❛ the lazy writers ❜

[winged-backpack]

Ooh I actually made some progress on my novel.
(It's now a staggering 1.5 pages long ;D)

@darkheart
thanks ^^'

[The Worst Username]

Camp Nano is during April and July, you can set your own word count, join a cabin and chat with people, and adjust your word count to whatever. I'm joining but I'll be doing a cabin with my friends on Nano. Maybe I'll do one with you guys during July.

Oh my goodness that sounds fantastic. Good luck with your friends!

[Megaguirus]

Wow, so I just realized that my personal writing goal, something I set for whenever I decided to type, which is typically two pages or less, can total up to 1200 words. Dang, I didn't know it was that much. Only takes me about an hour and a half to two hours to get it all down too.

Also, how does this hunting scene sound to you guys? Warning: Mild violence.

I sighed, my stomach growled at the thought of eating. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Excellent. Now, these are very aggressive creatures, and are also very good at hearing. They might even be hearing us now at this distance. So, we’re gonna wake ‘em, and actually have ‘em come after us.”

That was a little frightening for me.

“Oh, don’t worry, kid, my trainin’ should kick in, you’ll be fine.” he smirked and let out with a loud roar, before charging at the unicorns a little.

The unicorns all jumped awake, and the black ones seemed to find us instantly and began to charge us. Dave laughed and charged at him. Frightened, I took to the air to watch the battle. The closer the unicorns got to him, the slower they charged. They let out with a weird shrieking sound and reared, quickly turning away and running from the laughing monster.

Despite being old, Dave could run like no other. He caught up to them quickly and leapt in a frightening bound. He landed right on top of one of the black ones and didn’t even need to bite it to kill it, his weight killed it with a sickening crunch. The other unicorns seemed to be alerted to the sound and turned to look at the bloody scene.

Dave kept laughing, even as he shot fireballs at the stunning unicorns, who scattered and resumed running. My heart was pounding, I didn’t want to land, everything inside me told me to run away with the unicorns. My ears were alerted to the loud sound of crunching, and below me the brutal monster was digging into the poor creature.

Just a little upcoming blurb I cut out of "The Story of Dante". I know it's pretty scary, but how scary? (I don't get scared, sad, or happy during most of my writing scenes).

[anxious ghost]

@Megaguirus it sounds pretty good to me, but I've never really read anything with hunting? And to me, it wasn't scary at all, tbh.

[NyxxofStars]

Also, how does this hunting scene sound to you guys? Warning: Mild violence.

--snip--

I like it! I don't know the character but he sounds like you could add a few more conjugations in? (ex. "these're, 'mite even be hearin, ect) Also, if you feel like your character needs the extra 'oomph' to make the scene more immersive, I suggest following the "show, don't tell" rule. (ex. "This was all a little frightening for me" turns into "I squeezed my hands into pale fists to attempt to stop their quivering. My heart seemed like it would break through my chest and escape. I felt a cold sweat down my back as I tried to be brave, for his sake" ect, ect.) Overall, I like it! Can't wait to read more!

[Bilaz]

I have a question for you guys:
Out of context, what's the strangest sentence you've ever had one of your characters say?

For me it has got to be: 'Why don't we just pretend he's Russian and get my violin?'

[Megaguirus]

Also, how does this hunting scene sound to you guys? Warning: Mild violence.

--snip--

I like it! I don't know the character but he sounds like you could add a few more conjugations in? (ex. "these're, 'mite even be hearin, ect) Also, if you feel like your character needs the extra 'oomph' to make the scene more immersive, I suggest following the "show, don't tell" rule. (ex. "This was all a little frightening for me" turns into "I squeezed my hands into pale fists to attempt to stop their quivering. My heart seemed like it would break through my chest and escape. I felt a cold sweat down my back as I tried to be brave, for his sake" ect, ect.) Overall, I like it! Can't wait to read more!

Ooh, now this is what I wanted! Yeah, I'm having a little trouble with Dave's language and what I want it to be. So far, all I have is them is shortened to 'em and the "g"s and the end of most "ing"s are cut away. I'm fairly good at grammar and this is the first "illiterate" character I've written. If you are familiar with such talking, maybe I could show you some of his sentences and see how they can be fixed? Because so far, it feels like I'm giving him a southern accent, and that's not exactly what I'm going for.
And thanks on the "show, don't tell" too! I've always had a problem with that, even though I get it into my head that it's okay, almost every time I ask for critique someone brings it up, LOL. I'll try and fix that on the document.

Oh, BTW, if you're that interested, you can read the novel right here on CS (and on Wattpad but I can't access that at the moment). The chapter this scene came from won't be put up for awhile, but the previous ones will soon. Especially the one that introduces Dave (who is a fire drake, BTW, sorry I forgot to mention that).

[Silver Pandorica]

I actually did something productive for once and did a prompt for flo's challenge! I feel quite accomplished, actually, even if I should've been working on one of my current books.
viewtopic.php?f=57&t=3341186&hilit=Flo&p=107351588#p107351588

And guess what. I did something naughty. I started writing another story. Oops. I don't really think I'll continue it, since I already have too many stories as it is, but I felt inspired by an awesome book I finished on Wattpad (literally read it in less then 24 hours, help me) and decided to just go off on some random spiel. Feel free to read it if you want, let me know what you think, critique the living heck out of it if your bored. Probably a lot of grammar mistakes in there, lol.
the book I read is called "In 27 Days", by the way, and it's probably one of my new all-time favorite books ever

"Kayel! Stop picking at that food, boy, and get those dishes to the kitchen!"

I flinched, unaware my boss had been watching me. "Yes, sir," I muttered, barely audible. Mr. Facket was a rather intimidating man, but I'd learned to get over it. You want to survive in this world, you gotta have thick skin. Whiners, weaklings, and cry babies would be kicked around if they didn't get a grip. I'd learned that the hard way, and now look where I was. Working as a stupid waiter at a run down restaurant that served probably some of the most unappetizing food on the block. And yet, my mouth still watered every time I watched the customers munching greedily on their meals like they didn't have a care in the world.

Feeling Mr. Facket's beady eyes burning into the back of my head, I heaved a sigh and bent over the table to start piling dirty dishes into a large gray plastic bin. To be completely honest, I should consider myself lucky I was even able to get a job here. I didn't have any previous experience prior to being employed, but by some miracle, I had been granted a chance. And I'd managed to hold this job for an entire year. My stomach growled as I placed a still half-full plate into the bin, and my blue-gray eyes flicked hungrily over the plate. Without thinking, I popped a well seasoned fry into my mouth and continued to clear the table off before wiping it down with a damp rag.

As I made my way back to the kitchen, I caught Baxter watching me from behind the soda dispenser. Baxter, you could say, is my only friend in this blasted joint. He's older then me, a college student, and works here part-time when he isn't at his classes or drowning in homework. He has wavy black hair and bright green eyes that always seem to have a happy glint in them, and most of the time, he's rather pleasant to be around. Always ready with a dumb joke. Right now, however, he was watching me with an almost completely serious look on his face. "What?" I snapped half-heartedly, setting the bin on a nearby table and leaning on the edge of the counter. There was work to be done around here, and I wasn't too fond of the idea of getting scolded by that annoying old boss of mine again.

His eyes flicked back down to the glass in his hand that he was filling up with Coca Cola. He stopped it just before it got too full, but made no move to get a straw. "You know," he began in a low voice, "it really wouldn't be any trouble if you wanted to come over for dinner sometime."

I scowled at him, immediately knowing he must have seen me sneak a fry. "We've been over this, Baxter," I murmured, picking up the bin again. "I don't need your help. I'm fine." Edging around the table, I made to go back into the kitchen, but Baxter stopped me by grabbing my shoulder. I whirled around. Despite being only seventeen, I was just as tall as he was, and I met his eyes with a spark of frustration. What now?

Baxter looked dead serious as his eyes bore into me. "I worry about you sometimes, Kayel. No kid should have to-"

I shrugged away from him and glared at the floor. "Don't start. You promised you wouldn't talk about it anymore." A pause. "And I'm not a kid."

His gaze saddened and with a soft sigh, he plucked a straw from the metal container and unwrapped it, slipping it inside the glass. He then tossed the wrapper into the trash. "I know. I lied. You need help, Kayel. You can't go on like this."

A certain fire started in my chest and my eyes shot up to meet his. "I have so far." There was a long pause, and before Baxter could pursue the subject anymore, I turned my back on him and marched into the kitchen.

He was never supposed to find out. No one was supposed to find out. It happened by accident. It was around the time I first started working here at Fennigan's Pizzeria, maybe a few weeks in or so. I was cleaning up one of the tables and had snuck half a breadstick. I hadn't thought anyone was watching, since it was closing time and most of the staff were in the back, cleaning up the cooking supplies and whatnot. But Baxter had caught me red-handed. He'd asked me why in the living heck I'd just eaten that leftover scrap of food. Of course, I'd tried to avoid the question. Lie, even. It didn't work. He started asking me other questions, like where I lived, who my parents were, weird stuff like that. I'd even called him a stalker, which of course was only a weak attempt to change the subject and turn the tables on him. Over the next week after that, Baxter continued to keep a close eye on me. After much of his prying, I finally had given in to his curiosity, against my better judgment. It was probably one of the hardest things I'd ever done, but I'd sort of become friends with the guy during the short time I'd worked there, and I knew he wouldn't put up with my excuses. So after making him swear on his life not to tell a single soul, I admitted it. I was homeless.

The funny thing about people these days, they think that being homeless means you live in a cardboard box on the side of the road, begging for food from passerby. Not necessarily. It's a lot more complicated then that, especially if you're a kid. Where do I sleep? Uh, pretty much a different place every night. Sometimes I sleep on a bench in Central Park, or find a nice nook in an abandoned building or something. Baxter offered to let me stay at his house, but I didn't want to depend on him for anything. I could do this myself. The only times I ever accepted his offers were when it was raining or snowing and I currently didn't have any indoor places to crash for the night. It was way too awkward when I slept over there. It made me feel weak, like I couldn't take care of myself. Like if I accepted help from him, it would take away the little dignity I had left.

Sighing for probably the hundredth time in the last hour, I placed the bin inside the large sink and made for the bathrooms to change. One inside the stall, I slipped out of my work clothes and dressed in ripped jeans, a gray t-shirt, and a black hoodie, all salvaged from the high school's lost and found. Thank you, forgetful teenagers, for your kind donations. I then exited the stall and washed my hands. As I scrubbed away the dirt and grime with the sweet-smelling soap, I couldn't help but gaze at my reflection. My dark brown hair fell over my eyes in a way that shadowed their color from prying people. I never could quite label my eyes. They were an odd color indeed. Sometimes they looked more blue then they did gray, and vice versa. Other times, they even looked a bit green. My hair was as bland as hair could come. Brown. It was pretty thick, and reached down to my ears. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd cut it. Probably did it myself. No wonder it looked so messy all the time. Turning off the sink, I snatched a few paper towels, dried my hands, and swung my grimy, torn bag over my shoulder so it was hanging loosely at my side.

Baxter was taking another table's order when I made for the door, but I saw him glance at me knowingly out of the corner of his eye as I briskly walked towards the exit. I was leaving early, but he would cover for me. He always did. I had a load of homework to do, and I still had to make it back to the old factory a few blocks down before I could start on it. Nodding in his direction, I pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool autumn air. The sky was already dark, and judging by the last time I'd checked the clock before leaving, it was around nine. I sighed, knowing I wouldn't be getting to sleep until much later. Then again, I never really did.

[Ranger of the North]

Poor Kayel! How did this all happen...?

[Silver Pandorica]

Poor Kayel! How did this all happen...?

In all honesty, I have no idea yet..I'm hoping to continue it, since it's really a different style/theme then I'm used to writing. Plus, there's a message I would like to get across with it. I'm not really sure where I would take the story, though...hm ^^