The Advanced Writer's Club

[abandoned.]

sorry I haven't been active T^T
what's happened in my absence? ono

[Ben Kenobi]

I was accepted and my computer has gotten worse so I may loose all of my writing D:

[Chickenpaste]

Username: Chickenpaste
Nickname: Pasteh
Writing Preferences: Free verse and creative writing are my favorite.
Example: Here's a poem I wrote:

A good friend,
A good time,
A bad ending,
But it's all fine.
For it not to ring
The default chime
Of what I want
And what is mine
Is all I want
When all is time
And time is long
And forever is time.
Your eyes are olive,
Your apparel is lime,
Your expression is dark
Yet you're on cloud nine.
You hold the sand
And sand is mine
You let it pour
From your cloud
From your sky.
And then I sink
Into your sea,
And the sea is you,
But you don't see me.
I am gone,
I am dead,
I have been deleted
From your head.
But life is one,
And one is all,
All is time,
And time is mine.

And another:

Young I had been when I had been hunted,
Like the unsuspecting mouse below the elusive eagle;
The click of a hunter's gun to a graceful grazing stag.
The intent of profit He had had, mindless of self-being.
The ravenousness of satisfaction on the faces of the Predators.
While my universe places silverware neatly on its table, prepared for my apocalypse,
I prance through the fragrant flowered meadow, life a dime on the market.
I find Him, a mile below the surface, wounds of His misled past flowing into the blue,
Like a fountain of His regret and suffer. Yet His face remains
As handsome as the invitation into His heart, a black blindfold
With polite odes to my implied majesty, embedded with a rusted knife.
Enchanted, I pursue His sanctuary, painted scarlet with the blood of His victims,
The yard dappled with the remains of men and women, dry and bloodless, eyes stolen.
Yet I see nothing; the blindfold had stolen my sight away alike.
He leads me to the sun, and He leads me to the stars.
He inquires of my dreams every morning, and blesses them every night.
He rapidly praises my flowing hair, burning blazes of the sun,
And my deep eyes, mellow rays of the moon.
I only sense Him through the love of the darkness granted to me.
But as I rest silently on the bed of the gentlest roses, His rusted knife freezes my throat like ice.
I feel the sleek steel slide slowly across my skin, its ancient rust crumbling like
The pollen of a fresh spring flower.
But the sliding of the metal knife is halted, and His frozen tears fall into my empty
Eyes, true and loving, eternal as Heaven's summer, kind and promised, as His soul is donated to
My empty heart.
My eyes are replenished, and my spirit is not scarred with pain, but polished with experience.
Shame and fault do not surcease my life;
The dead man that lay on the carpet, with the knife he holds thrust into His own heart,
Now truly floats above the surface for eternity.
Love is not stripped from my heart.
My soul is not dead, and my mind is not traumatized.
I am new, and I now walk on the side of Life.

And here's an old short story I wrote but never finished (sorry for any spelling mistakes, I worked on this late into the night):

Rune wandered the woods, lightly traveling the indented paths in the soft earth and bright foliage that she'd traveled so many times before. Behind her flowed the orange and auburn fox-pelt cloak, which she killed the Winter of the year before. Her brother, Reme, who was also about eight but much less mature, wanted an animal cloak to show off to the other children in the small settlement of Vina-Ahn Isle. They weren't directly related, for Rune's biological parents were unknown, but they had been friends since they met and considered their selves siblings. She caught the innocent fox sniffing around in the pile of scraps left out by the villagers and shot it with an arrow just as it noticed her, but when she brought it back to Reme, he refused to wear something so life-like. Out of agitation and desperation to discover just how much she knew about tailoring, Rune turned the paws into gloves and boots, and the rest into a hooded cloak. She cut the eyes out so she could pull the hood down like a mask, shaping rawhide to use as an inner mold to stiffen it. She then coated it in several powerful scents, including jasmine, eucalyptus, sage, garlic, and cinnamon for protection of being noticed when hunting. Unlike most of the village's inhabitants, Rune seemed almost immune to the most repulsive scents, yet she was know to have a keener sense of smell than anyone else known to Vina-Ahn. In fact, she also had the best senses of hearing, touch, and sight, though she had barely any taste in food. She was good at a lot of things that required the use of concentration and accuracy. It never crossed her mind to cry when something perished, for in her belief, Hell is lived within life, and Heaven is never lived at all. She seemed to have a strong connection with the forest and jungle. If she were to be left alone, she would slowly and obliviously wander towards the forest, almost like a magnet. She would eat any meat, from farm-raised pork to a wild peacock. She climbed well, ran fast, excelled in archery, and instantly knew any equation in the field of science, whether it was modern and known at the time or centuries away from the current human knowledge. But the most peculiar thing was that though she looked fifteen, she never seemed to grow significantly. As implied earlier, she was about the size of a large fox. She was small, but vicious when she needed to be. A few weeks after she was first found in the wild, when she was around five years old, she disappeared for half an hour and came back dragging an elk by its neck, completely unscathed. No matter how many times people asked how she did it, she wouldn't answer them, and would just continue on her normal life. For this the settlement named her Rune, for her mysterious personality, hidden by a history she would never reveal.

Links to stories / roleplays: http://krazydelaney.deviantart.com/gall ... iterature/
Other: I have more stories on my other computer, which I'll upload later if I'm accepted.

[I'm Not The Only One]

I was watching this orca documentary, completely uninspired, when this little plot began to work inside my head, to do with the orcas. They are very interesting creatures actually, and have a much harder life than you'd think xD, but that's off-topic, so the would anyone be interested in reading a whale story if I do end up writing it? There are some pretty major gaps at the moment, but I know the direction it's going to go.....just interested in some other writers opinions

{{Yes, I have posted this on Inklings as well, but the more opinions I get the better! Thanks}}

[abandoned.]

i don't see why not Lorde i mean, there's the warriors series, there's the seekers series, and then there's also the arctic tail, julie of the wolves, and so many more ^-^ it'd be unique and different :3

[I'm Not The Only One]

Thanks abandoned I'm going to have to do a lot of research as well xD

[princess pudding]

The following members have been accepted:

Chickenpaste

If you have not been accepted, please do not post. Try practicing your writing and apply again.
There is always room for improvement! If you have any questions, feel free to contact me.

Early acceptance; I'll be absent for a week starting tomorrow.

[Chickenpaste]

Thank you. :3

[a_bowtie]

*is slowly dying from lack of sleep*

Besides that...

I'm thinking about writing a book, or at least a long story.
It all came from a song mash up and I'm in love with the plot in mind.
Would anyone care to read something about a doctor who's escaped prison, disguised himself as young unemployed man, who just happens to get hired at another hospital? There would be quite a bit of graphic material, such as cursing, gore, and addiction, but I really want to write it. .//.

Should I toss the idea and crawl into my pit of death?

[climbing{the}world]

Write it! C: