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Thread: A story I wrote for my creative writing class

  1. #16
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    Sorry...interesting this thread popped up this week. I hadn't written anything creatively for months, and then wrote this Friday night. Not sure where I'm going with it, but I wrote it after remembering seeing some high-school aged kids hanging out on a rock on a float trip two summers ago.

    “Yeah, but what’s going to become of us, Dave? Are we even going to remember all this?”

    “Oh, **** that. We’re not going to spend this summer talking about dumb shit like that.”

    But we were. It was halfway through our final summer together, at least in that serene childhood setting where no one had serious jobs and we all still thought we were running from authority. We’d spent the half of it wondering what was next, even though most of us knew.

    But Dave didn’t. That was the irony. He was the one whose future was just unknown.

    Cal was going to college. Eventually, he would turn a pre-law degree from the U into being a high-priced corporate lawyer in Chicago. Two-point-five kids, white-picket fence in the ‘burbs. It was a predetermined future. Hell, it might have been the past before it was the future.

    “That makes no ******* sense,” Cal said.

    “What makes no ******* sense?” Dave was mocking him.

    “Well, we’ve spent half the summer staring at these falls hoping some hot chick would come by that we somehow didn’t ******* know, and talking about the end of August. And it’s near the ******* end of July.”

    “Jeez. You make it sound so dire.”

    Dave was always the one who “didn’t give a ****,” but we all knew he did. Or thought we knew he did. His mother died when he was a kid. Some bad accident before he moved to town – he didn’t talk about it much. His father was an alcoholic, who waltzed into town about once every six months proclaiming his sobriety to everyone and always talking about some new job he had in Omaha.

    When Dave was younger he always tried to sneak Dave away and take him back to Omaha. The few times he actually got out of town, he’d show back up in town a few hours later, most times with a police escort.

    It was like one of those ******* Academy Award winning movies that everyone goes to and cries about and hyperbolically praises the new childhood star who plays the kid and the old, downtrodden actor who revitalized his career by playing the drunk dad.

    But it was Dave’s life. Yet Dave somehow always rose above it all. Had better grades. Won the ******* sports trophy. Except for the run ins with the law. That must have just run in the family.

    But when it came to college, Dave turned down all the scholarships.

    I’m not college material, he would always tell us. We knew it was a lie. He was the best and the brightest. Never could figure him out.
    “**** this. Let’s go.”

    “Where we going Dave?” I asked, lifting my head up off the rock.

    “****’d if I know. Not here.”
    *The statements above are my opinions, unless they are links, because then they are links, which wouldn't make them my opinions, and I suppose stats aren't necessarily opinion, but they are certainly presented to support an opinion. Proceed accordingly.

    Quote Originally Posted by Valar Morghulis View Post
    I wasn't being especially serious, I just thought you were retarded enough that your comment was genuine

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  3. #17
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    I'm still fiddling with this story. The hardest thing is the treatment of this being that exists beyond human ken.
    The sharp edge of a razor is difficult to pass over; thus the wise say the path to Salvation is hard.

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    Quote Originally Posted by MOtorboat View Post
    Sorry...interesting this thread popped up this week. I hadn't written anything creatively for months, and then wrote this Friday night. Not sure where I'm going with it, but I wrote it after remembering seeing some high-school aged kids hanging out on a rock on a float trip two summers ago.
    You wrote that? Wow. You are gifted dude.
    The sharp edge of a razor is difficult to pass over; thus the wise say the path to Salvation is hard.

  5. #19
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    I am musing tonight on the possibility of a novel or similar long form of fiction.

    My problem is that I obsess on the big ideas instead of interesting stories. The passion I want to share is my own relationship to existence, but this is hard in practice. HP Lovecraft did a passable job of it.

    Here are some notes from my brainstorming tonight.

    Different levels of rationality.
    Different axiomatic systems. Different logic forms. Godel.
    Spectra. Unlimited spectra. What is a spectra.
    Creation. Creating new spectra.
    Time, the nowness, tracking identity
    Memory as identity and meaning
    Something beyond void and form.
    Anxiety because aware and this is first precept of existence, the axiom
    A nothingness so profound and powerful. Like the assertive force that insists on mindlessness when breath counting, but its boss's boss. A black hole with a gravity pull of consciousness beyond anything, no entity-ness allowed. But then the thing that insists on that rule.
    But what of the space between matter, isn't this just nothingness?
    Could it be that a true nothingness is the dimensional structure itself, the scaffolding that is itself barren of shape and form. That is, the mere existence of three dimensions, no matter or mass or energy implied, nothing to be contained, but just the dimensionality. Isn't this the most empty of things? Without that spatial framework, existence is a closed warmness. It is the creation of possibility and location that invites the loneliness of void.
    So what are the next set of locational (location as metaphor) dimensions?
    What about an endless set of dimensions that resulted in beings that never died and would likely never encounter other beings? In time space and so on. In dimensions unknown.
    There are beings that do not die. They are apart from our three dimensional space and apart from time.
    The rules, laws of existence...in our case physical laws. A reality where they are laws only because it's one possibility of laws and nothing has shifted to require other laws.
    The sharp edge of a razor is difficult to pass over; thus the wise say the path to Salvation is hard.

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  7. #20
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    Hawg, I have a book I'm writing for funsies. Our dialogue is kind of similar.

  8. #21
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    Quote Originally Posted by Hawgdriver View Post
    I am musing tonight on the possibility of a novel or similar long form of fiction.

    My problem is that I obsess on the big ideas instead of interesting stories. The passion I want to share is my own relationship to existence, but this is hard in practice. HP Lovecraft did a passable job of it.

    Here are some notes from my brainstorming tonight.

    Different levels of rationality.
    Different axiomatic systems. Different logic forms. Godel.
    Spectra. Unlimited spectra. What is a spectra.
    Creation. Creating new spectra.
    Time, the nowness, tracking identity
    Memory as identity and meaning
    Something beyond void and form.
    Anxiety because aware and this is first precept of existence, the axiom
    A nothingness so profound and powerful. Like the assertive force that insists on mindlessness when breath counting, but its boss's boss. A black hole with a gravity pull of consciousness beyond anything, no entity-ness allowed. But then the thing that insists on that rule.
    But what of the space between matter, isn't this just nothingness?
    Could it be that a true nothingness is the dimensional structure itself, the scaffolding that is itself barren of shape and form. That is, the mere existence of three dimensions, no matter or mass or energy implied, nothing to be contained, but just the dimensionality. Isn't this the most empty of things? Without that spatial framework, existence is a closed warmness. It is the creation of possibility and location that invites the loneliness of void.
    So what are the next set of locational (location as metaphor) dimensions?
    What about an endless set of dimensions that resulted in beings that never died and would likely never encounter other beings? In time space and so on. In dimensions unknown.
    There are beings that do not die. They are apart from our three dimensional space and apart from time.
    The rules, laws of existence...in our case physical laws. A reality where they are laws only because it's one possibility of laws and nothing has shifted to require other laws.
    Was there any psilocybin involved here? Some pretty existential stuff goin on. I like it.

    Regarding your challenge of distilling big ideas down to interesting stories... Maybe try a bottom-up brainstorm to complement this top-down version. Write bits of dialogue, or short 1-2 page "stories/scenes" that get at any of these principles, no matter how disconnected they are. One Tim Ferris principle that's always resonated for me is that if you write 30 pages of nonsense and 1 page of it has legs - that's exactly what you needed to get to that page.

    I also listened to the latest BS pod with Matt Stone and Trey Parker and they said that most of their writing comes out of a single ridiculous concept - they write a one minute scene (usually 2 pages) and then go from there not knowing if it's the beginning, middle, end, etc.

    Your top down exercise gives you a good menu of topics to start from.

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  10. #22
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    Anyone written anything lately?

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    No, but I have a great idea for a novel.

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    Quote Originally Posted by BeefStew25 View Post
    No, but I have a great idea for a novel.
    Spill it.
    The sharp edge of a razor is difficult to pass over; thus the wise say the path to Salvation is hard.

  13. #25
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    Quote Originally Posted by Hawgdriver View Post
    Spill it.
    I don’t want to get vulnerable here. Do you text?

  14. #26

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    I wrote a good short story in high school.

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