Writers?

Are there any writers here? Im not a huge writer but I love it when I get a really good story going that even I don't know whats going to happen next and it all jsut comes together in the end. Im writing one right now about, well im not really sure what its about, its about some guys who crashed a small black van so far, and it was filled with bags full of money. Its coming together pretty well!

I write freelance journalism for local publications and am an intern for VANTAGE magazine (local).
Tried my hand at fictional literature, but it was somewhat uncomfortable for me because I'm used to news media.

I write a bit of poetry and am starting to write my own music...so lets see how that goes.

Just submitted an editorial on the newly approved NFL football stadium being built in Orange County...will post a link to the online version once it's up (VANTAGE).

Trying right now to get ahold of Jonathan Quick (LA Kings player) to interview him about his preparation for the winter Olympics...but am having trouble getting through the beurocracy. People are crazy defensive of him. I got in contact with his manager but was practically told to f*ck off after requesting contact with Quick. So oh well...

Thats really cool, I only write things about WWII or other shoot out scenarios.

I love writing, Back in 6th grade I went to a state poetry contest, and won the dark/depressing poem catigory and made 8th out of 300 people there ranging from 5th graders to seniors in high scool. then i lost the will one day.

I also try to write war time books, but after about 30 to 50 pages of typing I loose interst go eat and find somthing else to do

lonesniper24 wrote:

I love writing, Back in 6th grade I went to a state poetry contest, and won the dark/depressing poem catigory and made 8th out of 300 people there ranging from 5th graders to seniors in high scool. then i lost the will one day.

I also try to write war time books, but after about 30 to 50 pages of typing I loose interst go eat and find somthing else to do

Teen angst much?
hahha

I wish I could write 30-50 pages before getting bored, I always get bored quickly and have to work on them over time, but im also using Microsoft Office Word and the pages are huge.

I've had good days, and good writing assignments from my teacher. The latest one was a short story about these two guys who met for a cup of coffee in a New York coffee shop. One guy has to take a phone call and starts walking down the street as he's on the phone. As he's walking back he gets attacked by a mugger and then the ending is really crappy but it wasn't supposed to be past a certain length. I'd like to start a writing project soon

alexkmmll wrote:

I wish I could write 30-50 pages before getting bored, I always get bored quickly and have to work on them over time, but im also using Microsoft Office Word and the pages are huge.

it's not hard, i just get side tract easily, and i love to eat, since i can only eat im my kitchen i never get back to the story, thus for never finishing the last half, or 3/4th of the story.

lonesniper24 wrote:

alexkmmll wrote:

I wish I could write 30-50 pages before getting bored, I always get bored quickly and have to work on them over time, but im also using Microsoft Office Word and the pages are huge.

it's not hard, i just get side tract easily, and i love to eat, since i can only eat im my kitchen i never get back to the story, thus for never finishing the last half, or 3/4th of the story.

^^^
Sider tracked (not tract)

Thats why I hate fiction/historical-fiction...writer's block. The idea of coming up with something like that off the top of my head is sickening. I prefer the facts

naw i don't get writers block, i just quit it still keeps coming to my head after i quit, i just don't keep writing

I like writing realistic fiction. Nothing "historical", absolutely NO SCI-FI. Just something that could actually happen in the present future. Though the way I write it, it's not always realistic... but it's close enough

I'm writing a short sci-fi book now when i have the time and feel like working on it. It's a basic aliens invade Earth deal but with leanings towards Yuuzhan Vong race from Star Wars. And once i start up again i'm going to do something like another human race that's highly advanced and comes to Earths aid since they are at war with the aliens. I think last i worked on it i had 3 or 4 short chapters done.

Funny thing though is i never liked to write before i started college, now it's a fun thing to do when i have the time.

I just started writing about 25 minutes ago. I only have about half a page of size 10, but it's pretty good in my opinion

I used to write. A lot. Back in 6th Grade I filled a 2" binder with WWI-themed poems. Then, back in 7th Grade, I wrote what I could best describe as Heart of Darkness-style. My writing tends to be heavily influenced by Joseph Conrad, T.S. Elliot, and Richard Matheson.

I write or fictional stories (dragons, elves, dwarves, 4000 BC in middle earth...etc) or my personal favorites survival stories in our modern time.

Usually I'll start any story off with a short version One city, one building, one brick. Before I move on creating the next chapter or sequels to see if I can even use the structure of my main character<s> in a actual storyline.

I do. Started with an atrocious Halo fanfiction story, then moved on to writing stuff along the lines of modern warfare. Yes, if you didn't guess, they are HEAVILY influenced by the games (COD4 and MW2). Also some in influence from Band of Brothers, Black Hawk Down, etc. I really want to start a WWII story, but it'll have to wait.

I have my huge one up here... I'll link that thing up, looking at it makes me want to barf tho, looks terrible

This is what Ive started for a kind of get away story. hope you guys like it. I only started it, in believe it or not, French class, and ive worked on it for maybe 30 minutes. By the way, I used the word helicopter too much in the last paragraph, but trying to type and chat on facebook doesnt really work.

It was a dark, yet humid night. The lights from the stores and apartments glistened on the pavement still covered with the rainfall from before. Lonely business men and tourists shuffled along the sidewalks and out of the heat. Just then a small van squealed around the corner, picking up speed as it shot down the slick road. Just as a flashing police car came around the same corner the van lost its grip. It squealed and swerved, the driver fighting the vans pull. The small black van corrined onto the sidewalk and smashed into a pair of trashcans. It made its way back onto the slippery pavement only to roll into a coffee shop on the other side. The doors of the now burning van flew open and out jumped tow men, one with an M4 assault rifle, the other with a ripped bag, filled only with banknotes. They both took off along the damp sidewalk and turned into a dark alleyway. But there was more then two in the small van, there was a third. Unseen in the rubble and flames, a skinny man, maybe 6’5”, made his way through the smoke and out a back door.
The police car pulled up to the curb, and a small, round man stepped out of the passenger side of the shinny, white vehicle. He and another officer quickly examined the burning van, roping off the area. Inside the small burning van was bags, cloth bags, and many of them.
A dog barked, woken by the rattle of a chain fence. The man puffed as he hit the hard ground. He made his way across what appeared to be a small construction site, and behind a stack of pipes. He was examining his burnt arm when he heard a sound in the distance. The voice yelled out, “Susan!” He quickly answered, “Mary!” Two men ran up to the pile, and took cover as the sound of chopper blades and blinding lights penetrated the darkness. They were obviously being looked for, and it wouldn’t be long before they would be found.
“Lets move to a new spot, I don’t feel safe here.”
“Yeah, me too boss, lets go.”
“No, no. We’ll wait here for just a little longer, or at least for the choppers to pass.”
The roar of the blades filled the open cockpit of the Bell helicopter. It banked sharply to the right, circling the burning building now being doused with jets of water. The spotlights hanging from the sides of the helicopter illuminated the night, searching the empty streets and bare yards. The helicopter banked once again, staying over the roads, keeping the lights fixed on the few out and about. After a while of watching the roads, the radios crackled in the headsets of the pilots, and the helicopter began to turn. The search was over, for now.

I, believe it or not, have started righting poetry due to a class project, mostly Lyric though.
Here are 3 that I recently Wrote... (All are Lyric)
The Clown
Honk, Honk

Goes a clown’s bright nose.

Squish, Squash

Goes the clown’s bright shoes.

Squirt, Squirt

Goes the clown’s prank flower.

Clink, Clank

Goes the clown’s sharp knife.

Hee, Hee

Goes the clown’s demonic laugh.

Aaah!

Goes my raspy voice.

Squeek, Squeek

Goes my bed springs as I wake up sweating.

The Harvest-Man (Dispelling a myth?)
The most poisonous spider in the world!

But never a bite on a human found?

“Its mouth is too small,” some say.

Others completely disagree.

The long legs,

The rounded body,

The “fangs” that posses venom that could kill a cow!


But this is not a spider,

Nor is it poisonous.

Yes, eight legs it possesses,

But a split abdomen?

It has no such feature.

How is it then,

If it is so dangerous,

That it crawls in my hand with no ill affect?

Airsoft Exhilaration (Wrote this after a game of pistols with my friend at a local hiking trail,yes it was fine, we didn't get caught.)

At the moment of realization I frowned,

And then the sweat dropped from my brow.


I dropped to the ground;

My body felt like it had made a groan,

For I was being chased by a *"hound."


My hand moved to my side,

My mind heard a “moan”

As if my gun had cried!


The shot had to be superb,

One is all it took,

There could be no *flub.


Stress ate at my mind,

My hand had shook,

But I would soon find,

It would all come out fine.




As I lay in the brush,

All brittle and dry,

I planned my ambush.


I took the shot,

My revolver gave a cry,

It seemed as though my gun smoked hot.


There he fell on the ground,

With a thud.

He moaned and he frowned.


I had shot his neck,

Which was filled with dried and muddy “crud,”

And left a bloody speck!


Roughly bead sized,

All polished and sheen,

The white pellet had been his demise.


But the *“hound” had not died,

I am not that mean,

The gun could not hurt a fly!


Sometimes I forget it's a game,

And I can't seem to learn to tame

The adrenal flame!

@alex
not bad, man, not bad at all. It has a very nice hook

alexkmmll wrote:

This is what Ive started for a kind of get away story. hope you guys like it. I only started it, in believe it or not, French class, and ive worked on it for maybe 30 minutes. By the way, I used the word helicopter too much in the last paragraph, but trying to type and chat on facebook doesnt really work.

It was a dark, yet humid night. The lights from the stores and apartments glistened on the pavement still covered with the rainfall from before. Lonely business men and tourists shuffled along the sidewalks and out of the heat. Just then a small van squealed around the corner, picking up speed as it shot down the slick road. Just as a flashing police car came around the same corner the van lost its grip. It squealed and swerved, the driver fighting the vans pull. The small black van corrined onto the sidewalk and smashed into a pair of trashcans. It made its way back onto the slippery pavement only to roll into a coffee shop on the other side. The doors of the now burning van flew open and out jumped tow men, one with an M4 assault rifle, the other with a ripped bag, filled only with banknotes. They both took off along the damp sidewalk and turned into a dark alleyway. But there was more then two in the small van, there was a third. Unseen in the rubble and flames, a skinny man, maybe 6’5”, made his way through the smoke and out a back door.
The police car pulled up to the curb, and a small, round man stepped out of the passenger side of the shinny, white vehicle. He and another officer quickly examined the burning van, roping off the area. Inside the small burning van was bags, cloth bags, and many of them.
A dog barked, woken by the rattle of a chain fence. The man puffed as he hit the hard ground. He made his way across what appeared to be a small construction site, and behind a stack of pipes. He was examining his burnt arm when he heard a sound in the distance. The voice yelled out, “Susan!” He quickly answered, “Mary!” Two men ran up to the pile, and took cover as the sound of chopper blades and blinding lights penetrated the darkness. They were obviously being looked for, and it wouldn’t be long before they would be found.
“Lets move to a new spot, I don’t feel safe here.”
“Yeah, me too boss, lets go.”
“No, no. We’ll wait here for just a little longer, or at least for the choppers to pass.”
The roar of the blades filled the open cockpit of the Bell helicopter. It banked sharply to the right, circling the burning building now being doused with jets of water. The spotlights hanging from the sides of the helicopter illuminated the night, searching the empty streets and bare yards. The helicopter banked once again, staying over the roads, keeping the lights fixed on the few out and about. After a while of watching the roads, the radios crackled in the headsets of the pilots, and the helicopter began to turn. The search was over, for now.

Great job, but may I suggest something? Use more descriptive language...throw in some similies and such to better help the reader experience the situation.

This sentence:
"The roar of the blades filled the open cockpit of the Bell helicopter."

Could be something like this:
"The rotor blades, slicing through the smoky air to the cadence of my heart, filled the exposed cockpit of the helo."

Say something that will make me say "Woah, that was deep"

Okay, guys, here's a paper I found from last year. I was supposed to write from the point of view of a Union reporter at the battle of Antietam. The two different fonts are meant to show different tones.

Confederate Invasion Repulsed at Antietam!

The cost of life always seems to be getting cheaper. It often seems that more and more children go off to war, dreaming of glamour, marching bands, and clean uniforms, but come home with broken dreams, crushed limbs, and the thousand-yard stare characteristic of combat fatigue. These are just boys that go off to combat! Why must humanity be so inhumane? Are we not brothers of the same species? The horror! The horror!

The death of combatants from both factions has been like nothing before seen in neither Confederate nor American history, and will most likely never be rivaled. Each side lost a division (10,000 soldiers), including Killed In Action, Missing In Action, or wounded. The engagement began at dawn and lasted into the late afternoon. Generals Reno, Franklin, Sumner, Burnside, and Couch fought under Union Major General George McClellan, and Generals Jackson, Longstreet, D.H. Hill, Walker, and McLaws fought under Confederate General Robert E. Lee’s command.
The cries of the wounded still lying on the battlefield are inescapable, and they can still be heard a mile away from the battlefield.
George McClellan had about 87,000 men at his disposal, while Robert E. Lee had only 45,000 soldiers to put on the battlefield. McClellan’s victory was only obtainable due to the number of reinforcements he had at the time. Southern Intelligence must have greatly underestimated Union defenses and unit strength, based on the small number of Confederate forces used in the attack on Maryland.
The Union should take aggressive action while Johnny Reb is still retreating with his tail between his legs. Antietam could be a great breakthrough for the Union. Our country might be able to chase good old Lee all the way to Richmond’s doorstep, if Washington plays their cards right. Even after the tremendous loss of life, the battle resulted in a tactical draw, but a strategic victory for the Union. This important victory gives Honest Abe a chance to issue the Emancipation Proclamation. The victory will have rallied support for the bill and raised morale in the Northern states. These actions will keep some of the complaints down from Union slave owners who think all slaves should remain just that.
Union morale will be high due to our successful repulse of a Southern invasion into our territory, and Confederate morale will be at an all-time low. If the Union had more Confederate operations like these to crush, we would win the war a lot faster, most likely by either the Confederates running out of men to fight, or by their unconditional surrender. “Our boys have given them quite a lickin’, and we sure as thunder are not going to lose this war.” Said Staff Sergeant Chuck Norris, 29th Massachusetts.
We must remember, however, the tremendous cost of human life this battle cost us and our opponents in the South. Please take a minute from reading this to pray for the dead and the wounded. Even though the Southerners may not be fighting on the right side, we must still pray for their people. After all, weren’t they our country men not so long ago?

Jarhead999 76 65 wrote:

Okay, guys, here's a paper I found from last year. I was supposed to write from the point of view of a Union reporter at the battle of Antietam. The two different fonts are meant to show different tones.

Confederate Invasion Repulsed at Antietam!

The cost of life always seems to be getting cheaper. It often seems that more and more children go off to war, dreaming of glamour, marching bands, and clean uniforms, but come home with broken dreams, crushed limbs, and the thousand-yard stare characteristic of combat fatigue. These are just boys that go off to combat! Why must humanity be so inhumane? Are we not brothers of the same species? The horror! The horror!

The death of combatants from both factions has been like nothing before seen in neither Confederate nor American history, and will most likely never be rivaled. Each side lost a division (10,000 soldiers), including Killed In Action, Missing In Action, or wounded. The engagement began at dawn and lasted into the late afternoon. Generals Reno, Franklin, Sumner, Burnside, and Couch fought under Union Major General George McClellan, and Generals Jackson, Longstreet, D.H. Hill, Walker, and McLaws fought under Confederate General Robert E. Lee’s command.
The cries of the wounded still lying on the battlefield are inescapable, and they can still be heard a mile away from the battlefield.
George McClellan had about 87,000 men at his disposal, while Robert E. Lee had only 45,000 soldiers to put on the battlefield. McClellan’s victory was only obtainable due to the number of reinforcements he had at the time. Southern Intelligence must have greatly underestimated Union defenses and unit strength, based on the small number of Confederate forces used in the attack on Maryland.
The Union should take aggressive action while Johnny Reb is still retreating with his tail between his legs. Antietam could be a great breakthrough for the Union. Our country might be able to chase good old Lee all the way to Richmond’s doorstep, if Washington plays their cards right. Even after the tremendous loss of life, the battle resulted in a tactical draw, but a strategic victory for the Union. This important victory gives Honest Abe a chance to issue the Emancipation Proclamation. The victory will have rallied support for the bill and raised morale in the Northern states. These actions will keep some of the complaints down from Union slave owners who think all slaves should remain just that.
Union morale will be high due to our successful repulse of a Southern invasion into our territory, and Confederate morale will be at an all-time low. If the Union had more Confederate operations like these to crush, we would win the war a lot faster, most likely by either the Confederates running out of men to fight, or by their unconditional surrender. “Our boys have given them quite a lickin’, and we sure as thunder are not going to lose this war.” Said Staff Sergeant Chuck Norris, 29th Massachusetts.
We must remember, however, the tremendous cost of human life this battle cost us and our opponents in the South. Please take a minute from reading this to pray for the dead and the wounded. Even though the Southerners may not be fighting on the right side, we must still pray for their people. After all, weren’t they our country men not so long ago?

Very well done. Thats a really interesting assignment.