hehe!

I sure wish I was a wise old, glasses-wearing, pot-bellied, slightly-balding, writer-filled-with-sagacity.

Unfortunately, I'm rather new at it all myself, but I'd be glad to give you any tips I can! *ahem*
Now then.

1. Force yourself to write EVERY DAY. A lot of people just write in 'spurts' or when the mood hits them. Nonono, that is not a good thing to do. You'll never train yourself to be a better writer, that way. Write SOMETHING every day; be it a journal entry, poem, short story... a description of a person you saw at the grocery store. I recommend getting a special jouranal for this... it can be your writing journal. Scribble down EVERY story idea that ever comes into your head in this. You may use it later. Another interesting thing to do in this is record conversations. Recall a conversation with a friend, and record it word-for-word as best as you can. This helps you in writing dialogues later on.

2. Improve your vocabulary. Words are a fine art, just like painting or drawing. Learn to use them in a talented way, and you can delight thousands. However! would a dancer ever get anywhere if they only used the same move over and over again? Exactly. You NEED to extend your vocabulary... stick a dictionary in the bathroom or smoe other place where you can read it in free moments. Pick up words that are unique and cool-sounding, and memorize them and their definition. Som of my favorite words are- audacity, sagacity, and veracity. But I would have NEVER heard of these words had I not read the dictionary.

3. Every truely good story comes from out from the innermost depths of us. Write about things you understand and know, write your feelings into your story, your convictions, your life experience. You are going to find that one of your main characters had a lot in common with you - this is a good thing! As a beginning writer, don't attempt things you don't know about... stay on the things that are familiar to you. Put your heart into the story.

I may think of more later! I'll sure record them if I do.
I had an idea for a poem last night, here's the rough draft of the first stanze. What think ye?

I am sick of happy endings
Sappy true love and warm beginnings;
When all around me here I see
This world is not such a nice play to be.
So give me heartache! Give me sadness!
Give me realistic madness!
Keep those fairy tale "ever after's"
I scorn the sound of children's laughter.
Women who swoon at oppurtune moments
And men who are always there to catch.

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<center>
"The piano is able to communicate the subtlest universal truths by means of wood, metal and vibrating air."

Magnificent post FM and welcome back!
I have never thought of writing as an art... Well, I know it is an art.. let me re-word... I have never thought of the technique behind writing, even though I write a lot and love words. After reading your post a lot of things seem to make more sense and I can only agree with what you say.
I collect words on small pieces of papers, new words, cool words, words I like... *coughcough* Nice to hear others doing the same...

And finally... the poem is great.. It scares me and provokes me... and I want to har more!

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>>Be the change you wish to see in the world<<



Banner credit: Shadowcat & Nurrantiel Mashiara

I love the poem FM. I really like it. And I collect words that I like too... I have a word of the week that I try to use in daily conversations as much as I can... it's really amusing, actually. But I'm guilty of writing in spurts, though I try to write as often as possible...

I have a new story that I've been trying, though it's really out of my genre... I write thillers and horror stories, and this is the first time I've been trying to write fantasy, and it's a lot harder than I thought it would be... any advice from anyone?

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Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!

i cant think of any other tips, they're pretty much all there...

Yeah... I'm just considering dropping the whole fantasy story thing... but it's entertaing for the time being. I haven't shown it to anyone...

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Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!

Curran, your prologue is very good. I like the way you ended with that cliffhanger that made me want to read more. It also sounds like your world and plot are intricately developed, drawing the reader deeper into this world of yours.
The only thing I would recommend is starting off with a better hooker. I don't know about anyone else, but the way you started it off sounded too stereotypical of fantasy worlds - the little village tucked in against a cold winter.

FM, cute poem. It flows along smoothly and has excellent rhythm. Great pointers, by the way. I actually read the dictionary at times to discover novel words.

Tar-Argetlam, if you feel that fantasy really isn't your element, you should stay away from it until you better develope your writing style and you feel more comfortable with writing in general. For me, fantasy's my element and if I tried writing anything else I simply wouldn't enjoy it enough to go through.
But if you do want to endeavor fantasy, first I recommend you specify what kind of fantasy you want to write. Epic heroes? Fantasy-romance? Modern fantasy?
Second, I recommend you write from the heart. That's all fantasy is. A writer's playground, where he/she can let their thoughts and imagination all come pouring out. Everyone has a story stirring inside - fantasy lets you bring out your innermost beliefs in abstract, story format without regard for reality.

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Thanks for the tips everyone, there great thanks FM.

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New Account: Khaleesi

Here's a few tips I thought of!

Carry a little notebook or at least some paper and a pen with you anywhere you go. That way, if you get a brilliant new plot idea, or the perfect name for a character while you're shopping, you can write it down and not worry about forgetting it.

Write down any ideas you have, even if they seem ridiculous at the time. You never know what you might be able to write from those ideas later!

That tired my brain out, thinking of those tips. lol

I'm back, it might be said. Now, those are some good tips Elenya, though a good idea sometimes comes at a horrible moment.

Thanks for the pointers, dear. I'll just stick to thriller for the time being I think.

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Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!

^ah, I was hoping to read some of your fantasy works but thrillers sounds excellent as well. be sure to post your first chapter once you have it

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Could I join this club?

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Hi, Turwaithiel!

Gah...I've had writer's block for the past week. I want to write and I know what to write about but I just can get it out.

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Heh. I actually changed my sig. Wow.

"I'll tell you truly: I value my thought and work terribly, but in essence - think about it - this whole world of ours is just a bit of mildew that grew over a tiny planet. And we think we can have something great - thoughts, deeds! They're all grains of sand." - Levin

Ha, will do, I normally write short stories, right now I'm writing this little Twilight Zone thing for a writers convention, it's not great, but I'll post the beginning...





I suppose you could say the man was experiencing both a case of déjà vu and amnesia. He was standing on a main stretch of road out in the middle of nowhere, or at least, he assumed it was the middle of nowhere since the road was dirt. The road stretched on forever, with nothing but dust and cacti as far as the eye could see. Something told the man he was in Arizona, though he had no recollection of how he got there, because he knew he lived in Maine, though he had no rembrance of anything before standing on this road.

Dimly, he realized that there was something about that, but this did not bother him. What did bother him, however, was the feeling he had been here before. He had been here many, many times before. But he couldn't remember that either, not really.

She's late, he thought to himself, though he had no idea who 'she' was. It struck him suddenly how dark it had gotten so quickly. He would have sworn it was midday when he 'came to rembrance,' but now it was dark and stormy.

Cliché, but a nice touch, he said to himself. He was distracted from these confusing thoughts by the glare of headlights approaching in the distance. Automatically, not even registering he was moving, he raised his hand. The car slowed, as he knew it would.

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Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you!

Very nice, a little frightening, but nice!

Here's the first chapter of my book:

Rain pattered on the windows of the old and creaky house, waking a black-haired boy from a deep sleep. He wasn’t exactly a boy anymore, but he was definitely not yet a man, either. Pale green eyes peered out of the darkened window from the bed. Surely it wasn’t morning, it was still dark out. But then, internal clocks don’t lie, and Eli was wide awake.

Eli groaned and slung his legs out from under the covers, forcing himself to get up. Storm or no storm, Eli understood that his Aunt Recah would still expect both Eli and his cousin, Will, to do their chores. With yet another groan he pulled himself completely out of the bed and dressed.

Still rubbing sleepy eyes, Eli stumbled into the kitchen where his aunt was busying herself with breakfast. The breakfast was composed of leftover biscuits from the day before, some fruits, and a jar of homemade jelly. Grinning in spite of himself, he sat down across from Will, who was hanging his head over the table muttering about sleep.

Recah put a full plate in front of her son, and then her nephew, “Eat up boys, I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day,” she said.

Eli wanted to interrogate Recah about why, but his stomach was complaining he was hungry. Shrugging off Recah’s warning, he tucked into his biscuits and fruit. Before his plate was half gone he had forgotten her words completely.

“Eli, you planning on breathing or just stuffing your face?” Will asked in his usual surly morning voice.

Choking down a chunk of biscuit, Eli opened his mouth with a retort, “I wasn’t planning on it, actually. But now that you point it out, I might.”

“You two stop it,” said a frail looking older man hobbling in on a twisted cane. Gazing at the two youths before him, a slight twinkle appeared in his eyes. “Sometimes I swear that you’ll both make me old before my time.”

Eli bit back the comment that he was already old that seemed to be bubbling up within him, substituting for, “I’m sorry, Uncle Zerah.”

“Sorry, father,” Will muttered quietly.

Eli leaned his chair back on two legs, and then noisily took a rather large bite of an apple. Now that his morning streak of grogginess was over, his usual happy temperament was shining through. Looking this way and that with an enthusiasm that only Eli could have at this particular early hour, he smiled.

“So what exactly is it that Aunt Recah has in mind that will make today long?” Eli asked, taking another bite of his apple.

The elder man took his time replying to his ever impatient nephew, “Who knows what Recah has planned for you boys; I certainly don’t have a clue. I simply hope she doesn’t get me to do anything and you boys keep her happy. Nothing worse than being stuck in a house with an angry woman indefinitely due to weather.”

Both boys chuckled; Zerah had a gift for poking fun and being serious at the same time. Eli finished off his apple with minimal noise, and Will eventually cleared his plate. Zerah didn’t really eat much, but the old man never did anything so he didn’t work up quite as much hunger as the two young men.

Before long, neither Eli nor Will could find any excuse to sit at the table any longer, and sought out Recah to determine the torture she had planned. When Recah saw their reluctant faces, it was all she could do not to laugh. She supposed she had herself a reputation for doling out the chores. Smile in place, she instructed her son and nephew on their jobs for the day.

“Will, I would you take care of moving everything in the attic room down? I think that there’s a leak and I don’t want my things ruined. Then go about putting dishes under the leaks if there are any, would you?” she said happily.

Will nodded and dashed up the attic room. It could be worse, couldn’t it? Recah watched him trot out of sight then turned to Eli with the same smile.

As soon as Recah started her sentences, he knew that he wasn‘t going to like his job to much.

“Eli, I know that you’re not going to like this, but I need you to go out to the barn and see to the animals. Just because it’s raining doesn’t mean that they don’t eat.”

Relief washed over Eli’s face, this wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. He smiled at his aunt and left to go pull on some boots and a coat. It took a minute of tugging to get the almost too-small boots on, and then he stuffed his arms into his oversized jacket. The final touch Eli needed to brave the rain was a knitted cap that fit snugly around his head. He headed out the door.

Trudging through the thick mud that had appeared overnight, Eli shivered as the icy droplets of water pricked at his skin like little knives. It wasn’t the mud and rain that bothered him; it was the overall coldness of it all. It was absolutely freezing. He felt like he was trapped under layers of snow and the snow was melting to cause all of this ice cold rain and mud.

Once in the safety of the barn, Eli relaxed for the moment. The wind was blocked out and the rain pelted on the old thatch roof, but didn’t pelt Eli’s head. And it was warm; the biting cold had almost no effect here in the straw filled barn.

Eli picked up various buckets and filled them with various feeds, as there were many types of animals in the barn. It took him a while, but he finally got the chore done. Before going back to the house, he stole a minute with Shadow, the young colt who had been born in the very barn he was in three years ago. The family had just recently been able to tone Shadow’s wild behavior down enough to ride him.

“Hey, boy,” said Eli rubbing the horse’s soft nose gently. “How are ya?”

Shadow merely stared at Eli a moment as if to say, ‘Why are you interrupting dinner?’ then returned to eating.

“Guess you’re not in a mood to be bothered, huh?” Eli muttered.

Judging by the sounds of munching Eli got in reply, Shadow wasn’t paying any attention to Eli. With a shake of his head, Eli prepared himself to trudge back through the mud and the pelting ice cold rain.

Just as he entered the old farmhouse, Eli was sure he saw a man in a dark as midnight cloak standing by the barn.

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<center>“Envy consists in seeing things never in themselves, but only in their relations. If you desire glory, you may envy Napoleon, but Napoleon envied Caesar, Caesar envied Alexander, and Alexander, I daresay, envied Hercules, who never existed.”
at one point, I was alejandrah.