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A little advice?

Posted: Thu Jan 01, 2009 8:48 pm
by Sither
I'm a budding novilist myself, like so many of you here. I would like to know if anyone here has any advice that they think might be helpful to me. My problem is I seem to get bored with the plot and give it up. I have tried to write a novel 5 times and I have failed to write an novel 5 times. It's not that I have a problem writing a lot, I just seem to want to get straight to the action. The novel I am currently working on know looks promising, though, so I am going to try to stick with it.

Posted: Fri Jan 02, 2009 10:58 am
by Corva
I've had a similar problem, although most of mine is that I have another great idea and get to work on a story based on that, or I can't be bothered to write. I've almost finished a short story about Vampires, Werewolves, Zombies, post-apocalypse, Darpa...

Posted: Fri Jan 02, 2009 3:07 pm
by Sither
Here is the only story I have actually writen willingly and not for a school project or anything.It's pretty long, and it could have been better, but it gave me a taste of what finishing a story is like. It's almost a high.

Raven’s Clearing
by Sither(not my real name, obviously)

I alighted on the branch. It bent slightly under my weight, then came back up. My keen, black eyes swept the moonlit clearing. The twilight gave gleaming radiance to the emerald-green grass swaying softly in the wind. The trees rustled their leaves. Crickets and owls soon added their sound to the ancient melody of the night. A song as old and perpetual as mother Earth herself. I added my own call to this song. “Caw!â€￾I shrieked. I heard the call again as another of my kind answered me. I rustled my ebony feathers, black as the darkness that surrounded me.

I then began to preen my feathers. The weather this night was deplorable and had left them in a horrendous state. I preened them until they were smooth enough to satisfy me. I wonder how much time is left in the night, I thought to myself. I looked up and scanned the sky for the moon. I found it west almost below the mountain. I couldn’t go far. Sighing, I took to the sky. My heart jumped as I watched the ground fall from beneath me. I loved to fly. Honestly, there wasn’t anything I found more enjoyable. I sailed across the moonlit sky, silent as a shadow.

All of the sudden I saw a light on the ground far, far below me. I knew that the only creatures that could make a light that bright on a night such as this were human beings. I was wize enough to know that humans were known troublemakers and that I should steer clear. Of them if I could. I turned and started heading back to the clearing. The sun had very nearly begun to rise. All the sudden I noticed what state my feathers were in. “Oh, bother,â€￾ I said, exasperated. I would have to preen my feathers again before I could rest. The mucky weather had worked it’s mischief once more.

I flew into the clearing and landed on my perch. I then stepped into the hollow of tree I had made my home. It is a large hollow so far as hollows go. I could stretch my wings and not touch both sides. The chill of the night disappeared instantly as I entered the hollow. I preened my feathers again, then lied down to rest. I closed my eyes and by the sun lit the Earth I was fast asleep.

I opened my eyes. The moon was high in the sky, casting it’s dark light across the heavens. I jumped from the hollow to my branch. Now, for breakfast. I looked around. The night was quiet, peaceful. Not for long, I thought grimly. “Caw!â€￾ I shrieked. Something moved in a bush near my tree. A rabbit sped out, eyes wide with fright. She turned to se what had...Slam! I smashed into her, knocking her right over. I pecked her once in the head as hard as I could. She gasped and then moved no more. I ate until I was content, then washed the blood off my feathers. If I didn’t clean them, they would stick together and become a hassle.


When I was satisfied that wouldn’t happen, I spread my wings and took to the skies. I again felt the exhilaration of flight. I flew in no particular direction, where was there need to go? After a time I noticed something beneath me. Oddly enough, it was the same light I had seen last night. A quick look around me confirmed that it was also in the same spot. Again that voice in my head cautioned me not to mix myself up in the humans’ business. I’ll only look for a moment then leave before they even notice me besides humans never look up. I countered. The voice left but the sense of dread did not.

I circled above the spot for a while, trying to just fly away and forget all about humans being in the forest. My curiosity got the better of me though and I dove down into the trees nearest the strange light. “What was that!â€￾A strange, alien voice shouted. I stepped deeper into the shadows just as the owner of the voice stepped out into the open.It looked like a big ugly toucan without feathers or a beak. It had long, skinny arms without wings. He, for the deep voice suggested it was a he, was holding a long object.

The object looked like a long dark grey stick and appeared to have what looked like bark on the bottom and back of it. All of the sudden he grabbed the bark on the bottom of the thing, pulled it back, then pushed it back forward, really fast. The thing made a frightful chook-cheek sound. I saw now that it was two sticks side-by-side and that the sticks were hollow, like tunnels. Like dark tunnels from which nothing escaped alive. My heart skipped a couple beats, then started to beat again, going as fast as a jackrabbit. It reminded me of the sound a woodpecker makes when it is trying to get bugs out of the trees. He then raised it in my direction. I was about to bolt when something shot out of the bush next to him. It was another raven, like me. Apparently he was as frightened as I was, for he was flying at top speed.

The human whipped around, raised the thing to his shoulder and their was a bang and a flash and the raven fell from the sky, part of him looking like it was ripped out. I lost my nerve and took to the sky, flying at maximum speed. It wasn’t fast enough. I heard another bang and my right wing exploded with pain. My wing went dead. My vision flickered as I plummeted from the sky. The ground rushed up to meet me. My world went dark

Being unconscious is like being in a pitch-black cave with no entrance, no exit, and no way out. It felt as if I were floating in water. Years passed in that endless void. I was going to go crazy if I couldn’t wake up soon. A bright light suddenly shone through the darkness, as if answering my call. I desperately reached towards it.

I opened my eyes. At first I thought that I was in my tree hollow in the clearing. Then I noticed that my right wing felt like it was on fire. There was something else that seemed rather odd too, but I couldn’t put a feather on it. My mind was hazy, my thoughts slow and dragging. Then it came to me. The walls and floor of this hollow were far too smooth. It appeared to be rough and grainy, but that was just the color. I managed to stand, though it took every bit of strength and willpower I had. Also, this hollow was enormous. I had thought my hollow quite large, but this one was at least four times it’s size. I started to spread my wings to measure this hollow, but stopped myself just in time. If I hadn’t, I would have been in considerable pain.\

Let’s explore outside, I thought, my head clearer now. I proceeded to do just that, but found my way blocked by criss-crossing metal bars that had been placed over the exit. I bit one experimentally. Hard as stone. There was no doubt that I would not be able to break it. I realized, with a cold, sinking feeling, that this was the only way out of this false hollow. I looked around wildly, desperately searching for a way out of this prison I had found myself in. There was none. I was trapped.




“CAW!â€￾ I shrieked in fury at being captured and caged. “Looks like our new guest is finally awake,â€￾A voice said somewhere outside my prison. Moments later, a face appeared at the door. I instinctively jumped back and spread my wings. Suddenly my right wing screamed with pain. I saw red. A few seconds later, the pain subsided, leaving me panting. “Careful!â€￾ The human in front of me exclaimed. I calmed myself down and took another look at my captor. She appeared to be female, and young too. “Wait a second! I understood you! How can you speak my tongue?â€￾I said, amazed. She winked at me and left.

I was still shocked. I had never been able to understand human speech, no matter how closely I listened to the alien sounds of their language. So that meant she had spoken mine. There were stories of humans that could speak to ravens, but those stories were ancient, and weren’t exactly true. Or so I had thought. It must be a rare gift, I thought. Nobody came for a while after that. I took this time to see just how badly my wing was hurt. I couldn’t tell, it was covered with some kind of cloth. The cloth was white, but had a huge red stain on it. Blood, I thought. The sheer amount of it was astounding. This was a bad injury, indeed. I remembered what that other raven’s chest had looked like when the man had used his strange weapon on it, and was glad I could not see what my wing looked like.

The girl who had visited me earlier now returned. She sat down close to the cage door. “Better now?â€￾ she asked me. “Yes,â€￾ I replied, “How can you speak in my tongue. I know of none in song or legend that have that gift.â€￾ “Oh, I’ve always been able to talk to ravens. I’m not sure why; at first I thought I could talk to birds, but only ravens ever talk back,â€￾ She explained. “ Well, that is indeed a special gift. Like I’ve said, no one has ever had it before. What happened to my wing?â€￾ I asked. She scowled, and said, “ That’s my brother’s fault. If he wasn’t so trigger-happy, you would be just fine.â€￾

“What was that thing he had, though?â€￾ I asked again. “He shot you with a gun. Have you heard of those?â€￾ She replied. “I have. But I thought those only left one hole, my whole wing feels torn apart.â€￾ I said. “That’s because it was a shotgun he had. They fire a spray of metal. They’re nasty weapons.â€￾ She said in return. I thought about that. “Seems like a gun made for someone with bad aim,â€￾ I commented. She laughed, “My brother’s aim is bad. Really bad.â€￾ Then she became serious again. “He almost hit you, though,â€￾ She said grimly. “Almost only counts in horseshoes,â€￾ I said. “Not always,â€￾she replied, “My point is that your wing is going to take a very long time to heal. It might not.â€￾

“When it does, I am going to peck your brother’s eyes out,â€￾ I said angrily. “I don’t blame you. He likes to read horror stories and probably thinks that you have dark powers,â€￾ She said, grinning. I laughed. “Where did people get the idea that ravens and crows are evil?â€￾ I asked. “I have no idea why,â€￾ She said, “It’s probably because you have black feathers and dark red eyes. People can be silly. The sound ravens make also creeps people out.â€￾ “What sound?â€￾ I asked. “Caw!â€￾ She screeched, doing a perfect imitation. “You do that quite well. Surprisingly well, actually.â€￾I said, impressed. “Thanks. It’s a talent of mine. It drives my brother nuts. He thinks I’m a witch,â€￾ She said, grinning. “Draw a weird looking symbol on his door, that will have him on his knees begging for mercy, “I said, amused.
“Maybe I will. I’ll probably just kick his ass, though. I can’t draw for nothing.,â€￾ She replied. “Hey, what’s your name, by the way?â€￾ She asked me. “Blackwing,â€￾I told her. “That does fit you well,â€￾ She said. “What’s yours?â€￾ I asked in return. “Naomi,â€￾ She told me. “I like that name. It’s pretty. Makes me think of gemstones,â€￾ I said. “Thanks, Blackwing,â€￾ Naomi said, flattered. She looked up for a second, then said, “Looks like the sun is about to come up. Time for us to get some sleep.â€￾ I agreed and then realized what that meant. “What do you mean us?â€￾ I asked.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. I’m pretty much nocturnal. I can’t seem to fall asleep at night, but I can’t stay awake most of the day. No one can seem to figure out why. Either way, I’ll see you tomorrow night, Blackwing,â€￾She told me. Then she walked out of sight. I lied down and thought over what had just gone on. I had never thought that I would meet a human that was so much like a raven. She was nocturnal, and she could speak the language of ravens. I was also sure she was the one who had saved me. Either way, I would ask her all my questions tomorrow. Right now I just wanted rest. My wing still hurt like a devil. I supposed it would be for a while. I was starting to think pecking her brother senseless might not be a bad idea. Then I fell asleep.

I woke up the next night . I was hungry, but I knew who to wait for. Luckily, she wouldn’t be long. I was correct, for she showed up almost immediately after I had woken up. “Are you psychic, or are you good at guessing when people are going to wake up. “Both,â€￾Naomi said. She had brought me a rabbit for breakfast. “So, you live in the large clearing south from here?â€￾ Naomi asked. “Yes! How on earth did you know that!â€￾I exclaimed. “I know the nearby forest quite well. That clearing was where I would settle, if I were a raven,â€￾ She answered. The conversation stopped for a moment whilst I ate, then I asked, “Do you live near here?â€￾ “Yes,â€￾ Naomi replied, “I live in a cabin about a mile north. I’ve been exploring this forest ever since I was a little girl.â€￾

I thought about that for a moment, then asked, “How far away is my clearing from here?â€￾ “About three miles from here. You could probably see it from the air, if you could fly.â€￾She answered me. “So you’ve been in that clearing,â€￾I said. “Yes, many times. It’s my favorite place in the whole forest,â€￾ she said. A pause. “Did you ever see it at night?â€￾ I asked. “Yes. I’m nocturnal, remember.â€￾ Naomi said, laughing. “Forgot that, didn’t I,â€￾ I said, amused. Then I thought of something. “If you like to go to that clearing, then we might meet again, even after my wing heals.â€￾

“I never thought of that. I guess we will, then,â€￾ She said, thinking out loud. “Why do you like that particular clearing?â€￾ I asked. “I’m not sure why. I just feel at home there,â€￾ She decided. “I know why,â€￾I said. “Why?â€￾ She asked me. “You like that particular valley,â€￾ I told her, “because it’s been known always as Raven’s Clearing. The soil is said to absorb the power of the moon and sun and combine them to form a power that is both light and dark, good and evil.â€￾ “Is that true,â€￾ she asked, “does that power exist.â€￾ “I believe so, for I have felt it. I’ve seen proof of it too. The moonlight collects on the leaves like mildew,â€￾ I stated. “Really?â€￾She asked, “I would love to see that.â€￾ “It also has healing abilities,â€￾ I added, “and can work wonders untold.â€￾


“Maybe it can heal your wing,â€￾ Naomi exclaimed. “I never thought of that. I suppose it can,â€￾ I said, now excited. “So maybe we should go to that clearing. There is still time left in the night,â€￾She stated. “How much,â€￾I asked her. She looked at the time-device on her wrist. “At least nine hours,â€￾ Naomi answered me. “So let us go there,â€￾ I said, “to Raven’s Clearing.â€￾ She unlocked my cage door. “Ready?â€￾She asked me. “I’m ready,â€￾ I answered, and climbed onto her wrist.

We began the walk to Raven’s Clearing. I was perched on Naomi’s shoulder, my right wing still too damaged to even stretch out. “Ouch, watch it with those talons, Blackfeather,â€￾She exclaimed. “ Sorry,â€￾ I said, loosening my grasp. “Those things are sharp,â€￾she said, rubbing her shoulder. “No fault of mine,â€￾ I said, “I didn’t ask to have my right wing blown to bits.â€￾ “Your right. Plus, they kind of need to be sharp, rightâ€￾ She replied. “Right. I won’t go into details, unless you want me too,â€￾ I said, challenging her. “No thanks. I’ve read Stephen King. I have a pretty good idea already,â€￾ She said.

“What kind of stories does Stephen King write?â€￾ I asked. “Horror stories,â€￾ Naomi answered. “You like getting scared?â€￾ I asked her. “I guess so,â€￾She said. “Mostly you like the hype, right?â€￾ I asked. “Rightâ€￾She answered. “Don’t we all.â€￾I said. There was no more talk for a while, the calm of midnight had begun to settle over us. “Raven’s clearing is a ways away from the campsite, isn’t it,â€￾ I said. “Quite,â€￾ Naomi agreed. More silence. “It didn’t seem that far from the air.â€￾ I said. Naomi laughed. “Feel sorry for we who can’t fly now, do youâ€￾She said, still chuckling a bit. “Yes, now I sympathize.â€￾ I said, sharing her glee.

I felt it now. We were connected in a way. I felt it clear as day. I was sure she felt it too. After a time, things began to take on a dreamlike quality. Everything seemed to be made of moonlight. The trunks of the trees surrounding us were dark blue and the leaves were a white-blue color. The air seemed heavier, more magical. The moon itself stood embossed against a pale blue sky. I could almost hear the moons’s ancient voice. We finally reached the clearing. I heard the same song, the same hymn that was sung by all the creatures of the forest.

We came to a stop in the middle of the clearing. The dreamlike haze faded away, leaving us standing in the moonlit valley. Naomi lowered me to the ground and stayed kneeling there herself. She picked one blade of grass. It was glowing brilliant with the moon’s power, moonlight dripping off it. She placed it on one knee and told me to outstretch my wing. I did this slowly, the world seeming less real by the minute. I managed to extend my wing enough for her to take the cloth off. It was not a pretty sight. The tissue was knotted and scarred.

She took the blade of grass off her knee and, holding it above my wing, gently tore it. Silver light pored over my wing like a canopy. When it had faded, I found my wing completely. I stretched it in and out a few times, then nodded. She then got up. She turned to go. “Wait,â€￾ I said, all of the sudden acting on instinct alone. She turned around and knelt down beside me. I locked eyes with her. Her eyes shone with a light I had not seen in her before. I reached down and plucked another blade of grass from the ground. I could taste the power on it. I reached out to her with it in my beak. She took it.



“Drink it, suck the power from it,â€￾ I told her, sounding dazed. “What will happen to me if I do,â€￾ She asked, equally dazed. “Something wonderful, something magical,â€￾ I told her, almost in a trance. She nodded and, raising the blade of grass to her lips, sucked it dry. She was instantly engulfed in silver light. It was so bright I had to look away. When the light faded, she was no longer as she had.

She was a raven now. Her feathers were blacker then the blackest night. Her beak was smooth as liquid. She looked up at me, eyes now a sparkling dark red. “Fly with me, Naomiâ€￾ I asked her, “let us fly the night sky together.â€￾ “I will.â€￾She answered.

And together we rose into the night sky.

Posted: Sat Jan 03, 2009 6:51 am
by Pandora
ouy the troubles with getting bored and frustrated. Trust me it's natural. I've been working on one piece of mine since I was 12, but that also has to credit to how many times it's been rewritten.

Anyways, I've found that it's better not to push yourself to write when ever you feel yourself getting bored or frustraited even. Pushing yourself do write when yuor heart isn't in it will cause your work to really go down hill. Besides writing is a long prosses that takes time and patients. It's not something that's going to just constaintly flow though you, that's just not natural.

Anywho I've found that the best way to get the flow going is do do thing like read over your own work, or just roll playing works for me. It's much easier to write when you keep in the habit of doing so.

well I hope I've told you something that can help you and good luck with the raven story, but if you want my honest opinion I think it would be better told in third person and not first person. I know you proubly wanted to catch intrest by showing the raven's prespective of things, but I don't know it just didn't seem right that way to me. Plus I think you should be a bit more clear with the drinking magic off of a blade of grass thing at the end. I got slightly lost there, and I had to read over it a few time to try and understand it. I'm really not sure if I understand it now but that just might be me being slow. lol.

It is something to think about after all, and if you still want to go with first person might I sugest you think about how you could make the chracter be more on a personal lvl with the reader. After all he's sharing both his experinces and inermost thoughts with the reader. There should be a lot more there I think. more detail can never hurt I asure you of that.

Other than that I think you've got a really good start of something there. Keep at it and I promise you, you won't regret it.

And I am very sorry if I've sound mean in any way. It's constructive critasisume that usually helps us grow the strongest in any situation. Hope you the best of luck.

Posted: Sat Jan 03, 2009 10:14 am
by Corva
And practise your paragraphs. Just something that will help if you ever want to get it publsihd (probably).

Good story, although the repeated use of the letter-word 'I' was a bit boring, as was the repeated use of the word 'said'.

Posted: Sat Jan 03, 2009 4:49 pm
by Sither
Your not being mean at all. The mean ones are prople who tell you it sucks and leave it at that and people who tell you they love it. That's why I asked you guys instead of my english teacher or my parents.

First off, ya the ending was a little off. Also, it would do better if I did third person. I really don't understand ravens well enough for first person. The first person view I am really good at describing accuretly are mako sharks. I do make them more intellegent then they are, but that's just to make a story. Mako sharks don't live in groups, so they have the personna of a Vagabond(wanderer) They also see things in a kill or be killed kind of way. Lone soldiar kind of view. I was going to write a book titled Mako but I didn't have any story line. There were too little significant events. I think in order for a story to become an actual novel, you need more then one page of outline.


So it looks like I'm not done with the raven story after all *Sigh*. Still, it's better that the first story I send to a publisher be a good one. First impressions often make the most diffrence. Has anyone noticed that sometimes I talk like an old book? Ever since I read Black Beauty Iv'e been stuck talking that way. Sometimes I use old english which really messes people up.

Opps, I typed a couple of too long paragraphs again. Oh well, I'm going to stop rambiling now. I don't want to have the Stephen King Syndrome.

Posted: Sun Jan 04, 2009 12:07 pm
by Corva
That's why I asked you guys instead of my english teacher or my parents.
I gave my story to my English teachers, and they've (promised to) mark it. You know, with marking the grammer and everything.



What Stephen King syndrome...??

Posted: Sun Jan 04, 2009 6:17 pm
by Sither
I'm talking about when he goes off on tangents and rambels on and on about things that really don't have that much impact on the main plot. The Stand was one big tangent. I try not to do that, it annoyes people.

Why do I have to ask my ELA teachers to proofread my stories. My mom is an attorny. They spell EVERYTHING right.

Posted: Mon Jan 05, 2009 9:03 pm
by Pandora
I by no means ment of you to give up on it comepletly. You've got something going here you just need to work on it more.
It's got quite a bit of potential.

If you want you can put a simalar one on the Rping part of our boards. Sometimes it helps to bounce ideas off of yur friends as long as you don't ruthlessly steal ideas from us we don't mind. Just don't use ourchracters or their backgrounds. I've done a few rollplays just to get them to interact with diffrent characters and get a real feel for the character I'm writing about. You see in my expereince My characters always seemed to build a past and personalty from this. They you can just build on that.

Posted: Wed Jan 07, 2009 3:47 pm
by Corva
Just don't use ourchracters or their backgrounds
Erm.. Falconer? :oops: