So it's very early in the morning, I couldn't sleep anymore and in trying to find something to occupy myself I came across this idea and decided that I would give it a go. This idea is mostly born of a mental stall but I'm hoping that it will be fun and useful for any who choose to participate.
The Goal of this Thread:
Here I invite anyone interested to join me in creative writing exercises. The premise is that someone (I will give a starter) will suggest a subject and any who wish can submit a writing on said subject. I hope that someone else out there is interested!
Guidelines:
All posts most meet expectations posted on Art, Music, and Writing Rules.
Any writing on a posted subject will be welcomed, these should be: descriptive paragraphs, poems, or short stories. Short stories should be posted as links to their location so as to avoid extremely long posts. Constructive criticism and encouragement are also welcome as long as they aren't spam. Please look for the most recently posted subject before submitting writings.
When the time comes for suggesting a subject I will maintain the right to veto any I don't feel are appropriate. I want this to remain a creative thread, not a debate thread, I will thus shoot down any subjects concerning politics or religion. Any other subjects that do not breech forum rules will be acceptable. Once there are a few people involved (assuming there is any interest) I will arrange for subjects to be voted on by participants. I will ask that subject suggestions be sent to my profile. Thank You!
Starter Subject: An apple.
The crisp red skin of the apple gives way with a snap as she bites into it, revealing the soft white flesh contained within. The sweet juices rush to meet her tongue as she chews, savoring every droplet of flavor. Every bite brings more of the apples succulent aroma. Every tear of her teeth releases more of the tangy juice. Soon she is wiping juice from her chin and licking it from her fingers, reluctant to waste even a drop of it's powerful elixir. The apple's flesh is gradually torn away and only the core remains in the end.
So, I know that's not much of a starter but like I said this is an idea born of a mental stall. So show me what you've got people! Thanks!
LOL thanks Poison I didn't even notice that screw up! And you're completely right I meant partially. I guess I'm a little off today. I look forward to reading your story. =D
Hey, I've got two stories to write! One for my own thread (Because the computer with what I'd already written is still at the shop... >.>, one for this thread!
But I'm almost done with my horror story.
Just gotta write the last few paragraphs.
By the way, nice word fail, TurtleToes. :P Kiddin'.
I would like to make a few specifications on this one. If you would like to submit something on a real-life comedian I would like to ask that you do it article style. What I mean by this is that I want you to do research and site your sources. I don't just want a lot about how awesome you think they are and a whole bunch of copied jokes. I don't like imposing these restrictions but with something that invovles really people I feel they are nessecary. Anything fictional of course doesn't have to meet these standards because it is fiction.
There are. . . stories. Tales of intrigue. Mouth-woven tapestries, depicting scenes of pure, unrefined horror.
Fortunately, not all of these are true. Ask a skeptic, and he or she will tell you that none of them are real. And how could they be? word of mouth about one's vengeful spirit haunting a place that it is tied to by something physical that related to it before its passing; Campfire tales of hideous, fanged beasts with razor sharp claws and piercing red eyes who snatch up little kids and feast upon back in their hypothetical habitat.
It all just sounds absurd, to say the least. And why shouldn't it? Humans like the shock and thrill factor of a good, morbid ghost story. The particularly imaginative believers like hearing late them for the sheer terror of staying up, jumping at every shadow you see out of the paranoia that it might just be the monster from that story you just heard.
But professionals say there is a distinct contrast in a legend and a story. Stories are just that: a story. Nothing more than fabrications manufactured for amusement. Legends, however, are actual accounts of the supernatural with evidence and eyewitnesses of the paranormal events in action, passed down through the years.
The following is my very own account of a particularly scarring legend: that of my tour of Alcatraz.
Alcatraz is a well known maximum security prison. It has been abandoned, however, and is currently in a state of disrepair. It is a popular touristâs destination due to its vivid history and the tales that surround it. Ghosts of prisoners who were killed in marvelous escape attempts and whatnot.
I had decided to take a tour of the island. Of course, being a firm non believer in the supernatural, I had nothing to worry about as the tour guide spouted off drivel about the paranormal going-ons. Unexplainable cold spots, chains beyond the visible spectrum making rattling noises, smoke flittering up with no fire to be seen. I wanted to tell her to shut her trap, but I didn't want to get any cold stares.
The tour was dull and under-stimulating. The woman showed us the cells and facilities but wouldn't let us go in, and I was here because I wanted to get a close look at the jail cells of famous inmates, but we couldn't even go inside because of "occurrences beyond the human plane."
Utter bull. So as they rounded the corner, I moved to the back of the group so I could slip away inconspicuously. It worked.
I quietly made my way to Al Capone's very own cell block. I loved the story of Al Capone and his mob. I wanted to see if maybe there was anything in his his cell.
I was let down. Nothing of particular interest. I tripped over something, but I couldn't see what it was. I groped around in the dark to feel what had tripped over, but there was nothing there. Remembering the light on my key ring, I turned it on in front of me and it turned out I was lying parallel to the bed. I groped around again, this time under the bed, and found what looked to be a nylon guitar string. I was amused by this strange find and stretched it out between my fingers and my teeth then plucked it with my opposite finger. It made a "Twang" noise, almost as if from a banjo. And then, I remembered Al Capone played the banjo in a prison band. Perhaps I had just made a historical find.
But then something hit my eardrums. Banjo music?
I spun around on my heels. Nothing there.
More music. This time accompanied by a cold spot.
Still nothing. Was my body playing tricks on me?
Music again. This time louder... closer.
A face covered in open sores materialized out of the darkness. In one hand it held a banjo. The other held nothing. But it reached out and grabbed my shoulder. All went black. *** I woke up to someone nudging me, rocking me back and forth on the ground. The tour guide? Yes, it was the tour guide. I wasn't punished for staying behind, but I received a stern warning. It didn't matter. I blindly scrambled to the exit. ______________________________________________________________________________________
I'm terrible at endings. I'll leave it to you guy's imaginations.
Your horror story was pretty good. I liked the fact that you built on real world legend. As for mockumentaries, I would say that should be okay. Just make sure to point out that it's mock so that we don't get people freaking out because they think it's serious. Put a disclaimer on it like they have to with Superman costumes (Warning: Wearing Superman costume does not give you the ability to fly).
Now for something I wrote, with this disclaimer: I'm not much of a poet and I only spent like 20 minutes working on this so don't be too hard on me. =)
Stand Up
He takes the stage The mic is on He tells a joke The crowd is silent He tries another A bottle flies The crowd jeers
Another night Another stage A new act He tries his luck Its just the same The crowd won't have it He's pelted by a dinner roll
He starts from scratch Rewrites the act He just wants to make them laugh A new stage A new crowd He tells a joke The crack up begins
I'm so tired right now, I guess it was a blessing that I had to do yard work though hearing you guys talk. I finally missed a nasty image woot! But I am curious who did it.
And I might sit this writing topic out, doesn't really interest me...or maybe it is just the state of how tired I am.
