No, not that, LOL! As far as my actual stories are going, they're fine. I have most of the lore down for my world/ universe so a lot of stories write themselves. What I'm talking about, is the stuff that's outside my comfort zone or area of ability, or whatever it's called! IE, I can't write mystery or crime and I have a few stories that are in this genre. Another one with the high action, and for this one I have a story in my head that's Canon to my world but unable to write it. It's basically a story with two parts, the first part follows an elite Commando Squad as they infiltrate enemy territory to disable a nuclear reactor that's being used to refine uranium for weapons. The second part, follows an elite Squadron led by the Crown Prince of the nation whose task it is to bomb the reactor facility. I have Chum concept and story parts in my head but no fucking clue how to write it, LOL. It's a last contest is any indication I'm terrible at high action, LOL
(This is satire, take it as you wish. Press Play before reading) Humanity, Humanity never changes... since the dawn of humanity, it has been a constant struggle of survival. In the early years, it was survival against nature with massive beasts, who were faster and much more deadlier than humans. Who found them to be a tasty snack. But Humanity adapted, started crafting ways to defend themselves and even begun fighting back. Soon the tables were turned, and it was Humanity hunting their former predators. Then at some point, Humanity not only hunted the animal but also learned to tame them, providing invaluable resources such as Dogs for defense, Horses for travel and cattle for food. They then began to till the soil, bring about bountiful harvests. Life, for a time, got a bit easier... However, it wouldn't be long before they would face their greatest threat and challenge. Their fellow Humans. Being content with the plot of land they lived on wasn't enough, as the more ambitious amongst them rose to power, and began waging war on each other. They used petty excuses to justify their actions but the reasons have always been the same, land, resources, and slaves. At the Turn of the 21st century, the weapons and resources Humanity uses against each other have changed, become more developed and deadly, but the reasons have remained the same, using any petty excuses they can find to justify their actions. As the world grows dark, hope fades away... Humanity's future is uncertain but one thing is... Humanity, Humanity never changes.
So on a whim, I decided to write the storyline of a video game, not sure why... just shits and giggles I suppose. So this is my rough for the game's story and early level concepts. Enjoy. . and yes, a lot of this is satire, and light-hearted. so please enjoy. ______________________________________________________________________ Vin and Dun: Adventures of Slackers in space Video game one: The Princess and the Rebels Vin and Dun are your typical space slackers, cruising aimlessly around the galaxy smoking their space herbs, without a care in the world. Then one day, after an Imperial Space Cruiser broadsides them, sending Vin’s vintage spacecraft into the ether. They decided to get a little revenge and pull a prank on the Imperial cruiser by pouring sugar into the space tank. (level 1: Vin (or Dun) sneak through the cruiser avoiding security as they make their way to the engine room, where they dumb a pound of sugar into the tank, then make their escape, while security frantically hunts for them) With their prank accomplished, the two sit back as they pull away from the cruiser, feeling rather proud of themselves. However, in the rear view, they can see a squad of Rebel ships appear and attack the cruiser. The two decide to book it before they are seen. Clear of danger, the two sit back and enjoy their space herbs as they snack on some space potato chips found in the Cruiser's mess hall. When suddenly a massive Imperial Warship appears beside them, a small crane hand grabs Vin’s space ride and pulls it into the bey of the ship, where imperial guards arrest them. They are brought before the Space Emperor, who yells at them, calling them pathetic losers and how their little prank caused his daughter, Princess Feona to be captured by the rebels. He then orders them to infiltrate the Rebel prison and rescue her. The Pair are then dumped back into their space ride and shot out into space, where the auto piolet takes them to the pre-programmed destination. They arrive in orbit of the planet Suldanis, and lad in the forest outside of the complex. (Level 2: Vin (or Dun) must make their way through the forest, avoiding patrolling guards and the various fauna that seem to have it out for space slackers. Coming to the end, they talk out the guard leader and find a sewer entrance into the prison) Of course, it would be a sewer, what game isn’t complete without the obligatory sewer level, everyone hates sewer levels. Who writes this crap…. I mean (clears throat) entering the sewers, Vin and Dun that the awful smell of poorly digested meals and toxic waste is the least of their troubles. (Level 3: Vin (or Dun) make their way through the grimy, glowing green sewer, full of various vermin, blob mutants, and security bots. AT the end they must fight the King of the Blob Mutants and enter into the base) Breaking out of the sewers, they find themselves in one of the various showers of the prison complex, making one wonder how many where shanked to death as they bent over to pick up that bar of soap. (Level 4: Vin (or Dun) make their way through the prison complex avoiding or stunning patroling guards, destroying cameras and security bots. At the end they must fight the warden of the Prison Complex, complete with a personal power armor). They find Princess Feona in her cell, chilling out as she waits to be rescued. So typical of Royal Princesses, always the damsels in distress, waiting for some hero to come to rescue them. I mean would it hurt for once to have a Princess rescue herself for a change. (clears throat) I mean with Feona rescued, they must now make their escape. (Level 5: the Prison is now in full alert and every guard is looking for them. Making their way to the Prison’s shipyard, where they find the Warden waiting for them, this time using a mech walker, with full armament. Causing them to use the Prison turrets to take him out) With the warden defeated, they make their escape in one of the rebel ships and make the jump into warp. At this point, Princess Feona scolds to the two for ruining her ship and getting her captured by the rebels. She explains that she has the location of the Rebel’s secret weapon that they plan to use to destroy the Imperial Homeworld. And forced them to help her destroy it, and by helping her, she means they do all the work. They travel to the rebel base hidden on the planet Uldon and land on the outskirts of it. (level 6: infiltrate the rebel base, and make their way to the core, where they fight the boss of the game, The Rebel Commander, who is a cyborg, then jumps into a massive mech, causing Vin and Dun to use turrets to take it out) With the rebel commander defeated, they bomb the core and escape as the facility is destroyed along with the weapon. Vin and Dun celebrate, when suddenly the Imperial Destroy appears, taking off guard, they hear the click of a gun and raise their arms as the Princess holds a blaster to their heads. The two are taken on board, where it is revealed the Princess had been using them to do her father’s bidding. The Emperor proudly pats his daughter’s shoulder as he mocks the pair that they helped wipe out the rebels and now nothing stands in their way of Galactic domination. Congrats morons, you just doomed the Galaxy. The Emperor then orders them thrown out into space. The two float about as Vin says “Dude, where’s my car,” The End.
Hey, so I am working on character profiles for my characters, to help me keep track of them... this is mostly for me but I may do a sort of Charapedia for my books with a snippet of the role of the character in the story, or importance. but for me personally, this is a character sheet. I am using Kristol from Kristol of Ancea as my example, so there are some spoilers about her in the bio. . _____________________________________________________________________ Name: Kristol Aria-Vittoria Dharaventius Human Classification: Ny’Kin Human Species: Kromun Nationality: Turvikean Affiliations: Imperial Family of Avytorea, Royal Family of Tirvuk, Crowns of Avytorea, Her Majesty’s Maidens (Order of Vytra, formerly Kristol’s Maidens),1st Legion of Tirvuk/Avytorea (Order of Maxi), Order of the Dove (Order of Averia), Imperial Elite Security Force (I.E.S.F.), E.T.S. Yukanis, Titles: Arch Angel, Empress, Queen, Princess, Imperial Mother, I.S.F. Officer (Motorcycle Officer), Security Officer (Yukanis), Keeper of the Warden, First Appearance: Kristol of Ancea Role: Main Character Other Appearances: The Warden, Chalicea, Conquerors, The Southern Eagle and the Northern Dragon, Empress Nyniris, Maxwell Hunter: Imperial Security Force, The E.T.S. Yukanis. Kin: H: Maxenious, C: Constantine, Nyniris, Maxititen, F: Iatiten, M: Aria, S: Fyridean Rivalries: Emperor Xiahou Sheung, King Eres, Tyrius Pherangis, Hobbies: Adventuring, Treasure Hunting, sword fighting, shooting guns, Motorcycle Enthusiast, Likes: Roasted Rabbit, Her Family and Friends, Rottweilers, Motorcycles, serving Justice, Security Force Chases, Dislikes: People who get in her way, criminals, Height: 6’3”, Pyshiqe: Toned, Appearance: Olive Skin, Black Hair, Blue eyes, Bio: Born to King Iatiten and Queen Aria of Tirvuk, she would rise to become the first Empress of the Avytorea Empire and one of the four founders of the Reformation and signers of the Thundrian Constitution. She faced off and halt the expansion of the Jadean Empire and inadvertently bring it under control through her daughter, Princess Nyniris. Given the title of Imperial Mother upon retiring as Empress, she spent the rest of her life in service to her citizens and writing one of the First Codexes: a Chronology of her life and Nyniris’ rise to Empress of Jadean, Prior to her death she was taken by the Arch Ange Vittoria becoming an Immortal or Arch Angel, where she joined a cast of MCs in various adventures such as Maxwell Hunter: Imperial Security Force and as a security officer onboard the E.T.S. Yukanis, a transdimensional ship that can travel through the void of time and space
So a few days ago, I posted about learning the truth about how my co-workers think of me, despite the facade they put on and acting like how important I am to the team., blah blah. More like, we don't really want to do it, so we have you JW to do it. Your importance is as a glorified cashier while we do Pharmacy work. Anyways, mini-rant aside. as I mentioned, sometimes my Anxiety gets the best of me, and I act out in ways, that even I openly admit is not acceptable. And I both make fun of it myself and let them do it as well, when I finally come around. So, wouldn't the fact, that my co-workers tease me about my behavior as I do myself, kind of nullify any right to complain later on, and behind my back as it is. I acknowledge it's bad, I acknowledge that I am working to avoid it in the future. Anxiety is a bitch, and part of my anxiety stems from something inside that they will never understand, nor is there any point to tell them. Not to mention my Pharmacy Manger has a policy of what happens in the Pharmacy stays in it, a rule they have violated, especially my whiny and weak Staff Pharmacist who threw me under a fucking Freight Train due to his own incompetence when it comes to leadership. I also have a personal rule to never report anyone to management, unless it affects the function of the Pharmacy and even then it is solely to my Pharmacy Manager and never to a Front Store Manger. this seems a bit unbalanced or unfair to me, but maybe I am missing something. I have already re-calibrated my Point of View, and I am hoping this event does keep my Anxiety in check, but from now on... no bantering, no right to tease me if you are going to go behind my back and complain later on. We all have bad days and I don't piss on you for yours. ETA: So it would seem the plot thickens, things are becoming clearer and a suspect list is mounting. However, I must redact my Staff Pharmacists and two of my co-workers from the suspect pool of what may be teh situation.
So... one thing I enjoy, that I believe many of us clearly enjoy is anonymity, it's why we use user names, and avatars in place of our own images. (though some of you are either brave enough or just don't' care enough to use your own image, CT...) . It allows you to be yourself, online and just keeps your IRL persona separated from your Online one. Now one of the most vital things about this, is locking your profiles with some pretty good passwords... which mine are so difficult I have to write them down or will never remember them. Anyways, why I am here is for another reason. As we go fourth into this age of advancing technology, Identity theft becomes a big concern as it becomes easier for others to steal your Personal Identifiable Information (PII). And despite our extraneous efforts to keep our information private. One of the horrors of this is online data collection sites that gather your information and sell it (Or claim to protect it), gathering it form a brevey of sources that should be deemed illegal to get it from but... hey. One such plays is myLife.com, I bring this name into light, because just moments ago, I went through the steps to demand the removal of my information from their site. Despite having some old email addresses of my (Funny enough nothing current) and no correct Phone Numbers thankfully, it did have my DOB, and Address. Which is fairly enough to at least do some harm. Another reason I bring this to light, myLife.Com, is because I want you my friends, my follow WF Members to go there, and see what they have on you. Interesting caveat, in searching more, it's possible that myLife.Com is a scam site. So that makes it double worse. ETA: and in moments, it's gone. . (P.S. don't need to bother with the Drivers License, I didn't give one) My Email to them:
Hello everyone who takes the time to read my Blogs. . I decided to share a short story I wrote this morning, it was inspired by my beloved Yukon GT, who I call Black Betty. It's something I always sort of kept in my head but the recent theft of my brother's van inspired the end part of this story, so I am sharing it with you. It was a quick, short story, sot of a writing exercise before I take Betty to get her oil change and return home to write. anyways, I hope you guys enjoy. ETA: Forgot to mention I wrote this in the style of a Beyond: Fact or Fiction episode. It's also one of those rare times I use First-Person narration. So please, enjoy my Rare FP POV SS. Edit: Not sure if I need to do this, but inspirations as followed: WH40k (Machine Spirit), Christine (gotta love a ghost car that kills people, lol). Awesome Movie Vehicles and course the piece of shit thief that stole my brother's van and most likely is making a drug mule out of it.. ___________________________________________________________________________ Black Betty The Machine Spirit I have always relied on Betty, my ‘96 Yukon GT, to get me where I needed to go, keeping me safe in the transit. I have owned Betty since she was new off the dealership lot and, in that time, we had many adventures going back and forth from Oregon and California, sliding on black ice, being a buffer between a heavy truck and a tiny compact, when the driver of the truck forgot to put his vehicle in park, when he decided to clean his car out while waiting in a fast food drive thru. She is my Millennium Falcon or V8 Interceptor, I have always felt there was something special about Betty, as though she had a machine spirit, keeping me safe, even in my own recklessness. She always seemed able to push it just a little further to keep out of harm’s way and never failed me when on the road. In the two major accidents I was in, I walked away with just a bruised knee, though sometimes I wonder where it came from. In the few times that I had been rear ended, the other person got the worst of it with Betty driving away with just a scratch. Betty also seemed to enjoy specific music, particularly AC/DC and Black Betty by Ram Jam, to which she got her name. With the recent car thefts in the neighborhood, I decided to get Betty an early twenty-fifth birthday present, and had lowjack installed, it was expensive but losing Betty would be even more costly. However, I wasn’t expecting what was about to happen. It began when I awoke one day to find Betty missing from the driveway, I quickly called 9-1-1, and made a report with the local sheriffs when they arrived. But I wouldn’t have to wait long, the Sheriffs found Betty quickly thanks to the Lowjack, however I was shocked to learn that she was just a few miles down the road. According to the sheriffs, the car thief had become trapped in her, after Betty came to a sudden stop, refusing to start again. The Thief found he was unable to open the doors and the windows would not shattered. Spending hours trying to escape, he became exhausted. When the police arrived, the driver side door opened on its own, allowing the thief to leave and be taken into custody. I was then brought to Betty by the Sheriffs, to see if she would start, and with no effort, she started as I turned the key, almost coming to life, her engine roared loudly in excitement. I went to drive Betty away, however, as we passed the squad car holding the car thief, Betty’s engine roared as though she was growling at him. I merely smirked as I drove on.
Here I am again, that weird part of dreamland, this isn't as good as Ultra Violet Sunset. And I am sure if this qualifies as a Crappy Pasta... though it does have Hyper Realistic blood... this was a dream I had last night... at some point. the other was me eating some RxFudge. But anyways. Naturally I had to share it with all of you. I have a feeling Honey Hatter may get the most enjoyment out of it. This is a very short story, about 226 words ___________________________________________________________________________ The Room is dark, with a light illumination coming from my Pip-Boy clock, giving off a green glow. It was that this moment I realized that I felt something odd with my death, particularly the lower jaw. So I managed to crawl out of bed and slowly stumbled towards the room door and opened it. I stepped out into the tiny hall and into the bathroom, where I flicked on the light. As I looked into the mirror, I used my fingers to pull back my lip to look at my lower gum line, where I noticed a thin vertical cut between the incisors. I used the nail of my pinky to touch it, going down the cut, but as I did this the cut opened and bright red blood began to pour out of it. I lowered my hands as my mouth filled up with blood, and pouring down. I looked at my up held hands as the blood splashed into it and flowing over the sides, my arms now covered in blood. When I looked up, I saw that my face and hair were covered in blood. My skin turned pale and my eyes just stared soullessly at myself. The Blood still flowing down into my upheld hands and cascading over and onto the ground. And all I could think was, what the fuck.
So, something I have been thinking about lately in regards to writing and conforming the rigidity of structure (if you wish to be published, because self-pub is inferior apparently, but that's a whole different blog). Now, first thing to set aside immediately before I continue is, I am not talking about Grammar, sentence structure, flow, etc. the sort of things that make your story readable and flow smoothly. Now to contrast writing, in the real world, real life, we live by a set of rules that a) we didn't make b) are forced to abide by, even though I don't recall agreeing to some of them, some I can live with. c) seem to hinder more than help. Now, in the realm of writing, it is the one F'n place where we have absolute control, the rules are ours, the concepts, laws, are ours. If I want my characters to have every power of a God, then so be it. (IN fact I Arch Angel Characters who are second to God in power. LOL) . But then, there are those who seek to restrict your creative freedom and tell you "How you are suppose to Write" or "Writing structure and conformity" again not to be confused with Proper Grammar, sentence structure., and flow For instance I got chided by someone on another forum for my 3rd Omnipresence POV, and of course this individual writes in 1st person. Personally, I can write in both but I find 1st person to be to restrictive, I tried writing in 3rd POV restricted and even that was a bit hard for me, though to be honest it did help create a pretty cute scene. in another example, someone edited the first scene of my book, but it began to turn into their style of writing and not my own, now some things I could agree with, like Dynamic descriptions, I can understand not boring your readers with endless descriptions. I just find it remarkable that some want you to conform to their style, their Methods of Operation, etc. instead of accepting, respecting and enjoying other people's ways of writing... Except for Factory Writing and Robot Characters, fuck that shit. I want to read stories about 4k old vamps with stake-sniper rifles and Super-Genetic Alien soldiers. and say Hell yeah. Why not. Also, Love your Characters, they are yours. Unless they are robotic in nature (not to be confused with actual robot characters like R2-D2 or Wall-E). and pretty interchangeable with other characters. ETA: Now that I think of it, this maybe an extension of the Factory Writing blog I wrote. LOL.
Well, here I am once more in the realm of stories outside of my comfort level. . It's a nice little challenge and provides some interesting practice at story telling in ways other than I am use to (Hence out of my comfort zone, I am good at repeating myself) . This story is based on a dream I had last night, thankfully I wrote it down in my Dream Journal, and more so I still remember most of the detail (Even if it's sort of hard for me to write). In an odd twist however, this was the first dream that continued even after I woke up. It was still playing, for a moment, giving me an image of the ending. I really didn't full understand the story till I wrote it today, it took me approx. 3 hours to write, I did some light editing, though I am sure it needs some serious editing, research, etc. So this is the story's more pure form before all the important home improvement. Well, I hope you enjoy it.... ___________________________________________________________________________ Ultraviolet Sunset (1,407 WC) Doctor Michael Drewstile has his arm raised, resting on the sliding glass door, leaned against it. He stares out at the dead world, as he tries to endure the almost blinding brightness. Light gust of wind spin around dust on the sun baked earth, which stretches far into the distances, the cracks curving into each other, almost resembling the tangled mess of a brain. The only thing visible is a nearby large green wall. Soon the sunlight became to much for the doctor as he looked away, he removed his glasses, and rubbed is eyes. Michael then put his glasses on as he over at look at a large, military style foot locker at the foot of his bed. “Must, Preserve,” said Michael weakly. The doctor went over to a bookshelf, grabbed some of the books off it and went to the steamer trunk to put them in it. Where there are already some books and a blanket with skeletal remains peeking out of it. He glanced at the remains with a sadden expression, then adjusted the blanket to cover the bones. Michael glanced at the nights stand by his bed, where along with a picture of him in his decorative Marine uniform, is also a photo of a woman along with a young girl. “I will be with you soon enough,” The Doctor’s attentions were soon drawn to sliding glass door as knocking came at it. He quickly closed the steamer trunk and turned to see his brother, Steven Drewstile, standing at the door. Michael went over and opened the door. “Steven,” said Michael. “I just came over to see how you were doing,” said Steven. Michael let out an amused chuckle of disbelief. “I guess I am doing as well as anyone could on a world that is doomed to be overcooked to a crisp by its own sun,” Steven turned to look at the sun, using his hand to shade his eyes as Michael came to stand next to him. “I wonder how much longer we have,” “There is no telling, Months, Weeks, days, heck even hours before it flares up for the final time,” said Michael. Steven looked at Michael. “Well, I hope Emily and Sarah are doing well, to think they were accepted into an arc,” Michael lightly laughed with a soft smile. “I hope so too,” “It is too bad you couldn’t go with them,” said Michael. “There was limited room, and who needs an old Marine like me,” said Michael. “You still have plenty to offer,” said Steven. Michael grunted. “Maybe,” Soon the two men’s attentions were drawn to the horizon as the sun began to shine brightly, emanating an intense heat. “We should get in,” said Steven. However, Michael was entranced by the sunset as he slowly walked towards the green wall. “Michael,” said Steven as he followed after his brother, the two walked passed the wall and looked out at the horizon. In the instance are the silhouette of trees which have withstood the heat so far and a dead cracked grassy plain. Soon the sun began to dim as it set, and in that moment produced a vibrate ultraviolet sky. Michael reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone and quickly took a picture of the sunset. “What the hell was the point of that,” asked Steven with an amused chuckle. Michael looked at the picture on his phone, then at Steven. “Must preserve,” “Preserve, for what. Once the Sun goes, there will be nothing more,” said Michael. “Must hold out hope, that their will be a future,” said Steven. Michael chuckled in amusement. “If you say so,” As the Sunset, the last of its light, disappearing behind the horizon, an extreme cold began to overtake the landscape. A snow storm began to stir along with loud howling of the wind. “We need to get inside,” said Steven. The two rushed back to their homes just in time to see the ground become frozen. Michael rubs his arms to produce heat as his breath is visible in the cold air. The doctor then went over to the footlocker, opened it and set his camera into it. “Maybe one day, someone will find this,” The Doctor then returned to the window and looked at the bitch black night. There was no signs of light nor life. “Just got to hold out,” said Michael. He then turned towards the bed and went to lay on it. ****** Michael’s eyes shot up as he let out a gasp, the sounds of his daughter Sarah’s crying ringing in his ears. He groaned as he climbed out of bed and glanced out the window to see the overly bright sun peaking over the horizon. Water drips from overhang and falls into collectors below. The doctor got up and after getting dressed and having his breakfast rations, retrieved some of the water from the collectors and brought them in before it could evaporate from the coming heat. Michael made himself a cup of tea and then went the sliding glass door and looked out as he sipped on the cold drink. He noticed in the distance there was a sandstorm with lightning and fire mixed into it. “The End,” said Michael. The doctor dropped his tea cup and slowly walked outside. “Is this it, Michael,” asked Steven as he joined his friend. The two walked beyond the wall and watched as the storm raged in the distance. The wind whipping their hair. However, they soon noticed figures emerge from storm, huge, horned creatures with charcoal like skin and engulfed in flames. The creatures walk towards the settlement. “This is it,” said Michael with a deep sigh. Soon Michael was forced to look away as a blinding white light engulfed them. He could soon hear what sounded like the beeping of an EKG monitor. “We are losing him,” “Come…” “10cc, adrenaline, stat,” “It’s time,” “Paddles, charge,” “Home… come,” “Clear,” Bzzzzzttt “Hold on Michael, fight it,” “Home… come… it’s time…” “Clear,” Bzzzztttt ****** The weather is cold with a light drizzle, a small crowd of people are gathered in a cemetery, before them is a coffin draped with old Glory, and next to it, is a large photo-portrait of Doctor Michael Drewstile dressed in his U.S. Marine uniform. The crowd cries in mourning as a preacher gives the last rites. Emily Drewstile holds her daughter, Sarah tightly, comforting the little girl, as she tries to contain her own emotions. “Doctor Michael Drewstile, Captain in the United States Marines, was a good man, dedicated to the health and wellbeing of others, even at the risk to his own safety. A decorated veteran, a celebrated neuro surgeon. The preservation of life was his true calling in life and what he worked towards every waking moment, when he was not spending time with his beloved wife and daughter. Doctor Michael Drewstile was a fighter, who fought valiantly till the end against the illness that eventually claimed his life. May he forever reside in the house of our lord, looking down upon the world he was so dedicated to,” Sarah began to cry heavily, burying her face in her mother’s dress as the coffin began to lower into the ground. Marines in the distance fired their rifles in a twenty-one-gun salute. Soon Emily coached her daughter away from the gravesite and as they began to walk away, they were joined by Michael’s brother, Steven along with his wife, Mary and their son, Thomas. Mary comforted her sister-in-law. “Ma’am,” said a young Marine as he approached the group, he holds the folded flag and on top of it is a decretive oak box, containing the casings from salute. “Here, I will hold it for Mrs. Drewstile, corporal,” said Steven as he took the flag and box from the Marine, who then saluted, then turned and walked away. “Come, my brother would want us to celebrate his life, and not mourn long for him,” said Steven sadly, he managed to force a sad smile. Emily managed a soft, sad smile as she glanced back at the cemetery plot. “I wonder if he was alone at the end,” “Of course not, I always told him, I would be there for him,” said Steven. He then managed to coach Emily on, her arm wrapped firmly around her daughter. Mary came to her sister-in-law’s side with her son next to her.
So in the realm of concept stories I am incapable of writing because, 1. They're not my genre 2. I have no clue how to write and keep up the the suspense, so instead I just going to write summaries for!! And this is the first one, titled the Gemini Slayer. Eta: I think the other part that makes it harder for me, is that these are actual real world locations. Instead of my created world, though I suppose, nah it would never work A killer is loose on the streets of Los Angeles, targeting identical twins siblings, having their way sexually with and then killing the younger of the siblings, man or woman doesn't make a difference to this killer. Now it will be up to Trish Minstrel, a Harden LAPD homicide detective with a Keen Eye and her team to locate and stop this mad killer before the FBI are called in to investigate.
Well, well... who know I would be returning to this subject so soon, so taking my own advice. I kept my dash camera on, and I caught two vehicles hug bumpers. With my self being one of those cars, clearly the rear care to catch it. WEll sort of... So, I was driving home, passing some cars who were going a little slower then I would like, so I careful and properly passed them. Very textbook stuff. Then I see how of my review mirror, that one of the people I passed is hot on my bumper. When I come to a stop, he came along side me on the right hand side. It's a to lane road one lane going each way, there is room for parking. so there is some room. He yelled at me "What was my Problem" and claiming I nearly hit him. Which was bull shit, the video showed a pretty text book passing. And I always check before going, chances are he got a little hotheaded and speed up. Anyways, so I go, he goes, he tries to get in front of me, and running out of room due to a parked vehicle, and pulled in front of me, and that is why My bumper kissed his. Damage to both vehicles was very minimal. We pulled to the side, where i called the cops. I didn't dare get out of my vehicle. Anyways, Cop shows up. I stayed calm and show him the video. He does his standard questioning then has me wait in my vehicle. And talk to the other guy, who I am guessing was agitated as the cop had to explain to him what he saw , etc. So then the cop asks if we want to exchange insurance, get INS involved. I personally did, Betty (my Yukon) did her job in keeping me safe and she's built like a tank. He didn't either, I had no interest in talking to do, nothing was to be achieved. He lost his temper and did a bit of road raging, and the Cop told me to be more careful in the future. So, that's it. I have it on Video, and lord knows how this could have turned out if I didn't. He could have been honest, he could have lied. But at the end of the day, The Video doesn't lie.
So as I spend more time on WF, I am starting to learn about a concept that was pretty foreign to me, a concept that i'm calling Factory Writing. I read an analogy on another forum that spurred this one. Also a certain thread sparked this as well. Anyways,, as I have mentioned about a million fucking times on this site, I do not have any formal writing, storytelling, what ever training. Rules for Writing is an oxymoron. Beyond basic grammar and sentence structure, most I learned through reading and adaptation of people's work I enjoyed to fit my own style. To me personally, writing is suppose to be freeform, it's why I do it, why I enjoy it. Writing is not a job to me, it's not even a hobby, it's something I do because it's what I do. Being a Pharmacy Technician is a job, and I like my job but I do that for a paycheck. I look on Amazon and a lot of the shit I see all looks the same to me, I've already learned that 5 star reviews are a very dubious thing. and I find 3 stars to be more accurate, with 2 and 4 being the extremes. 1 stars are shitkickers and 5 stars are asskissers. But you go to one author's profile, no one from this site, and all their book covers are the same with slight variation, the basic principle of their stories are the same. Now this isn't to say that my stories don't all have similarity or over arching theme. with War being a common thing, either used as a tool or avoided. But my stories do vary and follow different MCs some going through similar trials some going through different ones. My current WIP involves Kristol, who must learn to control her temper and impulsive nature, and becomes an accidental chosen one through a series of events, and a meddlesome catperson. and rises to become the leader of her people and prefect her recipe for rabbit stew. My back burner one, or my Magnus O pious as they say, is about a King who suffers from Schizophrenia ( a lit case of it) and him and those around him, learn how to managed it or at least keep himself. Thankfully he has a dog who saved him from killing himself. and according to an indvidual on a certain thread, Passion doesn't get you published. so I should be thankful, being published is not my goal... it's a bonus to me.