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NeoGAF Creative Writing Challenge #35 - "Deception"
- Thread starter ronito
- Start date
- Status
"Come on, Jack. You're stuff is absolutely brilliant. There's no reason at all for you to be modest. It's almost like you're some sort of photography virtuoso. Seriously, I'm not even sure how you caught that paint flying off that Frisbee so clearly, especially considering you only captured one frame."
Green: 8:49 - September 1954 - House in the Suburbs
"Jack, that piece you performed was astounding. Where did you get the idea for it? I've never heard such a sorrowful song using major chords."
Red: 6:23 - June 2006 - The Indianapolis Colts
Mr. Ashmiller, your report on the conditions of the homeless in Marion County has really opened up my eyes. Thanks to your article, I have decided to donate $500,000 to build several small shelters throughout the county.
Black: 5:17 - November 2005 - Thanksgiving food
Heh, what do they know? Nothing, that's what. What's the point in bestowing false praise upon me? Hell if I know. They must have thought there was something in it though.
Blue: 7:54 - April 1999 - A Jester
Oh well, there's no point in trying to guess the mindset of fools. I suppose that's why I'm here and they're all out there, trying to live measly lives within society's guidelines. Oh well, you can't help everybody. Then again, they certainly tried to "help" me.
August 12, 2008
I walk into my own house to find about a dozen or so people sitting around my fireplace. Brother, Sister, and Grandmother are all sitting there, anxiously awaiting my arrival. It looks like some kind of intervention. Richard gets up from his seat and tries to guide me over to a chair of mine that is set up in the middle. Grabs my elbow and starts talking.
"Look, Jack, you've got a seriously problem. We're here to help you get out of this phase you're in. It's sad seeing such a handsome and lively man such as yourself come home from work and do nothing but sit in your rocking chair and waste away. It wouldn't be so bad if you had a hobby or something, but you don't. You just sit there."
He pulls me over to that exact chair and sits me down in it.
"You've gotta be kidding me. How do you know what I do here at the house? You have no idea how I spend my time."
Alice decides to put a few words into the pot.
"We know exactly what you do. The proof is strewn all about the house. The walls are covered in nothing but clocks and calendars. When we came in here today, every one of these chairs were facing a wall or corner."
She walks over to the closest wall and rips down a calendar from 1975 containing pictures of furniture sets.
"WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
I run forward and try to smack her, but Rich steps in and stops me. Grandma Marge has something to say as well.
"Jack! How dare you?"
I run out of the room, tired of their crap.
September 9th, 2009
Grandfather: 1:12 - December 2004 - A Snowman
Oh well, I was fired from that job. Just stop showing up one day. There really wasn't a point. Now I have more time to spend doing what I like. Of course, I had to move out of the old house. I'm living with an old lady now. She has no idea that anyone is living in her attic. She's actually pretty forgetful. Sometimes, she'll make something like a batch of cookies or a sandwich and just leave it out. She never comes back in for it, so I sneak down there to grab it so it doesn't attract mice or roaches. That's how I get my meals. I suppose we've got a symbiotic relationship.
Orange: 9:45 - June 2009 - A family playing in the park
I look around and see nothing but clocks (mostly digital), calendars, and surge protectors. No lights except for the LEDs on the digital clocks. Dozens of colors. I can see the pictures on the calendars with that light. All of the clocks are set to different times; the calendars are from at least fifty different years. I don't know what the date or time is. Don't care. I plan on sitting in this rocking chair and waiting. Waiting for death to come.
______________________________________________________________________________
Well, I had an idea and I think I just ruined it with terrible execution. Then again, something felt right as I was typing it. I might just replace it or edit it completely, but this is what I have for now.
Green: 8:49 - September 1954 - House in the Suburbs
"Jack, that piece you performed was astounding. Where did you get the idea for it? I've never heard such a sorrowful song using major chords."
Red: 6:23 - June 2006 - The Indianapolis Colts
Mr. Ashmiller, your report on the conditions of the homeless in Marion County has really opened up my eyes. Thanks to your article, I have decided to donate $500,000 to build several small shelters throughout the county.
Black: 5:17 - November 2005 - Thanksgiving food
Heh, what do they know? Nothing, that's what. What's the point in bestowing false praise upon me? Hell if I know. They must have thought there was something in it though.
Blue: 7:54 - April 1999 - A Jester
Oh well, there's no point in trying to guess the mindset of fools. I suppose that's why I'm here and they're all out there, trying to live measly lives within society's guidelines. Oh well, you can't help everybody. Then again, they certainly tried to "help" me.
August 12, 2008
I walk into my own house to find about a dozen or so people sitting around my fireplace. Brother, Sister, and Grandmother are all sitting there, anxiously awaiting my arrival. It looks like some kind of intervention. Richard gets up from his seat and tries to guide me over to a chair of mine that is set up in the middle. Grabs my elbow and starts talking.
"Look, Jack, you've got a seriously problem. We're here to help you get out of this phase you're in. It's sad seeing such a handsome and lively man such as yourself come home from work and do nothing but sit in your rocking chair and waste away. It wouldn't be so bad if you had a hobby or something, but you don't. You just sit there."
He pulls me over to that exact chair and sits me down in it.
"You've gotta be kidding me. How do you know what I do here at the house? You have no idea how I spend my time."
Alice decides to put a few words into the pot.
"We know exactly what you do. The proof is strewn all about the house. The walls are covered in nothing but clocks and calendars. When we came in here today, every one of these chairs were facing a wall or corner."
She walks over to the closest wall and rips down a calendar from 1975 containing pictures of furniture sets.
"WHAT IN THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"
I run forward and try to smack her, but Rich steps in and stops me. Grandma Marge has something to say as well.
"Jack! How dare you?"
I run out of the room, tired of their crap.
September 9th, 2009
Grandfather: 1:12 - December 2004 - A Snowman
Oh well, I was fired from that job. Just stop showing up one day. There really wasn't a point. Now I have more time to spend doing what I like. Of course, I had to move out of the old house. I'm living with an old lady now. She has no idea that anyone is living in her attic. She's actually pretty forgetful. Sometimes, she'll make something like a batch of cookies or a sandwich and just leave it out. She never comes back in for it, so I sneak down there to grab it so it doesn't attract mice or roaches. That's how I get my meals. I suppose we've got a symbiotic relationship.
Orange: 9:45 - June 2009 - A family playing in the park
I look around and see nothing but clocks (mostly digital), calendars, and surge protectors. No lights except for the LEDs on the digital clocks. Dozens of colors. I can see the pictures on the calendars with that light. All of the clocks are set to different times; the calendars are from at least fifty different years. I don't know what the date or time is. Don't care. I plan on sitting in this rocking chair and waiting. Waiting for death to come.
______________________________________________________________________________
Well, I had an idea and I think I just ruined it with terrible execution. Then again, something felt right as I was typing it. I might just replace it or edit it completely, but this is what I have for now.
Mike Works
Member
really enjoyed the story, aaron. only complain is the cliche giant monolithic building in the center of the city.
Cyan said:
I find a lot of times, the less thought you put into your expressions, the more substantial they become. Check out associative writing and stream of consciousness poetry (there's a definite name for the movement that eludes me at the moment).
Psychoanalysis thrives off free-form expression.
In other news: Reading Moby Dick for the first time... holy shit!.
-Scribblenaut
Nah, not yet. I'm only on chapter 3.
Seriously though, you need to get on that. Melville's descriptive prowess in this story is nuts. Only story I read from him previously was Bartleby, and while it inspired me, it inspired me only on an interpretive level. Moby Dick is what happens when a writer writes for the sake of writing.
Thoreau and Emerson are my current favorite writers, but Melville be vying for pole position, here.
-Kimo
Seriously though, you need to get on that. Melville's descriptive prowess in this story is nuts. Only story I read from him previously was Bartleby, and while it inspired me, it inspired me only on an interpretive level. Moby Dick is what happens when a writer writes for the sake of writing.
Thoreau and Emerson are my current favorite writers, but Melville be vying for pole position, here.
-Kimo
I've tried stream of consciousness, but the feeling of not being in control bugs me too much. It's weird, because I have no problem doing improv in front of a bunch of people. Love it, in fact.Kimosabae said:
Anyway, I'm mainly just curious about whether Aaron thinks this stuff all out in detail, whether it sort of springs to mind fully formed, or if he just starts writing without a detailed plan and figures it'll fill itself in.
Nice.Timedog said:
Once you start to respect your own thoughts, your idea of "being in control" may change.
*edit*
That unintentionally came across as pedantic -- I'm just commenting from experience, because I had this problem until recently. A lot of what I write is stream of consciousness, and it wasn't until I started to properly respect what I was typing, that I started to truly develop according to my own tastes.
Check freestyle rap. Another, more mainstream example.
-Kimo
*edit*
That unintentionally came across as pedantic -- I'm just commenting from experience, because I had this problem until recently. A lot of what I write is stream of consciousness, and it wasn't until I started to properly respect what I was typing, that I started to truly develop according to my own tastes.
Check freestyle rap. Another, more mainstream example.
-Kimo
Yeah, practically straight out of Half-life 2. Probably would have been better making the facility all underground, but it removes the intimidation factor that's intended of it. Its why I mention it only briefly.Mike Works said:
The concept of Central Authority and the spiders is like ten years old. Something from a screenplay I wrote in college, actually. The conspiracy itself is an idea I originally had for the last challenge, so it's had time to bounce around the back of my head. It's strung mostly out of logic, that the only way to defeat something that listens to every word is to never make a sound that matters. Then I ponder how to introduce that concept, and it snowballs from there.Cyan said:
I tend to start writing with a half formed concept, and develop it through the writing and through thinking about what I've put together when I'm not writing. I base a lot on what I feel is logical but unexpected for the situation at hand. Sometimes you hit spots where every possible path has been covered before, so I do my best to make that interesting. I find my worst writing actually is when I plan too much in advance.
I generally just come up with stuff as I'm typing it out. That's how I did my first two entries at least. This one was a little different. I was just going through a bunch of different themes I'd like to use if I were ever to win a challenge and this was an idea I had for the theme "Waiting". I kinda came up with a general story and started working on it the next night (much earlier than I usually write). I think this one suffered because of that. I went a little crazy and petered out a little early, which is why it's so short.
Oh well, I might rework the concept before the end of the contest.
Oh well, I might rework the concept before the end of the contest.
Mike Works
Member
yeah, i like to tell myself that i pre-plan everything, but i started sketching out some words before going to bed last night for this challenge, and good god, my story changed so absolutely completely within the span of 15 minutes
evilpigking
Member
I guess I'll try my hand at this. Not sure if the usual rules would apply to the fiction so I censored some of it just in case.
evilpigking
Member
"It's a mighty fine day today isn't George?"
That was a lie of course, it was hotter than one of them peppers the British get from their Indian colony outside and I'd had to wipe the sweat from my brow at least six times on the wagon ride into town. My straw hat provides some shade and ventilation but doesn't help much in heat like today.
"That it is, John, that it is. So ya hoping to procure some new merchandise today?" I could tell he was lying as well, he was wiping his face every couple of minutes with a throughly soaked handkerchief. The beaver skin tophat couldn't be helping against the heat at all.
"That's right, the missus got another little one coming along so I thought it might be about time to get some more help around the home and it never hurts to have more hands in the fields come harvest."
"Ya damn right about that friend, of course the problem with them ni****s is that even though they got two hands, with the amount of work they do they might as well just have the one, and between you and me, some of mine do!"
George broke out into a hoarse laugh along with the rest of the crowd within earshot, all sweating under their fur hats like they sitting in an injun sweat tent. I laughed as well, wouldn't do me a lick of good to have the most powerful men in the state against me even if the whole lot of them are lim*y bastards. Sometimes it seems like the whole country is rotted to the bones, well, at least those in power. Living a decadent life throwing around money earned by their parents, not working a day in their lives. I mean look at George here, he must weigh at least eighteen stones and is known to take advantage of the house slaves and beat them nigh to death if they speak a word. The rest of the lot ain't much better although some of the older gents are alright, the ones who worked their fingers to the bone to get where they are now.
The laughter subsides as the auctioneer steps up to the podium and begins bringing forth the merchandise for presentation. The poor and the dumb start paying attention but us experienced folk know that the quality merchandise won't come til later and if you were to buy early on you'd be lucky to get more than a year or two out of him before he dies. No sir, buying early on is not a good choice.
"...on Friday?"
George's voice snaps me back to the conversation around me. "Sorry George, I missed what you just said, was busy thinking about which type of ni***** would be best for the missus, young, old, or something in between, could ya repeat what you just said?"
"But of course ah can" George has his usual dumb smirk on his face, always proud to be the recipient of a request, thinks it earns him favors. "Ah was asking if ya were gonna be attendin the gatherin at the Turner place on the fourteenth? But before ya answer let me help you out with ya ni**** decision as well. Ya don't want an old one because although they know their work, they just won't last long enough. Now if ya get a middle looking one, they put up less fight than the youngins and are probably still of breedin age to get you anotha generation for free but lack in other ways. The youngins, they are more trouble to break in but once ya do they last a long time and are the best for nighttime activities if ya know what ah mean."
I want to say, "I know exactly what you mean you sick bastard" but instead I say
"Thanks for your advice George, I know you have much more experience on these matters. With regard to the Turner's on the fourteenth, I wouldn't miss it for the world, the missus has been talking about it nonstop for weeks now, wondering what to wear, babbling on about which dress to choose and how she just wore her best dress at the last ball so it would be no good to wear it to the Turner's and how this dress is the wrong color for the season and that one is out of fashion and whatnot. You know, women's talk that I want no part of."
"Yes ah do."
"Well I finally got tired of it and plan to tell her to have a new dress made once I am done here, I figure that will be the end of it."
"Ah do agree but ah been telling ya for years now that you ought to have a heavier hand. Keep your women and your ni****s in place, why last time ah went to ya place them ni****s were standing around in the shade wearin hats just like yours, ah still don't understand why ya don't get ya self a real man's hat but anyway them ni****s were just standing and talkin of all things! It was like they thought they was free men workin for a union. No way ya'd ever see mah ni****s acting that way. Ah just don't know how you always seem to have the highest crop yields year after year letting them sit around like that."
Taking deliberate care to adjust my straw hat I look at the bastards staring at me awaiting a reply right in the eyes, gather my courage, and say
"Must of caught them on one of their meal breaks." No use in committing social suicide. "I keep trying to explain that they will work more productively if they have some happiness in life and don't get me started about my hat, you know how comfortable it is, besides I been hearing tales about people going crazy from wearing those fancy beaver caps you all got, maybe they were just unlucky enough to get fur from a rabid one or something and the same insects that made the animal mad are burrowing into their skulls making them go mad too."
More than one man in the crowd lifted off his hat for a moment to ruffle his hair before replacing it.
"Well gentlemen, it looks like it is about time for the quality merchandise to start coming out so if you will excuse me, I'll be making my way over to the cages for inspection."
"Ha! Ne'er thought ah'd hear ni**** and quality in the same sentence!"
The tail end of George's voice was drowned out by laughter from the crowd as I made my way towards the presentation platform. The cages were still about half full and most seemed in good shape, unusual. Must have been an extra sturdy group this time to have this many survive the voyage with health intact, a shame really since I'd rather be dead than live the futures that await most of them. It is always a little unsettling coming to the market, their eyes so full of fear. Or tears. Always fear or tears. The defiance beat out of them in the months it took to arrive here from where ever they were taken. If that wasn't enough the impromptu head shave and cold water wash on arrival would have them spooked long enough for the auction.
"Next up we have a fine specimen, probably around age sixteen, perfect for breeding and housework. What say you gentlemen?"
I looked at the young girl being forced out of the cage onto the platform. Sweat glistening on her bare head and naked body. She was attractive enough as long as you didn't look into her eyes, eyes welled with tears and full of terror. She was calling out to one of the boys still in the cage and him to her, probably family although possibly lovers. I looked around me and saw George staring at her, his eyes full of hunger and lust, others in the crowd seemed to share his emotions.
I knew what I had to do...
The missus met me at the door as the wagon came to a stop, her brunette hair glowing in the afternoon sun. I stepped down from the wagon and held the door as the young girl and boy stepped out nervously onto the gravel walkway. The rest of the black workers on my plantation, faces full of smiles, protected against the hot sun with all sorts of headgear, gathered around to welcome the newcomers.
"These fine people will show you to your new home and personal growing area. Should you want to work the fields I pay fair wages, you can run if you want but if you do try to run north."
The missus handed the young girl a dress as I lifted off my hat and placed it on the head of the boy.
"Welcome to America, Land of the Free."
That was a lie of course, it was hotter than one of them peppers the British get from their Indian colony outside and I'd had to wipe the sweat from my brow at least six times on the wagon ride into town. My straw hat provides some shade and ventilation but doesn't help much in heat like today.
"That it is, John, that it is. So ya hoping to procure some new merchandise today?" I could tell he was lying as well, he was wiping his face every couple of minutes with a throughly soaked handkerchief. The beaver skin tophat couldn't be helping against the heat at all.
"That's right, the missus got another little one coming along so I thought it might be about time to get some more help around the home and it never hurts to have more hands in the fields come harvest."
"Ya damn right about that friend, of course the problem with them ni****s is that even though they got two hands, with the amount of work they do they might as well just have the one, and between you and me, some of mine do!"
George broke out into a hoarse laugh along with the rest of the crowd within earshot, all sweating under their fur hats like they sitting in an injun sweat tent. I laughed as well, wouldn't do me a lick of good to have the most powerful men in the state against me even if the whole lot of them are lim*y bastards. Sometimes it seems like the whole country is rotted to the bones, well, at least those in power. Living a decadent life throwing around money earned by their parents, not working a day in their lives. I mean look at George here, he must weigh at least eighteen stones and is known to take advantage of the house slaves and beat them nigh to death if they speak a word. The rest of the lot ain't much better although some of the older gents are alright, the ones who worked their fingers to the bone to get where they are now.
The laughter subsides as the auctioneer steps up to the podium and begins bringing forth the merchandise for presentation. The poor and the dumb start paying attention but us experienced folk know that the quality merchandise won't come til later and if you were to buy early on you'd be lucky to get more than a year or two out of him before he dies. No sir, buying early on is not a good choice.
"...on Friday?"
George's voice snaps me back to the conversation around me. "Sorry George, I missed what you just said, was busy thinking about which type of ni***** would be best for the missus, young, old, or something in between, could ya repeat what you just said?"
"But of course ah can" George has his usual dumb smirk on his face, always proud to be the recipient of a request, thinks it earns him favors. "Ah was asking if ya were gonna be attendin the gatherin at the Turner place on the fourteenth? But before ya answer let me help you out with ya ni**** decision as well. Ya don't want an old one because although they know their work, they just won't last long enough. Now if ya get a middle looking one, they put up less fight than the youngins and are probably still of breedin age to get you anotha generation for free but lack in other ways. The youngins, they are more trouble to break in but once ya do they last a long time and are the best for nighttime activities if ya know what ah mean."
I want to say, "I know exactly what you mean you sick bastard" but instead I say
"Thanks for your advice George, I know you have much more experience on these matters. With regard to the Turner's on the fourteenth, I wouldn't miss it for the world, the missus has been talking about it nonstop for weeks now, wondering what to wear, babbling on about which dress to choose and how she just wore her best dress at the last ball so it would be no good to wear it to the Turner's and how this dress is the wrong color for the season and that one is out of fashion and whatnot. You know, women's talk that I want no part of."
"Yes ah do."
"Well I finally got tired of it and plan to tell her to have a new dress made once I am done here, I figure that will be the end of it."
"Ah do agree but ah been telling ya for years now that you ought to have a heavier hand. Keep your women and your ni****s in place, why last time ah went to ya place them ni****s were standing around in the shade wearin hats just like yours, ah still don't understand why ya don't get ya self a real man's hat but anyway them ni****s were just standing and talkin of all things! It was like they thought they was free men workin for a union. No way ya'd ever see mah ni****s acting that way. Ah just don't know how you always seem to have the highest crop yields year after year letting them sit around like that."
Taking deliberate care to adjust my straw hat I look at the bastards staring at me awaiting a reply right in the eyes, gather my courage, and say
"Must of caught them on one of their meal breaks." No use in committing social suicide. "I keep trying to explain that they will work more productively if they have some happiness in life and don't get me started about my hat, you know how comfortable it is, besides I been hearing tales about people going crazy from wearing those fancy beaver caps you all got, maybe they were just unlucky enough to get fur from a rabid one or something and the same insects that made the animal mad are burrowing into their skulls making them go mad too."
More than one man in the crowd lifted off his hat for a moment to ruffle his hair before replacing it.
"Well gentlemen, it looks like it is about time for the quality merchandise to start coming out so if you will excuse me, I'll be making my way over to the cages for inspection."
"Ha! Ne'er thought ah'd hear ni**** and quality in the same sentence!"
The tail end of George's voice was drowned out by laughter from the crowd as I made my way towards the presentation platform. The cages were still about half full and most seemed in good shape, unusual. Must have been an extra sturdy group this time to have this many survive the voyage with health intact, a shame really since I'd rather be dead than live the futures that await most of them. It is always a little unsettling coming to the market, their eyes so full of fear. Or tears. Always fear or tears. The defiance beat out of them in the months it took to arrive here from where ever they were taken. If that wasn't enough the impromptu head shave and cold water wash on arrival would have them spooked long enough for the auction.
"Next up we have a fine specimen, probably around age sixteen, perfect for breeding and housework. What say you gentlemen?"
I looked at the young girl being forced out of the cage onto the platform. Sweat glistening on her bare head and naked body. She was attractive enough as long as you didn't look into her eyes, eyes welled with tears and full of terror. She was calling out to one of the boys still in the cage and him to her, probably family although possibly lovers. I looked around me and saw George staring at her, his eyes full of hunger and lust, others in the crowd seemed to share his emotions.
I knew what I had to do...
The missus met me at the door as the wagon came to a stop, her brunette hair glowing in the afternoon sun. I stepped down from the wagon and held the door as the young girl and boy stepped out nervously onto the gravel walkway. The rest of the black workers on my plantation, faces full of smiles, protected against the hot sun with all sorts of headgear, gathered around to welcome the newcomers.
"These fine people will show you to your new home and personal growing area. Should you want to work the fields I pay fair wages, you can run if you want but if you do try to run north."
The missus handed the young girl a dress as I lifted off my hat and placed it on the head of the boy.
"Welcome to America, Land of the Free."
crowphoenix
Banned
Generally, I try to just have a basic frame work for a story: The begining and maybe another scene to work towards. Anything else is created while writing.
On that note, I have my idea a little bit more fleshed out. I'm looking forward to writing it.
On that note, I have my idea a little bit more fleshed out. I'm looking forward to writing it.
I'm not sure...originally I was going for a poem. Then I read Zen in the Art of Writing, and wrote a story using Mr.Bradbury's philosophy. Then I started a second story, which may not suit a 1800 word limit... I'll try to finish both and see if I feel like submitting one or not.
ronito said:I still got nothing. I got several wonderful images. But nothing really substantial to back them up. I really might not make it this time
You should just write a shorter story with one of those images in its basest form. That's what I ended up doing. Of course, I'm sure you can manage it much better than I did.
crowphoenix
Banned
Just write a retelling of Hamlet about Yorick as a zombie detective hell bent on discovering the truth of the late king's murder.ronito said:I still got nothing. I got several wonderful images. But nothing really substantial to back them up. I really might not make it this time
crowphoenix
Banned
If there's one thing the world has taught me, it's that everyone ought to take a crack at butchering Shakespeare.
Gattsu25 said:
So it worked, then. I think I'll give it a try, because I tried to force myself to write earlier and ended up falling asleep.
For people who don't know what he's talking about: http://lab.drwicked.com/writeordie.html
hey_monkey
Banned
I've started mine, but I'm editing a short story for class and my profs threw down a massive homework gauntlet on the first day, so I may be one of the last-minute people this go-round... if I make it at all. :/ I'm happy with my idea (I think), but so pressed for time!
Timedog said:
BIRD BY BIRD: SOME INSTRUCTIONS ON WRITING AND LIFE by ANNE LAMOTT
http://www.amazon.com/dp/0385480016/?tag=neogaf0e-20
crowphoenix
Banned
"Bird by Bird" : Anne Lamott. It's a really good book on fiction and writing.Timedog said:
Well, since everyone's discussing methods...
Does anyone carry a notebook or something around with them to jot down ideas? I do. Everywhere. Well, I use to. Now I use my iPhone's Note application -- god bless this device. Notebooks are too fragile.
I carry around a Dictionary I read frequently, also (also fragile). Being a lexiphillic and a lover of abstract thought, a single word can sprout dozens of ideas.
-Kimo
Does anyone carry a notebook or something around with them to jot down ideas? I do. Everywhere. Well, I use to. Now I use my iPhone's Note application -- god bless this device. Notebooks are too fragile.
I carry around a Dictionary I read frequently, also (also fragile). Being a lexiphillic and a lover of abstract thought, a single word can sprout dozens of ideas.
-Kimo
Is there a website where you can post your work and have other users comment/feedback on it? I know there are loads for art but I really want to get into some creative writing but, unfortunately, my university doesn't offer it as a module so it'll have to be something I take up in my own time.
If not is this a good place to ask about grammatical queries? In case you haven't noticed my grasp on punctuation and grammar isn't the best, especially for someone studying English, but, again, my course isn't as concerned with that. They'll tell you when you do it wrong but not how to do it right.
EDIT
Also I've just googled this Scrivener programme; is there a windows version or another programme similar?
If not is this a good place to ask about grammatical queries? In case you haven't noticed my grasp on punctuation and grammar isn't the best, especially for someone studying English, but, again, my course isn't as concerned with that. They'll tell you when you do it wrong but not how to do it right.
EDIT
Also I've just googled this Scrivener programme; is there a windows version or another programme similar?
hey_monkey
Banned
Sure, throw out some grammatical questions. I'm sure someone will answer them! Oooh, though you might want to use this thread instead. There are loads of good books, too. I like the classic Strunk and White myself, and then also The Art of Styling Sentences. It's a textbook but full of really great advice and exercises.
There are loads of critique sites on the internet. What sorts of things do you write? With more information, we can all put up some recommendations, I'm sure.
Oh, in regard to Scrivener... I really don't know what's available for Windows. Maybe some of the Windows users can look and recommend something similar. I love that program so much.
There are loads of critique sites on the internet. What sorts of things do you write? With more information, we can all put up some recommendations, I'm sure.
Oh, in regard to Scrivener... I really don't know what's available for Windows. Maybe some of the Windows users can look and recommend something similar. I love that program so much.
Okay, before I throw myself to the wolves completely, here's a quick trial run, cuz' I've never done anything like this before. I just want to make sure this concept is palatable to you guys -- I don't think there will be any background music (for this entry) unless you guys feel like what I'm doing couldn't be tolerable without it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOcxRMtE6cs
I'm probably not gonna have time to rehearse my actual entry, so I'll probably have to end up reading from my screen with the proper emphasis.
*edit*
Ugh, my voice sounds dull through the camera.
-Kye
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOcxRMtE6cs
I'm probably not gonna have time to rehearse my actual entry, so I'll probably have to end up reading from my screen with the proper emphasis.
*edit*
Ugh, my voice sounds dull through the camera.
-Kye
Nuts! I've always wanted to involve myself in this thread but I can never inspire myself to actually come through with the goods. I remember the IN THE FLASH challenge I had this idea of a cruel, heartless man meeting his maker from a man he put on the street in a robbery and it all happened in a flash. Maybe one day one of the topics will entice me to contribute. Until then I'll just be reading and just keep lurking.
Might have to start voting!
Might have to start voting!
- Status