clear in my mind.
#63
Oh, we're posting stuff now? I can dig it...

Here's the last thing I wrote; a slightly longer version of my latest flash fic entry.

Criticism is greatly appreciated.


When I was young I was always in the garden, out playing amongst the green trees and shrubs and coloured flowers, living my days with careless abandon. Most of the time I spent with my two best friends; Sammy the Squirrel and Turley-pot the Turtle. Yes, they were imaginary, as everyone become so eager to point out, but they seemed real enough to me. I loved the days we three spent in the garden, laughing, playing and adventuring, they seem so long ago now.

There was another who lived in the garden whom I did not like so much, I called him the Grey Man.

I cannot remember how old I was when I first caught sight of the Grey Man, only that those first glimpses were but fleeting. Nothing more than quick movements in the corner of my vision, or a pair of eyes staring out at me from behind the thick ivy bushes. I remember the day I first saw him in full. I was sat reading on the lawn when I felt compelled to look up, and when I did so there he was, standing right there in front of me, yet at the same time not there at all. For the first time in my life, I was speechless. My usual cheerful and outgoing manner dissipated, replaced by a distinct sense of confusion and unease. All I could do was watch him, as he stood there completely monochrome against the vivid greenery. As I watched, his long, sullen face began to turn to a smirk which quickly became a wide grin. The next thing I knew, the Grey Man was laughing loudly, laughing at me. I quickly became unnerved and turned away, trying to ignore him, but he did not stop.

Over time, this would become a routine. I would go out to play in the garden, the Grey Man would appear from behind the ivy and laugh at me until, despite my efforts to ignore him or make him stop, I was forced to retreat inside. At nights he would grow bold and come creeping across the lawn, up to my bedroom window where he would tap loudly on the glass for hours, and I would lay in the dark wishing that he would leave me alone.

I tried my hardest to avoid him, but everywhere I went in the garden, he would turn up. I became paranoid that he might start appearing indoors, or that I would wake up one night and find him looming over my bed. He was slowly driving me insane.

One day I went out into the garden and called for Sammy and Turley, but there was no response from either of them. I looked everywhere I could think of but they were nowhere to be found, then I heard laughter. I turned towards the ivy and, sure enough, the Grey Man was standing there. Only this time, to my horror, I saw that there was blood on his hands and bits of fur and entrails all around him. He was laughing harder than ever.

“What have you done!?” I screamed at him, but he carried on laughing. That was when I finally snapped. With tears streaming from my eyes I ran and fetched a cannister of petrol and some matches from the garage. I poured the entire cannister over the ivy bushes and then stepped back. “This will show you! This will show you!” I shouted at nobody. Then I struck a match.

Afterwards all the grown ups would gather around me and ask me to explain why I burned my garden and almost my house down, and I would tell them that the Grey Man made me do it, then they would murmur anxiously to one another.

Nowadays, they tell me that it was all in my head, that there never was a Grey Man. I guess my only choice is to believe them, after all, I was only a child, and it was so long ago. How could any of it have been real? And yet I still shiver uncomfortably whenever I hear laughter or a tap at my window in the dead of night.
#64
I just finished the first chapter of my novella =]
It's a challenge for me; so far all my stories have been really short. Anything over 1000 words was rare. This chapter is like, 1500 words. And I'm pretty happy with it.
I'm not posting it anywhere until I'm finished, because I'm sick of posting unfinished stuff and never finishing it. But I'll keep you updated.
#65
Quote by PeZ546
Oh, we're posting stuff now? I can dig it...

Here's the last thing I wrote; a slightly longer version of my latest flash fic entry.

Criticism is greatly appreciated.


That's way too long to engage the interest of somebody who posts in the Pit.

Give us a snippet.
#66
Ok then, here's a more manageable chunk:


I cannot remember how old I was when I first caught sight of the Grey Man, only that those first glimpses were but fleeting. Nothing more than quick movements in the corner of my vision, or a pair of eyes staring out at me from behind the thick ivy bushes. I remember the day I first saw him in full. I was sat reading on the lawn when I felt compelled to look up, and when I did so there he was, standing right there in front of me, yet at the same time not there at all. For the first time in my life, I was speechless. My usual cheerful and outgoing manner dissipated, replaced by a distinct sense of confusion and unease. All I could do was watch him, as he stood there completely monochrome against the vivid greenery. As I watched, his long, sullen face began to turn to a smirk which quickly became a wide grin. The next thing I knew, the Grey Man was laughing loudly, laughing at me. I quickly became unnerved and turned away, trying to ignore him, but he did not stop.

Over time, this would become a routine. I would go out to play in the garden, the Grey Man would appear from behind the ivy and laugh at me until, despite my efforts to ignore him or make him stop, I was forced to retreat inside. At nights he would grow bold and come creeping across the lawn, up to my bedroom window where he would tap loudly on the glass for hours, and I would lay in the dark wishing that he would leave me alone.
#67
Quote by PeZ546
Oh, we're posting stuff now? I can dig it...

Here's the last thing I wrote; a slightly longer version of my latest flash fic entry.

Criticism is greatly appreciated.


I actually read it all. I'm not very good at critiquing other work. I either like it or I don't. I liked yours. It wasn't the most original idea but I'm sure you didn't think it was either. It was good enough to keep me reading to the end.

I noticed you used the wrong tense of some words but I can tell it's from lack of proofreading and not from a lack of skill.
It was a graveyard smash.
#68
Quote by C. Limon
I actually read it all. I'm not very good at critiquing other work. I either like it or I don't. I liked yours. It wasn't the most original idea but I'm sure you didn't think it was either. It was good enough to keep me reading to the end.

I noticed you used the wrong tense of some words but I can tell it's from lack of proofreading and not from a lack of skill.



Really? You must have a keener eye for detail than I do, 'cause I can't see that anywhere.
#69
I really really want to be a writer...what's with the skill you guys have? did you always have it?

Quote by Karl Pilkington
Jellyfish are 97% water or something, so how much are they doing? Just give them another 3% and make them water. It's more useful."
#70
Wazzup, bitches!

I've been having lots of trouble writing stories for quite some time, and I don't really know why. It's frustrating. They just don't turn out the way I want them to anymore. So I've been focusing mainly on poetry lately.

Also, I gots some stories and whatnot posted online at http://fearofsinking.blogspot.com/. Check it out if you want.
kill all humans
#71
Quote by Jiggzy.UK
I really really want to be a writer...what's with the skill you guys have? did you always have it?


I wouldn't say I have any real skill with writing. Most of my stuff is rubbish, it's not often I'm satisfied with my work.

I think one of the most important and easily forgotten aspects of writing, is reading. Reading new books, of different genre, time period and style expands your language and techniques so much. Also, don't just read a piece and take in the story, analyse how they have achieved the emotions and meaning. Do they use semantics (literal meanings) or pragmatics (implied meaning) to craft the storyline and emotions of the text. Look at how dialogue is used, how punctuation is used to alter the meaning of a piece.

Also, I find when writing a full story (I'm working on a novella at the moment), you must have some kind of plan, even if it's just in your head of where each page will lead. Each word must have meaning and each page much continue the story in your desired direction. Also, don't be afraid to take risks in your writing. You mistakes will improve your writing far more than your successes (so long as you recieve effective critique). And most of all, write about what you love. Don't write in a form or genre if you loathe it. Whilst it is interesting to explore other forms, and should be done especially in your reading, constantly writing in a form you can't abide will simply lead to distaste towards writing itself. Writing is akin to music in that it is a way to express emotion, and that every emotion you feel will show in your writing. Don't ruin your work by hating it.
...Stapling helium to penguins since 1949.
#72
I can't write for shit anymore. As a consolation, I wrote a decent chunk of lyrics today.
#73
Hey guys, any chance I can get some crit? songwriting is my main thing but recently I've been having vivid dreams and I've started to jot them down.


Night Visions

- by Michael O'Neil


She stood like some strange apparition. Some sort of creature talked about in folklore or drawn upon the walls of pyramids in Ancient Egypt. Aphrodite herself but with a cool, nonchalant stare as if to say "I know you, I know time and I know all the Earths' hidden secrets."


I observed my surroundings and came to the conclusion immediately that this was all a dream. A kind of real-time fantasy were I could control my own reality. Thats when you know your dreaming. When you think you've got control over anything.


Despite her casual glance I knew that we had been close. Perhaps friends at some time or maybe even lovers. As I thought about people I knew, I watched her changing into them. Her skin literally moving and contorting itself to fit perfectly with my own descripted thoughts. My own point of view.


Eventually, as I approached her (taking five steps) I felt completely worn. The steps themselves feeling like a century of walking in a cold, harsh desert with only your own thoughts to keep you company.


I reached out with my hand, which was suprisingly steady and ran my fingertips through her hair. Hair etched with the blackest ink. I turned my hand and noticed that it to had become shaded, as if I'd smudged her on some devine artists canvas. Still, her gaze never changed as she motioned me to come closer. I leaned in gently. I no longer had control.


"You keep finding new ways to get away from me Oscar" she whispered as her very being melted infront of me and evaporated into the sky. Like rainfall in reverse. I woke up bewildered with only one question on my mind.


"Why did she say Oscar?" I thought.


-by Michael O'Neil (registered copyright 2010)
#74
I like it, but I'd cut the second paragraph - it's unecessary and breaks the flow. Aside from that, .
#75
Quote by Todd Hart
I wouldn't say I have any real skill with writing. Most of my stuff is rubbish, it's not often I'm satisfied with my work.

I think one of the most important and easily forgotten aspects of writing, is reading. Reading new books, of different genre, time period and style expands your language and techniques so much. Also, don't just read a piece and take in the story, analyse how they have achieved the emotions and meaning. Do they use semantics (literal meanings) or pragmatics (implied meaning) to craft the storyline and emotions of the text. Look at how dialogue is used, how punctuation is used to alter the meaning of a piece.

Also, I find when writing a full story (I'm working on a novella at the moment), you must have some kind of plan, even if it's just in your head of where each page will lead. Each word must have meaning and each page much continue the story in your desired direction. Also, don't be afraid to take risks in your writing. You mistakes will improve your writing far more than your successes (so long as you recieve effective critique). And most of all, write about what you love. Don't write in a form or genre if you loathe it. Whilst it is interesting to explore other forms, and should be done especially in your reading, constantly writing in a form you can't abide will simply lead to distaste towards writing itself. Writing is akin to music in that it is a way to express emotion, and that every emotion you feel will show in your writing. Don't ruin your work by hating it.



Right. Well I'm off to do some writing, then. Although I doubt i'll have the guts to post.

Quote by Karl Pilkington
Jellyfish are 97% water or something, so how much are they doing? Just give them another 3% and make them water. It's more useful."
#76
Okay, I was going to critique some work but this laptop screen is making reading a pain in the arse. I'll critique all those that I haven't tomorrow. If I miss any then don't be afraid to pm me or ask in this thread.

I have nothing better to do than crititique work...
...Stapling helium to penguins since 1949.
#79
Jesus.

I'm lucky if I write that in a month. I probably used to, but I would be surprised if I had written that much all year. ****in' writer's block.

Do you write full-time, at least?
#80
Quote by PeZ546
Really? You must have a keener eye for detail than I do, 'cause I can't see that anywhere.


"Yes, they were imaginary, as everyone become so eager to point out, but they seemed real enough to me."

Found in the first paragraph. I may be mistaken but shouldn't it be "had become" or "became," seeing how he uses "became" throughout the rest of the story and since the story is written as if the narrator were reflecting.
It was a graveyard smash.