❛ the lazy writers ❜

[DeMaizu]

hello, Kasi! Welcome, stay away from carrots (seriously dude, build yourself a castle defense to get away from them), and have fun!

How much do your characters swear when they're angry?
Ha. Ha. Ehhhhh . . . . . Actually, they don't. Surprisingly. I think that's mostly because I post a lot of my stuff on here, though, and CS doesn't like stuff like that. So . . . . I s'pose if I weren't posting here, then they'd swear more. Or not, I'm not entirely sure!

[ForgottenxSoul]

Bleep don't mind me casually joining as this thread seems to sum up my life.

I'm allergic to carrots so don't mind me building a castle-

[L.V.L]

Has anyone actually made a story involving
these carrots and how much they will kill us? o-o

[Silver Pandorica]

Welcome new peoples! Stay away from carrots, they're deadly X3

Has anyone actually made a story involving
these carrots and how much they will kill us? o-o

Not that I know of, but that sounds awesome.

How much do your characters swear when they're angry?

Uh...none? The worst I've had my character cuss is "Hell", but I try not to throw that in too often, and leave it out entirely in most stories. I like my stuff to be clean, so the worst they usually say is "crap" or "darn."

[The Worst Username]

Has anyone actually made a story involving
these carrots and how much they will kill us? o-o

I just did!



Salchicha’s tiny hand wraps around her father’s thumb. His hands bleed sweat; he shouldn’t have brought her here. But then again, he didn’t exactly expect it to be this bad.

The father’s name is Jugo; his sister, Manzana, stands across from him. Her hair is thin and black, with strands of tired silver in the mix. Manzana’s ashen skin pulls tight over worried bones; she squeezes two hands into fists at her sides and fidgets under an apple-red dress. Salchicha used to tell “Auntie Manza” that she smelled of honeyed tea and dust. Now, that smell has been washed away by the sterile hand-sanitizer halls of the hospital.

Jugo’s skin, barely touched by brown, sags over his once-sharp cheekbones and sloping forehead, sloping nose, sloping eyes, sloping mouth. He looks like he’s collapsing on the inside. Jugo rushed here the instant he picked Salchicha up from school; he remains in the oil-stained gear of a mechanic.

Salchicha is tiny and plain in her fuzzy jacket and trousers, not registering the fear in the adult’s faces, not registering the woman on the bed that sits just above her head.

The woman looks as if she is already dead. Her mouth lolls half-open; she lies rigid in her tomb made of a stiff mattress and a thin sheet; her shock-white hair frames a wrinkled, liver-spotted face with two brown eyes still open; she is sore and stiff and old and rotting from the inside out.

“Do…do you really think it’s that bad?” Jugo has a soft voice by nature. It is near silent now.

“Um. Jugo, I, I…um.” Manzana’s words are loud, sharp, clipped, nervous. “You do know, you know: she ate carrots. I…carrots, Jugo!” Sweat runs down her temple. She tries not to tap her foot.

Salchicha cranes her neck, but Jugo keeps her down with a firm pat to the head.

“I mean, it’s just carrots,” Jugo says. But he looks down at the woman, and he bites his lip.

“J-just carrots. Jugo, Jugo, there isn’t such a thing as just carrots. For us, carrots are good, carrots are great, but for her? Aunt Panqueque is a writer. Don’t you—don’t you get it?”

“No, I don’t get it. Carrots are carrots. They aren’t,” he lowers his voice, “deadly.”

“I hope you’re right, for once,” Manzana says. Her voice has turned as grave and ashen as Panqueque’s face.

They look down at Panqueque, biting their lips, watching her every breath as her frail chest rises and falls in her hospital gown. Harsh white light falls on the tops of their heads, and Salchicha squints up at the light almost curiously. She doesn’t know what any of it means, not yet.

[AriDeZu]

Is it bad that I was amused by that? Nice story! I enjoyed it, but I still have to ask, does it make me a bad person that I was amused by it?

[Aliria]

Hehe, I'm actually thinking of changing my avatar too. It's probably gonna be even more confusing than the username, since I've had this avatar since I joined.

How much do your characters swear when they're angry?
Depends on the story. Some of my stories have swearing, some don't. My characters rarely swear very much though, and usually only one or two characters ever swear.

Has anyone actually made a story involving
these carrots and how much they will kill us? o-o

I just did!

-snip-

How do you write something this good about carrots? Seriously, it's amazing. I need to read more of your stuff.

And, in other news, I finally have something to do for Camp Nano! Expect me to have a new idea a week in and fail at everything.

[CJClaire]

How much do your characters swear when they're angry?

Well, in my first story that I wrote, all the charcters swore all the time. It was a bit much, honestly. But that was a very angry story, so it was what it was.

Nowadays, I don't have my characters swear that often. It's only really for emphasis when angry, and it does depend on the characters. I think Ben only swears once or twice in the entire book, and once was when he was running away, and the other was when his sister got hurt. But Rin swears a lot, even when she isn't angry, so. It does kind of depend.




@The Worst Username, I love that short story. It's fantastic! (A good use of 15ish minutes, I'd say)

[kolechia]

Has anyone actually made a story involving
these carrots and how much they will kill us? o-o

I wasted too much time on this and it is rather bad but practice is practice.
I think this took 10-15 minutes? I wasn't really counting-



We all sat in silence, no one dared to open their mouth to make a remark. I grunted in dissatisfaction, staring at the orange sludge on my plate. I was too cowardly to make a stand so I sat contently as the others ate around me. An abrupt thud was enough to startle me as I sprung to attention.

I watched him push away his place with an unpleasant grunted as he snootily stuck his nose up at the gunk in front of him. “I’m not consuming this filth.” He grumbled under his breath, “I wouldn’t even feed it to a hound.” I gazed at him, dumbfounded at his bravery.

There was a brief moment of hesitation, nobody knew how to react to his foolishness. “I beg your pardon?” My father snapped as he threw down his fork. I hunched over, nuzzling into my sweater to protect myself. He was a kind man but undoubtedly had a temper and I couldn’t stop myself from being intimidated. “Who gave you the right to be fussy? Shut up and eat, boy. Eating your enemies makes you stronger.”

I watched him stare back down at his plate, disgusted at my father’s idiotic speech. “They're carrots, sir. They are literally carrots. How can a simple vegetable be an enemy?” He muttered bitterly.

My father scoffed at his crude remark as he scornfully chuckled.“You have a lot to learn young one. Have I ever told you of the great carrot war of eighty-three?”

Oh, what an absurd sounding tale. I have grown tired of his ridiculous stories yet I felt oddly intrigued. I peered up, my eyes filled with curiosity as they remained fixed him. “Tell us more, father.”

I grinned to myself as I saw his worn face light up. He gave a stern chuckle before aggressively clearing his throat. “It all started many years ago before you were born…”

[ForgottenxSoul]

Okay woah these short stories are amazing <3 You guys have so much talent, I'm jealous!