Young Writers discussion
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Make fun of my old writing.
message 601:
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Dana
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Dec 09, 2013 01:28AM
There we go *smiles*
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Brigid *Flying Kick-a-pow!* wrote: "Dana ~tears in my eyes but not down my face~ wrote: "BRIGID I WANNA READ MORE OF THE HAPPY RAISINi just like the title of the collection. it sounds so poetic or something. and really reminds me o..."
Yay!
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Sam~~ we cannot see the moon, and yet the waves still rise~~
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Dana ~tears in my eyes but not down my face~ wrote: "Sam~ on sleepless roads the sleepless go~ wrote: "Dana ~tears in my eyes but not down my face~ wrote: "Not fiction. Whatever. This was from when in first grade we had to write these 'journals' sayi...":(
*Smiles more, then frowns, then smiles again*
message 607:
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
(last edited Dec 09, 2013 11:06AM)
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Chapter 23
Want to Know the Happy Raisin’s Biggest Secret?
Did you know that the Happy Raisin has a HUGE secret? Really huge. Like, bigger than you could ever possibly imagine. Bigger than any of the secrets you’ve ever heard in your life. Bigger than any secrets you’ve ever kept. So big, it could fill up like the entire UNIVERSE!!!! That’s pretty big. I mean, even his mother doesn’t know this secret. The Happy Raisin has never told anyone his biggest secret!!! It’s ABSOLUTELY GIGANTIC!!! HUMUNGOUS!!! ENORMOUS!!! ANY WORD THAT YOU CAN THINK OF THAT MEANS REALLY REALLY ABNORMALLY BIG!!!
Okay, so do you want to be the first person (besides the famous raisin himself) to know the huge secret?
Do ya? Huh? Do ya?
Are you sure you want to know? You might be shocked. You might never look at the Happy Raisin the same way ever again!!! You might not even be able to finish reading this book you’ll be so shocked, so horrified, so surprised. You might walk around for the rest of your life with your eyes as big as dinner plates and your mouth hanging open with drool dripping out, and the only thing you’ll be able to say is “Duh . . .”
So, you really want to know? Tell me how badly! So badly that you’d pay a million bucks to hear what it is? So desperate to know that you’d stick a burning pitchfork up your . . . well, you know . . . to find out? Are you dying to know what it is? I bet you are! Would you tell all of your biggest secrets to the Happy Raisin to find out HIS BIG SECRET???
I bet you’re getting really annoyed right now. Am I right? Huh? Are ya? Are ya? Huh? I bet you are! I bet you have flames shooting out your eyeballs and smoke coming out of your ears, and your clutching this book so hard that the pages are crumpling, and your friends are saying to you, “Like, dude, what the heck is wrong with you?”
And you’ll scream: “I WANT TO KNOW THE RAISIN’S SECRET!!!”
And suddenly you’ll find yourself alone with no friends. Aww, too bad!
Okay. I’ve delayed long enough. So now, are you ready to hear the secret? Okay, here goes:
I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS! HE NEVER TOLD ANYONE, REMEMBER YOU IDIOT??? YOU REALLY THOUGHT THAT I KNEW WHAT IT WAS? WELL, YOU’RE STUPID!!! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!!!!!!!!
message 608:
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Sam~~ we cannot see the moon, and yet the waves still rise~~
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Brigid *Flying Kick-a-pow!* wrote: "More from the masterpiece that is The Happy Raisin:Chapter 23
Want to Know the Happy Raisin’s Biggest Secret?
Did you know that the Happy Raisin has a HUGE secret? Really huge. Like, bigger tha..."
HAHAHAHAHA that's seriously priceless.
also, the whole pitchfork thing is my favorite thing on earth right now. :D
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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Brigid *Flying Kick-a-pow!* wrote: "More from the masterpiece that is The Happy Raisin:Chapter 23
Want to Know the Happy Raisin’s Biggest Secret?
Did you know that the Happy Raisin has a HUGE secret? Really huge. Like, bigger tha..."
Better than Shakespeare
Brigid *Flying Kick-a-pow!* wrote: "More from the masterpiece that is The Happy Raisin:Chapter 23
Want to Know the Happy Raisin’s Biggest Secret?
Did you know that the Happy Raisin has a HUGE secret? Really huge. Like, bigger tha..."
LOL, that is really funny!!
HAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA i knew your twelve-year-old self wouldn't disappoint me :P
message 613:
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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I'M SO EXCITED BECAUSE MY MOM FOUND ONE OF MY FIRST GRADE JOURNALS AND I FINALLY FOUND THE STORY I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR FOR YEARSI'll leave in the mistakes to enhance the story.
---
Once there were some books all of them were clen [clean] but one. It was dirty. It had mud spot's on it. And the cover was dusty. And the cleningnis [cleanliest] one said Hey! You should take a bath! Or you will get everything dirty. After he said that haf [half] of the 90% clen books laughed. And then one of the 80% clen books went were [where] the 0% book was. She said don't cry. I'll help you. I'll be your best friend. And the dirty book looked up. She tarted to smile. So they played all day. Soon the next day they played all day again. But they ran into that mean boy again. And then he said: Hey! Watch it! You're going to get me dirty. [The dirty book says] I'm sorry. Thats not unuth [????]. Then what do you want? [The clean book says] Will [Well] I want you to say I'm the best. [The dirty book says] I'll never say that to you. [The clean book says] Will [Well] I'll just beat you up. [The dirty book says] Then tomorrow lets have a fight. [The clean book says] Will [Well} I'll win. [The clean book says] NO!. I'll win. And then the next day they started to fight. That mean boy started to kick and puch [punch]. But they were just warming up. And then they started to fight. And the drity [dirty] book pushed him and then he fell in a mud puddle and then he was 0% clen. And then the onwer [owner] came and pulled it out and then she was 100% clen. And then everybody was her friend. The end
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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(Also - Holden please do a dramatic reading of this.)
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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--------
“Are you all right?” a voice grunted, startling her. A firm hand gripped her arm, pulling her to her feet.
Julia murmured a thank you, and then looked up into the face of the person that had helped her up. She forced back a scream.
It was Firetongue.
She stared at him with horror, speechless. Her heart pounded. Then a flash caught her eyes. Her gaze traveled to it--it was hanging from his leather belt. Her mind suddenly felt weak. It was a knife.
Her stomach churned. Helplessly, she bent over, vomiting. It poured all over Firetongue’s feet, but ˇhe did not make a move or sound.
Julia struggled to breathe between the bursts of brown slime that came out of her mouth.
It was a long time before she stopped, her stomach completely empty. She gasped in air, trying to catch her breath, staring in horror at Firetongue’s feet, covered in vomit. He had not moved since she had started.
She glanced at the knife again. She remembered how horrible it had been, when Larkra had leapt out of Firetongue’s cabin, into her arms, her eyes wide, her face covered in blood. Her mind spun.
“Are you quite finished?” Firetongue asked, a hint of disgust in his voice.
Julia groaned, and sank to her knees, shivering. She felt like a small creature, sitting at the feet of a god--a god that had the strength and power to kill her.
A few silent minutes passed. then, Julia looked up, and gasped.
Firetongue gripped the knife in his hand. He looked down at Julia with glittering eyes. He looked like a hawk, staring at its helpless prey. He raised the knife.
Julia scrambled to her feet, and ran. She heard his feet pounding after her. She could almost feel that knife, digging into her back. She could almost feel the horrible pain. She suddenly wondered what it felt like to die.
Suddenly, she found herself on the edge of a steep cliff. It dropped many feel below, and at the bottom, there were rocks. And beyond that, the dark ocean roared, beating at the rocky shore with huge waves.
Julia had nowhere to turn. She spun around. It was foggy. She couldn’t see Firetongue. Tears streamed down her face--she wept with fear. The wind howled.
Then, a shadow was creeping toward her, out of the fog, with a knife flashing in its hand--Firetongue.
Julia’s heart pounded. I’m going to die . . . I’m going to die . . . she thought over and over.
He was so close. Julia’s skin prickled and crawled. This was the end, she thought. She would never find her father. She would never get home. She could never help Larkra get home. What if Firetongue killed Larkra, too?
Firetongue leapt at her.
Suddenly, they were rolling on the ground. Firetongue’s knife was shooting towards Julia’s throat. She grabbed his wrist. The blade ran down her arm. She screamed in pain. Firetongue raised his arm for another strike. This time, as the blade rushed toward her, Julia grabbed Firetongue’s hand. He dropped the knife. Julia snatched it up.
Firetongue got to his feet, and Julia did the same. She advanced toward him. A bit fearful, he began to back away. The cliff was right behind him. Julia jumped toward him. She slashed at his stomach. Firetongue cried out in pain. He took a step backward.
Julia’s heart lurched, as he fell off the cliff. She watched him fall. Then, he landed on the rocks, and didn’t move. Waves washed over his still and bloody body.
Julia backed away from the cliff. She had killed him. She had killed Firetongue.
Brigid *Flying Kick-a-pow!* wrote: "OH MY GOSH EMILYYYY I just laughed so hard. XD (Also - Holden please do a dramatic reading of this.)"
Holden needs to be a professional dramatic reader person omg
Brigid *Flying Kick-a-pow!* wrote: "I just remembered this crazy story I wrote when I was 11, and I don't think I've ever posted any of it here ... It was about this girl whose dad got transported to another world by a magic elevator..."THE VOMITING PART OMG
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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message 621:
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Sam~~ we cannot see the moon, and yet the waves still rise~~
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Oh do brown slime that's cool.
It was just so random and then... "brown slime."
Emily-- I believe "unuth" = "enough". Anyways, this was hilarious!
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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Okay so there's this other story I was writing when I was 11 that I'm pretty sure I've never posted about here. It was about this girl whose parents get divorced and her dealing with that, yada yada. Then a lot of it was focused on all this drama at her school with this mean girl. And then for no reason there was this weird subplot about how her stuffed pig started talking to her and they had some kind of psychic connection ... Yeah, I'm not sure where I was going with this story. Anyway, I thought I'd post something from it because it's just so amusingly dramatic.
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I didn’t go to recess that day for fear of Haley. I hid in the bathroom and cried my eyes out. I brought a pencil and wrote horrible things about Haley all over the insides of the stalls. I wrote some horrible words that I had been told strictly never to say, never to even think. I sobbed as I wrote, and when I finished there was no tip to my pencil at all. Then, with a frown on my face, I bravely signed my name--but that was a mistake.
Shortly after recess Haley burst into the classroom, floods of tears pouring from her eyes. She went straight to the teacher.
“Whatever is the matter, Haley?” the teacher asked, kneeling down.
“I--I went to the bathroom, and--” She pointed at me. “May--May--that horrible little--”
“Now Haley, we don’t insult each other in school.”
“But May insulted me! She wrote on the stalls!” Haley whined. The teacher frowned at me, and standing up she said, “Let’s go have a look.” I gulped.
The teacher, with my wrist held firmly in her bony hand, led us down the hall. Haley grinned at me. I frowned.
I felt dread pour into me as the door to the bathroom was opened. The teacher dragged us in. She opened the stall that Haley pointed out. Reading the words she began shaking her head and clicking her tongue. “For shame, May. This is disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.”
Haley grinned at me again. “You’re doomed,” she mouthed.
“You’re a--” I began, but I stopped, for I knew she would tell on me if I said it.
“May, clean this up right now, and afterwards, go straight to the principal’s office.”
Haley was grinning even more now. I couldn’t control my anger any longer. I slapped Haley, hard, right in the face. “I hate you!” I screamed.
Emily wrote: "YOU FIGURED IT OUT THANK YOU"No problem :)
message 628:
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Sam~~ we cannot see the moon, and yet the waves still rise~~
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Yeah, signing her name probably wasn't the smartest thing she could've done. BUT WAIT I WANNA SEE THE PART ABOUT THE PIG.
OH WOW THAT SOUNDS COOL PSYCHIC PIG YAY
message 630:
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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BUT WAIT I WANNA SEE THE PART ABOUT THE PIG."
Haha sure, here's one of the parts with the talking stuffed pig (whose name is Percy):
My eyes snapped open. Had it been a dream? Or had it been real? Or had it just been my imagination? I looked at Percy. His button eyes looked sleepy and confused.
“What happened?” I asked him. I didn’t expect him to answer. But he did. He didn’t speak out loud, but I heard him in my head.
“Ask the thing that saved you.”
“What?” I whispered, my eyes getting wider.
“You heard me,” he replied.
I looked around the room. It had to be a dream. It just had to be. I gulped, and said in a shaky voice, “Who are you?”
“That I cannot tell you,” a voice said to me quietly.
“What are you?”
“I do not know. I think I am a sort of ghost or fairy, or god, or human, or all of those things.”
“Well--uh--” I gulped. I couldn’t speak because I was so frightened. Wait--if this voice could just speak into my mind, maybe I could speak into its. So I thought my next question.
“What just happened?”
“You are not ready to know.”
“Why not?” I thought, pouting.
“Because.”
“But--”
“I cannot tell you what I cannot tell you.”
There was a long silence, as I waited for it to say more, but it didn’t.
“Hello?” I whispered, “Are you still there?”
The voice didn’t reply. It was gone.
message 631:
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Sam~~ we cannot see the moon, and yet the waves still rise~~
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Well, if that's not creepy, I don't know what is. XD
“Hello?” I whispered, “Are you still there?”*Shiver.*
message 633:
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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That pig sounds terrifying I'm laughing
Brigid *Flying Kick-a-pow!* wrote: "Haha yeah ... I was a strange child. O_o"I still enjoyed reading it though. ^w^
My first attempt at creating a dramatic scene, where the main character finds out that her hometown has been killed.(Also, Rose is a talking rabbit. ...Don't really know what I was thinking. Oh well.)
______________________________________________________
As soon as I reached Washington, I ran down the streets down the street. Shopkeepers waved to me as I shoved past groups of people. “Hey Cristina!” one called out, waving. “Be careful if you’re heading to the village on the hill over there. There’s been some kind of gas leak or something. The officials are saying that it’s too dangerous to investigate.” I couldn’t bring myself to respond, terror paralyzing my vocal cords; all I could manage was keeping my legs pumping underneath me.
My stomach clenched as I finally reached the top of the hill. What had once been a beautiful village was now a vast ghost town, reeking of death and destruction. I felt numb now, as I moved my gaze from side to side. "Rosie, time to wake up." I called softly as I tried to disguise the fear in my voice with calm acceptance. “Up and at them girl. Come on princess. I know you’re here somewhere.” Suddenly I heard a rustle of movement and whipped around with a gasp.
"Mistress Hielo." Rose welcomed, with a curt nod of her head. Her tone was professional but her voice was warm and her eyes shined. This was one of the reasons that she was special. While I had the power of Ice; she had the power of speech. Rose could communicate with any creature no matter what language they spoke or even if they couldn’t speak at all. "It's wonderful to have you finally back!"
I let out a bark of forced laughter. “Don’t scare me like that Rose! I thought you were a ghost or something! But anyways, it’s good to be back. Not like anyone's left to be glad about my return." I meant to whisper this last part, but Rose heard me anyway. Rose started sputtering something, but I wasn’t listening. Tears threatened to slip through my eyelids, which were squeezed tightly together. I began to blink rapidly, trying to calm down, though it wasn't easy. This was my hometown! The place where I lived for the first six years of my life! For a slight moment I became relieved, as I remembered that my own parents were about a mile away, safe from harm for now.
Finally, I tuned into what Rose was trying to tell me. "She... You... a clone... person... um...!" Rose was insisting, waving her arms frantically and not making any sense at all.
"A... A clone...?” I repeated her words, eyes wide. “Of... me...?” At Rose’s confirmative nod, I instantly knew who it was that has massacred so many innocent lives. I turned away from her, silently giving up the battle of keeping the fiery hot tears inside. They spilled out, rolling down my cheeks. I wiped at my eyes furiously. Why was I acting like this?! It wasn't my fault. It was my clone’s fault! It was the people in the town’s fault! Didn't they know how dangerous clones could be?!
Rose nodded, shocked, and for once at a loss for words. "Mistress Hielo.” she comforted gently. Rose paused, noticing that I was still sobbing. “Cristina.” she tried again. I looked up and sniffed. "Calm down. Everything will be fine. We will catch her before she does more harm."
I took a deep breath. Rose was right. There was no point in crying now; I had to stop my clone. It was my duty to stop her. She couldn't harm any more innocents! I wouldn't allow it. I glanced back at Rose again. "You'll help me, right? Por favor? Please?" After the accident of six years ago, whenever I was over-emotional my Spanish accent crept back into my voice even though I had been speaking fluent English for a long time. It kind of got annoying some of the time since nobody could really understand me unless I translated, but I had finally gotten used to it.
Rose smiled, finally assured that I was completely calmed down; at least enough to wait until we stopped my clone before I broke down again. "Yes, I'll help you. I will not rest until she is brought to justice!" She then bent her right ear, clutched her paws to her tiny chest, and wiggled her fluffy cotton ball of a tail. A salute that meant, "Bunny Scout Honor!"
message 637:
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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Yeah, I really don't know what I was thinking. But then again, I was pretty little when I wrote this. XD
Roxanne wrote: "Yeah, I really don't know what I was thinking. But then again, I was pretty little when I wrote this. XD"How little were you? Because it's still pretty well-written.
I wrote this two or three years ago... It is pretty badly written and the main character is kind of stupid...(I wrote it on a typewriter, so there are a lot of typos, I'll leave them in.)
Smoke came from the window. I watched as the silhouettes of the many people walked by. My family was dead, when I got home from the girlly mall, my three sisters, my mother, and my cruel aunt.
My name is Samson Peters and this is my life.
My sister, Lily Peters. She was bossy and short,
I was short for my age, I'm fourteen and she was sixteen,
And she was a very borin person unlike me...
I am a zombie in the year 3091, and I don't eat brains I most
people think zombies always eat brains.but we don't really eat brains.
And I am a zombie who is half alive half dead.
My mom called me her little not son so I think she's like my step mom or something. and my sisters always said they didn't have a brother, so I don't think any of the were really my family.
My 'mom' never would let me go down to the basement, so when they died I went down there and when I got to the basement there was something under a bug dirty blaket, I pulled the blacket off dirt and dust everywhere...under where the blacket was, was some kind of weird thing with buttons saying numbers, and there were three green ones. They said 'Worlds: EARTH' and 'World: Gumdrop' and the last one 'World: Peter' I wondered what they were, was his some kind of Teleporter? But why was it in our basement? And why didn't the people who killed my 'family' take it? This was just weird And that wasn't the strangest hung that was going to happen today.
I went to get something to eat before going outside to find out what was going on in the outside world, no one would let me go outside because they said there was too much danger and they needed me to go under ground to go to those lame malls they wanted me to go, because they needed their clothes and makeup. But when I came back they were dead, so YAY! I don't have to all so that stupid stuff! So I'm happy.
want to see a really horrible poem? (not sure y'all are ready for the horribleness.) please be willing to make fun of this as much as possible :P
THE POEM...
She's turned into the person
that she didn't want to be
the one with bandaged arms
for everyone to see
the one who laughs and talks
--but to the plants, the wall
Seeing flashes swirls and twirls
--but no drugs she's done at all
The one with eyes wide open
she sits awake at night
wants to hide from everything
--consumed with horror, fright
The one locked in asylum
with no belts, no sharps to find
with doctors, nurses, and the aides
all questioning her mind
She thinks everyone's out to get her
--convinced they all want her dead
and the screaming torment of voices
she can't pry out of her head
She is now the person
that she didn't want to be
the one everyone labels as
undoubtedly crazy
message 644:
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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message 645:
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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See the angels crying,
see the bullets flying,
see the bloodstained grass on which
a thousand dead bodies are lying.
See the angels weep.
The children cannot sleep,
because they know their world’s not safe.
Their fears are dark and deep.
See the angels wail,
see the people fail
to keep themselves and others alive,
see their skin turn pale.
See the angels crying.
See the angels crying.
See them cry
and weep
and wail
because our world is dying.
Haha beautiful.
And okay, this next thing I actually kind of like. I have no recollection of writing it but it's in a document of random stuff I wrote when I was in third grade. It's not very well-written of course but there's something surprisingly philosophical about it ... ? Haha I don't know, I just think it's really cute.
One night I was taking a walk. I saw a pair of silver wings glitter in the moonlight. I didn’t see what was attached to them. Whatever it was, it was magical. I often wonder what lucky creature was gifted with such wings. So in my dreams I put the silver wings on myself, and traveled all over the world.
I don't like poetry but I don't see what's wrong with the pieces you all posted...?Probably my English. Also, this bit:
Brigid *Flying Kick-a-pow!* wrote: "Whatever it was, it was magical."
xD?
message 647:
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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You were nine when you wrote that? I thought you'd have been like 13 or such e-e
message 649:
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Brigid ✩, No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader.
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Brigid *Flying Kick-a-pow!* wrote: "Speaking of which! I've been meaning to look for some of my horrible middle school poetry and I finally found some of it. Hooray! And during my search I also came across some weird snippets of thin..."OH MAN I HAVE TO FIND MY POETRY FROM SECOND AND SEVENTH GRADE NOW. I'll see if I can find it among my hundreds of papers. I've only kept like every piece of paper I've gotten since sixth grade (not exaggerating, my mom gets mad at me for it). XP
