Scratch

luiysia wrote:

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.

Well yeah, like I said, this is just an overly dramatic narration of the beginning of a Pokemon game. The character moves into his new house and sets up his clock and Gamecube and leaves the house to go on a journey forever. I wanted to leave in the little details like the TV and Gamecube to make it a little more accurate.

I dont get it, what's this forum even anout

soupoftomato wrote:

PlutoIsHades wrote:

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. 

Don't get too used to him.

soupoftomato wrote:

PlutoIsHades wrote:

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. 

Don't get too used to him.

Sorry, this is a bit off-topic- what is happening in your signature? It looks hilarious! xD

On-topic-

Does anyone think I should write a story about Fangstar's Journey (Warriors animations I'm making)?

joletole wrote:

Wickimen wrote:

Chapter 2 of my scifi thing (the one about Will and Eyre) I finished, then hated and scrapped completely... here is the new Chapter 2 (untitled) thus far... (it's quite short)

    The next day dawned with a raging storm, the ocean pitching and rolling. Will woke up late, his eyes fixed upon the ceiling as he listened to the rain’s fingers drumming on the tin roof over the balcony. He had roused himself at the customary time just two hours ago, before realizing there was no purpose in doing so anymore. He lay still for a moment, reflecting. Then he pulled himself from bed and crossed his apartment to the opposite wall in a few easy strides. He shaded his eyes under the cap and peered down at the street.
    He felt certain nobody was down there, but it was hard to detect movement in the rushing rain, hard to spot a person’s shadow creeping up the sidewalk. He pulled instinctively away from the glass upon sighting a sudden movement, until he saw it was merely a discarded plastic bag, drifting, drifting, lazily tumbling in the wind.
    He relaxed and sat back down on the bed. Judging from the fact that she wasn’t hammering on his door, Eyre hadn’t bothered to rise early, either.

I like that one.

Thanks 

Chapter 2 of my scifi thing thus far
...Could someone help me make it less lame? (Particularly the last half)

    The next day dawned with a raging storm, the ocean pitching and rolling. Will woke up late, his eyes fixed upon the ceiling as he listened to the rain’s fingers drumming on the tin roof over the balcony. He had roused himself at the customary time just two hours ago, before realizing there was no purpose in doing so anymore. He lay still for a moment, reflecting. Then he pulled himself from bed and crossed his apartment to the opposite wall in a few easy strides. He shaded his eyes under the cap and peered down at the street.
    He felt certain nobody was down there, but it was hard to detect movement in the rushing rain, hard to spot a person’s shadow creeping up the sidewalk. He pulled instinctively away from the glass upon sighting a sudden movement, until he saw it was merely a discarded plastic bag, drifting, drifting, lazily tumbling in the wind.
    Will relaxed and sat back down on the bed. Judging from the fact that she wasn’t hammering on his door, Eyre hadn’t bothered to rise early, either.
    He tried to fall back to sleep again, but whenever he closed his eyes he saw the library up in flames. He turned restlessly, his fingers slipping over the edge of the bed. He didn’t feel remotely tired anymore, but he didn’t want to be awake, didn’t want to think or do anything at all. His jaw settled down on his teeth like a dead weight.
    After a while, he gave up, and, pulling his cap securely so that the brim hid his eyes from view, walked out into the hallway. Ten doors to the right, take a right turn, six more doors; he had made the trip so many times he didn’t even have to look up to know he was knocking on the right door.
    “Is that you, Will?” came Eyre’s muffled voice.
    “Yeah, it’s me.”
    “Okay. Hold on a sec.” In a moment she had the door open, the aviator’s cap stuffed on. A jagged piece of red hair stuck out from under it. By force of habit, Will glanced over his shoulder nervously, but no one was there.
    “So,” she said.
    “So,” he answered, rubbing the topmost brass button on his navy blue coat between thumb and forefinger. He did this so often that the elegant curling design of ivy had been worn away.
    Eyre tucked the rest of her hair beneath the cap and yawned hugely.
     “Well, what should we do? The library’s gone, we can’t go back to the Arcade…,” he trailed off.
    “Find somewhere else,” Eyre said. “I don’t think there’s anything else to do.”
    “I really don’t know if there is anyplace else,” Will said.
    “We’ll look. But I’m too tired to go looking right now.” Will noticed as she said this that there were dark shadows circling her eyes. “We could just stay in the apartments until breakfast. For today.”
    “Yeah.” Will’s head pounded at the thought. Perhaps there really was nowhere else safe, and they would always have to stay inside. That meant, he knew, forever; days upon days and then months and years and centuries of endless monotony, over and over and over, never ending and never changing. He knew this. And he knew those days would melt together so softly that he wouldn’t even notice at first, and then five years would go by and it wouldn’t matter, because everything was exactly the same every day. Five years was nothing—so was ten years, twenty years, fifty years, one thousand years—because any amount of time was nothing when it was part of infinity.

    They stayed inside, letting the minutes tick by, just talking idly. Will found it almost a relief when the familiar bong came from the Clock. It was time for breakfast.
    He had nearly given up, but Eyre had not. As they walked downstairs together, she began speaking quickly. The goggles covered her eyes, but he knew her well enough to visualize them blazing with enthusiasm. “I was thinking about it,” she said, “and I’ve decided that we’ll be the library.”
    “What?” He wasn’t really listening, and she didn’t make sense. His footsteps felt heavy.
    Eyre went on as though she could not hear him. “It’ll be like in Fahrenheit 451. Everyone memorized the books, right? Well, we could do that. We’ve read them for so long, haven’t we? I’m sure we’ve got them down…”
    Now he was listening. “Eyre, the books are gone. We can’t memorize them when we don’t have them there for us. It’s impossible. And anyway, even if we can, what good will it do?”
    Eyre regarded him sternly. Without her boots on, she was two inches shorter than him, but she seemed much taller. “What good will it do?” she repeated. “Maybe we can tell people about them, what’s in them, make them see that this isn’t good. Do you want this to go on forever? Because you know it will.”
    “No, but—”
    She plowed on. “It’s been like this ever since the disaster, and they’re not going to change unless the Arcade stops working, so we should speed things up a little. How about Tuck Everlasting? That’s one that will help. There’s lots of books we know about and all we’ve got to do is tell them.”
    And what if they don’t want to listen? Will wondered. Sometimes he was not sure whether he wanted to know, either. If he had had the chance to be a Usual and just play games all day forever and not worry, he might have in a heartbeat. The thought made him cringe. Eyre would never do that, he was certain, but he was unsure about himself.
    The sky was cold, flat and gray like steel and Will saw the occasional jagged rip of lightning across it, followed by a distant rumble of thunder. The ocean lurched unsteadily. Maybe one day this frequent rain would be constant, and the tumultuous sea would swallow the entire island whole, so that it would join the rest of the silent decaying world below the water.

Happy thoughts...
Edits much appreciated 
(Oh, and I took the adjective "tumultuous" out of chapter uno, so I didn't use it twice; there are some edits I did to chapter 1 that are too small to be bothered reposting the whole thing over, like the Bell is now a Clock)

Last edited by Wickimen (2012-03-13 20:41:10)

sonatina wrote:

oh my god tomato,,,
your signature. i can't-

Get on Untitled doc? 

Well, it hasn't actually gone anywhere much yet, remember, she's just talking
What if something happens to stop them 
Thanks though 
I did italicize the book titles on the word document, but was too lazy to put [i] boxes around them in posting 

Wickimen wrote:

Actually, I changed my mind
I don't like Chapter 2 past the first 3 or 4 paragraphs
I'll be rewriting that later

keep it.
keeeeeep it.
your harshest critic is yourself.
that and your mom.
haha just kidding.
but seriously.
gotta get off.
ollies out.

Ok i'm writing this off of a line in a song so gogogogogo

"You're a fool to come here you know. Especially now. "
"I had to see you. I have to leave soon. "
"You know it too. They'll be coming- you're putting us both in danger here. "
"But I have to tell you something. Before I go. "
"I don't want in your crazy schemes anymore. You've weaved yourself a right fine web of lies, all of which I am the centre of. You have to be careful of yourself, or else you'll trip over one of your lies and be caught plummeting to darkness. Or jail. Whichever comes first. "
"Funny. Now listen. They'll find us soon and I have to tell you- "
"I told you I don't want any part of this Larissa and I won't stand to be arrested-"
"I love you. "

i know it isn't that good, but please give honest feedback.

By the way: this is a short story. It ends at the end of this post, so i won't be writing more.

LOST KNOWLEDGE

1984. Coincidentally, that is the book I was reading when all of this took place.
    Reading and walking. That’s how I spent my free time.
Until, right before my eyes, a muscular man swiped the book out of my hands. I slowly looked up, somewhat startled. The man looked thirty-something, had a big mustache, and a cigar of equal size. He looked as if he was in a position of authority, though didn’t recognize him.
    I jumped up, confused, trying to retrieve the one thing that mattered to me. The man grinned slightly and lifted it up so it was out of my reach. I was now helpless.
    “Who are you, and why are you doing this?” I asked. I was surprised at myself; I wasn’t usually a talker.
    “Books are now illegal. Don’t you watch the news?”
    I shook my head. The man slowly walked away, still holding my book. I didn’t try to fight back, because something told me he was a good fighter. But more importantly, books- illegal? I shook my head in disbelief, but deep down I could tell the man spoke the truth.
    It was then that I heard lots of commotion down the next street. I sprinted down the street, worried. As I approached the sound, I noticed that the crowd was extremely dense.
    As I finally got to the street, I was surprised to see a German man with a long mustache on a small elevated space. The man carried a megaphone.
    I believed I’d seen this man somewhere before. I racked my brain. I remembered: at a dentist appointment, on a TV. Now I began to remember. This man was ruler of the world!
    You see, everyone in my time has become so focused on world peace that when this man came on TV and said he was ruler of the world, to avoid war, everyone let this go.
    The man spoke through the megaphone. “Hello, you may know me as K. I am now proud to announce that no more riots will occur, no more crime, no more wrongdoings altogether.”
    The crowd cheered wildly.
    “Because starting today, it will be illegal to read. Anyone who is caught reading anything other than the K Post (which I will explain later) will face immediate execution. I have called for you today to end your temptation of reading. We will burn every last book you have for you for free, right here and right now.
    “About the K Post I mentioned earlier: the K Post will give you none other than the truth on everything you need to know about the world. You may have the first edition of the K Post free.”
    This was an outrage!
    I charged toward the stack of burning books. As I rummaged through them, I spotted 1984!
    I grasped 1984, carrying it like a parent protecting a child. My hands were burning, but I didn’t care about anything else at that time. My only thought was that I had to keep an artifact from a once free world; in fact, a book about a fear that this might happen.
    The flames eventually settled as I sat down in my living room. I was, well… not all right. My arms were in a fixed position for such a long time; it took me a while to remember the book. After my burned hands were strong enough to turn the pages of the book, I aw what I had feared the most: several blank pages, with a half-gone phrase here or there. I couldn’t read the book, that much was obvious. But, I did notice something that gave me hope.
    On the page I had left off on, I noticed nothing but the phrase “find help”. This influenced me to write to you.
    The next day, I found a “K Post” folded up on the sidewalk. The main headline read, “ALL BOOKS ARE WRONG. THE K POST IS RIGHT.”
    The sad part about this was that not only was this atrocious writing, but I knew many people had come to believe anything that had been put in front of them. Even the handful of people like me who hunger for justice will eventually crack, after this being the only thing they read for several years. K is brainwashing our world.
    By the time I read this again, I will probably not even understand the meaning behind my point. The world is now that screwed up.

Greg
_________________________
    Greg folded the piece of paper neatly. He placed the paper in a time capsule marked, “NOT TO BE OPENED UNTIL MARCH 20, 2020.” He made a small hole in his back yard, and buried it there.
    Greg was executed a week later for reading the Bible behind his K Post, 2nd edition.
    On March 21, 2041, a man also named Greg opened the time capsule. He couldn’t understand a word written. The paper was crumpled up and thrown in a fire.
                                           THE END

Last edited by ROSMan (2012-03-14 21:08:44)

ROSMan wrote:

Up until right before my eyes

I think this has too many transitions.

I expected it to say "Up until right then" but then it was "right before my eyes". I would make it "Until, right before my eyes,"

ROSMan wrote:

bananaman114 wrote:

a)The end is a major infodump
b)you use the words "The book" in that sucession too much in the beginning
and I didn't read the rest 

@ a)what? i thought you didn't read the rest

Infodumping is when you give out to much information quickly and unnaturally in relation to the flow of the story.

Whether or not they read the rest doesn't really matter, we can assume they have.