Scratch

Wickimen wrote:

EDIT TIME EDIT TIME 
In the forest, where I am 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. The narrator hasn't been inside the treehouse, so how does he or she know what the interior is like?window ;3
    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. The flow is a little weird because you said "saw" and "seen", I don't know, I don't think they sound good together. Perhaps change it to "who must have spotted me from the window"?Good point there
    “What are you doing here?!” she screamed. She looked familiar. Maybe you could change that to "I noticed that she looked familiar"?“Wait.” Her face lightened. “Is it really you, Tracy? I haven’t seen you since seventh grade!”
    I paused for a moment I don't think she'd pause for a full minute lolol 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. But she's already in the treehouse. How about "She vanished from sight and returned with a yellow slip"?I thought I said she came out, but apparently nop “You like writing, right?” She handed me the paper. What, is she standing next to her now? If so, you never said so before, and should probably add that inSee last purple comment 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, and more. It's my personal rule never to use "etc" in a description.Ehh it was late. This is my best 1 A.M. writing but good point anyway
    “You’d really let me in?”
Clarke says earlier that she has not seen Tracy since seventh grade, implying that was a while ago, but their dialogue seems more seventh/eighth grade. Unless this is meant to show Clarke's view of time passed, and she considers about a year to be a long time.They're kids at heart, which is shown earlier in the story.
    “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 was over.
    “Thanks,” I say, barely audible.
    “I’m sorry for what I did,” she said as she got ready to leave. Wait, what? Didn't she just go back in? I'm confused. Perhaps you should make this clearer"She smiled at me before going back inside..." “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.


All in all, you did a nice job though. Suspense    I'd like to read more if you're willing to put any more upThank youuuu ;3

I'm writing The Misadventures of Marvin Cartwright 


    By some misfortune, it is the sad truth that books never have anything particularly interesting to say. Mostly, they just gripe about the days when they were young and apparently much taller, and weren’t cut up into thin sheets. Likewise, notebooks continually whine of the good old days when they didn’t have sharp curly metal things jammed down their spines. “When I was a young lad,” Marvin’s textbook would often gripe, “I was what they called a cypress tree, and I was quite poplar.” Unfortunately for Marvin, this made it rather difficult for him to concentrate on right angles and wrong angles and whatever else they were supposedly “learning” in class.
    Marvin always had to listen to the sadistic comments of scissors and screaming of freshly sharpened pencils (as well as the frequent apologies of the pencil sharpeners, who are rather sensitive beings), all day long. This proved to be a problem for him.
    Luckily for Marvin, he did find a companion in his backpack. The backpack, of course, had his faults, which consisted of rapidly consuming Marvin’s homework, but he did prove to be a pleasant-enough backpack to talk to, and whenever he was annoying Marvin could zip shut his mouth.
    Marvin had deemed long ago that his backpack was a marsupial, due to the zip-up pouches on the front. For some odd reason everyone thought this was a strange idea. Marvin couldn’t really figure out why.
    From that day on he called the backpack Marsupial.

PlutoIsHades wrote:

Wickimen wrote:

I'm writing The Misadventures of Marvin Cartwright 


    By some misfortune, it is the sad truth that books never have anything particularly interesting to say. Mostly, they just gripe about the days when they were young and apparently much taller, and weren’t cut up into thin sheets. Likewise, notebooks continually whine of the good old days when they didn’t have sharp curly metal things jammed down their spines. “When I was a young lad,” Marvin’s textbook would often gripe, “I was what they called a cypress tree, and I was quite poplar.” Unfortunately for Marvin, this made it rather difficult for him to concentrate on right angles and wrong angles and whatever else they were supposedly “learning” in class.
    Marvin always had to listen to the sadistic comments of scissors and screaming of freshly sharpened pencils (as well as the frequent apologies of the pencil sharpeners, who are rather sensitive beings), all day long. This proved to be a problem for him.
    Luckily for Marvin, he did find a companion in his backpack. The backpack, of course, had his faults, which consisted of rapidly consuming Marvin’s homework, but he did prove to be a pleasant-enough backpack to talk to, and whenever he was annoying Marvin could zip shut his mouth.
    Marvin had deemed long ago that his backpack was a marsupial, due to the zip-up pouches on the front. For some odd reason everyone thought this was a strange idea. Marvin couldn’t really figure out why.
    From that day on he called the backpack Marsupial.

That's really good!  I like the thing about the pencil sharpeners. 

Haha thanks
I like your Chapter 7 too 
Again, couldn't find any grammar stuff or anything, so I'll leave as is
It was a bit fast, but for what was happening, that fit it fine, so yeah
Good job 

PlutoIsHades wrote:

PlutoIsHades wrote:

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."

Opinions, please?

I love it! I love your entire story.    Did you ever read Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH? Yours is a little bit like it, with the advanced technology for the rats and mice. 

Alright, this is my first time creating a post on here.
Don't know what to do on here.
Guess I'll just...
Write.

Life isn't as perfect as it seems. In fact, life is just about the worst gift Nature can offer. I just wish I could settle in one place. My family is always moving, prohibiting me from ever getting attached to my peers in school.

Today, we recently moved into our new home. It was a tiny house with two stories and one bedroom. The rooms were about the size of my closet back in my old house. After taking one disapproving glance at my new living quarters, I grudgingly began to unpack my belongings. The first treasure I unearthed was my GameCube. I eagerly set it up to the TV in my room. At least my new room seemed a little like home. It was small, but I would somehow find a way to work with it.

After I had unpacked most of my possessions, I strolled downstairs into the kitchen. My mother was scrubbing the dishes furiously.
"Well, it's better than a homeless shelter. Only by a little," I sighed.
My mom abruptly ceased her work and threw a plate in my direction, narrowly missing my ear.
"Why do always complain about everything? Can't you just for once SHUT UP and deal with it? I'm trying; I'm really trying, but you're making it really difficult!" She shouted at me.
I glared at her. "You're doing a lousy job if this is the best you can do." My relationship with my mother was not exactly a peaceful one.
"Just get out. Get out my house. I don't want to see your disgusting little face ever again. GET OUT!"
Without a second glance, I opened the front door and stalked off. I didn't need that monster of a mother in my life. Walking would ease my mind.

I walked across my entire town. It occurred to me that I was lost. Lost and hungry. I slapped my forehead. My rage had made me stupid; there was no food with me. With a sigh, I lied down in the cool grass, the wind patting my cheeks like the hands of someone proud. I was just about to take a nap when a sharp voice interrupted my voice.
"It's dangerous out there! Come with me, young man." An old man tutted.
He grabbed my wrist and started dragging me to his house, despite my yelps of protests. All my instincts were telling me that this man was dangerous and that he was trying to harm me. It was too late; he had already dragged me into his house.

"Let me go, old man!" I glared at him.
"Hold on, youngster. I just want to help you." The old man retrieved an odd ball from his knapsack. "This here is a Pokeball. It contains a Pokemon, which are creatures that will protect you and befriend you. If you're going to go on a journey, you should take these."
Hesitantly, I accepted his offering. Somehow, I realized that this would change my life. I would never have to return to my she-witch of a mother. I could travel all over the world and see new sights. My life was set; I had a dream now. I wanted to be the very best.

--

Alright, so the story sucks. I basically just put it down in words. I didn't try too hard because I was too excited for the ending haha. I'll have to actually try next time...

Prolouge Of The Book I'm Writing For The Scratch News By Cartoon Creator 
Orginally it was suppose to be a sample write for cartooncreator 'cause I offered to be the weekly writer for his newpaper    Tell me if I should improve on anything Thx!
__________________________________________________________________________--

Wisps of hair brushed through her face, as the wind fiddled around with her hair. Her pale, face and body glowed in the moonlight. She sat cradled into a ball, her white hair knotty and tangled, and a glint of blue glimmered from her eyes. She heard noises approaching her, hard sturdy footsteps crunching through the grass. She sat up, alert and ready. A man appeared, in thick-soled boots and a dark brown coat. He glanced at her, and stared closely at the blood oozing from her leg, a deep painful wound. He carried her home, and let her sleep in his bed, as he watched over her. Suddenly, a heavy knock banged the wooden door, and the man opened it…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thats wht I have so far 

Thanks    I'm glad you like it    I'll be writing more soon!

sonatina wrote:

Alright, this is my first time creating a post on here.
Don't know what to do on here.
Guess I'll just...
Write.

Life isn't as perfect as it seems. In fact, life is just about the worst gift Nature can offer. I just wish I could settle in one place. My family is always moving, prohibiting me from ever getting attached to my peers in school.

Today, we recently moved into our new home. It was a tiny house with two stories and one bedroom. The rooms were about the size of my closet back in my old house. After taking one disapproving glance at my new living quarters, I grudgingly began to unpack my belongings. The first treasure I unearthed was my GameCube. I eagerly set it up to the TV in my room. At least my new room seemed a little like home. It was small, but I would somehow find a way to work with it.

After I had unpacked most of my possessions, I strolled downstairs into the kitchen. My mother was scrubbing the dishes furiously.
"Well, it's better than a homeless shelter. Only by a little," I sighed.
My mom abruptly ceased her work and threw a plate in my direction, narrowly missing my ear.
"Why do always complain about everything? Can't you just for once SHUT UP and deal with it? I'm trying; I'm really trying, but you're making it really difficult!" She shouted at me.
I glared at her. "You're doing a lousy job if this is the best you can do." My relationship with my mother was not exactly a peaceful one.
"Just get out. Get out my house. I don't want to see your disgusting little face ever again. GET OUT!"
Without a second glance, I opened the front door and stalked off. I didn't need that monster of a mother in my life. Walking would ease my mind.

I walked across my entire town. It occurred to me that I was lost. Lost and hungry. I slapped my forehead. My rage had made me stupid; there was no food with me. With a sigh, I lied down in the cool grass, the wind patting my cheeks like the hands of someone proud. I was just about to take a nap when a sharp voice interrupted my voice.
"It's dangerous out there! Come with me, young man." An old man tutted.
He grabbed my wrist and started dragging me to his house, despite my yelps of protests. All my instincts were telling me that this man was dangerous and that he was trying to harm me. It was too late; he had already dragged me into his house.

"Let me go, old man!" I glared at him.
"Hold on, youngster. I just want to help you." The old man retrieved an odd ball from his knapsack. "This here is a Pokeball. It contains a Pokemon, which are creatures that will protect you and befriend you. If you're going to go on a journey, you should take these."
Hesitantly, I accepted his offering. Somehow, I realized that this would change my life. I would never have to return to my she-witch of a mother. I could travel all over the world and see new sights. My life was set; I had a dream now. I wanted to be the very best.

--

Alright, so the story sucks. I basically just put it down in words. I didn't try too hard because I was too excited for the ending haha. I'll have to actually try next time...

I like it, but I would have gone in a different direction with the old man.

sonatina wrote:

imnotbob wrote:

sonatina wrote:

Alright, this is my first time creating a post on here.
Don't know what to do on here.
Guess I'll just...
Write.

Life isn't as perfect as it seems. In fact, life is just about the worst gift Nature can offer. I just wish I could settle in one place. My family is always moving, prohibiting me from ever getting attached to my peers in school.

Today, we recently moved into our new home. It was a tiny house with two stories and one bedroom. The rooms were about the size of my closet back in my old house. After taking one disapproving glance at my new living quarters, I grudgingly began to unpack my belongings. The first treasure I unearthed was my GameCube. I eagerly set it up to the TV in my room. At least my new room seemed a little like home. It was small, but I would somehow find a way to work with it.

After I had unpacked most of my possessions, I strolled downstairs into the kitchen. My mother was scrubbing the dishes furiously.
"Well, it's better than a homeless shelter. Only by a little," I sighed.
My mom abruptly ceased her work and threw a plate in my direction, narrowly missing my ear.
"Why do always complain about everything? Can't you just for once SHUT UP and deal with it? I'm trying; I'm really trying, but you're making it really difficult!" She shouted at me.
I glared at her. "You're doing a lousy job if this is the best you can do." My relationship with my mother was not exactly a peaceful one.
"Just get out. Get out my house. I don't want to see your disgusting little face ever again. GET OUT!"
Without a second glance, I opened the front door and stalked off. I didn't need that monster of a mother in my life. Walking would ease my mind.

I walked across my entire town. It occurred to me that I was lost. Lost and hungry. I slapped my forehead. My rage had made me stupid; there was no food with me. With a sigh, I lied down in the cool grass, the wind patting my cheeks like the hands of someone proud. I was just about to take a nap when a sharp voice interrupted my voice.
"It's dangerous out there! Come with me, young man." An old man tutted.
He grabbed my wrist and started dragging me to his house, despite my yelps of protests. All my instincts were telling me that this man was dangerous and that he was trying to harm me. It was too late; he had already dragged me into his house.

"Let me go, old man!" I glared at him.
"Hold on, youngster. I just want to help you." The old man retrieved an odd ball from his knapsack. "This here is a Pokeball. It contains a Pokemon, which are creatures that will protect you and befriend you. If you're going to go on a journey, you should take these."
Hesitantly, I accepted his offering. Somehow, I realized that this would change my life. I would never have to return to my she-witch of a mother. I could travel all over the world and see new sights. My life was set; I had a dream now. I wanted to be the very best.

--

Alright, so the story sucks. I basically just put it down in words. I didn't try too hard because I was too excited for the ending haha. I'll have to actually try next time...

I like it, but I would have gone in a different direction with the old man.

Like what? Yours is probably interesting.

I'd have him be a deranged lunatic. Or maybe a crazy man that could actually help if you learn to put up with him.

Last edited by imnotbob (2012-03-11 14:45:53)

Poetry > Prose

Oh :p

sonatina wrote:

Today, we recently moved into our new home. It was a tiny house with two stories and one bedroom. The rooms were about the size of my closet back in my old house. After taking one disapproving glance at my new living quarters, I grudgingly began to unpack my belongings. The first treasure I unearthed was my GameCube. I eagerly set it up to the TV in my room.

Wow! This guy's life is so tragic that he has a TV IN HIS ROOM!

OK, that part really bothered me. Otherwise, I thought it was a fairly good story, especially if you just wrote it.

soupoftomato wrote:

If anyone cares, I'm writing a bit at Mr. Brown (variably changing suffix for fun here) and would love help with critique, editing, and plot ideas.

It's good, and I can't wait to see what's gonna happen!  I like Mr. Brown(the character) already.