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SatansDisciple
Member Posts: 2,782
This is the story that the real main story will be based upon, so basically this is the intro to a story I plan on writing. I have some of the main story written, and the whole thing in my head, but it's kind of rough. I've been working on this story for... 3 nights. Me and a friend are going to make a manga out of it for our high school project, me doing the story and her doing the drawing. This is my first story, so be gentle with reviews/criticisms 
. Hehe, you could post stories/poetry you've written as well, make it the official story thread or something.
Note: translations gotten from here, not sure how reliable it is.
Bushido
by SD
Thousands of years ago, in an era of time different from our own, before the event we call the big bang, there existed a land much similar to what we are told about our own history. This tale only focuses on a certain area of this history, Japan. Cut-off from the rest of the world, Japan is vastly different from other countries. Dominated by Samurai, they follow a strict code, the way of the warrior, the Bushido. at this time, two samurai had earned a celebrity like status, Bara and Toge. Their sword's have an interesting story all by themselves. Bara and Toge were born in totally different areas of Japan. On this night, the Fuhensai saw the spirit of a light dragon above Bara's home, and the spirit of a dark dragon above Toge's home. This was the signal for him to pass on the two most powerful swords known to mankind: the Awaihata, which was given to Bara, and the Kuroken, given to Toge. They were forged at the holiest and unholiest of places, the Kadoguchi, using materials gathered from the highest reaches of heaven for the Awaikatana, and the depths of hell for the Kuroken. The Kadoguchi is where all spirits go when they die, from there going to either heaven or hell. At the age of 18, each were given their swords, by their parents who had held them for all these years, in the same holy ceremony, this being the first time they had seen each other. It is on this day that their legacy began.
It is said that Bara and Toge warded off the armies of hell, alone, during the Kousa Makai. The Emperor would not confirm this story, as it would give his military a bad name. In fact, the Emperor detested Bara and Toge's popularity. His hatred grew to the point where had to rid of them, at the least remove their celebrity status. An assassination would be too obvious, the Emperors hate for them was well known throughout the land. Turning them against each other would likely take them out of the publics eye, and they would be the only two to blame. The Emperor thought that Toge always seemed a bit more rebellious, If he were to turn them against each other, he would likely want to start there. He sent a negotiator to speak with Toge, they talked in an interview form. He found a brotherlike bond between the two, with a complete lack of ill-will towards each other. This did not bode well for the Emperor, therefore he had to create some ill-will. He sent 3 assassins to kill Bara's family, leaving this note behind: "Accept this as my challenge old friend, may the heights of heaven and the depths of hell meet through the power of our swords. In 3 days time, at the Kadoguchi. With love, Toge". Bara does not believe his old friend would do this to him, but has no choice but to accept. The next night, Bara responds with a flaming arrow to Toge's home, and an attached note to a tree outside, which read: "3 days my friend, 3 days... At the beginning of our journey shall our story come to an end. - Bara".
It is a rainy day, Bara and Toge walk into the center of the Kadoguchi from opposite ends and draw there swords, not saying a word. Toge raises his sword to strike first, and Bara reacts by putting his in a blocking position. As Toge swings down, both swords glowed with a light brighter than any you could ever see. The moment they struck, There was a world-ending, no, an existance-ending explosion. With this explosion, the world they lived in was eradicated, leaving absolute nothingness, imediately followed by the creation of a new world, new space. The only things that carried over from the old world to the new were the Awaikatana and Kuroken, Bara and Toge's swords. These two swords contained the spirits of their owners, spirits so strong even nothingness could not desroy them. On this new world, the Awaihata was located at the closest earthly point to heaven, at the top of the mountain now known as Everest, and the Kuroken at the closest point to hell, at the bottom of what is today known as the Dead Sea.
This brings us up to our current story. It is the year 1234 a.d., and Japan is in the middle of a civil war. After the last emperor died, the emperor's war minister, Yokushin, found a scroll that was given to him by his dying father. This scroll summarized the story I told you above, along with the following: "Whoever wields both Awaihata and Kuroken, can unite Japan under one ruler". The emperor's son, Jinkun, was appointed to the throne. But upon reading the scroll, Yokushin started thinking about ruling his own country. Being the war minister gave him a taste for power, and reading this scroll just made him realize how possible that this fantasy was. As a result of this, he started debating against the emperors son, eventually winning over enough supporters to split away from the mainland of japan, conquering the whole south half to use as a base for his empire. The emperor's son, needless to say, is unhappy about this. He orders his forces to attack the wall that Yokushin had built, ordering them to surrender or be taken by force. He underestimated Yokushin's influence over his people, as a large army rushed through the doors in the wall and Jinkun's small force that he had sent was overtaken. That all happened twenty years ago, in 1214 a.d., and a war has been fought between their two walls ever since, the battle lines never moving any significant distance. Another, smaller war was being fought as well, one to gain control of both swords. While they didn't battle each other, journeying to the tip of everest, more than 29,000 feet, and swimming down 400 meters to the bottom of the Dead Sea was no easy task, the technology just didn't exist. It took 10 years and hundreds of men for Jinkun to get the Awaihata from the top of Everest, and 7 years and only 40 some men for Yokushin to get the Kuroken from the bottom of the Dead Sea. Without both swords in ones posession, they are only very powerful swords, they won't give one control of Japan unless one Emperor posesses both.
(just recently added this paragraph, very rough)
Both emperors have been looking for a way to try to break the stalemate. The japanese islands are spread to thin to attempt a flanking maneuver, and both sides are protected by boats from both emperors. Both sides refuse to try to talk peace, they both want control of the whole land. One of the main ideas has been a duel. Both emperors funds are running low, if one soldier from each side could represent the whole land, it would bring about a much quicker, cheaper conclusion. Both sides are very confident in their soldiers, for that reason it is decided that the war shall be decided by two soldiers, one from each kingdom. Each side will hold a tournament to decide who these soldiers will be.
Definitions:
(japanese) = (english)
Bara = Rose
Toge = Thorn
Kadoguchi = Gateway
Awaihata = Light Edge
Kuroken = Dark Sabre
Kousa Makai = War of Hell
Fuhensai = Omnipresence
Jinkun = Sovereign, Ruler
Yokushin = Greed
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Thanks, and I just wrote this last night. Me and a friend are going to make a comic out of this as well for fun. Rizu represents her, and Adrialic is me. I tried to make Rizu's origin kind of comedic, not sure how well I did, and Adrialic's is kind of overdramatic, trying to idolize the feeling of apocalypse now.
Priestly Beer Cops!
Liz's (Rizu, The Holy Priestess) Origin:
(I have 2 different second paragraphs I could use, can't decide, but don't get confused, they start at the same time.)
"That will be $12.50, thank you!", said 13 year old Liz, working as a cashier at her mother's beer distributor. As the customer walked out the door, another came in, a very young looking one at that. Ten minutes later, the customer came up to the counter with 3 cases of beer. "That will be thirty-two fif-... hey, you look a little young! Let me see some ID, punk!". With this said, the lil' punk picked up the beer and ran for the door. Liz flew over the counter and dived at the punks ankles before he even got 3 steps away, and managed to capture the beer before it hit the ground! She was praised by all that were in the store, and given the employee of the month award, in the middle of the month!
Option #1 for second paragraph:
That night, while Liz lay in bed, soon after making her prayers, a bright light awoke her! "Liz", said a voice. "Dammit David! Get the hell outta my room!", replied Liz, in an unholy rage. "Calm down Liz! It's just God, don't worry!". "Bullshit David! I can turn a light on!". But when Liz turned the light on, there was nothing! But the voice continued... "No Liz, I'm not kidding! It's God!". "Well what the hell do you want?!". "Liz, your act of heroism at your mother's shop didn't go unnoticed, that was very brave of you!". "What the hell, are you watching me all the time or something???". "Nonono, I just see the brave things people do... andwhenthereintheshower". "What?". "Nothing, anyway, I bare a gift for you". "What is it?". Liz's ceiling seemingly opened up, and through the hole decended a gigantic bible, as gracefully as a feather. "This bible is huge!", said Liz, as she tried to lift the collossel book, "And what do I need another bible for? We have so many lying around the house!". "It's to smack the punk ass kids around! Farewell, Rizu! Holy Priestess of... Holiness! Yeah that sounds good. Later Rizu", and with that, the room went dark again, and the hole in the ceiling closed.
"...Rizu...?"
Option #2 for second paragraph:
That night while Liz lay in bed, soon after making her prayers, she is blinded by a bright light. "Liz", said a voice. "Wh-... Who is it?". "Who do you think it is? It's Buddha". "But I'm not a Buddhist...". "You dolt, it's God. Listen, that stunt you pulled today with that punk ass kid? Good stuff, gooood stuff. So, I'm wondering if you'd like to be a priestly beer cop! Whaduya say? I can even get you a partner, or a sidekick, if you don't want to be overpowered, you know". "Well... sure, I guess...". "Great! Here ya go"
*WHUMP*
"Holy shit, get this weight off me!". "Why Liz, that's your weapon! It is an overly large bible!". "Overly large? really?". "Shutchermouf". "Well what the hell do I need a bible this big for? We have too many bibles lying around the house as it is". "It's for smacking the punk ass kids around! Oh, and one last question, do ya want a partner/sidekick?". "Sure, just make sure he is the most handsome, charming, funny, best guy in the world!". "Well, I'll have to go back in time for him! I'll have him here in a second. For now... Farewell, Rizu, The Holy Priestess of... Holiness! Damn I'm good... Anyway, Later". And with that, the light disappeared, and Liz eagerly awaited her handsome partner, whom she had decided would be her bitch... erm... sidekick!
(Personally, I think the #2 second paragraph is funnier. I'm trying to make the two heroes somewhat opposites, Rizu's origin being more lighthearted, and Adrialic's being more serious and hardcore.)
Mike's (Adrialic, The Forsaken Soldier) Origin:
"They say there are no aetheists is foxholes... bullshit. My lack of faith only makes me a better killer, gives me a better chance to survive. The only thing better than dying for my country is making the other poor bastard die for his. Screw that, this war is bullshit, along with my country, dying for anything else would be better. I am a forsaken soldier, I believe in no god, I am held down by no law, I am a soldier in the Nam. There are no rules here."
14 year old Mike has been slowly drifting into insanity, being on his 3rd tour of duty, and being the youngest enlisted soldier in the Vietnam War. He has realized he has no reason to live, and every reason to die. He dashes out from behind his bunker, only to have his right arm cut off by AK47 fire, then falling back behind the bunker. No one bothers to pull him back, they are only worried about their own lives. No one treats him, so he treats himself, using incredibly crude instruments, sticks and pieces of cloth. The commanding officer orders a retreat, Mike doesn't care. He rests along the bunker, watching his allies run by him like he wasn't there. As the North Vietnamese army surrounds him, a bright light shines on him from above, through the thick foliage of the Vietnamese jungle.
"I have a job for you... Adrialic."
"......"
"Adrialic"
"......"
"Adria-"
"Dammit that's not my name!"
"It is your holy name"
"... who the hell is this"
"I am god"
"Yea, right, did someone decide to save my sorry ass?"
"Adrialic, I have a jo-"
"I said that's not my name! Ah fuck it, go on, what does 'God' want with me?"
"34 years in the future, there is a girl who could use your help with her holy quest."
"And this holy quest would be?"
"Busting punk ass kids who buy beer without ID."
"You're kidding."
"Well, it's very important to me!"
"Is she cute?"
"Very"
"Ah what the hell, send me off, sir."
"Do you believe now?"
"I don't know what to believe, what to be positive of and what doesn't exist."
"Fair enough, farewell Adrialic, the Forsaken Soldier"
With that the light went away, and Mike was sent through a wormhole in time. He awoke disoriented, indoors, an entirely different world than what he had been in minutes before. His missing arm had been replaced by a glowing crossbow, with an arrow already loaded. He fired a test shot at the wall, and another arrow immediately appear in it's place on the crossbow. He was startled by a tap on his shoulder...
"Hi Mike! VERY good to see you!"
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Sounds good, but I have a question and a suggestion.
Question:
Where did the scroll come from telling the story about the swords? Who wrote it? Who knew about what happened if everything ceased to exist? ~Not contradicting your story, just may give you ideas on other things to write about.
Suggestion:
Might take slang out of story such as "outta". After all, it is Japan 800 years ago.
Other than that, sounds good. I wouldn't mind reading the whole thing after you are done.
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I don't think I have "outta" in Bushido, when I ctrl+f, I see I put it in the second story, which is modern, and it was dialogue.
As for the scroll, heh, I just kind of paniced when i just started writing about them having a war, I wanted to create a reason and didn't really go over it well. Hmm... I'm thinking, it was handed down through all the emperors, but Yokushin stumbled upon it on the emperor's sons desk, who was already emperor. Yokushin just started debating against him to get supporters. Changes added, thanks.
Originally, I was going to write the rest of the story in the first person, from the point of view one one soldier on each side, both would eventually become very significant. I really don't think my writing is that developed yet though, I tried and it just sounded bad in my head. So I'm thinking I might just tell the whole story like a history lesson.
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33.333333333333336% of me is a huge nerd! How about you?
Killer 100%
Achiever 53%
Explorer 33%
Socializer 13%
--------------------------------------------
New short story, I really should finish one of thse someday... heh. I won't tell you anything about it, I'm trying to write about it in a way that you learn the backstory as you read. I'm writing it from the first person, directly as the events happen. I'm really having trouble keeping it in the present tense, not sure how well I'm doing. This will need alot of editing before it's done. I'm looking to join a creative writing class, so hopefully I'll get better.
Not sure how close to finished this is, not sure if I'll continue with it. I'll see, depending on the responses I get. I've also got a D-Day short story and a sci-fi epic planned in the back of my mind.
I'd still like some comments on Priestly Beer Cops too. It's kind of been in hiatus, the friend I was going to do the comic with... well, I posted about it in that thread we're complaining about their day. I still kind of like the idea though.
This story is VERY rough. The title of this story might seem like a mystery so far, but I've got a kickass ending planned for this one.
Proof
by SD
30 seconds. The hand signals I was receiving from the door operator were louder than the airplane engines less than 3 feet away from me. I have been on many missions, many I had gone in with no weapons. But never had I gone in with no knowledge. No idea where I was, what the building was for, or what the objective was. Only a map with a red crosshair labeled "target". I have been trained to trust my superiors, to never worry about a mission, but the ambiguity of this mission had me on edge. Nevertheless, before the door operator could get his second "go" out, I had lept into the unknown.
Even with goggles on, I had trouble keeping my eyes open. I had nothing to focus on, the clouds below me couple with the complete darkness completely blinded me. I emerged from the clouds to see a large building, perhaps a factory, perched upon a tall cliff, 4 search lights waving around like a child with a flashlight. Apparently the plane had been spotted, I saw tracers from anti-aircraft guns. All according to plan, the plane was more than strong enough to withstand flak. With the guards focused on the plane, I pulled my parachute apporximately 100 meters from the rooftop. I was used to low deployments, the g-force from the sudden stop didn't bother me anymore. As I hit the roof I quickly tore my backpack from myself, and stuffed it along with the chute in a nearby air duct. I noticed a guard relieving himself off the side of the roof. How fortunate for me. The sounds of the alarm allowed me to stroll up to him and snap his neck like a stick. It gets easier the more you do it, I used to flinch at the sound of the bone breaking. Two guns in his holster, one likely stolen from another guards locker. So I thieved from the thief and slid the guns into my empty holsters, along with the 8 magazines he had. Thank you very much. I couldn't have done better if central command had supplied me with my weapons. Sadly, the guards uniform was not the standard for the base, which was known by look at the spotlight operators, and an ID card was also absent. I still had room for a rifle, but I wasn't planning on making that a priority. Some silencers would be nice, but I doubt I'll find any in a place where people like me are unwelcome. Since the alarm was already on, I was able to use the main roof access door to get into the building. After 3 uneventful flights of steps, I sighted a guard a flight below me. One flight up was a vent, which I sprinted up to and kicked in while sliding in feet first. I normally like to avoid vent systems, but I didn't have much choice here. The alarm was still running loudly, the guard walked right on by, not even noticing that it was kicked in. When he passed, I closed it back up and went deeper into the vent. A horrid stench soon met my nostrils. Bathroom ahead. I looked down through the grate to see the source of the foul stench, a prime target for a uniform and ID card. I squatted on top of the grate and kicked it on, falling right onto the shoulders of the unsuspecting rest room patron. It was an unusual maneuver, but I managed to snap his neck with my thighs. At this point the alarms were off, they still weren't aware of my presence. I hope the pilot made it out. Luckily no one else was in the rest room at the time. As i walked out in uniform and with ID card in pocket, another guard walked in. I greeted him like a fellow guard as I washed my hands. He began to open the door that I had just left, which still contained the dead body of a guard. "I just clogged that one up bad, woo boy did it feel good.". The guard chuckled, "Thanks for the warning", and entered the stall to the right of it. Whew, crisis averted. Talking felt odd, it seemed like a huge change. It had been more than 6 hours since I'd spoken a word to anyone, ever since the plane took off, so I guess it was to be expected.
The men's locker room was directly connected to the bathroom. This gave me an opportunity to get a more effective weapon, or a ridiculous amount of ammo. As I entered, I was still cautious to see if anyone else was present. No one. The guards uniform was uncomfortable compared to my muscle enhancing rubber suit. You wouldn't think so, but it's true. I decided to shed my guard uniform and grab some more ammo, as no rifles were present. As I closed alocker and started to turn around, I heard the door close. I quickly ducked behind a locker facing away from the door, both guns in hand. As the guard walked by, I kicked him in the back and he hit the locker in front of him, turning around as he fell to the floor, and I pointed my guns at him. His helmet had fallen off, showing his face and more importantly, his eyes. Those eyes. I stared at them as they teared up, his lip quivering, and his legs held close to his body, rolled up into a ball. He didn't even think to reach for his gun. Am I really this terrifying? Is this why I am trained to not show myself to my victims? I couldn't shoot him, I stormed out of the locker room and down the hallways to another door marked "stairwell". I knew that this image would stick with me for the rest of the mission.
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I read them, good job. I, too, am I writer. If you want, I will read through both of your stories again and check them for gramatical errors, and perhaps possible contraditions or plot holes (I thought I noticed one). However, I don't have the time today, maybe tomorrow.
Oh, one little tip regarding the second story. A gramatical tip that is. When a sentence starts with a number, always write it out. Instead of 30, put thirty, etc. Also, for numbers ten (10) and below, spell out the word... always.
It's pretty good, but theirs a problem: Posting a story that you created on a message board is one of the worst (if not dumbest) things you can do on the net . . . .
You can figure out why I said that . . .
-In memory of Laura "Taera" Genender. Passed away on Aug/13/08-
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RISING DRAGOON ~AION US ONLINE LEGION for Elyos
People might try and steal your stories...
Although I, myself, have posted original stories on these boards. One is an unfinished sci-fi/comedy retelling the bible. It not meant to be a bible pusher in anyway. I'm atheith, if that says anything about it.
The other two were myths. A creation myth, and also a myth explaining river oceans etc.
If anyone would like to see them I'd post them, but they aren't like SatansDiciple's stories at all.
Nice job by the way!
I of course stole them and use them for my writing and lit class... only joking of course.
Ah I trust you guys... I think... Anyway, I doubt these are of the quality of any money making novels. I'm just looking for some constructive criticism.
I would like to write a novel someday, but I seriously doubt it would be based on one of these. Possibly my sci-fi epic. It's a sci-fi retelling of WW2, countries = planets. I haven't started to write it, but I've got some good ideas.
And that would be greatly appreciated Drakeon, I could do it myself, but I could also miss some things.
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Just another suggestion. Read a lot. I know it is obvious... but seriously, a whole lot.
I read non-stop. I always have a book I am working on. Right now, I am working on finishing the last of The Dark Tower series by Stephen King. I also have read about every book ever published by C.S Lewis. Not to mention J.R.R Tolkien, Margret Weis, R.A Salvatore, and many others. As soon as I finish the last Dark Tower I will have read all of Stephen King's works in their entirety. That marks over 41 novels and umpteen short stories.
Anyway, find some authors you like and read all of their material. Try to formulate a writing style. I am not trying to discourage you, but at the moment, your style lacks emotion. I am not talking about the material here, I am talking about the style. My suggestion is a nice writing class, perhaps some practice for a newspaper. If you are still in high school, enter some essay contests. I really stack up prizes from those things. They aren't so tough. I am an atheist and I managed to write a 26 page essay on a topic regarding Mary and Jesus and the truth about divinity. I recieved third place in that one and $500.
So, to sum up my rambling:
1) Read
2) Read
3) Read until your eyes bleed
4) Take a writing class (doesn't even have to be in a collage. You can even take them online, search google.)
5) Write, write, write. If you plan to write a novel, it won't be easy. Write numerous short stories (yours are a good start), articles, essays, or poems. It doesn't even have to be for anything. I can't tell you how many essays or three page stories I wrote that just get stacked up in my closet without anyone ever seeing them.
Well, looks like my summing up turned out to be as long as my other stuff. Sorry 'bout that.
Faretheewell, Wordslinger.
*Edit* Typo in C.S Lewis' name. I accidentally put Lowis.
Ah I trust you guys... I think... Anyway, I doubt these are of the quality of any money making novels. I'm just looking for some constructive criticism.
I would like to write a novel someday, but I seriously doubt it would be based on one of these. Possibly my sci-fi epic. It's a sci-fi retelling of WW2, countries = planets. I haven't started to write it, but I've got some good ideas.
And that would be greatly appreciated Drakeon, I could do it myself, but I could also miss some things.
Theirs many who just be on the boards for info and never post. Theirs many people here you can't trust. Anyway, not only members can see it but nonmembers and visitors can too. You will never know what or if your novel will be a money making one or even a best seller until you publish it and find it out for yourself . . .
Your making a big mistake. . . on about 4 different things. . . . But I don't give word unless your doing is understoon . . .
-In memory of Laura "Taera" Genender. Passed away on Aug/13/08-
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RISING DRAGOON ~AION US ONLINE LEGION for Elyos
People might try and steal your stories...
Like me...
Really though... nice story from what I read of it so far.
"Put your foot where your mouth is." - Wisdom from my grandfather
"Paper or plastic? ... because I'm afraid I'll have to suffocate you unless you put this bag on your head..." - Ethnitrek
AC1: Wierding from Harvestgain
Just another suggestion. Read a lot. I know it is obvious... but seriously, a whole lot.
Really? I know I got an 800 page novel to hone my writing skills, and I set it down after the first 100 pages. Reading it just sapped what little inspiration and energy I had left. Of course it also had incredible violence, incest, sorcery, sex, and barbarism. Yeah, reading will certainly help your writing if you read subjects that will be similar in nature to what you want to write. Reading various other dissimilar works, I suppose, would also hone your writing skills (if you compare and contrast your own writing style). Anyway... goodluck.
"Put your foot where your mouth is." - Wisdom from my grandfather
"Paper or plastic? ... because I'm afraid I'll have to suffocate you unless you put this bag on your head..." - Ethnitrek
AC1: Wierding from Harvestgain
That is so very, very false. Reading anything will help develop a writing style. That is something that is greatly needed. The more you read the better you can be at writing. Of course, you need to write a lot too, but reading is a fundemental step.
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That is so very, very false.
what is false? the whole "sapped my energy and inspiration" part, the "subjects similar to what you're writing" part, or the "various other subjects to hone your skills" part? At any rate, do what works for you. So far, reading hasn't given me a lot, but it certainly has helped me in the least.
p.s. Drakaen, I also agree with your claim of writing. Since I started writing when I was nine years old, my writing has greatly improved. Some of that will come with age of course, but writing is a fundamental part in... well... writing.
Ok. I'll stop repeating others. Have fun, and let your imagination take you wherever it will. And above all, keep your writing simple but not bland - a mix of intrigue, description and twists perhaps... who knows.
"Put your foot where your mouth is." - Wisdom from my grandfather
"Paper or plastic? ... because I'm afraid I'll have to suffocate you unless you put this bag on your head..." - Ethnitrek
AC1: Wierding from Harvestgain
I'm really not that big of a reader. I read some manga and lots of magazines, but I have few favorite authors. I like Anne Rice alot. The Dark Tower series has been reccomended to me, I'll have to try that. I have to read Schindler's List for school, but so far I'm finding it incredibly boring.
I've been looking for some creative writing classes, and some online ones but I'm trying to avoid that. I won't ask about what you mean about the emotion thing, I'll leave that to a writing class. And I'm in my first year of HS, we only have a teacher written newsletter here. I started writing Bushido this summer because I was getting bored, and I just started having fun with it. I do little storyboards during school with stickmen about possible story ideas, and just look at those to describe the actions. That's how Proof got started anyway, the others didn't. I have a 6 notebook page comic with all these stickmen.
I could think of more to type, but I'm getting really tired. More criticism is appreciated, as well as suggestions.
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First year of HS, as in High School, as in meaning fourteen years old? If you are starting to write now, that is good. I started in the seventh grade, I believe. By the way, you said you only have a teacher written newsletter? No newspaper/english lit. club/creative writing group? I had all of those in my school. That is an obstacle.
Anyway, I would explain to you what it means to have emotion in your writing, but it would seriously take me about a thirty to fifty page document to do so, which is a challenge with a hang over.
A writing class can only benefit you, definitely do it. I had this one right in my town, at this little book shop where this writer would teach us every saturday. It was actually a pretty good class, and it was free. I only tried an online one once, and it wasn't the best, but it wasn't bad either. I did pick up some pointers from there, too.
Anyway, I know what you mean about sitting in a class room and writing story ideas. Hell, my entire history notebook is filled (all 200 sheets, front and back) with nothing but the ideas for my epic that will be written five years from now (to clarify, it will start to be written five years from now). There is a lot of planning that goes in to an epic that I could skip, but I don't want to. I have developed the type of writing where the story just flows from inside of you. As the characters speak, they pop in to your head and you see them. I could even skip the outline, but these books need to be perfect.
Anyway, I once again do not have the time to proof-read your work, but I promise I will get around to it. Good luck in your writing, wordslinger.
Thanks man. I'm definitely going to take a writing class. And I'll try this reading thing again, I'll start with the Dark Tower series, maybe read some of Anne Rice's non-New/Vampire Chronicles series. Any other books that could benefit my writing? Or just books that you would reccomend, I have kind of a short attention span when it comes to books.
And yea, HS = High School. And I'm 14 for just another week and a half
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And we just chose our clubs, we didn't have any clubs that had to do with writing, I was surprised. Our HS is kind of poor, it had a newspaper last year, but it didn't last.
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I see. Well, other books that I recommend, eh? You say you have a short attention span when it comes to reading, so I don't know how many books that I read you will be able to do the same with. When I read, I am in another world, seperated from reality. Books are far better than computer games, console games, television, and movies. Books are also more indepth than pictures. Some will say it is because one picture can't possibly tell a story. I disagree, pictures can tell a story, I just enjoy books far more.
On to books I will recommend:
Anything by C.S Lewis. Even his ones on Christianity, though I am an atheist, I found to be good. His acclaimed Chronicle of Narnia series is quite on par with Tolkein and King's epics.
Anne Rice is also good, I quite enjoy most of the things she has written.
R.A Salvatore is also gifted. His character of Drizzt Do'Urden is engaging and relatively "badass." If you read his series regarding Drizzt in its entirerty, it turns out really, really good. His Cleric Quintet is also worth the read.
The Dragonlance series by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman is a good read. It is very thorough and contains emotion.
One more thing of King's I recommend, since you will obviously not read his entire works (Some 41 or so novels and delah (too many to count) short stories), is his one of his non-fictions called On Writing. It is quite good and will definitely help you get started on writing.
Moving on to a new author, Christopher Paolini, read Eragon. It is a good start for this author and he plans to make it into a trilogy. He has potential and will probably pull it off.
The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown.
I, of course, recommend [b]reading[b] The Lord of the Rings instead of just seeing the movies. Also, read The Hobbit. First, of course.
Here is one to hold your interest and teach you some more about emotion: Harry Potter. Thats right, it isn't a kiddy book. It exists on a much deeper level. J.K Rowling was masterful in the creation of this series. It allows for the harmoniful existence of a children's story and a much, much deeper story that only adults (and not even all of them!) can receive from it.
Last, for now, try to read The Stand. Another King book. I argue this, aside from The Dark Tower to be his best book. Talk about emotion in writing. Wow.
Well, this is all I will recommend for now. Get back to me when you are finished.
My parents are refusing to let me take a writing class, say it's a waste...
I borrowed the first Dark Tower book, The Gunslinger, from a friend, not too long ago. I'm kind of a slow reader, but this book is definitely keeping my interest.
Also, I finished Proof, and wrote another very short story that I had to write for accel english. Here they are:
Note: copy and pasted from word, some of the indents came out wierd in Proof, but are fine in the second story. That and the quotation marks and apostrophes came out as question marks... ah well, try to figure it out.
Proof
by SD
30 seconds. The hand signals I was receiving from the door operator were louder than the airplane engines less than 3 feet away from me. I have been on many missions, many I had gone in with no weapons. But never had I gone in without any knowledge. No idea where I was, what the building was for, or what the objective was. Only a map on a PDA with a red crosshair labeled "target". I have been trained to trust my superiors, to never worry about a mission, but the ambiguity of this mission had me on edge. Nevertheless, before the door operator could get his second "go" out, I had leapt into the unknown.
Even with goggles on, I had trouble keeping my eyes open. I had nothing to focus on, the clouds below me couple with the complete darkness completely blinded me. I emerged from the clouds to see a large building, perhaps a factory, perched upon a tall cliff, 4 search lights waving around like a child with a flashlight. Apparently the plane had been spotted, I saw tracers from anti-aircraft guns. All according to plan, the plane was more than strong enough to withstand flak. With the guards focused on the plane, I pulled my parachute approximately 100 meters from the rooftop. I was used to low deployments, the g-force from the sudden stop didn't bother me anymore. As I hit the roof I quickly tore my backpack from myself, and stuffed it along with the chute in a nearby air duct. I noticed a guard relieving himself off the side of the roof. How fortunate for me. The sounds of the alarm allowed me to stroll up to him and snap his neck like a stick. It gets easier the more you do it; I used to flinch at the sound of the bone breaking. Two guns in his holster, one likely stolen from another guards locker. So I thieved from the thief and slid the guns into my empty holsters, along with the 8 magazines he had. Thank you very much. I couldn't have done better if central command had supplied me with my weapons. Sadly, the guards uniform was not the standard for the base, which was known by a look at the spotlight operators, and an ID card was also absent. I still had room for a rifle, but I wasn't planning on making that a priority. Some silencers would be nice, but I doubt I'll find any in a place where people like me are unwelcome. Since the alarm was already on, I was able to use the main roof access door to get into the building. After 3 uneventful flights of steps, I sighted a guard a flight below me. One flight up was a vent, which I sprinted up to and kicked in while sliding in feet first. I normally like to avoid vent systems, but I didn't have much choice here. The alarm was still running loudly, the guard walked right on by, not even noticing that it was kicked in. When he passed, I closed it back up and went deeper into the vent. A horrid stench soon met my nostrils. Bathroom ahead. I moved forward and looked down through a grate to see the source of the foul stench, a prime target for a uniform and ID card. I squatted on top of the grate and kicked it on, falling right onto the shoulders of the unsuspecting rest room patron. It was an unusual maneuver, but I managed to snap his neck with my thighs. At this point the alarms were off, they still weren't aware of my presence. I hope the pilot made it out all right. Luckily no one else was in the rest room at the time. As I walked out in uniform and with ID card in pocket, another guard walked in. I greeted him like a fellow guard as I washed my hands. He began to open the door that I had just left, which still contained the dead body of a guard. "I just clogged that one up bad, woo boy did it feel good. The guard chuckled, "Thanks for the warning", and entered the stall to the right of it. Whew, crisis averted. Talking felt odd; it seemed like a huge change. It had been more than 6 hours since I'd spoken a word to anyone, ever since the plane took off, so I guess it was expected.
The men's locker room was directly connected to the bathroom. This gave me an opportunity to get a more effective weapon, or a ridiculous amount of ammo. As I entered, I was still cautious to see if anyone else was present. No one. The guards uniform was uncomfortable compared to my muscle enhancing rubber suit. You wouldn't think so, but it's true. I decided to shed my guard uniform and grab some more ammo, as no rifles were present. As I closed a locker and started to turn around, I heard the door to the locker room close. I quickly ducked behind a locker facing away from the door, both guns in hand. As the guard walked by, I kicked him in the back and he hit the locker in front of him, turning around as he fell to the floor. I pointed my guns at him. His helmet had fallen off, showing his face and more importantly, his eyes. Those eyes. I stared at them as they began to shine from the tears, his lip quivering, and his legs held close to his body, rolled up into a ball. He didn't even think to reach for his gun. Am I really this terrifying? Is this why I am trained to not show myself to my victims? I couldn't shoot him, I stormed out of the locker room and down the hallways to another door marked "stairwell". I knew that that guards image would stick with me for the rest of the mission.
I was in such a daze from that confrontation that I didn't notice a guard at the bottom of the stairs after the door. I had no choice but to use my guns. 2 shots later, an alarm started almost instantly. I looked down and saw a grate. Back to the vents. I encountered yet another stench, this one more pleasant than the last, turkey and gravy perhaps? I surmised that either a kitchen or a mess hall lied ahead. As I got closer, I could hear the clanking of pans and metal utensils, with this information I determined it was the kitchen. As I got even closer, I noticed all the noises stopped. I peeked through the grate, a half second later a knife flew up, putting a small cut in my rubber hood. Without hesitation, I dove into the kitchen and pulled out my guns. Before I could aim them, they were kicked out of my hands by a foe I could not yet recognize. He stopped moving slowly, as if he was trying to intimidate me even more. I got a clear look at my opponent. He was a large, highly tanned man, likely Latino. He had an apron which read "KISS THE CHEF". How original. He had a black bandana wrapped around his forehead, with a corner pointed upwards, making his head seem even larger. Judging by his hand positions, I determined he was educated in Tae Kwon Do, which also happened to be my specialty. This promised to be a fun fight. From about 20 feet away, he sprinted at me and lunged through the air, one leg stretched out in front of him and the other bent backwards. Amateur. He obviously had never had a confrontation with a real human being. I simply crouched and, as he passed over me, punched him between the legs, a crude but effective move. I sprung from my crouching position and wrapped my arm around my throat to prevent him from yelling. After 20-some seconds, the kicking stopped. I stuffed his body in the utensils cabinet, and left the kitchen, disappointed.
Thinking of the mundane jobs being done around here, contradictory to my own job, made me think of my own retirement, which the cook had just gotten early. This was to be my last mission, 30 years was far too long for me. I was expecting to die doing this, it would have been nice to live, but I was ready to die. About a month ago I asked my superior about it. He was surprisingly easy to convince, a little hesitant at first, but after about 5 minutes he was pulling out the papers. Just one more mission, for old times sake he joked. It being a somewhat light hearted conversation, I accepted without consideration, which I now am growing to regret as I grow increasingly unsure and nervous.
But now wasnt the time to feel regret, I continued with my so called mission.
I looked through the circular windows in the doorway leading to the cafeteria. Almost every table was filled with abandoned trays; apparently I had interrupted their lunch. No time existed down here, they didnt know what time of day it was, lunch at night would have been normal to them without them knowing it. No food for me though, made me sluggish. I was startled by the sound of a bullet hitting the ground to the left of my foot; it would seem I had gotten someones attention. The tables were simple fold up tables, the kind you would find at a yard sale. I jumped over one to the right of me and pulled it over behind me to use for cover. I soon found out that these tables were made of weak plywood, as 3 bullets flew past my right arm. I rolled to a pillar for more effective cover, and took this chance to take a look at my map, hopefully getting a better idea of the layout of this room, always good information in a gun fight. As soon as I opened up the map, I noticed tan obvious piece of information that might have been important to know before. I hadnt been looking at the map, but I somehow made it to my objective. Was I to take my attacker out? Was that it? While wondering about those and breathing heavily, the attacker yelled to me, Youre not a guard? It was a woman. Its so weird how the gender of a human being can change a situation. I didnt want to respond to her question yet, so I responded with another question, Who are you? What are you doing here?
Waiting to be rescued
I guess youll be my target then
You mean you dont know what youre doing here?
Its part of the job. Where did you get that silenced gun?
The cook had it in a cabinet After you killed him I figured Id make myself known. You looked like a guard when I got out here so
Dont apologize. Ill take that gun of your hands though.
She looked down at the gun, then handed it over cautiously, like either it was going to kill her, or I was going to kill her with it. I figured it wasnt a good time to talk, so I grabbed her hand to signify follow me.
The following couple of hours sort of flew by. Just a series of hallways and stairwells, which without my map, I blindly headed up. Dozens of guards killed with 3 shots: hand, head, chest. Disarm, kill, make sure they cant breathe; one of the first things we learned in basic training. It seemed a lot easier to get out than to get in.
I arrived on the roof. I saw a ninja. A helicopter slowly rose from the ground behind him, blowing his headband over his left eye. As he drew his sword, the light from the helicopter reflected off the blade, staying at the tip when he got it into the classic position; straight out in front of him, held with both hands. My senses must have been more desensitized during these 30 years than I thought. For one we headed west from our base in Siberia, and another, I figure there arent ninjas running around Japan anymore anyway... and yet I still wasnt surprised. I really needed to retire assuming I survived this mission. Even after 100 plus missions, that didnt mean I was invincible. As far as I know, maybe I am. The only way to prove youre not immortal is to die. To die
I pushed Target, as I was calling her, behind an air vent, it wasnt much but that was all there was on this roof. The ninja charged at me, out of reflex I emptied the clip of my right-hand gun. The ninja responded by moving his sword around in a seemingly random pattern, resulting in 8 nearly simultaneous sparks. A half-second after I pulled the trigger last, I felt pain in my right arm. Hit by my own bullet? Who is this guy By time I looked up from my wound, he had his sword raised above my head; I barely had enough time to step out of the way. I spent nearly 3 minutes just dodging his swipes, getting sliced a countless number of times, none lethal. I couldnt think straight, the blade would cut through anything I would try and stop it with, and I couldnt get enough time to get a shot off. I couldnt just keep dodging forever. As if an answer to my prayers, a loud shot sounded from behind my foe, and he suddenly dropped to the ground. I saw a silhouette, but couldnt make out who it was with the helicopter.
Welcome, Agent 3
Is 1? Agent 1 is that you?
I never expected youd make it through this one, Im surprised. Almost makes it hard to do this
With that, Agent 1 flipped up his shotgun, I instinctively rolled behind the same air vent I had hidden Target.
Wh- Whats going on? Who is he?
Hes my boss
But he just-
Did you really think we were going to let you retire 3? Do you have any idea what youve turned into? We cant simply be released back into the wild! We are animals, fit only for zoos!, Agent 1 interrupted our conversation.
I could make it I know I could., I said, unsure about my words. Maybe he was right. 30 years cut off from the real world, cut off from any communication not related to a mission; perhaps we were too different from the rest of the world to blend in.
I know you dont really think that, you saw that guard look at you! Youre a monster in the truest sense of the word!!! Your life is death; its all it has ever been and all it ever could be. The reason youre joined our organization in the first place is because you werent good with people, why would you be any better after 30 years cut off from the common man? You Youve never lived!!!
I was done talking to him. It sounds selfish, but I just couldnt take it. Even if I had something resembling a life before I joined this organization, 30 years would have made me forget all about it. Ive never lived Never
Target
Yeah?
I want you to live, and I want him to die. What happens to me is irrelevant.
Dont do it, you can talk this out with him! There has to be a way! Dont listen to him, you are alive! This is just a job, everyone has a job!
I I dont care. You dont know what kind of job this is. I mean, I havent even asked why Im saving you yet. Im a search and rescue addict My biggest concern is finishing the mission, not worrying about why or how, just doing it.
What if I die after you? What good would that be?!
Ill never know. After I die, as far as I know, youre still alive. What happens to me isnt important.
Thats not a good enough reason! Its not worth it!!!
I need proof
What?!?! What kind o-
My existence was wiped out when I joined, all record of me being alive before June 15, 1970, gone. To the world, heck to myself I dont exist, dont live. The only way to know if youre alive is if you can die. I need proof of life.
I tuned out her screaming, like I had been tuning out 1s heckling this whole time. I reloaded my gun, and spun around on my left heel as I got up, and immediately started shooting. One loud bang, 6 holes in my torso, I kept going. One more bang, 8 more. I fell to my knees, and stayed up long enough to see 1 fall over. I fell forward, feeling the blood from my wounds run along my arms on the ground. This is it
Alive
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The Gift
by SD
Its painful to work on nights like this. Im here writing reports for people I feel nothing for, wasting hours of my life for them, while the beach twenty yards from the window I am staring out of is empty. Fifteen minutes on this beach could change my life, but Id never know, being bound by my own slave-like habits. I eve keep my suit on when I work at home, just to get the feeling of being confined to a workplace, it makes me work more efficiently. Knowing this behavior is unnatural doesnt deter me from my work, but the prospect of resting on the beach makes me bite my pen. Thats enough to convince me to take my jacket off and go outside.
The first thing I notice when I walk onto the porch is nothing. The sky is clear and the ocean is calm, the only thing to focus on is the half-sun on the horizon. This scene of tranquility takes me so off guard; I fall down the three steps leading to the beach, my face being cushioned by the sand. Out of reflex, the first thing I do when I get up is straighten my tie. Realizing this, I tear it off in anger, anger at disgracing such an open scene with my formal outfit. Its strange how such a small piece of cloth can make you feel so free after its removal. I role up my pant legs and sprint out to where wet sand meets dry, and fall over backwards, letting the water lap at my heels. I stare at the sky like a movie screen, waiting for something to happen, yet being entertained the whole time. This uninhibited view of the sky almost forces me to reflect on my own life. My life of conformity and schedule, so contradictory to this limitless sky. So much room, so much space for anything to happen, having all the time in the world. The possibilities in life are only limited to how you perceive the world. If you fear it, you never change. Embrace it, and you can make the most of it, and all the things it houses. Almost as if to represent my thoughts, a flock of seagulls fly overhead, hovering in a sudden gust of wind. That doesnt bring them down; they are able to remain flying the whole time, even with their environment going against them. How sad, to be admiring birds
I was abruptly brought out of my daze by an overly large wave, making me jump from the cold temperature. I remembered the report, which was due in 8 hours! I ran back inside, leaving my tie outside. When I sat down, I didnt know what to do. Well, it wasnt that, it was just I couldnt. It would be like giving me legs then pulling them out from under me. I started writing, and 15 minutes later, I ran back outside, knee deep into the water. On my desk was a letter of resignation. Crazy? Perhaps. But I didnt care. I wasnt happy, and that was enough of a reason for me. At this point, happiness was worth more than anything.
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Still looking for criticism on all of my stories for anyone that has time... and new story. It was originally supposed to be a 50's sci-fi spoof, but it turned into mass murder:
Attack of the Killer Sea Creatures
by SD
The day was like any other. The sun ablaze, its light landing on the skin of hundreds of beach-goers, out for a day of fun in the sun, an escape from the city only yards behind them, a city in the middle of a dry desert, other than the beach of course. However, this apparently normal day was not so. In the waters beyond the swimming distance of the people on the beach, was an armada under the sea, an armada of creatures never seen by the human race. They lived in an underground city, under the bed of the deepest part of the ocean floor. Less was known about them, on our own planet, than planets some light-years away. For a while, until high noon, the day would go on like any other. With the sun at its zenith, the first creature arose from the water, slowly crawling up the beach. The creature looked covered in seaweed, but this seaweed was pasty and white. Cries of horror were heard, while some ran, others stayed out of curiosity. They would be the first to go. Out of the waters behind the single creature, rose 5 large, organic looking craft. They moved hastily forward with water still running off the sides. Streams of highly compressed water shot out from small hoses all over each ship, using water from the ocean right below them. The streams sliced through all those who had stayed, not even giving them enough time to regret their mistake. Anyone who ran and thought they were safe, thought wrong. While the water-shooting craft couldnt go over land, they had other means of killing off land-dwellers. Two turtle looking creatures shot out from the ocean and dove into the sand. Hidden beneath the sand, they silently swam towards the deserters, gradually coming up from the sand as they got closer, mouths opened. People seemed to be sucked into their mouths as the turtles darted through the crowds. As soon as the 2 turtles finished off the crowds, 2 giant robots came out of the ocean! Lasers shot out of their eyes, slicing through building and setting the fallen pieces on fire. As the lasers traveled the streets, the asphalt was torn in half, and people incinerated on contact. The city became a raging inferno. The robots then directed their lasers to the outside of the city, making lighting fast circles around it. As soon as the lasers were turned off, the city started sinking into the ground, causing the ground to shake, making buildings fall on top of the few people that might have survived the initial attack.
At this point, exactly one hour after the first creature stumbled onto the beach, the military became aware of the attack, or at least the vibrations being caused by it. Thinking it was just an earthquake, they sent in only a few helicopters, which were only fit to carry and treat survivors. Another hour later, they had arrived at the site. All that was left was a giant, sand-filled hole, with some tops of buildings sticking out. The beach, however, had been spared, leaving the dismembered bodies to bake in the sun, like an example of the creatures capabilities. An investigation was started, but they never found the cause of the massacre. All 300,000 inhabitants of the city were declared dead. To cover it up, they maintained that it was just a really, really bad earthquake, leaving out the part about the mutilated bodies. Nobody that is still alive ever saw any of the creatures, and their reasoning was never known.
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