The Advanced Writer's Club

[Artesian]

Maeva sounds lovely, especially since it can be abbreviated to a tame Mae. Also, to quote Wikipedia:

"Maeve is a first name of Irish origin. In Irish Gaelic, the name "Medbh" means "she who intoxicates." It is rooted in the Irish legend of Queen Maeve or Medb, one of the main protagonists of the early Irish legend Táin Bó Cúailnge. It is also associated with the fairy queen Queen Mab of Irish and English legend."

You might try this, as well. Breena means fairy-land, Ella is short for Elfin, etc.

[princess pudding]

@Chemical Blonde accepted

Now I’m stuck between Mae and Veronica.
I came up with Mae on the spot, and I find it really simple and pretty...
but at the same time, that’s not anything like her personality. Veronica seems to fit her better.

>> Wow, Arty, I didn’t know that was an actual name x3
I might keep it and use it for another witch, such as the antagonist.

I would wait. That's just me, though; once I start on something new, I forget about the original.
Haha, I do like Liv. It's my sister's name ^^

[abandoned.]

you said I agree twice xD

lol I have some blob of an idea for another story
but I want to finish burning willow
but I need opinions

has everyone here see it? ono

[Artesian]

Well, Maeva isn't, but Maeve is. Close enough.

I've seen a bit of Burning Willow (just the first chapter). Ambitious! Something that close to home, emotionally, for people is going to be veeery tricky to write.

[abandoned.]

Well, Maeva isn't, but Maeve is. Close enough.

I've seen a bit of Burning Willow (just the first chapter). Ambitious! Something that close to home, emotionally, for people is going to be veeery tricky to write.

exactly
did I ever tell you what my plan is?ono

thanks rose ^.^
I'm just sort of avoiding writing more because the middle is just uncharted territory
I don't want to make it a book where the character is suffering
I want it to be her living a normal life for the most part :s

[princess pudding]

@pie I need to read your story, but I also need sleep...
remind me to read it tomorrow when I can actually see.

I got bored and wrote out a little draft of Veruca's
{yes, I'm calling her that until I figure something out} appearance.
Probably full of grammatical errors, but what the heck. I'm tired.

She was an odd child at best; her hair was clumped and sectioned into bits, hardly visible behind a floppy black hat. A Cheshire grin was stitched onto the fabric, and it curled out at the tip, hardly stable and quite silly for fashion. Two mischievous hazel eyes starred out of bangs, warm and inviting as the freckles on her rosy cheeks. The girl’s dress was long and large, black like the night sky and layered by white frills and buttons of every sort. It wasn’t enough to hide her boots, which clicked and clacked with every step she took. The fact of the matter was simple; Veruca was a witch.

[abandoned.]

@pie I need to read your story, but I also need sleep...
remind me to read it tomorrow when I can actually see.

I got bored and wrote out a little draft of Veruca's
{yes, I'm calling her that until I figure something out} appearance.
Probably full of grammatical errors, but what the heck. I'm tired.

She was an odd child at best; her hair was clumped and sectioned into bits, hardly visible behind a floppy black hat. A Cheshire grin was stitched onto the fabric, and it curled out at the tip, hardly stable and quite silly for fashion. Two mischievous hazel eyes starred out of bangs, warm and inviting as the freckles on her rosy cheeks. The girl’s dress was long and large, black like the night sky and layered by white frills and buttons of every sort. It wasn’t enough to hide her boots, which clicked and clacked with every step she took. The fact of the matter was simple; Veruca was a witch.

xD will do :3

that's not a bad description c: I like it ^-^

[princess pudding]

Blech. Can't sleep for the life of me.
>> Thanks. Five minute writing sessions are fun. Sort of.

[sunflower.]

Username: && e t e r n i t y
Nickname: I don’t have any nicknames for myself, but some people call my ‘terny’ or ‘etern’, or something similar. c: So, you may call me anything you like, really.
Writing Preferences (Poet, Novelist, roleplayer...): Novelist, roleplayer, poet/songwriter. I love writing a lot, so obviously I like writing anything. xD
Example (Can be anything; must be a good length): Here is an extraction from my story ‘A New Home’. After that, there's an example of my song-writing - the song's name is 'Merciful'.


I pulled my covers up to my chin, staring up at the white-washed ceiling. I was cold and lonely, and I somewhat felt insecure right there, in my own room -the one I've been sleeping in for nearly thirteen years. There was no assurance that I was going to be okay, and that everything would go back to normal. I was so unsure of everything; so ... unprepared. I felt the most vulnerable I've ever felt in my whole life, listening to the loud voices below the thick wooden planks of my room's floor. My bed creaked as I dared to move onto my other side, and I slipped my head under the pillow to deafen out the unbearable sounds coming from the living room; the shouts between my mother and father.
I couldn't take it anymore; it was like a sharp knife driven deep into my heart, or two handcuffs tied tightly around my wrists, forcing me to cry with excruciating pain. But the pain wasn't physical; it was somewhere inside my soul - my heart - where nothing could heal properly. There would always be a 'mental' scar inside of me. Even though nobody else would be able to see it, I'd never forget it long after it has healed and the pain has gone. I've learned to never scratch on a place where it doesn't itch, otherwise the consequences could be fatal. That's somewhat what happened in this situation: I brought up the subject, and soon I was the one to be chased out of the room.
As I lay there on my side, contently staring out of the window into the foggy dark night, the loud voices gradually ceased. The clock in the hall ticked on. This whole situation didn't turn back time or fast-forward it; it just slowly but surely carried on with what it was used to doing. I saw a dim light being turned on somewhere upstairs in the long hall, probably the one farthest of my room - next to Gale's room. My parents would've been done with arguing by now, I was sure. My mother was always silent after an argument, because she didn't want to stir up any other unnecessary things that would make my father angrier.
"Joey."
An ice cold shrill went down my spine, and I realised that my fingers were clasping at the bed's edge. I swallowed, hard, and wanted to turn my gaze to see who called my name. Instead, I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. You don't want them to realize that you heard the whole conversation, Joey. I lay there in suspense, wondering what would happen next. I didn't want my parents to scold me for bringing up the subject, and I didn't want them to get divorced after their argument, either. It was that bad. But what should I do to prevent all that? I heard the door creak open a little wider, and then the soft footsteps of my little sister as she tiptoed closer to my bed. I opened my one eye slowly, just wide enough to see what she was doing. She stared at me, her eyes as wide as golf balls, her arms wrapped around her favourite teddybear and her chin resting on its fluffy head. A small smile appeared across my lips in the dark, the moonlight brightening up the room just enough so I could see her figure. She was so small and so helpless, yet she was so cute. I opened both of my eyes and sat upright in my bed, realising I wouldn't get away with pretending to be asleep. She knew that I liked to pretend, but tonight was not a night to do that. The whole situation was very real; even more real than any of us could ever imagine.
Her fine blonde hair was tousled from tossing and turning in her bed, I had noticed, and her marine-blue eyes were an ash grey under the soft touch of moonlight. I positioned my back against the cold marble wall, still sitting on my bed with my legs under the warm covers. The moon shone directly onto my bed, illuminating any sort of darkness that could scare us. Not that I was scared of the dark, but Gale sometimes was. I was only scared of the dark in situations like this, afraid that something would jump up out of the shadows and grab me by my throat. But that stuff only happened in horror movies - not in real life. But at that moment, real life felt like a horror movie.
I patted the bed beside me, flipping open the covers just far enough so she could slip inside. It was cold, and I started to slightly shiver. But it was fine; I was quite used to it. "Come, Gale." I stretched out my hand and touched her forearm - she was cold, and I could feel how she shivered. Her jaws clattered on each other as she stood there, looking at me expectantly. "Sit here, and then we'll keep each other warm."
She gladly accepted the offer, and within the blink of an eye she was on my bed, my arm resting around her shoulders. Her legs were covered with the duvet, and her toes were like icicles against my legs. There was a silence, but it was precious. There was no need to break it, because both of us needed the silence. I sometimes thought that silence was needed on earth to show people how much noise they made in their everyday life. And it was true.
"Joey, I am scared."
Those three words explained a thousand things, but neither of us understood what those thousand things meant.
"Joey, what is going to happen? Are we going to be okay?"
I closed my eyes. A stream of silent tears rolled down my cheeks uncontrollably, dropping onto the duvet below. I could not answer her; for my mouth was dry and my throat was achy. My lips felt cracked, and my tongue tied. I hugged her from her side, both of my arms wrapped around her and her teddybear. I kissed her on her head, burying my face in her soft golden hair. I took a deep breath, and let it out, but instead I stifled a soft cry. All I managed to whisper was: "I don't know, dear. I really don't know."




The day the stars begin to fall
This world would be lonely and cold
Tell me it won't happen at all

Hearts would be torn up and sold
In pieces to the young and old
The big answer is still untold

Pick me up and throw me down
Until I finally hit the ground
The love from your side is still to be found

I hate this eerie sound
I heard it then, I hear it now
It's still the sound of the pain of this world of ours

(Chorus)
I made a promise I won't break
And I still keep it for your sake
Unless this is a dream I can't awake

Oh, can't you hear the clear call
Coming from the world at all
It's not nice trying and ending up to fall

Be merciful, be merciful, be merciful to us all (x2)

Why don't you try understand
How we feel under this hand
That pressures us and expects us to stand

This world is breaking in our hands
The water has been filled with sand
The fresh air has now turned into gas

I can't live with this anymore
It's tugging me down to my core
This world now has permanent war

The sea has risen on the shore
Your love was tested once more
And I stood there staring at the floor

(Chorus)
I made a promise I won't break
And I still keep it for your sake
Unless this is a dream I can't awake

Oh, can't you hear the clear call
Coming from the world at all
It's not nice trying and ending up to fall

Be merciful, be merciful, be merciful to us all (x4)

Why am I still to wait
If this world is on its last page
I just hope it's not too late...

lyrics by me.


Links to stories / roleplays: Here is a link to my roleplay, w a k e m e u p – semi-lit – new and open – one lad left.. Then, I have a link to my story, A New Home, but it still has a long way to go.
Other: Hmm, no… not at the moment. c:

[abandoned.]

accepted eternity c: