forum Virtual Creative Writing Club, anyone?

Started July 06, 2019 by @ninja_violinist

tune

A scene from my favourite movie that I can’t get out of my head and decided to write, sorry it’s so long. Little bit of context, this is 17 year old Neil who played the lead in a play against his father’s wishes, his father who wants him to be a doctor. Mr. Keating is the teacher who encouraged Neil’s pursuit of acting, Todd is Neil’s roommate/best friend/not canon boyfriend, and Charlie/Stephen/Pitts/Cameron are Neil’s best friends. Also “the crown” is a wreath of sticks and berries that was a part of his costume. This scene is after the play when Neil’s dad made him come home straight after the play and plans to send him to a new school before sending him off to medical school. The italics are quotes from the movie. TW for suicide.

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The sound of the window sliding open brings me back. I realize I’m on my feet and looking out at the field. It looks blue. The snow and the moonlight make it seem eerie and beautiful. The cold wind on my bare skin brings a welcome sharpness, refreshing and a bit painful. I need more.
Before me lies the crown. Hours before it had held me up, lost in some frenzy of joy, Todd’s breathless smile glowing from the crowd. It didn’t even take me a second to find him in all those people. He looked so proud of me.
I was good. I was really good.
Then my father walked in and I was so sure, standing there with my arms across my chest, that his face would break into a smile and he’d give me a little bit of pride. But he couldn’t bear to let me know that I had done well. Nothing was good, to him, nothing that I could love could be good. Not the yearbook, not the acting. Not Todd.
I tune back into my body to find the crown being held in front of me, its sticks digging into my skin and my knuckles turning white. It’s painful; I need more. I set the crown on my head and the crowd flashes before my eyes, cheering, Charlie screaming on his feet, Mr Keating looking moved. Moved. I moved Mr Keating to tears. He brought me so much.
The weight of the crown is comfortable and reassuring. I never want to take it off. I can't live without it. I’m coming to realize there’s nothing left for me in the world. Nothing I won’t have to wait a lifetime for.
The thought of manuals and empty dorms and dead bodies for years to come fills me with such a rage that I can't describe. Todd could find the words. Maybe the sweaty-toothed madman has found me at last.
The cold and the panic have taken my breath away. The crown has grown uncomfortable. Everything is too much, so much, and I cannot contain the future I'm supposed to live in. I won’t even be able to say goodbye. He wants to send me off tomorrow.
I won’t even be able to say goodbye. The crown comes off and I step back and the feeling starts to come back. It hits me so hard, right in the chest, that I think I might hurl. I can’t live with this feeling for another ten years. Not for them, the two people sleeping a few feet away, not for anyone.
I’m at my door. My hand on the doorknob- the doorknob is cold. I left the window open. I look back, but don’t move. They’ll have to come in here to close the window. Good for them. I open the door.
One step. Two steps, three, four, to the top of the staircase. There is complete silence outside me, but my head screams so loudly that even a gunshot could not be heard over it.
My feet land soft and silent on the steps. Is this how Todd feels? So careful and scared? Does he live with this dread every day? I wish there was more I could have done for him.
As the floor at the end of the steps grows closer I realise the things I'm leaving behind. I promised Charlie he’d be the best man at my wedding. I promised Cameron the guys would learn to love him. I promised Stephen and Pitts that I’d buy them a cassette tape. I promised Todd- everything. I promised him everything in my mind. Never to his face.
I’m trapped.
Maybe Keating senses what’s happening. Maybe his artistic sensibility is alerting him to the dizzy hurricane pounding in my head. Maybe he’s wishing I could turn back. I have nowhere to turn back to.
The slats of the ground floor are even colder than the open window was. I stand for a moment, aware of my body, my hair against my forehead, the spot where the branches lay against my head. My cold feet, my bare chest, my pounding heart.
The shadows part ahead of me and the open study door winks in the darkness. It’s almost welcoming. I push it open and step inside. So rarely has my father let me come in here. This room is his life. It was supposed to be mine. It isn't. It won't be.
I circle to the desk and feel him, sitting night after night, working through documents and numbers and work that I don't think he enjoys. Maybe this will help him move on from that.
I sit down in his chair and almost feel his hand on my shoulder. You know much this means to your mother. Everything. It means everything.
The silhouette of the key stands out against the dark wood desk. I take it in my hand, run the sharp grooves over my fingers. The key fits perfectly into the lock. Even after all these years this desk still serves perfectly. Not for much longer, I think, I hope.
The drawer opens with a creak and I pause to listen, to stare. My heart starts to wail and still they don’t wake up. I thought part of me wanted them to wake up. It doesn’t. I slide my hand under the heavy white cloth, set it in front of me, peel it open.
Sleek and beautiful, it stares at me. I’m almost free. I wrap my steady hand around the handle, the trigger, and lift. It’s heavy and brings me fully into my body. The realization of what I’m doing is very nearby, but lingering just out of reach. Maybe it wants to see what happens if I pull the trigger.
I point my father’s gun at the study door. I could blow open this barrier between us. I point it at the window. I could destroy, express my grief, make myself heard. But exhaustion overtakes me and my hold falters. There are no more lies for me to tell myself.
One last face pops into my head, huddled into a corner with a book, staring at me desperately, needing what I tried so hard to give him. He can keep it.
I lift the gun once more, point it carefully. Settle the barrel carefully against my temple. It presses my hair against my skin. I use the barrel to push my hair out of the way and press the cold metal against the delicate spot I know is fatal. Not a shiver, not a shake in my body, and my head fills with sound.

Hnn I know this is kinda dead but I wanted a little feedback, maybe?? Anyways it feels clunky to me but I can't name why exactly. T/W for death and suicide by proxy
Also some background, bc this is literally the ending scene of the story (have I written the rest of the story? no i fucking haven't lmaoo) but anyways: Tomas is a werewolf. In the current political climate, werewolves have been discriminated against for years. There's a rebellion, which Tomas was part of at one time, but they kicked him out because he was too radical. The ends justify the means kind of guy, who doesn't shy away from killing innocents in order to kill one guilty man. He's a person made out of shades of grey and has absolutely no sense of black and white. He just doesn't care about collateral damage like at all. Anyways. Kora is fully human, and at one point he was going to kill her. She fought back, scarring his collarbone, and they've since become best friends. Tomas met Lauren, and they fell in love despite everything he's done. He married her, and she is currently pregnant. Jax and Murphy are two other friends of his. Tomas is about 26, by the way. He's been hunted for a long time now, but the net is closing and if he's caught, the government will make an example of him and use him as a reason to continue to discriminate against werewolves

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They had been running and running, and they were running out of energy. Tomas twisted in his saddle, firing at the bounty hunter that was gaining on them. Too soon, his pistol gave a click, signalling it was empty, and he cursed, stuffing it back in his holster and trying to get his horse to go faster. If they couldn’t get away from this bounty hunter, then he would be brought back to the capital to face a twisted version of justice. Everyone knew werewolves didn’t get true justice, but a wolf like him? A rebel and a radical with an ocean of blood on his hands? It would be a mockery of a trial and nothing more.

His horse, exhausted, couldn’t give him any more speed. The bounty hunter’s horse was fresher and she was gaining, and Tom glanced around at his little group. Kora, Jax, and Murphy. They would be going to prison too, for aiding and abetting a criminal. Even Kora, a pure-blood human, wouldn’t walk free from this. None of them would.

"Tom!” Jax roared. The youngest of the group, Jax was in front, and his horse suddenly wheeled as he rode back to them. “It’s a dead end.”

Tom paled, glancing back at the bounty hunter. “No. It can’t be. I’ve traveled this road before.” to their left was a drop-off straight to the sea, the bottom of the cliff sharp rocks covered in a thin sheen of water. It wasn’t a survivable jump. To their right was a steep mountainside, also unclimbable.

“Landslide.” Jax replied, seeming to realize the same thing Tom had already figured out. “Shit. We’re trapped.”

Tom jerked his chin in a sharp nod. They rounded a bend, and they all yanked back on the reins as they came to the landslide. Tom stared up at it, amber eyes flickering shut as he realized there was no way they could all climb it fast enough to escape. He swallowed, wheeling his horse to watch the oncoming rider.

"Get off the horses.” he ordered, getting off of his own and leading it over to the mountainside, tying the reins to a bush. “We’ll face her on foot.”

The other three obeyed, before gathering near him.

"Is this a last stand?” Murphy asked, white-faced. “Are we going to die?”

Tom pressed his lips together. “Maybe.” he didn’t want to discourage the others, but…they wouldn’t all make it out alive. That simply wasn’t possible. He checked his pockets, then swore. He was out of ammunition completely, not just in the pistol. He pulled the useless weapon from the holster, holding it in his left hand and his knife in his right. “We’re going to lure her in. Get her off the horse and get in close. Those pistols aren't of any use if we’re too close.”

They gathered, spreading out as the bounty hunter rode up and slowed, her pistols drawn and her horse prancing nervously. “Tomas Selvar?” she asked, eyes finding him.

He inclined his head, and spread his lips, flashing sharp canines. “Yeah, that’s me. Come on off that horse, miss hunter.”

She narrowed her eyes, eyes flickering to where he held his gun like a club, and a laugh tore from her. “Out of ammunition? Tomas Selvar, the revolutionary, radical, murderer, out of ammunition?”

He tipped his chin up, but didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. She knew that he was out.

She climbed off the horse, letting go of the reins as it headed over to be with theirs, a herd instinct taking over. Also, he scared a lot of horses, because they didn’t like the scent of wolf. “Tomas Selvar, you’re under arrest for murder, incitement of insurrection, threats, and…other things.”

He curled his lip. “What, you don’t even know everything I need to be arrested for?” he asked, taking a step closer to her.

She raised her pistols, pointing them both square at his chest. “I know enough, you filthy fucking dog.” she snarled.

He growled, taking another step. “You aren’t going to shoot me. You know why?” he paused for a moment, lips curling in a mocking smile. “Because that bounty pays less if you bring me in dead. They want me alive.”

She shifted her aim. “You don’t need two working legs, Selvar. Not for the bounty.”

He went still, tipping his head at her. His eyes found Kora, where she had been creeping around the bounty hunter’s side, and his chin twitched in a nod. She leapt forward, grabbing the pistols and yanking them upwards. Both went off, the bullets sailing harmlessly into the air. At the same moment, Tomas charged, leaping at the bounty hunter and raising his club of a pistol, slamming the butt of it down onto her skull. Once, twice, three times, until she fell to the ground with blood streaming from her temple. He stood over her, chest rising and falling with harsh breaths, face twisted in rage.

"Tom, did you kill her?” Kora asked, and he looked over at her. He shook his head faintly.

"She’s unconscious. I think.” he replied, stepping back. He didn’t care if she was dead or not, but he knew Kora did. Sure, most of the time he didn’t care, but Kora had softened him a little. He still killed, but he was a little more careful not to kill without reason now. Not, he thought, that that mattered for long. He could heard the faraway clatter of more horses, and knew that they were done for.

He brushed a hand against the wedding ring that hung from a chain around his neck, thinking of Lauren and their child, yet to be born. “Kora.” he said, holding out the bounty hunter’s pistol to her. He was exhausted from running and fighting, his arms shaky and tired, his legs unable to support him for too long. “I can’t…I need you to shoot me.”

She had already taken the pistol, but drew back, eyes round in horror. “What? Tomas, no.” she said, shaking her head again. “No, no. We can still…”

"We can’t.” he breathed. “You know that. There are too many coming. I want…if I die in a shootout, Lauren won’t get…she won’t get anything. If they take me away, I…I can’t rot in their prison, and I refuse to let them make an example out of me. Please, Kora. If you shoot me, my face will still be…recognizable, and no one will be able to claim that it’s not really me. If I shoot myself, my head will be so mangled that…” he trailed off.

Kora shook her head again. He could see tears pricking at her eyes. “Tomas, Tomas, please don’t make me do this.”

"You have the steadiest hands,” he whispered. “And I trust you.” he took a step closer to her, lifting the barrel of the gun and pressing it to his temple, leaning into it as he met her gaze. “Please, Kora. Tell Lauren that…tell Lauren that I love her, and…and tell her to tell our child the truth about me. What I did. Who I was.”

Kora was trembling, but she held the gun, finger hovering near the trigger. “Please, Tomas. I can’t. You’re my best friend and I love you, please.”

His mouth quirked faintly. “You wouldn’t have said that a year ago.” he thought of the scar that arched along his collarbone, where she had tried to kill him. In her defense, he had tried to kill her first.

She let out a sound that was half sob, half laugh. “A year ago, we hated each other’s guts.”

He nodded faintly, the gun still resting against his temple. “Yeah.” he could hear the hoofbeats coming closer, and he swallowed. “Please, Kora. Do it. It’s okay. It’s okay. Please.”

Tears ran down her cheeks. “No, no, Tomas, Tomas.”

"Please,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I love you, Kora. Please. I don’t want to die at their hands. It’s okay.” he kept looking her in the eyes, gaze soft and trusting, amber eyes clear.

She sniffled faintly, rubbing her eyes with the heel of one of her hands, before it returned to steadying the pistol. The cool metal pressed harder against his temple. “I’ll tell Lauren.” she breathed. “I’m so sorry, Tom.” he kept looking her in the eyes as she cocked the pistol. He saw her finger twitch, and before he had time to process what it meant, the world went black.

@Icefire
How come my writing is so much worse than everyone on here's?! T . T SO GOOD. You skillfully displayed the two characters past and relation smoothly and had such beautiful description with the events, settings, likewise. I would go through it once more if you are going to use this for something, and just see if you can find improved ways to say things that will add to the story. An example might be… "…he thought of the scar that arched along his collarbone, where she had tried to kill him…" to "he thought of the scar that arched along his collarbone, the very spot where she had struck what seemed like so long ago." ack that's no good but I hope you get what I mean. Little details can improve so much.

dngkbsjb thank you! Yeah, little details are probably what's tripping me up. It just…feels clunky to me for some reasom? Maybe it's because I haven't written the rest of the story yet and so it has nowhere to go lmao

@Icefire
I know the feeling. I'm sure you'll get through it. This is a great start.

@izzyandviolins
first of all I really love the lore and worldbuilding you manage to pack into realtively short space!! especially the fates one feels so?? rich and creative and full of background, just from the bit we got to read, which is really cool! Your writing style also has a lyrical and contemplative quality, which really fits to the subject matter - like "my hope began to rise. Silencing it, and sending it tumbling back to the ground again, I opened my eyes without looking back."
One thing to maybe keep an eye on is pacing/timing - the ending of the Fate one can feel a bit abrupt, switching from past to present pretty quickly within the same paragraph. generally I'd recommend having such big time jumps in a new paragraph.
but yeah. These were really cool to read, thanks so much for sharing!

@Yamatsu
whoa the style here is really intense and I'm here for it!! It feels like an introduction to a huge epic of sorts, and the prose matches that perfectly! The listing of "song, oration, the crunch of gravel beneath horse hooves, the explosions of distant, dying stars, all of these things are made possible through my god" especially stands out!
I did notice that the first paragraph feels slightly disconnected from the other two? I can't quite tell if it's the same narrator, but I'm assuming that's more due to my lack of context than anything else.
I really love this overall!! very cool concept, very nice execution, thanks for sharing!!

@amber_is_in_a_loop
this is just. wow. super super well constructed, with a great mastery of tenses and flashbacks and general pacing. but like. the motif of the crown??? the exact choice of details in description that give such a specific sense of tone and atmosphere?? the structure that reflects the desperation in the narration??? the repetition of "everything"? I'm unwell
minor minor nitpick, I'm really reaching here, but "I tune back into my body to find the crown being held in front of me, its sticks digging into my skin and my knuckles turning white" feels slightly awkward if I squint? like I totally get what you're saying, but it might work better reworded?
but yeah this is. really really well-done, thank you for letting us read it!!

@Icefire
oooh I really love this!!! the tension builds up very nicely, with excellent pacing and a nice variation in sentence structure. the dialogue feels super intense and gives enough away without feeling like an exposition dump. so generally this is really well-crafted!!
Honestly I'm not seeing much clunkiness myself? but some things you could maybe try are: a) adding some more transition words like as, therefore, because, but, etc. as a way of further connecting thoughts and paragraphs with each other or b) finding a motif, phrase, or structure to repeat or c) reviewing how sequential things are - do effects generally follow causes? if that's the case, where could you switch up the order to emphasise certain details even more?
of course that's all subjective and stuff like repetition can also depend on stuff that comes before and after, so you can see if any of that works for you. but in general this is really great, thanks so much for sharing!!

and prompts!

music: Edward Walton's Sibelius from this year's Menuhin competition!!

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image: "Bubble Bunny Underworld" by Sylvia Ritter

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words: from "Dear Dr. Frankenstein" by Jericho Brown

I, too, know the science of building men
Out of fragments in little light
Where I'll be damned if lightning don't

Strike as I forget one
May have a thief's thumb,

Another, a murderer's arm,
And watch the men I've made leave
Like an idea I meant to write down

@Icefire
oooh I really love this!!! the tension builds up very nicely, with excellent pacing and a nice variation in sentence structure. the dialogue feels super intense and gives enough away without feeling like an exposition dump. so generally this is really well-crafted!!
Honestly I'm not seeing much clunkiness myself? but some things you could maybe try are: a) adding some more transition words like as, therefore, because, but, etc. as a way of further connecting thoughts and paragraphs with each other or b) finding a motif, phrase, or structure to repeat or c) reviewing how sequential things are - do effects generally follow causes? if that's the case, where could you switch up the order to emphasise certain details even more?
of course that's all subjective and stuff like repetition can also depend on stuff that comes before and after, so you can see if any of that works for you. but in general this is really great, thanks so much for sharing!!

Thank you!! Yeah I see what you mean, thank you!

@izzyandviolins
first of all I really love the lore and worldbuilding you manage to pack into realtively short space!! especially the fates one feels so?? rich and creative and full of background, just from the bit we got to read, which is really cool! Your writing style also has a lyrical and contemplative quality, which really fits to the subject matter - like "my hope began to rise. Silencing it, and sending it tumbling back to the ground again, I opened my eyes without looking back."
One thing to maybe keep an eye on is pacing/timing - the ending of the Fate one can feel a bit abrupt, switching from past to present pretty quickly within the same paragraph. generally I'd recommend having such big time jumps in a new paragraph.
but yeah. These were really cool to read, thanks so much for sharing!

eee thank youuuu

I stared in awe at the underground cave with its black rabbits, each wearing its own bubble helmet. Really, it was more of an underground river, simply with an aboveground entrance and a tall ceiling. Lilypads of all sizes dotted the water, red coral lined the edges of the river where it touched the cave's sides, and seaweed and barnacles littered the sides of the cave all the way up to the top. Some of the rabbits leapt from lilypad to lilypad, while others sat and seemed to watch the scenery with friends or family. Others, still, flew into the air riding the glowing jellyfish that lit up the whole cave as if it were daytime.

A loud honking startled me out of my thoughts, and I blinked once before glancing down at my feet where the noise had come from. Oh – it was my traveling companion, who I'd named Raven. "Alright, alright, I'm coming, I'm coming," I told them, smiling at the cute lil rabbit that sat at my feet.

I looked up to see the path ahead of me, and gazed longingly at the glowing white door that awaited me in the distance. "I guess that's our way out of here, huh? No more guessing around what awaits us next or what we're allowed to eat and drink, back up to the surface we go… hopefully," I said to Raven, starting to walk again. "I'm sorry that we had to leave your home so soon, though. It's truly a beautiful place. If you have friends or family here, though, do you want to say hi to them before we go?"

Raven stared at me and growled, clearly annoyed.

"…I'll take that as a no, then."

I sighed once, before picking up my pace a bit. "Well, if there's no reason for us to linger, let's go then – to the surface we come!"

uhmmmm
yes
idfk what i just wrote but yea
a bit of forced inspiration but yee

Greetings to any that read this. I’m new to this website, and chats like this in general, but I saw the prompt above, the bubble rabbits, and couldn’t resist. I typically write long, dark, and graphic stories, so fair warning.
If possible, I wouldn’t mind some feedback, on pretty much anything about this little story below. Writing technique, the story itself, whatever. I am always eager to improve my writing.
I’ll be using my character, Lucitius, who is, simply put, unique. He is the main character of one of my sagas, a drāckonian (reptilian/draconic humanoid), and is technically a demigod of sorts, but he is functionally insane and devoted to preserving his race. He is also afraid of his powerful abilities, so he avoids using his more powerful talents unless given reason to.
Context: Lucitius had been wandering around in a forest, exploring and seeking something to do. He ends up falling into a hole and passes out, waking in a cavern with no visible exit.
———
Lucitius woke to a pounding headache. He slowly sat up, leaning against a nearby rock. As his blurred vision cleared, he realized that he sat in a cavern, a strange and lively one at that.

Through the center of the cavern, a river lazily flowed, exotic glowing plants growing in and out of it. Lilypads, set in a strange orderly pattern, as if coaxed, were scattered about the river, a miniature path. Above, glowing lichen beamed, revealing numerous floating jellyfish, steeds for what seemed to be the primary inhabitants, small black rabbits with odd bubble helmets.

Lucitius blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating. The strange plants could explain that. Yet, he doubted that possibility for a reason he couldn’t quite discern.

The rabbits hopped about, seeming oblivious to his presence, riding their jellyfish mounts with ease. What was this place? What madness had fallen upon Lucitius to see such a strange little world?

He groaned and leaned back as the headache continued to pound. He rubbed his temple, noticing blood had dribbled down. He followed the trail, noting a gash on the top of his head. How did that get there?

Lucitius glanced up at the ceiling, but found no signs of a tunnel that could explain how he had gotten hurt, or even how he came to be in a cavern. Magic? Technology? Or just a strange occurrence caused by the exotic life in front of him?

He looked down at the river and noticed a rabbit had stopped, staring at him with its dark little eyes. It seemed well aware of his presence, even of his wound. Was this rabbit just a simple creature or was it a true sentient being?

The rabbit turned away, watching, waiting. A few moments passed, then it hopped away. Lucitius sighed.

He reached up and gently examined the wound once more, summoning healing magic. A dim golden glow appeared and the wound knitted itself together. However, the glow seemed to interact with the cavern, and every rabbit stopped, turning to examine him.

Well, that wasn’t a good sign.

Lucitius stopped using the spell, but the glow remained, showing his location like a beacon. He needed to leave!

Lucitius started to stand, but he slipped on the surprisingly slick surface of the rock he had been against. It hadn’t been slick a few seconds ago!

Lucitius glanced around, noting the slow approach of every rabbit in sight. What diabolical genius had created such innocent, yet menacing creatures as this? Or was it nature itself that had done this?

Lucitius managed to claw his way to his feet, searching around for an escape. He noticed a tunnel on the other side of the river and teleported. He regretted that immediately, as every rabbit in a ten foot radius along his path now covered him, digging and pulling at him, reaching for any sore spots or wounds.

Lucitius cried out in pain as one found the gash in his head and he stumbled, falling into the river. A bright flash of light blinded Lucitius and stole his consciousness. The last thing he remembered was the sensation of little feet pulling him along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucitius woke to the sound of soothing music. He lay on a table, maybe an altar, a rabbit sitting on a jellyfish floating above him. He sat up, his headache gone.

The jellyfish darted to the side, moving lower. The rabbit watched him, its beady eyes never moving.

Lucitius scrutinized the rabbit, wondering if he could simply apologize and leave, or kill this one and escape. Somehow though, he knew he could not. Somehow, he knew he was in far more danger now than he had been when he first woke in the cavern.

The rabbit tapped the jellyfish with a paw and it moved away, leading Lucitius’ eyes to a nearby window. He stood and looked out, his eyes widening.

Below him, stretching many miles, a massive cave beamed with the glowing plants. A lake rested in the center of the cave, a tall tree reached upward from it, seeming to hold the cave ceiling.

“‘Tis beautiful.”,Lucitius breathed, his rumbling voice heavily accented with a gutteral lisp.

The rabbit turned its head, watching him. Lucitius didn’t notice, too absorbed in the sight before him. The glowing light of the cavern swirled around him, beginning to obscure his body from sight. The rabbit turned away, quite satisfied.

A few minutes passed in silence, then Lucitius collapsed. The rabbit looked at him again and shifted position, sitting tall and proud. It wouldn’t be long before the living light disassembled the newcomer, then a festival could begin. The life-giving tree always needed more nutrients.

@izzyandviolins
this was really cute!! The description especially is nicely handled - it gives a good overview of what's happening without harping on it or dragging it out too much, and it lays out the location very nicely. The little details about the companion are fun too - honking, growling, implied reluctance about family matters - that add nice bits of worldbuilding and characterisation.
One thing you might consider (not here necessarily, since it's an exercise, but it might be helpful to keep in mind) is being mindful of the order you describe things in! Right now we're going cave, rabbits, river, lilypads, coral, seaweed on the sides, rabbits leaping and watching, rabbits flying on jellyfish. The effect is that we're sort of backtracking a bit - here's a cave, but it's a river, the rabbits have helmets, here's where they are, and I can see this because the jellyfish are glowing. it's not that you didn't choose the right details - all of this is relevant, and like I said, it's a well-handled overview with nice descriptiosn! it's more a question of what order the narrator would notice these details in. do they notice the brightest parts first? do they notice moving parts? do they start at the top and make their way down, or vice versa? do they notice things that are close-up, or far away? It can help to picture it as an establishing shot in a movie - is it sweeping around, or are there bits and pieces that add up quickly?
asfkds that got a bit long, and that doesn't mean there's anything wrong as is! It's just a few questions to ask yourself when crafting descriptions, matching them to narration, and keeping the overall flow in mind.
but yeah. thanks so much for sharing!!

@Serpentess
oh hey welcome to notebook!! glad you're here!
This was super enjoyable to read!! you have a great sense of atmosphere - I really get the unsettling, confusing-but-in-a-threatening kinda vibe from the descriptions which is excellent! and adding questions throughout like "what was this place?" gives a nice and immersive look into Lucitius' thought process.
some things I'd keep an eye out for are sentence structure and specificity. In terms of sentence structure, I noticed there's a general pattern of "[subject] [verbed]" in starting your sentences - there's nothing wrong with that at all, but it can be good to keep an eye on it to make sure it doesn't dominate. you've already done a good job of breaking it up with other beginnings, like time markings and questions, but it may be worth looking into adding some transition words (and, because, but, therefore, etc), just to tighten the flow and mark out thoughts as connected to each other.
as for the specificity - sometimes there are constructions like "noticing blood", "summoning healing magic", "stopped using the spell" or "interact with the cavern" that are opportunities for more precise detail on what that action means or looks like. again, this is very much a discretion thing, nothing necessarily wrong or right about it, but it can be something nice to keep in mind! being mindful of how detailed a given aspect is can affect things like pacing, immersion, and worldbuilding, so if you're ever editing for those things specifically in a longer piece this is one way of making those kinds of adjustments.
sooo yeah. this was very well laid out and fun to read, so thanks so much for sharing!!

and prompts!!

music: "Wolves Without Teeth" by Of Monsters and Men _{(yes I only just discovered them 10 years too late what of it–)}

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image: "Behind every hill there is a Giant hiding, they’re very shy so you rarely get to see them " by feefal (that's their tumblr, they're also on twitter but I'm not sure about a website)

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words: from "Demeter and Persephone" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Last as the likeness of a dying man,
Without his knowledge, from him flits to warn
A far-off friendship that he comes no more,
So he, the God of dreams, who heard my cry,
Drew from thyself the likeness of thyself
Without thy knowledge, and thy shadow past
Before me,

@izzyandviolins
this was really cute!! The description especially is nicely handled - it gives a good overview of what's happening without harping on it or dragging it out too much, and it lays out the location very nicely. The little details about the companion are fun too - honking, growling, implied reluctance about family matters - that add nice bits of worldbuilding and characterisation.
One thing you might consider (not here necessarily, since it's an exercise, but it might be helpful to keep in mind) is being mindful of the order you describe things in! Right now we're going cave, rabbits, river, lilypads, coral, seaweed on the sides, rabbits leaping and watching, rabbits flying on jellyfish. The effect is that we're sort of backtracking a bit - here's a cave, but it's a river, the rabbits have helmets, here's where they are, and I can see this because the jellyfish are glowing. it's not that you didn't choose the right details - all of this is relevant, and like I said, it's a well-handled overview with nice descriptiosn! it's more a question of what order the narrator would notice these details in. do they notice the brightest parts first? do they notice moving parts? do they start at the top and make their way down, or vice versa? do they notice things that are close-up, or far away? It can help to picture it as an establishing shot in a movie - is it sweeping around, or are there bits and pieces that add up quickly?
asfkds that got a bit long, and that doesn't mean there's anything wrong as is! It's just a few questions to ask yourself when crafting descriptions, matching them to narration, and keeping the overall flow in mind.
but yeah. thanks so much for sharing!!

ahhh thank youuuu

Thanks for the feedback @ninja_violinist, every bit helps! I had noticed my ‘subject-verb’ trend before, but I wasn’t aware of how abundant it was until now. And with the specificity, I notice what you mean, and I also tend to forget that, though I may have a clear image of what’s happening (I’m so used to Lucitius, it’s just second nature at this point), no one else really does. So, again, thank you. I encourage more feedback, from anyone!

And now, the next prompt (my story turned out a bit longer than I thought, but eh, why not?). The shy giants hiding under hills is definitely something I had not thought of before. (I know the title says ‘behind’, but that young woman is hiding under a blanket disguised as a hill. That’s what I see at least). It’s an intriguing twist.

Also, just something funny I wanted to share. My story for the bubble bunnies, I actually didn’t edit. It was just a spur of the moment post. This one, however, is going to have a more thorough inspection before being posted. But, anyway, onward.

Context: Wandering in a land of hills at night/early morning. Lucitius can see well in the moonlight, so nighttime doesn’t faze him.
———
For hours, Lucitius roamed, ignoring dusk as much as the previous dawn. The forested hills rolled from horizon to horizon. Many were simple mounds, tall and short, round or misshapen. Others were waves in the ocean of land, swelling and falling even in their stillness. The trees, most of them oak, were scattered about, some in clusters, some lone individuals sitting like sentinels on their hill.

Lucitius walked in one of the clusters, a tight thicket, brushing through a handful of low branches. As he passed, a few snapped back and banged him on the head, entangling in his horns. A low growl of frustration rumbled in his throat and he ripped his horns free of the branches with a powerful lunge. He then started to pluck twigs and leaves from his horns.

He regretted choosing this path. How many times had these low branches hit his head? His eyes narrowed and he emitted a growling huff as he noticed another patch of low branches near.

Lucitius glanced around for an exit, but the only one he saw would include fighting tons of branches as he climbed up. He huffed again, contemplating how he might escape without dealing with the foul arms of the trees.

On impulse, he teleported to the top of the tree next to him. The branch beneath him immediately gave way and he yelped, reaching for another branch as he mentally screamed to his levitation abilities.

He missed the branch, but his levitation didn’t fail him and he floated lightly, drifting down with the momentum of his fall. An annoyed sigh and several minutes of climbing brought Lucitius back to the top of the tree.

His fingers lightly tapped the broken branch and it snapped off with little resistance. Lucitius blinked in confusion. Why were the trees so brittle, and why did his ability to perch with near-weightlessness not work?

Lucitius glanced over at a nearby branch and pushed himself toward it, floating gracefully until he hovered above it. Gently setting his feet on it, he pressed down on the branch, and, as the first one did, it easily snapped.

No trees Lucitius had ever encountered had been so brittle. Why were these such way?

He pondered his next move when the trees abruptly shifted, as if a gale had burst through them, but there was no wind. Another annoyed sigh.

Grasping the trunk of the tree next to him, he shoved himself away, gliding upward at a diagonal angle. Massive translucent blue wings sprouted from his back a few minutes later, eagerly bursting forth from their sheaths against his spine, and Lucitius propelled himself much higher than his levitation could ever hope to.

He settled far above the hill and angled his wings down, flapping mightily and producing a strong wind, like the invisible gale. The hill ruffled like a thrown cloth, large curled legs peeking out. A giant woman, young and beautiful, sprung out from under the false hill with a yelp and hopped beneath another.

Lucitius scrutinized the, now flat, hill she had been under, realizing that it was a sort of blanket, apparently covered in giant thorns. His eyes scanned the landscape, one of endless hills. How many were real? How many hid a giant?

He would have be cautious around the young woman. If he spooked her too much, he would likely be facing families of enraged giants. That, he wanted to avoid.

As a way to bring himself lower, Lucitius simply stopped flapping his wings and fell. He closed his eyes, savoring the rush of air as he plummeted, his hair fluttering in the wind much like his wings.

Heartbeats seemed like hours, one, then three, then nine. Lucitius tilted his wings to slow his descent, and a mighty beat of those same wings brought him to a stop nearly eye-level with the tallest trees around.

A low, almost growling, purr vibrated deep in Lucitius’ throat as he hovered. How he loved flying, the euphoria of the wind’s caress, the tranquility of being deaf to all but the raucous yet playful air. The pity was, he flew so infrequently.

Lucitius burst into laughter as he considered his own musing. How could he always find a way to project his love for his dearest Synthia into every aspect of his wandering?

A hill shifted nearby, ripping Lucitius from his amusing thoughts. He studied that hill, recalling how the giant woman dove under it. She was still there, and apparently listening to him.

Lucitius snorted and hummed a random happy tune, waiting. Minutes later, the hill shifted again. Another chuckle.

The woman peeked out from under the strange blanket, noticing his huge wings before finally pinpointing Lucitius. She quickly disappeared.

Many more minutes of waiting passed, Lucitius casually humming as he admired the moon. A pair of eyes appeared again.

“Greetings.”,Lucitius cooed, still looking at the bright moon.

The woman didn’t move for a long while, simply watching the even rhythm of his wingbeats. Finally, she crawled out from under the hill, the blanket somehow undisturbed by her movements.

She sat cross-legged near her own blanket-hill, chewing her lip. A few moments of timid silence, then the young woman started to speak, her eyes questioning, her voice rambling in a low, timid tone of gibberish.

“Damn, if only I spoke Giant.”,Lucitius sighed.
Tapping his chin, he wondered how best communicate with the woman.

She perked up at his words. Lucitius’ eyes narrowed in thought.

“Mine name is Lucitius.”

The woman, clearly bewildered by his sudden heavy accent, stared. Lucitius hummed, wondering how he could clarify his words for her.

“Mine is… my.”,he stammered, battling his tongue to speak.

“Your name… Lucitius?”,the woman asked, her voice stilted as if she was still learning the human language.

He nodded. A breif smile appeared on her lips, then she softly touched her bosom.

“Gloria.”

“Your name?”

A shy smile brightened her face.

“I apologize for rudely disturbing you. I am unaccustomed to giants. Where might I land without disturbing any others?”,Lucitius inquired.

Gloria tapped a hill behind her. Lucitius glided to an open area then levitated the rest of the way to the ground. Once he had landed, his wings rapidly folded before vanishing from sight entirely. Gloria eagerly laid down on her belly, her bare feet playing with her blanket as she studied him.

Similarly, Lucitius admired Gloria’s red hair for a moment, only now noticing the hue. How much it reminded him of his beloved Synthia and her own fiery hair. He would have to cut his roaming short just to satisfy his urge to caress Synthia’s hair. He quickly pushed those thoughts away as Gloria started to speak.

“What you, Lucitius? I never seen a small someone before.”

“I am unique… yet from a race of creatures called drāckonians. Our home is far from here, another realm truthfully.”,Lucitius replied.

“Another place? Exciting! What it like?”,Gloria beamed. Lucitius shrugged.

“Not as lush as this. ‘Tis a barren place, yet ‘tis still mine home.”,he mused.

Gloria’s grin widened, her green eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Lucitius wondered if she had ever been this fascinated in her life.

A rumbling noise sounded nearby and Gloria sat up, looking to the side and chewing her lip again. She glanced between Lucitius and the source of the noise repeatedly.

“Another giant?”,Lucitius guessed. Gloria nodded.

“Mother.”

The rumbling started again and a nearly hill rose, the blanket slipping off of a massive older woman with the same red hair as Gloria. She stretched her arms and yawned, then glanced over at Gloria. Her eyes widened and she questioned Gloria in their moaning, gibberish language.

The two spoke for a moment, then Gloria nodded, saddened. Lucitius could easily guess what their conversation had been.

“Lucitius, go. Mother mad you here.”,Gloria moaned.

“Very well. Farewell, Gloria. ‘Tis been a pleasure.”

“I make mark on hill, to find me if visit again.”,Gloria smiled.

Lucitius smiled back and bowed deeply at both of the giants, then teleported away. He would get his visit with Synthia soon than he had thought.

Gloria sighed forlornly, glancing her mother’s way. She seemed upset by Gloria’s declaration to leave a mark for Lucitius, but said nothing. Both giants curled under their hills again and the night fell still once more.

Hi, I was wondering if it was too late to join or? If not, I would love to join!

I think anyone can join. I introduced myself with a story for a prompt a few days ago, and no one had any objections.

It's always free to join!! we'd be happy to have you!

sfdfds so in a truly unexpected and shocking turn of events, I was inspired by the word prompt (and like. a single line of the song) and actually managed to write something! it's kind of experimental compared to my usual fare, and relatively unedited, so I'd love it if anyone had any feedback!

sfdfds so in a truly unexpected and shocking turn of events, I was inspired by the word prompt (and like. a single line of the song) and actually managed to write something! it's kind of experimental compared to my usual fare, and relatively unedited, so I'd love it if anyone had any feedback!

"mournful whisper of the wind" I loooooooooved that!

so a while back i saw something that involved a god being promised a love, and all i could think of was "what if the gender was the opposite of the expected" and now i have an arrogant playboy god that is definitely getting played by a trans fate goddess

enjoy this midnight prologue

sfdfds so in a truly unexpected and shocking turn of events, I was inspired by the word prompt (and like. a single line of the song) and actually managed to write something! it's kind of experimental compared to my usual fare, and relatively unedited, so I'd love it if anyone had any feedback!

I absolutely ADORE the general effect of this. It feels really haunted and I genuinely was tense the entire way through. The concept is also really interesting, and very promising, and even with so little description the character was really fascinating. I like the lack of description too, it makes it feel more tense. One thing maybe? And this is really just style and nothing concrete because your writing is already something I'd happily pay to read but, maybe you could limit the description even more. Give one general element of the street she's in and then immediately focus on the house she's heading to, get into more detail as she gets closer, and then the transition from her walking to her knocking can be really smooth and maybe even catch the reader by surprise.

Wondering if anyone could critique an excerpt from this short story I'm writing? Twigger warning.

She hated them. They lied to her, lied to her about who her family was, lied to her about this for years, yet never blinked an eye. The floor creaked underneath her feet; the door moaning as it was pulled open. The moonlight shimmered through the window, casting a ghastly spotlight on her. They lay there, unaware that their secrets had been unveiled for her to see.
And as she crept to her "father's" side, her hand stroking his arm one final time, a sudden pang of nostalgia to curl up by his side and be his little girl again erupted in her chest, but then it was gone and she was filled with hatred again. The curved knife in her hand came down, and the walls came alive as his blood started covered the walls, as she stabbed and she stabbed until there was surely nothing left of the man other than his lifeless corrupted soul. Then, she crept over to her mother's side, and again, she trailed a tender hand across her cheek, having a tinge of regret for what she was about to do, but then the carved knife came down again, and by now the bedsheets were covered with not blotches of blood, but gushes of blood running down them, like paint on a canvas, and their lifeless bodes aimless splayed upon it.

A piece of art.

That’s pretty good @poetry_girl. Nice detail.
Some suggestions: ‘The curved knife in her hand’ and ‘Then, she crept over to her mother’ could be new paragraphs. It would break up that big paragraph and allow the different scenes to have their own time to shine, so to speak.
The couple ‘but then’ spots seem a bit wordy. One or the other on its own would probably do just as fine. But, that’s just my opinion, everyone has their own different style.
Otherwise, I really like it.

@Serpentess Thanks for the feedback, I did go back to edit that bit but if you want to see the whole story you can check it out here https://www.notebook.ai/documents/133604