{ ＩＮＫＬＩＮＧＳ } A Thread For Writers

[O.G.]

I'm really happy with my muse this summer, actually, having a bit of a muse time at the moment. finally ^^
School is actually quite good for muse in my case, as I have english lessons [because I live in a non english country] and I always finish miles before anyone else = time for writing.
I haven't started this [school] year though, so I'll have to see how it goes (:

Try listening to a song, maybe on your way home from school or just at home, and writing down the first thing that comes into your head, regardless if it is related ot the song or not. it may come in useful sometime. Or, try writing down your thoughts on a write of paper for a set time - about 5 to ten minutes is usually good. don't stop to think if possible, just write out your thoughts, and sometimes you'll get something worth keeping.

Hope I could help,
Holly

I'm pretty sure that wasn't directed to me, but, siding with Goldenstar, I must say that was good advice. o.o I've always heard of people suggesting listening to a song, but not that. I'll have to keep that in mind for possible later use.

[elfaron.]

I've been thinking about this plot for a while but I'm not sure if it's to boring or cliche, what do you think?
So it basically starts with a boy who has ran out on a fight with his parents, and is staying out to try to worry them. He falls asleep in a doorway, and he wakes up in a forest.
Next to him asleep is a minatour, and a small winged fairy/sprite girl.
They wake up and find out this is a different world, a world of runaway creatures from all worlds. However the boy didn't intend on running away for good. The story follows him and the two others as they learn how to live and help him try to go home.

It sounds really good; I say go for it!

[team free kick sass]

I've begun writing this story, mainly about a girl who loves baseball. But stupidly enough, I have absoloutely no plot in mind. I've written just over a page of rambling. I'll give you what I've written so far, and hopfully oh hopefully, at least one of you has a plot idea in mind that could work for my stupid little page-long introduction. xD

I ran my hand down the smooth, brand new bat, grinning. It was my birthday today , and I had just opened up my first gift, a signed Babe Ruth wooden bat. The very same one he used in his last game. This must`ve cost a fortune! I exclaimed, trying so hard to hold back my excitement. My Aunt Mallory, the one who had gifted me the baseball bat, smiled and sighed. It wasn`t cheap, I can say that, but it wasn`t too bad. I got it from one of his teammates, actually, when I went to New York for Spring Break. She explained. I stretched out my arms and wrapped them around her, holding her tight. Aunt Mallory smiled and hugged back, her small, delicate hands warming my body. Thanks. I said, showing off a goofy smile. Next, I turned to my Uncle Patrick, Mallory`s husband.

I never thought he really liked me the same way Aunt Mallory did, but it`s not like I saw him much anyways. He lived in Yukon Territory with Mallory, while I dwelled in Banff, Alberta. Once, I got to visit their house. It was okay, but nothing like the big farm I lived on. On my farm, we have every animal possible. We have 3 rabbits that live out in the front yard in a cage. Thumps, our smallest one, is grey and has super floppy ears. Then Leo, a spotted bunny, my favourite, is really crazy. He can’t seem to stop jumping around constantly. Finally, we have Junie, a brown female rabbit. She’s really old and small, so we have to be really careful when we handle that one. Now that’s just the beginning. In the house, we have Seth, our crazy Dalmatian cross. He stays in the house with us, because he’s only 6 months and gets too cold outside. In a tank, I own a ball python, Calypso. We have to usually put her in a cupboard, because guests get freaked out when they see her long, slender body and fangs. She actually is sweet, never bit or strangled anyone. I think she’s 4 years old, we got her when she was 1, so yeah, around 4 I’d guess. In the house, that’s all. But outside we have SO many. First, we have maybe 20 barn cats. Most are strays, but they’re really friendly. We spayed some of the females so that the kittens didn’t get neglected or force us to take them in. The males we don’t neuter, it’d cost too much money, mum says. Then, we have a pig pen. 5 noisy pigs live there. Pablo, Rave, Annie, Belle, and Chorus. Chorus is named Chorus because he has a decent oink noise. The rest came with those names. We’re, unfortunately, planning on killing Rave for meat, because he’s our fattest, and the family farm is running out of money. I don’t know what’s gonna happen to the others, yet. On the left, we have a huge stall where dad shaves off the sheep’s wool. Otherwise, it’s empty most of the time. We have 6 horse stalls, each in use. My horses, oh I love my horses. They’re the best. We have Cameron, a bay quarter horse that’s around 15 years old, give or take a year. My brother, James, uses him for western pleasure. Cameron, we nicknamed him Cammie, was once on the Calgary Stampede as a barrel racer. We got him from an auction last year so that he didn’t go to the slaughter house. 3 mares ended up as glue that day. We would’ve gotten ‘em, but they were really pricey. Residing in the next stall is Expresso, my pitch black jumper. Sometimes we go to shows together, but most times I just ride her around in the pasture over make-shift poles and bars. She’s 7 years old, and has virtually no vices. A vice is a problem, like biting or kicking, my dad told me. Expresso is my favourite horse, I think. Beside her, lives Cocoa, our chestnut foal. She’s Dutchess and Cameron’s baby. Cocoa used to live in Dutchess’ stall, until she was weaned. Now she has her own ‘room’. Across the barn, is Dutchess, the one I was talkin’ ‘bout earlier. She’s pregnant… again. This time with Nemo. Dutchess is a dapple grey Selle Francais, a really high class breed. She cost close to 20,000 dollars! And she wasn’t even fully trained. When Dutchess came, she was head strong and free willed. Never listening to leg aids or mouth aids. We took her to a trainer, and now she’s a bit better. But we still have to use strong tack, like a martingale. My Dad says she’ll be better, now that she’s had a foal. Okay Dad, you tell me when that happens. So far, we’ve been really just training Dutchess to be a good trail horse. Next stall: Nemo. Another Selle Francais. But this one cost zilch dollars. He was born from Shelbie, our old Selle Francais. Yeah, she’s dead now. And yeah, we have a lot of Selle Francais horses. So Nemo is a stallion, but we’re planning on gelding him soon, same time that we’re gonna geld Cammie. Nemo’s a really good boy, ‘cept he spooks real easy. Like, if a cat runs across the field, he’ll gallop to the far side. Or if a paper bag blows, he’ll lift his front feet up a bit, rearing. I use him for anything, really. He’s a great all-round horse. Nemo’s buddy, Midge, aww he’s the best. Shetand pony, he is. I tried riding him once. Fail. Never doing that again. Never. That’s all the horses we have, right now. But like I said, Dutchess is expecting. Outside, we have a pen full of sheep. 10 of them, I think. Paula, she’s the best. Old as can be, but she’s the best sheep ever. Then there’s Tampa, our huge, squishy, energetic, loving, working mutt. German shepherd and Collie, we guessed. He’s the best dog. Ever.

So I turned to my Uncle glumly, his deep, grey eyes staring me down. Uh—um. Er… I mumbled. Uncle Patrick turned his neck and bent down, grabbing hold of a blue bag. Like, a reusable grocery bag. Not a birthday bag what so ever. He forced a smile. My mother elbowed me, and knowing what that meant, I smiled back, thought my face quickly returned to its original, bored expression. Uncle Patrick handed the bag to me and I, reaching out my hands awkwardly, accepted it. What I pulled out was not at all what I expected it to be. It was a coffee stained photograph of my grandpa’s old ball team. Um, thanks. I poorly managed to say. My grandpa had died last year. He had been my whole baseball inspiration. Taught me every little trick and tip I know about the game. My mom smiled, and I thought I saw a tear stream down her soft face. She missed her dad like crazy, almost as much as I missed him. Mom smiled at my Uncle. It’s amazing. She exclaimed quietly, in a whisper. Uncle Patrick replied after several moments of silence. He gave it to me when he was in the nursing home. I don’t know why, exactly. I’m not his son, after all. He could’ve just given it to you or Mallory or Steve.See, Steve is my uncle. He’s the oldest, being 41 years old, and is single. He travels the world, exploring, so I don’t see him much. Uncle Steve is my mom and Mallory’s brother. Then, my mom, she’s 36. Then came Mallory, the baby of the family, who’s 27, turning 28 in October. So that’s it. My dad didn’t have any siblings, so I have no aunts or uncles over there. Anyway, my mom looked at Uncle Patrick, and smiled, rubbing the tears out of her eyes. Well thank you, Patrick. I couldn’t have asked for a better present for Katie. My mom’s a real sap, you know. Cries over every little thing you can think of. Patrick shrugged and assembled himself back in the sofa. It was my mom’s turn next to give me her present. She had a picturesque lavender bag and handed it to me gently. Inside was a pot. No, a cookie jar. Inside were a quite large selection of every cookie you could ever dream of. Aw thanks mum! I grinned and gave her a big, squishy hug. I placed the jar on the floor next to all my other gifts. James, my brother handed me a terrible wrapped cardboard box. I can just tell this’ll be the best present ever! I teased him happily. James is my older brother. He’s 16, and we get along pretty good, despite being close in age. I unwrapped, or more ripped the paper, off of the cardboard box. Inside was a sack of apples. I giggled and held it up for everyone to see.So that’s where the apples went to! My mom laughed along with everyone else. James shrugged, grinning. See, my dad was away on a work trip, so I have to wait for another week for him. He was in Michigan, Detroit. I missed him like crazy.

[Cherry]

Ooh, that's interesting! I actually skipped the animal part, except when I saw the word 'horse' I went back in read that part. If you got rid of that and just added them every once in a while, like when she goes to feed an animal, you could add their introduction there.

You misspelled something, I forgot what, and it is a little rambly, but I'd keep reading, if you had more.
Oh, and having the dialogue bold is annoying, I wouldn't do that for a story... It gives it too much of a roleplay feel, people always write in, say, black and have their character talk and green and it's huge paragraphs with two green sentences.
For some reason that bugs me.

[team free kick sass]

Yeah, I knew everyone would think it was really rambly. I just really wanted to write, but I dind't have much inspiration at the time.

About the bold dialogue... I hate it also. I don't even do it when I role-play. But I did it because my normal quoatation marks were messed up and all spread apart and crooked. xD

I'm off to edit it right now, and maybe add a bit. I'll post it again once I feel satisfied ^^

[skrundle]

I have incredible muse right now. Words and sentences keep on sailing into my brain and I've been writing them all down because they're pretty good. The problem-o is, I just can't seem to put all those words and sentences together to make a good, capturing story. Oi....

[Cherry]

Yeah, I noticed that. It's something with microsoft word, you have to fix it doing something with a thing called straight marks though I'm not sure how.
It'a not THAT rambly. I make plots as I go, so I almost never have a plot, haha.
My friend once said one of my entries (it's a diary story) had no plot. Gee, thanks.
It totally had a plot.

Man, Symmetry, you're lucky, I have writers block. And I was at a boring part of my story. Oh, look what just became boring-er!

[team free kick sass]

I ran my hand down the smooth, brand new bat, grinning. It was my birthday today , and I had just opened up my first gift, a signed Babe Ruth wooden bat. The very same one he used in his last game. “This must`ve cost a fortune!” I exclaimed, trying so hard to hold back my excitement. My Aunt Mallory, the one who had gifted me the baseball bat, smiled and sighed. “It wasn`t cheap, I can say that, but it wasn`t too bad. I got it from one of his teammates, actually, when I went to New York for Spring Break.” She explained. I stretched out my arms and wrapped them around her, holding her tight. Aunt Mallory smiled and hugged back, her small, delicate hands warming my body. “Thanks.” I said, showing off a goofy smile. Next, I turned to my Uncle Patrick, Mallory`s husband.
I never thought he really liked me the same way Aunt Mallory did, but it`s not like I saw him much anyways. He lived in Yukon Territory with Mallory, while I dwelled in Banff, Alberta. Once, I got to visit their house. It was okay, but nothing like the big farm I lived on. Here, we have every animal and pet you could ever dream up. Rabbits, horses, sheep, pigs. I could go on forever if I gave you each of their whole profiles.
So I turned to my Uncle glumly, his deep, grey eyes staring me down. “Uh—um. Er…” I muffled. Uncle Patrick turned his neck and bent down, grabbing hold of a blue bag. Like, a reusable grocery bag. Not a birthday bag what so ever. He forced a smile. My mother elbowed me, and knowing what that meant, I smiled back, thought my face quickly returned to its original, bored expression. Uncle Patrick handed the bag to me and I, reaching out my hands awkwardly, accepted it. What I pulled out was not at all what I expected it to be. It was a coffee stained photograph of my grandpa’s old ball team. “Um, thanks.” I poorly managed to say. My grandpa had died last year. He had been my whole baseball inspiration. Taught me every little trick and tip I know about the game. My mom smiled, and I thought I saw a tear stream down her soft face. She missed her dad like crazy, almost as much as I missed him. Mom smiled at my Uncle. “It’s amazing.” She exclaimed quietly, in a whisper. Uncle Patrick replied after several moments of silence. “He gave it to me when he was in the nursing home. I don’t know why, exactly. I’m not his son, after all. He could’ve just given it to you or Mallory or Steve.” See, Steve is my uncle. He’s the oldest, being 41 years old, and is single. He travels the world, exploring, so I don’t see him much. Uncle Steve is my mom and Mallory’s brother. Then, my mom, she’s 36. Then came Mallory, the baby of the family, who’s 27, turning 28 in October. So that’s it. My dad didn’t have any siblings, so I have no aunts or uncles over there. Anyway, my mom looked at Uncle Patrick, and smiled, rubbing the tears out of her eyes. “Well thank you, Patrick. I couldn’t have asked for a better present for Katie.” My mom’s a real sap, you know. Cries over every little thing you can think of. Patrick shrugged and assembled himself back in the sofa. It was my mom’s turn next to give me her present. She had a picturesque lavender bag and handed it to me gently. Inside was a pot. No, a cookie jar. Inside were a quite large selection of every cookie you could ever dream of. “Aw thanks mum!” I grinned and gave her a big, squishy hug. I placed the jar on the floor next to all my other gifts. James, my brother handed me a terrible wrapped cardboard box. “I can just tell this’ll be the best present ever!” I teased him happily. James is my older brother. He’s 16, and we get along pretty good, despite being close in age. I unwrapped, or more ripped the paper, off of the cardboard box. Inside was a sack of apples. I giggled and held it up for everyone to see. “So that’s where the apples went to!” My mom laughed along with everyone else. James shrugged, grinning. See, my dad was away on a work trip, so I have to wait for another week for him. He was in Michigan, Detroit. I missed him like crazy. Okay, I’ll admit it. I don’t miss him, I miss the present he’s bringing me back from there. I know it’s gonna be great. Something like a brand new baseball glove… he always surprises me.
We hummed on about how I was such a “big kid” now that I was 13. I didn’t think I was, at least. I didn’t have a phone, I couldn’t drive. Nothing special, being 13. Alright, I guess I was officially a teenager now, but I sure didn’t feel any different about it. Everyone migrated over to the dining room table and my mom worked vigorously, icing the cake I had sneaked a peek at when we walked away from the living room and into the dining area. Finally, after what felt like eons of waiting, my mom appeared through the door with a colourful, rectangular cake. Mmm, I though as the smell drifted into my nostrils. I held in a smile. It was nice to, for once, have all the attention on me. I guess that’s what birthdays are for, really. “Here it is!” My mom mused. Everyone began singing and cheering ‘Happy birthday to you…. Happy birthday to you… happy birthday dear Katie….” As the song goes. I blushed and curled up in my chair. Okay, I thought, maybe it wasn’t that great having all the attention on me. Maybe I’m just a kid that should always stay out of the public eye or the spotlight. The song finally finished and I sighed as everyone was fixated on the delicious-smelling cake. Mother began cutting it with her kitchen knife and I saw vanilla crumbs spill from the slice as she lifted it up. She placed it on a plain white plate and shoved it my way. I grabbed it quickly, even though I knew nobody would take it. It was my birthday, after all. The cake tasted even better than it smelled, and I must have not been the only one that figured that. My brother had a total of 3 oversized portions and I had a mere one slice. I guess just wasn’t in the mood, maybe.


Okay, that's the next part plus I edited the rest. As you can see I took out a lot. xD But stilll, i haven't decided on a direction for my plot to go. I was considering maybe the main character, Katie, is diagnosed with a flesh-eating disease [eww, I know xD] and she's forced to quite baseball, and most importantly, give up on life. It can be about her whole story of overcoming the rare disease and starting new? How does that sound? Or is it completely stupid?

[Cherry]

Unique idea. ;.) It's a little weird, but I guess you could go with it. I think cancer would be better, though that's waaaaaayyyy too overused.
As long as you don't describe it disgustingly I might read it, I'm not really into grosser diseases like that.
Though you're not writing it for me, obviously, so whatever you want, you should do.

[Lover-Of-Music!]

Anybody got any ideas for a story they are willing to share?