@vanna
Active 6 years, 4 months ago- Rank: Charismatic Rebel
- Total Posts: 48
Forum Replies Created
-
Posts
-
I’m not finished with my current WIP yet so I’m just sticking with numbers for now. But provided they’re not spoiling anything (such as mentioning a death or a betrayal) I like chapter titles. They can build anticipation and make it easier for me to find my place if I loose it or to reread a favorite section. I can just look for the title that sparks my memory instead of taking a guess at a number.
*squees* So I know I haven’t been on here in ages, but this topic really sparked my interest. I read somewhere (can’t remember where) that a good love triangle should reflect two different directions the plot and/or character development could take. So the choice shouldn’t just be “hot guy v.s. hot guy”. It should have a definite effect on the story.
I would agree with the person who said that both points don’t necessarily have to be good people. For example, in a prequel story I’ve yet to write, the main heroine is the center of a love triangle between one of the male secondary characters and *gasp* the villain!
Basically, the villain thinks that he “deserves” and “understands” the heroine because they both have the same rare magical ability. So he’s trying to emotionally manipulate her into joining him by pitting her against her friends and the other guy she likes and by playing on her increasing feelings that they don’t really care/are using her.
At some point, she would have to choose between 1. Going with the villain and living selfishly or 2. Going with her friends and the second guy and (possibly) dying sacrificially. So her decision to act selfishly v.s. act sacrificially is physically symbolized by the two men.
1. The Scarlet Letter
2. The Sign of Four
3. Ender’s Game
@hannah-c It’s a note taking program. You write notes and organize them into “notebooks”. You can also add in pictures and link, and share notes with other Evernote users. The really neat part is that it saves them in something like ICloud, so you can access them anywhere. I can edit on my phone and have the changes appear on my computer. The free basic version lets you save 60 MB a month. You can pay to save more, but I’ve never exceeded that amount.
*shudder* This is why I use Evernote. I also keep addition copies of my chapters in Word on my computer.
@kate-flournoy Thanks! I’ve never written in present tense before, so that was interesting. And forgive my ignorance, but who’s Cobalt?
Disclaimer: I am not the first-person narrator.
Lincoln’s hand reaches out and brushes a loose strand of Alexia’s hair behind her ear. She leans forward, and their mouths draw close-
“No way!” shouts Alexia.
Wait. I didn’t write that.
I lean back in my seat and stare at the screen. Yep. Still there. Okay, don’t panic.
“I am not kissing him!” she yells, pushing Lincoln away.
“What are you doing? We’re not supposed to speak to the author!” he shouts back.
Welp, I’ve officially lost it. Now might be a good time to call my mom. Or a phyciatrist. One of the two.
“Look, I’m sorry, but this whole set up is ridiculous. There is no reason we should become a couple right now!” says Alexia, shooting a glare at me.
Okay, that’s it. It’s bad enough my mom ridicules my writing, but not my own creations too! My hands start typing furiously. “You two are perfect for each other! Why would you say that?”
Alexia huffs. “You want reasons? Fine. The mafia AND the police are after us, we just met three days ago, and we’ve been fighting nonstop since! This scene is not consistent with our current characterization and it comes completely out of nowhere!”
“So? Lots of couples that seem to hate each other fall in love.”
“Name one.” says Lincoln.
“Pride and Prejudice. Darcy and Elizabeth.”
Alexia rubs her temple. “Look. We’re grateful that you made us, but this is a mystery thriller, and Jane Austin you are not.”
Well that stung. My finger twitches towards the delete button, but sadly not quick enough.
“Exactly,” says Lincoln. “At least give us a bonding moment or something. All we’ve done so far is yell at each other.”
“And wait ’till later in the story,” she adds. “We’re on the run right now, and this sudden romantic moment isn’t just silly; its dangerous. We know Corbel and his goons are near by, and yet we’re still stopping!”
“Enough!” I yell-write. “You two are MY characters and you’ll do what I tell you!”
“Nope, sorry. We’re putting our foot down on this one,” say Alexia.
My hands are shaking with rage. The nerve of those two! I skip back to where I stopped and begin typing. Sadly, the only thing that appears is a line saying they were both glaring at me.
“Ugh! Fine, you win,” I type. Stupid characters not doing what they’re told. I should have listened to mom and stuck with painting; at least those don’t talk back to you. I think. Might want to look into that.
“Glad to see your being reasonable,” says Alexia, smirking with victory.
“Unlike some people,” says Lincoln.
And with that, the two go back to scowling at each other.
I delete the offending section while sighing with frustration. “I’m going to have to rework my outline thanks to you two. I hope you’re both happy.”
Our conversation disappears, which I take as a “yes”. I switch over to my outline and crack my knuckles.
Stupid characters.
Fun! I love fourth-wall breaking. Prompt: A character suddenly remembers something he’s forgotten. It could be anything from his identity to an errand he has to run.
Why do babies need a party anyway? thought Hecta, as she glared at the half-written invitation before her. It’s not like they can enjoy it.
She sighed and picked up her quill. Oh well. If the king and queen wanted to host an elaborate party for the newly-born Princess Aurora, then it was her duty as a loyal scribe to ensure all the invitations were sent out.
But that doesn’t make it any less of a pain. she thought.
The twelve fairies were powerful and important allies to the kingdom. They were also among the most important guest being invited to the party, and because of this, no one less than the Royal Scribe was qualified to make their invitations.
Which sadly, was herself.
Each invitation was painstakingly handmade. The paper was coordinated to the signature color of each fairy and lavishly decorated with hand-painted pictures of each one’s favorite flower. The elegant (yet readable) writing on the inside was her own signature style, one that had taken her years to perfect. It was some of her finest work, and truth be told, she couldn’t help being proud of herself. She had been working on them for the past two days and had finally reached the last one.
May Princess Aurora never have any siblings. thought Hecta, as she wiped her quill clean with a victorious flourish, and collapse into her seat. She sighed contently, relieved to finally be done. Her tranquil was soon disturbed however, when a knock sounded on her door.
“Enter.” she practically growled.
A terrified pageboy shuffled in and shoved a note into her face. Hecta snatched it out of his hand and sent him running from what he must have viewed as the dragon’s den. She opened the note and glanced over its contents, her eyes growing wide as she clutched the side of her chair in an attempt to contain her rage.
“Not another one!” she shouted.
But alas, it was true. The king had recently learn of a thirteenth fairy and wanted to extend to her an invitation. A wise move considering how easily offended some of their kind could be. In the note was written her signature color and favorite flower; black and wild roses.
Hecta groaned and placed her head in her hands. It was already past her standard working time. The sun had set, which meant she’d be working with black paper by candle light. Not to mention she’d have to mix some new ink in a color that would show up on the black paper. And who liked wild roses anyway? All she wanted was to lay down in her nice, soft bed and rest her cramped hands. But no, they just had to invite one more fairy the night before the invitations had to be sent out. She scowled at the note, and if looks could burn, then the paper would have burst into dragon-fire.
Cringing at the thought of picking up her quill one more time, she tossed the offending note on her desk. She’d just…do it in the morning. Sure, she might have to get up earlier in order to finish it before the courtiers departed, but she should be able to complete it in time. The invitation might be be a little more rushed than the others, but surely her skills could compensate for her lack of time. Secure in her reasoning, Hecta rose from her chair and practically ran to her bed.
The midmorning sun peeked through Hecta’s curtains and slowly roused her from her sleepy haze. She sat up in her bed and yawned, her unfocused eyes blinking lazily.
Until they snapped awake as her mind flooded with panic.
Oh no, oh no, oh no! she thought, dashing down the corridor with her robe flapping behind her.
She yanked open her office door and rushed to her desk, desperately hoping that maybe-
But no. The invitations were gone. All that was left was an uncut piece of black paper.
Hecta grasped the top of her chair in an attempt to steady herself as she fought down the bile rising in her throat.
Maybe, maybe it wasn’t so bad. The last fairy was new to the kingdom. She probably didn’t even know about baby Aurora. It was silly of the king to invite her anyway. It would be fine. It would be fine.
After all, what was the worst that could happen?
Whew! I do believe this was my first official short story. That was fun. Now for a prompt, hmmm…
Write a story where the main character runs into someone (or something) he/she never expected to see again.
You can put me in that group too @overcomer . I never seem to have enough shelf space.
@Greta. Thanks! *waves back* This place is definitely awesome. *puts on sunglasses* Yes! A fellow LOTR fan! I know exactly what you mean. 😀
@abigail-blomberg Welcome to KP! I just signed up myself a few days ago, but I can already tell that this is a great place . 🙂
