Oh, I didn't mean you were being bad at persuading your
really good. Darn, I keep getting my words mixed up.
Takes awhile. Oh, thanks! It really only just paused for a sec.
My second nature as my English teach says, as well
as for art.
Yep, only been writing stories since the night after watching
Howl. haha! Ghibli's been a big influence on me.

quote:

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Originally posted by foreignfilmfreak
Yep, only been writing stories since the night after watching
Howl. haha! Ghibli's been a big influence on me.

---

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Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)

Post last edited by Saddletank on 01.28.2007, 09:10 AM.

Actually Saddle, my characters aren't. I find the names,
look up the meanings, then place their personalities by
shutting my eyes for 5 mins.
Conall was a tough character though, unlike in another story
where Prince Chaos(darn CLAMP stole it) was a loving
character. My cuz ran around a giant book store reading
every title saying,"Jay, I can't find any stories like yours! How
do you do it?!". She's the only one, plus my mom, who will
read my books before I publish them.

quote:

---

Originally posted by foreignfilmfreak
I find the names,
look up the meanings, then place their personalities by
shutting my eyes for 5 mins.

---

That is really interesting how you create your characters. As for me, when I create a character, I just think of what I want the character to look like. Then, as if I were observing them across the street, I begin to wonder about them. Where are they going, what are they like, why are they dressed as they are? Once I have a few characters, I begin to think about what would happen if they met, and what do they mean to eachother and that kind of stuff. Additional characters are created if need be, and from there, a story begins to create itself

Lol, FFF, your writing was very dramatic It is rough, but it looks to me like it'll develop into a very personal style. At any rate, well above what I would expect from someone your age. I can't say that I have any idea of what has actually taken place in the story, but it was still engaging to read. It won't be too long before you give Saddle a run for his money (Saddle very nice work too).

Haha!
I don't even know for sure what its about. Heheh.
I could write the beginning. I told you beware.
And I'm not going to read it over. I guess you could
say I'm a dramatic author, that's true. My characters,
I don't know why, range from age 12-18 and the older
ones sound their age and I'm not even that old!(Haha)

quote:

---

Originally posted by Saddletank
I wrote a 25 chapter story in which there is no mucky stuff at all, not even one single kiss. The whole thing is pure and childlike and follows on from the movie, that was my first story and I feel its the closest to the true feel of the movie.

---

That sounds much better.

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Post last edited by arren18 on 01.25.2007, 01:39 PM.

i cried to et when i wa younger and my mum laughed at me. i cry at a lot of films im verey emotional.

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quote:

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Originally posted by arren18

quote:

---

Originally posted by Saddletank
I wrote a 25 chapter story in which there is no mucky stuff at all, not even one single kiss. The whole thing is pure and childlike and follows on from the movie, that was my first story and I feel its the closest to the true feel of the movie.

---

That sounds much better.

---

__________________
Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)

quote:

---

Originally posted by tamasaburo
i cried to et when i wa younger and my mum laughed at me. i cry at a lot of films im verey emotional.

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__________________
Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)

Thug: I was bored so I wrote a rap. You can have it if you like.


The world's at your feet
But you can't keep up the beat
And the word on the street
Is you ain't got the heat
You're makin ends meet
But you can't get to sleep
'Cos your losin your balance
And you can only repeat

(insert random chorus)

You gotta put out the fire
Before you can aim higher
You look so tired
'Cos you can't find your supplier
And you feel like a liar
'Cos you can't find the power
That you need to acquire
To take it to the wire

(insert random chorus again)



Feel free to add as much bad language as you like.

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quote:

---

Originally posted by Seiji

quote:

---

Originally posted by foreignfilmfreak
I find the names,
look up the meanings, then place their personalities by
shutting my eyes for 5 mins.

---

That is really interesting how you create your characters. As for me, when I create a character, I just think of what I want the character to look like. Then, as if I were observing them across the street, I begin to wonder about them. Where are they going, what are they like, why are they dressed as they are? Once I have a few characters, I begin to think about what would happen if they met, and what do they mean to eachother and that kind of stuff.

---

__________________
Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)

Well, aheh, I do create what my character is about a month or so I begin writing the story. I think writing is making me
lose my memory..hahaha..
Grr, but there are a few stubburn characters who I know
just what they'll look like in my head, but when I put the
pen to the paper, their personality makes me have trouble
drawing them, especially their eyes because I always like
the idea that the eyes are the soul or something..
And for quite a long while I've been trying to make a blind
person as a character. I always make my characters as interesting as possible. I even plan out my poor poor minor
characters personality. If you see me writing I'm usually
talking about my second-rate(as I call them) characters instead of the main ones. Then I usually twirl pencil in my
hair. It's quite funny to see me writing at home and how
I do it..lol
And I've finally decided to use a female character who is really, really cute. Haven't a name yet.
I sort of made her like Hibiki, from Hibiki's Magic.(oh god!
that little thing is the cutest little girl I've ever seen, and
the next cutest is her homunculi Shi-chan, got to love
Shi-chan. lol).
And hm, alot of some of my minor characters look like Hibiki's master. Who is then turned into a gusk and can't
return to his body. Heheh..
But I do like making characters a bit like Ahito-kun, hee hee.
Oh, look! I'm comparing my sis's manga to my own stories.
Why must I do this?

(My note: For context, they are in Cremona for a few weeks. Seiji got a phone call from his dad last night - his grandpa had a heart attack and went into hospital, and the two of the are flying home early to see him. The prognosis is not good.)




Something suddenly occurred to Shizuku, something both hopelessly trivial and yet at the same time it was, at this moment, the most important thing in the world. She reached into the taxi, unzipped her pink bag and retrieved her purse. She turned to the driver,

“Tassista, Può aspettare quindici minuti per favore?”
“Si, si non c'è problema.”

Seiji watched her,

“What are you doing?”
“Seiji, come with me. It’s not far.”

She took his hand and led him at a fast walk up the alley,

“Where are we going? There’s no time. The taxi.”
“The flight isn’t ‘til this evening. We’ve all day. This won’t take ten minutes, and it’s important.”
“What? Now?”
“Yes, now.”

She led him by the hand from the alley, across a main road, down another street and then cutting through small alleys that were now so familiar that she nodded her good mornings to the lady who swept her steps, she turned up a sloping street of antique shops,

“There’s no time for this.”
“Ssshh, for this we make time.”

They passed Anna-Marie’s shop, Seiji thought they might go in but although it was open, Shizuku ignored it and went on, walking faster now. At the top of the hill was the piazza. And the fountain. She led him up to it and stopped. For a few moments they stood, hand in hand, saying nothing. Seiji watched the water gush and gurgle down over the unicorn’s head and wash across the fat stone cherubs’ little round backs. Despite the tens or hundreds of years the water must have flowed here he could see the freshness with which the little figures were carved, their cute baby faces, at the same time both young in form and ancient in expression. They didn’t smile but were so serious, so sad. He knew it was an artistic convention to make the faces serious and the stone masons probably hadn’t intended an emotion here but suddenly he felt it. He could feel the stonemason’s personality, his intent, his spirit, his heart. Seiji connected at once with what the artisan had thought when he carved those faces, he may well have understood that what he was doing would survive long after his time and would be looked upon by people hundreds of years in the future. Something powerful came over Seiji as he stood, holding Shizuku's hand and looking at the exquisite stonework of the cherubs’ bodies. Something about his purpose touched him and he felt a link to his grandpa, a man who had devoted his life to repairing things he considered of value, things of quality, things that would bring pleasure to people many, many years in the future. In a way the violin making class in grandpa's workshop was the same thing - the old man was carving cherubs. His teaching would be passed to his young pupils and even if just one of the class went on to make just one violin that would be played a hundred, two hundred years from now, then his effort would have been worthwhile. Seiji imagined a concert hall two hundred years after his own death with one of his violins being played and five thousand people transported to a make believe world by the sound. To give that gift to people not yet born, now that was something worth doing. His thoughts turned again to his worries, to the dream that troubled him night after night. The violin making thing was a problem, it had to be resolved one way or the other. He really needed to talk about this. Talk to her, he had to use her as a sounding board. But not right now, this wasn't the time.

"I don't suppose you have any idea how old this fountain is do you?" he asked,
She turned her head and looked at him, "Yes, as it happens I do. I was here the other day looking at it and thought how beautiful it was. So I went to the library and looked up some local history."
"And?"
"Well, this piazza has been here for hundreds of years but it seems the fountain isn't as old as the piazza. According to a local history book it was built in 1667."
"This fountain is over 300 years old?"
"Well, maybe not this one exactly. The figurines in it were last replaced in 1716."
"Aranyi," Seiji spoke the word softly, as though it were a prayer.
"What did you say?"
"Aranyi. It's the namesake of the oldest known Stradivarius in existence. It was made in 1667. He was only twenty-three. The same year someone built this fountain. And 1716 was when he was at the height of his skill, Stradivari produced his finest work here, in this city in the early 1700s. Heh," he chuckled, "for all we know he may even have stood here and listened to this water."
"His violins have names? I never knew that."
"Oh, not when they were made. They are modern names, mostly. Well, modern in that they were given in the last hundred years or so. Usually an instrument is named after an owner or a famous violinist who performed on it. Oistrakh, Cipriani, Arma Senkrah, Auer, Cabriac, Castelbarco, Boissier,"

the names rolled off his tongue like an ancient language, beautiful names, beautiful sounds. The Japanese in him meant some of the pronunciation was broken; he had real trouble annunciating some of the sounds and many of the names were mangled and would have sounded funny to an Italian listener, but in his heart the names weren't mangled and that was what counted. Listening to him say the names Shizuku felt almost as though he were playing a violin itself.

"You know all the names?" she was amazed
"No. Not all of them, but most. And the dates he made them. There are fewer than 700 known Strads in existence now. There were more at the beginning of the century but some were lost in World War One and World War Two. It makes me so angry, war is so ugly and stupid – the exact opposite of a Strad. Hm…well… I’m off again, rambling,” he smiled, “Many violin makers and scholars know the names, its part of getting under the skin of the subject."
"That's amazing," she spoke in a hushed tone, she was genuinely awed by his commitment to the subject.

A few moments went by, she could feel the taxi waiting. They had to go - the tide was pulling them - but she didn't want to go.

"Are you afraid?"
"Of grandpa dying?"
"Mm."
"Yes, of course. He's everything to me. I lean on him so hard."
"Well, I understand that. But. Hm, this is hard to say without me sounding rude and insensitive."
"I'm listening."
"How can I say this? Seiji - he won't always be there. You know? If the worst happens you need to move on, you can't be dragged down."
"I know, but you're not me. You don't know what grandpa means to me. Look, there's things I need to tell you but no time for them now. We can talk on the plane I hope."
"Seiji, what I'm saying is... well, I'm here. If grandpa isn't there one day, please use me instead. I'm not very good at encouraging and supporting and I'll probably cry too much but I'll try my best," she looked at him shyly, "As it's you,"
He looked at her, "I understand what you're saying. Thank you. You're very kind. Shizuku, I appreciate you in more ways than you know."
"You say he's everything to you. Well... I want that job."

She squeezed his hand, he squeezed back.

"That's my special squeeze," she said, "I don't do it for just anyone."
"You did one the other night, on the way back from the Museo Stradivariano. I remember."
"We need to go."
"I know."
"But before we do..."

she let go of his hand and opened her purse, she gave him a coin, and took one out for herself.

"And this is for...?"
"Make a wish,"

she closed her eyes and threw her coin into the fountain. It plopped into the water and sank wobbling down to the bottom where it lay among others thrown in by people before her. Seiji closed his eyes. He rubbed his fingers across the coin. She touched this, it’s too precious to throw away. It was a silly thought. There were so many things to wish for right now, but one thing surfaced above all the others. He wanted to wish for grandpa but there was another thing not involving grandpa and he knew grandpa would understand. It was a good thing to wish for, it was right. He threw his coin. He kept his eyes shut and heard it plop into the water. When he opened them his coin had already come to rest and he could no longer tell which one it was.

"What did you wish for?"
He looked at her again, "You know I'm not supposed to tell. It breaks the wish."
"I was just curious," she smiled,
"When it comes true, I'll tell you," he smiled back,
"When? Or if?"
"When."

She reached for his hand again and they turned to go.

__________________
Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)

Post last edited by Saddletank on 01.27.2007, 04:45 PM.

I like that. A lot. I forgive you for the muckiness now lol

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Yeah, some days it really works well. I feel like some days I'm in touch with the characters Miyazaki and Kondou intended and sort of honour their original intent. That is part of a chapter from my 'pure cute' story. Try reading it, you might be pleasantly suprised.

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Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)

Yeah, I might read that. Thanks.

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Sorry about the double-post, but it's to post some of the first chapter of my story 'A Light In Darkness'.

(I won't post the very beginning, because it's not entirely necessary, and I don't want it to be a really long post)

Later, Sam and his mother and father sat round the little dinner table, eating spaghetti bolognaise in silence. Sam was eating quite quickly, because he wanted to avoid the inevitable conversation about school.
He was not quick enough, however, as his father asked:
‘So then, Sam, how was school?’
‘Fine.’
‘Is that all? Just fine?’
‘Nothing too special,’ Sam murmured. ‘I’ve had better days.’
‘Did you have Biology today?’ his father inquired, worried about Sam’s careless attitude towards school.
‘Yeah.’
‘How was it?’
‘It was alright.’
Sam’s father nodded and continued to eat his meal, understanding that the conversation was over. Both of Sam’s parents were still thinking hard about the time the Biology teacher had told them about Sam’s terrible record, but they kept their silence.
Sam soon finished his spaghetti and stood up. His mother looked up at him, not saying anything, but with a look that showed that she wanted him to speak first. He ignored the look, and walked out of the room and up the staircase without a word of thanks for the meal.
‘I’m worried about him, John,’ Sam’s mother said quietly after he had ascended the stairs.
‘So am I,’ her husband replied. ‘So am I.’

As Sam lay in bed that night, trying to fall asleep, he was overwhelmingly depressed. This feeling surfaced now and again: he would suddenly feel a huge pang of loneliness without any warning whatsoever, and be unable to get rid of it.
The sorrow would take him over when he least expected it, and he would feel desperately lost. He would find himself wishing that he had some true friends that actually cared about him, and things would come into his head that he would never tell anybody about, or even think about, if he lived to be one hundred years old.
This time, he was trying to figure out how he could become popular. He reasoned that if more people were friends with him, then maybe he could get Violet or some other girl to like him. If he could do that, he would end this horrific sadness that he kept experiencing.
The problem was that he had no idea how to gain popularity. It seemed to Sam that most of the “cool” people at his school were popular for no apparent reason, without having to put in any effort at all. Part of him wished that it could really be so simple, but another part taunted and jeered him, forcing himself to believe that it was impossible. The second part won the argument after a few minutes, and he instantly became angry with himself for being so weak.
He began to think that his only chance of getting anybody to like him was if they were the only two people in the whole world. Even then, he was still rather sceptical.
Many similarly forlorn thoughts chased each other up and down, round and round, inside his head, until he silenced them by saying, out loud:
‘Shut up. It doesn’t matter right now. Just stop thinking about it and try to get some sleep.’
And though he tried so very hard to force himself not to keep mulling over such depressing thoughts, a solitary tear dropped onto his pillow at least once before he finally drifted off.

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That works well, I like the 'in your head' conversations, everybody has them but they are not easy to write down without seeming contrived. That one doesn't.

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Isakaya High School Roleplaying Info

"An old man like me stands no chance fighting against a high school girl in her underwear" - Oshino Meme, Nekomonogatari (Kuro)

Hm..hm..hm..I like talking in my head!
*y'know that fifth episode of sugar sugar rune?
Well Imagine the part when Chocolat's home room
teach askes her a question, and Chocolat is like,
"I don't know!", then the teach bangs her head on the
table. That's what I'm imagining right now.*

lol, I think that you are probably the only one here that has seen that episode...