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Author Topic: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___  (Read 160030 times)

MorleyDev

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1800 on: November 13, 2017, 04:32:46 pm »

Found one of my attempts at a not-1st-person short story. Weighing up whether to polish it off and finish it or not.

Spoiler: "Duty (1932)" (click to show/hide)
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Fniff

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1801 on: November 13, 2017, 09:47:01 pm »

First thing, damn good prose. Hooked me from the first paragraph and on.
However, I'm noticing a slight inmanlanvein theme. While the title and the first paragraph indicate the theme being duty, the rest of the text focuses on evil hiding beneath a quiet English vaneer. If you're gonna polish it up (and I recommend you do) I'd focus on Calais's sense of duty as that resonated much better. Make it so he didn't read the book because he wanted to: make it that he was dutybound to do it. In fact, since we're clearly heading towards some sort of shooting spree at the local service (great use of location framing by the by), make it so he's doing it not because he particularly wants to enforce justice, but because he feels bound to do so. Calais's sense of being bound to do what he's done not by personal initiative but by the whims of change and love really resonated with me.
The more obviously horrific theme of evil hiding under pleasantry is good, but duty will really tie it all together, methinks.

Ehndras

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1802 on: November 22, 2017, 09:35:25 pm »

I enjoyed that, thanks for sharing. :) Speaking of unpolished, I recently found an old Advie RP from BattleMaster I forgot existed. Ah, the fun of a quick late-night token RP turned backstory. With some serious editing perhaps it can be assembled into a respectable short-story.


(http://wiki.battlemaster.org/wiki/Black_Scimitar_of_Crushing)

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roseheart

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1803 on: December 05, 2017, 02:24:16 pm »

Story Prompt:


Here, he's here. Watching me... I smell him...feel him under my skin. Inside me.
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Th4DwArfY1

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1804 on: December 05, 2017, 02:49:31 pm »

There is a darkness inside us all.

Thramar drew his sword, blade held upwards. Let the light play its fingers across the cold, cold metal. Then he drove it point-down into the frozen ground before him. In the distance, trees cracked under their loads of snow. A wolf howled. The eyes of owls pricked his skin.

The sword stood still and resolute. Only a small tremble, barely visible, betrayed the emotion of its wielder. Sweat beaded his brow, and condensation trickled down the length of metal. Too long, now. Too long. He had run, but now he would stand. He would stand. Resolute. The blood of his fathers demanded it be so.

Silence.

Dark, brooding silence.

The wolves had perhaps gone elsewhere, the owls flown from their perches and ceased their noise. But the woods themselves? The creaking, the breathing of a mighty mass of wood? Silenced between one heartbeat and the next? It heralded only one thing. Doom had come for Thramar.

First, came the tendrils of darkness. Against the whiteness of the snow they were deep and profound, wrapping between the distant boles of trees, spreading, wind-like, along the frozen plains. Catching hold of the hill on which he crouched, tense. Caressing it like a lost love, then climbing, slower now. Individual tendrils met and fused into one whole, one terrible pool of black, and him on an island of white in the middle.

Then, the smell. Tar. Flame and death and destruction and the folly of youth, all wrapped into one bundle that smelled of war. A profound stench which he knew well; his hand spasmed around the sword's hilt, gouging the steel deeper into the bare earth. A smell he knew too well.

Third, and final, the memories. A woman's face. A sweet face, turned towards him, a glint of intelligence deep within the hazel depths. Not a beautiful face; too hard for that, sculpted by Northern winds and the trials of life. No, not a comely one was she, but she was his, and he loved her dearly. She smiled in his mind's eye, then turned. From the side, he could see the rot. Through her breast, a sword. A sword familiar and heavy in his hand, the wildness of battle, a mistimed stroke... and then the pain. Running. Running. Knowing that his disgrace drew the Fathers' fury, that he was no longer Kith nor Kin.

The Blood Fathers know well the trials of war, but they could never condone one who became wild in battle, who lost morality. One such as him.

The darkness converged.

He was in the centre.

It was in him.

In his mind's eye, a woman's smile.

A sob broke from his mouth, and he fell to the unforgiving earth. The sword spun away from his clenched fists, and he beat the ground. Inside and out both became one. All was darkness, and all was lost.

Helenah.
« Last Edit: December 05, 2017, 02:51:24 pm by Th4DwArfY1 »
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Th4DwArfY1

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1805 on: December 06, 2017, 10:58:13 am »

Really, no one else will write something?

Well alright, then.

I'll just leave my post there.

All alone.
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Arx

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1806 on: December 06, 2017, 12:01:15 pm »

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Happy? :P
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Th4DwArfY1

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1807 on: December 06, 2017, 12:13:01 pm »

Ye gods, man. I think you got the horror of the situation much better than me, anyway.
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Sanctume

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1808 on: December 06, 2017, 02:35:45 pm »

Spoiler: original (click to show/hide)

I felt like writing, so I hope you don't mind my re-write exercise.

Spoiler: re-write exercise (click to show/hide)

Urist McScoopbeard

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1809 on: December 06, 2017, 02:41:07 pm »

Careful about mixing that passive and active voice my good sir!
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Ehndras

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1810 on: December 08, 2017, 02:03:51 am »

Halp? Trying something new. Paint Criticize me like one of your French women.

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Th4DwArfY1

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1811 on: December 08, 2017, 09:19:45 am »

Halp? Trying something new. Paint Criticize me like one of your French women.


Hmmm, actually, I started altering before realising I was probably going against the grain. Which tense were you going for?
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The Moonlit Shadow

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1812 on: March 24, 2018, 06:24:26 pm »

Well this thread is super dead, isn't it?

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Th4DwArfY1

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1813 on: March 28, 2018, 06:20:54 pm »

In lands of green-swathed rivers lost
To time that stretches blinding long
We march the way to Isengard
With sorrow for a song.
The birchen leaves are silver hued
Becalmed the many clouds of storm.
Deep come our voices now, and loud –
The pear tree weeps as does the thorn.

Da dum. Da dumpty dum dii dum.
The forge’s flame is flickering.
Da dum. Da dumpty dum dii dum.
Of death and greed entwined we sing.

Long past we sheltered from the rains
‘Neath vast and varied branches spread
Above the leafy canopy
Which formed our sylvan head.
I can recall… so long the thoughts are like
Groundwater in a drought ….
Appleblossom and elderberry sweet
As lithe as limbs could ever be
Upon this land across the Sundering Sea.
Sun-ripened Corn, Gooseberry coy
Strawberry sweet as summer wine.
Each one I loved, each one I miss
Across that gulf of time.

Da dum. Da dumpty dum dii dum.
The forge’s flame is flickering.
Da dum. Da dumpty dum dii dum.
Of death and greed entwined we sing.

To Isengard which hacks and hews.
To Wizard Tower in the vale.
Through sun and rain and winter gusts.
Through sorc'rous snow and hail.
Da dum. We go. We go. One more
March ‘ere our story ends.
The oak tree weeps its verdant blood -
Why ought we fight but for our friends
Who grew in peace, prosperity
To fall at last despite their years
To fuel the wizard’s fruitless industry!

DA dum. DA dum. Long have we lived,
My fellow leafy friends
Since Elves first sang so that we heard
The tune which grows, the song that mends.
Aye, ages pass and altered generations walk
So that I can no longer quite recall
The words.
How did our mighty race to warring fall!

I know not, though you ask me Aspen young,
Beseech me ancient Oak.
That song is lost. But this remains. For brethren slain.

Da dum. Da dumpty dum dii dum.
The forge’s flame is flickering.
Da dum. Da dumpty dum dii dum.
Of death and greed entwined we sing.
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Cryxis, Prince of Doom

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Re: ___/The Writer's Apprenticeship\___
« Reply #1814 on: April 03, 2018, 12:04:29 am »

I stumbled across a 13 page story that I never finished in high school and was reading through making little edits here and there to possibly pick it up again. Would this be an appropriate place to post it for some critique and see if it's worth finishing or just dropping and starting a different story?
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