Welcome to Gaia! ::

Why hullo there, Pandora! *bows*

cx

I'm so psyched about the number of people in the guild. Yay! I already feel it growing into a really supportive community.

I'm xVoldie, or just Voldie. My favourite genre is science-fiction, though I like things with a biological-based science. What I mean is... diseases, new species, mutations. Though I do like stories that revolve around machinery and physical sciences, they don't capture my attention as much. That said, I don't only read sci-fi. The only thing that might be something I'd be more hesitant to read would be something that is strictly romance. They'd no doubt make me cry, but strictly romance doesn't really capture my attention, though there have been exceptions. I'm currently reading a book called "Seven Types of Ambiguity" by Elliot Perlman, and the basis of it is a romance, but it's so intense and interesting... A man, a very interesting character, is stalking, with good intentions, a woman who left him ten years ago. Wanting to keep her son (who is not his own - she married after him) from a sad childhood, he kidnaps him, just for an hour or so, in an attempt to alert the parents that something's wrong. It's written in the point of view of seven different characters, all connected...

I ramble sometimes. I apologize.
I'm not sure how to characterize my writing style, so I suppose I won't. What I'd like to share is a small passage from a story I'm currently writing called Toxic Evolution.

"[...]

Liam was speaking to him, but just as his mask filtered the air, his mind filtered his brother's voice. The ground became softer the further he walked from the Dome as most of the soil there was still new, never having met the foot of man. Once he was swallowed by the cloud, he felt more at ease. It curled against his body and welcomed him more intimately than any of his team could have. There was a shift in sound and light, as distinct and opening your eyes underwater, but nothing like it at all. While he could never understand how the shift occurred, how his senses dulled in one way but heightened in another, he embraced it completely, allowed himself to be one with the beautiful smog. All this spoke to him more clearly than Liam ever could, this Language of the World, the rustle of the creeping vines against the rock and the howling winds and the shifting, continuous cloud around him. The quiet and the heaviness of it, the life where no life should be, it spoke straight to his heart, it made him understand, and it welcomed him. This is your home now, it said. Live with us, become us, protect us.

Yes, protect. There were things here that did not belong. The crew, for one, assembled with the intent of sucking away the beauty and breathing out conformity; why is Before better? Why is that the goal? It was a selfish thing to want the world as it was Before, when man still roamed it, instead of as it was now. Why could things that were different not be left alone? This was easy to protect from. Man was predictable with his reactions. All Ethan had to do was think, figure out how to sabotage and manipulate, and he would be the ruler of the cloud and all that lived within it.

[...]"

Hi, I'm Eljah_Black, but please call me Eljah (not to be confused with Elijah).

I enjoy writing and reading realistic fiction, urban fantasy, and high fantasy. I just find those to be the most enjoyable genres. ^^ I also enjoy playing video games such as the Harvest Moon series, the Sims, Legend of Zelda, and Animal Crossing. I have a chocolate addiction I'm trying to kick and I'm slowly becoming a fan of tea.

I'm not sure what my writing style is like nor do I have a 'small' excerpt of my writing to share. I'll post a poem I wrote about a year ago instead. (Just a note, I'm not very good with poetry.) If you want to read a short story to get a feel for my writing style there's one in my member journal.

In a villain’s heart
way down deep
underneath the bloodshed
and lives ruined
past the corruption
and hatred
way down deep
lies an empty heart

Hello all my name isAriel Elaine Rudyor 'ByeByeFluttershy'. I love different styles like rockabilly pinup, steampunk(any other victorian style tooo!), and any gothic style you could throw at me. I'm 13 and working to become a writer and model. Almost everyone in my family used to write poetry. My mother was very big on poetry and short stories and when my mother and father got together she taught my dad how to write also. My dad then taught my older half brother. By the time I was born everyone was to busy to teach me so as I got older the stress built up and I began writing on my own.
I wouldn't be sure how to describe my writing style...sometimes its morbid and awkward and others its just creepy, and sometimes it tells a relate-able story?

Demons
Its one of those storys
A tale of two things
Spirits maybe,
whatever you bring
Stay out of my home,
take your nasty things with you
maybe then they'll always be with you
Smile and tell me that your alright
even I know your in for a fright

Hey all! Just joined. I'm a rather serious writer and am working on a novel for publication, two net stories, plotting another novel to be started in June, and possibly a few contests along the way. If I could, I'd make a living on my writing. I've been writing since I was seven (even wrote a screen play that was performed by the neighborhood kids, and someone somewhere still has the evidence). Since I have to write something every day to keep sharp, this challenge is perfect.

Below is an example of my hopeful little publication (still in editing). It's a take on Greek Mythology, this book is about the Eros/Psyche myth. Everything takes place in space and the full background will be waaaay too long to explain. In the scene below, Iona (that's who will become Psyche) has spied on and revealed her mysterious lover to be Eros and not the monster she was led to believe it was. Eros, wounded, has gone back up to the Olympian levels of the station, and his mother has just learned of his deception. Apollo, who is frankly not a good guy in the story, plots with Aphrodite in an effort to teach Eros a lesson, as Apollo believes Eros is too uppity for his own good.

{...}

“These [Eros' darts] will,” Apollo said. “But, I believe I have a plan that will benefit us both. I know it for a fact that Iona believes that Eros was sleeping with other women while they were wedded. Why not play that up? Give Eros a nursemaid that would be a perfect match for him. You, the mighty Goddess of Love, can help push them towards a new relationship. The dart's powers will weaken if one or both of them falls for another. If Eros won't love the woman you choose, than we'll have to make Iona fall for someone new.”

“And what do you get out of this? So far, I only hear how I'm going to win.”

“Ah, my part. I want Iona. Oh, don't look so disgusted, Aphrodite, it's not love on my end. You know that I bear your son no kind affections after the many times he's made me a fool. You can pick his new wife, and I want to see the pain in his eyes as his old love adores me before I toss her to the side. And then you can have your great revenge as she wanders saddened and alone. Who knows? She might be so depressed that she jumps into space.”

Aphrodite smiled. “Oh, you're just saying that to make me happy.”

“I'm serious.” Apollo held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

“I do,” Aphrodite said. She shook his hand. It was only a mortal deal, as neither one said the binding words to keep gods from altering pacts. “Now, what goddess shall we pick to entice my stupid son from that tramp?”

“I was thinking Persephone,” Apollo said. “Demeter is still angry over losing her daughter to the dark seductions of Hades, and will gladly welcome another divine suitor. I'm sure she'll agree that Eros is just as good...” he paused, seeing the look on Aphrodite's face and amended his words, “...an even better match than Hades.”

“One problem,” said Aphrodite. “Hades has a jealous streak, and would not hesitate to come up to Olympus illegally to destroy my son if he so much as suspected his precious wife was cheating on him. And I do not feel like trying to find Hades another wife. Who would want him? Although,” she mused, “there must be something about him that keeps Persephone happy.”

“Demeter has other children,” Apollo said. “If not Persephone, then why not Despoina? I doubt that poor girl ever leaves the stables. Her only companions are horses and your son Deimos stops by on the rare occasion. She could use some romance, don't you agree?”

“When did Demeter have more kids?”

“She's always had other kids. Since she forgets she has more kids than just Persephone, it's not surprising that everyone else forgets. Despoina is her daughter by Poseidon, along with her twin brother, Areion the horse.”

“A horse?”

“Don't ask. I try to not think about it.”

Aphrodite tapped her chin as she thought this over. “This Despoina would jump at the chance to marry my darling Eros, wouldn't she? And, if she's as desperate as you say, to be loved, she would easily fall for him. Now, to ensure that Eros returns her affections...”

Hello, my name is Desiree and I've been writing for four years.
*applause*
I'm so use to this format of introduction. mrgreen
I'm 19, though, and I've decided to do this challenge, because I can't think of a reason not to.
I normally write mysteries and my stories are funny, or I like to think they're funny.

Here's the beginning from my NaNoNovel:

***
I was sexy. I made girls faint with desire and men question their sexuality. I had dark hair, dark bedroom eyes, dazzling white teeth and an amazing jaw line. But, I totally didn’t have that whole sexier-than-thou attitude—I was nice about it. I mean, it wasn’t something I could control. I swear I was nice about it.

Well, hello everyone. My name is Demacry, which has been my username for the last eight years or so; if you see a Demacry anywhere else the chances are pretty good it's me. My real name is James though if you'd just call me Dema I'd very much appreciate it; its kind of wierd to see my name on a computer screen.

I'm a 21 year-old, combat correspondent in the US Marine Corps, which is essentially a newspaper writer. Being in the military, a lot of my "free-time" is not really mine so being able to make commitments outside of work can be a bit cumbersome if it's longer than a few hours. What this means for my presense on Gaia is should I say I'm going to edit something or write a piece everyday, that's only if my timetable allows it.

Enough of the dreary stuff, I am an avid lover of stratedgy games, music, anime, art, fiction and psychological/theoretical writings.

Music, art, and anime I generally consider the media portion of my life. I loved doodling when I had the time to do it and was getting pretty decent at it, then I graduated high school. My favorite genre of music is indie/punk rock but I listen to everything from Hinder and Green Day to All That Remains and Tool.

I recently finished reading "The Art of Learning: A Guide to Excellence" which was an amazing discussion of many different focuses and mental handicaps we put on ourselves, and it was written by Josh Waitzkin, a chess grandmaster and international tai chi champion.

For my writing style, I'd like to think that it can be very descriptive while still being direct (I think that's my correspondence background bleeding through). If I have some weaknesses they're probably that I tend to be either to direct or not direct enough and the pacing of my writing often reflects my actual mood as apposed to the mood I want to create. Also I tend to rely a bit too heavily on flowery phrases that also ruin the pacing. I'm hoping that with projects I work on here and with some constructive criticism I'll be able to fix my deficiencies and progress my style to something appropriate for short stories (which I find to be the most fun and rewarding).

I havn't written any fiction pieces that I want to share since the last one I wrote is over three years old and lost to the world. But if you'd like to see some of my articles you can find them at "marines.mil", just look for Lance Cpl. James Frazer.

Hello, my name is.... sharkbait. I mean catscratches. Wait!! Don't Go! My name's Tibbynibby. Seriously this time. biggrin I drive my friends and family up the wall and usually crash into the ceiling.

I like to write and have been writing seriously since... well forever. :3 I'm newly 20 years old and am a sophomore in college. Crazy stuff.

I learned to write by way of reading, so I really stink at english. Can't ever remember what stuff is called or why certain rules apply. I always get a good response from what I write/read to people, most of the time. I have a lot of dark stuff but I don't usually let others read. Don't want to get taken to the councilor/psychiatrist... Again.

I'm gonna try to do the 365 writing challenge and hopefully succeed at it. X3 I'm in a club called Scribblers and I've been challenged to do something like this and this will help me keep at it. biggrin (p.s. I'm no. 47. XD)

I love a quote that goes something like this, "a story is never finished, it's simply abandoned."

~Story Time~

She stood alone in the open field. The brown grass came up to her waist. What was she looking for? Was she waiting for someone? Maybe she was just passing through. Whatever the reason she was in the field, she had long forgotten. The full moon sparkled in the sky. The cool wind blew and swam across her skin and dress. The moon she thought, is so wonderfully beautiful and sorrowful. She shed a tear, and left it to fall.

"Miss?" A man's voice asked.

Her heart spun and she quickly turned to see who it was. He had long silver hair, quite unusual to a girl like her. He was a good bit taller too. (She wanted to be closer to the moon as well.)

"Did the moon call to you?" He looked from her to the moon and she followed his eyes.

"I..." She started. Could that be why she was here? Her head told her no, but her heart said yes. "I feel like it has, but I was here for another purpose first. But for some reason, I don't recall." She looked at him again. He came closer. The grass didn't shutter or shriek from his touch and he made no sound.

"The moon called to me. The moon told me you would be here." His ominous words scared and intrigued her. He put a hand to her face. His scent filled her nostrils and she lost the use of her limbs. Then she was in his arms. She struggled to look at his face. The last thing she noticed were his eyes. A sharp blue with silver streaks.