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Recall Ch 1 - ConnorchapMaybe you murdered me, and your bad dreams are just a manifestation of your guilt.
Molly snorted, brushing her curly brown hair behind her ear. Did you even hear what I said?
You said, Caprivus, I hate to do this, and I hate to admit I was wrong but maybe you werent such a good target after all! Then you pasted me with a kernel. He didnt look up from the tablet he was prodding at.
Spencer, I just came it to tell you that dinners ready.
Not now, Molly. Im getting some good work done here.
Well, Im sure you can find out who murdered you after dinners done.
One minute, Spencer said distractedly, prodding at his tablet once more.
Molly sighed impatiently, glancing about the clutter of Spencers room with an offhand disapproval. The badly dusted bedroom was stacked with different display panels, flashing information needlessly across their muggy sur
Staging for WritingStaging in Regards to Writing
Setting up your scene, whether it be for a novel, short story or a script is an important aspect of writing a believable and understandable story. Staging is sort of like the layout of your world. It is imperative that the reader understand where setting(s) is, where the character(s) is coming from, going to, directions, names of places, and where people/things/places are in relation to one another.
Below I have provided an example of a written excerpt with good staging.
Sally stood in the middle of the mall, wondering where the food court was. Looking at the mall map towering before her, she found McDonald's on the first floor next to The Gap. Amy bounded up to Sally from behind the mall map carrying several shopping bags in her hands.
"If we head off that way," Sally said to Amy, pointing to the right, "We can get some lunch."
Okay, so this is a little on the simple and literal side, but it's very effe
The Dove and the Crow 1I could hear his distinctive footsteps ascend up the staircase. I hid in the safety of my bedroom wardrobe, praying he wouldnt find me. Each creak grew louder. His footsteps getting closer. The tiny chink of light issuing from the gap between the doors, now blocked by a tall, towering figure. My body numbed, my mouth dried, the cold sweat trickled down my frozen cheek, the shivers shook down my spine. He found me.
RYAN! Why havent you done the dishes yet? he shrieked. His iron grip pierced the skin on my scrawny arm as I was thrown out of the wardrobe, smacking hard against the concrete wall. His hand of steel swiftly struck me silently across the face, the pain unbearable. Cheek stinging violently, blood flooding my mouth; I collapsed onto the grey, dusty carpet, shaking the houses foundations. The image of his furious, red face consumed my mind before I fell into the black abyss of darkness. Oh Father
Adrift - draak-shadowThe sun struggled to make its way up the cloudy sky, trying to light the desolated outskirts of the snow-covered city. Its light filtered through the wooden rafters of the ceiling of the old train station, long abandoned. The building just stood there in the middle of nowhere, ruinous, its dirty greyish walls reflecting the cold light. But, despite its dead external appearance, it was full of life inside if it deserved being called life.
A bunch of kids of all ages slept there, hidden under pieces of ripped cardboard or newspapers, lying among rubbish and rusty railways. As sunlight reached their faces, they stirred, and most of them woke up. Some just closed their sleepy eyes again and turned their faces to go on sleeping, but Sergei didnt. The twelve year old boy put aside the cardboard he used as a blanket and stood up, staggering. He sank his filthy hands in a drum full of icy water and rubbed his light blue eyes. The water left dirty marks on his face as it
WWC 10 - ItamiAssassian"None of them love you, you know." Smiling, he tucked the large hardcover volume back into it's proper place on the shelf. "They'd all rather you died... It would be so much more simple, really."
Turning into his pillow, the young man scrunched his eyes shut and tried to block out the calm, soothing voice spewing the cruel words. Biting his lip and deciding to stay silent, he continued to lay on his bed, tensing up when he felt a new pressure no the mattress as the older man sat down.
"Go away..." Pressing his face harder into the pillow, his words were heavily muffled, but could still be made out. It was true, his treatment had been given and he was now to be left alone until dinner, he just needed to take his medication, which was on his night-stand with a glass of water. His request for the other man to go away was a just one.
"Go away? But my dear master Goane, I am your doctor. I am being paid by your family to take care of you, until you get better. Or, of course, unti
Grammar Workshop--ThePrettySinHere are some helpful hints to improve the grammar, and thus the flow, of your writing.
Its-Contraction of it is or it has
Example: Its Tuesday today.
Its-Possessive adjective/pronoun of it
Example: The beast roared angrily. Its claws glinted in the moonlight as it stepped closer.
Your-The possessive form of you
Example: Is that your bag?
Youre-Contraction of you are or you were
Example: Youre going to the ballgame, right?
Use of Semicolons
Used between similar ideas in place of coordi
Winter Garden -- ThePrettySinThe night was cold and somber, the moon shining brightly on the snow that had fallen in the previous day. The ground was covered in a pure blanket, save for the quick footprints that began to mar it,
"I am so late!" Jonathan muttered, the crunching of his steps nearly drowning his words, "Lara is going to kill me!"
He had no sooner spoken the words when he finally entered his destination: a garden of unpassing beauty. Though there was no blooms on the ground and no leaves on the barren trees, it was a wintry dream come true. In the center of it all was an angel with ebon hair and pale, fair skin, sitting quietly on a bench. She raised her head to him as he walked towards her, a warm smile gracing her face, though her gray eyes remained untouched.
"Lara! I am so sor-"
She cut him off with a raised hand, the warm smile just intensifying like the sun in spring. "I know. Your work keeps you occupied. I understand, my love."
Jonathan shifted, taken aback by her quiet demeanor. In the past,
My Boyfriend, The Vampire Pt 1When Damien asked me out at the start of the school year, I was ecstatic. I men, who wouldnt be, with those eyes, so blue you could swim in them and that deep, soothing voice that you couldnt help but trust? Plus, he was the schools star running back. He was a sharp contrast to his brother, Blain, whose eyes were hard and cold, his body pale, and his scowl dismissive.
Amazingly, we stayed together all the way until homecoming in October. The day after they announced the date and theme (A Night on Mount Olympus, in case you were wondering), Damien pulled me into an empty classroom during lunch.
Victoria, he said. I want to ask you to homecoming, but, he paused, looking nervous, theres-something-I-need-to-tell-you-first. It came out in a r
WWC 9 - CaptainQuirkJenna swatted away another mosquito and shuddered. The sticky August haze enveloped her and her friends, but she was the only one who seemed to be bothered by it.
Of all the weekends in the year, we choose the nastiest one to go camping, she lamented.
Phil, who was leading the four deep into the forest, reminded her that shed agreed to come.
Besides, Marty said jokingly, what would you do in the city with all of us gone? Go over your stamp collection?
Jenna shrugged. There were a million things shed rather be doing, and they all involved air conditioning.
I think this is the place, Dani announced. Phil shook his head. He marched on, stopping just several paces later. He set his pack down and gestured grandly at the surroundings.
This! He declared. This is our spot! He posed there for a moment,
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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