Writing & Literature - Aspiring Writers Blogs on Artician

Download Fonts Free by will12

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 12:58:41 EST

The Internet is not only a source of information--it's a mother lode of freebies. There are so many things you can find and download at absolutely no cost (and considering how easy it is to click and earch, at absolutely no effort as well).Free sites are some of the most popular on the web tod

Why hello there! by marlesque

Fri, 18 Mar 2011 11:46:11 EST

Fancy a chat? I'm Marlesque, or more commonly known as Willow. A friend led me here, and I'm rather enchanted with the whole look of it. It's certainly an interesting community, and I love that blogs are viewable by the general public.

Visual art wise, I doubt I'll be posting anything. In all honesty, I'm rather intimidated by the level of professional art here, but that's fine. Unless I churn out something that I truly love, most of my submissions will be my writing.

Currently I just have up 'The White Rat', which is a kind of humorous narrative between two characters from my in-progress book 'Clockwork Sight'. Gabriel is a sort of scavenger/scientist, building monsters from (mostly) mechanical pieces. Orca belongs to my friend Ali, who gave me permission to use her character in my story (because I love him :3). The two of them aren't close friends, exactly, but they certainly have something. I hope you guys enjoy their antics, I might post a few more things between them.

Besides a bit of humor, I write mostly suspense and horror stories. I've also been playing with a new character named Seth, but more about him later. I'm a fan of Steampunk, which is the technical genre for Clockwork Sight.

If you have a particular request for a story, feel free to drop me a line. I may give it a go. I'm always interested in character bios, I love how creative people can get on their characters, it just floors me and makes me feel insanely uncreative.

Well, enough about me, until next time anyway.

TALLY HO!!!!

projects in line. by KABuTO.

Mon, 8 Nov 2010 15:56:31 EST

Oh hey it's a blog explaining everything about my art.

well, I do have about one project sporadically on the go, it's a comic/manga and technical sequel to "china tea" just putting events of Japanese, Russian, ect, ect mythology in a bit of a more modern day setting and exploring mythology and how it changes in the modern world.

It has demons and delicious girls thats the hook really.

But don't expect to be that great I came up with the story on the fly to stretch and get critiques on my on it to improve, thus possibly allot of style change within it.

But you know girl unhappy with life a bit of a weeaboo likes the occult but bitches about what it's become. buys something bang demon comes out of it and is now in her care and they go explore mythology and slight drama along the way, basic plot be done before but I like to reimaging it.

China tea is technically a prequel since it's coming after this still unnamed project..?

Well it's basically a Yuri set in japans past, with demon girls. (Mostly female cast it's a Yuri after all.)

There are a few arcs in it, but Ill update it when it comes to the time.

Colour blind series:

"Kosmos" comes first, can't explain anything due to spoilers.

"Children of the morgue" comes next and it's basically an exploration on diseases in story formats, leading onto:

"Colour-blind" basically an exploration of war and different ways of life, what the world might become, bla bla.

All projects will not have a set release dates but they will come in order of each series.

Seriphyn Knight Chronicles: Scene 7-09 by kiyasart

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 04:23:27 EST

The horror was obvious on their voices and with good reason. Kailas lips twitched with words but nothing came out. What did they want me to say that I was at fault? I wasnt! For once in my life, I wasnt going to be blamed for something I didnt do.

It wasnt me Master. I wanted to add on and say I would never hurt my friends but held my tongue. Just stick to the facts girl. I could almost imagine a lengthy lecture on what I did do prior to all of this.

He stared at me for awhile, judging my responses perhaps. When it seemed the night breeze was going to freeze our bones and turn us all into icicles, he spoke.

Then go with Edde and help the others.

I acknowledged his orders with a nod and started toward her.

Neven dont let me hear that youve used any form of magic again, The Master threw out over his shoulder. I turned and gapped at the wise magicians robes riling up more dust clouds. He honestly believed it was my fault then?

I opened my mouth itching to respond then closed it. Fine Ill stick with Edde.

I give Master Dago a wide berth as he made his way to his colleague. It wasnt wide enough for the scowl he threw my way. I hurried to Eddes side.

You alright?

I nodded my head.

She sighed and gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder along with a smile. It was warm and reassuring. Tears welled in my eyes but I fought them back; they were quick to dry under the cool night breeze.

The masters returned with orders to make our way toward the front entrance, which was still intact, and to the utility room that was located toward the right of the entrance foyer. This was where the Porter resided along with provisions we needed for a journey. We were to ask the Porter for packed bags and a way through the Darkseed Lanes.

Kalia was none to pleased when she saw the awkward spaces we had to squeeze through because of the fallen chunks of cliff that had blocked off parts of the side walkway.

This journey is a pain in the ass, she cursed as we made our way to the front entrance.

I wheeled around to face her. Did she mean I was a pain in the ass? It was obvious, from the moment we left the temple, she wasnt happy to go. Id even say as far as pissed off. I had to hear her say she was pissed off at me.

You hate this so much do you?

Her eyes flinched at my reaction then narrowed. Of course I do! I have had to walk sick flee with my life from those spiders and worry what the hell is going to happen next!

You didnt have to come you know!

Kalia screwed up her face as if she was in pain.

You have no idea Neven. She stepped nearer so she could whisper her words. You think I wanted to come? The choice wasnt mine.

My heart froze. Something terribly heavy and horrible sunk low in my gut, dragging my stomach down to my knees.

Youre lying.

Her expression smoothed into one cold and heart-breaking. Im not. You forced me here with that magic of yours. Id as rather be some where else.

Neven Kalia stop lagging! Edde called out, seemingly unaware of Kalias revelation.

I felt Kalias body trail away from me like an unforgiving chill slapping against my skin. My head throbbed with raw pain and crushed memories. The tears I held back stormed to my cheeks. Suddenly, I wished I was drowning in the river again.

Neven! Edde called out. I felt her hand on my shoulder, about to tug me around.

I pulled it off and faced her. Kalia stood at the door as still as a statue. Edde looked worried.

Im sorry I put you through this. Follow the Masters orders, I must follow mine.

I turned and ran up the ruined path toward the obscure darkness before me.

Seriphyn Knight Chronicles: Scene 7-08 by kiyasart

Sun, 20 Dec 2009 22:11:51 EST

My throat itched all of a sudden. I coughed to try and clear it and felt it itch even more.

Kalia, I coughed and opened my eyes to semi darkness and deep grumbling sounds. Suddenly, my cot was shaking.

Holy Mother! I cursed as I was shaken out of bed. I shuffled over to Kalia and shook her awake.

Get up K!

What the hell! Kalia mumbled and soon found herself screaming her way out of bed and dodging a huge chunk of rock that had fallen out of the wall and onto her cot.

EDDE! Kalia screamed. Her eyes bulged with fright.

I grabbed her arm and yanked her into the corridor but the scene was no better. In fact it was worse. Thick clouds of dust blanketed the area, making it difficult to see. I gagged at the bitter stink of mildew and limestone stuffing up my nose and covered my mouth with one hand.

Kalia, Neven, I heard a few paces before us and saw Edde curled over. She stood upright and made her way to us.

Girls youre alright, she coughed with relief. But, relief was short lived.

The way before us exploded into showers of rock. We were knocked backwards into the nearest wall. Bits of brick and mortar rained on our heads.

Ouch! Kalia moaned. I hugged her side, hoping it would suppress the pain I felt in mine.

Other slaves stumbled out of alcoves in a mad panic for the exit at the corridors end. We soon found ourselves amongst a frenzied mob and pushed further toward the back wall.

Stop it! I yelped as body parts bruised my sides and slammed into my stomach. Ugh-gog, I spat out, tensing against the pain and trying not to fall over and die.

The way behind me exploded into a high pitch shrill. My body cringed with pain; I felt my ears were about to burst. Debris knocked me to the ground. I narrowly missed a chunk of rock that wouldve squashed my head if it had stayed put.

We ave to get outta ere! Edde shouted over the din.

I was hurled to my feet and pushed into a walk. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Edde guiding my body through fallen debris, toward an opening just visible between dust clouds.

Ugh! Kalia cried out as a crowd of panicking slaves knocked her into an alcove. I searched around for her and hoped I pulled up the right person. The air was so hot and black now, it was hard to see. The ground shook again.

Now yousee know Ish have returned.

Pain swelled at my temples, I felt drained and so tired that I wanted to lie down and stop breathing.

Ish have returned!

Torch light sailed toward me. I felt locked into place.

NEVEN! My name whistled around me. Time slowed as my head was knocked to the side, dodging flames by a hairs breath. I fell to the ground, breaking free from the semi daze that had almost killed me.

Come on, Edde ordered as she hauled me to my feet and dragged me out of dangers way. We fumbled our way out of the corridor and found ourselves standing in open air. Kalia waited for us, along with a handful of surviving slaves and the two masters. I faced the way back, my heart beat for the shrieks and painful cries behind me. I jumped back as the opening crumbled in on itself. Soon the screams of those left behind were entombed silenced. Half the mansion had turned into big piles of rumble.

Neven, Master Asuras stormed toward me. I lowered my eyes toward the clouds of dust his boots made, tell me this wasnt your doing.

I gulped and glanced around. They all stared at me, waiting for an answer.

Elaine! Prompt Dump One. by Alynnyang

Mon, 30 Nov 2009 16:17:02 EST

This is going to be my first prompt dump, for Cielle. (I'm also her manager).

1. Our souls entangle entrance yes hold on to me tight.

2. Control all lies as they become your truths. Ghosts of the past haunt torment strangle.

3. You lived your life, as I watched from a cage the cage of my mind.

4. Dying, deceiving, arms grasp for hope. But no, it doesnt come... instead the hymns of the forgotten reach their ears.

5. Throw away all reality, succumb succumb breathe the water of my desire.

6. The skies they close in, the waters deep the rain splashes relentlessly but the cold calms us, our heads together as we pray for freedom.

7. Screams shouts death, the merciless they are coming destroying sowing disorder. My hand reaches for yours but it is too far.

8. My scream is smothered, my eyes are closed, my hands are bound I am weak.

9. Our bodies are together, the dance it is a blur, as I am swept up. My eyes they can only see you.

10. Can I say that it is divine? As I look between the lines, I feel so fine. Youll never be truly mine, but Ill still look for the sign.

11. We held hands, walking in the park, and enjoying each others company. Thinking back now, I truly miss those days and you.

12. Unrequited... and I still believed even when you were gone I still loved you

13. Although it hurts to remember, I feel my soul longing, for that time when we were together. It was such a blissful time, when we thought it could last forever

Thanks

--Elaine Massin.

Phantasmagoria on the move again... by Shaibelle

Tue, 27 Oct 2009 21:27:55 EST

Well...it's been a while but I've had a few large bursts of inspiration and creativity lately. I've added about twenty pages in the last two days, and for me that's pretty good! lol I'm a slow writer so it's fun when I write a bunch all at once. Occasionally I'll cover sixty or seventy pages in one night, but this isn't that amazing yet.

So the point is the story's back to progressing. I was stuck in a rut for a while and I've been trying to work my way out of it for the past few months. *sigh* Writer's block is no fun...and fighting through it isn't easy for me. But it's coming. It will be a book one day! I'm sure of that much. I hope. ;

Maybe someday this will actually seem important.

And I'm going to Tennessee this weekend! So yays! I get to see my brother and sister-in-law. Hopefully it shall go well and we shall eat at Olive Garden.

Hello There by Sisck79

Wed, 16 Sep 2009 00:00:19 EST

Well, it has been a while since my last blog, but I find myself pondering what to do in my idle time. I can say I havent drawn much lately except for a picture of an Eagle, which I did not have a chance to upload before I gave it to Adam Savage. I do find that my art has been suffering since I have graduated from school last year. I gathered that I can find most of my time to draw exceptional stuff, when I am busy or extremly motivated, but motivation and busyness are both full available in the empty department.

On a lighter note, I have been working on a treatment for a movie about the lost civilization of Atlantis, and about a romantic tradgey in which two friends are getting ready for their high school graduation, and just hours before it happens one of them dies. I dont know how to flesh them out into the way a screenplay should be, but hopefully I would develop them into some sort of Novel first. Maybe in due time I might upload a chapter or two in my blog. But right now, I just need something to keep me grounded.

Untill Next Time.

Captain Kirk is climbing a moutain. Why is he climbing the mountain.

Chris O.

endeavour by superpowerant

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 23:44:05 EST

my first move

in my every sunrise minute

to start the engine of my daily endeavour

is smile

stopping me to smile

means stopping me to learn

stopping me to learn

means stopping me to think positive

stopping me to think positive

means stopping me to breath the oxygen!!

say yess to smile in everyday of yours!

lost you by superpowerant

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 23:42:53 EST

Filed Under (cloudy brain) by superpowerant on 05-04-2009

i never realize that i love YOU,

until i lost you yesterday.

ignoring you was the hugest mistake

that ive ever done in my entire life.

now i know why did destiny

always keeping us in touch..

coz nothing can separate us from each others,

but the death.

sorry for being so overdue to realize

your existence in my f***ing overflowing moment.

lovu.

A New Pen by alsofrainham

Mon, 20 Jul 2009 11:27:37 EST

A new pen.

Untold possibilities.

A word of ideas not yet penned, not even thought.

May I now call myself a writer?

Yes, I bought a new pen today. It's something I've wanted to do for some time, buy a proper pen. It was after - or possibly during - watching 'The Hours' for music (we are studying the score), which is about Virginia Woolf and how her books affect their readers - it follows the stories of three women, which all mirror 'Mrs Dalloway' or the life of Virginia Woolf in some way. It's a very good film. I recommend it. There was a scene, opening with the line 'I think I may have a first sentence', which showed her choosing a pen from a pot of many. But I like the idea of having one pen, a separate one, just for writing. It feels like the tool of my trade. Not that it is my trade (yet), of course. But it is where I am aiming, and I can always hope.

It's a Parker. Not a fountain pen, but I still love writing with it. It just seems so easy, suddenly - the ink rolls out out onto the paper, and just looks different to other writing, more mediocre writing. I have a notebook, you see, where I write all these thoughts that I want to write more artistically (or so I think to myself). It turns into a diary sometimes - the lines are blurred. But can my diary (or blog) not be an 'art' form? They all seem to be much the same to me; my voice does not change. It is true that I always write as someone new - but they are all part of me, somewhere - perhaps hidden away, but there. And I want everything I write to be something I am pleased with, happy with, would want to read. Then I am always practicing, too.

Something random from Class... by Shaibelle

Tue, 9 Jun 2009 16:01:24 EST

So hey! This was my final project in creative writing, the start of a mystery story...unfortunately I never got around to the mystery explanation part of the opening thingy...but this is what I have, I love it. The teacher did toooooo! <3

I'm glad. I was freaking out about so many exams. Anyways, here's what I have thus far.

`~`*`~`

The golden blade danced across the battle field followed by a streak of crimson blood-red flames. Mirroring the streaking metal was the womans sun-lit hair flailing in the unnatural wind of war. Scarlet armor of dragon scales adorned the swift and gentle curves of her body, leaving all, but her profile, encased. The flare of flames from her hands followed by a clearly animalistic roar echoed across the desert in a comparatively icy hatred. In her wake warriors fell without ever landing a single blow, she was untouchable, or so it would seem. Blood drained from every crack in her armor and ever more from her mouth as she fought to breathe. She was dying.

From the distance, kicking up a cloud of dust immense enough to cover over nearly a mile in any direction, came a single creature. It towered nearly six times the size of any man, its silver-white fur swirling as it ran. The air around it seemed to bend light towards the massive beasts glowing yellow eyes and spiraled evil grin. Appearing a cross between a sky dragon and an enormous wolf of some sort the animal was effectively terrifying in all essences of the word. When it roared a response to the girl with the golden sword, everything froze for a matter of seconds, the battle stopping altogether.

Throwing itself into the air the beast sailed overhead of a human battalion, taking out the next when it landed and skidded into them. Roaring a second time it came to stand over the girl as she stabbed her sword between a set of stones and used it to support herself. This roar was worse than the first, tearing through the minds of men like the horrid snap of ones spine, resonating with the sounds of thousands of wailing and shrieking men and women as they died. Numb from the sheer pain of the sound, the woman places her hand gently on the animals leg and sighs as her body drops to the ground.

In a panic now the creature lifts its paw to examine her, then draws her further under itself, and unleashes a third and final bellowing roar many times worse the other two combined. Every soldier on the entire field realizes they are about to die and begin their terrified fleeing, knowing in their hearts it is in vain. The beast tears after them, kicking sand and rocks everywhere in its frenzy, shredding with tooth and claw anything that merely resembles a human being. Clamping a man in its jaws it snarls and throws him across the sands, slamming him into a rock wall with force enough to shatter his armor and leave a splash of dark red across the stones. All others within range of the creature were slammed to the ground by the creatures elegant and whip-like white tail.

Turning its great head it narrows all six of its amber eyes and grins, the demonic spiral twisting its way back into view. The men do not see, nor will they ever. Its jaws hang open now, wide enough to fit a full grown man, and it hisses. It was not a sound made by the beast; it came from somewhere else, from the purple haze materializing from its mouthThe haze devoured the air as it sped towards the men, surrounding them and then eating away at them until only a skeleton was left to crash to the earth where they once ran. Even the bones began to age until they were simply blown away in the desert winds, hidden forever among the sands. Every living thing in that dared to threaten the woman was annihilated.

The haze returns to the creatures still open jaws and flows into its mouth and eyes, the beast breathed the substance creating another hissing sound. Glancing back at the stilled woman lying upon a crop of rocks, the beast whimpers and paces to her side; blood was smeared across nearly all of the once pearly-white fur of its face, only worsening as it nuzzled the woman at its feet. Gradually the beasts body alters and it becomes a man, a man in the simple black garb of the Victorian ages. Encasing the woman in his arms he unclasps the belts of her armor that lined her back and sides until the plates release and allow him to free her. Barely any of the white on her shirt remained, it was all the deep red of blood.

Immediately he begins running his hands across her stomach, feeling for something unseen. Within her curved and blood-soaked frame was a baby somewhere, he knew not how to tell if the poor child was alright, but at least it remained inside her, for the time at least. His face hardened in worry he rests his head against her heart, vying desperately to hear her heart beat. Instead of a heartbeat he hears her voice, Whatre you doing-? Her words were weak and slurred from fatigue. She pressed at his head to move him and sighed in a manner most exasperated. Iris, get your head off me.

The man, Iris, sits up, still clearly worried, and rubs at his earth-toned long hair. I thought you were dead, the innocence in his voice makes the woman smile.

Not yetfeeling like crap, yes. Dead, no.

`~`*`~`

Note: please don't steal my creatures! The wolf-beast is my signature beastie. Plz don't take him from me!

Micro-writing by Kryptonbornson

Sun, 7 Jun 2009 01:24:43 EST

I've recently started writing a story on Twitter called The Man Who Couldn't Be Convinced. I think I've done like 500 words in a couple of days, not impressive as far as raw output, but that's hardly the point. It's writing at just a little bit at a time. I can use my cell phone to tweet or just do so directly from the website. I've been using a small note book to jot down things that come to mind, but I'll likely stop. It doesn't feel pure.

I mean, I'm only going on a vibe anyway, I have no idea what I'm writing, no point in trying to refine it. That's why I think there is so little pressure. It just turns into what it turns into, no scary blank page, no pressure to write a bunch of generic words to try to meet a quota. At most, I'm trying to make the best 140 characters I can, then move on. The short form is beautiful. It gives great instant gratification, I'm only worried about making a good couple of lines, not a good story, not a good book. My only goal is to feel good about my last line. When I tweet, it's there. It's not coming back up, it's not getting erased, but I know I feel good about it.

What I plan on doing is not letting anything, except certain things flow too long and those themes are pretty simple. That way there won't be too many loose ends that need to be tied. If I don't write on it for a day or a week, there won't be any vibe to lose. I'll simply read the synopsis and keep going.

It feels good so far.

I have to admit, maybe it's something to do with our short attention spans, but reading sentences in burst is easier to read than dense paragraphs, even over a long period of time. Most importantly it's easy to write and it is satisfying. I feel like my mind is on the writing all day, like I just want to come up with my next good 140 and what it could possibly lead into.

Another additional benefit, I'm twittering at this point as much as I had been smoking. I was almost ready to give up my cell phone, perhaps now I won't. It'll be a good release. I could go outside and one-handedly type out pieces of my story. Maybe I'll get one of those Twitter devices when they come out. It won't replace a laptop, but it could be a good thing.

Rather than worrying about writing novels, this might translate over better into being a full-time artist. Instead of writing scripts to animations or comics I'll just write what happens in Twitter. At least in comics, if the artist is the writer most of the composition usually comes in either thumbnails or page layouts.

I hate writing blog conclusions, it makes me feel like I have to wrap up what I've learned or what observation I've made. Perhaps that's why I'm starting to like Twitter. It's just what I want to say.

Free Choice by killerbicycle

Sun, 31 May 2009 21:37:51 EST

I'm not sure how to tell you this, the cause of my existence is just as shrouded as the shadows we inhabit. I can tell you that I long for more than just the absence of color, I have resided there the entirety of my life, I have grown tired of the black abyss. You have what I cannot, that is why I have bound myself to a human.

But why me specifically?

It seemed fitting.

What is that supposed to mean?

You were already separated from everyone else, you lack any physical or emotional ties, you were already in the dark. No one seems to mind that you hardly exist, and now that we are coming to an understanding, you don't seem to mind as much. I guess I could let you go back to your life, would anyone notice? Would you want to? What is back there, in your two dimensional life that you so desire?

Nothing! But it doesn't mean that it's right!

That I have taken advantage you? Or taken advantage of everything you took for granted?

I have no choice now! You have taken the use of my free-will!

This is true, but also something you were not taking advantage of. What were you doing in your life? I watched you for a long time, and you didn't exactly like your life, if you recall.

I could have changed! I still can! If I had the choice i'd do something so much more with my life, but its gone now, you've stripped me of my options.

What would you do so different, that you would be happy with who you were?

I-I-I would go to school, and get a degree, find a good job and get married.

That sounds like a lot of fun.

Oh, and you would know?

You forget I've been inside of your head. I've seen your interest in my affairs, our actions. And there is much more we can do, much more we can accomplish. We can have a long, interesting life. Or you can sit as an audience of one, and look upon in disdain and regret. I am offering you what has never been before, coexistance, the best of both worlds.

I don't know. I'm not sure.

I'm giving you a choice. You understand right?

Yes.

What is so difficult then? Why not? Life in the shadows isn't exactly bright, but your life isn't exactly sunny either.

That may be true, but it still doesn't make it right for you to control my every action and know my every thought. My mind is sacred to me, and me alone.

That is understandable.

I don't think its a fair compromise.

You can listen to me, my thoughts, I can be just as much a host to you as you are to me. It will be mutual, for the most part. We won't be conducting ourselves normally, and that goes both ways.

I still don't know. Why do i have to be apart of this, what if I get killed in one of your crazy stints? What if I get hurt? What is going to happen to me?

I've done well with you thus far.

But I don't know what's going to happen, to you or myself.

Neither do I. But do you really care? What do you have to lose?

I-I, no. No I don't care. I have nothing to lose. You were right to choose me.

So...

Well, that makes it final. A mutual co-existance it is then.

I've never done this before, but it seems like a step in the right direction.

So what now?

We go to the drop-off.

What's there?

Our next assignment.

Do you know where it is?

But already the shadows were gathering around me, and I knew the answer to the question. Amidst the thought, I saw a tall, dying oak in the middle of a moonlit field, the only shadows were beneath the decayed boughs. I felt the shadows pull me, I stepped into the blank abyss and felt the thrust as I traveled many miles to this place. I arrived underneath the deadened branches, in front of the old oak, and noticed the darkened hollow in the trunk of the tree despite the surrounding moonlight. I peered inside and noticed a folded, pale, white note, and I was immediately curious.

Difficulties by killerbicycle

Thu, 28 May 2009 19:54:16 EST

It seems overly difficult finding information on creative writing. It seems there is only so much to find, and it is so narrow, yet so broad. I have a great interest in writing fiction, but I just don't even know where to start. I don't know where to generate ideas, characters, a plot, or even a damn story that could be interesting even to me. Too bad everything that comes to mind has already been thought of. But maybe, perhaps, that's the only way to create something new. That's a different take on it all. I currently keep coming back to the Idea of both the shade, as well as the idea of genetic memories, similar to Assassin's Creed.

What about someone who grew up fairly different, tried to be normal, always the "Suffer in Silence" type. But he was always "dark". Was always able to blend in and hide in the shadows. He ends up picking up a job with a CIA type of entity, or even more secret or underground, like the camona tong or etc. At that point it can split off between several options... CIA uses him, knowing what he is; CIA casts him finding out what he is; CIA finds out what he is, unlocks his shade abilities; CIA casts him out and he discovers his abilities; CIA forces the info out of him, and he breaks out and or wreaks havoc... I'm sure there are more. And then from there, then what? what does he do thereafter? To find out what he is and why? to discover his history? that sounds too boring. What if he discovers hsi history and finds something much darker? This seems a little too common. Well if he found out who he was by genetic DNA, then he already knows his history. Well, maybe he doesn't have to, just learn of his abilities and powers. But what makes this story significant? are there any twists, I mean it cannot seem straight-forward, through and through. there needs to be Back-stabbing, treachery, stealthy cloak and dagger... Destroying his family, and or his history unbeknownst to him. That still seems too common a story. There's got tobe more I can twist in and out, I just don't want it to be too common. I guess I don't know if it is common because I haven't read enough, or maybe I have.

Ender's Game was similar to that, when he killed the buggers, he committed Xenocide unknowingly. In Oblivion, in the dark brotherhood, you kill all the central members by the traitor's orders. I guess, its not nearly as common as I thought, because that's all I can think of, i mean it was sort of mentioned in Elaine Cunninghams Drow novels, but not entirely. Perhaps I can work on this idea some more. I'll look into it more, maybe join a forum and ask around.

Saggy mattress of death (5min) by killerbicycle

Mon, 25 May 2009 21:02:21 EST

The heavy lump was suffocating the life out of me. My lungs struggled with every inhalation, every exhalation was sharp and short, not even worth the previous effort. My fragile, bonded arms flailed underneath my crushed body, making my breathing more staggered, the sweat slicked my skin from every pore. I noticed a little give in my bindings around my wrists, I continued though my lack of oxygen to my already tired and bruised muscles made it so difficult, almost impossible. What if I do free myself, then what? i'm still stuck underneath this weighted mattress and this rotten stench of decay. I'm sure i'll suffocate, if not lack of oxygen, then of this horrid odor reeking of death. What if I'm dead already and I don't know it? There was more give in the bindings though they were rubbing my wrists, raw. The sweat and the movement of the binding were like salt in the wound, it made me cringe as it pinched a nerve in the back of my neck. I fought back the tears and continued to rip my hands free. It was so dark, and there wasn't any room around me, I was completely encased under a mattress!

---end of six minutes.

Character by killerbicycle

Mon, 25 May 2009 03:50:43 EST

While I was watching previews for Terminator Salvation, i got an idea to experiment with. A highschool or college student who has either by accident or on purpose altered his genetic make-up and or DNA. This being said, its hard to determine how he happened upon all of this. Maybe not his genetic make-up should be altered, but perhaps his molecular, so that he may bond with various elements, particularly water, metals, a few basic chemicals, gases, etc.

It is difficult to choose which alteration.

On the one hand, If it is biological, it can easily occur by accident in class. However, if it is molecular, i'm not exactly sure on the why, but it's almost certain it would be by accident. The whole accidental thing makes it more comic-bookish, which I don't like. I wish for the character to be vampiric in various ways. If it were molecular, he would absorb the energy from various elements. But if it were biological, what would he absorb, their life, and how? That sound too over the top. Character creation is difficult. It would be amazing if i could give my character shadowstuff, but how? Not to mention it would be a copy of Cale and Kemp's work. I can't do that, that's just not fair, not to mention un-original. But everything I've read, says to go with it. Best case scenario is I create a shade that is either a gun for hire or Black-Ops or something similar. But how did he become a shade, I don't know.

I'm really enjoying this.

If he's not a shade, he'd be a vampire, but certainly not a werewolf. Super Strength and Endurance, Super Stealth, Super Agility and Dexterity. I love the idea of "melting into something". If a shade, can technology still regard him during his actions?

But it cannot be all about his abilities, that's not the coolest thing, there must be depth in the character, something for the reader to relate to, feel for and understand.

You know, Cale so closely resembles what's his face from "The Darkness". Given, the story(ies) are pretty different, but the character traits are very similar in some ways, and very much the same in others.

I am continuously attempting to analyze how Myers became so very successful, why there was an outburst of readers, and that her series is so damn successful. I'm also trying to figure out why Authors like Paul S kemp and Salvatore, aren't more well known. I assume it is because they are forced or have chosen a much smaller genre, or reader base. I'm not sure what genre Twilight falls into. and based on research, it doesn't fully satisfy any genre particularly. It is romantic, but not romance, it is fantasy, but modern, it is vampire based, but in a completely different vampire way.

friday i'm in luve.... by nazra

Sat, 9 May 2009 12:58:51 EST

hidup xslalunya indah..yang indah tetap hidup dalam kenangan

Novel-y goodness! Yay! by Mordred

Sat, 9 May 2009 01:37:26 EST

I finally emerged from my writer's block, and was able to get writing on my novel! I started it back in November for NaNoWriMo, but I didn't want to just scrap it when December rolled around, so I decided to keep at it. For the longest time, I wasn't able to think of how to go about a certain part, but I had a beautiful epiphany while trying to take a nap, so I literally sprung out of bed and shouted, "THAT'S IT!" and got to writing.

As of right now, I'm on a roll with chapter two. My passion and excitement for TKR has been renewed! Thank you, O, Writing Gods! You have shown me that I am not an utter failure! [/Worships]

woosh by WerewolfOfTheWater

Tue, 28 Apr 2009 04:42:26 EST

Today I abandon the last shred of what connected me to my stupider days.

If you look at my gallery you might notice some changes

In a setting that's completely unrelated to Japan, and actually more tied to an older north america than anything else, I can't stick to everyone having obscure japanese names

that is all, though