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 Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 4:51 pm
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I'm making this thread for any of my fellow writers out there who would like to post some short stories or something. Or maybe give a small sample of a book they're working on, so they can get some feedback from other fellow writers. Remember, we're an art community, and one of the best things for us to do is share and help each other with our art.
Myself, I'm gonna post a little bit of my ooooooold Zelda fanfic (well, one of them anyways) which I started writing YEEEAARRS ago, and never really got far with it cause I started focusing on other stuff. And yeah, I know, it really sucks, because like I said, it's old. But anyway, enough rambling from me for now.
Here's the first little bit of Shine On, You Crazy Diamond:
Edit: REMOVED
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Posted: Fri Sep 18, 2009 3:44 am
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Posted: Fri Oct 02, 2009 4:42 am
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Sorry if it's a bit long. Here's my little entry:
Quote: The SleeperMy consciousness returned and I became aware of the fact that I was lying down. On what, I was not certain, but it wasn't altogether uncomfortable. I tried to recall exactly what had happened to me. Nothing seemed wrong, my memories were perfectly intact. The last thing I remember was... dying. My memory of the exact moment of my death or how it came about was fuzzy. I don't exactly know how I died, only that I did. I didn't know what to expect when I stood up and reluctantly opened my eyes. Perhaps a vision of heaven or some other kind of paradise. I didn't see any of that. None of the brilliant white lights that I've heard so much about nor loved ones waiting for me. Instead, what I got was a park. Just your simple everyday park with trees and branches and flowers and grass. 'Was this heaven?' I thought. The place seemed utterly devoid of life, aside from the vegetation. No animals or people at all. It was strange for a park, or for heaven (as I supposed it was) for that matter. Though I guess a place for dead people would be without life, as distressingly logical as that was. I walked around, trying to make sense of what was going on. In my wanderings, I happened upon what seemed to be a boy in his late teens. The boy was lying face up on the ground under the shade of a large apple tree with his eyes closed. He appeared to be asleep. I didn't really want to interrupt his peaceful slumber but he was the first sign of life that I had seen in this place. I reached out my hand to wake him when one of his eyes opened and immediately focused on me. Surprised, I drew back. His single eye continued to peer at me though he made no other movement. His lips parted as he posed a single question, “Lost?” Still a bit shocked, I tried to form a coherent thought but he continued speaking without waiting for my answer. “Of course you are, otherwise you wouldn't even be here in the first place, now would you?” The boy then gave a long suffering sort of sigh, as if he was already tired of speaking to me. I took my chance and blurted out the question that had been plaguing my mind ever since I arrived in this place. “Where am I?” “You're here,” the boy replied boredly, looking at the cloudy sky with his open eye before closing it. “Where else would you be?” Annoyed at the boy's vague response, I asked a more direct question. “Is this heaven?” “If you want it to be, sure.” “So this isn't heaven?” “It might be heaven. Then again, it might not. I wouldn't know. If you want it to be heaven then it is.” “Is this place real?” I inquired, thinking that this all might just be some very realistic and weird dream. “It's only as real as you let it be.” “You're not making any sense.” “Maybe you're the one who isn't making sense.” Frustrated, I asked another question. “Is there anyone else here?” “Here? No, no one else is here. They don't like this place very much.” “They?” “The others, I suppose.” “There are others here?” I asked, excited. “There are others, just not here.” “Where are they then?” “Somewhere else.” I brought the palm of my hand towards my forehead. I could feel the beginnings of a headache forming. “Where?” “Somewhere else,” he repeated. “Well, how can I get there?” “Just follow a path.” “A path?” I waited for a response but the boy stayed silent. I looked around and saw countless paths that the park had, some of which I had probably travelled on before to get here, though I hadn't noticed at the time. Each path seemed to go on indefinitely, and some were even joined together by another path. All in all, it was extremely confusing. And now the boy was saying I had to walk on just one of them? I turned and lowered my head to look at him. “Well, which path do I take?” Still the boy remained silent and I became aware that I could here no other sound in the park other than my own breathing. It seemed rather... lonely. The boy now looked as if he was sleeping and this time I wondered if he actually was and whether or not I should try to wake him. My thoughts were interrupted when he spoke out again, his voice suddenly disturbing the silence. “Doesn't matter. Any one of them will do.” Perplexed, I wondered how that might be. “They all lead to the same place?” “No,” he said, pausing before continuing on. “But you'll find what you're looking for regardless of the path you take.” My brows furrowed as I asked, “So... do all paths lead back here?” “The beginning and the end are the same,” he remarked offhandedly. A few moments of silence passed as I contemplated what he said. “Hey,” I started, slightly taken aback when my voice broke through the silence that had pervaded the area but continued regardless, “If there are a lot of people, then why aren't there any here? Aside from you, I mean.” “I told you, they don't really like it here.” “Why not?” “I wouldn't know.” “Do you?” I asked. “Do I what?” “Like it here.” “I like it better than anywhere else, I suppose.” “Am I dead?” I asked suddenly. “I wouldn't know. Are you?” “I don't know either, otherwise I wouldn't have asked in the first place.” “Well,” he began, looking thoughtful, or at least looking as thoughtful as a person who looked like they were sleeping could. “Do you know if you're alive then?” I blinked, flexing my fingers before stretching out a hand towards the sky. “I... don't know. The last thing I remember is dying. But I feel alive....” “Then you're alive if you think you are,” he stated simply. “Doesn't really matter either way. At least, not here.” “Why not?” “Even if you were dead, you'd still be here, wouldn't you?” “Well, I guess,” I said. “So this really is heaven?” “If you want it to be.” “So, we have eternal life and all that?” “I suppose you do, if you think you're alive.” “Well, what if I thought I were dead?” “Then you'd have eternal death.” “Isn't that completely different? It doesn't make much sense.” “It does to me.” “What do you mean?” His eye opened and looked directly at me before closing once again. “It really doesn't matter either way.” “But why?” I slowly asked. “Because whether you think that you're alive or that you're dead, it's just basically the same.” “Why is it the same?” I asked, not giving in until I had a definite answer. “Because you'd still exist. Whether you think you're alive or dead doesn't really matter. You'd still be here anyway. Eternal life, eternal death, both just mean eternal existence.” The boy sighed again before mumbling, “Not that I want to....” “What?” I said, straining to catch what he had said. “What don't you want to?” “Exist.” “Huh?” “I don't want to exist.” “Well,” I started to ask, trying to make sense of the boy. “Why not?” “Why not?” the boy repeated, amusement clear in his voice. “There could be any number of answers to that question. I suppose the most fitting answer for me is....” He paused and were it not for the fact that the place seemed utterly devoid of sound, I was sure that I wouldn't have heard his next words which were barely above a whisper. “I don't want to be awake.” A few moments passed before I was able to find my voice. “Is-is that why you always look as if you're sleeping? Because you're trying to sleep?” “Trying to sleep? I suppose you could put it that way. I'd really rather not be awake, at least not in this world. Not if it's just this. It's not the actual act of sleeping that attracts me so, you see, though I admit that sleeping has a charming quality all to itself,” he explained, a whistful tone in his voice. “It's the dreaming. I'd rather dream....” I stayed for a few moments, standing in silence next to the boy who looked as if he was sleeping. Eventually, I turned around and picked a path to walk on, mumbling a farewell under my breath. The boy gave no reply.
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Posted: Fri Oct 02, 2009 2:37 pm
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Posted: Tue Dec 13, 2011 9:34 pm
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I've got a ton of short stories from my high school days, but I'd have to go downstairs to fetch them, and I don't feel like doing that right now.
Ever since grade 10, I have been trying to work on a novel called Beneath the Horizon, which takes place in Halifax and Atlantis, as the latter is where most of the story takes place. I actually finished a rough copy, but it was a little too rough, so I decided to try a rewrite, which bombed, and then another rewrite, which (you guessed it) bombed. Before said rewrites, I was partway into a sequel, Beneath the Horizon: Sunken Ruins and has the main group from the first explore a sunken ship.
I haven't completely tossed that idea away, but have started a new story called Below and is actually going to be a manga. However, I've only spent time on characters; some pivotal, a few cameo. There's going to be 3 mains, Ramona Wicket (dies in human world, or "Mortal Coil"; goes to heaven; stuff happens to advance plot) Cassandra (heaven, or "Divine Realm" as I'm calling it) and Thamuz (hell, or "Netherworld")
Thamuz is basically going to be Ramona's best friend, and Cassandra's gonna be like a guardian angel (no pun intended)
I've got some details down about the first bit, where Ramona goes to heaven, is sent to the judge like all humans before her to await sentence; is found guilty of something (haven't figured out what yet) but somehow finds a path to the Netherworld, where she becomes a succubus, only after encountering trouble and Thamuz rescues her. The rest of the story is up for debate.
Although I'm not worried about it right now, practically all of the characters (excluding Cassandra) in the Divine Realm and Netherworld are based off religious figures, and since I don't know which religions outside of Christian, I'm probably going to get flack for their characters, as I intend to make them as close to their descriptions I found on some sites. For example, Thamuz is, from the site, an ambassador of hell and master of weapons; in my story, he's a blacksmith. Another example is Shalbriri, the demon of blindness; her character is going to be blind as well.
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Posted: Tue Dec 13, 2011 9:46 pm
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Posted: Thu Jan 26, 2012 1:26 pm
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Posted: Thu Jan 26, 2012 1:33 pm
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xDemonhornzx Kallori I'm actually starting up a LinkxMalon Fanfic. What are the odds? Just curious, but what was yours about? Agh, I still have it. Really should have finished that, it wasn't far. But I have some mental block to writing fluff. Anyway, it was about Malon crushing on Link, simple as that. He comes in between temples and she helps him cope with the drama.
Sounds interesting. so the main focus (concerning setting/locale) would be the ranch? I'm just guessing here.
My take is a little more adventurous, as Link and Malon have 3 kids, and the main focus is around the twins, Martel and Rioan (boys) with a younger sister who helps around the ranch. The "adventurous" part comes when the boys have to set out on a quest to destroy a great evil (not ganondorf; this is completely original)
I've got some other ideas, but I'll save them so as not to spoil, but other than that, that's all I have so far. |
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Posted: Thu Jan 26, 2012 1:46 pm
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Posted: Thu Jan 26, 2012 2:16 pm
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Puppet on a String Theory
Philosophizing Bibliophile
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Posted: Sat Mar 09, 2013 7:55 am
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My face is reflected in the water...
It's a shining grin full of hope...
No Roads Left
Standing alone in the midst of the trees, I began to wonder how I fell so far behind. I stood and stared at every winding bend, only to see a long blinding end. I knew not which path to take, or if it could be in my best interest to follow each, until there were no roads left but one. But in all of that… I knew I was searching for perfection, and yet I also knew that it was something I would not find. Surrounding me seemed to be the thickest of growth, and in my wake, I only saw the thickest of growth. My breath became heavier, and I knew not what to do.
In this instance, I merely began to walk. Time only appeared to be frozen, as wherever I went seemed to be perfectly the same. Darkness, trees, overgrowth; that is all that I ever seemed to see. There was never any light, and never a single clearing. Everywhere I looked, I only noticed more paths unfolding, and never knew which to follow. This frightened me; stressed me and pressured me. I began to fear my outcome, and I soon became aware of all of my flaws.
I started to become devoured by these fears and flaws. I was searching for what I could not find. I began to let myself down, and for only those reasons. I now had not a single clue as to what I should do. I turned, and just as before, only saw the exact same image portrayed in every single direction. I began to run- I began to run until the silence were to split me open; until it put me beyond human eyes; until it left me with no breath- and until it put me with no roads left but one.
At that, I began to wonder what my purpose there was. How did I end up here? I thought to myself. Once again, now out of breath, I glanced at my surroundings. I did not know how to escape this predicament, and I felt that the only way to go around was to go through. I felt like I deserved it all, and with fair reason. I sat down, in the middle of everything, put my hands in front of me, and questioned myself. Why does my pain look like my pride?
I stood up again, and turned. What I saw astonished me. It was not just another tree, it was not just darkness, and it was not just mere overgrowth… What I saw was light- a light that was pressing itself through the thickets and branches and leaves. At the sight of this, again I began to run. There was no longer the silence to split me open, and my being would forever be kept in sight. Now there was no regret, and there were no roads left to run.
At this moment, as the light embraced my body, I realized what I had not known before. Perfection was never in my reach, and I could not fear that which was never possible. I could not weep for the roads untraveled, nor the sights unseen… And as I passed through, I found amends for my heart left broken, and let my mistakes pass on.
... Or it could be a look of somber silence struggling with fear...
What do you see reflected in your face??? |
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Posted: Sat Mar 09, 2013 7:57 am
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My face is reflected in the water...
It's a shining grin full of hope...
Flaws
Psychology, I gawked, mathematics, physics, sciences, I continued on. Why are we spending our time studying the world, when we could be solving the unsolvable enigma of life? War, violence, pain, suffering, my list only grew. Why are we wasting our time fighting amongst ourselves when we've plenty of better things to be doing? Often times I've been told that life is like rain, and that that is because we never know nor expect when it might fall down on us. Why does it matter to us why it rains? It really doesn't. Curiosity, interest, intrigue, my list would only grow farther. If we weren't so naturally curious, we wouldn't even care about half of these things.
Sighing, I lay a hand against my forehead. I was disappointed in the human race, in myself, in the entirety of our species. So flawed, but why? It almost seems that if we lacked our "superior knowledge" that we would be a more peaceful and Zen species. Our knowledge is only a quarter of what it should be. We destroy ourselves due to simple arguments, we have crafted weapons with our vast knowledge, whose only purposes are to be used against our own kind, we have all of these problems- all of these flaws- that do not belong in a perfect community. But who am I to judge what is right and what is wrong? Stating my opinion couldn't hurt, I don't suppose.
Staring into the past, I see all of these intelligent, all of these amazing people. But the majority of these people seemed to have a cruder viewpoint. Though we may have this "vast intelligence", our emotions always stand ahead of it. And why is that? Why can we not control these things that drive our intelligence off of our proper course? We might know the answer, if our people weren't what they are.
And now, you might think to ask me, "Who are you to judge? Do you know these answers?" Well of course I do not. I am no different than you, nor the rest of us. We may be on different levels, but mentally, when it all comes down to the core, you and I are exactly the same. I am basically judging myself, in that aspect. Pointing out all of my flaws, all of your flaws, all of our flaws.
Though, what a boring place we might live in without these powerful emotions, without these things that can suddenly take over our bodies, take over our minds, change our views on things by the hearing of a few words, a few sentences, and the like. What a boring place… But who's to say it would be boring? Though we might already have every answer we may ever need, who's to say that that would be so bland? Maybe the lack of violence, the lack of harsh taunts or joyful laughter would create a boring place. Maybe it is these overruling emotions that make life interesting.
Is it possible that all of our suffering, all of our pain, all of our joy and happiness are what make our lives interesting? Fate must be off of its kilter if it thinks that that is correct.
Maybe if we took away the pain and the suffering, the hurt and the sorrow, we would be a better species. I picked up the closest pencil and tapped the eraser repeatedly onto my head. But without all of the suffering, wouldn't that also make our lives rather boring? Everyone being happy all the time, and no one having learned any lessons brought forth through the suffering?
Well then, maybe if we took away the happiness and the joy, the ecstasy and the excitement, we could be better off. I was now chewing on the end of the pencil. But without all of the happiness, would we then not have anything to live for? I suppose we might get used to the constant pain, but what then? Would we have no reasons to accomplish anything, if our lives were always suffering, and simply that?
A painstaking process this was, but my mind continued spurting out thoughts, and I, of course, being curious and all, had to reply. Maybe our flawed selves really are what make our lives perfect. Is that an option? Take away any one aspect, and the entire system falls apart. Maybe our delicate and unruly selves are what keep us in check; the good and the bad balancing each other out, the logic versus the creativity, and so on. Maybe the way we are now is truly the perfect system. I wore a smile on my face. The perfect flawed system.
... Or it could be a look of somber silence struggling with fear...
What do you see reflected in your face??? |
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Puppet on a String Theory
Philosophizing Bibliophile
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Puppet on a String Theory
Philosophizing Bibliophile
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Posted: Sat Mar 09, 2013 7:58 am
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My face is reflected in the water...
It's a shining grin full of hope...
Eclipse
The day, the time, the week... Are all meaningless. A cold- horrifyingly cold- darkness sweeps over the ruin. With only the stars left as a guide, appearing to shine every single second of the day, it seems like all is lost. There is no warmth... Never any warmth. The quiet, desolate landscapes are always lonely, with not a single soul to comfort them. A chilling wind blows as every second passes. The burning orange of dawn is just another day- the glow of light always hidden- and the tinted purple of dusk brings only a close to each shattered dream.
Each morning only proved to provoke the atmosphere; the stark light separating the smoothly settled clouds, and the harsh display drowning out the ever-present masterpiece. As the bright of day continues onwards, so do the lies. And as the night fades, so does the sadness.
Irradiance, Flares, Coronas, Rays... Constant pain lies beneath the mask of happiness.
These opposite masters of a single realm follow their ever-constant path... Keeping separation across the bountiful sky seemed like the only truth. Like light and dark, everything always portrayed itself as so opposite. One might follow their path, and the other might follow their path, but neither would stop to think to cross encounter the other.
Each night seemed to be a never-ending clock- a countdown that would constantly regenerate itself upon the newborn legacy of two, and the awakening creation of one... Back and forth, to and fro- the fluorescence constantly reflecting its intense light unto the darkness, but never breaking its surface. As the pale of night continues onwards, so does the sadness. And as the day fades, so do the lies.
Crescent, Gibbous, Disseminating, Balsamic... Total peace lays at rest beneath the unending action.
Each day became apparently same. And as did the night. The sun would strike the sky each morning, giving leeway to the moon, who only existed through this. Day after day- lie after lie-, night after night- misery after misery-, every waking second held some similarity.
When the last grain of sand has fallen out of the glass, day and night no longer exist. When one path is crossed by another, loneliness disappears. As the day fades, so do the lies. And as the night fades, so does the sadness.
Baily's Beads, the Diamond Ring, the Corona, Totality... The discordant tune equalizes as two fates become one.
... Or it could be a look of somber silence struggling with fear...
What do you see reflected in your face??? |
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