Writing School

[RiverStorm]

This bit of information makes it very intriguing.

 

[Fanci Feathers Marans]

But, but it was just about the snow. there's plenty more going on. You are right though. I could have written it better. hmmmmm.

Want kudos give effort

 

[Fanci Feathers Marans]

Where do the ponies live? Does it have to be present day?

No, not really. I'm really just looking for characterization

 

[Rose Quartz]

Want kudos give effort

Heh heh heh alright. I'll have to actually spend some time on writing I guess.

 

[Amer]

No, not really. I'm really just looking for characterization

Ok. I won't give her a history then. It will be easier that way. Give me ideas on how to make my blizzard writing better. I feel like it's missing something.

 

[Fanci Feathers Marans]

Heh heh heh alright. I'll have to actually spend some time on writing I guess.

rOaSt

 

[Fanci Feathers Marans]

Ok. I won't give her a history then. It will be easier that way. Give me ideas on how to make my blizzard writing better. I feel like it's missing something.

Wait. Did you post one or

 

[Amer]

Wait. Did you post one or

I posted 2. The first one is better though. The second was me thinking out loud. I'll make a new seco

Fine enough.

Spoiler: Weather

The strange, barren landscape of the planet Rolkow spread out before Wakanda. She felt a brisk wind brush her olive colored face, giving it a pink shade. Her shiny black braids poking out of her taiden fur hood were tossed by the wind. It whistled over the stark white hills and cliffs. Snow covered everything, blown into sastrugi. Not an animal was to be seen. The emptiness of the landscape seemed to reflect off of how empty her soul felt. She felt alone. But she was not alone. Not yet. She looked off into the distance, to where her home and family was, crowded around a little purple fire, wondering if she would bring home food. She would try.
Snow fell, though Wakanda hardly noticed. The thundering crash of the waves called her.
She walked out to a little hill and crested it. Even though it had seemed like the icy wasteland was endless, it was only that hills hid what was beyond. Wind blew into her face as she looked out into the vastness. Great cobalt waves, speckled with frazil and sea ice crashed dramatically against the rocks below. The ocean. Wakandda carefully climbed down the path to the rocky beach, thanking her lucky stars for the treaded boots her father gave her. A fall onto the rocks or into the icy water would be fatal. She used the light spear she carried as a stave. Pebbles skipped out from beneath her to the white crest of a wave.
Finally she had made it to the beach, looking for a slab of ice to spear fish from And then she looked up at the clouds...
They swirled ominously, purple, swollen with snow. Snow that could keep you inside for days. It was going to be a three dog night, and not one dog to share it with, she thought grimly. Wakanda remembered what happened to her last dog. It was caught in a storm like this...
And so she ran. She began to scramble up up a cliff, dropping her spear. The wind tugged at her, trying to pull her off. She clutched as hard as she could, trying not to think about the sharp rocks below, or the frigid waters. She looked for her will to survive, inching up the slippery cliff path. It couldn't really be called a path though. Most of it was cliff. Her fingers finally closed around the top and she hauled herself up. Though she was tired she began to run.
Tiny flake drove into her cheeks and blinded her. The hills around her had disappeared in the fury. She hunched her back and fought for her steps forward. The footprints she left were instantly blown away. Anything that still wasn't buried in snow would soon be buried in snow. If I die here, will they ever find me? The wind howled for her to give up. If I am to both otherwise die giving up, why don't I at least die trying?
Wakanda squeezed her eyes shut, snow speckling her black lids. She wasn't cold yet, the snow hadn't soaked into her resistant clothes. But if it did, she wouldn't have much time to live. She remembered something and pulled a mask out of her pocket. Now everything was safe except the area around her eyes.
She stumbled several times, then crawled for what seemed like forever. Each step she took with her knees and her arms seemed impossibly difficult. Tears rolled down her face and froze upon her mask. The cave didn't seem to get closer, and when it did, she saw nothing, just a blinding white nothing in front of her, odd spots of color floating through her vision.
She reached the cave entrance, and by now it seemed all a dream, as she fell in a wet bedraggled lump in the strange purple light. Alive, and home.

 

[Fanci Feathers Marans]

Fine enough.

Spoiler: Weather

The strange, barren landscape of the planet Rolkow spread out before Wakanda. She felt a brisk wind brush her olive colored face, giving it a pink shade. Her shiny black braids poking out of her taiden fur hood were tossed by the wind. It whistled over the stark white hills and cliffs. Snow covered everything, blown into sastrugi. Not an animal was to be seen. The emptiness of the landscape seemed to reflect off of how empty her soul felt. She felt alone. But she was not alone. Not yet. She looked off into the distance, to where her home and family was, crowded around a little purple fire, wondering if she would bring home food. She would try.
Snow fell, though Wakanda hardly noticed. The thundering crash of the waves called her.
She walked out to a little hill and crested it. Even though it had seemed like the icy wasteland was endless, it was only that hills hid what was beyond. Wind blew into her face as she looked out into the vastness. Great cobalt waves, speckled with frazil and sea ice crashed dramatically against the rocks below. The ocean. Wakandda carefully climbed down the path to the rocky beach, thanking her lucky stars for the treaded boots her father gave her. A fall onto the rocks or into the icy water would be fatal. She used the light spear she carried as a stave. Pebbles skipped out from beneath her to the white crest of a wave.
Finally she had made it to the beach, looking for a slab of ice to spear fish from And then she looked up at the clouds...
They swirled ominously, purple, swollen with snow. Snow that could keep you inside for days. It was going to be a three dog night, and not one dog to share it with, she thought grimly. Wakanda remembered what happened to her last dog. It was caught in a storm like this...
And so she ran. She began to scramble up up a cliff, dropping her spear. The wind tugged at her, trying to pull her off. She clutched as hard as she could, trying not to think about the sharp rocks below, or the frigid waters. She looked for her will to survive, inching up the slippery cliff path. It couldn't really be called a path though. Most of it was cliff. Her fingers finally closed around the top and she hauled herself up. Though she was tired she began to run.
Tiny flake drove into her cheeks and blinded her. The hills around her had disappeared in the fury. She hunched her back and fought for her steps forward. The footprints she left were instantly blown away. Anything that still wasn't buried in snow would soon be buried in snow. If I die here, will they ever find me? The wind howled for her to give up. If I am to both otherwise die giving up, why don't I at least die trying?
Wakanda squeezed her eyes shut, snow speckling her black lids. She wasn't cold yet, the snow hadn't soaked into her resistant clothes. But if it did, she wouldn't have much time to live. She remembered something and pulled a mask out of her pocket. Now everything was safe except the area around her eyes.
She stumbled several times, then crawled for what seemed like forever. Each step she took with her knees and her arms seemed impossibly difficult. Tears rolled down her face and froze upon her mask. The cave didn't seem to get closer, and when it did, she saw nothing, just a blinding white nothing in front of her, odd spots of color floating through her vision.
She reached the cave entrance, and by now it seemed all a dream, as she fell in a wet bedraggled lump in the strange purple light. Alive, and home.

Gaaaaarhhhhh
I know you probably don't know what Wakanda really is but you're killin me here.
Change le name.

Also. When writing stuff like this, I see people try an go into immediate detail of the surroundings and globbing big fat flowery writing everywhere like old nail polish.
Doooon't
Doooo
That

I will admit, I was too lazy to read through all of it, and I feel like you had a cool image in your head when you started this, but you gotta get the reader to eat it.

So.
I shall... instructions. Maybe.

When drawing, you start with the general idea first. If you start with the tiny details it might end in disaster. No noo nat.
Take the age old story telling method for instance. "Once upon a time, in a blustery snowland with wretched icey coldness that could freeze off a snowman's buttcheek..." Now you can introduce character first, but the main idea for this prompt was the surroundings. You don't just want to say it was cold, either. Write the effects of the cold. Maybe a few fingers turning blue, or lack of plants or even just someone complaining "I'm cold." will do.

Research some snowy places. Art is better with references, so get yoself a reference pic and write about it. Look for some more interesting or rare words about snow that you could sprinkle into the pages. Ever heard of hoar frost? No? Neither did I, but it sounds cool.

In short, don't pay too much wording to, well, wording. Tell the reader what they need to know.

 

[Fanci Feathers Marans]

@LilJoe
@LittlePip21
@puffypoo22
Wanna join?

Spoiler: Weather

Isn't the best, but I wrote it, might as well prove it. I think a really cool chicken role play would be a winter one. Or a desert one. (I've always wanted to go to the desert. Really really bad. That's part of the reason I did desert cats.)
(I wondered what it would be like for chickens trying to survive winter in my climate.)
The snow had fallen overnight, soft and sparkly, with an untouched look that urged you to walk in it. It looked like an ordinary Midwestern forest winter scene, snow blanketing trees and the forest floor. But this place was nothing but ordinary.
There were chickens living in the forest. They had been only been released that spring.
Normally friends would be grouped together in their favorite roosting spots, instead of the flock sharing one area.
Pecks fluffed snow off herself and nudged Sundrop, who was perched next to her. "Look! Wake up Sundrop! Snow!"
A lot of the snow Pecks shook off sunk deep into Sundrops feathers. "As if you needed to remind me when you dumped it down my back," she grumbled.
"Come on, let's see what it's like!" said Pecks. She hopped off the slender branch she was perched on and jumped into the snow."Gee, it's cold," she said.
Sundrop didn't want to leave the perch, but she followed anyways. "How are we going to find food now that it's gotten cold?" She asked.
"Oh, that's easy," Pecks said breezily. "We... well we..."
"So you don't know what we are going to do? Great," said Sundrop.
"You chose to be leader of us two, not me. I, I don't need responsibilities," said Peck.
"You always have ideas, even if they are horribly harebrained," Sundrop said.
"See, I told you you needed me," Peck tried sticking out her tongue, but it looked like she had a yawning disorder or something. "Anyways, there's berries," she said.
"Lets get the berries," Sundrop yawned.
They wandered deep into the woods. Pecks got the feeling she was being watched.
"Fox!" Sundrop screamed. A red blur reached out for her, and Pecks flew into a tree. There was no use trying to fight a fox, especially in the snow, when it had an advantage. Sundrop dropped bunches of yellow feathers and broke free. All the fox had in it's mouth were feathers!
Pecks alerted any chickens who were near as Sundrop flew into a tree. The fox paced as it left black footprints in the snow.
"That was a close one," Sundrop gasped.
Pecks turned her head to her far seeing eye, giving her a view deep into the woods. "I think it has left," she said finally. "We just have to be more cautious."
The pair of them walked to where the rest of the flock was gathered. It was agreed that some of the roosters would watch and others would find food. The hens still layed eggs, even this late in the year.
Soon they found an elderberry bush and began eating. Once they had eaten their fill, they didn't feel like doing much else in the cold snow. The days were shorter anyways, so they settled together in a fir to roost, fluffed up, and sharing body heat.
"It looks like it's going to snow," said Pecks nervously. She carefully shut her eyes, but the wind began to blow something fierce. Sundrop leaned closer, hiding her head under Pecks' stippled brown wing. She felt jealous of the chicken a few branches down with the tiny pea comb.
The harsh wind broke on the thick needles on the fir. It insulated them, along with the snow that was clinging to the branches. Sundrop was grateful to have Pecks by her side, and nuzzled deeper, feeling the skin. Like a little heater. She covered her toes carefully with her breast feathers and wondered what it was like to be Petra, a hen with a few foot feather.
Pecks nuzzled closer. And the night passed. The birds stretched, never knowing they were strong enough to survive a night of snow.

I actually like the beginning of this one better. It's still a bit long for the given stage, though.