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Comments
The former are known as bad writers. The latter are known as good writers.
inuh y u ninjar
I somehow read that as voredescribe.
:l
This is because I cheat chagen, and I used random sentence generators when I was younger to practice.
Chagen... you can be a good writer.
You won't be the best, but you can be a good writer. It might be by luck. It would probably be through practice... but you can manage it.
The only thing standing between you and being a good writer is.... well... YOU.
The downside is that being a good writer will not make you happy.
Being a good writer won't stop you being miserable... And even when people sing your praises, you will STILL think it is shit. And you will still periodically argue with everyone, and some people will be annoyed... and others will urge you to continue until you consent again.
But if you get lucky, you might have something that people will remember you for.
Well... lucky or unlucky depending on perspective.
I pretty much AIM to be forgotten when I die.
On a related note... I think a good way to get better at writing is to read other peoples work and look for things you could do better. Edit them maybe, then don't make those mistakes yourself. There is nothing quite as satisfying as being a critic, and finding reasons why other people suck. ^_^
Chap. 1
“Hi, and welcome to Brack, College town of the US!”
Oh brother, I thought. Who's this girl?
I brought my Ronin to a stop until the red-haired girl finally came up to the window. I took another swig of soda—not like it tasted any better after being in my car for 6 hours.
“So, you seem to be a new kid around here.” She beamed as I rolled down the window. “We're getting them all the time here.”
“Yeah. I am.” I didn't look at her as I said it. “My name is Mikane Beatrice. Yours?”
“Amy.”
“Last name, please?”
“That's a secret.”
Oh, brother. She was kinda cute, with her twintails and all, but sometimes those secretive types could be annoying. I sighed and let her in my car. Even if she did kill me, at least I could try to kiss her or something.
She got quite comfortable on my chair. Slowly, she was melting me.“So, where you gonna go from here?”
“Wolfgang School of Arts and Music. Right near here.” I replied dryly.
“Oh, you're one of those artsy types.” She smirked. “We get a lot of them.”
“I guess you could say I'm artsy. I mean, I like to paint and play piano...” I shrugged in boredom. “But I'm not some pretentious jackass.”
“Anyway, I guess you're gonna show me around town, right?”
“Yup. But, first, I want you to meet me friends. We're like the 'introducing crew' of Brack.”
I sighed and took another swig of warm soda. She was cute. If annoying. Kinda like my younger sister. It was a month before school started—plenty of time to meet some cool people. You'll never make friends if you don't socialize.
I drove off. Brack was a very nice place. Plenty of rollling hills, blue-lakes, and an overall homey feel. There was quite a few forests and wilds around, but the town itself was civilized for only having about 800 people living in it.
As far as the brochure went, Brack was split into two areas. On the east, was all the homes. On the west, was all the nightclubs and other places. Separating the two was a large lake—Lake Brack, whose shore was a apparently a nice vacation place. Those who were gearheads had two choices—a raceway just outside city limits, and the various off-road routes around the whole town. Amy was repeating this information in my ear as I drove and found her house.
It was a small two-story home, but relatively nice-looking. Brink on the outside, and a cobblestone patio.
I felt like impressing Amy a little bit. I had sometimes followed my brother to the track, and he would let me put some laps down. So I had experience in advanced driving maneuvers, and I always liked to show them off.
I approached Amy's house, and then immediately slammed on the parking brake. The Ronin immediately locked up its wheels. I only had seconds to make my next move—I swung the wheel to pivot my car on the wheels, sending it into a skid.
“HEY, WAIT-”
I ignored her—I had to focus utterly on the drift or I would crash the car. Once the car started to spin, I applied more power to pivot it even more. The engine roared as the back tires began to spin, giving off that sweet smoke I so adored. My seatbelt dug into my chest, nearly cutting off my ability to breathe, but it wasn't any different from when my brother would have me sit in his lap when he drove off in his dragsters at 200 MPH.
One doesn't need to breathe when you're doing this. Your feet and hands should move faster than your brain.
Halfway through the turn, I steered even sharper to completely turn the car around, my car's tires screaming as I slid towards the curb, until I finally jammed the brakes. A massive grinding noise emitted from them as I skidded into a perfect parallel park, smoke utterly surrounding me and Amy, the smell of burnt rubber in the air. Both of us were in complete silence for a few seconds as the smoke dissipated into the sky.
“Woah.”
“Pretty cool, huh? I hoped you liked it, because my brakes just lost about half a year's worth of stopping power there.”
“No, I mean, you can't do that in a AWD. The Ronin is an AWD.”
I raised my eyebrow, surprised at her knowledge of my car. “I bought the special RWD edition, just to do that.”
“Oh, that's why.”
“I'm surprised that you know stuff about cars.”
“Oh, I knew you were a car nut as soon as I saw you. Only car nuts buy Ronins.”
“Hm...you got me. My brother was a gearhead to the max.”
“Impressive. You're gonna like my Patriot V8, then....”