Writers Thread!

Yay, I'm glad you all like this thread! 

@mspaceK Yay -- thank you so much for sharing! Amazing! I hadn't even thought of sharing so well done for being brave enough to post!

So, the TV show/movie GR last night really inspired me and got me thinking about the kinds off characters I/ other people like. For me, the story starts with the characters -- I usually get the idea of a character first, then build the world around them (I don't really write fantasy/ sci-fi that often). I try to make them as multi-faceted and human as possible and then decide what is the story they want to tell. It sounds weird but so many of my stories haven't worked because I found it doesn't really fit the main character's passions/ what they would want to do/ the story they would feel is the most important. Unfortunately I make too many characters and have a lot of 'homeless' ones with no story to go into at the moment, hahaha.

I do find writing to be quite enjoyeable, and I do courses at uni, but one of my favourite past times is making poems out of Elton John's songs e.g. here's a poem out of some of my favourite Elton John songs: 

Reality it seems, was just a dream but I was just a kid, rolling through the hay like a puppy child. I took a chance, and changed your way of life, now the wind has changed direction and I'll have to leave. But the biggest kick I ever got between you and me I could honestly say bopping in the country, fishing in a stream. I got a taste of love in a simple way right between the eyes And I think it's gonna be a long long time for just a skyline pigeon lying here with no one near. 

It was a way to express some thoughts and feelings @Hozzles .

Character building is lots of fun and it's something I think I need to work more on. I really like to world build though and then see how people would react in that kind of environment and build from there. It all goes together in the end. 

That piece of writing I did is the first lot of writing I have done in ages! 

It's not from anything - it was something that just came to mind in the moment. 

There is a little twig flying through the wind. It is so small and thin that even a very small child could snap it easily in two. Frail and small. The wind picks it up higher carrying it over fields and roads. Other trees watch as it passes by, each tree hugging onto its family afraid to let any pieces go. Most succeed and keep their branches and leaves in check. The wind isn't too strong today. Only the weak get taken and churned up in the wind, our little twig is no exception. And our little twig is broken. If you look close enough you can see residue of tree sap bleeding from its body. What did this little twig do to deserve to be separated from its family? Somewhere out there, there is a tree calling for its baby. But it will never hear. 

Suddenly the wind stops and the twig falls to the ground. The voices of the trees stop too, for there is no wind to carry their cries anymore. Perhaps the little twig can rest now? Taking one final look and a gasp of breath, the little twig smiles for he is at last at home, surrounded by the Earth from which it came. 

@mspaceK that is very beautiful, and very sad. You've got me feeling sympathy for a twig now...

I don't know why that made me laugh when I realised we're feeling sympathy for a twig 😛 @Tiny_leaf 

Also thank you! 

Writers have a weird ability to do that.. 

I once challenged a friend of mine to write a cheerful poem about an apple. It.. was more of an existential poem about an old apple core, but she was very happy with it.

And you're welcome!

That sounds really cool @Tiny_leaf . 

@mspaceK It was, and I was impressed... she's a really good writer, but I think she finds cheerful poems a bit boring.. 

I see. 

Well good stories have good conflict! 

I like reading emotional grip taking stories @Tiny_leaf 

Very true @mspaceK..

I like emotional stories, but then if they're too emotional my hyper-empathy kicks in.

Though I have a weird habit of finding "depressing" song lyrics weirdly uplifting..

I think I understand @Tiny_leaf . Sometimes listening to a depressing song makes me feel better at times. Odd but true. 

@mspaceK definitely. 

Also, I'm feeling brave. Wanna hear some of my writing? (fair warning though, it might be awful.. I can't really tell with my own stuff)

Absolutely @Tiny_leaf . Only if you feel up for it! 

@mspaceK here goes:

Wow @Tiny_leaf! Thanks for sharing! 

Sorry in advance for bringing negativity into this thread, but I've been having a really hard time with writing recently. I almost feel like I've forgotten how to write. Perfectionism is so bad sometimes that just writing an essay or something feels like pulling teeth. All I want is to be able to enjoy writing again because I love everything about it. Does anyone have any ideas or tips to help? 

@Hozzles thank you. 

One thing that I do, which is probably a little weird but it works well for me; is to write something purposely terrible. The clumsiest piece of writing I can possibly do, the kind that primary school English teachers probably have nightmares about.

Because after I've written that, it reminds me that nothing bad has happened, even after birthing one of the worst pieces of writing that I possibly could; nothing went wrong.

The Gordon Ramsey of literature doesn't appear speechlessly shaking his head at me, the FBI doesn't burst through the door and confiscate all writing implements. (though I'd kinda like to see that in a sketch type thing...)

It all turns out okay.

And that kinda reassures me that no matter how my writing turns out, no harm will be done. I can give it my best go and if it doesn't work I can just get rid of it and try again.

Plus the terrible writing is actually weirdly fun..

That's exactly what I was going to suggest @Tiny_leaf . @Hozzles . My English teacher had real trouble getting me to write essays in school under 'tests' because I would freak out and completely mental blank.  Everything I wrote sounded terrible and I couldn't put any words on the paper.  I would spend an hour sitting there staring at a blank piece of paper. My problem was that I was trying to write perfect. I would think of the same sentence for the same thing about 20 different times. So my teacher said - "I don't want to see anything written well..I only want to see poorly written writing and Lots of it..." 

I am a perfectionist as well and this was such a bizarre concept for me. But I started writing with the thought of "I know this is terrible but it is better than nothing and when I have time after I get the main parts out, then i can go back and edit." 

The other thing too is that if you write crap but get the general story gist down then you can use that as a foundation and then you can come back to it when you're ready and it could spark other ideas to get you going. 

@mspaceK that's how I write my poems.

The anatomy of any poem I write is 15% original words that I kept, 5% words that I added in proof reading and 70% random phrases that I threw in there to see how they sounded and later removed. 

An art teacher of mine said that the first line you draw rarely ends up in the final piece no matter how good it is, which can also be used for writing. 

It's pretty cool how things all come together @Tiny_leaf . Have you been doing much writing recently? I have been thinking about doing some writing to take my mind off stuff and also just for fun because I like it. I've been daydreaming though which is also fun. 

@mspaceK not really, I'm going through a drawing "phase" right now, so I'm doing that more than poetry currently. I seem to switch between them every so often for no reason..

@Tiny_leaf That's still pretty awesome 😃 I go through phases of reading and watching shows and video games among other things all the time. I get what you mean. It's like you just gotta be in the right mood for something at any given time 🙂  

Dad. I want you to look at me. Truly look at me. What do you see? 

There's no answer. 

Dad? Can you hear me?

Nothing. 

I'm trying, Dad. Every day. Can you see that?

Still nothing.

Dad, I think about when I was little...when we used to make those milkshakes together. Do you remember?

No response.

I do - you always let me press the buttons. But not for too long...you taught me about the pulses, the right speed. I can see it so clearly!

...

I'm pulsing, Dad. I'm spinning and spinning. Someone's pressing the buttons this time.

There's no sound. No voice. No acknowledgment. Nothing. 

I'm out of control, Dad.

Help me. 

Please?

There's a young girl sitting alone in her room. She is up against the wall with her head resting between her knees as she rocks slowly back and forth. A soft thumping sound seems out of place when her back hits the wall. It's mixed in with the sound of her sobs even though she tries desperately to keep the crying in. Everything feels wrong and out of place. A complete juxtaposition to the perfectly kept room. A bed with neatly dressed sheets and matching pillows fits nicely in the middle of two evenly positioned bedside tables. There's a photograph on the far right one. A picture of a happy couple and beautiful smiles as they wrap their arms around each other. A memory of a beautiful day captured in a moment in time. Moonlight streams in through the open window lighting up the picture and a soft breeze makes its way towards the young girl. She shivers as the breeze finally reaches her and she looks up to remember that she forgot to close the window again. Sighing, she untangles herself and stands. As she walks towards the open window, the light from the photograph catches her eye. For a moment she stops and stares at the picture, then shakes her head and continues towards the window. She's there. The young girl begins winding the window back in and once she is done, she rests her head against the glass and slides down the wall clutching herself and crying again. She looks up to see the picture again and the sobbing becomes stronger. Memories of a time once gone consume her. That girl in the photo, although the splitting image of the girl crying on the floor, is not the same girl. Not anymore. As if reaffirming this belief, the young girl reaches up and grabs the photograph pulling it towards her. She looks at it one last time, takes a deep breath and then throws it as hard as she can against the wall on the other side of the room. The glass shatters with a loud bang. A tare appears on the photo. There's nothing anyone can do to fix it now. There's nothing anyone can do to fix the broken girl. 

The damage has been done.