A2 is working on a novel!
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21-04-2014, 08:41 AM (This post was last modified: 21-04-2014 09:09 AM by Atothetheist.)
Lightbulb A2 is working on a novel!
So, I was eating my lunch a couple of days ago at school, and a challenge was proposed to me: Steve, can you write a trashy romance novel?

Well... I was intrigued, so I accepted the challenge. Problem is, I need some feedback to see how I am doing. Constructive criticism is WELCOME (and encouraged!), but if you wanna stroke my ego, that's good too! (Just kidding, seriously, be honest.)

I am still working on the first chapter, so I'll show you what I got so far:

I wish I could say that the instant I laid eyes on her, the heavens opened up, and a chorus of angels started singing, but there wasn't anything special. Hell, there wasn't even an intense feeling of electricity coursing through me at the time. But, books and movies always tended to bend the truth when it came to attraction and love. No stereotypical fireworks either. But, I suppose that's how love really works... No instant feelings, but rather a slow, gradual slope into the companionship and attraction that so often is painted as romantic love. Not that I would know personally (Why would I?), I'm just a seventeen year old kid who hasn't gotten a date in what seems like forever. Of course, a thought did occur to me as I casually glanced at her walking past me during the last passing period before lunch. Well, it more or less snaked it's way into my mind as my eyes scanned her figure, and I shifted my head slightly to keep her in my sight.

'Wow, I'd tap that.'

With a 'humph', I shook my head at how totally predictable I was, appraising her body before even getting to know her, but I suspected that many of my peers had done so already. As soon as she disappeared from my view, she no longer was at the forefront of my mind. My hands gripped my books steadily as I moved through the halls, slipping through tiny gaps between two bodies when they were available. When I got to my locker, I found that, someone was obstructing me from opening it. The grip on my books tightened as brows furrowed in annoyance.

Not this shit again.

Every-goddamn-day, it seems, there was somebody at my locker, whether it be some dumb bitch who didn't have the decency to at least not be in the way, or my locker neighbor's boyfriend. I wondered why it must be so goddamn convenient to hang around in front of my locker, chatting away about useless things. And it's apparently happening again today. My shoulders slumped and I quickly thought about laying into the stupid guy who is in front of me, but seeing his superior muscle mass made me think twice.

"Um, excuse me," I mumbled.

No response.

'Of course...' I thought, irritated about having to think of another way to make my presence known.

"Can you please move out of my way?" I asked, my voice raised a little as I stepped forward, finally getting him to turn to me. He shot a look of annoyance at me, but shuffled a little left to accommodate my wiry frame, allowing me to squeeze in and open my locker. As soon as the door opened, papers spilled out onto the floor and I rolled my eyes, cursing my disorganization. As I bent down to pick of the papers, my eyes glanced at the clock.

'Shit.'

I quickly tore my eyes away from the clock, and stuffed the remainder of papers inside my locker. I only had two minutes left to get to class. I quickly gathered the books I need for English and slammed my locker door closed forcefully. My legs broke into a run as I flew down the halls, squeezing through people and dodging others, in an attempt to get there on time. As shameful as it was to admit, I am not exactly the best runner. In fact, I am pretty sure a turtle could catch me eventually, but I at least had to make a break for it. My eyes narrowed in on the door, and I willed my legs to go faster.

RIIINNNNNNG!

Breathing a sigh of relief, I just made it. After collapsing into my assigned seat, I looked around for my best friend, Neil. My eyes scanned the room for his familiar brown hair and athletic stature, but my brown eyes focused on something more... Distracting.

She was facing toward the front blackboard of the class, completely oblivious of my eyes glued to her. Wow, she was beautiful. I mean, it wasn't like her dirty (perfect) blonde hair, attractive face and body came as a complete surprise. After all, I did see her pass me on the way to my locker, but now that I got a better view of her, I was at a loss for words as to how attractive she was.

"Hey, Art," A familiar voice said, it surprised me and I jumped a little, "What's up?"

"Seriously, Neil?" I questioned, turning my gaze towards him, "How many times have I told you to stop calling me Art?"

"As many times as there are digits in pi," He responded, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Meaning that you either don't know, or you don't plan to stop."

"Exactly." He replied, sitting down in his chair to the right of me.

"You know," I began, a smile on my face as I looked at my friend, "Sometimes I wonder why we are even friends."

A laugh escaped from Neil as he turned to me, "You know exactly why, Art."

It was true, I did know. Neil and I had been best friends ever since the sixth grade. I had transferred schools, and was dreading the transition from one social climate to another one, but it was inevitable. Before I had entered into that school, I wondered if there was anyone like me. I wondered if there was anyone who was worthy of my friendship, and Neil proved himself worthy the moment he made three references to my favorite book series and five correct answers. That's when I knew that Neil was different, he wasn't stupid. Far from it, in fact. Neil was incredibly smart, and incredibly driven. He was athletic, studious, he never cheated, and he never allowed himself to be any less than he could be.

Looking back at it now, it was strange, us being friends. I wasn't athletic, I didn't study, and I loathed the idea of having to do any physical activity besides breathing, walking and the occasional ping pong game. Still, we bonded over our shared intelligence, and how well we could use it. Sometimes we would face against each other in little games, just to see who was better.

We were almost always even.

"Sorry I'm late," I was uprooted from my thoughts and planted back in the present as my teacher walked in, "Please turn to page 182 in your grammar workbooks."

My hands immediately went to the green grammar workbook and I opened it to the assigned page. I scanned it, and immediately groaned inwardly when my eyes landed on the word 'preposition.' This was stupid. I learned this shit years ago, yet here we are again learning the same thing. Wasn't high school supposed to be more advanced?

"If you look at the top of the page, you'll notice...," Slowly, I began to tune my teacher out. My eyes flickered back to the new girl. I watched her as she crossed her perfectly shaped legs as she leaned over to get our her workbook. She was probably from somewhere out of state, maybe Michigan or Iowa. If so, then she might not exactly be familiar with our city, Portage. She might need some "education" about it.


I tore a fresh piece of paper from my notebook. 'New girl?' I wrote as my eyes searched for the teacher. Pretending to bend over to get my vocabulary book, I showed it to Neil, my eyes pointed in the direction of the hottie. Neil nodded slightly. I leaned back and penned 'Name?' as I glanced at the powerpoint my teacher droned on about.

Folding the piece of paper, I bent down and extended my arm to give the paper to Neil...

Only to have it snapped up by the teacher.

Shit.

"And, what is this, Arthur?" Mr. Brady asked, my note in hand. My brown eyes met his blue, and I racked my brain for a suitable excuse, but none came to me. So, I did the next best thing.

"Umm, my grocery list?" I joked, my fingers on my thighs. The other students got silent. Like vultures, they focused their immediate attention on the unfolding scenario. Briefly, I wondered if the silence I was receiving from Mr. Brady was a good sign. The fingers on my thighs loosened a little bit in hope that I might just get away with it.

Wishful thinking was never my strongest suit.

"I see," Mr. Brady replied, "Get up, Mr. Nevets."

The stares followed my every move as I got out of the chair and waited for more instructions. My legs shifted my weight as I bore the stare of my teacher head on. In truth, I knew I shouldn't have joked with him, but I couldn't have come up with an excuse, and there was no way I was letting him get the last words. I had a good idea of what punishment he would have in store, and what he will have me do, but I dare not move. Mr. Brady was already angered, and I did not wish to cause more harm my way.

"Go the front of the class and read it aloud," Mr. Brady ordered, as he handed me the note.

A smile slightly showed on my lips as he said it. I wasn't happy that I had to do it, but I was happy that I was right in predicting what he would have me do. No matter what the situation, I find happiness in being correct.

I took the paper and walked to the front of the room. My eyes scanned the many interested faces, and it landed on the girl's. She showed a passing interest, but her eyes seemed to indicate that she was impatient to get this over with. It's such a shame. If she was actually interested, I might have showed off a bit more, but I guess I'll just have to bite the bullet. I looked down at the folded paper and silently wondered how embarrassing this will be.My fingers opened up the paper, and I sighed. My eyes once more went to the audience and I shared a knowing look with Neil.

"'New Girl?'," I loudly read, getting the rapt attention of girl in question with some of the other students looking in her direction. I paused to look at the teacher before continuing, "'Name?'" Everyone's eyes were still on me, expecting me to continue reading, but after a long silence, they figured out that I was finished. Unfortunately, Mr. Brady was not convinced.

"Hand me the note, Arthur," Mr. Brady commanded sternly. His hand opened, and I placed the paper into it. He looked at the contents, and I swore I saw a flash of disappointment. I've always believed that teachers secretly enjoyed hard-to-control students, their jobs get a little more exciting. However, I was not usually an out of control student. I've done my fair share of witty banter, but I've never purposefully tried to disrupt the learning process for anyone. I guess Mr. Brady wanted a little excitement in his job.

"Please explain the reason behind it."

"Certainly, sir," I replied, turning to the new girl, I continued, "I wanted to know the new girl's name so that I could talk to her and maybe offer her my notes from this unit."

A few of the students snickered at each other as they, in unison, came to the correct conclusion: I was bullshitting. In truth, it wasn't that hard of a leap to take. If anyone knew me, they knew that I never took notes. I simply regarded notes on certain subjects (like the one I am in) to be merely a waste of paper. My notebook could be better used for something like outlining my future novels. Of course, my English teacher, Mr. Brady didn't know me very well.

"And knowing her name couldn't wait until lunch?" Mr. Brady asked as he crumpled up the note in his hands.

"Admittedly, sir, it wasn't my best option, but it was the one I chose."

"Have you chosen to accept the consequences of that option?"

'Is he serious?' I thought as my eyes widened in slight disbelief. He was not going to give me detention for trying to pass a note, was he? I mean, the reason I gave behind it was total bullshit, but he doesn't know that. For all intents and purposes, he should have thought I had tried to do the right thing but went about it the wrong way. A few of my classmates exchanged looks with each other as they knew that some kind of punishment would be levied on me, but Mr. Brady didn't notice. His eyes were fully focused on me.

"Yes, I take full responsibility for my actions."

It was better, in my mind, to have agreed with the punishment. I was in hot water already, and I was not intending to turn the temperature to scalding. There was a time and place for bravery and stubbornness, this was not the time nor the place. My eyes scanned Mr. Brady's face as I tried to decipher what my fate might be. Detention? Writing sentences? Scrapping gum off of the underside of desks?

"Well," Mr. Brady began, "As long as you understand that your actions were not the best. Sit down," I made my way to my seat, "and I don't want any more trouble from you for the remainder of the class."

"Thank you, sir," I said as I sat down. Neil sent me a relieved glance, but I pretended I didn't see it. I had let out a relieved breath and flipped open my notebook to begin outlining my story. However, my mind wasn't interested in now well my novel was going to be planned, but rather in how the blond beauty reacted to the scene that had unfolded.

A great shock must have come to her when she heard that she was the object of the note's contents, but other than that, it was a mystery. Women were mysteries. You expect them to act one way, and they act completely differently. You expect them to act differently, and then they act normally. So, she could have taken my reasoning any direction. She could have been grateful that someone would bother trying to help her, or she could have been creeped out that some lanky nerd wanted to help her out (no doubt to try to get into her pants, which I was).

My money is on the latter, truthfully.

Suddenly, my pants vibrated twice as I had received a text. I furrowed my brows in slight annoyance, but I made no other indications as to what happened. My hand sneaked it's way into my pocket and it gently fished out my phone. My eyes flashed down to the screen as I held it under the desk.

'Andy G:Why dont you talk to me anymore?'

A sigh escaped my lips as I put my phone back, making sure that I was not going to get caught by the teacher again. I didn't have the time to respond to useless things.

-------

Yeah, I know, it sucks... But I think some of that is the point, hence the 'trashy.'

I based the character off of a friend of mine who was particularly reluctant to consent, but I thought his personality would be perfect for the protag (I've injected a bit of myself in there as well).

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Credit goes to UndercoverAtheist.
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21-04-2014, 08:46 AM
RE: A2 is working on a novel!
[Image: 1d99d7f286fec6bac7394be6c44d734a.jpg]



Jk I will come back to this later. Heart

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Swing with me forever, we can count up every flower, we can weather every storm.
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21-04-2014, 08:48 AM
RE: A2 is working on a novel!
(21-04-2014 08:46 AM)LostandInsecure Wrote:  [Image: 1d99d7f286fec6bac7394be6c44d734a.jpg]



Jk I will come back to this later. Heart

I completely understand! It is pretty long. I have only done essentially two scenes, and it's at about 2,400 words.

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21-04-2014, 08:49 AM
RE: A2 is working on a novel!
.....

It's not the worst thing I've read this year.
Thumbsup

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21-04-2014, 08:53 AM
RE: A2 is working on a novel!
(21-04-2014 08:49 AM)Free Thought Wrote:  .....

It's not the worst thing I've read this year.
Thumbsup

Oh come on! That's gotta be the most stereotypically Free Thought answer ever. What did you think?

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21-04-2014, 09:03 AM (This post was last modified: 21-04-2014 09:08 AM by Free Thought.)
RE: A2 is working on a novel!
(21-04-2014 08:53 AM)Atothetheist Wrote:  
(21-04-2014 08:49 AM)Free Thought Wrote:  .....

It's not the worst thing I've read this year.
Thumbsup

Oh come on! That's gotta be the most stereotypically Free Thought answer ever. What did you think?

It's gotten to the point where I have stereotypical answers?
Oh where has my life gone?! Weeping

As for what I thought of it... My first comment is true; oh the stories I've proof read this year...
It's a fairly decent story thus far, but it wont be fit for criticism until it's at least a little further on: it's no fun dissecting a zygote, but embryos on the other hand...

Though I'll give you credit on making a character which is simultaneously relatable and unrelatable, especially for the Ordinary Highschool Student trope you've got going on.

The people closely associated with the namesake of female canines are suffering from a nondescript form of lunacy.
"Anti-environmentalism is like standing in front of a forest and going 'quick kill them they're coming right for us!'" - Jake Farr-Wharton, The Imaginary Friend Show.
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21-04-2014, 09:08 AM
RE: A2 is working on a novel!
(21-04-2014 09:03 AM)Free Thought Wrote:  
(21-04-2014 08:53 AM)Atothetheist Wrote:  Oh come on! That's gotta be the most stereotypically Free Thought answer ever. What did you think?

It's gotten to the point where I have stereotypical answers?
Oh where has my life gone?! Weeping

As for what I thought of it... My first comment is true; oh the stories I've proof read this year...
It's a fairly decent story thus far, but it wont be fit for criticism until it's at least a little further on: it's no fun dissecting a zygote, but embryos on the other hand...

Though I'll give you credit on making a character which is simultaneously relatable and unrelatable.

The fuck does that mean?

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21-04-2014, 09:10 AM
RE: A2 is working on a novel!
Make the character an orphan! And have mean foster parents!

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21-04-2014, 09:11 AM
RE: A2 is working on a novel!
(21-04-2014 09:10 AM)Alex_Leonardo Wrote:  Make the character an orphan! And have mean foster parents!

Dude, he has my past.

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21-04-2014, 09:12 AM
RE: A2 is working on a novel!
One cannot compose a novel by committee.

Go away and write it and then show us the end product.

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