September 28, 2010

The Big Surprise

"He just wouldn't let up. I wasn't feeling well to begin with, and he seemed to have no sympathy for his own mother. Some surprise this was, I thought to myself. He had made me brownies, a gracious act in and of itself, but was assuming no responsibility whatsoever for the aftermath. I was forced to cut the brownies, MYSELF, and I was then forced to put the tray in the sink afterwords. He then had the nerve to tell me that I should be thankful for even making the brownies. 'Fine, I won't make you brownies ever again if this is how you're going to thank me.' 'Don't be a smartass', my husband chimed in, in my defense, though likely with the ulterior motive of ensuring that there would be brownies in his own future. Nobody seemed to understand where I was coming from. If you're going to do something nice, then you should do a THOROUGH job, not a half-ass one in which your own mother needs to pick up after you. 'Fine, I don't want your brownies', I said, partially yelling. Before either of the two in the room could respond, I stormed out of the room and into my bedroom. I was tired, and it was time for bed. Whoever said not to go to bed angry obviously never had something like THIS happen to them."

This is an argument that I had with my mother, from her perspective. I'm not sure how appropriate her thoughts were, but then again none of you are probably mothers. Let me know if you find anything that can be improved.

It's a start..

As she puts her key in the ignition, her phone rings. Shay
looks at it bewildered, wondering who could be calling this
Mom?... No I'm coming home now.
Yeah, I know. Why aren't you in
bed? Just to remind you I am a
grown woman. No. Stop. Yeah sure
if I had a husband he could be
working and not me... Yeah... and
make my salary? Heading home as we
speak. Go to sleep... Nite... Love
you, bye.
Shay shoves her phone angrily in her bag. Just as she starts
the car, an explosion throws her back and knocks the keys
out of her hand.
Shay screams and opens her eyes, seeing half of the building
engulfed in flames.
Oh no...
She quickly gets out of the car, and runs to the side of the
building, scrambling over broken pieces of wall. As she gets
closer, she sees the destroyed laboratory. Most of the
exspensive equitment has melted, and chemicals drip on the
floor. She ignores the experiments, her eyes set on
something in front of her.
Thank god..
She moves over to 5 tank sized test tubes, each filled with
a glowing blue liquid. All but one is empty. The last one is
half way full of liquid, the top broken off. She looks
frantically around, her eyes searching the floor.

C'mon, I know your here...please
be here!
Her hands move across the broken glass on the floor. She
gasps as her hand runs over something warm and wet. At the
touch, it starts to cry, and squirms around. She smiles
relieved, and takes off her lab coat, carefully wrapping the
baby in it.
It's ok. Shhh.
The baby stares up at her with a gaze too focused for an
infant. It's blue eyes blink slowly, and then its mouth
forms a small little "O" and it yawns.
Shay runs through the hole in the wall, carrying the baby
tightly to her chest. She breathes heavily as she nears her
car, throwing open the door and laying the baby gently in
the passenger seat. She goes to her side quickly, and
scrambles to find the key. Her fingers wrap around cold
metal, and her heart jumps in excitement. She jams the key
in, and tears out of the parking lot, hearing distant sirens
behind her.
I did it. I saved one!
Shay pauses and them grimaces.
Oh no I did it!
She slams her hand on the stearing wheel and growls.
Crap! What was I thinking?!
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
The baby starts to cry, its strong wail filling the car.
Shay squirms uncomfortably, and lays a hand on the baby.
No, no no! Don't cry! Sorry,
The baby's wail quivers, its lip shaking from the cold. It
sticks it's little fist up, wailing.
Shay's hand darts to the heat, turning it on full.

It's gonna be ok now. Your going
to be ok now. We are going home.
And then...well we will both take
it from there. Well, I will take
it from there. But I won't let
them find you. I promise.


Hey guys I just want to know what you think of this and get as much feedback as possible just say what you think or how I should change this. Thanks!

I walked home through the meadow with fields if dead hay. It was early spring still, with piles of muddy snow in the different patches of the ground. The ground was wet and soggy in most places. The evening sky was overcast, no sun in sight, but still light enough for me to see my surroundings. A crisp wind blew over my head every few minutes or so, as this occurred I pulled my jacket tighter to myself to keep warm. There was a strange sense going through me almost as if I was being watched or followed. I quickened my pace with the feeling of fear on my constant mind. I got closer to my house with each step, as I got to the end of the meadow I found myself just a few houses away from my home. I decided I was in a safe place now and continued on without this fear. I started up to the front steps of my house. It’s a nice house in a large neighborhood full of life. There are large trees in everybody’s yard. Some built forts others just there. My house is blue with white shutters, and big picture windows on the first floor. I opened the door and could smell that my mother was cooking dinner as usual some kind of chicken. I sprinted up to my room and kicked of my muddy shoes and ripped of my coat. I walked over to my window and drew back the curtain revealing to me the other side of the street. There he was again my neighbor he had followed me again from school to my house I knew it. I watched him from a safe place as he was hidden by shadows he glared up into my room at me. I immediately backed away, and quickly walked to my bedroom door where the light switch was and quickly shut it off. I ran back downstairs washed my hands and then sat the table for dinner...

Too late(Edited)

As the man heard the news he was in utter shock. He had only one day to live. As the doctor got up to leave the man stands up and looks out the window. His life flashs like movie before him and starts to bring tears to his eyes. When the doctor leaves and closes the door behind him the man slowly walks torwards it and reachs out to the knob but stop, turns and goes full sprint out the of the 6th floor window. a couple minutes the doctor walks in with a smile on his face. "it looks like i was i wrong" he says as hes looking at his clip board" you have a couple more months and we have this new treatment tat has showin wond-" he looks up and notices the windows broken. Too little Too late.

-Tell me what you think,revise,fix,etc.


Greene likes how the first stanzas have 4 syllables per line, do you think i should change the last 2 stanzas so it all flows? Can you picture each event as it happens?

he took the gun
he hid it close
behind his back
so no one knows

with a mask
he hid his face
down the road
to his father's place

they owned a store
bout' three blocks away
they will be robbed
today's the day

their son turned nuts
all crazy in the head
he ran off with cash
his father was dead

Too Late

As the man heard the news he was in utter shock. He had only one day to live. As the doctor got up to leave the man stands up and looks out the window. His life flashs like movie before him and starts to bring tears to his eyes. When the doctor leaves and closes the door behind him the man slowly walks torwards it and reachs out to the knob but stop, turns and goes full sprint out the of the 6th floor window. a couple minutes the doctor walks in with a smile on his face. "it looks like i was i wrong" he says as hes looking at his clip board" you have a couple more months and we have this new treatment tat has showin wond-" he looks up and notices the windows broken. Too little Too late.


A short story i have started for a writing assignment.
is there anything that could make this better? ---

The music in the fun house turned from happy music into daunting sounds of horror. The rides turned from fun excitement to pure fear. The gruesome sharp jagged yellow green toothed grins of the clowns would send chills through any ones spine. how this all changed so quickly came to me as a surprise just one bite of the toxic batch of ice cream and you too would become one of these mindless killing freaks. luckily for me I'm lactose intolerant and couldn't have eaten any. unfourtonatly for my best friend Angela she had enjoyed the killer treat and was now heading toward me snarling and foaming at the mouth longing for my brains. how could i kill my best friend even if she is a mindless freak out to get me. i just decide my best bet was to run. i stopped in the middle of the swirling Tilt- A -Whorl ride dodging the fast moving blue rust covered carts from killing me. i try to catch my breath and i see Angela running straight for the ride. i cant run and the wind from the moving ride is throwing off my balance. I'm stuck. right when I'm almost positive that I'm doomed she takes a wrong step and with a loud THUD the ride had taken out my best friend that i will miss greatly Even tho she did try to eat my brains.

Lost in space

Its's the year 2072. Who would have known that I would be the first to step on mars, John Smith the 6th. The moment is coming, our shuttle has landed. I look out of the window through my helmet, all I see is the vast emptiness of space and the dusty red-orange surface of mars. All I hear is my own breathing. It's heavy and my heart is racing like a formula one race car. I hear the seal break on the shuttles door. It's time. The stairs slowly lower and I step out onto the surface. I stare at my boots with amazement as they plant onto the dusty surface. I can't believe i'm the first man on Mars. As I continue to walk forward im brought out of my amazed trance with a shrieking scream of horror. I turn around to see a bright light shining from the shuttle, the ground begins to rumble and i quickly jump behind a large rock for cover. My shuttle explodes and pieces fly off into space without a single astronaut in sight...

Beat it up, This is a segment from a story i started writing. I want to know just how it seems so far

WE: Meeting my 9-year-old self

Time and space, bend to my will

Traveling back to years gone by

There's only me in the blackness around

No green grass or bright blue sky

I'm not alone

I stand here with me

A 9-year-old self

Filled with doubt, and crazy dreams

I came back to right the wrongs

To warn myself, and to keep me strong

To tell myself to trust my heart

To never accept limits, and to never give up

This was a writing exercise in class. What do you think? Any tips to improve it?

September 27, 2010

Script outline

Ryan Cathcart

Setting: Three friends decide one day to explore deep into the natural world to gather a better understanding of the world they live in, and even themselves.

Act #1
Jim, Bryan, and Jake walk into the woods, with the intention of gathering a better understanding of the life that they live. Bryan, who has always kept an open mind to everything, was the most curious of the three. While Jake and Jim although skeptical, were excited to see what they would run into in this fairly uncharted area of town.
Act #2
As they take their first few steps into the area, Jake started to second guess the trip out of fear of the possibility that he would not like what he found. After about ten minutes of Bryan and Jim assuring him that everything would be fine and that it would be a life experience worth having Jake agreed to proceed with the plan. They entered the woods that had slight trails from previous amateur explorers that had gone through the area before. Once they reached the first section of land that they planned on examining, they had an encounter with the first member of the animal kingdom that they would see this day.
Act #3
As they proceeded through this natural habitat of many different organisms they started making observations that lead to thoughts and ideas that would not have came about if they had not had this experience. They started making connections to different theories, and gathered a further understanding of the world they live in, just as they had planned.

Pastrey Chef

A pastry shop had opened up down the street. The pastry shop had become such a hit, everyone had stopped buying from the Keebler Elves, putting them out of business. Outraged, the elves went to their tree and created a plan to attack the pastry chef at dawn. When the sun began to rise the elves geared up and had sabotaged all of the ingredients. when the chef went to the shop and began baking, the usual crowd had shuffled in. All of the ingredients had caused them to vomit profusely. an hour after closing time, there was a glow off in the distance. As it grew larger, he then realized it was an angry mob of his vomiting customers. They had all tied him to a chair in the shop, and forced him to eat the sabotaged ingredients. When ever he left the shop after that, people would throw bottles at his head, knocking him unconscious. So the chef never left again, and currently sits behind the counter in his bakery shop.

The Pesant And The King

Ok. This is just the first chapter of a book I'm writing. I dont have a name for the book yet, just for the chapters. It's 1 of 6 chapters so far (10pages so far) and I need to know how to make this chapter better, names, edits, anything that comes to mind, questions, anything. And for those of you who feel you need to know, yes this is based a game called Runescape and I wont take any harassment or what not for it, what so ever.

The King of Ardrounge was a fit and brave man, admired by his loyal subjects. One day the King sent out a notice to everybody in Ardrounge, stating "I'm looking for any man, or woman, whom will undertake a great task which I require completed." Of corse, a lot of people were interested and intreged with this request, as this was the first time the King had ever done something like this. After a few days passed, the King startted getting worried because no one was comming forward to help him. Just before the King was about to get completely discouraged, a paladin of his Royal Gaurd came running in.

"Sir!" the paladin was yelling "Sir! A Commoner is at the gate, he wishes to help as a responce to the summon!"

the King smiled and said "Well don't just stand here! Go! Go and let him in! and for Guthix's sake, bring him straight to me!"

The paladin ran out of the room and the King turned and startted eating his lunch. A few minutes later, the paladin came back with a well-shaven, tall, dark haired commoner behind him.

"Welcome! Welcome my fair man, please, have a seat and join me" the King said. The young man sat down carefully and nervously, as he has never before been in such royal company. The King finished his meal and wiped his mouth with his napkin and spoke.

"So I understand you wish to help..."

"Yes, I do" the commoner spoke.

"Exceptional! Now, the task I have at hand is very dangerous, and will take you away from your family, and Ardrounge for a very long time. And it will also be difficult, you will need to be able to think clearly in stressful situations and have a high intelect in the knowladge of tactics. Do you still think you can do this?" the King asked the commoner

"Yes. Yes sir I do know I can do whatever you assign, because..." the commoner went into how he had overseen every battle the armies of Ardrounge have fought over the years, since he turned 5.

"Impressive..." the King said "But can you lead men to their certin deaths?"

The commoner hesitated, then spoke, "... Yes sir, I can..."

"Good! Good! Oh, I have almost forgot, all this excitment, I have forgotten to ask your name, what be it?"

"My name is Roy, sir."

"Well then Roy, let me show you the plans I have for ardrounge... The ones you'll be going off of."

The Closet

This is an exercise we did in class about being terrified of the items in a closet. I'd like to know if this is too intense and starts to lack development. Is the ending fit for the story's development?
My closet is a gateway to hell. Every item of clothing disturbs me greatly. I’m standing in front of my closet with a towel wrapped around my body, and I realize that I have been standing here so long trembling looking the door, that not only have I dried, but my towel has as well. I have not moved from this spot for four hours. I was scheduled to work at three and it is now six-thirty. My eyes are beat red and in an immeasurable amount of pain from being focused on one spot. All of the sudden, I hear the turn of a door knob, but my bedroom door is open, so I know only one knob could be turning right now. The knob stops turning, and the door flies open in my face knocking me to the floor. The next thing I know I’m in a hospital bed. The nurse shows me an ultrasound of my stomach, revealing a turtle neck long sleeve shirt, well-distributed throughout my intestines.

Memories Associated with Clothes

                Golden eyes whipped open, wildly looking around the room as he shot up from his bed. With a sigh, he pulled himself from the bed and walked over to the closet. He opened the door, and felt frozen in place.
                This was not a normal thing. He wore the exact same outfit yesterday, a short (ripped) sleeved yellow and red shirt, blue jeans, a black spiked belt, and a red scarf. But this was different; he felt his body freeze up with terror.
                The nightmare from the previous night had been a mesh of old memories. Himself being shot through the fabric of his clothes; his scarf choking him as a gun was pressed against his head; his torso being gashed by the spikes on his belt.
                Bile rushed up his throat, he made it to the window and emptied whatever was left in his stomach. Black spots danced behind his vision as he stumbled to his bed. He crawled under the covers and hid his head. There was one other instanced that made him feel sick again, but without anything left in his stomach it felt like a cold rock had lodged itself there.
                He had worn the same outfit when he had failed to save others. It was during a thunderstorm, the others were following behind him as they fought against wind, no water fell from the ominous black sky. A bolt of lightning had struck a tree next to them, flames licked at the wood.
They couldn’t outrun it, not with the blustering wind. The blaze caught up to them, choking their breath. His scarf had caught on a branch; a girl had tried to help him. Another bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, it fell towards them. He blacked out for a brief moment, only to see the others collapsing from lack of air as fire greedily sucked it away. He found the girl who had tried to help him, she had been crushed by the tree; her blood inching its way to his immobile arms. He could see the studded bracers on his arm glinting in the fire.
                He shook his head to fight off the memory; that was a long time ago. The things in his dream were far more recent than that. He took in a breath and sat up, managing to stumble to the door. There was at least one thing he could do.
                “Hey, Bass! Can ya’ pick me up some new clothes?”

September 25, 2010


What do you really do?
Is it black magic?
Or systematic?
What have you done?
Is it really that fun?
You drew me in stuck on the head of a pin
some kind of mind control
A strange unreleasing hold
This crazy rattles got me coiled into you
Strangled and mangled fable
Locked up in the stables
So please just tell me why I'm hidden
But binded to you
What is it about you?
Is it your charm?
Or your mystery?
What have I done?
Is it really hung?
I pulled myself in, no way I can win
Under your control.
     A poem from a while back, I'm just wondering how it is and things along those lines.

September 24, 2010

World War III

Tom had been sitting there for a while. He was experiencing a stomach ache. Progressively, the pain became worse. Suddenly he was seized by a pain which entirely came over him. He felt as if he was doomed to a sudden destruction. He cringed in pain and held his abdomen while cradling back and forth. He felt as if he was holding some kind of evil within in him. He felt the urge to release the evil power within him. He thought:
'What is this pain?'
As time went the pain grew stronger. He tried with all his strength to release the evil power. At that moment, he felt an unretainable force of power released within his pants.
He felt the releasing of the second force and tried his best to keep it in. He had to find refugee behind a bush or something. He looked around desperately. A tree? A bush? Anything? He saw a nearby bush. He limped towards it. The force of power overwhelmed him and released with an explosion.
With all his might he managed to hold off the last wave of the evil force. He limped closer to the bush. He was almost there. Sweat rolled off his forehead. He exerted all his energy to suppress this evil force from releasing. Then the unseen power within him overwhelmed his strength. With hope for the best, Tom released the massive evil force.


        This is something i wrote for a writing excercise in class, how is this?
        Of pure hatred betrayal is born. To roam the earth in darkness and solitude is to abandon all hope and love. And who cannot be trusted wears a mask of crimson, who's hands are stained with blood. Weilding a dagger in one palm and a knife in another, betrayal becomes pain. With one quick jab, crimson will spill and trust will be forever lost in the darkness of midnight.


        This is something I wrote 2 years ago and never finished. After rereading it, I just realized I have NO IDEA how to finish it. I need some help....            
        PREFACE On the nights of October, you know that all monsters come out. Vampires, werewolves, witches, you name it. But, have you ever heard of shadows? It’s a part of us, only their hearts are full with black dimness of the darkest nights. Their skin is pitch black, only the light of the moon can trace them. Their eyes are murky green and nails long as a witch’s nose. Hard to believe, right?
        The next time you see your shadow during a sunset; don’t think it’s just an innocent, lifeless thing. You may also think they are a cherubic figure. They are alive until the day you die. There are adherent to your soul. They feel what you feel. You might be having the greatest time of you life, but you are unaware that they are living in misery. Other figures won’t condone this, for they tried to ease the pain.
        When you are born to this perfect little world, your shadow is born to a world unlike ours, with filth, tears, pain and pure sorrow. If you ever meet your shadow, please be attentive, do not harm them. Don’t create pain with what they already have. They are very protective of themselves and others. For how do I know this? I have met my shadow, and others.
        My shadow, Eichi, wasn’t so cruel like the others. He has a half a heart from heaven and the other from the depths of hell. But you may not be so lucky… My name is Luchia. I’m a regular teenage girl until I found out a surprise, the story of the shadows. I’ve heard of them before, from Japanese folktales but never believed in them. Until on that day, I opened a portal from the human world to the shadow world. Because of that, I have met my shadow and other shadows who got loose to the human world. If they can harm us, I have no clue.
        So far I understand that they are a part of us, the opposite gender of us and that they have a heart. But to abridge this story, I will just continue with how I met them. It was a couple days before Halloween. I was leaving school. I was heading down to the mirror, and created a small rift, then a thin, dim light shown from the mirror. I saw a small, dark world, a dark sky with black clouds. The sky was a circular shape with small white spirals, slowly turning clockwise. Little figures were walking, mostly dragging. They were shaped as humans, only their skin were black and eyes were full with wretchedness. One small creature came out of the mirror, sluggishly saying my name… I was petrified.
         “Lu-ch-iaaaa----he---lp---me.” Said the figure. “
        Who are you?? Please don’t kill me, let me live!”
         “Don’t wor—ry. Help me before night falls… I am your other half…”
        “What on earth do you mean? My other half? Aren’t you a shadow?”
        “Yes I am a shadow, your shadow. I’m a part of your soul.” Said the shadow.
        “What?? That’s absurd.”
        I had to dissent. It’s impossible. “Would you like to start an argument? I don’t have all day you know. I need to be in a lighted area. Unless, you want to fabricate the worst demon ever.”
        Hmph, he’s acting like some type of eminent person. We left to get to my house. I seemed like a marauder trying to pilfer goods. I had to dress up my shadow as an obese pauper, either that or having CBS track us for the mysterious story. Then they will have to terminate him and who knows what will happen to me. As soon as we got to the house, I screamed with questions.
        “Why are you- where are- Why? - How? - What??? “I stuttered.
        “Stop that. Let me explain…”
        “How are you here, shadow? “Alive” I mean.” I questioned. I understand the fact of a shadow, but for it to be alive? That’s crazy.
        “I’m alive because of you. And I have a name, it’s Eichi.” Eichi said.
        “Okay, Eichi, you’re telling me that you are my shadow and you are alive? Also you live in a strange world different from ours and there are others like you?” I still can’t believe it. I’m still scared though. He’s my shadow, but the way he is formed is creepy. He really doesn’t have a semblance appearance. He’s transparent, like a ghost. “Why do you need to be away from the dark?”
        “Because we become weaker and let our “souls” get powered by the dark. We lose all of the sun’s energy and let ourselves go. Then were turn into something far greater than we are now. It’s horrific. Many have lost their life that way and the humans as well. That’s why many humans die. Cause of their shadows. But no need to worry, it only happens when us shadows are let out to the human world. Also, figures tend to attack one another. These figures attack one another because of their life has no fairness. If one shadow has one hint of fairness, or has an altercation with another figure, they are killed by other shadow. Because of this, many humans have sudden deaths, not because of something natural, because of the other side. Thus, this as put many shadows in an irate stage. Some of their other selves try to surmount that, and believe there is a way for them to exorcise their evil.”
        “So we are connected too?”
        “Yes, I will show you.” He made a thin cut on his hand with his trite fingernails. And the all of a sudden, it appeared on my hand. It really stings. It’s still there. Like the cut wants to usurp the center of my hand.
        “Oww.” I said in pain. “
        See? We really are connected.” Eichi said. He looked outside. “Damn, it’s almost minutes away from nightfall. Luchia, this light isn’t enough. Where’s the mirror?”
        “Right here.”
        “Lascilo andare di nuovo al mio mondo, pieno di odio e di dispiacere. Di nuovo al mondo del demon.” (“Let me go back to my world, full of hatred and sorrow. Back to the demon world I shall.”) Then, he got sucked in from the old mirror.
        The next day I woke up from a nightmare. “Did that really happen? Shadows are not alive.” I said quietly to myself. Impossible. Or maybe it wasn’t a dream? TO BE CONTINUED.

Writing Exercise

        One morning Bob woke up for school. He hadn’t slept much the night before and was very tired. He began his usual routine and got up out of bed. He brushed his teeth and decided that it was time to get dressed.
        He walked over to his closet and opened the door. When he first saw all of his clothes, something weird happened. He picked up a shirt and suddenly felt nervous. He threw the shirt across the room, ran out and slammed the door.
        Breathing a sigh of relief, Bob walked downstairs. There was a pile of folded laundry on the table, and the sight of the clothing almost made him pass out with anxiety. He ran into a different room and huddled in the corner wondering what was wrong with him. Why was he so afraid of all of his clothes? The more he thought about it, the worse his fears became.

Good Introduction?

        This is a small part of the first chapter of my novel, titled "Monroeville". This is just a small part of the introduction, but do you think it is good? Does it seem like a true introduction? I wrote it a while ago, and haven't really looked back since.

        “Don’t worry Cali,” My dad told me as he hopped into the driver’s seat of our minivan. “You are going to love Monroeville! The people there are so nice, and friendly.”

        I sighed. We were leaving sunny, beautiful California, and we were moving to dull, rainy Monroeville. What kind of name is Monroeville anyway? In Monroeville it rained almost every day, and you could never see the sun there. Monroeville is a hundred times different from California.

        A tear rolled down my cheek as we drove away from our house, and Megan’s house. Megan is my best friend, and I was devastated I had to leave her. She was in the window of her house, waving and crying. I had to look away so I wouldn’t break down…again.

        Out of all the people in the world, I was most surprised my mother had agreed to moving. She absolutely hated the rain. That’s why she lived in California her whole life. Monroeville would be her own personal hell. My dad on the other hand could care less about the rain. I swear I was not related to him.

        “I guess we will just have to learn to love the rain,” My mother said from the passenger seat, as if she was reading my mind.

        “Better say goodbye to the sun now.”

        My parents started talking about Monroeville, but I didn’t want to hear it. I grabbed my Ipod out of my purse, and put on the headphones. I blared Fall Out Boy, so I couldn’t hear anything. This was going to be a very long, boring trip.

Lacking a Title

Graphic Novel

Panel 1.1 & 1.2:

Busy hallway at Nashua High School South. The white and purple tiles on the floor adding a strange contrast to the bright colors of the students clothes. Some of the teenagers are laughing with their friends. Others are walking down the hallway avoiding the awkwardness of walking alone by texting, listening to music or staring at the floor. The noise is deafening.

Panel 1.3:

Take a left and see the glass doors outside where it’s beautiful and sunny. The clouds are all white and wispy and the grass is green. Four benches and a parking lot can be seen. “I want to be outside.” She thinks to herself. “Anywhere but here.”

Panel 1.4:

The parking lot starts to transform. Grass is growing where the cement is and the cars are fading. The girl just continues to stare out the doors, now we see the silhouette of her head.

Panel 1.5:

We now see the girl waist and up. The cars are almost invisible now and twisted trees are popping up. Grey/ brown in color. Their purple leaves fading into view. The concrete almost completely gone. The sky is starting to shift to a blue purple.

Panel 1.6:

The cars have disappeared, we see the girl entirely, but in a dark silhouette. The purple leaved trees are now fully in view and giant mushrooms begin to appear. As with some bushes and large plants. The sky is now more of a purple then blue.

Panel 1.7:

The sky is a pinky purple now and the mushrooms have popped up. They range from all the colors of the rainbow. The grass is longer and with a lot of shades of greens and yellows. The plants are almost done popping up. The girl is in the same position but now her head is slighty turned.

Panel 2.1:

The scene is completed. The sky is now salmon colored. The girl is pressing against the door opening it.

Panel 2.2:

The girl is stepping out of the doors; we see her face and body. She’s thin with long hair and side bangs. The reflection of the world that just appeared is showing in the schools glass doors which have already begun to fade.“Where am I?” She asks quietly.

Panel 2.3:

She steps forward and a little girl appears in the reflection but not where the older girl is standing. The school is mostly gone.

Panel 2.4:

The girl appears slightly behind the young woman. The little girl is wearing pants, boots and a plain t-shirt. Her hair is long, light and wavy with bangs in the front. She has big blue eyes and small ears. The young woman is still staring in awe and confusion. The school is completely gone now.“Hello.” Says the little girl.“Oh my!!” Says the older girl in shock.

Panel 2.4:

“I... I didn’t see you there. Sorry.” Says the older girl.“I’m Cherise.” Says the younger girl.“I’m Sarah.”

Panel 2.5:

“How did you get here?” Inquires Cherise with her head slightly turned to the side.“I don’t know… I just didn’t want to be in school anymore. Where am I?” Replies Sarah now facing Cherise.“School?” Cherise questions. Sarah looks at her with a confused look. “Well… anyway, it’s getting dark. You better come home with me.” Cherise chirps.Panel

Can you invision this?

Irish Wedding

         I would like to know if you can picture it and if maybe I should add more detials to the sentences.
        She smiles slowly and looks down at the waiting crowd. She looks to her left and eyes the spiral railing, coated in while lillies and roses. She turns her head to the right, her dads arm linked with hers. She lifts her white dress and decends the stpes one stair at a time.
         Everything seems to be moving in slow motion. The crowd rises as she reaches her last steps; her eyes scan the crowd looking for the most important person in this sea of people. Straight ahead she spys the man at the alter. He lifts his head and a huge grin spreads across his face, she smiles back. She reaches the end of the the ile; her dad squeezes her hand one last time before letting go and kissing her cheek. She joins hands with the man waiting at the alter and as her smile grows a small tear streams down her cheek. "We are gathered here today...''


        Can you picture this inside your head or is there not enough details? What would you recommend to make this better?
        My clothes are out to get me. Everything I look at in my closet has a face . And it's not like a friendly smiley face, its a scary face. There's paint all over its face, sharp teeth hanging from its mouth like a shark; its eyes are black with a tint of red. When you look at my shirt you can't help but see a face that wants to eat you and pants that say 'if you put me on I will eat your legs.' Socks that will cut off your feet.
         I don't want any of those on me so I make clothes out of paper bags and trash bags. That way I'm not running around naked. But when I walk around on the streets, I look around and everyone's elses clothes have faces too. So I trap myself in my house and all you can see is clothes all over my front yard.

The Pastry Chef

        There once was a pastry chef named Steve. Steve was the best pastry chef in the entire state of New Hampshire but he was crazy. He was afraid to leave his house so he did all of his business from his house. Customers would call ahead then come pick up their pastries once Steve called them to let them know he was finished.
         Steve had been a police officer when he was young but retired at a young age to follow his dreams of owning a pastry shop. He was the best police officer on the force and he was hated by the mafia. After being a police officer for many years he became paranoid. He constantly thought that someone from the mafia was going to come and bump him off.

Description of a Town

This is the beginning of a story. This story is being introduced and it starts with the description of a town that is the setting.

                                                         The Strange Town

      Wandering has become a pastime for me in the recent years. I find myself always on the road wandering from city to city. Oftentimes, I even find myself walking with no destination at all. It seems that I just go where the roads take me. I found myself in this situation one fall morning, wandering aimlessly in a tall forest. Having not rested properly the day before, I was delighted to see something that resembled a large town in a large clearing in the woods. The path I followed that led me to this town was less of a road and more of a crude trail. The streets themselves were reminiscent of the roads in the horrible ghettos that I studied as a schoolboy. The roads were littered with trash and filth and the sidewalks were unkempt and dirty. I could hear the sounds of a horse drawn wagon in the distance. I would have guessed that the town was uninhabited by civilized people if it weren’t for the magnificent houses that formed a hallway before me.

      Each house that stood on this road might have been home to a wealthy noble. Some houses were constructed with beautiful red bricks and their shingles seemed to shine in the light of the sun. Through their windows, I could see beautiful drapes and furniture that came from foreign lands. Other homes resembled the Victorian Era houses I saw in Great Britain. The paint that covered the wood of the buildings was a soothing blue, unscathed by the blazing sun as if it were painted just yesterday.

      I walked down the road and noticed that as far as the eye could see, beautifully constructed houses lined the streets. What intrigued me more was the fact that not a single one of these beautiful houses seemed to be complete. There was always some sort of work being added on to these buildings, no matter if it was the construction of a new addition or the tearing down of a part of the building to replace it with something more illustrious. A horse drawn wagon came into view as I continued my walk. I could see a single dirt-coated man driving the carriage and in the back, I observed numerous construction supplies like bricks, mortar, and wood. I kept watching him as he drove his carriage in front of a house where a group of men came out to gather the supplies. The driver also came down from his seat and grabbed a stack of bricks and carried them to the back of the house.

      I now focused my attention to finding someone who was in charge of this town. I saw in the distance a large castle that I thought might belong to the mayor or whoever governed this place. I made my way in that direction hoping that I might find some food and drink along the way.

The Mysterious Box

        This is something I did during a writing exercise in class. My main focus in this piece of writing was describing the surroundings and painting a picture in the reader's head. Unfortunately, I did not get the chance to finish this piece.
        It was a beautiful day in mid-March. Jenny decided it was the perfect day to finally take her dog Sparky for a walk. Sparky was a bouncy Golden Retriever who loved finding new things. As Jenny and Sparky made their way down the familiar neighborhood street, Jenny noticed just how much crap washes up onto the sidewalks and stays hidden underneath the snow banks all winter long. There was litter of all kinds and this kind of thing disgusted her. At the corner, Jenny felt a strong tug on the leash as Sparky did a nosedive into one of the remaining snow banks. Struggling to pull the pup out of the bank, she slid backwards on some slush. Jenny was still trying to recover her balance at the same time that Sparky pulled a mysterious box out of the bank.
        “Sparky! What have you got?!” Jenny wondered aloud as she took the box from his tightly clenched jaw. Cautiously peeking under the lid, Jenny discovered a key to an Audi. It flipped up and folded back into place to make itself more compact. At this, she was puzzled and began to wonder what a car key would be doing in a strange box in a random snow bank. She pocketed the key and began to search for the German sports car.
        Jenny held the key out in her hand for Sparky to sniff the scent, and after just a few seconds, he was tugging further off the street and down a path in the woods. As she was pulled along Jenny couldn’t help but wonder what an Audi would be doing out in the woods. Finally, the two came to a clearing and sure enough, there was a 2010 red Audi A4 positioned there. Flipping the key up, Jenny pressed the unlock button and opened the door to let herself and Sparky inside. To her relief, the car was a 6-speed manual. With great excitement, Jenny pushed in the clutch and turned the key.

Amy and Alex

        This is a section pf a script I'm working on. I was wondering if it had enough detail about the characters and situation. If you could give any input I would really appreciate it.
        Amy turns around to see a dark hooded figure standing behind her. She tries to scream but the man put his hand over her mouth and with his free hand grabbed her arm to restrain her. He told her to be quiet and he released his hand on her mouth. Amy let out a blood-hurdling scream. Alex had just entered his mom's bedroom when he heard Amy scream. He didn't think, he just ran down the stairs, three steps at a time.
        Alex finally found Amy in the family room and also found a man standing next to her. He had grabbed her by the hair and had a knife to her throat.She was whimpering like she had already been beaten. Alex didn't know what to do. The man had Amy as far away from the entrance as possible so Alex couldn't grab her and run.

September 23, 2010

Why The Pastry Chef Was Afraid To Leave His House.

        Why The Pastry Chef Was Afraid To Leave His House is a fable that is about how a Chef is afraid to leave his house, because the blackbirds in the willow tree in front of his house will attack for his pastries. I feel as if Icould've made this more age appropriate, because it is intended to be for children eight and under. How could I make this more age appropriate?
        The Pastry Chef was afraid to leave his house, because he was afraid that all of the blackbirds in the old willow tree would eat his pastries. They loved the Chef's creations, so any opportunity they had to get some, they did. It happened once before, the Chef left his home carrying two blackberry pies. The blackbirds smelled the delicious aroma of the pies, and attacked the poor Chef to get them.
        If he ever needs to transport his pies, he does it in the wee hours of the night when the blackbirds are asleep. But even then he must be very quiet, because you never know when they will attack.

The Awk-Walk

        Have you ever been walking down the hallway at your school and saw a familiar person at the other end? This wasn't any familiar person though, this is Brett Johnson, you did a project with in 8th grade and used to be pretty good friends with eachother. But with time people's friendships fade and new friendships are gained.
        Brett was never a very outgoing person and you haven't spoken to him in a couple years now. By this time you are with in 30 yards of Brett now both awkwardly faking cell-phone usage and looking anywhere but towards eachother. Finally you are with in 10 feet of Brett and the moment of truth has came, should you say hi and try to re-kindle a long lost friendship? Or do you go on with your day and leave memories of Brett Johnson to Mrs. Walkers 8th grade english class.
        SAY HI.
        There is truly no harm in simply greeting someone and noticing their exsistince. To many times this has occured to me with far to many individuals. Brett Johnson was just an example, but this situaiton happens with many old friends, teachers, parents and anyone else you have spent time of your life with. My theory: If you have spent the most precious thing you posses (your life) with an individual at any moment in time, then you can take the energy to simply greet them while walking by. There is no such thing as having to many friends, keep them. =)

September 17, 2010

Snippet of Work

This is just a snippet from a book I wrote over the summer. I edit backwards so this is raw material. There are a few spots in here that I believe to sound a bit strange. Could you possibly make some suggestions as to what I can do about that? Thank you.

The fog filled the night as he leaned over the solid railing of a stone bridge that held just above a small creek while twirling a dagger in his hand. His rugged black hair seemed to lie against his forehead comfortably and faintly touched his eyes that were pools of deep blue. It wasn't the color of his eyes that seemed strange but it was how they appeared. Those eyes hidden underneath his hair, they seemed as if no soul lived behind them and his pale complexion magnified his lifeless appearance. In the dead of the night hidden underneath his black trench coat that struck him just at the knee, it was hard to see what the man truly looked like. From his sturdy hands, it was easy to assume that he was stronger than he may appear even though his calm vacant expression would allure people to think otherwise. While he stood hunched over the solid railing of the bridge, it was still able to be told that he was of average height and weight.

This man sighed and stuck the dagger into his inner trench coat pocket before turning around. Another man stood there, hidden by the fog, with a gun drawn ready to fire. Through the blanket of fog, this second man seemed to be of similar build but an aura of high intellect surrounded him. His hands shook the gun slightly and his dark blue baseball cap hid his face from discovery. “So you finally decided to show up, eh Jordan?”

September 15, 2010

I need help with a character

This is a scene from my novel, “Leaving Home.” The main character, Hayley, and her family are on the first colony ship leaving Earth to a destination 86 years away.  Hayley is 12 years old. Does her reaction to the situation seem age appropriate and how can I make it more so?

       I took a long look around. More teal. The color scheme alone was enough to drive me crazy. Our “quarters” were just that, a space about one quarter the size of our house back in New Hampshire. Mom and Dad had a 10-by-10-foot room for themselves. There was a 12-by-12 family room with some chairs, a couch and a large video screen, and a tiny bathroom with a combined sink and toilet (showers were “communal,” Mom said). The room Dobby and I were to share was 8 by 8, with bunk beds.
       “I get top,” Dobby said, practically sprinting up the ladder to the upper bunk.
        I took a deep breath but it didn't help.
        “Mom, I don't want to share a room with him.”
       “It won't be so bad when you get used to it,” Mom said. “Each bunk has a privacy screen that you can use to shut us all out. There's a video screen in there, a lap desk and some shelves for your personal stuff. You'll be fine. It's only until you graduate high school, and then you can move to the singles' dorms if you want.”
       “That's in four years!”
        I was yelling now. I'd left all my friends behind, left Julie, left grandma, left all my stuff, left my planet and now I had to share a room with my brother!
       “This was your idea, not mine! I didn't want to go. I could've stayed with Julie!”
        I glared through tears. Back home I would have run outside or up to my room. Here my options were limited. I could I run out to the corridor where anyone could see me or to my bunk and hope that I could figure out the privacy-screen controls before I looked stupid.
       I opted for the bathroom, locking the door behind me.