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Atnis

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Who Loves to Write?

Share some short stories, I have another one that is finished that I will post up soon. This is my newest one which is far from being anywhere near finished. I just wanted to know if it is good enough to grab your attention, or a stinker. You decide. I'm only going to take criticism from those who write, because my instincts tell me that the rest of you philers will be crude. I warn you, the story ends abruptly. I'm still tinkering with what I want next.

Share your writing!

Raindrops

His mind raced, a thousand different scenarios sparked to life. As if there were a thousand different versions of him all attempting to achieve one ending in a thousand different ways. But not one succeeded. He made a decision to not give up. Not yet because he despised the outcome. One outstanding characteristic about him stood out from the rest. He was fickle.
Greg Sanders was at the early adulthood age of twenty-one. And he used to live in a home. But he has quit that place, for now.
In his mind he entered that house once again. On a desk in a deserted room rested a letter, handwritten by and for only one person:

In an unrealistic attempt to change my life, I will force myself to do what I am afraid of. I will put myself into situations where self-logic will ultimately fail.
I believe that if I had said those words aloud that people would label me insane. But then again, innovation and great things can come from insanity: From switching angles of perspective, even slightly.
My personal goal is to find happiness. And to find the person who has eluded me for so long.

He could remember every word he wrote. It was etched on his mind. A sudden cold breeze caused him to stir. He was hearing a familiar sound again. Traffic. All around him was traffic. He could not escape the sound if he tried. It was beside him, it was under him. Without any warning he was pulled back into the real world.
Greg was encased in a Plexiglas structure, a bus stop. What was odd about this bus stop was its location. Ironically it was in a place where no bus could actually stop. It was resting atop a concrete structure twenty feet above ground level and the only way to scale yourself up was with use of the built-in ladder, which were metal poles imbedded into the concrete.
It came with quite a view as well. In every direction laid streets. Highways and exits interspersed around him. To Greg it was now mundane, yesterday it was beautiful. The realization of this stirred him up inside. A moment of weakness engulfed him and he gave in. Now that note he had wrote was foolish, a silly child's game. He wasn't a child anymore. It was time for him to concede to society.
He lived in America, the land of freedom. He wasn't so sure of that anymore. A barely noticeable noise interrupted the buzzing of the vehicles. It was his cell phone. He regretted not leaving it back at his old home. He recognized the number on the ID to be his friend Matt and answered despite his current mood.
"Hello?" Greg opened.
"Hello?" His friend paused and sounded confused, "Hello?"
Greg hung up. There wasn't a possibility of carrying a conversation with the nearby calamity. He decided that when he found a quieter environment he would call back.
He thought of Matt while laying back on the bench at the bus stop. He was abandoning a lot of things, but he couldn't do that to his friend.

Crunchy

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I like to write, but I don't do it as often as I should.

Atnis

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My writing comes in small patches. I love to do it but finding motivation is quite difficult for me. I don't know why that is exactly...

Neo Atlantis

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I can relate Atnis. While I do possess a passion for writing, I am more or less at a loss whenever I wish to actually go about writing something. What topic should I address? What style should I employ? Love-hate is the only way I can sufficiently describe my passion for writing.

Also, your story is fine. With some tweaking in regards to phraseology and so forth, it could be something special. I will try to write something later.
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tell me bout this "story"...

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Which inspired me to create the alter ego of Neo Atlantis.

Green Crayons

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Atnis: You might want to elongate your sentence structure. (Admittedly) skimming it over, almost each sentence is merely a snippit of thought and idea and it gives the whole piece a very blocky, forced read. You generally want the exposition and story to flow from one thought and description to the next. Quick example:

Greg Sanders was at the early adulthood age of twenty-one. And he used to live in a home. But he has quit that place, for now.

Greg Sanders was at the early adulthood age of twenty-one. He used to live at home, but he has quit that place for now.

As a side note: "adulthood age?" I don't see the point of adding "adulthood" in that it doesn't really fit or make much sense in terms of use - you wouldn't use adulthood, but adult - so maybe you were going for something else here and it just isn't coming across correctly; but even then, adult seems to be a bit redundant.. as if you were simply looking for any adjective to spice up the writing but sort of just missing the mark.
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p-0man

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After reading it, I must say that it has a unique premise. Also, why is there a bus stop on the roof of a building? You should immediately explain that or make its mysterious location more important.

As Green Crayons said, spice up your sentence structure; you're not writing a film noir story. And don't use 2nd person with a 3rd person perspective ever

gunshow21

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Writing is an elusive form of language that has, unbeknowst to its supporters, evolved nearly every year of its existence. It's fragility is taken for granted as words are led to their gallows before the leaves have changed their fluctuating color. Yet, our ammunition is rapidly withering, exquisite and eloquent descriptions are missed in a world of simplicity and unsophistication.

Meh, writing sucks ball dude.
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Paul Weller

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I'm a writer. Here's a piece of flash fiction I wrote. It's all I could write about the situation in ten sentences.

Rippled by a Finished Glass
By Christian Rovou
"I've lost it."
He lay there on his mattress with a blade as he fell deeper, sinking into his own loneliness and isolation. Excitement filled his eyes and adrenaline dripped from his mouth. This complemented the fear (which brought his soul here in the first place) just as dragging some slut off and having a taste of the goods complemented his spirits on one of the many weeknight binges out in the concrete jungle.
He took a breath and proceeded to sit up, placing the blade on the scuffed dresser that held his collection of CD's, various pieces of currency scattered about, a few glass pipes, letters from his long-ago lady, photographs with his father, as well as his father's copy of The Beatles self-titled album, autographed by the one and only George Harrison.
"Is this all a ****ing dream or what?" he asked out to the open-air in a shallow sigh, but nobody was listening anyway, so why bother speak louder?
He poured some low-grade whiskey into a glass, took a sip, and placed it into his lap. A tear fell from his eye creating a ripple in his drink— he finished the glass.
"This is for you God," he said with a minor chuckle, as he picked the blade back up.
He hesitated and stared at the reflection of his eyes before he closed them and finally let his hopes flow out of his arm until he fell into an unconscious daze that he found necessary to make his mind infinite.
- the end

I also wrote a villanelle to complement the work too. The narrator is the same.

Red All Over
By Christian Rovou

In this black and white world my soul glows red
Like blood flowing quickly and with delight
The rushing, gushing, shedding from my head

How do I answer a question that's dead?
I could try forever, I won't be right
In this black and white world my soul glows red

I've been told that the way is straight ahead
What I see, though, has only helped incite
The rushing, gushing, shedding from my head

Dreams are unreal, mine best remain unsaid
Reality: Kill, compete, win the fight
In this black and white world my soul glows red

Is he watching? Should I be blind instead?
No, **** it, who's to say he's the white light?
The rushing, gushing, shedding from my head

My mind is hungry and my soul's unfed
Although all seems apparently alright
In this black and white world my soul glows red
The rushing, gushing, shedding from my head
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Pandas_UNITE

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here is an exerpt of a story ive been writing.

Words could not explain the pain he felt at that moment. So I want you to pretend they do, because this is a story, and its supposed to convey emotion very well. But it can't, that's how in pain he was as he saw Fast and the Furious 3 TOKYO DRIFT.
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matz8916

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your such a liar pandas this is not your writing

Pandas_UNITE

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wat the hell, quit calling me a liar, i wrote that months ago, its apart of my series of stories called "THE VIN DIESEL CHRONOCLES"
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matz8916

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i'll stop calling you a liar when you start telling the truth. Your words of treason disgust me.

Paul Weller

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For the record, my writing usually is more humorous. Rarely that dark
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We're all just hapless victims of knowledge and learning and such
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KEVIN
I dropped out of college in 98, my parents really had alot of faith in me, especially my dad, I guess when I came back home, its what killed him.

INT. KEVIN'S PARENTS LIVING ROOM 1998
Kevin's dad is sitting down sipping coffee reading the newspaper when the phone rings. He picks up.

KEVIN'S DAD
Hello
VOICE ON OTHER END OF PHONE
Yes is this the father of Kevin Ollinger's?
KEVIN'S DAD
Yes, speaking?
VOICE ON OTHER END OF PHONE
My name is Joseph Twibbledee from the county hospital. Your son was killed in a freak potato carving accident.

Kevin's dad grabs his heart and plops back on his lazy-boy.

INT. SMALL DORM ROOM
A phone cord lays on the ground and the man on the phone is none other then Charlie with Jack listening in.

JACK
O god, do you think he bought it?
CHARLIE
Nah I think he knew it was us, if I got a call saying my son died I'd have like a heart attack though.
JACK
You have a son?
CHARLIE
Noo you moron it was theoretical...I would never have children, they are loud, obnoxious and can't take care of themselves. off topic, can you call your mom and tell her to send another batch of that chicken and rice?

heres an exerpt from a script i wrote, there is better more original scenes, but im honestly afraid one of you would take it.
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p-0man
...you're not writing a film noir story.

What, are you dense? Are you retarded or something? Who the hell do you think he is? He's the goddamn Batman.
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Shortdude123
For the record, my writing usually is more humorous. Rarely that dark

I was about to ask what the hell was wrong with you.

I've written like two stories. One of them kind of sucks. The others horribly long, and i had to imitate J.D. Salinger, so it's way too similar to the Catcher in the Rye. But that was the point.

Im an okay writer though.
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matz8916

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Pandas_UNITE
KEVIN
I dropped out of college in 98, my parents really had alot of faith in me, especially my dad, I guess when I came back home, its what killed him.

INT. KEVIN'S PARENTS LIVING ROOM 1998
Kevin's dad is sitting down sipping coffee reading the newspaper when the phone rings. He picks up.

KEVIN'S DAD
Hello
VOICE ON OTHER END OF PHONE
Yes is this the father of Kevin Ollinger's?
KEVIN'S DAD
Yes, speaking?
VOICE ON OTHER END OF PHONE
My name is Joseph Twibbledee from the county hospital. Your son was killed in a freak potato carving accident.

Kevin's dad grabs his heart and plops back on his lazy-boy.

INT. SMALL DORM ROOM
A phone cord lays on the ground and the man on the phone is none other then Charlie with Jack listening in.

JACK
O god, do you think he bought it?
CHARLIE
Nah I think he knew it was us, if I got a call saying my son died I'd have like a heart attack though.
JACK
You have a son?
CHARLIE
Noo you moron it was theoretical...I would never have children, they are loud, obnoxious and can't take care of themselves. off topic, can you call your mom and tell her to send another batch of that chicken and rice?

heres an exerpt from a script i wrote, there is better more original scenes, but im honestly afraid one of you would take it.

i found the potat0 part funny because it reminded me of a "tetesaclaques" episode (french comical skit with like play puppEtz). Other than that, I think you should keep your day job.

Pandas_UNITE

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haha, i plan to, its got alot of great scenes, just their way to original.
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matz8916

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i'm sure they're just as original as ebaumsworld.

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there is a guy effing a pizza...but no...go to hell.
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matz8916

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lol, i'll go back to pissing off anbesol. I'll B coolio with you now, like old times.

objection

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~Chapter 1 : Ulala's Swinging Report Show~

Ulala slowly drifted through space in her space pod. Filming for Space Channel 5 had completed for the day and she was wondering what she was going to do for the rest of the night. Dinner with Jaguar, perhaps? "Pfft, Jaguar is a fake," she thought. "All he wants to do is **** and ****... I need a man that cares about me and my feelings." Ulala let out a deep sigh and stared into the twilight.

In the distance Ulala saw a shooting star. "I wish for a knight in shining armor to whisk me away from this mess." She paused, smiled, and said, "He also needs to have a massive cock that will give me extreme pleasure at any hour of the day. So big, I can get wet just thinking about it penetrating my tight, glistening pussy." Ulala chuckled and didn't think much of it for the rest of the night.

The next morning, sun poured in through the window of Ulala's bedroom. She was lying on top of her covers, with her pink hair completely frazzled after a long night's sleep. She was awoken by frantic knocks on her front door. Ulala shot out of bed, threw on a pair of her loosest sweat pants, and began running downstairs to her front door. She opened the door slightly and peaked her head through the crack to discover Space Michael standing there, so out of breath he could barely talk. "Michael!" She opened the door more to let him in, and Michael froze. He spotted Ulala wearing nothing but her sweat pants and a nearly see-through tank top that cut right below her pouting breasts. Her nipples were rock-solid and peaking through her tank top just enough so that their bright red disposition was almost perfectly visible. Space Michael blushed and looked away. Ulala noticed his discomfort and said, "Oh! Don't worry about this. Here, I'll throw this shirt on if it makes you feel better." She grabbed a silk t-shirt off of a nearby chair and slipped into it. "Thank you Ulala," said Space Michael. "Thank you so much."

Ulala grabbed a chair for Michael to sit down so he could catch his breath. After he was feeling back up to snuff, Ulala asked him what the problem was. "There is... something out there. A beast." "A beast?!" asked Ulala, curiously. "Yes. It's some kind of plant-like monster that shoots razor-sharp flowers at anything it sees." Michael turned on Space Channel 5 for coverage. The Morolian was explaining how this monster was ravaging the city in which Ulala lived. Suddenly, Ulala and Michael began to hear cries and screams coming from down the block. Ulala peaked out of her window and saw a gigantic plant monster in the distance, just as Michael has described.

"Oh my God!" Ulala exclaimed. "What are we going to do, Michael?" "The only thing we can do," replied Michael, "we're going to have to fight it ourselves. The police, the army, the navy, the coast guards, the N.R.A., the boy scouts – no one can't handle this monster. Only we can."

Without a second thought, Ulala strapped on her jet-pack, her gun, and her dancing boots, and was out of the front door. Michael was running behind her, trying to keep up. Ulala and Michael pushed through the crowds of screaming people running in the opposite direction. One of the running men grabbed Ulala and yelled, "Ulala you can't fight it! It's too dangerous!" He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "It's got... tentacles." He let go of her and continued running away from the disaster. Ulala felt moistness begin to spread through her panties. "Oh no," she thought. "Not here. Not now." Ulala pressed on but all she could think about was the plant's nimble tentacles tickling her swelling clit from every direction. It became harder for her to run as her legs began to tighten. As she approached the monster, she saw exactly what the man was talking about. The plant had four tentacles what wriggled quickly. Just the thought of them vibrating all at once in her pussy made her so wet, the front of her sweats began to dampen. Ulala stopped dead and just kept fantasizing. "What's wrong?" asked Michael. "Let's go!" Ulala tried to pull herself together and started approaching the monster. They were close now.

Ulala began to draw her gun from leg, when the plant monster noticed her. The monster took his front two tentacles and grabbed Ulala. It lifted Ulala up about a hundred feet and suspended her there. All she could see now was a flurry of flowers and leaves. The plant queried, "well now, what do we have here? A miserable human, trying to reduce my plans to mere foilage? I think not." Space Michael was on the ground, trying to attack the plant with his laser gun, but the shots ricocheted off of the plant like a light beam off a mirror. The plant swiped Michael into a building with such force, he crashed through the front wall and was rendered unconscious. "Now, as for you. You are quite heroic. It's a shame good girls finish last." He thought for a second, and then decided what he was going to do. "I've got it. I'm going to give you the greatest pleasure you have ever received in your life. You'll be caught up in so much passion that you will die from the excitement."

The plant monster began to move in with its two free tentacles. Ulala lifted her legs up and closed them in front of her pussy as tight as she could. The tentacles reached her and began to work their way through her clenched legs, starting from her ankles. Eventually they penetrated and began to wriggle rapidly inside of her still-clenched cooch. Ulala began to get aroused at a very rapid pace, and loosened up. Soon both tentacles were deep inside of her. She could feel both of them working their way up, hitting every nerve inside. She began to get extremely wet, and soon her inner thighs were slick with fluid. The tentacles began to work their way in and out of her body. In and out, in and out, Ulala began to scream. "I'm going to cum!" The tentacles quickly left her body as a stream of white cum shot out of Ulala. She moaned in ecstasy until she finished, and the tentacles shot right back into her. Her orgasm was maddening as she groaned and screamed from extreme pleasure. Ulala's legs widened. The tentacles continued to move in and out of her, wriggling furiously both ways.

Space Michael has come to his senses by this point, and was watching the entire scene take place. He was fighting off a rock-hard erection and trying to think of a way to save Ulala. Just then, he realized his biggest weapon was in fact his massive hard-on. He ripped off his pants to reveal a massive cock that rivaled the length of the plant's tentacles. Using it as a pogo-stick, he launched himself into the air on top of the monster's head. He then took his now completely solid sausage and slammed it into the plant's head, making a gaping crevice. He began to thrust as hard as he can, all the while watching Ulala get ****ed rigorously, paying close attention to her cries and screams. He could see tears streaming down her face and it only made him hornier. He thrusting grew faster and faster until he shot a massive load into the plant's head. The plant rapidly filled with Space Michael's cum. Suddenly, the plant stopped moving. Its tentacles fell limp and Ulala slowly fell to the ground, still barely embraced by the long strands of plant.

Ulala was laying on the floor, barely moving, as Michael approached her. His massive cock was still peaking through his shiny pants. Ulala looked up, blushing, and said, "Am I... alive?" And Michael replied, "Yeah, Ulala. You're safe now." Michael bent down and embraced Ulala. His dick was pressing against her stomach, which was covered in sweat and cum. He helped Ulala up, and they both walked back to her house after saving yet another day.

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you wrote that nights?
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wunderbar!

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That made me giggle, kind stranger.

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Aww. Nights beat me to posting the wacky erotica. Damn my schedule.
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Atnis

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Thanks Green Crayons, your post was very insightful. Also, can someone explain to me 2nd person with a 3rd person perspective? Is that in my story? I guess I have my own unique way of writing. I'm not going by any accepted formula, but if I am making a mistake that is bringing down the structure or the flow then it needs to be addressed. I'm open to all criticism.

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I enjoy writing articles from time to time, just as practice just in case I want to take it somewhere in the future (I may want to minor in it in college). My pieces typically are humourous takes on news stories, commentary from my ****ty job and retro videogame reviews.

I post'em on a website, but, I won't bother whoring it out.

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What/s A Life? Addendum

Part Eleven

On Friday mornings the amount of students walking through the front doors of the school was only a fraction of any other day. Naturally many of the students wanted to get a head start on their weekend. Considering that the starting bell had rung thirty minutes ago, the front entrance was only occupied by a few students standing around chatting amongst themselves.

Adam was thankful for the space. It had been a few days since he left his house, since the debacle with Donny and Evelia. He didn't know what to do. There was no reason to be at school, the history project was due a few days ago. Donny and Evelia would've had to finish the project all by themselves. Adam didn't doubt that they did.

But he still needed to get out of his house. He had started to feel restless, despite his fear.

The sound of footsteps quickly came up behind him. Adam turned around. Kaylen was coming towards him, a look of pure rage on her face. One of her hands was balled into a fist and rushing towards his face.

He was right to be fearful.

The fist struck him squarely across the jaw and he staggered backwards.

"You son of a—" Kaylen struck again. The same fist made contact higher up on Adam's face this time, across the cheek. "—Bitch!"

The quick succession of force and pain was too much and Adam crumpled to his knees, his body turning away from the force of Kaylen's strikes. Adam was quite surprised with the amount of power that Kaylen could summon. His vision was blurred and he knew for sure he wouldn't be able to stand up steady for a while.

"****! Kaylen! What the hell are you doing?"

"Get away from me, Terri!"

A sharp pain shot through Adam's side, forcing Adam to turn slightly towards the source of this pain and anguish. He could handle this though, this didn't compare to what he suffered a few days ago. Kaylen was getting ready to kick him while he was down—again. But Terri grabbed a hold of Kaylen by the shoulder and tried to pull her back. The two girls struggled for a moment and Adam merely watched and let the pain in his side subside.

Kaylen quickly managed to escape Terri's hold on her though. "I told you to get away from me!" she screamed.

Terri stepped back, genuine fear was welling in her eyes. She had to do something, but Kaylen was too angry to be physically stopped by herself. She ran towards the school doors and made her way inside in a hurry. Kaylen watched her go but quickly turned her attention back to Adam on the ground.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Kaylen grabbed Adam by the collar of his shirt and pulled him roughly to his feet. Within a split second, Adam was back on the ground, the sting of Kaylen's fist was fresh on his cheeks yet again. He tasted blood. Venom poured into his ears. "After the **** that happened in the past you still do something like this? Don't you get it yet? It's not going to happen between the two of you! It didn't happen then and it definitely wouldn't happen now. And what you just did to Donny..."

Adam thought he heard Kaylen choke back tears. He would have looked up at her to see if there were any in her eyes but his own was having trouble focusing.

"He's mine!" Kaylen yelled at Adam and kicked him hard in the stomach to make herself clear. "Do you hear me?!"

That last strike to his gut was painful. It was so great that Adam thought he would pass out from it since the pain started to move up his chest into his head where it transformed into an incapacitating nausea. Adam turned his face away from Kaylen and vomited. The contents of his stomach splattered on the ground, creating a yellow puddle with dots of red in them.

Though Adam was busy coughing up the vomit that caught in his throat, he still clearly heard Kaylen yelling. "Mine! And don't you dare touch him!" Just as Adam finished expelling the last of the vomit out of his throat with wracked coughing and wiped the remnants from his mouth with the back of his wrist, Kaylen kicked him in the side again.
Kaylen was swinging her foot back, getting ready to kick again when the school doors burst open and Lilith appeared, Terri following a few steps behind her. Terri remained behind, but Lilith kept moving forward, speeding up into a run to move in between Adam and Kaylen.

"Get out of my way." Kaylen said harshly, though she said that towards Lilith, she was looking straight at Adam. His vision was beginning to return, it had cleared up enough that he could see the redness around Kaylen's eyes and the small trail of moisture trailing away from them.

Lilith didn't seem to hear Kaylen's command. She stood her ground, acting as a barrier between Adam and Kaylen. "Move!" Kaylen yelled again. After a long moment of silence and stillness, Kaylen rushed forward and struck Lilith across the face. Lilith fell back a bit, her feet took a few steps backwards but she remained standing and held her ground. Kaylen, too, took a few steps back, shocked at the fact that she struck Lilith out of anger. Lilith wasn't Adam, but Kaylen still wasn't finished with Adam either. She moved towards Lilith again, ready to forcefully move her out of the way.

"Kaylen."

That voice was comforting, it was inviting. Kaylen stopped herself from attacking Lilith again to turn around. Donny had just appeared from the school doors. Evelia came up beside him. Though a look of calm was in Donny's face, Evelia was clearly trying to cope with a great amount of anxiety from the situation.

Kaylen turned back around towards Adam and Lilith. Adam was still on the ground, the weakness and pain in his body was evident from the look on his face. His eyes, however, met Kaylen's and would not turn away. Lilith was standing as still as a rock. Only the reddening of her cheek, where Kaylen had struck her, indicated that she wasn't some mannequin.

Donny's voice called out to her from behind again. "Kaylen, that's enough."

Kaylen's eyes moved between Lilith's and Adam's faces. Every time she looked at Adam, she felt the anger and disgust well up inside of her. Before Donny could call to Kaylen again, Evelia stepped forward and stood beside Lilith to face Kaylen. The anxiety was still in Evelia's face, as well as sadness. But Kaylen also detected a bit of pity.

Donny was right, Kaylen realized. This was enough. Getting past both Lilith and Evelia to get at Adam yet again wasn't worth it. Kaylen's relaxed her stand, her fists unclenched. She turned around quickly on her heels, walked towards Donny, grabbed him by the arm, and the two of them walked away from the school. From Lilith and Evelia. From Adam.

Adam suddenly realized how quiet everything was around them. He starred at Evelia, with her back facing towards him. He didn't think she would stand beside his sister like that. He could understand Lilith, she was family. No matter how much of an idiot he was, Lilith would make sure Adam would survive enough to learn from mistakes, no matter how many failed attempts it took. But Evelia... Adam couldn't figure that out. He hoped that she would turn around. Adam wasn't sure if he'd be able to say anything considering the beating that he just endured, but if Evelia turned around maybe she'd see a hint of thanks or gratitude in his face.

But she didn't turn around, instead Evelia remained standing still looking off in the direction that Donny and Kaylen walked away in. Lilith turned around and bent down, grabbing Adam by the arms and pulling him up. "Come on," Lilith said as she started helping Adam to walk away from the school. "You're heading home."

So much for going back to school, Adam thought. After what just happened, he definitely was not going to leave his home for a long time, regardless of how sick of being cooped up he was. It seemed he was supposed to be alone and in solitude.

Ignoring the pain in his neck, Adam turned his head to look back. Evelia hadn't moved, her back was still facing him. As he and Lilith continued to walk away slowly, Evelia remained where she stood.

Also alone. Just as much as he was.
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"I have captured the enemy for meat testing! Praise me! PRAISE ME!!!" -GIR
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p-0man

too busy being delicious!

Posts: 11,815

Join Date: Mar 2003

Location: the farm

Atnis
Thanks Green Crayons, your post was very insightful. Also, can someone explain to me 2nd person with a 3rd person perspective? Is that in my story? I guess I have my own unique way of writing. I'm not going by any accepted formula, but if I am making a mistake that is bringing down the structure or the flow then it needs to be addressed. I'm open to all criticism.

Greg was encased in a Plexiglas structure, a bus stop. What was odd about this bus stop was its location. Ironically it was in a place where no bus could actually stop. It was resting atop a concrete structure twenty feet above ground level and the only way to scale yourself up was with use of the built-in ladder, which were metal poles imbedded into the concrete.

Reword that, or at least replace "you" with "one"

BEan

Microsoft certified

Posts: 10,871

Join Date: Mar 2005

Location: On a rooftop with a bullhorn.

I can't write for ****.
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The sounds of DKL screaming and yelling in agony is magical and relaxing.

chowdy

wat

Posts: 2,363

Join Date: Jun 2004

Location: UC San Diego

who wants to write my humanities essay due monday?
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steamid: chowdy

matz8916

RANGERS!

Posts: 4,376

Join Date: Aug 2005

Location: Montreal,Canada

o humanities eww. My humanities class is bout utopias and dystopias. I had an exam on tuesday. I have never written so much sophisticated bull**** in my life. I tell ya, I can make stupidities sound half decent. Its worth 20% of my term Frown

Imp

legs of a newborn pony

Posts: 7,978

Join Date: Jun 2005

Is it just me or does nearly every work of fiction on the internet seem really lame? I'm not sure which is worse ever, the frugal subject matter, or the characters I could care less about.

And for the future, never lay out by saying, "So and So was a mild mannered buffon who's good looks and charm were shaken by the very exsistance of his mutton chops." Generally you don't want to confront the reader with information, let them find it.
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matz8916

RANGERS!

Posts: 4,376

Join Date: Aug 2005

Location: Montreal,Canada

it's certainly not only you.

Imp

legs of a newborn pony

Posts: 7,978

Join Date: Jun 2005

No, don't agree with me. You're one of those jerks who thinks it's okay to post overused images in their signature that only classified as mildly curiosity piquing 4 years ago.
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