{ ＩＮＫＬＩＮＧＳ } LOCK! NEW THREAD

[~willo o' wisps~]

Username: }}Independent{{
What we will call you: (a maximum of four.) Artemis or Arti
Will you critique other's work?: (yes, no, or possibly.) I'll politely do it so, possibly.
Links to your story if you have any: None of my books have been published yet, so I have no links to it.
Anything you want us to know?: Nothing else

[scoopyfrog]

I'm so excited! A play I wrote was submitted to a Drama class along with other plays and mine was selected to be performed!! (I'm in that Drama class so I get to act in my own play!)

[Iselka]

I'm so excited! A play I wrote was submitted to a Drama class along with other plays and mine was selected to be performed!! (I'm in that Drama class so I get to act in my own play!)

congrats

[Charias]

I need some critique on my story! I don't think it's that bad, but I'd like to improve - anyone up for it? If you read mine, I'll read yours. I'm quite in the mood to read right now.

Link

[Wind Frost]

Hi guys! Writing a book called Silvershoe Ranch Diaries, and it's about a girl name Imogen-Rose Tyler, 13 years old in present, but 11 in the past, who's middle name is Robin and who in called Imi, who lives on her family's ranch and farm, and is obsessed. I'm basing her off a very good friend of mine (OMG it's Amelia) because she's inspired me for so many things, and Imogen is nearly, nearly, as pretty as her. Imi's eyes are blue. She has five of her own ponies that live in a barn just for her ponies, and they are called Ringo, Starling, Robin, Lucy and Duck. Imi also has a sister named Tiger-Lily, who is called Tiggs or Tiger, and is 9 and keeps her two ponies, Coco and Seliena in the same barn Imi keeps her's in.
If you like the first chapter, tell me and I may post it online!
It is meant to change tense, so don't worry.

It was morning on Silvershoe when Tiggs came and told me something had happened on the Ranch. I was in my bed, in our small little cottage outside Silvershoe, in my grass-green bed, staring tiresomely at my blue walls with posters and photos of my ponies all over them, and has just got dressed. Our house is small, but has an upstairs, and my mother was tending to the birds outside in the yard. The cottage has a lovely thatched straw roof, and back then, when I was only 11, it needed changing. The walls outside were white and made of smooth stone bricks, and out=r garden produced lovely red ivy that creeped up the front if the house and above the door. The garden is full of flowers, mainly roses, and a small tree that had a trunk that seemed to divide into four at the bottom and twist round itself. The inside walls are white, but the walls in the bedrooms are different, and the kitchen is light-blue tiled. The bathrooms have sky-blue tiles with patterns of all my ponies, and Tiggs', and my mum's horse, Jasper. Downstairs, in the dining room, are two portraits of our 3 dogs, Maggie, Stan and Annie, all Collies, and of our two cats, Jack and Joe, brother American Curls. In the living room, there is a portrait that takes up close to half of the smallest wall we have, which is about 4 or 5 metres, of Jasper, Tigg's ponies Coco and Seliena and my five ponies named Ringo, Starling, Robin, Lucy and, after my favourite bird, Duck.
Our house is about 30 metres from the ranch, and behind the ranch on the right diagonal is the small farm. We could easily walk there. There are at least 16 hacking routes I know, and my favourites are the private beach about a 20 minute's ride from the ranch, and horses are allowed on it. It is at least, 7 miles long and great for riding in the sea, and I also love the straight moors about 30 minute's riding away from the ranch, and my most favourite, which I know every direction off by heart, is Silvershoe forest, that was beamed before the ranch. Sometimes if you take the right path, you come to a huge clearing that is, maybe half a mile wide and a 10 mile forest surrounding it. If you go onto of the hill in the middle of the clearing, you can see everything! The city we used to live in, which is very far away now, the beach, the sea, the farm, the ranch, and the barn my beautiful ponies sleep in. Sometimes you can see my ponies playing in the field with Tiggs' ponies.
When Tiggs burst into my room, she looked out of breath. Her long blonde hair was draping over her shoulder, and she was breathing heavily, "Mum, wants, to… see you…"
When I looked at her in a confused way, she breathed, "now."
Without thinking, I grabbed her arm and dragged her downstairs in a run, shoved open the door and burst onto the stable yard, where a huge, at least 15 hands high stallion it seemed from its behaviour, was rearing and bolting and screaming in the yard. All the horses in the stable block around him were whining and shrinking back into their stalls, dipping their heads, their eyes dashing round the area with fright.
I looked over to where mum was, and she had a halter and was waving her arms at the stallion to make him turn back, but her kept rearing and screaming, rearing and screaming, rearing and screaming.
I flashed Tiggs a looked, and she returned it with a glance of horror. She was terrifies. She hates seeing horses in distress and humans in trouble, so in an attempt to calm her, I whispered, "Why don't you go and gather the ponies into their field, because I didn't have time to take them out this morning because Ringo was bolting in his stall and I had school work to finish. And tack Robin and Coco up quickly, bring them over here and grab a few loose lassoes."
Nodding, Tiggs took off in a run, she is the best athlete in her year.
After she entered the barn, I turned my head towards the stallion. I grabbed a halter from a peg on the stall next to me and ran in front of him, shouting, "Wo! Calm down!" He stopped rearing, but instead turned and ran circles around the main yard, his un-shodden hooves clicking quietly on the cobblestone ground. Mum looked at me, and asked, "How… did you do that?"
Laughing, I replied, " It's just my special skills kicking in!"
Hearing the noise of shodden hooves on the cobblestone, I turned round and Tiggs gave me Robin's reins. Robin was the most amazing bay colour, which a flaxen mane and tail. Her eyes were light brown and she had 3 white socks and a small dot on her forehead.
Robin tossed her mane and whinnied. I laughed, and held her reins with my left hand, and Tiggs knew I could, and still can, ride without a saddle brilliantly, she'd left it off. If she didn't, we may not have caught that stallion in time. Once we were on, she tossed me a lasso and we headed off in a trot over to the other side of the yard. The stallion immediately noticed us and galloped away, then I harshly tugged Robin's reins and galloped after him. We were headed very fast to the metal gate, and I shouted to Tiggs, "He's going to jump the gate! You can't jump that high! Stay with Coco here and try to calm toe horses!"
I saw Tiggs nod and she steered Coco to the left and slowed him down.
My head was now facing a large metal gate that was a half a head smaller than Tiggs, who was about 4ft 4, and I'd jumped higher than tipis, but not bareback. But Robin sailed over it, and the stallion galloped for the beach. Urging Robin on, I readied my lasso and, within seconds, we were neck and neck with the stallion. He turned his head at us, screamed, and ran on, but we managed to stay just next to him, and I flung my lasso over his muzzle, and around his neck. I'd had lots of lasso practice with my dad, who managed the farm and loved his down. He'd taught me how to catch calves with a lasso when I was 7 on horseback, and I'd started riding since I was bought, Duck, my first ever horse, for my second birthday, It seems very early, but I'd loved horses all my life, growing up near a riding school in our city home. When I was 2, Tiggs was born, and there was no space in our house anymore. One my sixth birthday, and on Tiggs' fourth, we moved to the ranch and farm. I was so excited, and there were horses everywhere that we kept mainly livery, but at the back of the 60 acre ranch and farm were, and still are, the stables and paddocks belonging to our family. I lead Duck into the field, and mum presented me and Tiggs with more ponies that were rescues, so she thought because nobody wanted them, she'd buy them for us, and our dad presented me with a lovely little duckling, and Tiggs a chicken with two chicks, and we started real life from then on. We will never, ever, ever, ever, move house again.
The stallion screeched again when he tumbled because of the lasso shocking him, and he got up quickly, shook his head and reared. When he tried to get away, Robin bit at him, and he screamed at her and tried to nip her back, but, being the smart 6 year old she was, she tactically neighed, bit him and pawed his chest lightly.
We towed the stallion back in what felt like hours of me groaning, "Hurry up!" and "We need to get home before Christmas!" at the stallion, and Robin groaning too. Finally we reached the yard, and Tiggs grabbed Robin as I hopped off her and went to untack her. Dad rushed over to me and smiled, "Well done, lassie. You caught your first proper wild 'un."
My dad calls wild horses, or stallions, wild 'uns. I've never known why.
Mum grabbed the lasso but i held it firm, and she told me, "Let go! It will kill you!" But the stallion stood still and when I reached out to touch him, he somehow "growled" and shied his head away. Dad laughed and mum said sternly, "Mack! Stop laughing! And as for you Imogen-Rose Robbin Tyler,"- I snarled quietly at the mention of my full name-"you lead that… thing, into the spare stall over there," and she pointed to the new stall that had been made in case such events may happen or if a horse needed to go in there that was located 40 metres or so away from mine and Tiggs's barn.
Sighing, I lead the stallion away to the stable, and when I reached it, realised a field had been made too, and lovely big one, perfect for this boy, and I saw Tiggs leading Robin out into her paddock, and Tiggs look when she was heading to the gate of the paddock asked, very dazed, "What the…?"
I laughed and giggled, "Oh, he's mine now. I'm going to train him up, and this is his stable," and I pointed to the barn next to me I was about to enter. Tiggs nodded an "Ohh!" and walked on.
We reached the stable door and I unlatched the freshly-oiled slide-bolt lock. In the stall was a large space that was 5 metres wide and 3 long, perfect for this pitch black stallion with a blaze. There was a large drinking trough for him and a large feeding trough with fresh oats and hay. I dipped my hand in the water and took it back out again, and shook it of the wetness. It was cold, but a reasonable temperature for him.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp tug in the lead rope and got a slight rope burn. The stallion was tossing his head and shaking it erratically up and down. He neighed, then stopped; I could see he was clearly stressed, so told him in a whisper, "This stall is where you will live in the winter, and possibly at night. you will settle here, and I know it's a change from the wild, but you have at least an acre of field all to yourself, and you can talk to my ponies as well as Tiggs's ponies, so you won;t be alone. If you like, I can take you in your field so you can run. You'll get used to this place, I promise, Kayu Hitam."
I was in top set fro every single school subject, and still am now, and took more language lessons after school for an hour every Monday, and I specialised in Indonesian, and Kayu Hitam means "ebony" in Indonesian.
Kayu nodded his head a little as if in reply, and I laughed, and for the first time, he nuzzled me.
When I released him into his field, I stood outside of the gate and watched him. I could've down it for hours, seeing him a little happier, frolicking and bucking and galloping. When mum called me for dinner, I was about to leave when. Kayu touched his nose on my back, and he whinnied softly. He didn't want me to leave, so I whispered gently in his ear, "I'll see you tomorrow. Promise with my life."
He nodded, and continued to play. He was already socialising with my ponies and with Tiggs's.
I knew that this was the beginning of a friendship I wouldn't let go of for all the coins in the world.

[Amethyst The Gem]

hi there! OMG i am ssooooooooo behind, like i was 40 pages back! anyhoo, i have a page in the writing forum called seeing pinks story corner where i store all my work if anyone's interested in reading my works.

[Rebel Faery]

Hi, guys. I have a question. How would you guys write ghosts? As in, the main character being a ghost? In my story, the main character is a ghost, but the other characters don't know it yet. The audience does. Do you guys have any tips on how to handle this?

[Zalia]

Hi, guys. I have a question. How would you guys write ghosts? As in, the main character being a ghost? In my story, the main character is a ghost, but the other characters don't know it yet. The audience does. Do you guys have any tips on how to handle this?

You can write a prolouge on how they died maybe? Or you could explain that he/she wishes they could feel someone elses touch again, something like that? Since ghosts cannot feel, I think that would be a good way to explain.

[Rolly-chan]

Hi, guys. I have a question. How would you guys write ghosts? As in, the main character being a ghost? In my story, the main character is a ghost, but the other characters don't know it yet. The audience does. Do you guys have any tips on how to handle this?

Depends on what you want the readers to feel and/or think, and on the way a ghost works in your story. I take it the other characters can see him/her? Can they also touch your ghost character? Concentrate on the differences and incorporate them throughout the story, make them matter for the plot. But don't rub in the fact that this character is a ghost. If you repeat it too often it'll get boring and your readers will rather react with rolling their eyes.

For example - if there's a situation where the other characters need help, and your main character is there but doesn't do anything because he/she can't touch anything, and can only desperately look on, the others are going to find it suspicious, or be angry with your character, and your character will not be able to tell them, which will, if you use the right language and description for this, get your readers to sympathise more with your ghost character.
Think of the reaction you want from your readers and what you want to accomplish with your scenes. What's the point of each scene? I think it'll be easier to find out what you need to do if you know what you want in the first place.

Sounds interesting, your idea, by the way ^^

[Iselka]

How do you keep from procrastinating?
Like seriously. My confidence sucks in myself but I can't blame it all on that.
How do you keep yourself focused? :c

I usually think of what I'm going to write next.