{ ＩＮＫＬＩＮＧＳ } LOCK! NEW THREAD

[MacGyver]

This is one of the prologues I've been playing with for the western juvenile fiction ive been working on. Im not completely satisfied with this one but Im still thinking. The man who talks to the boy (Scotty Murrow [name is subject to change]) is the Bill Horman, the leader of the gang who killed the man and woman and burned the farm.
I wasn't in an angst-y writing mood, so I'll probably be redoing this.
I would LOVE any critique, no matter how harsh. ;3 I want to learn to better my writing since im still a beginner.

He saw the dark plume of smoke reaching up to the sky before the sharp smell of smoke met his nose. The fishing pole was carelessly tossed aside as he jumped up and ran as fast his legs could carry him back to the Murrow farm. Twigs and underbrush scratched his face and legs, but he ran on.

A gunshot and a woman’s scream stopped him dead in his tracks. Ma! His heart raced madly as he continued his desperate race to his parent’s homestead.The ten-year-old boy broke from the woods into the field beside the farm. Breathing hard, he halted and was met by a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his years. Five men on horseback were sitting astride their mounts in the front yard as the small cabin, that had once been the Murrow home, burned to the ground. The cornfield had been reduced to ashes and all that remained of the barn was a black skeleton, telling the tale of the horror that had taken place.

Then he saw the bodies of two people lying beside the house. “No! Ma, Pa!” The boy, disregarding the men on horseback, started to run towards the bodies of the man and woman.

He was cut off when one of the men, blocked his path. The boy tried to go around but was again cut off. Tears streamed down his freckled face now. “No, I’ve gotta help them,” he choked as a sob threatened. 

The man dismounted and held the boy by the shoulders. “Nothin’ can help ’em now, boy,” he said, looking the young Murrow boy in the eyes.

“But I gotta try!” He struggled to break free from the stranger’s grip. “Lemme go!”

“They’re gone. You hear me? They’re gone, son.”

"You killed them!” 

"It was vigilantes. My boys and I just happened to see the smoke.”

The boy wiped roughly at his eyes and turned his frightened brown eyes toward the stranger‘s face. “They’re...they’re really dead?”

"’Fraid so.” The man stood, one hand still resting on the young boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry...”

I want to change Scotty's name too! In the book, he will be 15.

[I'm Not The Only One]

This is one of the prologues I've been playing with for the western juvenile fiction ive been working on. Im not completely satisfied with this one but Im still thinking. The man who talks to the boy (Scotty Murrow [name is subject to change]) is the Bill Horman, the leader of the gang who killed the man and woman and burned the farm.
I wasn't in an angst-y writing mood, so I'll probably be redoing this.
I would LOVE any critique, no matter how harsh. ;3 I want to learn to better my writing since im still a beginner.

He saw the dark plume of smoke reaching up to the sky before the sharp smell of smoke met his nose. The fishing pole was carelessly tossed aside as he jumped up and ran as fast his legs could carry him back to the Murrow farm. Twigs and underbrush scratched his face and legs, but he ran on.

A gunshot and a woman’s scream stopped him dead in his tracks. Ma! His heart raced madly as he continued his desperate race to his parent’s homestead.The ten-year-old boy broke from the woods into the field beside the farm. Breathing hard, he halted and was met by a sight that would haunt him for the rest of his years. Five men on horseback were sitting astride their mounts in the front yard as the small cabin, that had once been the Murrow home, burned to the ground. The cornfield had been reduced to ashes and all that remained of the barn was a black skeleton, telling the tale of the horror that had taken place.

Then he saw the bodies of two people lying beside the house. “No! Ma, Pa!” The boy, disregarding the men on horseback, started to run towards the bodies of the man and woman.

He was cut off when one of the men, blocked his path. The boy tried to go around but was again cut off. Tears streamed down his freckled face now. “No, I’ve gotta help them,” he choked as a sob threatened. 

The man dismounted and held the boy by the shoulders. “Nothin’ can help ’em now, boy,” he said, looking the young Murrow boy in the eyes.

“But I gotta try!” He struggled to break free from the stranger’s grip. “Lemme go!”

“They’re gone. You hear me? They’re gone, son.”

"You killed them!” 

"It was vigilantes. My boys and I just happened to see the smoke.”

The boy wiped roughly at his eyes and turned his frightened brown eyes toward the stranger‘s face. “They’re...they’re really dead?”

"’Fraid so.” The man stood, one hand still resting on the young boy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry...”

I want to change Scotty's name too! In the book, he will be 15.

I really like it so far! Is there more? As it does seem a little short

[baestille]

my new book
pretty suckish if you ask me, but im really excited for it, i have a story line and all c:
finally!
good bye writers block!
edit; i posted it on wattpad, because there is alot of gore, and cuss words, it is not bad, just, like fighting. i promise, please dont look at it because of that.
i will not post it here. sorry c:
it is dark, because alot of my stories start off this way c:

[Roonil Wazlib]

@people who helped me with my sentence
Thank you!

[MacGyver]

~*Irish Rose*~:
That's all I have written of that prologue. I've been toying with different prologue ideas and this is the first one. It is rather short isn't it? XD I'll gladly take any suggestions to better it or even for a new prologue! I want to have one that gets a good response.
I can probably rewrite this one better if I were in an angst writing mood.
On fanfiction.net, there is a better view of how I can write angst. It's nothing gory or violent as I don't write that sort of thing. http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9077894/1/O ... tbeat-Away

Near the climax of the story, he discovers his parents weren't the ones who were killed. (I still need to figure out who they should've been. The man could be the hired hand but I don't know about the woman. Suggestions?)
After an unsuccessful robbery, the gang escapes while Scotty is captured. A local rancher takes him out to live at his ranch in an attempt to reform him. Scotty was told by Horman that his family farm was burned and his parents were killed by vigilantes (in this case, ranchers who don't want homesteaders settling), so Scotty doesn't like cattlemen. Anyways, the rancher turns out to be Scotty's uncle (this wont be revealed until the end.)
Of course, certain confrontations and incidents will occur throughout the book.

[Roonil Wazlib]

@MacGyver
That story sounds so cool! I don't know many people who write western. Maybe the woman could be their neighbor, who was like visiting to borrow something?

[princess pudding]

I'd like some advice and opinions on my novel's plot, though it may be best discussed over pm. Is there anyone who might have a good perspective on angels and biblical references? I'm terribly stumped and have researched endlessly with still a lot of bumps in my novel. Any help would be appreciated.

[MacGyver]

@MacGyver
That story sounds so cool! I don't know many people who write western. Maybe the woman could be their neighbor, who was like visiting to borrow something?

Awesome! That'd be perfect, thank you! =3

[I'm Not The Only One]

I was searching through various blogs about people and their writing, and then this question came up, which got me thinking. Anybody's opinion would be great :3

Is writing a skill you can learn, or something you're born with?

{{This was not meant to offend anyone either}}


Personally, I think it's a bit of both. As in, you have to be born with a love, or need, to write, but then everyone can improve, one way or another. I also think it would be very hard to learn the skill of writing, as you have to be born with a very powerful imagination, one that can create new worlds, characters, creatures, species, languages and then put it all on paper, and be able to share, to show, people this wonderful place you've created. But that's just fantasy! For realistic, you have to research, which not many people enjoy doing, to make sure everything is exactly right, but then put a twist in it so that it's still realistic, just not something you'd see everyday (or anyday).

[Rolly-chan]

I was searching through various blogs about people and their writing, and then this question came up, which got me thinking. Anybody's opinion would be great :3

Is writing a skill you can learn, or something you're born with?

My opinion is pretty much the same as Holly Lisle's.
Anybody can be a writer. Anybody can be a good writer. Writing is a skill you can learn (yes, everything about it).
With the obvious exception of those who, for some serious reason, are unable to, like people with various forms of dementia, for example; but then again, even Jean-Dominique Bauby wrote a book, and he had the locked-in syndrome.
Here's her view on it:
Honing your talent and it comes packed in a workshop |D a really cool workshop at that.