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General writing discussion.

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Comments

  • They're somethin' else.
    @ Chagen's Nox Carbine

    Fuck yar, Chagen. Show me more.
  • No rainbow star
    INUH: I want to read more of that

    Chagen: I agree with the others. Make a comic. That would make an AWESOME comic

    ...Or cartoon, since you're interested in animation
  • edited 2011-11-04 20:11:11
    Quick excerpt from a battle scene in my story. The style is modeled after the impersonal first person of the Black Company and To Hell and Back. The situation is that this group of soldiers has been assigned to take a small, lightly defended ridge on the right of the battle that might allow them to flank the enemy. 

    We charged across the plain, rifles in hand, dodging craters and bodies left by the dead who had came before us. I narrowed my eyes, concentrating on the far off bunker even as a bullet after bullet whizzed past my head, and hit the chump next to me right in the face, even as some of his blood speckled my face, even as I heard the sound of arti-

    Shit!

    I fell to the ground. I spied a small incline that would keep me safe from snipers and pulled up to it, keeping my head covered,. A guy pulled in next to me. I think it was Alistair. 

    "Can you give me a status report, soldier?" I muttered. Dust covered my helmet. I dared to look up. Some poor asshole had taken a direct hit from a shell. A few others had shells poking out their heads. A fucking lot of good those helmets did them. One had a shell lodged straight in one guy's jaw, it had ripped it clean off.

    "Yeah. I think they have a machine gun nest up there."

    "Great fucking news. We have any armors?"

    "No, sir. They're all preoccupied in the main offensive on the left flank." Soldiers started lining up all along the small incline as it became clear a machine gun nest was up ahead.

    I took off my helmet despite knowing how risky it was, wiped sweat from my forehead. "Okay, men," I called out. "We don't really have a choice since we don't have any armors. We charge the nest with grenades."

    A large slew of curses and complaining rose up. The men hated charging machine gun nests. People always inevitably died.

    "I don't want to hear whining," I growled. "Throw your grenades, wait, run, and pray. Preferably in that order."

    The men grumbled.

    "Need a runner, too," I said. "Needs to tell the medics to hurry their asses up here after we take this bunker."

    I assigned the order to some new guy. He was relieved. The other stared at him with venom.

    After he left, I stared at the bunker. I closed my eyes, gave a soft prayer. "Okay, everyone. On the count of three. One... two... three!"

    I grabbed my rifle, stood up, and started to run. Soon, the others followed me. We ran across the grass, with bullets taking us down in droves. An artillery shell exploded nearby, but the effort was half-hearted. Whoever was shooting at us must be low. 

    I spied the machine gun nest. Four assholes were manning it. I pulled a grenade, readied it, and threw. It was a wonder I wasn't shot down while I was doing that.

    My grenade was accompanied by many others. After they flew through the air, we started to run.

    The machine gunners stared for a few seconds, dazed. They didn't know what to do. They had stopped shooting completely. One actually threw a grenade back, which made me laugh. They said something in Verdinian. By the time they were running, it was too late. 

    The grenades exploded.

    So did the machine gunners.

    The rest of the scene pretty much goes that they get attacked by a tank, they get saved by some flyboys, and then they join the bigger battle. 
  • Okay, I really want to write a deconstruction of all these porn stories that treat sex-slavery/forced prostitution as "lol sexy".

    It will start out like one of those stories. And then it will take the Eva/Madoka route--completely going to utter hell
  • $80+ per session
    I've read quite a few of those.

    I read a really good one that swung back around.
  • They're somethin' else.
    I liked how it cut off from the self monologue, Orcus. As well as the protagonist's dialogue XD
  • ^ Thanks! I'm still learning to work with first person and giving the character a voice.
  • I feel like writing a Yuri story about a perverted Atheist teen, who befriends a "pure" Christian girl.....before working on making her just as perverted as she is.

    This can only go wrong.
  • One foot in front of the other, every day.
    So, got a question.

    What do people think is reasonable when it comes to the descriptions of arms and armour? Given my tendencies, I run the risk of overloading the audience with detail they won't remember. That said, I've tried to keep it as short as possible while retaining the necessarily details. For instance, when describing a sword, I commented on

    - The blade length (in abstract terms, such as "long")
    - The hilt length (likewise, "more than enough room for two hands")
    - The crossguard ("straight, tapering into blunt spikes at the end")
    - The pommel ("broadly oval-shaped, with a wedge forming a ridge at the point of greatest circumference")

    Likewise, I have to describe the armour. In this case, a coat of maille. I tried to describe it based on where it ended:

    - Above the collarbone
    - At the wrists
    - At the ankles
    - The chain skirt is split up the middle to allow for greater movement

    Is this two much detail where "chain coat" or "light, two-handed sword" would do?
  • OOOooooOoOoOOoo, I'm a ghoOooOooOOOost!
    I'd have to see an example in a passage of writing to say if you were pulling it off well. It could go either way.
  • One foot in front of the other, every day.
    Alrighty.



    Underneath was Alistair’s sword belt, which currently held his sword and dagger, both in scabbards. The inspector unsheathed the sword. It was long-bladed, and the hilt was roomy enough for three hands to hold it. The straight crossguard tapered into blunt spikes, and the pommel was oval-shaped with a wedge-like ridge at the point of widest circumference. It was sheathed and the dagger was inspected, which was similar in design. In this case, the blade tapered more heavily and the crossguard curved upwards on both sides, but it was obvious that the same hand had wrought both weapons.
  • OOOooooOoOoOOoo, I'm a ghoOooOooOOOost!
    That's not bad, and gives me a decent picture of them, with the exception of the phrase "oval-shaped with a wedge-like ridge at the point of widest circumference," which I can't quite picture.
  • One foot in front of the other, every day.
    Yeah, it's a pretty difficult image to convey to someone who doesn't know the pommel types. It's like an oval pommel that widens drastically in the middle, from both directions, creating a wedge around the perimeter of that middle section. So if that widening and wedge wasn't there, it would literally be an oval, but with those extra elements the oval is the basis rather than the end product.

    ... I should probably just simplify the pommel. ._.
  • OOOooooOoOoOOoo, I'm a ghoOooOooOOOost!
    The sword sounds fairly simple as a whole, so that might be appropriate. If the sword as a whole were fancy, I'd just suggest using a fancy pommel that happens to be easier to convey in text.
  • MORONS! I'VE GOT MORONS ON MY PAYROLL!
    Chagen: The problem I have with your story is that it presents the atheist in a 'villainous' role. Perhaps better would be the atheist not viewing his position as perverted and instead trying to illuminate the Christian girl. It would make for better philosophical conflict.

    So I started my Nanowrimo thing then stopped due to illness. Tell me what you think on the opening:

    Mankind had left earth for the stars
    centuries ago. You couldn't even reasonably call most of the human
    population earthlings
    anymore. Earth long stopped being the center hub of human activity
    for New Terra long ago. It seemed that a new era of exploration and
    hope was upon us.





    Of
    course, where humanity goes, so too shall its criminals and
    prejudices. Intergalactic war became common place as did all the
    petty vices, not the least of which was the new golden age of piracy
    across the inky sea that is the stars.





    This
    is a record of a group of such pirates. My name is William Silver and
    I was once the cook for the glorious Pirate Ship Yog-Sothoth's
    Wrath
    headed by the champion of
    the Britannia, the terror of the American Empire, the Robin Hood of
    the stars: Captain Halford Starstruck. (No, I don't know if that's
    his real name. Stop asking.) More accurately, this is a record of how
    the Wrath's crew came
    to wealth so great that the entire crew was able to retire
    comfortably. It's a record of high adventure and drama that I hope
    will be remembered fondly alongside favorites such as The
    Count of Monte Cristo, Sherlock Holmes,
    and
    Through The Edge of The
    Galaxy.





    I
    must apologize in advance as this record could not be called
    completely a document of history. As, being only the humble chef of
    such a great vessel, I was not present for many of the exciting
    events to happen within. I was forced to depend on the accounts of
    the crew for many of these recollections, many of which were
    contradictory and some so preposterous that I had to use my better
    judgment as to whether they would stretch the credibility of my
    already fanciful story, despite the well-agreed-upon fact that truth
    is stranger than fiction. I will make a note to mark such chapters
    for which events I am absent from. I also must apologize for some of
    the name changes as well as vague descriptions of crew members. While
    all know that Captain Starstruck is currently a Lord of the Planet
    Amaterasu,
    there are others still of the crew who used their considerably found
    fortune to become quite powerful businessmen and politicians and they
    would be less than pleased about a simple chef (and hopefully
    acclaimed novelist after this) telling the world about their less
    than savory pasts.





    Even
    so, I've done my best to give an otherwise accurate account of those
    days which many of us seem so nostalgic for, though at the time we
    were all more than glad to get them over with. It is my hope that all
    my old friends will find this an accurate account of their
    adventures, and that you oh noble reader will enjoy this fanciful but
    still completely true tale.

  • One foot in front of the other, every day.
    The sword sounds fairly simple as a whole, so that might be
    appropriate. If the sword as a whole were fancy, I'd just suggest using
    a fancy pommel that happens to be easier to convey in text.



    Well, it's not for the sake of the pommel being fancy. The central ridge has a twofold function:

    - Its uneven shape is "autopilot" for a lighter grip, which is a necessity of good swordplay. One's grip should be firm, but not too tight.
    - When using the pommel for striking, a ridge reduces the area of contact, concentrating force into a smaller area.

    Perhaps something along the lines of:

    "The pommel was in the shape of an oval, which sloped heavily in the middle and formed a width-spanning ridge"?
  • "Chagen: The problem I have with your story is that it presents the atheist in a 'villainous' role. Perhaps better would be the atheist not viewing his position as perverted and instead trying to illuminate the Christian girl. It would make for better philosophical conflict."

    Actually, the Atheist is presented as a "hero". I just mean "perverted" as in, "has differing sexual norms than what society expects".

    The real villian is probably the Christian's mother.
  • OOOooooOoOoOOoo, I'm a ghoOooOooOOOost!
    ^^Ah, I see. I can picture that better, I think.
  • Okay, there's this one scene in a story and I have no idea how to write it.

    Some backstory: A while ago, I made a threa that somehow derailed into an AB/DL fic I was writing. Eventually, there was some discussion about the fic. One scene was heavily critisized by Cygan and a few other, because it basically fetishized and downplayed sexual harrassment that bordered on/was pretty much rape. Since then, I have always tried to avoid that in stories.

    But here I am writing another fetfic. And a scene similar to the aforementioned one happens. I don't want to do that same mistake again. I know this is a pretty much a porn story, but it also aims to be more than that (It's a Slice-Of-Life, there's not even a single sex scene), and I don't like to have unfortunate implications like that.

    Ugh. Just throwing this out there.
  • Till shade is gone, till water is gone, into the Shadow with teeth bared, screaming defiance with the last breath, to spit in Sightblinder’s eye on the last Day.
    ...Why not just not have the creepy scene?
  • Because Cygan ripped me a new one hard when I did that before.
  • Till shade is gone, till water is gone, into the Shadow with teeth bared, screaming defiance with the last breath, to spit in Sightblinder’s eye on the last Day.
    She ripped you for excluding a creepy scene?

    I find that hard to believe.
  • Or just disregard what Cygan thinks since chances are she wouldn't be reading your story anyway?
  • For: No, she ripped into me for having it in in the first place.

    DYRE: I know, but I don't like unfortunate implications.

    Do you want a slight summary of the scene? It's completely non-explicit and reads more like a plot summary anyway...maybe some context will help it make more sense.
  • They're somethin' else.
    BRING IT, BITCH!
  • Okay.

    This story takes place in the future, where Virtual Reality is a type of leisure activity enjoyed by many.

    Enter Rom, our protagonist and resident AB/DL. after recieving a pair of VR Glasses (VRG for short) from his parents (who are never home) his friend, Gio, gives him the password and IP Adress of "Abnormal", a sort of DL/AB server where people can just kick back and have fun.

    Enter Nina, an overbearing bitch who decides she's going to be Rom's "surragote mother" and quickly injects herself into his real life, much to his chargrin.

    Also enter Tera, a girl who likes Rom. Through a complicated procedure, she finds out about Abnormal and enters herself. After getting over her initial shock, she decides to sometimes drop by and visit Rom, Gio, and Nina when they're playing.

    Finally, enter Herz, a nerd-ish boy who is Rom's main "rival". He just forces his way in Abnormal and is surprised as what he sees. When he tried to leave, he is informed that proper administrative action must be taken because he hacked in. 

    The action? It's decided by whoever owns the area that was hacked into. It just so happens that this person is Nina. She then decides that Herz is going to have be Rom's "little brother" as a punishment for breaking the AUP/TOS of Abnormal. Herz (who is actually a closested Bisexual AND AB/DL) objects (Because this will reveal his secret and wreck his reputation as a "badass") , but Nina's word is law....

    (You may also notice that all of the characters are named computer-related terms)
  • You can change. You can.
    Or just disregard what Cygan thinks since chances are she wouldn't be reading your story anyway?

    I'd say that disregarding an opinion just because the person who gives it is not interested in your work is rather...dumb.

    Chances are, they are not reading your work for valid reasons. 
  • Cygan ins't reading this work because she's asexual.


    Anyway, I don't want to have unfortunate implications because I don't exactly think glorifying metaphorical-rape is a good thing.

  • They're somethin' else.
    She's not your target audience. Take her advice with a massive grain of salt. Keep it in mind, but if you don't think it'll help you, you can disregard it.

    I... like the idea so far, but do you have an excerpt?
  • Nope, I'm still planning out the plot (there isn't really one, but everyone has to be introduced smoothly. Also, I just picked this back up yesterday.


    And coming up with computer puns for names is a little more difficult that I thought. I don't want them to be obvious, but I don't want them to be awkward sounding.


     

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