BYC Writer thread

[horsecrazychicklovingkid]

Well, I'm a bit of a writer. I suppose I can whip something up right now, just because I feel like it. I'm sure it's pure garbage, but I don't care. I have plenty of other opportunity to write better, and this is just to satisfy my hunger.

It's a well-framed picture, I suppose you'd say. That is, if you're standing at the right angle, like we are. In fact, you could even take the camera from the girl's bag -- no, not that one -- the smaller one. There's a camera there. You can't see it, of course. It's covered up, but it's there.
Her name is Bethany Shale. She was blond when she was younger, but brown streaks have come in. Dirty blond? Yes, that's what I'd call it. She's standing right there in the center of the sidewalk that leads up to the library. She's dressed in nice clothing, but she's kept it simple. Shirt, nice jacket, pants that don't quite fit, some black flats that are so shiny they look like they must have been bought just for this occasion. Her back, which is facing us, is criss-crossed with two thick, black straps. The straps are attached to heavy-looking black bags. You know, the ones I mentioned earlier. The smaller, squarish one is her camera bag, and the other one holds a laptop. No, they don't belong to her parents, but she didn't exactly buy them herself. It's rather complicated, you see.
Why is she here, you wonder? I can tell you that. She's meeting in one of the back rooms with the editor of a family magazine. Didn't you wonder what the laptop and camera are for? She's going to see if she can get a job there. What as? I can't tell you that, not yet. She has to meet with the editor first. She's going to apply for a photography job, but it's possible she may be just doing some side things. You know, advertisements, graphics, text... oh yes, graphics and text. She's a triple threat - she can write, she can draw, and she can take pictures. Don't gawk, please. It's not very becoming.
How old is she? Twelve. Of course it's legal. Under special circumstances, of course... but I don't know all the details.
Wait -- she's stopped staring at the library now. I think she's going to go in. She's walking in ... My, but she looks scared. Don't you think? I hope she does well.

Who am I, you ask? How do I know so much about her? I don't know what you're talking about. I know very little about her. I AM her author, after all.

I love it.

 

[clucky3255]

Sorry the writing isn't as good as I wish it was. I wrote this story a few months ago.

I liked it!

 

[clucky3255]

Well, I'm a bit of a writer. I suppose I can whip something up right now, just because I feel like it. I'm sure it's pure garbage, but I don't care. I have plenty of other opportunity to write better, and this is just to satisfy my hunger.

It's a well-framed picture, I suppose you'd say. That is, if you're standing at the right angle, like we are. In fact, you could even take the camera from the girl's bag -- no, not that one -- the smaller one. There's a camera there. You can't see it, of course. It's covered up, but it's there.
Her name is Bethany Shale. She was blond when she was younger, but brown streaks have come in. Dirty blond? Yes, that's what I'd call it. She's standing right there in the center of the sidewalk that leads up to the library. She's dressed in nice clothing, but she's kept it simple. Shirt, nice jacket, pants that don't quite fit, some black flats that are so shiny they look like they must have been bought just for this occasion. Her back, which is facing us, is criss-crossed with two thick, black straps. The straps are attached to heavy-looking black bags. You know, the ones I mentioned earlier. The smaller, squarish one is her camera bag, and the other one holds a laptop. No, they don't belong to her parents, but she didn't exactly buy them herself. It's rather complicated, you see.
Why is she here, you wonder? I can tell you that. She's meeting in one of the back rooms with the editor of a family magazine. Didn't you wonder what the laptop and camera are for? She's going to see if she can get a job there. What as? I can't tell you that, not yet. She has to meet with the editor first. She's going to apply for a photography job, but it's possible she may be just doing some side things. You know, advertisements, graphics, text... oh yes, graphics and text. She's a triple threat - she can write, she can draw, and she can take pictures. Don't gawk, please. It's not very becoming.
How old is she? Twelve. Of course it's legal. Under special circumstances, of course... but I don't know all the details.
Wait -- she's stopped staring at the library now. I think she's going to go in. She's walking in ... My, but she looks scared. Don't you think? I hope she does well.

Who am I, you ask? How do I know so much about her? I don't know what you're talking about. I know very little about her. I AM her author, after all.

Ha Ha! LOOOOOOOOVE IT!

 

[clucky3255]

Alaya spun around slowly, the Dark Lord Balmone’s evil
Shadows began to close in on her. She pointed her armed bow at everything, afraid that it might jump out at her. Her brown braid hung down her back, and beads of cold sweat appeared on her tan forehead. Desperate but completely helpless, Alaya swung out an arm at the nearest Shadow, only for it to be grasped by a ugly scarred, black hand; it’s long fingers were covered with rotting flesh. She screamed and kicked furiously but the Shadows only laughed mercilessly at the poor girl. A noise was heard and all the Shadows stopped in their tracks. Alaya’s eyes looked heavenward and into the blue sky. “Lord! If you are up there! Let that be my rescuer!” She opened her mouth but nothing but a groan came out.
The Shadow released her arm and slammed it’s putrid hands over it’s ears, or what seemed to be ears. Their body was cloaked in a black Shadowy veil, which hides all of their skeletal bodies from human sight, and leads to their name. The Shadows. Bewildered by The Shadows action she looked around her. All of the evil Shadows were doing the same. As if something horrible was hurting their ears; not only their ears, their dark bodies trembled in and fear. They were on the ground writhing with pain that surged through their scarred body. A sweet sound, like singing, reached her ears. A crystalline clear voice floated through the cloudless sky as if from the heavens. No figure of any sort was revealed to her eyes, but Alaya did not take any chances. This was God’s message to her. She had to escape the clutches of these Shadows….now. She flung her brown braid behind her once more and jumped Shadow after Shadow. The did not seem to notice her as she stumbled and fell on top of them. With Each leap she sent up a prayer of thanks.



Page one
When she reached the edge of the clearing the Shadows still clung to each other in pain and agony. Alaya wasted no time and tore into the woods; vines and branches slapped her face as she ran through the forest desperate for safety. She pondered as she ran; “Who sang?”
The sweet voice sang on, no matter how far away she got into the forest of thorns and trees the voice never sounded far away. Panting she stopped and glared up at the heavens. A bright shape formed before her eyes and it threw out a silver box. She guarded her face with her arms and waited for it to hit her. Nothing. Confused , Alaya slowly removed her arms from her face and stared at the silver box that hung motionless in the air just above her. She lifted it out of the air carefully. The lid popped off easily and a canteen of water sat at the bottom. At the sight of it, Alaya’s mouth went dry. She quenched her thirst and smoothed her braid back, before pressing on towards her home. No fear. No enemy…..for a while. When Alaya got to the top of the nearest ridge she stood and watched over the house. Un-certain whether to go into the house or not, for she had no game. The game was scared of the Shadows that Lord Balmone had sent out to destroy as many people as they possibly can. Now, their secret was out. They hated singing. Alaya ,who knew many songs, smiled to herself. But alas she was shaken back into reality by her father’s voice, “ALAYA! COME DOWN FROM THERE!” She was given a start and swayed on the ridge. “FATH--!!” She cried out, thrashed her arms and fell…rolling down the steep dangerous hill. She rolled down the ridge, hitting every branch, log and rock that she could see. On one particularly large rock she was knocked out cold. Alaya was thankful however for that, because she could not feel anything. Alaya lay on the ground, her world was a cold black galaxy. No stars or a moon. No sign of any life….she did not even know if she was alive. Her father, who had seen all of this ran to her aid.
Page two
Near one hour later, Alaya finally blinked open her green eyes. They stared blankly at the ceiling, as if to penetrate the brown wooden ceiling. Her body ached from head to foot and she tried to sit up, but was thrown back unto her thin pillow by a blast of excruciating pain. A groan escaped her mouth. Hearing this moan, Sheila, Alaya’s sister, rushed over to the bedside. “Oh my! Mother! Look at that bump on her head!” Mother inspected it and frowned.
“It’ll heal on its own. Don’t worry about it Honey. ALAYA? You can get up whenever.”
Alaya sighed and rolled out of her hard bed. The floor spun and forced her to remained seated. She let out a moan and then steadied her self by grasping the edge of a wooden chair. Determined she picked up a empty game-bag and hobbled to the pantry. Stuffing in random food , Alaya slowly heaved it unto her back. Its scratchy fabric scraped across her neck and arms, but Alaya ignored it retreated to her room to dress, and grab a blanket. Her green tunic was accompanied by some black leggings and a dark blue blanket that was fastened to the bottom of the game-bag. Sheila gasped with horror and clasped her hands together. “Oh Mother! Look! She is leaving us!” Instant tears flowed down Sheila’s fragile white face. Alaya sighed and frowned. “Oh, turn blue! I am only going to go camping! I’ll be back in a couple of days! Jeepers!” Her voice was terse but it stopped Sheila from going into hysterics. Alaya fled the scene.
Her Mother and Father let her go, as usual and did not worry about her.

Back at her horse’s stable she whistled for her horse, Caspian. He was a regal looking white gelding. Caspian whinnied in response to the shrill whistle. They were setting off on a new adventure.




I added some more. I am sory it is not very exciting yet though. I am not finished!

 

[clucky3255]

Alaya spun around slowly, the Dark Lord Balmone’s evil
Shadows began to close in on her. She pointed her armed bow at everything, afraid that it might jump out at her. Her brown braid hung down her back, and beads of cold sweat appeared on her tan forehead. Desperate but completely helpless, Alaya swung out an arm at the nearest Shadow, only for it to be grasped by a ugly scarred, black hand; it’s long fingers were covered with rotting flesh. She screamed and kicked furiously but the Shadows only laughed mercilessly at the poor girl. A noise was heard and all the Shadows stopped in their tracks. Alaya’s eyes looked heavenward and into the blue sky. “Lord! If you are up there! Let that be my rescuer!” She opened her mouth but nothing but a groan came out.
The Shadow released her arm and slammed it’s putrid hands over it’s ears, or what seemed to be ears. Their body was cloaked in a black Shadowy veil, which hides all of their skeletal bodies from human sight, and leads to their name. The Shadows. Bewildered by The Shadows action she looked around her. All of the evil Shadows were doing the same. As if something horrible was hurting their ears; not only their ears, their dark bodies trembled in and fear. They were on the ground writhing with pain that surged through their scarred body. A sweet sound, like singing, reached her ears. A crystalline clear voice floated through the cloudless sky as if from the heavens. No figure of any sort was revealed to her eyes, but Alaya did not take any chances. This was God’s message to her. She had to escape the clutches of these Shadows….now. She flung her brown braid behind her once more and jumped Shadow after Shadow. The did not seem to notice her as she stumbled and fell on top of them. With Each leap she sent up a prayer of thanks.



Page one
When she reached the edge of the clearing the Shadows still clung to each other in pain and agony. Alaya wasted no time and tore into the woods; vines and branches slapped her face as she ran through the forest desperate for safety. She pondered as she ran; “Who sang?”
The sweet voice sang on, no matter how far away she got into the forest of thorns and trees the voice never sounded far away. Panting she stopped and glared up at the heavens. A bright shape formed before her eyes and it threw out a silver box. She guarded her face with her arms and waited for it to hit her. Nothing. Confused , Alaya slowly removed her arms from her face and stared at the silver box that hung motionless in the air just above her. She lifted it out of the air carefully. The lid popped off easily and a canteen of water sat at the bottom. At the sight of it, Alaya’s mouth went dry. She quenched her thirst and smoothed her braid back, before pressing on towards her home. No fear. No enemy…..for a while. When Alaya got to the top of the nearest ridge she stood and watched over the house. Un-certain whether to go into the house or not, for she had no game. The game was scared of the Shadows that Lord Balmone had sent out to destroy as many people as they possibly can. Now, their secret was out. They hated singing. Alaya ,who knew many songs, smiled to herself. But alas she was shaken back into reality by her father’s voice, “ALAYA! COME DOWN FROM THERE!” She was given a start and swayed on the ridge. “FATH--!!” She cried out, thrashed her arms and fell…rolling down the steep dangerous hill. She rolled down the ridge, hitting every branch, log and rock that she could see. On one particularly large rock she was knocked out cold. Alaya was thankful however for that, because she could not feel anything. Alaya lay on the ground, her world was a cold black galaxy. No stars or a moon. No sign of any life….she did not even know if she was alive. Her father, who had seen all of this ran to her aid.
Page two
Near one hour later, Alaya finally blinked open her green eyes. They stared blankly at the ceiling, as if to penetrate the brown wooden ceiling. Her body ached from head to foot and she tried to sit up, but was thrown back unto her thin pillow by a blast of excruciating pain. A groan escaped her mouth. Hearing this moan, Sheila, Alaya’s sister, rushed over to the bedside. “Oh my! Mother! Look at that bump on her head!” Mother inspected it and frowned.
“It’ll heal on its own. Don’t worry about it Honey. ALAYA? You can get up whenever.”
Alaya sighed and rolled out of her hard bed. The floor spun and forced her to remained seated. She let out a moan and then steadied her self by grasping the edge of a wooden chair. Determined she picked up a empty game-bag and hobbled to the pantry. Stuffing in random food , Alaya slowly heaved it unto her back. Its scratchy fabric scraped across her neck and arms, but Alaya ignored it retreated to her room to dress, and grab a blanket. Her green tunic was accompanied by some black leggings and a dark blue blanket that was fastened to the bottom of the game-bag. Sheila gasped with horror and clasped her hands together. “Oh Mother! Look! She is leaving us!” Instant tears flowed down Sheila’s fragile white face. Alaya sighed and frowned. “Oh, turn blue! I am only going to go camping! I’ll be back in a couple of days! Jeepers!” Her voice was terse but it stopped Sheila from going into hysterics. Alaya fled the scene.
Her Mother and Father let her go, as usual and did not worry about her.

Back at her horse’s stable she whistled for her horse, Caspian. He was a regal looking white gelding. Caspian whinnied in response to the shrill whistle. They were setting off on a new adventure.



Page Three
The wind howled in her ears as she prodded Caspian to a gallop.
His white mane looked flickering white flames as they flew everywhere in the wind. Alaya slowed him to a trot as they neared the forest edge, its dark, evil looking realm stopped her. Her previous encounter with Dark Lord Balmone’s, Shadows , flooded back to her like nightmare. She eyed the welts on her arm. What if they still are in there? Curiosity out weighed the fear, and she had to go in. Just to see.
She walked Caspian through the birch and oak that waved in the afternoon wind, giving the forest a even more eerie look.
She jumped in her saddle if anything moved. The rustling of leaves made even Caspian look quickly. Alaya swallowed. “God! This was foolish! Help me!” She whispered under her breath.
As she went on pairs of eyes glared at her through the darkness.






and more.

 

[clucky3255]

I gotta go get dresed for churhc! BYE!

 

[Dutchgirl]

Thanks.

 

[clucky3255]

Thanks.

Thanks what? Did I miss something?

 

[clucky3255]

Yo?

 

[clucky3255]

OK I think I missed something! Would somebody gladly tell me what Dutchgirl is happy about and is saying Thanks to?