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Writer's Craft Dump

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The Host
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« on: March 02, 2012, 07:55:26 pm »

I'm currently taking a creative writing course in school, and I guess I'll post some of the stuff I've written here, so that hopefully I can get C&C to better develop my writing skills. Feel free to comment.


Eye of the Storm
   The glass-like surface of the lake glitters in the golden early morning sun, which radiates with life and power while suspended in a blue, cloudless sky. Dawn on the edge of the lake is silent; the world is lifeless. I close my eyes and lean back in the ever-decaying wooden Muskoka chair that rests upon a faded red, equally decayed dock, which itself extends from a thin bar of silver beach sand that runs endlessly and tirelessly around the lake and into the horizon.
   The entire world is shocked by disturbed waves that ripple outward; originating at a single point on the lake, where the stone which I threw collided with and shattered its delicate surface. The peaceful silence is instantly destroyed and replaced by a corrupt cacophony of chaos. From out of the chaos life emerges: birds cry and sing to each other, bullfrogs croak lazy melodies which in turn awaken the buzzing hoards of water bugs and flying insect pests. I’m immersed in a thundering sound- a crashing waterfall pours over my head. I feel like I’m in the middle of a full blown orchestra.
   The staleness of the lake- after lying in peaceful sleep all night- rises up from the murky depths and into my mouth, while the stagnant bitterness of unmoving weeds covered in mud assaults my nose. The lake fades into an uncontrollable state in which waves crash against the shore: their white caps spraying foam and specks of dust into the wind.
   I am overcome by it all- the incomprehensible noise, the blur of the world around me. But it slowly dies down, or rather; it grows and engulfs me within it. The endless chaos becomes a peaceful resting place. I am surrounded by an awesome power, and yet here I am, completely undisturbed. Here I am in my place: the eye of the storm.
This is one of the first things I've done. Not sure how I feel about it. I was restricted to 300 words, which is why it might seem a bit rushed and cluttered. I may flesh it out later.

Untitled
I'm surrounded on all sides by walls and windows. I don't know which is worse- the unknown forced upon me by the walls or the unattainable shown to me by the windows.
Just a really quick thing from class. It was more of a one-off thing that a character was thinking to himself...

The Guitarist
The first time that I was lucky enough to meet her was in chemistry class- she sat a few seats over from me. I didn’t get to know her until our shared spare last semester. I met her in the library one day, where she was sitting amongst her friends. She asked me to sit down and I immediately felt included by her smile, which was both nervous and confident, as if she was ready to break out and shine like a superstar. Coincidently, I learned that she played guitar in a band and was scheduled to perform in a few weeks. She also enjoys writing songs and lyrics, and for the fun of it she began to write a song with lyrics focusing on me.
I fell in love with her that day: her straight, silky black hair; her brown eyes that shone brightly and honestly with a hint of sadness and twinkle when she smiles and glitter when she laughs; her quirky smile that embodied confidence not only in herself, but in others around her as well; her voice so unique as it draws you in, like a soothing piano melody or the sweet summer sound of an acoustic guitar. And when it’s all put together as one picture, you’re left with the most perfect and amazing person in the world.
The closest we have ever been together was the cold winter night during which her band performed at a nearby theatre. After she had performed, she and one of her friends sat down next to me in the darkened theatre just as another performer began to sing a melodic love song. I can’t- nor would I- make up something as unlikely as this: we sat together in the rickety theatre seats as a beautiful love song cried out in thirsting pain and need through the speakers. My heart pounded against my chest, my mind tried in vain to grasp what was going on and instead was lost in the atmospheric music, and my lips could not hide a smile of pure joy. My fingers drummed on my knees to the beat of the song, and she mouthed the words to the song while a smile slowly crept onto her face.
Her friend threw a paper airplane at one of her band mates, ending that moment, but bringing about another. We turned to face each other, looks of shock on our faces because neither of us had imagined that she’d throw the plane. We both burst out laughing at the abnormality of the situation.
Later that night we walked out of the theatre and into the cool, brisk January night. We stood together in silence, enjoying the moment. She stared at me with soft eyes and a warm smile that made me forget about the chill of the night. She thanked me for coming to watch her band, and I told her that I wouldn’t have missed the performance for the world.
I wouldn’t have missed her for the world.
It's supposed to be a profile or someone. I distorted it a bit to make it contain all the stuff we needed for the assignment, but it remains pretty close to the truth...
 
« Last Edit: March 30, 2012, 04:27:28 pm by The Host » Report Spam   Logged

Not being able to speak is not the same as not having anything to say

And in the end we lie awake and we dream of making our escape
The Host
Raven Shredder
Craftsman
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« Reply #1 on: March 02, 2012, 07:55:50 pm »

Claimed For Future Entries...
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Not being able to speak is not the same as not having anything to say

And in the end we lie awake and we dream of making our escape
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