Scratch

Wickimen wrote:

PlutoIsHades wrote:

Wickimen wrote:

That would be hard to imagine...
When the next issue comes out, guess 

Okay.  From what you've said in the past, I know you live somewhere on the West Coast.
My sister, PeaceLoveArt, is trying to get her artwork into Stone Soup.
What's your favorite story you've seen in SS?  Mine would have to be the Cheetah one, where the cheetah is trying to get free from a zoo.

Hmm. I haven't gotten that many issues yet, but from the newest issue I liked that one with Brandon and the wolf :3
Also, the one with the girls Isabel and someone...? I forget their names and the title now. Let me check the archive
Oh yeah, A Weekend With Isabella Hohenstauffen

Oh yeah, the wolf one was pretty good!  And "Logs", from the recent issue, except I don't like the ending.

Wickimen wrote:

PlutoIsHades wrote:

Wickimen wrote:

Hmm. I haven't gotten that many issues yet, but from the newest issue I liked that one with Brandon and the wolf :3
Also, the one with the girls Isabel and someone...? I forget their names and the title now. Let me check the archive
Oh yeah, A Weekend With Isabella Hohenstauffen

Oh yeah, the wolf one was pretty good!  And "Logs", from the recent issue, except I don't like the ending.

+1
She should've been able to save the tree
The writing was good, but I think she got it entirely from that part in Flipped

Did you read that one from a while back about the little boy who went back in time and met this little girl who helped him get home?  And it turned out she died the day after he met her?

Actually, I really couldn't find any errors in that
Awesome job! 

As for the post before, no, I didn't read that
Was it a Stone Soup story or a novel?

Short chapter, but here's the next.


Seven

    Kimmy awoke to the guard's yelling. "Get up, you lazy idiots!"  Blinking hard, she stood up and stretched, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
    Two more rat guards ran into the room and grabbed Rufus, hauling him to his feet. "Dad!" Kimmy yelled, uselessly trying to push the guards away.  One grabbed her shirt.
    "Insolent!" the guard, Marc, hissed.  He turned to the other guard, Grant. "We'll take her to the Great Lord, too."
    "No!" Rufus cried. "Take me, kill me, do whatever you want to me, but don't hurt her!"  Grant slapped his screw across Rufus' face. "Please!" Rufus begged. "Don't hurt her!  She's only seen eleven seasons!"
    Grant placed the tip of his screw against Kimmy's chest.  He turned to Rufus. "Shut up.  Understood?" Rufus nodded.
   

    Kimmy's mind was swimming with fear.  From what she could gather, they were being taken to the Great Lord Zamar, who was evil and ruthless.  She couldn't help but feel that they were going to die.
    She glanced over at her dad.  He turned his head to look at her.  The fear in his eyes scared Kimmy, but at the same time he seemed to be trying to tell her to stay brave.
    They finally arrived at a locked metal door.  Torchlight glinted off its steel surface, strange marks carves into it.  Kimmy could read just well enough to tell what it said.
    "Serve me well or die."

Run. The word echoed through her brain. That one word meant life... or if she failed to do it, it meant death. The female was a cat. Her name was Storm, and she was undoubtedly the only creature keeping the Hopeseekers alive. Storm's muscles began to ache, but she forced herself not to give up. The rain that plastered her dark gray fur had made the rocks slippery. She gave a sudden shriek as she tripped over a loose stone and lost her footing. She swiftly looked behind her and began to run again, coming to a sudden halt as she realized it hurt too much to put weight on her paw. Storm glanced behind her again, her desperate gaze raking the pelts of a snow-white wolf. "Help," she pleaded sadly, with one last glance at nature before feeling gave way in her body.

TO BE CONTINUED.. DUN DUN DUN. 

In the forest, where I was taking my daily walk, I see a small tree house. There isn’t much on the interior—just a table, packs of loose leaf, lots of pencils, and chairs. The exterior is simple—it’s nothing more than a small wooden shack with a window. There isn’t even a door, but there are wooden planks leading up to an entrance.
    I didn’t expect anything to happen, in fact, I was about to leave when I saw somebody who must have seen me through the window.
    “What are you doing here?!” she screamed. She looked familiar. “Wait,” her face lightened. “Is it really you, Tracy? I haven’t seen you since seventh grade!”
    I paused for a minute to process everything that had happened. “Clarke?”
    “Yes! Give me a second,” she said. She went back inside the tree house and came out with a yellow slip. “You like writing, right?” She handed me the paper. It was a slip signed by the leader of the club. “You can’t get in without it,” she explained. I saw another page that gave me details of the club: dates, times, members, rules, etc.
    “You’d really let me in?”
    “Yeah. I own the club anyways. Right now we’re exchanging writing tips. Next meeting we’ll do introductions. See you there!” She smiled at me before going back inside to tell all the members that the meeting is over.
    “Thanks,” I say, barely audible.
    “I’m sorry for what I did,” she said as she got ready to leave. “I was an idiot.”
    “Clarke, I--” she walked off before I finished my sentence.

I'd really like some feedback. This is a part from the story I'm writing, How I Lost It All, Got It Back, and Lost It Again.

Last edited by imnotbob (2012-03-04 00:02:55)

Creepy scifi-or-maybe-fantasy insane kid story part 2

    But now it was blazing gold; he must have been mistaken at last glance. The next moment it was a steely blue color like frigid ice. The object kept changing and flickering, glowing invitingly up at him, dark shimmering reds and pale orange and slate grays, molten iron and embers of flame and moonstone. He peered around the schoolyard. No one was looking; no one ever was. They used to, sometimes, but only then glances of mild interest or fright.
    Simon slipped one thin hand between the bars, the twigs below scratching at him like bony fingers and making him shudder. The cold thing pressed deep in his palm warmed nearly instantly at his touch. He curled open his hand to see his prize. At once the round object had stopped changing. It seemed clear as glass, but with shining glows from all hues at the right angle, as if it had been made from a mirror.
    And in the center was a clock.

Interesting to write a short story for a change
I'm updating this very slowly because I have nothing else to do and I'm pretty much posting as I write

Wickimen wrote:

Creepy scifi-or-maybe-fantasy insane kid story part 2

    But now it was blazing gold; he must have been mistaken at last glance. The next moment it was a steely blue color like frigid ice. The object kept changing and flickering, glowing invitingly up at him, dark shimmering reds and pale orange and slate grays, molten iron and embers of flame and moonstone. He peered around the schoolyard. No one was looking; no one ever was. They used to, sometimes, but only then glances of mild interest or fright.
    Simon slipped one thin hand between the bars, the twigs below scratching at him like bony fingers and making him shudder. The cold thing pressed deep in his palm warmed nearly instantly at his touch. He curled open his hand to see his prize. At once the round object had stopped changing. It seemed clear as glass, but with shining glows from all hues at the right angle, as if it had been made from a mirror.
    And in the center was a clock.

Interesting to write a short story for a change
I'm updating this very slowly because I have nothing else to do and I'm pretty much posting as I write

Oh my gosh twist ending what will happen now?
In other words, awesome.

@imnotbob and Pluto: Thanks 
I'll write more when I'm in the mood, or it will turn out suckish as most things tend to

PlutoIsHades wrote:

Wickimen wrote:

@imnotbob and Pluto: Thanks 
I'll write more when I'm in the mood, or it will turn out suckish as most things tend to

Yeah.  My mom will sometimes say "You could have written instead of playing Minecraft when you got up."  But I really am not in the mood for writing then.

Yeah I write better in the evening or at night

Wickimen wrote:

PlutoIsHades wrote:

Wickimen wrote:

@imnotbob and Pluto: Thanks 
I'll write more when I'm in the mood, or it will turn out suckish as most things tend to

Yeah.  My mom will sometimes say "You could have written instead of playing Minecraft when you got up."  But I really am not in the mood for writing then.

Yeah I write better in the evening or at night

I ask my mom if I can stay up for 10 minutes to work on Immortaia, but she says "You could have worked on it while you were doing Scratch and Dragon Cave all day and other things" and I cant explain that I DONT HAVE INSPIRATION during the day!

I stay up till 11 usually anyway