Apparently I fancy myself a writer now

[90's Child]

Well, because writing is technically a form of art and I consider myself a decent enough writer, so I would like to show you some of my work, specifically, part of an unfinished story I'm working on, and three profiles for three of the characters in it, two of which only have very minor roles in the story. Why would I create profiles for two very minor characters? Well, because this story takes place in this big universe (the Dreamerverse if you will) that i have big plans for, and I have several ideas for stories involving the other characters, allong with more characters I have yet to post profiles for.
Here is Chapter 1 of my story, of the title Lou Garou:

It was night, with a full moon dominating the sky, twinkling stars speckled here and there. Lou was in a forest, lush and filled with trees of a beautiful, wild green, scattered throughout the forest floor, the leaves rustling as he moved and the moonlight shining upon his face. He was running through the forest, wearing nothing, moving on his hands and legs like an animal, running in between the trees to and fro, a powerful scent driving him on . Primal, animalistic thoughts ran through his head, thoughts egging him onward, urging him to run. Suddenly, he heard a rustling sound in the distance. He leapt into a patch of bushes to hide, slowly cocking his head out of the bushes to better view his prey. He saw a buck wander out into view, wandering around for some food one would suppose. Hunger tore at Lou’s stomach as he waited, hoping that he could sate it. As the deer drew nearer, he pounced up in the air, every part of his mind eagerly awaiting the feast that would come, every muscle of his body tensed for the kill, ready to slash and bite into it’s flesh and… He woke up.

“Lou, what’s wrong?” Cell asked. Lou had somewhat of a worried pallor about him that day, and had been more silent than usual. Best of friends, you couldn’t really think of a more oddly contrasted pair than those two. Cell on one hand was tall and muscular, although his frame was actually quite sleek, making him look quite attractive. His circumstances of birth however were quite unusual. He was born (Or should I say grown) in a lab, created by a scientist as both a surrogate son and a test for his theories. Because of the latter reason, Cell actually had several unusual abilities, most of which stemmed from his ability of incredibly fast mass mitosis, such as healing factor, limb extension, and any other applications one could think up for such powers. Naturally, he put those powers to good use, acting as a superhero for most of his life, starting out because he was a target for supervillains trying to harness his powers for their own gain and he had to learn to defend himself, and keeping on with it due to the fact that he liked it. Of course Lou on the other hand was short and skinny with large glasses, making him look sort of stereotypically nerdy, and with big innocent eyes. These factors combined to make him look very cute, sort of like a little brother even though he and Cell shared the exact same age. He was very bright, and had helped Cell out many a time in matters of superheroics, usually through either research or formulating battle strategies. Of course, when he was actually in the heat of battle, his main tactics were to hide and try not to die. For, he was a very shy kid, not really that brave or strong of heart. The two had been best friends ever since childhood, although the contrast could not be more obvious, and they were close enough that one could instinctively tell if there was something wrong with the other.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Lou said as they walked down the hallway during lunch, “It’s just that I keep having this strange dream.” “Really?” Cell asked, his interest piqued “Can ya tell me more?”. So Lou told him about the dream, that strange dream in all it’s and horror, mentioning also how dreams like this had been constantly reoccurring for while, and getting a bit more vivid with each dream. “Isn’t there some sort of psychology that deals with dreams and things like that?” Cell asked. “Yeah, and I’ve looked some of that up, but I can’t really find much applying to mine.” Lou said. “Ya know what I think.” Cell said, a mischevious grin on his face, “It sounds like… something that would be in some sort of bad horror movie.” Cell joked, “Ya know, before the hero undergoes his “hideous transformation, he has some sort of weird dream to make what’s’ going on incredibly obvious to the audience”. Cell laughed and Lou cracked a small grin. They both knew, the notion was ludicrous. It couldn’t possibly be true. Could it?

“Lou? Lou?”. “Hunh?” he said groggily as he woke up. He had been nodding off again at lunchtime, several days after he had talked with Cell. He shifted his eyes to the speaker. It was his girlfriend Clarisse, standing right in front of him, with an uncharacteristically worried look on her face. Usually she was confident, cheerful and assertive, but now… “Lou, I was wondering, is there something wrong?” “W… w… why do you ask?” Lou said nervously, as though he was on the defensive even though Carisse had intended nothing of the sort. “Well, it’s just… you’ve been acting rather… odd lately. I know it’s kind of in your nature to be quiet and shy, and to be honest that’s why I’m attracted to you. But lately you’ve been acting strange.” “Howso?” Lou said, his face sweaty and his eyes darting nervously around from the stress. “Well for one,” Clarrisse said, getting closer, “You’ve been acting nervous. Running away in the middle of conversations, your tiredness, getting nervous whenever somebody talks to you about it. You’re doing that right now you know. Could you at least explain yourself?”. “Well,” Lou said, looking at the ground the way he usually did when he didn’t want to talk about something “I admit, I haven’t felt like myself lately. There’s something wrong with me, and I don’t know what. I really…” Then he stopped suddenly and took a quick look at himself, as though he realized something was wrong. “InmsorrybutIhavetogonowbyeseeya!” He quickly mumbled out as he dashed away. As he ran, Clarisse noticed something. There was something wrong with his face. She didn’t know what it was, but she could tell, something was off. “Oh Lou,” she thought to herself, “What’s happening to you?”

“Oh dear lord what is wrong with me?” That is what Lou thought as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He felt a lurch in his stomach as it started to happen again. What “ït” was he did not know, but it was horrible, that much he knew. Everything in his body was pulsating, his body erupting in brief, intense bursts of pain. His skin was stretching, his muscles were stretching, and even his bones were stretching. He couldn’t let them see him like this, anyone, he couldn’t tell them at all. Not Cell, not Clarisse, no-one could know about what degeneration was happening to him. That is what he thought as he scrabbled into a stall to keep people from seeing him. His skin burnt as shocks of something erupted in patches and his breathing became harder and harder as his body warped. His green eyes dilated and drips and drabs of blood fell from his fingertips as something barely poked out from underneath them. How long would he be able to keep this charade of wellness up, weeks? Months? Years? And what, what in gods name would be the end result? But then, it all went away. The pulsation, the pain, the changing, everything stopped. But Lou knew it wouldn’t be for long.

But one day, Lou was missing from school. Apparently it was because of some odd sickness. A subtle pallor of worry hung over Cell for the day, wondering if the dream Lou had mentioned had something to do with Lou’s ill health. Lou had been getting worse over the last few weeks, and When he got home, he heard the phone ring. “Hello?”. “Cell, you need to come over here right away.” Lou said. He sounded panicked and scared, his voice trembling with fear. “What for?”. “I can’t tell you until you come over here, but it’s important. Really important.” “Alright, I’ll be on my way.” Cell said as he raced out the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Garou?” Cell said. “Yes?” she asked. “Can I please see Lou?” “Yes, he’s in his bedroom.” “Thanks!’ Cell said, rushing up the stairs. Lisa Garou was a woman in her forties, although she looked very young for her age. Nobody really knew much about her past, or what happened to Mr. Garou. When she was asked about these things, her face became very serious and she simply sighed said “There are some things that are best kept unsaid.”. She was a good mother who was very devoted to her son and she was a likeable woman, but one could notice a hidden sadness in her, as though she was keeping something from the rest of the world.

“Lou?” Cell said. “Please, come here” Lou said. Lou was in his bed, completely under the covers, cringing away from Cell’s vision like he was hiding something. “Lou, what’s wrong?”. “You know how I mentioned that dream I had?” he said in a scared breathless voice. “Yeah?” Cell said. “Well, its gotten worse.” he said. “Every night, it’s become more vivid, more powerful, and it scares me. Every night I’ve been constantly waking up, trying to get it out of my head though it seems burnt into my skull. For the last few days, I’ve been having these strange, horrible, things happening to be, my body, it’s morphing, it’s mutating, it’s been doing something to me, changing m…” Suddenly he scrunched up in pain, something horrible happening to him Cell thought. “Are you okay?” Cell asked looking concerned as he pulled down the bed covers, afraid to see what had happened to him. He saw Lou’s face, but to his astonishment and horror it was changed drastically. His ears were elongated, like that of an elf but longer. He had small amounts of what could be called hair, but it was more like fur, running up his neck. His eyes were the most distinctive part of him now, with a yellow glow and a lupine appearance. “No,” Lou said “I’m not okay”

It was horrific. Slowly, something terrible started happen to him. What had occured before was merely a prelude, a quiet introduction to a grotesque song of flesh and blood. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t. The pain was too much, all Lou could do was curl up into a little ball in a futile effort to stop this transformation, or at least quiet his body’s screams of torment, as Cell looked on in horror. All that could be heard was the sound of bones clacking and snapping against each other and the quiet sobbing of Louis. Cell could see the fur growing like a wildfire blazing out from his skin, feeling like a wave of needles pushing out of his body, covering everything. His skin was being stretched like as the bones extended against it to accommodate their new form while the skin tried to catch up as shudders of pain wracked through his frame. Cell could see the beginnings of claws pushing out of his fingertips, drawing out small spurts of blood as they pushed themselves out of the fingernails. Cell could see his muscles swelling against his bathrobe, making it tighter, tighter, until it gave way to the stress and ripped like a tissue to expose the thick coat of fur slowly growing on his skin. Jutting rows of sharp teeth pushed their way out of his mouth, although now it was more of a muzzle, as it slowly elongated while he was trying to scream. His ears slowly pushed, jutted out and moved up his head. The worst part of it though was the fear in Lou’s face. Cell could see that Lou was scared, having no idea what was going on and horrified at what was happening to him. He was weeping bitter tears as his body warped and twisted, futilely attempting to scream. Cell could see him vaguely mouth the words “Help me.” as the atrocious change reached it’s climax.

It was finished. Slowly, the dazed creature that used to be Louis rose from the transformation. It was a sleek beast, enormous in size. It was a werewolf. Its form was like that of an anthromorpic wolf, muscular, streamlined and intimidating. Cell was in the back of the room, not wanting to hurt Louis, but prepared to defend himself from the beast’s claws if need be. But then something strange happened. Instead of attacking as Cell expected it to, it looked around, looked at Cell, looked at itself… and then broke out into a run, straight through the window. The window smashed into shards and came out of the wall, along with a large part of the wall, as Louis, or whatever he was now, ran away from the house into the night.

Cell broke out into a run after Lou, trying to warp his legs and lungs into a for better fit for persuing the beast, though even then he could still barely keep up. The thought that was going through his mind now was mainly “Oh s***, oh s***, oh s***!” as he followed Lou. He wondered though, why had Lou just ran away from him rather than violently attacking him? Why wasn’t he a meaty splatter on the wall right now? But, no matter. He could think about that when he caught up with him. The trail was easy to follow, the gigantic tracks and the scattered debris from the creature’s clumsy run forming a makeshift path for him. The path wound and twisted, as though it’s maker was confused about which way to go or where to run, but it soon reached the forest outside of town. When Cell had gotten a decent-ways in, he could faintly see Lou running in front of him. He had an ape-like walk when running, and although stumbling clumsily, he still was running at an astonishing rate. Finally they reached a cliff near the end of the woods. As the creature backed away and Cell, slowly edged forward, it turned around, Cell saw it’s, no not it’s, his, face. It was not the face of a hellish a, nor the face of a cold-hearted killer. It was instead the face of an innocent boy, confused about what was happening to him, with tear-marks streaming down his fur, scared of what he had become. And it was then that Cell realized that, even though Lou was whatever he was, he was still the same person he’d always been.

“Lou,” Cell said in a slow calm voice, as though to reassure Lou, “It’s me, your friend. I’m not going to hurt you. I know you’re scared, horrified and bewildered, and to be honest so am I. But whatever it is that you’ve become, I’m still here for you. I’m still your friend.”. As he outstretched his hand, Lou cautiously came forward, awkwardly moving towards his friend. He then knelt down, and, with tears sadness and friendship, gave Cell a hug. In the midst of this Lou managed to choke out some words from in-between his sobs. “I :sob: was so scared, I didn’t know what :sob: to do.”. “It’s okay,” Cell said “even if you are a… werewolf”. It felt strange saying those words, . Cell helped Lou up, stumbling as he tried to regain his footing, and they started to talk about the predicament in front of them. As they spoke, Cell was able to get a good look at Lou for the first time since he had changed. He was a sleek, muscular, gigantic anthropoid beast, with jet-black fur and golden-green eyes, an incredible sight to behold.

As they were talking, Lou mentioned, “The real thing I’m wondering is, why? Why did this happen to me?”. “Well, have you been bitten by…” Cell said. “No, and none of that other stuff about devils deals and wolf-fur belts either. And if it was hereditary, I think mom would have told me sometime a-…”

Suddenly, they heard a rustling in the forest in back of them. They could see another pair of glowing eyes racing towards them. It burst out of the forest running a mad dash and skidded to a halt. It was a beast like Lou, but she was female, and appeared older than Lou, yet strangely smaller than him (Although she was still much larger than Cell). She looked panicked, and strangely familiar…

“Mom?!” Lou said. “Yes Lou, it’s me” she said in a hurried voice “Now hurry, we need to leave.”. “Why?” Lou asked. “Because, we need to see some people. People like us. And Cell,”. “Yes?” he asked. “We’re going to be… away for about one or two weeks, and you need to cover for us. Make sure nobody knows what happened.” And Lou and his mother ran off into the distance, leaving both Lou and Cell with so many unanswered questions.



.................................................. ..........

And here are the profiles:
Cell-
Appearance: Sleek yet muscular (I don’t know if it would be possible to do, but I think it could be), short hair.
Bio: About 16 years old. He was born in a lab, created by a kind bioscientist as both a son (Using some of the DNA of his dead wife), as well as a test for a new type of biotech, basically a body that is modifiable at a thought, a self-moldable human if you will. Although not wanted by his father, he got a lot of media attention, which lead to a lot of villains wanting to get their hands on him to find out what made his powers tick. Thus how he got into the superheroism business, defending himself and his father from villains wanting to get him and use his powers, along the way building relationships with other superheroes and the police. Also, he discovered that he liked being a superhero, and decided to keep with it as his goal in life. He is best friends with Lou Garou, and pretty good friends with Clarrise.
Personality: Likeable, cheerful, intelligent but not really versed in the ways of the world.
Powers: Can control cell growth and create mass mitosis (Think controllable cancer, except awesome instead of fatal) , able to do things like stretch himself Mr. Fantastic-style, create a nerve stun-gun, creating tentacles, creating weapons and armor out of bone, altering his facial features for disguises, drastically altering his shape for specific purposes, and this list can go on and on.

Lou Garou-
Appearance: In human form, short, thin, nerdy in a cute child-like sort of way. He has large wide eyes, like a puppy dog’s eyes. When in werewolf form, he is gigantic, much larger than most of the other werewolves even. Yet he still retains those large puppy-dog eyes.
Bio: Age 16 He first made friends with cell in first grade, where Cell protected him from a group of bullies. They’ve been best friends ever since. He‘s also a werewolf. HE first changed at age 16, with Cell witnessing it happening to him, and it turns out he inherited it from his mother. After meeting with the local werewolf pack and learning about his powers (Which is what the other story I’m sending you is about), as well as an ambush by the werewolf hunting organization (The leader of which I also have yet to write a profile for). A while afterwards, at the suggestion of Cell, he started partnering up with him in fighting crime. He also is in a relationship with Clarisse, whom is the only person other than Cell and his pack to know what he truly is.
Personality: Shy, nerdy, sensitive
Powers: Can transform into a gigantic werewolf with super strength, enhanced senses and a healing-factor. Like all werewolves in this universe, he retains his human mind when changed.

The Magnificent Scarlette/Clarisse
Appearance: Attractive, athletic in physique. Her costume has a lot of red in it, along with a small black face-mask (Like the ones in The Incredibles). Although she is very attractive, her costume is designed more for function over form, very practical in appearance (Eg. Wears a sports bra under it, no high-heels, no dress-based part, ect.). Not very revealing either, and there’s very little fanservice centered around her in superhero form, which is often joked about. She has long beautiful red hair.
Bio: About 16 years old. She is the daughter of a former superhero, who resigned in shame after a humiliating scandal. Her father doesn’t like her gallivanting out in her costumed persona, The Magnificent Scarlette. She’s Lou’s girlfriend, their relationship starting, believe it or not, when he was the only one who recognized who she was behind that mask. Is decent friends with Cell.
Personality- Aggressive yet good-natured, outgoing, confident, feisty, somewhat playful in attitude, can kick ass with the best of them, quite intelligent
Powers: Occular energy projection, flight, super strength. She may actually be stronger than her father, due to the fact that her powers have a quirk in them that makes it so that females with the gene for superpowers are more powerful than with males with it.

So, what do you think?

:EDIT: Replaced crappy first draft with slightly less crappy second draft.

[Misdemonar]

YOUR WRITING IS MEDIOCRE, YOUR CHARACTERS ARE UNISPIRED, YOU REUSE WORDS, PEPOLE WANT CHARACTERS DESCRIBED IN THE TEXT, NOT IN A SEPRATE PROFILE, AND YOUR PLOT IS BORING TRIPE THAT HAS BEEN USED A THOUSAND TIMES.

[Pub Lover]

Writing is not Art. You have violated the rules of the Art Shit Forum. This thread should be in Recommended Reading... Uhh, OK. It's now called Comics 'n Books. Either way, you're now banned.

[Sacks]

When will you learn, Johnathan?!

[Evil Robot]

You know 90's child, chances are you are some kind of jerk.

[Sam]

TTTTTRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEE

[The Leader]

Oh God, it's like my high school creative writing class all over again.

[Misdemonar]

TTTTTRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEE

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

[90's Child]

Oh God, it's like my high school creative writing class all over again.
Guess what?! I AM a high school student (age 17).

Well, I can see that the responses to my story have ranged from "This sucks" to "Das est shizer" to "Cast it into the pit, for it will damn us all" to "I will cut your throat and kill you in your sleep". But could someone please provide some sort of actual constructive criticism rather than "U R teh sUcks LawlS". Ya know, something to help me improve on my apparently craptacular writing. Here's chapters 2 and 3, all the chapters I have made for it so far, to serve as MST3K bait and fuel for much collective merriment at my expence:

Chapter 2-

Moist tears glistened on Lou’s cheeks as he ran down the long corridors of trees. He was somewhat lagging behind his mother as he ran, awkwardly loping along on four limbs. His new hind legs were awkward to run on, so he ran quadrupedaly, although it was actually quite awkward in itself. His thoughts as he ran were scattered and muddled, with so many questions, so much sadness, so much fear. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he thought, cold and wet as they inlaid themselves in his fur. Yet he ran onwards. It was at least a distraction from his current plight, and it felt… well it felt… kind of… good. He didn’t know where his mother was taking them, just that it would be somewhere that they could be safe, somewhere with people like them. So he followed her onward.

After they ran for a while, Lou saw a blurry light in the distance. As he moved forward he saw the faint outline of a cabin, light streaming out of the windows as he moved forward. “Is this the place?” Lou wondered as he came closer and closer to the woodland cabin. Suddenly, his mother came to an abrupt stop. Lou tried to do likewise, although he did hurt his paws (were they called paws or hands now, he didn’t really know) as he skidded to a halt. As he brought himself to his feet, his mother looked at him and said nervously “Lou, I want you to wait while I go talk to someone”. Lou could see that her face was full of worry, as though she herself was unsure of what exactly was going to happen, her eyes shifting two and fro fretfully. As his mother walked up to the cabin, Lou took a quick look at it. It was an ordinary cabin by anyone’s standards, about the size of a small house, not really anything out of the ordinary in its appearance. The only difference was that the cabin and its door appeared to be a bit taller than one usually would expect. Lou wondered why that was, although he could hazard a guess.

Lou heard his mother knock on the door, and from inside the cabin, Lou could hear a few footsteps walking towards it, a sigh and then a voice saying “Who in the hell would be around here at this hou-“. Lou could see a small flap near the door open and then a pair of shocked looking eyes. Lou couldn’t quite understand why at the moment, but something appeared fairly unusual about them, a strange glow or something of the sort, gleaming in the distance.

“Lisa?!” the voice said, “Is that you? Oh my god. Why did you…”. “Come back? I’ll tell you inside” Lisa said. The door opened and Lisa quickly went inside. As Lou waited, he could hear a faint murmuring inside the cabin. After a few moments, the door opened and Lou’s mother came out. “Lou, will you please come into the cabin.”, she asked in a worried voice, her head down, looking somewhat apprehensive and concerned. Lou awkwardly stood up on his feet and slowly wobbled his way to the cabin. As he brought himself up the steps, he looked into the door, and was awestruck at what he saw.

Werewolves. Huddled around the door. Looking at him. Lou felt very awkward, having all those odd eyes on him. It was embarrassing, especially like this.

After a few moments of them staring each other, Lou finally started to walk into the room, stumbling a bit clumsily as he did so… And then he proceeded to trip and fall flat on his face. More uncomfortable silence. “So,” one of the werewolves stepped out and said, “this is your son, Lisa?” .He was not the one whom answered the door, but a different one. He appeared to be the leader of the group, mainly through the manner at which the other werewolves responded to him, his rugged figure and his powerful stance. “Is he…”. “Yes,” Lisa responded to the leader, “He’s James’ son.”. Lou remembered that name, the name of his father, of whom he knew nothing more than a first name. His mother never told him much else, and when he tried to ask her, she got a certain faraway, sad look in her eyes. As though she was remembering something sad that had happened years ago.

Lou helped himself up, wobbling a little bit as he stood. The other werewolves were eyeing him, not so much with suspicion as with a feeling of oddness, as well as a little pity for the boy. He stumbled up upon his feet and tried to look around the room, trying to look less scared than he actually felt inside, and failing miserably might I add, as his mannerisms gave him away. As he got up, the leader said “Well kid, I think we’ve got a whooooole lot of explaining to do. So, why don’tcha go over there and sit down so we can talk.” And with that, he pointed to the back of the room, where a semi-circle of chairs were standing. Lou looked at the spot and started wobbling towards the closest chair. And he others followed suit. But as Lou’s mother came forward, the leader came and held out his hand as if to stop her. “I’m sorry Lisa,” he said in an almost regretful tone, “But I just don’t think you’re in any state to help him with this. And besides,” he said with a small intonation of anger and disgust in his voice, “You didn’t tell him when you had the chance.”.

Lou sat down on the chair, slowly though as to avoid hurting his tail. He sat down, a little scared and apprehensive from wondering what was going to happen now. His eyes darted around the room nervously, sort of at least trying to assess his situation. The leader also looked a bit indeceisive, trying to think of what the hell to ask the kid to calm him down from what surely must have been a shocking, unthinkably terrifying event for the boy. “So kid,” the leader said, “I know you’re probably incredibly, horribly, mind numbingly scared right now.”. Lou nodded his head timidly. “So could ya… talk to us kid? Tell us how you’re feeling right now”. Lou was silent for a few moments thinking of how to respond to him, how to tell him all the jumbled thoughts whirling around his head. And then he spoke.

“W-…w-…well. I … I’m scared. I’m scared because… I’m not human anymore. I’m just… just… a monster. And I’ll never be able to go back.” Lou gave a small sob, breathing tremulous breaths, his eyes welling up with tears as he continued to speak. “I don’t know what to say, but, oh god this has been a living hell for me. The dreams were one thing, but now this. Do you know how it feels to have the very sanctity of your body violated? Do you know how it feels to see your body twisted, and turned and broken? Do you know how it feels to look at youself being mutilated from within and ask why, why in god’s name is this happening to me? Do You?! I had to hide it from everyone. Friends, family, everyone. As my body warped itself, I had to hide it from everyone I ncold dark palces, nobody to hear my screams of pain. Oh god, and the worst was tonight. Cold sweat running down my body as it screamed in pain, every pore on my body burning in agony. And I could see my best friend, looking at me. Looking me like I was a monster. I…

As Lou continued onwards in tears, the leader of the pack sat there looking confused, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with the poor sobbing boy in front of him. Just then a voice piped up from amongst the others, and it appeared to be the same one who met his mother at the door. “Permission to speak Kanis?” he said. “Permission granted Jack,” the leader said “go ahead.” . “Lou,” Jack said in a kind voice “What does it feel like? To be one of us?” “Well,” Lou said, wiping away some of the tears from his eyes, crying a little less now, “Nothing feels right. I feel like I’m a pot that came out wrong. I’m tripping over my own feet, I can’t walk, everything smells strange, my ears are ringing from the noise, all over I feel, strange. And I’m not sure I like it. I feel like I’m some inhuman thing. A sick, horrible, grotesque…”.
“Hold on, hold on.” Jack interrupted, in a somewhat intrigued tone, “Have you actually seen what you look like kid? I mean in a mirror or something like that, not just a quick glance at yourself?”. Lou sniffled a little and said “No. But… it just feels so wrong, so god damn wrong. I know I look horrifying, I just know it!”. Jack sighed and said “Kid, why don’t you go over there and take a good look at yourself.”. He pointed at the far right side of the room, and at the exact spot where he pointed Lou saw a large mirror. Lou wobbled up and said “I don’t know how that’s going to help. But alright…”. Lou slowly stumbled over to the mirror, his eyes snapped shut for fear of what he might see as he got closer.

He slowly opened his eyes, hesitating from the anticipation of what horrible sight would meet his eyes when he opened them. But as he opened them, he was quite surprised by what he saw. Not the warped, broken creature he had expected to see, but a rather different image in the mirror’s glass. He saw a powerful, muscular, gigantic beast, with fur of black, and eyes of golden blue. It was not a thing of horror but a thing of sheer, unique wonder.

I… I…” Lou sputtered out as he looked at himself in the mirror. “See kiddo,” Jack said, looking glad that he was getting through to Lou “it’s not so bad.” At that moment Kanis broke in and said “So, I can see that Jack has helped you out of your misery a bit. I know you’re probably confused as all fuck right now kid about what the hell is going on, but that’s what we’re here for.”. “By the way,” Lou piped in, as he had wanted to ask this question ever since he had got there “What in the hey sort of group is this?.”. “Well,” Kanis said, his voice sounding like he had been waiting for Lou to ask this question “we’re a group of werewolves like yourself, one of many such groups, and what we do is basically serve as a sort of family-away-from-family for other werewolves, helping each other out when one of us is in a jam, and all that sort of stuff. Everyone here calls it a pack, but I never liked calling it that. Too damn corny for my tastes.” “Anyway,” Kanis continued “you’re probably thinking that this is some sort of horrible curse, a cross you’ll have to bear, and other things like that. But I think you’ll learn to accept it soon. Hell, you might even come to enjoy it.”

“Well, that’s about it,” Kanis said, getting up from his seat, “Kid, why dontcha take a look around here, maybe talk to some of the others your age.” Lou slowly teetered up out of his seat, and as he did several others stood up too.

Chapter 3

Lou stood in the middle of the cabin, looking at the other group that was forming. There were three of them in there, all appearing to be around his age. One of them was a male of light-brown fur color, with an aggressive, brooding look on his face. He was muscular, and would have been considered tall if he were a human, but amongst the other werewolves, he looked rather small. His stance was as though he was trying to make himself look bigger as he moved, although Lou could tell that it didn’t help very much. Another one of them was about average size among werewolves, with thick blonde fur. He was jovial looking, wagging his tail and smiling, and Lou noticed that he had the most wolflike mannerisms of the three. The third one was a female of decent appearance, a brunette of a slightly lighter shade than Lou, a bit of a puzzled look on her face.
“So, what do ya think of the new guy?” the blonde one queried, cocking his head to the side a little.
“He’s weak” muttered the short one, sulking a bit more as the words passed through his lips.
“Weak, what the hell are you talking about Ben?” The blonde one queried “He’s huge, even for us! Built like a tank!”
Ben sighed, shook his head and said “I meant emotionally. He’s an emotional weakling, a complete fucking pussy.”
“Just face it,” piped in the girl, “You’re just jealous.”
“Kara’s right.” The blonde one chimed in “You do have quite the inferiority complex”
Ben’s nostrils flared and he gave a short, low growl.
“Say what you want,” he glowered, his voice slowly rising, “But I am not going to let this overgrown omega intrude…” He stopped.
The other two were looking nervous and pointing subtly right behind him. Ben looked confused and then realized “He’s right behind me isn’t he?”.
And indeed he was.
”Um…. Hi?” Lou muttered awkwardly, sort of embarrassed at his interruption of the conversation.
“Um… Hey new guy.” The blonde one said, with a tone of both nervousness and welcoming. “Why dontcha…. Take a seat.”
Lou pulled up the one empty chair in the room and stumbled down to sit.
“So, what’s your name?” The blonde one asked, leaning towards Lou and sniffing at him, which made Lou a little uncomfortable.
“Uh.. Lou Garou” Lou said shyly.
The three others looked at each other with a look of puzzlement in their faces “Well, that’s an… interesting name.” the blonde one said. “My name’s Timothy. The lovely lady over here is named Kara” He said as he motioned over to the girl who sheepishly waved hello “and the short guy with issues over there is Ben” he said as he pointed over to Ben who gave a soft growl of displeasure at Timothy’s comment. “Relax Ben; just joking with you” Timothy responded, obviously worried about pissing Ben off even though he was twice Ben’s size.
“So,” Kara said, trembling a little as she spoke and trying to keep from blushing, “why don’t you tell us a little about yourself?”
“Okay,” Lou said trying to steady his tongue to speak “well, I consider myself a shy, quiet person, kind of a geek. I live in a small house on Oak Street, it’s not that much but it’s decent. My best friend’s name is Jeremy, although most people call him Cell…”
“Hold on,” Timothy said, “is he the same guy as that one hero, that up-and-comer with the weird powers? The hero whom, no matter how good he does, the newspapers only put him on page 7?”
“Yeah,” Lou said, in an oddly casual matter given the subject, “that’s him. He’s a pretty nice guy, although sometimes he’s way too trusting and it’s pretty easy for me to get tangled up in whatever hero stuff he’s doing, but overall he’s a great guy. He’s been my friend ever since we were kids and…” Lou’s face darkened as he spoke “He was the one who saw me change tonight. He was okay with it. I don’t know what’s going to happen now though. Whether I’ll be able to go on with my life. How many secrets will I have to keep? How much will I have to hide? Everything feels so uncertain. I… I…”. The others, Ben excepted, looked upon him with pity, thinking about how worried they would have been if they had no idea what was going on during their first change.
“Hey, kid, don’t worry.” Kara said, trying to be nice and calm him down “Sure, things will be a little different. But you’ll still be able to live a at least semi-normal life..”
“Yeah.” Timothy replied “I really don’t see why you’re so upset. Being a werewolf is actually pretty damn cool.”
“Says the guy who asked to be changed.” Ben muttered under his breath, just loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Ben!” Kara said.
“Timothy’s right though.” Ben spoke, this time a little louder, bitterness infusing his every word “He’s pathetic, blubbering when he should be thanking his lucky stars for what he’s got. He’s a weak omega-at-heart.”
“Would you please stop being such a vindictive bastard?” Kara sighed, a little bit of annoyance sounding in her voice.
“I’m just saying.” Ben curtly replied as he slumped back down in his chair, giving Lou a dirty “I’m watching you” sort of look.
Timothy leaned over to Lou and whispered, “Don’t worry about Ben. He’s like that to everyone.”
……………………………………………………………………………………………
“So, what do ya think of the kid?” Kanis said, “Seems like a good kid, a fine addition to the pack, but I want to ask what you think”. He and the other werewolves were huddled in a circle of chairs on the side of the room that was opposite to the circle where Lou was at that moment. He held a small child in his lap, human but in a small pair of wolf footie pajamas, appearing to be intently listening to every word being said, but I digress.
“Well,” Jack said, “He seems like a quiet, shy soul. A very shy sort of person whom doesn’t like to be in the limelight.”
“I don’t really think you could tell that much about him from hearing him speak for just a few minutes.” A female piped up.
Kanis just gave a wry grin and answered back “You’d be surprised by how much you can learn from just hearing someone react to their first change.”
“Erm, excuse me,” a voice said. It was from a male with black fur and a small crucifix around his neck, sitting next to the aforementioned female. They both had similar rings on, and appeared to be married. “You’re all forgetting something: the issue of Lisa, and whether we should let her back in.”
Kanis gave a shrug and said “Well, it’s kind of a non-issue at this point. Although that… incident and its aftermath was horrible, and it will take some time to mend that wound, we’ll still have to suck it up. For the good of the boy.”
“I would have to disagree with that statement” came a low growl.
It came from a male, his face in shadow, eyes cold; intelligent and cruel, burns speckling his body, or what one would consider burns if one didn’t know what he was.
“We shouldn’t admit either of them. The boy is but a child, a child in a world of wolves. He is a soft person in a hard shell, worth nothing to us. And Lisa… She left of her own will. She should know that you can never come back when you leave like that. Leave her to the cold.”
Kanis stood up, the child stepping off his lap and ducking behind the chair in fear, fur bristling and a small growl coming through in his speech “I’d punch you in your damn face for that comment Wagner, except for I’d have to touch you to do so. And you’re one to talk.”
Wagner was about to answer back, when a young female, whom looked to be about in her early twenties, and bore a striking resemblance to the other female, whom was her mother as it was. “Guys, guys, settle down.” She said, holding her arms out as to stop the fight “Other than Wagner, whom thinks that Lisa should be kept out of the pack?”. Nobody raised any hands.
“Jennifer’s right.” Kanis said, sitting down in a huff, “So it’s agreed then. Everyone whom matters,” Kanis intoned with a note of bitterness, glaring at Wagner “says she should be readmitted.” Everyone nodded except for Wagner, whom just scowled.
“I’ll go get her” Kanis said as he lifted himself from his chair. “Poor girl.” He muttered to himself, “Just been waiting over there wondering what’s gonna happen to her.”

She had been waiting near the door for what must have felt like ages, although it was actually only about half an hour. She had watched, worried about what would happen to Lou, how they would treat him. She could hear what they were saying at first, but it got lost in the cacophony of voices speaking. And so she waited, worrying and worrying. After a while, she saw Kanis come over to her. “Is he… okay?”
“He was a bit distraught at first” Kanis said, “but he’s at least somewhat OK now.”
“So… what now?”
“Well, the pack has decided that you can rejoin us. That is, if you want to..”
“Of course, of course I do.”
“Well, that’s good then…”
They both stood there for a few minutes, the silence so awkward that it could trip on itself.
“Well, I think it’s about time for everyone to hit the hay.” Kanis said awkwardly to try and break the silence.
As Kanis announced to the pack that it was time for lights out, Timothy said “Awww, and we were having such a good conversation too.”
“I’ll get the sleeping bags,” Jack said as he walked over to a nearby wardrobe, “I think we have a few spares we keep around. Though I don’t know if I have any in your size.” Out of the wardrobe, he grabbed several very large sleeping bags and passed them around to the various pack members. Lou took his, rolled it out on the floor, and tried to get in. He had to keep it unzipped a little to fit in, and even then it was a little uncomfortable. Oh well. As he tried to get to sleep, he contemplated on the dizzying flurry of events that happened that day. The transformation, the chase, the reveal of the others. He pondered in thought about it, wondering about what would come to happen. No matter he thought as he drifted off to sleep.


Also, as an FYI, I didn't put in the profiles because you need them to understand the story (you don't), but instead to give you a little backstory for these minor characters that will probably pop up in another work of mine. And you can move it to the comics section.

:EDIT: I added my second, marginally less craptastic draft for all to see.

[The Leader]

But could someone please provide some sort of actual constructive criticism rather than "U R teh sUcks LawlS". Ya know, something to help me improve on my apparently craptacular writing.

YOUR WRITING IS MEDIOCRE, YOUR CHARACTERS ARE UNISPIRED, YOU REUSE WORDS, PEPOLE WANT CHARACTERS DESCRIBED IN THE TEXT, NOT IN A SEPRATE PROFILE, AND YOUR PLOT IS BORING TRIPE THAT HAS BEEN USED A THOUSAND TIMES.

;)

[90's Child]

Well, yes, I understand that, but could some of you be a bit more specific on exactly HOW I can improve my story? Or is this unsalvageable?

[Sacks]

Turn it into Nightcourt slash fanfiction.

[Misdemonar]

IF YOU CAN'T HONESTLY TAKE A LOOK AT YOUR OWN WRITING, AND THINK "GEE, THIS SHURE SOUNDS LIKE A THOUSAND STORIES THAT OTHER PEPOLE HAVE WRITTEN AND EVEN THEN THEY WERE TERRIBLE." YOU'VE GOT PROBLEMS BUDDY.

[Tadao]

I like your drawings better.

[Kitsa]

I involuntarily eyerolled at "Lou Garou", but I'm French...so, you know.

I guess if you want constructive criticism it would be helpful to know exactly where you're going with this. Is this something you're cutting your teeth on, something that would otherwise never see the light of day? I mean, you're entitled to practice. Or is this something that you're fleshing out for publication? Something for a writing class?

You understand that if I'm seen being "too nice" to you, Tadao's going to materialize out of the woodwork again to accuse me of mothering someone.

[Tadao]

http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/whistler/i/mother.jpg

[Misdemonar]

I involuntarily eyerolled at "Lou Garou", but I'm French...so, you know.

I guess if you want constructive criticism it would be helpful to know exactly where you're going with this. Is this something you're cutting your teeth on, something that would otherwise never see the light of day? I mean, you're entitled to practice. Or is this something that you're fleshing out for publication? Something for a writing class?

You understand that if I'm seen being "too nice" to you, Tadao's going to materialize out of the woodwork again to accuse me of mothering someone.

NO NO NO NO NO

[90's Child]

I involuntarily eyerolled at "Lou Garou", but I'm French...so, you know.

I guess if you want constructive criticism it would be helpful to know exactly where you're going with this. Is this something you're cutting your teeth on, something that would otherwise never see the light of day? I mean, you're entitled to practice. Or is this something that you're fleshing out for publication? Something for a writing class?

You understand that if I'm seen being "too nice" to you, Tadao's going to materialize out of the woodwork again to accuse me of mothering someone.
Well, when I thought of the name, I thought the pun was original. What I didn't realise was that several people had actually already used it. But it's my name so I'm sticking to it.

Anyway, I do plan to publish this story in some altered form someday in my far future, but for now this is just an excercize in tooth-cutting and my first attempt at the story. As for where I am going with the story, it involves Lou trying to learn the skills necessary to live as a werewolf and the attack of a homicidal organization of werewolf-hunters trying to kill them all, with one of them having a certain link to one of the werewolves (As a hint, it's the one that has the 2nd most implausible name, next to Lou Garou, and there's a meaning behind it).

And yes, I realise that it is somewhat cliched. It comes with the territory, and I understand that I do take a lot of influences from other writers on the same topic. But I am trying to do them my way, and I want to try and make them good, thus why I am asking for help. And some of my ideas are more original. Such as the Son of Cthulhu meeting up with the reincarnation of Christ, and a superteam that Cell temporarily partners up with composed of the losers of superherodom, (including a Silver-Age throwback, a parody on Luke-Cage style blacksploitation heroes, a parody on Rob-Lyfeld esque heroes, and a character based on what superpowers caused by radioactive waste would really look like and who's powers partially involve the noxious substances oozing out of his tumors), or; for a character; a guy with fireproof skin who sweats napalm; can spray it out of glands on his arms; flies with six gigantic leathery wings harnessing the heat; calls himself Seraphim, and works for the government as a silent angel of death.

[Misdemonar]

Anyway, I do plan to publish this story in some altered form someday

And yes, I realise that it is somewhat cliched. It comes with the territory, and I understand that I do take a lot of influences from other writers on the same topic. But I am trying to do them my way, and I want to try and make them good, thus why I am asking for help. And some of my ideas are more original. Such as the Son of Cthulhu meeting up with the reincarnation of Christ, and a superteam that Cell temporarily partners up with composed of the losers of superherodom, (including a Silver-Age throwback, a parody on Luke-Cage style blacksploitation heroes, a parody on Rob-Lyfeld esque heroes, and a character based on what superpowers caused by radioactive waste would really look like and who's powers partially involve the noxious substances oozing out of his tumors), or; for a character; a guy with fireproof skin who sweats napalm; can spray it out of glands on his arms; flies with six gigantic leathery wings harnessing the heat; calls himself Seraphim, and works for the government as a silent angel of death.

OH HO HO HO HO, IT'LL NEVER BE ORIGINAL.

[Kitsa]

@Tadao: there are worse things to be.

[Tadao]

Yeah, a father.

[Zomboid]

You're not a writer. Your story is shit, and your "writing style" is the same as every other dick-wad twilight fan/internet fan fiction enthusiast. Give it up, and please don't make an attempt at pursuing it in college or university.

There's an abundance of terrible writers in my program, but thankfully none of them have written anything as shitty as that.

[Zomboid]

Oh, "running in between the trees to and fro, a powerful scent driving him on . Primal, animalistic thoughts ran through his head, thoughts egging him onward, urging him to run. "
:lol

[Tadao]

I'll never understand why people try to write a 200 page poem in English. If you are going to continue to write in English, please write short poems or novels that let the reader decide what the morning sky looks like and get to the fucking story already.

[Kitsa]

Because of all this and more, I would never ever be a creative writing teacher.

I hated being a creative writing student for all of these reasons.

[Tadao]

He fancied himself a writer. His thesaurus was well worn at the spine and he considered that to be as important as his grandmothers bible. To have the same descriptive word used in the same chapter made him feel like a dolt. He was a child of the 90's, and this being 2009, meant that he was fresh out of high school. He had learned all about comparing himself to a tree and believed Shakespeare was a genius, because that's what his teacher told him. He never really understood what made him a genius, but if he could emulate him somehow, he might learn the secret art of the written word.

But alas... ALAS! He chocked to death on his own ego.

[Kitsa]

This feels like some sort of ugly literary darwinism in action. :/

[Tadao]

YOU GOT
SERIFED!

[Tadao]

In all seriousness, there are many styles of witting. And yours falls into one that makes a shit ton of money, but will never win a serious award. Romance novel. Sorry, it's a heavy blow.

[Zomboid]

Even shitty romance novels are written better than that. Plus, they usually have more than one adjective.

[90's Child]

This feels like some sort of ugly literary darwinism in action. :/
Yes, yes it does. Regardless, they do have a point. My work does tend to be sprinkled with multiple egregious examples of prose as purple as an emperor's robe, and could be considered more like a Victorian penny-dreadful, which were the male equivalent to cheezy romance novels. I know I'll never be the next Allan Moore, but I do not want to be stuck with the label of the next Stephanie Myer. How exactly does a person clean up purple prose in their works?

[Tadao]

My suggestion is to write a short story in it's most basic form and then write it again adding a little detail, and then once more to flesh it out were needed. If you practice with short stories you'll eventually find out what the readers needs to know vrs what the reader should be left to imagine.

When people read books, they need to be drawn into the story, one way of accomplishing that is to let the reader connect with the character. If you tell the reader his hair is brown, let the reader decide if it is a feather cut or how long based on the characters nature. Only go into detail when it is absolutely important to the storyline or if it is playing on a clever pun.

Practice on short stories though. Have a decided beginning and end and try to make them meet in 500 words or less. You'll find that things you thought were important to the story are really just fluff and stuff. It's only a practice so don't beat yourself up over it. It's only going in the trash or a folder to be worked on again if you think it can go somewhere.

[Dimnos]

My suggestion is to write a short story in it's most basic form and then write it again adding a little detail, and then once more to flesh it out were needed. If you practice with short stories you'll eventually find out what the readers needs to know vrs what the reader should be left to imagine.

When people read books, they need to be drawn into the story, one way of accomplishing that is to let the reader connect with the character. If you tell the reader his hair is brown, let the reader decide if it is a feather cut or how long based on the characters nature. Only go into detail when it is absolutely important to the storyline or if it is playing on a clever pun.

Practice on short stories though. Have a decided beginning and end and try to make them meet in 500 words or less. You'll find that things you thought were important to the story are really just fluff and stuff. It's only a practice so don't beat yourself up over it. It's only going in the trash or a folder to be worked on again if you think it can go somewhere.

This is better advice on wrighting that I have ever heard from any teacher in my life. :lol Have you ever considered being a teacher Tadao? I can just picture it now....










all the lawsuits.

[Kitsa]

Or... screw form and modality, and just tell a story. Casually. No overblown verbiage (that was used semi-sarcastically, btw), none of the ordinary cumbersome shit that makes people lose their patience and move on. Write what "sounds" right, not what you think makes you look more sophisticated.

Also, when people (especially on forums like this) are confronted with a huge block of text, it almost automatically generates a TLDR response.

[Tadao]

This is better advice on wrighting that I have ever heard from any teacher in my life. :lol Have you ever considered being a teacher Tadao? I can just picture it now....










all the lawsuits.

Everything would be an oral exam.

[Zomboid]

Yes, yes it does. Regardless, they do have a point. My work does tend to be sprinkled with multiple egregious examples of prose as purple as an emperor's robe, and could be considered more like a Victorian penny-dreadful, which were the male equivalent to cheezy romance novels. I know I'll never be the next Allan Moore, but I do not want to be stuck with the label of the next Stephanie Myer. How exactly does a person clean up purple prose in their works?

1st lesson: Stop being a pretentious little douche.

[The Leader]

Everything would be an oral exam.
:lol

[Sacks]

Blowjobs.

[kahljorn]

whatever guys this is the next most popular movie and you know it.

[ZeldaQueen]

If you're interested in improving your writing techniques, there are loads of websites for people trying to produce works of literature.

My suggestions? First and foremost, make the story your own. Don't try to copy the style of another writer or use a certain style because "oh, it's a romance/comedy/murder/etc novel, it should use this style of writing". Don't try to string it out or make it a certain length. Just get the story down. You can always go back later and flesh parts out if you feel they ought to be bigger.

My second suggestion is to make sure you know your characters and have them developed very well. If you develop your characters enough, they'll almost make their own choices in the story. Also, if you identify with them and understand them more, it will be much easier to figure out what they'll say or do. Finally, balance out your characters' personalities. Don't make everyone perfect. Don't make everyone win. No one likes a Mary Sue.

[Tadao]

YES, SEE HOW WELL IT WORKED FOR HER! SHE IS COMPLETELY WITHOUT HUMOR AND CAN SUCK THE LIFE OUT OF ANY PARTY. YOU SHOULD DO THIS.

[90's Child]

If you're interested in improving your writing techniques, there are loads of websites for people trying to produce works of literature.

My suggestions? First and foremost, make the story your own. Don't try to copy the style of another writer or use a certain style because "oh, it's a romance/comedy/murder/etc novel, it should use this style of writing". Don't try to string it out or make it a certain length. Just get the story down. You can always go back later and flesh parts out if you feel they ought to be bigger.

My second suggestion is to make sure you know your characters and have them developed very well. If you develop your characters enough, they'll almost make their own choices in the story. Also, if you identify with them and understand them more, it will be much easier to figure out what they'll say or do. Finally, balance out your characters' personalities. Don't make everyone perfect. Don't make everyone win. No one likes a Mary Sue.

Actually, the sad part about that first one is that the overblown, florid language I use is sort of my style. The reason I do that is to try to make it very vivid to the reader, not so much to posture at being sophisticated as to try at being vivid and descriptive, but I can see it has backfired and made me look silly.

And I actually do have several character development arcs planned, specifically for the characters Lou; who grows to actually somewhat enjoy his condition, and Ben, who learns to accept his weakness and develop his true strengths. And I do have the personalities for the chracters well-defined, such as Lou being quiet and shy, Ben being very agressive and trying to overcompensate, Timothy as enjoying his condition very much and always being chipper and playful, amongst others.

But enough about that. I am goign to start editing my story now. And hooboy, it needs a lot of editing.

[Kitsa]

The problem with florid and overblown is this (http://encyclopediadramatica.com/Tl%3Bdr).

[ZeldaQueen]

The problem with florid and overblown is this (http://encyclopediadramatica.com/Tl%3Bdr).
Exactly. Just say what you need to say.

If you have more to add in later, you can pull an Orson Scott Card and make multiple versions of the book ala Ender's Game.

[Tadao]

But enough about that. I am goign to start editing my story now. And hooboy, it needs a lot of editing.

I don't agree with editing it. The Jap in me wants to hit you with a bamboo cane.

YOU KNOW THE STORY! REWRITE IT! PRACTICE!

The fluff and stuff helped support the weak pillars. Tear it down and start a new foundation that is free from the virus that spread throughout the paragraphs.

[Tadao]

Practice here.

http://www.i-mockery.com/forum/showthread.php?t=69698895

Keep it short, leave it loose.

[Zomboid]

STOP TRYING TO HELP

[Tadao]

Practice here.

http://www.i-mockery.com/forum/showthread.php?t=69698895

Keep it short, leave it loose.

Nevermind, the idiot in the next quote just ruined the whole thing again because she can't write for shit.

"Like hell I am!" he roared. "Why should I talk to any of you?" He turned to the man to his left. "You're Arnold Schwartzenager. And you," he said to the child on his right "are the weird kid from The Omen." He got a better look at the others. "OH MY GOD!" he screamed, realizing that they were all leading politicians from the past nine years. Sarah Palin turned to him.

When people want to be a part of something and have no talent they try to hard to be funny. Trying to hard is part of what you are going through. The exercise I stated before is set up to train you to not try and let the story flow.

What is the most important part of writing? The story.

Really is a shame though, it would have been a perfect exercise for you. Writing a paragraph every once in a while in which you have to consider the previus people and the future writers. But if you write in there it would only be trash.

[90's Child]

I don't agree with editing it. The Jap in me wants to hit you with a bamboo cane.

YOU KNOW THE STORY! REWRITE IT! PRACTICE!

The fluff and stuff helped support the weak pillars. Tear it down and start a new foundation that is free from the virus that spread throughout the paragraphs.
Dangit. I wish I had read that post before I started editing. :\ And it seems to me that it works a bit better for me to do massive, massive editing rather than rewriting it from scratch, because I seem to work much better with a framework to go upon rather than from scratch.

Well, I posted the 2nd draft of Chapter 1, so take a look and see if anything improved, and what else I need to do the chang it to make it not suck other than removing all the most unweildy and stumbling prose (which I tried to do)

And what weak pillars do you see other than craptastic prose?

[Tadao]

Here is what I mean by weak pillar. Let's just look at 1 paragraph.

It was night, with a full moon dominating the sky, twinkling stars speckled here and there. Lou was in a forest, lush and filled with trees of a beautiful, wild green, scattered throughout the forest floor, the leaves rustling as he moved and the moonlight shining upon his face. He was running through the forest, wearing nothing, moving on his hands and legs like an animal, running in between the trees to and fro, a powerful scent driving him on . Primal, animalistic thoughts ran through his head, thoughts egging him onward, urging him to run. Suddenly, he heard a rustling sound in the distance. He leapt into a patch of bushes to hide, slowly cocking his head out of the bushes to better view his prey. He saw a buck wander out into view, wandering around for some food one would suppose. Hunger tore at Lou’s stomach as he waited, hoping that he could sate it. As the deer drew nearer, he pounced up in the air, every part of his mind eagerly awaiting the feast that would come, every muscle of his body tensed for the kill, ready to slash and bite into it’s flesh and… He woke up.

Now let's break it down to it's basic.

Lou was in the forest under a full moon, running on all 4s lead by the scent of prey. The buck ahead of him never sensed his approach. He leaps into attack undetected, but he wakes up in the middle of it.

That is the pillar you have to work with and it can't handle the weight of descriptive writing. You don't need to make it a big paragraph. I have read many-o two lined paragraphs and thoroughly enjoyed it.

Every one is going to assume the stars are out if it's a full moon. Or maybe they see the full moon under a cloudy sky. Maybe that's what they want to see, why not give them the chance to see the sky they want to see. Does it matter so much if it is full of stars or not? Do the stars form a pattern that is important later in the story and will blow peoples mind because you are being witty? No, you are trying to force the stars on the reader. It will tire the reader from the get go to have to try to imagine exactly what you are telling them and they will automatically not want to read 200 pages more of it. Sure, if it was a poem they would know it will be over shortly and they will finish it.

We are talking about the opening sentence here and all that is important is the full moon! This is why I feel editing it will not work at all and a rewrite is in order.

[90's Child]

Well, actually the main goal of my editing is to do exactly what you said and toss out the annoyingly flowery prose while replacing it with terse but still descriptive prose. I also do agree with your point about the first paragraph, and I will do a complete overhaul to make it say more with less like you say I should. However, I ahve a problem with editing my transformation
sequence(s) (When I edited my first post to place a revised version of Chapter 1 in there, I added a new sequence where he transforms partway to replace an unnecessary exposition paragraph. What do you think of it?)). You see, I kinda think that it needs that detail to help the reader understand how horrible the experience is for the character (Under the rule to show, don't tell) and to get that "American Werewolf in London/body-horror" feel to the transformations. Am I erroneous in my judgement?

Also, I have a dream sequence cooking up for Chapter 4, and I was wondering if you could check and see if it's any better at being less annoyingly flowery. Here it is:

He was at the edge of the forest, the same as he had seen in his dreams for many months now. But something was different. It seemed a little bit brighter, a little bit larger, a little bit warmer, and a little windier. And he too had changed. For his form was not human, but that of a wolf, gigantic and towering, with no human features to speak of. He heard a strange call, a powerful call, the kind of call that goes all the way into the deepest recesses of your mind, the parts that have existed long before the dawn of man. He followed it, through the bushes, through the trees, through the rivers and over the rocks until he found its source. As he stepped into the clearing, he saw something amazing. It was a wolf, a gigantic one at that, about the size of a tractor trailer, with a body whose sinews were like steel. Its fur was dappled in grey and black and silver and gold, and it’s eyes fierce and knowing, the only flaw on the magnificent beast’s composition being a large sliver knife embedded in his left flank. And it was howling at him. As the moonlight flowed over them both, it turned its head to him, and motioned it over to a path that appeared out of nowhere, a path that ran up and towards the moon hanging brightly in the sky. The wolf suddenly bolted into a run towards the path, and somehow Lou knew that he wanted him to follow. He ran towards the path, legs gracefully striding as though he were flying, eyes locked onto the wolf ahead. The wolf was far ahead, but he kept striding forward and slowly he began to catch up with the beautiful creature. As he dashed forward, hearing the wolf’s head, it gave him a look, a look that said “Good job kid, but it’s not over yet”. As they ran together, the moon in front of them grew greater and greater in size as they neared it. As the moon hung right in front of them, oh so very close to their touch, there stood an immense cliff. They ran toward it just the same, paws padding along the ground faster and faster, they jumped and…

What do you think of it?

[Tadao]

I think the point I'm trying to hit on is, less redundancy. There is nothing wrong with descriptive writing, but it is very hard for the writer to know when the reader gets the point already. This one isn't so bad at all if you keep in mind Kitsas TLDR rule. Don't be afraid of shorter paragraphs. It helps people digest the words.

He was at the edge of the forest, the same as he had seen in his dreams for many months now. But something was different. It seemed a little bit brighter, a little bit larger, a little bit warmer, and a little windier. And he too had changed. For his form was not human, but that of a wolf, gigantic and towering, with no human features to speak of.

He heard a strange call, a powerful call, the kind of call that goes all the way into the deepest recesses of your mind, the parts that have existed long before the dawn of man. He followed it, through the bushes, through the trees, through the rivers and over the rocks until he found its source. As he stepped into the clearing, he saw something amazing. It was a wolf, a gigantic one at that, about the size of a tractor trailer, with a body whose sinews were like steel. Its fur was dappled in grey and black and silver and gold, and it’s eyes fierce and knowing, the only flaw on the magnificent beast’s composition being a large sliver knife embedded in his left flank. And it was howling at him.

As the moonlight flowed over them both, it turned its head to him, and motioned it over to a path that appeared out of nowhere, a path that ran up and towards the moon hanging brightly in the sky.

The wolf suddenly bolted into a run towards the path, and somehow Lou knew that he wanted him to follow. He ran towards the path, legs gracefully striding as though he were flying, eyes locked onto the wolf ahead. The wolf was far ahead, but he kept striding forward and slowly he began to catch up with the beautiful creature. As he dashed forward, hearing the wolf’s head, it gave him a look, a look that said “Good job kid, but it’s not over yet”. As they ran together, the moon in front of them grew greater and greater in size as they neared it.

As the moon hung right in front of them, oh so very close to their touch, there stood an immense cliff. They ran toward it just the same, paws padding along the ground faster and faster, they jumped and…

[kahljorn]

maybe yo u should try i dont know reading a book or two that doesn't suck before you start trying to write.

JUST A SUGGESTION.

[90's Child]

I think the point I'm trying to hit on is, less redundancy. There is nothing wrong with descriptive writing, but it is very hard for the writer to know when the reader gets the point already. This one isn't so bad at all if you keep in mind Kitsas TLDR rule. Don't be afraid of shorter paragraphs. It helps people digest the words.

He was at the edge of the forest, the same as he had seen in his dreams for many months now. But something was different. It seemed a little bit brighter, a little bit larger, a little bit warmer, and a little windier. And he too had changed. For his form was not human, but that of a wolf, gigantic and towering, with no human features to speak of.

He heard a strange call, a powerful call, the kind of call that goes all the way into the deepest recesses of your mind, the parts that have existed long before the dawn of man. He followed it, through the bushes, through the trees, through the rivers and over the rocks until he found its source. As he stepped into the clearing, he saw something amazing. It was a wolf, a gigantic one at that, about the size of a tractor trailer, with a body whose sinews were like steel. Its fur was dappled in grey and black and silver and gold, and it’s eyes fierce and knowing, the only flaw on the magnificent beast’s composition being a large sliver knife embedded in his left flank. And it was howling at him.

As the moonlight flowed over them both, it turned its head to him, and motioned it over to a path that appeared out of nowhere, a path that ran up and towards the moon hanging brightly in the sky.

The wolf suddenly bolted into a run towards the path, and somehow Lou knew that he wanted him to follow. He ran towards the path, legs gracefully striding as though he were flying, eyes locked onto the wolf ahead. The wolf was far ahead, but he kept striding forward and slowly he began to catch up with the beautiful creature. As he dashed forward, hearing the wolf’s head, it gave him a look, a look that said “Good job kid, but it’s not over yet”. As they ran together, the moon in front of them grew greater and greater in size as they neared it.

As the moon hung right in front of them, oh so very close to their touch, there stood an immense cliff. They ran toward it just the same, paws padding along the ground faster and faster, they jumped and…
Thanks. By the way, have you ever considered trying to become an editor or a creative writing teacher. Because, I must say, you certainly have the skills at constructive criticism to do so.

And also, I just re-wrote that first dream sequence, and I just wanted to show it to you. Here it is:
It was a beautiful night in the forest, trees towering towards the sky and a full moon hanging in the air. The boy was wearing nothing, running on hands and feet, eyes aglow with the call of the hunt, following a scent on the wind. He heard the rustle of leaves and hid as a deer stepped into the clearing. His body tensed, every muscle prepared to slash into the deer’s hide and taste of its sweet, sweet flesh. He jumped up, lunged and…
He woke up.

So, what do ya think?

Also, what's your opinion on the transformation sequences? Are they any good, or too redundant?

[kahljorn]

DO WOLVES WITH KNIVES IN THEIR FLANKS RUN REALLY FAST?

CANT YOU LIKE DRAW US INTO HIS FEELINGS AND WHATS GOING ON? WHAT THE HELLS GOING ON?

BASICALLY WHAT IM READING IS THIS:
THE GUYS A WOLF AND WOLVES SEE FORESTS AS WARM AND WIDE.
HE HEARD A "CALL" THAT DOES THINGS TO HIM
HE FOLLOWS IT AND FINDS WOLF-THAT-RUNS-WITH-KNIVES-IN-LEG (HIS NATIVE AMERICAN NAME I ASSUME)
HE FOLLOWED THE WOLF WHO MAKES EXPRESSIONS AND THE FIRST WOLF UNDERSTANDS HIM AS THOUGH HE WERE SOME GUYS FATHER.

IN SOME OTHER PART OF THE BOOK THERES A DREAM THAT HE WAKES UP FROM.

ARE THOSE THE MESSAGES YOU WANT TO BE SENDING TO PEOPLE?

HOPEFULLY IM NOT CONTRADICTING TADAO AND MAKING THIS CONFUSING FOR YOU.

[Zomboid]

GIVE UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!

[Tadao]

Thanks. By the way, have you ever considered trying to become an editor or a creative writing teacher. Because, I must say, you certainly have the skills at constructive criticism to do so.

And also, I just re-wrote that first dream sequence, and I just wanted to show it to you. Here it is:


So, what do ya think?

Also, what's your opinion on the transformation sequences? Are they any good, or too redundant?

I hate people too much to sit in a room with them for too long.

The re-write is good, You have room to flesh it out a little more if you wanted but as far as openig go, the hardest part is for a read to open at page one and get orientated. I would keep it as it is. That is the first paragraph in the first chapter right? Once the story starts rolling is when you can start rambling more.

Paste the transformation paragraph for me, I didn't read most of it because it hurt too much :lol

[Kitsa]

I think another place where you might be going wrong is that you're taking yourself wayyyyyy too seriously.

[90's Child]

I hate people too much to sit in a room with them for too long.

The re-write is good, You have room to flesh it out a little more if you wanted but as far as openig go, the hardest part is for a read to open at page one and get orientated. I would keep it as it is. That is the first paragraph in the first chapter right? Once the story starts rolling is when you can start rambling more.

Paste the transformation paragraph for me, I didn't read most of it because it hurt too much

Well, there are actually two of them, and I'll post both of them for you right here.
“Oh dear lord what is wrong with me?” That is what Lou thought as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He felt a lurch in his stomach as it started to happen again. What “ït” was he did not know, but it was horrible, that much he knew. Everything in his body was pulsating, his body erupting in brief, intense bursts of pain. His skin was stretching, his muscles were stretching, and even his bones were stretching. He couldn’t let them see him like this, anyone, he couldn’t tell them at all. Not Cell, not Clarisse, no-one could know about what degeneration was happening to him. That is what he thought as he scrabbled into a stall to keep people from seeing him. His skin burnt as shocks of something erupted in patches and his breathing became harder and harder as his body warped. His green eyes dilated and drips and drabs of blood fell from his fingertips as something barely poked out from underneath them. How long would he be able to keep this charade of wellness up, weeks? Months? Years? And what, what in gods name would be the end result? But then, it all went away. The pulsation, the pain, the changing, everything stopped. But Lou knew it wouldn’t be for long.
A bit of explaination for this first sequence is in order. I got the idea fro mthis werewolf forum I belong to (long story), and one guy mentioned how a werewolf might change partially several times in the weeks before the full transformation at the full moon. And I thought, "Oh man, wouldn't that be incredibly horrifying if that was happening to you and you had no idea why?". So I added that concept to my story'. Whether I succeeded in doing it well is up to you.
It was horrific. Slowly, something terrible started happen to him. What had occured before was merely a prelude, a quiet introduction to a grotesque song of flesh and blood. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t. The pain was too much, all Lou could do was curl up into a little ball in a futile effort to stop this transformation, or at least quiet his body’s screams of torment, as Cell looked on in horror. All that could be heard was the sound of bones clacking and snapping against each other and the quiet sobbing of Louis. Cell could see the fur growing like a wildfire blazing out from his skin, feeling as if a wave of needles were pushing out of his body, covering everything. His skin was being stretched like as the bones extended against it to accommodate their new form while the skin tried to catch up as shudders of pain wracked through his frame. Cell could see the beginnings of claws pushing out of his fingertips, drawing out small spurts of blood as they pushed themselves out of the fingernails. Cell could see his muscles swelling against his bathrobe, making it tighter, tighter, until it gave way to the stress and ripped like a tissue to expose the thick coat of fur slowly growing on his skin. Jutting rows of sharp teeth pushed their way out of his mouth, although now it was more of a muzzle, as it slowly elongated while he was trying to scream. His ears slowly pushed, jutted out and moved up his head. The worst part of it though was the fear in Lou’s face. Cell could see that Lou was scared, having no idea what was going on and horrified at what was happening to him. He was weeping bitter tears as his body warped and twisted, futilely attempting to scream. Cell could see him vaguely mouth the words “Help me.” as the atrocious change reached it’s climax.

So Tadao, how exactly might I make those sequences better and more impactful for the reader?

And by the way Kitsa, how might I fix the problem of me taking myself way too seriously?

[Kitsa]

http://blogs.psychologytoday.com/blog/brainstorm/200803/self-deprecation-is-people-skill

If that doesn't help, I don't know what more I can do :/

[Misdemonar]

"Oh man, wouldn't that be incredibly furry if that was happening to you and you had no idea why?".

MORE LIKE WOULDN'T THAT BE INCREDIBLY RETARDED.

[90's Child]

http://blogs.psychologytoday.com/blog/brainstorm/200803/self-deprecation-is-people-skill

If that doesn't help, I don't know what more I can do :/
Good point. To be quite frank, I really do not consider myself a good writer, and I don't really hold my writing to that much esteem. I'm just some young idiot trying to become one, like a sad little caterpillar trying to become a butterfly. But sadly I am only a mellodramatic moth. And yet I move onward.
[/size][/font][/color]

MORE LIKE WOULDN'T THAT BE INCREDIBLY RETARDED.
Please, please, please die in fire. I mean, you are one of the most horrible gentlemen (And I use that term loosely) that I have ever met. I mean, in criticising my work Tadao at least tries to help me improve, but you, you're just a dick. And I'm not alone in my opinion. When I mentioned your criticism to ROG, he said not to listen to you because you are an asshole. And so, fly away like a pretty birdie, fly away straight into an airplane turbine!

Seriously, is it possible to ban someone for just being an asshole? Because, if so, I think that Misdemonar fits the criteria for it.

Oh and by the way, despite the fact that I like werewolves I AM NOT A FUCKING FURRY!

[Misdemonar]

OH GEE ITS THE INTERNET PAL

[Tadao]

SCAM! IT'S THE COPPERS!

[Kitsa]

maybe yo u should try i dont know reading a book or two that doesn't suck before you start trying to write.

JUST A SUGGESTION.

Kahl has an excellent point. Reading well-written books gives you an innate feel for what "sounds right" and what doesn't.

[Sacks]

Please, please, please die in fire. I mean, you are one of the most horrible gentlemen (And I use that term loosely) that I have ever met. I mean, in criticising my work Tadao at least tries to help me improve, but you, you're just a dick. And I'm not alone in my opinion. When I mentioned your criticism to ROG, he said not to listen to you because you are an asshole. And so, fly away like a pretty birdie, fly away straight into an airplane turbine!

Seriously, is it possible to ban someone for just being an asshole? Because, if so, I think that Misdemonar fits the criteria for it.

So just because someone was mean to you on the internet they deserve a slow and painful death? What a fascist. We don't like fascists around here Johnathan Wojcik!

[Tadao]

I expected a very descriptive burning of human flesh.

[90's Child]

So just because someone was mean to you on the internet they deserve a slow and painful death? What a fascist. We don't like fascists around here Johnathan Wojcik!
Right. I was overreacting a bit. And by a bit I mean a horribleload.

Anyway, Tadao, what did you think of the transformation sequences? God I am bad about purple prose.

[Sacks]

I think you should stop using the term 'purple prose'.

[Pub Lover]

Purple prose of the languid penis. :wank

[Tadao]

I think there is nothing more I can do for you. Yeah I can criticize your writing forever, but that won't accomplish anything. Just have fun and practice short stories. I've only improved by writing, not by asking.

[kahljorn]

FOR ROMANCE NOVEL MATERIAL THIS IS MEDIOCRE ENOUGH TO PASS :(.
MAYBE

YOU NEED MORE WEREWOLF RAPE/SEDUCTION SCENES

[Kitsa]

Also, and this is just my personal opinion...

Starting a sentence with the word "for" is one of the most irritating and stilted practices I see popping up in this kind of writing. I cringe when I see it.

[kahljorn]

USE A SEMICOLON
SEMICOLONS CURE EVERYthing

[Zomboid]

I AM IN SCHOOL FOR WRITING AND YOUR "STYLE" OF WRITING IS WHAT WE LIKE TO CALL "SHIT."

PLEASE GIVE UP FOREVER.

[Kitsa]

I've decided that I want the degree-diplomas of all graduating journalism/writing majors to be embossed with a seal that says APPARENTLY I FANCY MYSELF A WRITER NOW.

I was totally going to make one for illustrative purposes, but the seal generator's been down for two days.

[Dimnos]

http://u3a1ma.blu.livefilestore.com/y1peZm0NW52PJ7dGhfk1L0MGKUZDtTSsiKF-Az9E8s8YvjzU8IwZsKR1JY4gpYmJ9dq_FmzAvlNM-ZW_Ge-gTj801V5WD7u2g4R/Wordage.bmp

[Zhukov]

Road Island?

Also, I may be wrong here, and I know it's in his name, but shouldn't there be no apostrophe in 90's? This is more for my own future refrence than attacking anyone.

[Big McLargehuge]

you're right, no apostrophes in decades.

[Tadao]

Not even when 1990 is showing ownership?

[Big McLargehuge]

nope never

[Big McLargehuge]

cause time can't own anything

[Tadao]

Good old English.

[Tadao]

Well, I know that the 80s owned everyone.

[Dimnos]

I believe they spell your name however you spell your name. :rolleyes

[Zomboid]

you're right, no apostrophes in decades.

Fuck. I knew that Chicago Manual of Style would come in handy, but I already packed it away for the summer :(

I think you're right though; no apostrophes in decades.

[kahljorn]

ACTUALLY DIMNOS IS CORRECT :ROLLEYES

BIGMCLARGEHUGE BRINGS UP AN INTERESTING POINT THOUGH :(

[Dimnos]

BIGMCLARGEHUGE BRINGS UP AN INTERESTING POINT THOUGH :(

About what? Time not being able to own things?

Well, I know that the 80s owned everyone.

[kahljorn]

Yes. CLEARLY TADAO IS CREATING SOME TYPE OF LOGICAL FALLACY.

MOST LIKELY EQUIVOCATION :ROLLEYES

OR PERHAPS, YOU SIR, ARE THE ONE EQUIVOCATING.