Writers! Come and Talk About Writing!

I wrote another prompt this week, 2 out of 13. I'm not very happy with it (I started it and it kinda went in a weird direction) but I'm not very good at writing stories without dialogue. I guess it was nice for practice!

Spoiler

Lover's Walk

(Prompt 2 - Write a story without dialogue)

The darkness was sparkling that night, though usually Ruby felt suffocated when the sky had lost all its light. It was a full moon, casting white and light blue light on the slightly damp and slick street, still wet from the rain. Every once in awhile a pair of blinding headlight passed her by, going to a destination that was beyond the light brunette’s knowledge.

Ruby sometimes wondered about what it would be like to live in another person’s life; wondered who the people in the cars were; where they lived, what their family was like, what their dreams are. So many people only make a small cameo appearance in Ruby’s life (she’s probably made appearances in thousands of other people’s lives too) but she wished she knew something about all of them. Each nameless stranger that passed her by had a life of their own, a different story. Every. Single. One.

These thoughts always twisted Ruby’s mind until she was dizzy, it was quite a lot to think about.

When her mind was tired, she always thought of Sonja. Her thoughts had traveled over the dark brunette (That was also finally her girlfriend!) so many times that Ruby figured that she had memorized every last detail of Sonja. Those toned arms… soft lips… tawny skin…

Ruby’s thoughts were interrupted by a group of shouting skaters down the street, causing her to smile a little. She herself knew how to skate a little, (thanks to Sonja’s lessons. Ruby still had a small scar just above her eyebrow from a fall) but not too well. She was better at biking and horseback riding than skating. (Sonja had a sense of balance that was far beyond Ruby’s understanding, but it was sexy as hell)

Ruby watched a girl skate down the sidewalk skillfully and smartly, long hair flowing out behind her. The others whooped at her as she quickly pivoted her away around the street, her smile beaming. Ruby’s eyes met with her and they grinned at each other.

Ruby took a turn down another street and slowly the skaters’ whoops became little more than small disturbances in her silent stroll. She checked her watch. It was 10:30. She was going to be late home, but she had to go see Sonja, who had been going through a bout of depression lately. (She had been skipping school and moping in her room mostly and it distressed, no, alarmed Ruby to see her girlfriend like this)

She turned down the walkway up to Sonja’s house, smiling goofily to herself as it started to rain. She knew that the surprise visit would lighten her girlfriend’s mood.

Ruby skipped down the rest of the walkway, feeling the rain pouring down on her, making her hair more dense with moisture. She knocked on the screen door lightly, in the special pattern that let each other know who it was.

No sounds came from the house except for the slightest noise of small feet making their way down the stairs. Ruby remembered that Sonja’s family had probably gone to bed by now, so it was good that she knocked instead of rung the doorbell.

The door opened silently and Sonja smiled, happy tears in her eyes. (she always was on the verge of tears whenever Ruby made a surprise visit) Ruby dragged Sonja out on to the porch and kissed Sonja for long, eternal moments, Sonja’s gentle hands and long fingers stroking through her girlfriend’s wet hair.

They stood out there for what could have been seconds or centuries, in silence. Just staring and kissing and hugging.

Ruby (the superhero she was) saved her "damsel in distress" once again.

 

^ ReadBeauty, what do you mean you're not happy with it? It's excellent! Very well written.

 

Really, you think so? I feel that it's a little rushed and there's not a lot of coherent plot to it, mostly it just feels a little short for me.

 

Pssh, your reservations are not needed. It's got plenty of plot for such a short story, and the limited length doesn't hurt it. It is quite adverb-heavy and a little wordy in places, but not at all bad style-wise. Ruby strikes me as sensitive, observant, and very much in love, and I imagine that was the point so you did a good job.

Unrelated, but should we make a separate thread for submissions? The "EC Flash Fic Thread" or something similar, and then we can keep writing and criticism there while keeping this one for general.

 

I say do it. It's your idea, I'm not going to steal it, but I think it sounds like a good idea.

 

Ooh! Y'kow what'd be fun? A thread like this, but someone (OP?) gives prompts, and the others…get promoted? I dunno, but I'd write the hell outta that.

 

I made a forum game for writers a while ago where the next poster must simply incorporate the previous poster's main character into their story as prompt. Didn't take off though.

 

So. I have a bunch of writings. But, due to my lovely brain, every time I think about posting them somewhere, or putting them up where someone I don't know might see, I get super anxious and can't do it.


Any advice on overcoming dat fear?

 

Post it under an alias. You wouldn't be the first.

 

I've started writing a story about an astronaut chosen to enter a black hole. In doing so, he realizes that he is trapped and the only way to escape is to become "God of his own universe". my hope is to explore the true nature of our concept of god. otherwise it's also a way for me to explain how such a idea might be possible. but it's still just science fiction.

 

I made it in Fun and Games. Thanks for your encouragement!

Couldn't be me; I'm not quite creative enough to fire off prompt after prompt. There's also a subreddit called /r/writingprompts where people come up with amazing ideas. Check over there.

Sounds awesome! Sort of a combination of Interstellar and Asimov's "The Final Question". I'd be really eager to see it. Do try not to be too hard on the scientific realities, because as far as we understand, you can't go into a black hole. In his own experience, time would appear to slow down so that he wouldn't ever experience entering it before he died. o.0

 

Oh I won't. it'll mostly focus on what the Character learns and how he uses what he learns. You seem to have stumbled on my inspirations for writing my story.

 

All right, I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna put myself out there. Keep in mind, I'm at work and this is the very first draft. Please be gentle.

Spoiler

The Clown in a Man Suit
Part One
Keith was an ordinary man. He worked an ordinary job, had ordinary interests, and never got himself into any exceptional adventures or situations. He liked his life. It was easy, and nothing unexpected ever popped up. But Keith had this one thing…

You see, Keith made a decent amount of money at his job. Just enough that he had a decent little savings. Every now and then, he would splurge a little bit and go to a movie, or a carnival. Something to get him out of the house. Sometimes, though, he wished for a little more excitement.

So, on these nights, Keith would don a ski mask and a pair of black gloves. He would take the pistol he kept locked away in his nightstand, and go find a nice, dark alley. There, he would lie in wait for the first person to come through. Then, as they approached, he would surprise them, whip out his gun, and demand all of their valuables.

This was one of THOSE nights.

Keith sat behind a large dumpster, knife in hand. God, did ski masks have to be so warm? He supposed so. They were, after all, ski masks.

He heard two sets of footsteps approaching. One was the heavy, determined gait of a larger man, the other the other the quick one-two of his female counterpart. A grin spread over his face.

Perfect.

He waited until they drew right up in front of his chosen dumpster. He had picked this one specifically because the light was out above it. As the pair drew closer, he stepped out from behind the metal bin and raised the arm holding the gun, aiming it at the man’s head.

“This is the hard part,” Keith started. He had long ago developed a rhythm, a script almost. He stuck to it, and 90% of his muggings went smoothly. The other 10, well, he had never claimed to be a saint. “This is the hard part. You give me everything valuable you have. You,” he gestured to the man. He wasn’t much taller than Keith, but had definitely known a life of luxury. His belly extended far beyond the confines of his belt.

“Empty your pockets. Toss everything down in front of me.” The man obliged, tossing down a fat leather wallet and a newer model phone. “You got a watch? Shake your head yes or no.” The man nodded his head. “Toss it down.” The man reluctantly removed his watch-a gold one, new- and gently placed it on the ground. “Good. Now, you, toss down your purse.” The woman did as she was told, and lowered the bag down. “Now comes the easy part. Walk away.” The two started backing up slowly, until they were out of the alley and around the corner.

Keith stowed his pistol in the pocket of his sweatshirt and bent down to collect his ill-gotten gains. He smiled as he pulled a fat stack of twenties out of the man’s wallet. It had been a productive night. He was about to open the woman’s purse when he heard footsteps from the opposite end of the alley. One of the person’s shoes had a slight squeak, and it sounded as though they walked with a limp.

Perfect.

Keith straightened up, hand going inside of his pocket. He turned around pulling the gun out at the same time.

“Stop right where you are,” He said calmly. The figure froze under a burned out street lamp, hands half raised. Keith took a step forward, squinting to see the person. They seemed about his height, but it was hard to tell: their back was slightly bent.
“Is this the hard part?” The figure asked. They had a higher pitched, raspy voice. Something in their tone was mocking, teasing almost.

“For you, I’m afraid so.” Keith pulled the hammer back on his gun.

“Oh, what are you afraid of,” The shadowy figure teased. “Is it my face? I understand, coulrophobia is a very serious condition.”

“Cool-row-Shut up. I can’t even see you,” Keith said, starting to get annoyed. “Step into the light, empty out your pockets.”

“Well, if you insist.” The person stepped forward. Keith stared at the person, confused. They wore a suit that was all at once too small and too large. His sleeves rose almost halfway up his forearms, and his pants went down only to his shins. Despite being short, everything was extremely baggy, hanging off of his frame. But this wasn’t the strange part.

The man, for he was indeed a man, had makeup on his face. Not makeup like a woman might have, or even a man wearing a woman’s makeup. His lips were bright red, and all around, the rest of his face was colored bright white. His eye sockets were painted a dark blue all the way around, and the very tip of his nose was painted black. His eyes themselves were bloodshot, and his bright blue irises stood out all the more because of it.

Keith took a step back, despite himself. The fuck was wrong with this guy?

“The fuck is wrong with you, guy?” He asked. His voice sounded more uncertain now.
“Guy? GUY? Excuse me, sir, but I am a transclown, thank you very much,” The man said with mock outrage. “My preferred pronouns are ‘Clown,’ ‘pitre,’ ‘fossor,’ or ‘Your Clownship.’”

“What the fuck.” Keith aimed his gun at the man’s head. The more he stared at the man, the worse things got. He noticed flecks of blood on his shirt collar and stark white socks. On his lapel, there was a chunk of something fleshy, and bloody. Keith noticed something poking up from the back of his jacket.

“Hey, what have you got there? Take it out, nice and slow,” Keith demanded, his voice wavering a bit.

“I mean, we only just met, but…you’re cute.” The man lowered his hands and began to unzip his pants.

“Not that! You fucking freak.” At this word, the man’s face dropped, and he fixed Keith with an angry stare.

“You know, I was just going to kill you. But now, I think you’re going to get a slow death,” the man said. All traces of playfulness had vanished from his voice, and it seemed to have dropped an octave.

“Okay, look. I don’t want to kill you, and you’re unarmed, so. I’m just gonna gather my stuff and go.” Keith bent down to pick up the woman’s purse and the watch. When he straightened, the man in front of him had a golf club in his hands.

“I just wanted to show you my one wood.” The clown let out a throaty, gurgling laugh that made Keith’s hair stand on end.

“All right, listen pal-“ Keith started, backing away.

“This is the hard part,” the man said seriously. He swung the club viciously, knocking the gun out of Keith’s hand. Keith yelped in pain, and started to run.

“YOU GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE,” the man yelled. He chased Keith a ways down the alley, before swinging his golf club again. The heavy wooden club smashed into the top of Keith’s head, making his eyes water and sending him to the ground. He lay there moaning, and the man’s body blocked out the light above him. He wore a manic grin, and his breathing was ragged and heavy.

“Now comes the easy part.” He lifted the club high above his head with both hands. Keith raised his own hands to protect himself, words feebly falling from his mouth. “Night night!”

The clown swung the club, and Keith’s world went black.

So yeah. There will be more written. This is a series of stories I want to write about a character I have (the clown). Thoughts?

 

Imma be a hipster for a minute and say that I WAS a scary clown before scary clowns were cool. :lol:
/hipster

Anywhay. Yeah, what I posted was honestly just an initial draft. No editing, didn't even read it back. Just wrote it and posted it. I will go back to it at some point, but Part Two will be coming soon.


I fully support a contest! I'd love to do it!

 

Has anyone tried flow writing? It's where you set a time fkr say 5 minutes and just write whatever comes to your mind in paper. The catch is you have to keep writing, you cannot stop for the 5 minutes. I've found this has been great to get new ideas and ti just get the writing process on the way. And a lot of times a coherent narrative seems to form out of nowhere!

 

I just came back from a "trip" where I wrote story 47 written by the #8. This is her syphony called "the colour wars". It's the story of the #8. She is the emerald princess. And she is forever asleep but she can hear and feel things. The story begins when she can feel Orange dancing for his life and dancing to awake up the emerald princess but will eventually fail. Mr. Purple who is the bard sings. And they embark on a journey to wake up the emerald princess.

 

Poetry is my absolute favorite! Possibly because I love to write songs and I love songs with poignant lyrics that hit you hard. Lyricism is so important to me and it's an important aspect of music for me, once I get into the groove of a song, I'll start focusing on the lyrics and dissecting them and learning and understanding the meanings of a song. But I've also tried writing a book and it didn't go well, it gets really hard once I reach the climax of a story to keep it going. But I wanna get back at it soon!

 

I disagree, I think the story was heading somewhere and I think there is a huge story that can come out of it! Characters are just as important as plot. You can't just dive into your plot without establishing your characters.

 

So, I've had a lot of trouble lately staying focused on my writing. I am working on one project almost exclusively at the moment and want to have the rough draft done by the end of the year. Right now I am aiming for getting 5,000 words done a month. Any advice? Suggestions? Thanks!