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Midi

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I used to write letters with someone I know very well, but for certain reasons this has stopped quite a few months ago. I've always enjoyed just writing anything down, whether it is meaningful or not. I've started a new blog today to pick it up again and was wondering if any of you enjoy writing as well?

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I've written three novels, two of which were crap and one of which is oddly paced but a lot better. None of them are published, of course. I've written stuff up for several different story ideas but I've rarely gotten that far with them, only about maybe 40 pages or so before I run out of inspiration.

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Ehmmm. I'd rather not send you the first two, when I said they're crap I mean it. The latest one I did was a story in the Teen Titans universe...is that all right? It's still not great. I say so because I didn't make up all the names and characters myself. I suppose at least you might not start thinking that there's a self-insert character in it. For what it's worth I might make a Fairy Tail story at some point, but what I'd like to be able to do is finish up the original story idea I have in mind.

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  • 1 month later...

I consider myself a writer above everything else, despite the fact that nowadays I barely have the time to indulge as much as I should (like just about every other hobby of mine). I think where I'm most comfortable is just train of thought psychotic babblings that I like to write to myself, which occasionally turned into lyrics for the short time I had a band in high school, but mostly just for self pleasure. I still write lyrics occasionally these days but more often than not they're rap, which is something I've been doing on and off for about ten years. I wrote a couple reviews on Global Domination maybe 6 years ago, I love doing that but its been so long since Ive had the time to invest myself in it properly. One day though.

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Timely thread. I'm just getting back into writing after many years of producing nothing at all. (I'm being quite serious when I say the last serious/good thing I wrote was for a fiction-writing assignment in 10th grade. 13-page post-apocalyptic thingamabob.) I'm not sure how to best describe what I like to write, but when it comes to short stories you could probably compare it to some kind of introspective, avant garde doomy/deathy music. My interests for longer narratives lean more along the sci-fi/fantasy route, although still with plenty of introspection and dark twists.

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I'm an avid consumer of fiction, but I've never even really considered writing any. I suppose most of my output is in the form of emails and posts here, even though they're rightly classified as "ephemera"; that and lyrics. I'm not particularly happy with most of my lyrics, but hey, there they are... other than that, I always had a great time writing essays in college, although reading them now, they seem a bit self-indulgent. I think the important thing about writing, for me, is what I learn from the process.

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I consider myself a writer above everything else' date=' despite the fact that nowadays I barely have the time to indulge as much as I should (like just about every other hobby of mine). I think where I'm most comfortable is just train of thought psychotic babblings that I like to write to myself, which occasionally turned into lyrics for the short time I had a band in high school, but mostly just for self pleasure. I still write lyrics occasionally these days but more often than not they're rap, which is something I've been doing on and off for about ten years. I wrote a couple reviews on Global Domination maybe 6 years ago, I love doing that but its been so long since Ive had the time to invest myself in it properly. One day though.[/quote'] Cool, what rap are you into? I'm a fan of a lot of post-2000 east coast stuff and some Minnesota groups like Atmosphere and No Bird Sing.
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Miranda wokesuddenly. She’d had the dream again. They had started two weeks ago but forMiranda it felt they had been a constant in her life. The first pale rays oflight on a cold winter’s morning began creeping across the room. Miranda gotout of bed. She was a young looking girl, she had recently turned 22, andpeople often mistook her age. She had long, red, hair, fair skin, hazel eyes,and soft features. There was anold, abandoned, house on the corner of the street. To Miranda it appeared thehouse was grimacing, as if it were in pain, but she didn’t know why. She had towalk past it going to and from work and always got chills. If it was night shewould cross the street to avoid walking by it. Night and,after a double shift thanks to Jamie calling in sick, Miranda was relaxing inthe bath. She drifted off to sleep and the dream came again. She was crying ina cold, dark room. She couldn’t move an inch. Voices were calling out to her.She woke up. For a moment Miranda couldn’t remember where she was. It was dark,cold, and Miranda thought for a second she was still dreaming. The feel ofwater on her skin reminded Miranda she was in the bath. ‘Has the light globeblown again?’ she thought to herself ‘guess I’ll have to replace it’. Morningcrept into the room as Miranda woke once more from the increasingly vividdream. She glanced out the window to see snow falling lazily from the sky. Evenas an adult Miranda loved seeing snow, it reminded her of childhood and daysspent lying before a roaring fire. ‘I miss those days’ thought Miranda ‘what Iwouldn’t give to just lay in front of the fire today”. She left the house andsmiled as snow gently caressed her cheek. What hadbeen only light snowfall that morning was now becoming a violent storm. Mirandafelt uneasy as she drew nearer to that grimacing house. The thought of aroaring fire pushed from her mind by the tormented building before her. Her gaze was broken suddenly by a smallfigure running towards the house. Miranda now focused on the apparition. The shadeappeared to be a child, no more then seven, in torn clothes and caked with mud.The child stopped running and glanced at Miranda. Something about that lookmade Miranda uneasy but the thought of a child spending the night cold andalone in that house cleared her mind. Reworked this slightly and paragraph five feels better but I'm not sure about paragraphs two and three

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In regard to paragraph two (I'm still at work in the library at the moment, so I'll address more after I leave), I think the main problem with it is that it gives too much information. You're essentially listing her features, but this isn't interesting, and it's likely that being so specific about some things (i.e. age) isn't relevant to the story. For example, a better way to go about incorporating it might be like so: Miranda got out of bed, brushing her long, red hair out of her eyes as she did so. The first pale rays of a cold winter's morning had begun to creep across the room, illuminating her pale skin, and she squinted into the light, sleep still clouding her hazel-tinted eyes. This way, character-building is integrated into the story, rather than the reader simply being told what the character looks like. It adds interest and depth while leaving the narrative unbroken.

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In regard to paragraph two (I'm still at work in the library at the moment, so I'll address more after I leave), I think the main problem with it is that it gives too much information. You're essentially listing her features, but this isn't interesting, and it's likely that being so specific about some things (i.e. age) isn't relevant to the story. For example, a better way to go about incorporating it might be like so: Miranda got out of bed, brushing her long, red hair out of her eyes as she did so. The first pale rays of a cold winter's morning had begun to creep across the room, illuminating her pale skin, and she squinted into the light, sleep still clouding her hazel-tinted eyes. This way, character-building is integrated into the story, rather than the reader simply being told what the character looks like. It adds interest and depth while leaving the narrative unbroken.
Huh, I may want to take this to heart. Ive done this partially but for the most part I tend to describe the character directly.
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I would say that most of what you feel is lacking could be helped by better incorporating detail. For instance the dream in paragraph is very anticlimactic in that you just sort of list a few things that are happening, rather than describing them in such a way that the reader can feel the dream just as the character is. The short, choppy sentences worsen the effect in this case, rather than adding to the action (in the right setting, they can do this quite effectively). Compare: She was crying in a cold, dark room. Voices called out to her from the shadows--fearsome, twisted voices--but she could not move an inch. Right as she felt the voices were upon her, she snapped awake, and for a moment Miranda could not remember where she was. The other main thing I would point out is that the timing between the fourth and fifth paragraphs is a little confusing. It seems that she leaves the house at morning and sees the grimacing house while on the way to wherever she's headed--so it seems like it should still be morning in paragraph five. Yet the paragraph begins by saying "What had been light snowfall that morning...". It might be good to make it apparent that some time has passed between her leaving and her going to the frightening house.

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Cool' date=' what rap are you into? I'm a fan of a lot of post-2000 east coast stuff and some Minnesota groups like Atmosphere and No Bird Sing.[/quote'] I kinda change with the weather as far as the rap I generally listen to, lately I've been digging Flatbush Zombies and the Underachievers a lot, as well as the whole Black Hippy group. I like a lot of the old Houston area stuff too, UGK being my favorite. I wouldn't say that defines much of my style when I do rap though. I guess I'm somewhere in the middle of horrorcore-ish and typical bravado street shit. I like being over the top vulgar/offensive and just trying to give more common themes a darker more twisted feel. couple random lines from songs ive written below for example "look at how the motherfucker did it again/rappers yelling "don't nobody give him a pen"/smoke bellows out of my devilish grin/skinny dipping drunk in the rivers of sin/when I unleash the beast believe the peace will cease/and the fees increase, make you an easy feast/then vomit all over ya motherfucking jesus piece/im sick like a creepy uncle and a sleazy neice" "the dastardly bastard with gasoline drippin off the back of a fat bitch lasso'd and draggin as I'm blastin the gas with the CCR spinnin, passionately graspin the PBR sippin" "dont mean to brag but bitch I party hard/jeffrey dahmer shaped pinatas in the backyard filled with bars/lesbionic bitches in the kitchen with syringes blowin kisses to some midgets huffing whip-its playing dentist" "float the bud keg till im gropin on a slut's leg trying to get her butt fed, no rubber, nuff said. leave her drawers blood red, trippin off the portabella, leave her sleepin, Cinderella, ass stretched like mozerella"
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Please don't think I'm not appreciative of the advice. I'm more annoyed at the startling lack of quality in this piece.
No worries. I'm quite certain that after you finish your editing it will come out polished, so don't worry if you feel dissatisfied with the draft. I look forward to seeing more of the story.
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