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sailorstarsunI was moving some stuff around in my room just now, and found a bunch of notebooks. Most of them are only half used, so I guess I may as well finish them up before buying any more (though I do so love shopping for them .^^ ). But one of them was the book I used for my creative writing class I took a few years ago (when I was still in CA). I had always wanted to share some of the stuff in here, but don't think I ever had the chance, since I was in the process of moving when taking that class.
But now that I've found it, here are some of the things I wrote.
Some of which are totally fanfics in disguise. .^_~ Brownies for you if you can guess which ones.
And you don't have to read if you don't want. I'm just putting these here mostly for my own reference, and so if I lose the notebook again, I'll have them. I'll probably post more later.
One of the first things we had to write were two truths and a lie, and the class had to guess which one was the lie. I ended up writing two of the most fantastical things for the truths, and the most boring thing for the lie. This actually worked against me. .^^ But a lot of people ended up doing the same thing, so I guess I'm normal like that.
1. My life seems so very typical. I graduated from Independence High School a year ago, then started attending college - community, not university, at the request of my mother.
2. We missed our flight. As much as we joked about it, we never really thought it would happen. Stuck for we didn't even know how long, hoping our standby status would see us home, sleeping on whatever empty benches we could find, essentially living at the Narita Airport... in Tokyo, Japan.
3. I visited Colorado once. Of course, I don't remember the trip, since I was just a baby, but there are pictures as proof. Little baby me and my older brother, with our Dad, who had just kidnapped us from our Mom.
One night the prompt we had to write was describing a face.
Round, full cheeks, half covered with a graying beard and mustache. Framed by long black and grey hair, and centered by a proportionate nose. Perfectly straight, white, false teeth, that always smile. But the highlight is the pair of soft brown eyes, full of warmth.
I wrote about my Dad. =3
Another night we had to list some of our writing "obsessions." Things we tended to write about often.
- I write about relationships/character interaction. The way people react to each other (more than how they react to situations..).
-I write about men... in love... with other men. X3 And how people react when they find out, how they deal with society's prejudices to this, and how they deal with their own prejudices to this.
-I write crack. The most random ass things. I want to make people laugh. I crack myself up.
-I put people in hospitals a lot. ... No idea why.
-Boi!smut
The prompt was "Mama has always had a love for other people's possessions."
Mama has always had a love for other people's possessions. their clothes, their cars, their time and money. Anything she could get her hands on she took, letting her greed control her words and actions. It wasn't her concern if somebody got hurt, but usually it was a simple matter of somebody getting fucked - one way or another - so she could get what she wanted.
When I see myself following in her footsteps, it makes me sick. And yet I'm unable to stop myself. The same lines pour from my mouth of their own will; half the time I hardly realize what I'm doing until I hear "I'll give you what you want if you give me what I want" said in my own voice.
I don't remember what the prompts for these ones were for... .^^*
You yelled when your brother asked you that question; the blush that covered your cheeks as you called him stupid was a signal of your embarrassment. But what upset you more? The thought that he might have been serious? Or the thought that he might not have been? Do you even know yourself?
and...
It occurred to her suddenly that she had, in fact, got what she had wished for. He was opening up to her. He was speaking personally with her, and though it wasn't how she'd imagined, it was good enough. In fact, it was better.
and...
I am a man of substance, I exist, but people are too clouded in their own lives to see me. Or to see anyone, for that matter, except for those enclosed in their world. I am not in anyone else's world; I am not seen like others are seen. Their field of vision does not include me, so as far as they're concerned, I don't really exist at all.
There's a lot more, but I'll stop there for now...
But now that I've found it, here are some of the things I wrote.
Some of which are totally fanfics in disguise. .^_~ Brownies for you if you can guess which ones.
And you don't have to read if you don't want. I'm just putting these here mostly for my own reference, and so if I lose the notebook again, I'll have them. I'll probably post more later.
One of the first things we had to write were two truths and a lie, and the class had to guess which one was the lie. I ended up writing two of the most fantastical things for the truths, and the most boring thing for the lie. This actually worked against me. .^^ But a lot of people ended up doing the same thing, so I guess I'm normal like that.
1. My life seems so very typical. I graduated from Independence High School a year ago, then started attending college - community, not university, at the request of my mother.
2. We missed our flight. As much as we joked about it, we never really thought it would happen. Stuck for we didn't even know how long, hoping our standby status would see us home, sleeping on whatever empty benches we could find, essentially living at the Narita Airport... in Tokyo, Japan.
3. I visited Colorado once. Of course, I don't remember the trip, since I was just a baby, but there are pictures as proof. Little baby me and my older brother, with our Dad, who had just kidnapped us from our Mom.
One night the prompt we had to write was describing a face.
Round, full cheeks, half covered with a graying beard and mustache. Framed by long black and grey hair, and centered by a proportionate nose. Perfectly straight, white, false teeth, that always smile. But the highlight is the pair of soft brown eyes, full of warmth.
I wrote about my Dad. =3
Another night we had to list some of our writing "obsessions." Things we tended to write about often.
- I write about relationships/character interaction. The way people react to each other (more than how they react to situations..).
-I write about men... in love... with other men. X3 And how people react when they find out, how they deal with society's prejudices to this, and how they deal with their own prejudices to this.
-I write crack. The most random ass things. I want to make people laugh. I crack myself up.
-I put people in hospitals a lot. ... No idea why.
-Boi!smut
The prompt was "Mama has always had a love for other people's possessions."
Mama has always had a love for other people's possessions. their clothes, their cars, their time and money. Anything she could get her hands on she took, letting her greed control her words and actions. It wasn't her concern if somebody got hurt, but usually it was a simple matter of somebody getting fucked - one way or another - so she could get what she wanted.
When I see myself following in her footsteps, it makes me sick. And yet I'm unable to stop myself. The same lines pour from my mouth of their own will; half the time I hardly realize what I'm doing until I hear "I'll give you what you want if you give me what I want" said in my own voice.
I don't remember what the prompts for these ones were for... .^^*
You yelled when your brother asked you that question; the blush that covered your cheeks as you called him stupid was a signal of your embarrassment. But what upset you more? The thought that he might have been serious? Or the thought that he might not have been? Do you even know yourself?
and...
It occurred to her suddenly that she had, in fact, got what she had wished for. He was opening up to her. He was speaking personally with her, and though it wasn't how she'd imagined, it was good enough. In fact, it was better.
and...
I am a man of substance, I exist, but people are too clouded in their own lives to see me. Or to see anyone, for that matter, except for those enclosed in their world. I am not in anyone else's world; I am not seen like others are seen. Their field of vision does not include me, so as far as they're concerned, I don't really exist at all.
There's a lot more, but I'll stop there for now...
