Scratch

ROSMan wrote:

bananaman114 wrote:

The end is a major infodump
I didn't read the rest

just out of curiosity, how do you think the book will end, without looking?
I want to improve my story as much as possible.

I read the first and last paragraph. That's all. Time to read it!!!

Well your story is very good 
but it could be written better
I don't wnat to nitpick rightnow

I think everybody will die
the end

Wickimen wrote:

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)

Ooh, interesting!  I specifically like the "nothing when they're part of infinity" part.
I'm not sure if this is what Eyre is thinking, but if they have some of the books memorized they could write them down for themselves.

@Wicki
You know I never read the whole of anything but there's something that caught my eye in that chapter
"Whenever he closed his eyes he saw the library up in flames"
perhaps a good excuse to be descriptive? 

PlutoIsHades wrote:

Part of a Greek-god based story that I'm writing.  Opinions, please!

One

    My dad is Hades.
    Yep.  My name is Xylon, and my father is the great Hades.  Well, to be honest, he's not so great.
    "Xylon?" asked my mother, Persephone, one day, as we plodded down the dimly lit passageway.  Okay, I guess I better explain something.  She's not really my mother.  Dad says my real mom is one of the countless spirits down in the fields of Asphodel.  It's a kind of creepy thought, that I'm half dead.  Mom took me in, because ''he's a kid, too, and needs someone to look after him.''
    "Yeah?"
    She nodded in greeting to Hermes, who was escorting a family down from the Living World to the Underworld.  He waved.
    "Xy, I'm sure you've heard of Tartarus?"
    I nodded.
    "You know never to go anywhere near it, right?"
    "Yes, Mom.  Why would I go down there anyway?"
    "Because you love to explore and adventure.  Ah, here we are."
    The passage had been slowly sloping up, and now we reached the end of it.  A heavy black door was set in the dark stone hallway.  Through the grate, I could see a shaft of daylight.  I squinted my eyes against the bright glare.
    Mom undid the latch and pulled open the door, stepping into the brilliant daylight.  She shaded her eyes, and a smile lit her pretty face.  She loved the sunlight, which didn't exist in the Underworld.
    The grass was long and brown and broken, the flowers wilted.  A drop of cold snow dripped from a flower petal.
    The sunlight nearly blinded me as we walked out into the flower-filled, long-grassed field.  My hands flew to cover my eyes, but I gradually adjusted as I peered between my fingers.  My hands dropped to my sides.
    Mom took my hand in hers and led me across the brown hills.  As she did, she bent down and brushed her hand over the dead grass.  I watched as the plants rose up slowly, the green and life returned to them.  I smiled.  Life...it rarely existed in the Underworld.  My parents were the only really living things.  Me, well, I'm not quite sure.
    Before our eyes, a shimmering staircase appeared!  It glittered and shone, not quite transparent, but not solid, with all the colors of the rainbow glittering in it.
    My mother began to climb the steps.  I pulled my hand from hers and dusted off my white tunic.  It was clean, but I still felt Underworld-dirty.  This was my first time going to Olympus.  I had bathed, smoothed my hair, and put on a clean tunic, as per Mom's instructions.  But my gray-tinted skin unsettled me, made me feel dirty.
    "Come on, Xy." Mom's voice broke through my thoughts.  I looked up at her.  Persephone, the beautiful woman, daughter of Demeter, the pretty goddess.
    Xylon, son of Hades.  The ugly, dirty demigod.
    Hey, alliteration!
    Mom came down to the lowest step.  She put a hand under my chin and moved my head so I was looking into her eyes. "It's okay.  Don't be afraid.  You're twelve, you'll be fine.  I'll be there, too."
    She took my hand and led me up the stairs.  Nervousness like I'd never before known pumped in my veins.  I tried to keep pace with Mom.  Left, right, left, right.  I stumbled and fell, my face landing on the stair.  Strange thing was, it didn't hurt, just bent inward like a cloth, with all the softness of velvet.
    Mom helped me up and we continued up the stairs.  At the top lay a door, made of the same shimmery material as the stairs.  A satyr guarded the door.  He smiled and bowed to my mother, opening the door.
    My first glimpse of Mt. Olympus stunned me.  Pathways led to giant castle-like buildings, a gentle breeze, a perfect breeze, swept through my grayish-black hair.  But the most stunning thing, by far, was the largest castle.  Like a giant sentinel, it stood, like a father guarding his children.  It was made of nothing but the finest silver, alabaster columns stretching up to the roof far above.
    Mom pointed to the castle. "That's Zeus' palace."
    "Do we have to, like, check in with him or something?"
    Mom shook her head. "He knows we're here.  You'll met him later.  First, we go to my mother, Demeter."
    She took my hand and we traveled down a twisting side path.  It went father back than the other paths, leading to a small, secluded house.  It couldn't even be classified as a castle.  Literally, a house.  Vines and plants grew all over the rough log walls, twisting into a thatched roof.  Gardens grew by the sides, growing all sorts of plants.  Trees hid it almost from sight.
    The wooden door creaked open, and a woman walked onto the path.  Her hair was long and brown, twisted back into a ponytail.  Her clothing was made from simple wool, her feet bare.  A smile lit her pretty face.  I realized this must be Demeter, my mother's mother.
    "Persephone!" she called.  Mom dropped my hand and ran to greet her, and they hugged.  I smiled.
    Demeter steeped back and looked at me. "I'm guessing this is is Xylon?  Your son?"
    I nodded. "Hello, um, your Majesty."
    Demeter burst out laughing. "Ha!  None of that 'Majesty' stuff, Xy.  You can call me Demeter, or Grandma, or whatever you want to."
    I nodded. "Sorry, Demeter." It didn't feel right to call such a young-looking woman 'Grandma.'
    "Come inside," said Demeter, gesturing for us to follow inside her house.  I stepped into a log-cabin type house.  There was none of the electricity Mom said mortals had mastered.  The light poured through a few glass windows, landing on a table, on two simple beds near the windows.  It was patterned by vines across the outside of the windows.
    This was the complete opposite of the Underworld I'd lived in for thirteen years, and yet it was more home than anything I'd ever felt.

oh golly this is impressive.
i kind of get a percy jackson impression but that's to be expected since it took over the entire meaning of demigods and greek mythology.
one thing is you wrote "you'll met him later." when Xylon asked about Zeus.
Also, I advise writing about the olympus trip somewhere in the beginning. It seemed a bit too sudden with Persephone leading Xylon to the surface and here we are a random staircase okay let's go to olympus. Maybe you can start the story about how excited or nervous Xylon is or something? Otherwise, I think it's perfect!

bananaman114 wrote:

@Wicki
You know I never read the whole of anything but there's something that caught my eye in that chapter
"Whenever he closed his eyes he saw the library up in flames"
perhaps a good excuse to be descriptive? 

Yeah haha, I feel I always overdescribe stuff and I'm boring people
But if you think it would fit better there, I might edit that up 

@Pluto
Thankies 
I actually deleted all of that chapter except for the first 4 or 5 paragraphs, but I'll be rewriting in some of the scenes that I liked later on

What banana and sona said
Also to add my stuff 

PlutoIsHades wrote:

Part of a Greek-god based story that I'm writing.  Opinions, please!

One

    My dad is Hades. Abrupt beginning, but I guess it makes you want to go further in, so it works.
    Yep.  My name is Xylon, and my father is the great Hades.  Well, to be honest, he's not so great.
    This needs some sort of transition "Xylon?" asked my mother, Persephone, one day, as we plodded down the dimly lit passageway.  Okay, I guess I better explain something.  She's not really my mother.  Dad says my real mom is one of the countless spirits down in the fields of Asphodel.  It's a kind of creepy thought, that I'm half dead.  Mom took me in, because ''he's a kid, too, and needs someone to look after him.'' Good paragraph overall
    "Yeah?"
    She nodded in greeting to Hermes, who was escorting a family down from the Living World to the Underworld.  He waved.
    "Xy, I'm sure you've heard of Tartarus?"
    I nodded. Well, yes, living in the underworld.
    "You know never to go anywhere near it, right?"
    "Yes, Mom.  Why would I go down there anyway?"
    "Because you love to explore and adventure.  Perhaps you could add something like, "and sometimes I worry you might..." then she is cut off as she says: Ah, here we are."
    The passage had been slowly sloping up, and now we had reached the end of it.  A heavy black door was set in the dark stone hallway.  Through the grate, I could see a shaft of daylight.  I squinted my eyes against the bright glare.
    Mom undid the latch and pulled open the door, stepping into the brilliant daylight.  She shaded her eyes, and a smile lit her pretty face.  She loved the sunlight, which didn't exist in the Underworld.
    The grass was long and brown and broken, the flowers wilted.  A drop of cold snow dripped from a flower petal. goodgood
    The sunlight nearly blinded me as we walked out into the flower-filled, long-grassed field.  Perhaps some way of describing it rather than "flower-filled, and "long-grassed"... how about "flowers were scattered heavily through the high grass of the field" or something? My hands flew to cover my eyes, but as I gradually adjusted as I peered between my fingers, my hands dropped to my sides.
    Mom took my hand in hers and led me across the brown hills.  As she did, she bent down and brushed her hand over the dead grass.  I watched as the plants rose up slowly, the green and life returned to them.  I smiled.  Life...it rarely existed in the Underworld.  My parents were the only really living things.  Me, well, I'm not quite sure.
    Before our eyes, a shimmering staircase appeared!  It glittered and shone, not quite transparent, but not solid, with all the colors of the rainbow glittering in it.
    My mother began to climb the steps.  I pulled my hand from hers and dusted off my white tunic.  It was clean, but I still felt Underworld-dirty.  This was my first time going to Olympus.  I had bathed, smoothed my hair, and put on a clean tunic, as per Mom's instructions.  But my gray-tinted skin unsettled me, made me feel dirty. Very good paragraph, but maybe you could change the second "dirty" to idk "tainted" or some such synonym
    "Come on, Xy." Mom's voice broke through my thoughts.  I looked up at her.  Persephone, the beautiful woman, daughter of Demeter, the pretty goddess.
    Xylon, son of Hades.  The ugly, dirty demigod.
    Hey, alliteration! xD
    Mom came down to the lowest step.  She put a hand under my chin and moved my head so I was looking into her eyes. "It's okay.  Don't be afraid.  You're twelve, you'll be fine.  I'll be there, too."
    She took my hand and led me up the stairs.  Nervousness like I'd never before known pumped in my veins.  I tried to keep pace with Mom.  Left, right, left, right.  I stumbled and fell, my face landing on the stair.  Strange thing was, it didn't hurt, just bent inward like a cloth, with all the softness of velvet.
    Mom helped me up and we continued up the stairs.  At the top lay a door, made of the same shimmery material as the stairs.  A satyr guarded the door.  He smiled and bowed to my mother, opening the door.
    My first glimpse of Mt. Olympus stunned me.  Pathways led to giant castle-like buildings, a gentle breeze, a perfect breeze, swept through my grayish-black hair.  But the most stunning thing, by far, was the largest castle.  Like a giant sentinel, it stood, like a father guarding his children.  It was made of nothing but the finest silver, alabaster columns stretching up to the roof far above. nice imageryness
    Mom pointed to the castle. "That's Zeus's palace."
    "Do we have to, like, check in with him or something?"
    Mom shook her head. "He knows we're here.  You'll meet him later.  First, we go to my mother, Demeter."
    She took my hand and we traveled down a twisting side path.  It went father back than the other paths, leading to a small, secluded house.  It couldn't even be classified as a castle.  Literally, a house.  Vines and plants grew all over the rough log walls, twisting into a thatched roof.  Gardens grew by the sides, growing all sorts of plants.  Trees hid it almost from sight.
    The wooden door creaked open, and a woman walked onto the path.  Her hair was long and brown, twisted back into a ponytail.  Her clothing was made from simple wool, her feet bare.  A smile lit her pretty face. I like this description, but you also used it for describing the Mom character (Persephone); consider changing I realized this must be Demeter, my mother's mother.
    "Persephone!" she called.  Mom dropped my hand and ran to greet her, and they hugged.  I smiled.
    Demeter steeped back and looked at me. "I'm guessing this is is Xylon?  Your son?"
    I nodded. "Hello, um, your Majesty."
    Demeter burst out laughing. "Ha!  None of that 'Majesty' stuff, Xy.  You can call me Demeter, or Grandma, or whatever you want to."
    I nodded. "Sorry, Demeter." It didn't feel right to call such a young-looking woman 'Grandma.'
    "Come inside," said Demeter, gesturing for us to follow inside her house.  I stepped into a log-cabin type house.  There was none of the electricity Mom said mortals had mastered.  The light poured through a few glass windows, landing on a table, on two simple beds near the windows.  It was patterned by vines across the outside of the windows.
    This was the complete opposite of the Underworld I'd lived in for nearly thirteen years, and yet it was more home than anything I'd ever felt.

All in all, I liked it a lot 
It makes me want to read more

should I continue writing short things or should I write one longer thing?

Wickimen wrote:

bananaman114 wrote:

should I continue writing short things or should I write one longer thing?

One longer thing
Particularly that one with the field :3

like I explained earlier
it's in the bottom of a box
which for the record is right beside me at the moment

Wickimen wrote:

bananaman114 wrote:

Wickimen wrote:

One longer thing
Particularly that one with the field :3

like I explained earlier
it's in the bottom of a box
which for the record is right beside me at the moment

(Crazy idea: open the box)

It's not closed
it's just FULL of stuff

Wickimen wrote:

bananaman114 wrote:

Wickimen wrote:

(Crazy idea: open the box)

It's not closed
it's just FULL of stuff

Take the other stuff out then

But that would imply MANUAL LABOR
which you know I'm not fond of

Wickimen wrote:

bananaman114 wrote:

Wickimen wrote:

Take the other stuff out then

But that would imply MANUAL LABOR
which you know I'm not fond of

D:

I'll get it..
after this song..
eventually
I PROMISE WICKI
I WILL DO THIS
:>
huh it wasn;t actually at the bottom who knew 

Last edited by bananaman114 (2012-03-15 20:45:13)

Next chapter of my story!

Two

    Spring warmed, changing into summer.  The air even up on Olympus changed, slightly more humid, but hotter. 
    That day I was playing hide-and-seek with a satyr boy and two nymph girls.  The satyr was named Theron, the nymphs named Amyntas and Evadne.  Theron was the oldest, about fourteen.  Amyntas was roughly my own age, and her sister Evadne was eleven.
    Theron was it.  I crouched at the side of Athena's castle, hiding in the shade.  I felt myself meld into the shadows, becoming one with the darkness.  It's a strange power I have: the ability to melt into shadows and darkness and become invisible.  It feels very odd, like my very flesh is becoming inextricably intertwined with the darkness.  As though I am the darkness. 
    Perfect for hide-and-seek.  Through the dark haze that clouds my eyes when I become shadowed, I saw Theron creeping past.  He turned his head and stared directly at me.  I stayed motionless, hoping he wouldn't see me.  Blinking, he shook his head and carried on through the alley between Athena and Apollo's castles. 
   
    I looked back over my shoulder, at the dozen castles circling Olympus.  The autumn wind tousled my grayish hair.  Theron, Amyntas, and Evadne stood there.  Amyntas' arm was resting over her sister's shoulders.  All three waved at me, and I waved back.
    "See ya next spring!" I called, but already I couldn't wait for that time to come. 

    The six months I had to spend in the Underworld was disaster.  The hot, clammy air seemed to press down on me, the world toneless.  Whenever I tried to push through the hordes of souls, they stared at me, expressionless, with dead black eyes.
    Even the heroes in Elysium didn't interest me.  Usually I loved listening to heroes like Achilles and Martin Luther King tell me about their adventures in life.  But they had never been to Olympus, had never experienced the happiness of seeing life for the first time.
    For hours, I would sit and stare up at the grayness forming a type of ceiling, wondering about Theron, Amyntas, and Evadne.  I imagined Theron trying to act cool and calling everybody "dude," Amyntas climbing all the olive trees, and Evadne helping Demeter tend the plants around Olympus.  They were the only true friends I'd ever had.