Be Right Back, Uninstalling

(06-12-2012, 02:42 AM)Azure_Angel link Wrote: [ -> ]Kira

I can't really write fiction, though. I'm more of the written rant type.

(06-12-2012, 02:32 PM)TOH link Wrote: [ -> ][quote author=Azure_Angel link=topic=6383.msg247198#msg247198 date=1339486925]
Kira

I can't really write fiction, though. I'm more of the written rant type.
[/quote]

I was waiting for someone to post that... And all forms of writing are accepted.

I can post my seminar paper on why the FTC should zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

(06-12-2012, 03:53 PM)Surf314 link Wrote: [ -> ]I can post my seminar paper on why the FTC should zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Should what!?  Don't leave me hanging!

@ azure: can't tell if the students are high-school or college. I associate room-mates as a college thing, and buzzers and "periods" as a high-school thing. That, and most male instructors wouldn't refer to younger female students as "love" unless you are foreshadowing some pedo plot-line. The gun on the mantle in Act I, and so forth...

(06-12-2012, 05:52 PM)rumsfald link Wrote: [ -> ]@ azure: can't tell if the students are high-school or college. I associate room-mates as a college thing, and buzzers and "periods" as a high-school thing. That, and most male instructors wouldn't refer to younger female students as "love" unless you are foreshadowing some pedo plot-line. The gun on the mantle in Act I, and so forth...

It's supposed to be a private high school. The first paragraph didn't copy into the post. I just now realized that.

Also it's love in the queen's speak sense.

(06-12-2012, 05:44 PM)ZargonX link Wrote: [ -> ][quote author=Surf314 link=topic=6383.msg247256#msg247256 date=1339534439]
I can post my seminar paper on why the FTC should zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Should what!?  Don't leave me hanging!
[/quote]

Do a better job of looking at patent acquisitions by companies looking to use them to disrupt their competitors business. And then several thousand words.

I did do a melodramatic short story a bit ago that I never got around to really editing; I could post that in a bit, if you guys are looking for a fiction dump. I much prefer writing in a more simple, understated style, so it was quite a leap for me.

In before the Erotic Fanfiction. 

(06-12-2012, 10:10 PM)LT Crow link Wrote: [ -> ]In before the Erotic Fanfiction. 

Just you wait. I'm going to do a slash fic with the Heavy and Indiana Jones.

Quote: Merc link=topic=6383.msg247304#msg247304 date=1339555737]
I did do a melodramatic short story a bit ago that I never got around to really editing; I could post that in a bit, if you guys are looking for a fiction dump. I much prefer writing in a more simple, understated style, so it was quite a leap for me.

Go ahead and dump that's what the thread is for.

It began in the fall, when I saw you across the dining hall. It was a party commemorating something of little consequence, the years have smudged my memory, blurred the unnecessary information from my mind until the only clear thought I had was of you, laughing amongst strangers in suits they couldn't afford. Your golden hair cascaded down a beautiful form fitting red dress. It was that very moment that I knew I had to have you.
The docks behind our home are chilly during this melancholy fall morning- drizzle falls onto my weathered hands as I untie the rope and place you in the boat. I lower myself and push off the docks, setting us adrift in the lake.
I approached you, at that forgotten party, drawn to your infectious laugh. Drawn to your eyes. Eyes that are as gray as the waters around us. I somehow made an impression on you, with my inexperienced and nervous stumbling of words, and my rented tuxedo, and you kindly spoke to me, well into the night.
The going is slow, on our boat. I paddle, feel the water churning from my rowing. The mist from earlier has increased, soaking me to the bone, draining my warmth away. But that will not matter for long.
It surprised me, when you agreed to a date. The fair was in town, and I was so sure that you would be called upon by dozens of suitors. When I mentioned my fear, you gave one of your infectious laughs and said it was true, but you wanted me instead.
Cutting through the mist and gray, it comes into view, our special place. The island off of my family's land is far from expansive, but it was still a decent size, and at the top of a large hill, just above the thrashing rocks and foamy water, it provided a spectacular view of the lakeside. A calming view on most days, the sort that gives you a steady object to attach your resolutions to.
We were married in the summer, it was an outdoor affair, we sang and danced with our family's in the golden wheat fields. As the setting sun stole across your back, and you gazed deeply into my very being, you radiated hope to me, you were my anchor in the storm.
The boat hit the shore with a jolt, one that I have not prepared for. I fell to the side and cause the boat to tip over. It causes you to topple out. I want to scream at the indignity of it, but instead I wordlessly pick you up in my arms instead, and I brush a strand of you gray hair away from your tired face.
The years flew by, we celebrated like children at every success. I grew into a well known stock broker; you a defense lawyer, and we felt invincible. Of course, we hardly only loved one another during the good times. Together, we weathered harsh winds. The miscarriage, your sisters funeral, burying our only son after an ambush on his platoon. These hurt us almost more than we could resist. Still we held on. Still we rode the waves together on our boat.
As I step foot onto the island, the call of gulls overhead caught my attention. Even after your crippling arthritis prevented you from coming here, you would watch the birds. You would spend hours on the back deck, and you would tell me all you could about them. Their mating habits, longevity, dietary- I would listen to you, enraptured as if I was a child again. I would listen, even as the years took away your crystal clear annunciation.
That memory, of your voice failing you, brings to me the thought of us leaving the doctors office. It's something that was burned into my mind, etched into my fiber. The doctor spoke kindly to us, but kept his guard up, not wanting to grow too close to a terminal patient. You took the news in stride, keeping your composure until we got to the care, where you leaned against my shoulder and wept bitterly.
Ahead, the path leads upward, through switchbacks and slowly up the hill. My knee argues against the ascent, but I ignore it and continue to carry your too light body upward.
The last few months were the hardest, the radiation treatments left you disjointed, weak. A shell of your former self. It was all I could do not to burst into tears upon seeing your once lovely face lose its luster, your body eating itself from within.
In the distance, I can hear the sirens screaming from the road leading to our home, the police desperately trying to hurry.
Earlier this morning, during one of your lucid periods, you confessed to me one simple fact: you wanted it to end. You wanted the pain to go away, you wanted an escape from your delirium enforced prison. You wanted an end.
I manage, panting and wheezing, to make it to the top. The mist has let up slightly, I can just barely see our home. I see the police searching the interior, and a few are at the docks. One even braves the cold waters, diving and swimming towards us at a brisk pace.
The lace pillow I held in my hands as I overlooked your body felt like lead. I could barely keep my courage in check as I listened to your labored breathing. Then, before I could look away, before the rational part of me could speak through my scotch aided resolve, I struck. I covered your face with the object. You awoke midway through with a muffled scream, and beat upon me reflexively, clubbing me with your withered hands. After a moment, the blows ended. You succumbed and escaped the pain, the suffering, the godforsaken humiliation of the disease killing you, and all was still.
The policeman who chose to swim finally came to the shore of our island, our special place. He stops by the capsized boat. Realization dawns on him. He fumbles to a side pocket and produces a radio.
Bile rose in my throat as I made the call. I told them plainly and without shame what I did, and where to find you. I hung up, and carried you out to the docks.
A powerful wave is a signal to me, as is a single shaft of light that peaks through the gray haze of clouds. I know I must act now. I place you gently on the peak of the hill, and through my blurred vision, I kiss you on the forehead. The seagulls cry out for you as well, my dear. I look up at them, ignoring the policeman as he speaks frantically to me. I choose to ignore him, instead, I follow the advice of the birds above- I take my own wings and spread them. With one last look behind me- one last look at you- I run forward. And I fly.

My friend who is studying creative writing took a look at this thread since it is relevant to her interests.

For Azure, here is her constructive criticism if you are interested:

"It's a good start. I can see where you're going with this, I think? A love story for Ivan who had an unfortunate childhood. If that's correct, maybe you should focus on just Ivan for now, rather than switching between Ivan and Kira. It's a little jarring. Also, the tense change took me out of the story. Past or present, you should decide which works best for the story and stick with it. Because of the prologue, I would suggest keeping it all in the past tense. It's also a more traditional way of writing, and easier for a lot of people to read. At the moment, the prologue is a little like a summary, too. You could try to get more into the scene. Perhaps if we stayed with the mom, instead of even seeing the husband, that could really make it more real. We find out WITH the mom that the husband has been in an accident. It really does get the reader more into the story"

No comments yet for Merc's story. I'm waiting for the slash fic I hope you make it into a songfic as well. Also don't forget to throw in a few OCs.
I don't write fiction for serious, only parodies for fun and laughs so I don't think I'll be contributing my own writing to this thread.

(06-13-2012, 12:53 PM)Käse link Wrote: [ -> ]My friend who is studying creative writing took a look at this thread since it is relevant to her interests.

For Azure, here is her constructive criticism if you are interested:

"It's a good start. I can see where you're going with this, I think? A love story for Ivan who had an unfortunate childhood. If that's correct, maybe you should focus on just Ivan for now, rather than switching between Ivan and Kira. It's a little jarring. Also, the tense change took me out of the story. Past or present, you should decide which works best for the story and stick with it. Because of the prologue, I would suggest keeping it all in the past tense. It's also a more traditional way of writing, and easier for a lot of people to read. At the moment, the prologue is a little like a summary, too. You could try to get more into the scene. Perhaps if we stayed with the mom, instead of even seeing the husband, that could really make it more real. We find out WITH the mom that the husband has been in an accident. It really does get the reader more into the story"

No comments yet for Merc's story. I'm waiting for the slash fic I hope you make it into a songfic as well. Also don't forget to throw in a few OCs.
I don't write fiction for serious, only parodies for fun and laughs so I don't think I'll be contributing my own writing to this thread.

I really appreciate the feedback Although I think I'm scrapping Ivan's story. I found I've been having more fun writing about Kira than Ivan. Which is why his story keeps getting less and less.

I'm not good at giving real feedback, but I love the detail you give Merc.

RIP Ivan we hardly knew you.

And for Merc:

"This story already has a lot going for it. An old man with such a tragic ending, it's heart-wrenching. I can follow the story line easily enough, and when I realized he was going to jump, I wished I could stop him. There are some things that could use work, though. Second person is rarely suited for fiction, and I think it would be better if the reader wasn't the woman. I couldn't relate to the her well when I was supposed to be her, but the presence of "you" forced me to try. I think it's more important to relate to the old man, anyway. (I'm assuming this is a man, I apologize if I'm wrong.) I'd also suggest varying the lengths of your sentences more - this helps immensely with flow. Also, while this is one of the few cases where past and present tense may work together, keep an eye on which you're using where. A few times, we get tense shifts within a paragraph. Another thing I noted is that, at times, the prose becomes a bit flowery. Many times, simplicity works best, with few adjectives and simple verbs."

(06-13-2012, 02:31 PM)Käse link Wrote: [ -> ]And for Merc:

"This story already has a lot going for it. An old man with such a tragic ending, it's heart-wrenching. I can follow the story line easily enough, and when I realized he was going to jump, I wished I could stop him. There are some things that could use work, though. Second person is rarely suited for fiction, and I think it would be better if the reader wasn't the woman. I couldn't relate to the her well when I was supposed to be her, but the presence of "you" forced me to try. I think it's more important to relate to the old man, anyway. (I'm assuming this is a man, I apologize if I'm wrong.) I'd also suggest varying the lengths of your sentences more - this helps immensely with flow. Also, while this is one of the few cases where past and present tense may work together, keep an eye on which you're using where. A few times, we get tense shifts within a paragraph. Another thing I noted is that, at times, the prose becomes a bit flowery. Many times, simplicity works best, with few adjectives and simple verbs."

Thanks for the look over! I actually prefer simple sentence structure usually, my writing style is more influenced by pulpy detective novels over anything else, but I really wanted to try something diffrent from my norm, haha.

Moar stories! The hamster is hungry!

(06-13-2012, 02:15 PM)Didzo link Wrote: [ -> ]RIP Ivan we hardly knew you.

Ivan won't disappear, he'll just take on a supporting role. :p