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Writing class!!
Chatterbox: Inkwell
Writing class!!
Writing class!!
I wanted to make a writing class for the new writers and the old. All you have to do is write your name. I will make a list and once a week I will post a new thing for you to work on. I can do it sooner too. But anyway if you join you need to write your stories on this thread. I will post the first challenge now.
Lesson 1: Pick one of the starting sentences below and write a short story starting with it.
1: The ghost was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
2: I have one brown eye and one green eye. The brown eye sees truth, but the green eye sees much more.
3: "Be nice," my father said. "After all he is your brother."
4: I am the most famous 12-year-old in the United States.
5: If somebody didn't do somthing soon there was going to be a catastrophe.
6: Ms. Fleming's wing had gone missing.
Good luck. I am going to post too.
submitted by Hello
(November 3, 2015 - 9:42 pm)
(November 3, 2015 - 9:42 pm)
Awesome story! I'm going to make an attempt at a poem.
Blue
Blue waves roll,
and crash upon a sandy shore,
sending up a spray of white foam
Children laugh,
A beautiful sound,
Adults watch from the beach.
The brilliant blue sky,
Amazing up above,
With clouds and sparkling sunshine,
On hot summer days.
The splatter of blue paint,
In the middle of my painting,
unites the colors,
making the picture complete,
And making me smile.
(November 4, 2015 - 10:05 pm)
Black~
Yea, black, the color of coal.
Of eyes of the dead and devil's own soul.
Yea, black, the color of night.
Of the feathers of crow and the cold lack of light.
Yea, black, the color of sin.
Of terror and evil that lies hidden within.
Without light, there is darkness.
Without light, there is black.
Without light, there's no color.
Without light, we just see a lack.
Yea, black, the color of death.
~~~~~~
I'm not the best at poety, but I decided to give poor ol' black a poem. :D
(November 5, 2015 - 1:38 am)
I hope I'm not to late! I really want to join.
Yellow
A sunflower's petal
Plucked by chubby fingers from its home
Tossed into the air
Swirling
Bright
Yellow
Flying!
Past the lighted sun
So free
A spot of lovely cheer
Against blue.
(November 5, 2015 - 12:07 am)
Red
The sky was red
when he took her from her family.
She is but three monsoons old,
so her memories of this day
will be faint,
but tinged in sunset
red.
She does not know why she remembers it.
Her clothes are red
when she goes to meet her Master.
She is but fourteen years old,
so the first battle will traumatize her
more than most,
but at least the skirt will not show stains of
red.
She does not know why she chose it.
Her ship is red
when she flees for her life.
She is but seventeen years old,
far too young to be committing
grand theft starship,
but it is this or leave the ground muddied, sickening,
red.
She does not know where she is going.
The city is red
when she leads her people's last stand.
She is but thirty-one years old,
trained for only thirteen of them
and therefore unqualified to defend so many beings,
but she does it, though the flames and blood are
red.
She does not know what will become of Shili now.
His saber is red
when she meets him for the last time.
She is but thirty-nine years old;
she cannot help wondering
what the galaxy would be like,
if the blade between her ribs were blue instead of
red.
She did not know what dying was like before.
(November 5, 2015 - 3:53 pm)
@Curio, that's really good! I really like it! The last few lines gave me the shivers...
(November 6, 2015 - 8:25 pm)
@Abigail: Thanks!! This pertains to a colossal headcanon of mine, so I apologize if the plot (such as it is) is somewhat disjointed and unrecognizable. All you Star Wars fans out there, can you guess who "she" is?
Koda says miwz. I think Koda is cosplaying a cat.
(November 8, 2015 - 5:34 pm)
Ms. Fleming's wing had gone missing. We discovered it had gone when we walked into her house one morning to say hello. Ms. Flemings was our next door neighbor, but me and Abby were the only ones who knew her secret. She's a fairy. Her house is full of magical things. When you walk through the door, the first thing you notice is the sweet tangy smell of magic. Her broom is always sweeping the floor of its own accord. Her fire burns continually, and occasionally lets out odd little puffs of blue smoke. Her pet frog, Kip, is about as big as a kitten, and when nobody's around I suspect that he can fly. That morning, when we walked in, Ms. Flemings was bustling about the kitchen. Her teapot was whistling a merry toon, and attempting to pour cups of tea onto our heads. But despite the cheery atmosphere, I sensed that something was very wrong. Ms. Flemings only had 'one' wing. Abby and I both rushed forwards. "Ms. Flemings, what happened to your wing?" Abby cries. Ms. Flemings turns around. "Ah, girls, it's good to see you. As you can see, I have had a most unfortunate accident. You see, I was having a short fly around the neighborhood, and I stopped to talk to Mrs. Gladiolus." (Ms. Gladiolus is another fairy in our neighborhood.) "Well, then I decided that it was a nice day for a walk, and by the time I reached the house, my wing was gone! I've looked everywhere, but with no luck." She sighs. Then, I have an idea. "How about we find your wing, Ms. Flemings?" She smiles appreciatively, and the I know that search is on. An hour later after searching everywhere we can think of, we are passing the park, tired and hungry. I suggest that we sit down under a giant oak. The sunlight shine through the chinks in the branches. Suddenly, I hear a rustling up ahead. I look up, and see Ms. Flemming's wing, fluttering in the branches. I stand on the bench and grab the wing. Then me and Abby head back towards Ms. Fleming's house, with the setting sun behind our backs.
(November 5, 2015 - 11:15 am)
This sounds fun! I'll join, but I can't post now. =)
(November 5, 2015 - 1:35 pm)
Hey can I join? This looks like fun!
(November 5, 2015 - 5:16 pm)
"Be nice," my father said. "After all, he is your brother."
But I knew better than that. My parents were so blind- couldn't they see the green flashes of light coming from underneath my brother's door? Didn't they hear the crackling noises, the screeches, and the creeks? Did they ever wonder about what Nathaniel actually did in his bedroom?
Nathaniel was not my brother. He was a college student from Holland coming over to stay in our family so he could live in the United States. My parents had done all the paperwork, and they had promised me that he would be gone in two months. But Nathaniel seemed to like it here, and it had been going on three months. All Nathaniel seemed to do was hole himself up in his room, only coming out for meals. I rarely ever saw him outside.
But, I had made it my duty to find out what he did in there. I, Kent Brian Obadian, was going to investigate Nathaniel and discover his secrets.
One early December morning, when pale grey frost covered the ground, I crept downstairs and out the swinging kitchen door. All of my family's bedroom windows faced towards the backyard, including Nathaniel's. As usual, the blinds and curtains on his were drawn. But that could have been because he was sleeping.
I had forgotten to put gloves on, and as a result, my fingers were turning blue. My breath fogged in the air, and froze into tiny crystals on Nathaniel's glass window. Fumbling with the catch with my half- numb fingers, I opened the window with a squeak. I guess Nathaniel had forgotten to lock it. Sliding in through the window proved to be harder than I had anticipated, especially with my winter coat on. But somehow, I managed it, and brushed aside the curtains cautiously.
Nathaniel was nowhere to be seen.
His room was cluttered- that much I had expected. But lying on his desk were very strange pieces of equipment. One was a large mason jar full of fireflies- except they couldn't be fireflies. Their wings were too large, and they glowed bright blue.
"Do you like my experiment?" I whirled around, and was face to face with Nathaniel. He was fully dressed, and in the dim half-light, he look menacing.
"Wha-What is it?" I ask. I am still recovering from the shock of him sneaking up on me.
"These here-" he pointed at the flying blue insects "-are Mythwings. They each contain a small amount of extraordinary power. The power to rule the galaxy. The power to enter other dimensions. I am extracting this amazing force, and I shall use it to create a wormhole. But the power is also extremely dangerous. One mistake with it, and everything within a five mile radius will be disintegrated."
"You're doing this- in my house?!" My voice rose to an extremely high pitch. "After all my parents have done for you?!"
"It was necessary- for many reasons you wouldn't understand." He gave a tight, quick smile. "But soon it shall be ready- in fact, right now."
I was rooted to the spot, and I watched as Nathaniel picked one of the bugs out of the mason jar and squeezed its juice into a strange instrument that looked like a wonky, two- pronged trident. The equipment instantly began to glow. Green fibers of light swirled in a pattern that made me feel sick.
"Are you ready to travel to another dimension?" Nathaniel said, barely able to keep the excitement out of his voice.
"What, me?! I have no part in this messed up experiment."
"Unfortunately, you do. I can't have you blabbing to your parents about my scientific discoveries." He suddenly grabbed my wrist. "Here we go!!!!"
"Noooooo! Wait! Stop! Leggo my arm! MOOOOOM!!!!! DAAAAD!!!!!!!" It was too late. I was dragged into nothingness.
The moral of the story: Never go poking your nose into your siblings' secret projects.
I know, this story is seriously messed up. But I don't care.
(November 5, 2015 - 5:29 pm)
That was really good, I liked the detail.
(November 6, 2015 - 1:57 am)
Grey
We fear what we do not understand
We fear the grey of the wild lands
We do not know what is beyound,
We fear of twlight and what it brings,
We fear the grey bird and the death it sings.
The grey bird's song of death is a warning,
To all who dare to the great beyond;
"Turn back, turn back, nothing but death awaits you here."
Yet to those who dare,
A paradise awaits them there,
And they will die a frozen death,
But they have tasted paradise.
Eh, not my best, but l'm in a hurry now.
(November 5, 2015 - 5:52 pm)
I had one brown eye and one green eye. The brown eye saw truth, but the green eye saw so much more... The green eye could see feelings. It could see straight into people's hearts, and recognize their deepest fears and desires. But one thing: it wasn't something that I could turn off. Whether I wanted too or not, I could see thier hearts. Not literally. Ew. But just all thier feelings and hopes and dreams. I get teased about my eyes a school, but I doesn't bother me. They call em names and stuff, but I don't care. I know from my green eye that they're not teasing out of spite, but becuase they feel insecure about themselves. They make fun of me to make themselves feel better. Whatever. My big sister appreciated my gift. She was the only one who knew about it too. She said that someday, it would become useful. I disagreed. This is how our conversations usually went:
Me: Hey Sara! Ugh, I had an awful day at school today, how about you?
Sara: Were they teasing you about your eyes?
Me: Yeah, why?
Sara: Dove, I know you think your gift is useless, but someday it could save the world.
Me: Oh not this again *inches toward door*
Sara: *launches into big lecture about boring stuff*
Me: Look, I'm not one of those "saving the world" types. You only find those in fantasy books.
Sara: *getting frustrated* Dove, trust me. One day, you will use that to do something great, something... I can't tell you anymore. Just trust me.
This would happen every day. At least, it used to.
Sara disappeared last week without a trace. Tonight, I was going to sneak out and look for her. Maybe my gift would come in handy in looking for her..........
(November 5, 2015 - 6:10 pm)
Thanks for joining everyone. Anybody else who wants can join. So far the poeple who have joined and posted are:
1 Rosebud
2 Katydid
3 Shadow Dragon
4 Shadowdancer
5 Scylla
6 Dragonrider
7 Abigail S.
8 Curio
9 Moonshadow
10 Jarvis
11 Shadow Dragon
12 Leafmist
The people who have not posted are:( No presure you don't have to post)
1 Joan B. of Arc
2 Joss
3 Moonshadow
You guys are awsome. Thanks for joining. If you have a huge idea that you can't wait to write next week you can do two stories.
(November 5, 2015 - 6:23 pm)
I'm going to write a poem.
Silver
Swirls of color,
shimmer in dim light.
The moon knows.
It can tell you
about this color.
Silver the moon,
Gold the sun.
Silver the stars and the light
at dawn.
How can it be so whole
Yet so apart?
Vast galaxies-
faraway lands
The swirl of stars in the black night
The pigments of silver
in my inkwell.
I wrote this poem about my inkwell of silver ink. It's really pretty and I love to use it. I love it so much that I couldn't write just a small poem about it. You should see some actual poems. They can be pages long, so mine's not that long. But that's not relevant.
(November 5, 2015 - 7:37 pm)