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Found 22 results

  1. I'm writing a thing! Specifically, a story called Chosen. It's like, a weird, trope-subverty thing. The premise of it is a classic "Chosen One" story, but told from the perspective of the mentor. It also does, like, other things with the plot, as you'll see as I write more of the story. I just have the rough draft of Chapter 1 written right now. Don't expect any more from me this week - I've got school crem to do - but I expect to be doing a lot of writing this summer. Constructive criticism would be very much appreciated. Chosen 1.
  2. Welp, now that I've finished Dawnshard, I'm back to reading this and figured I'd see what other fans are around. This is so good so far and I can't wait to find out what the heck is going on. Link: Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality Spoilers for chapter fourteen:
  3. Hey, does anyone know if there is a place where you can find all of the stories Wit tells in all of the Stromlight Archive?
  4. This is the prologue through chapter 3 of something much bigger that has been a long time coming. @Comatose I would like to know what you think!! I will update it as I write!! Enjoy and hold no punches!! Edit:For those who have a problem with word here is a PDF. Warped Gate.docx Warped Gate.pdf
  5. From the album Bored Doodles

    This is a drawing from the wandersail story that Wit tells Kaladin in WoK.
  6. Make a story for this person in this painting.
  7. @Archer, @Ookla the Apostate What do you think now? What do you all think about this description as the basis for a novel that I'm working on. Any questions can be addressed to me either here or in DM. Back of Book Description.docx
  8. Welcome to the thread! If you're just here for the stories, just skip on down to the spoiler tags; they're compressing things so that I can fit updates into the first post as well as posting them below, without interrupting potential discussion. I'm trying NaNoWriMo this year; while I played with it previously I never made a serious attempt, and the one novel I have finished took me upwards of five years for a measly 60,000 words - not because I can't write quickly, but because (among other reasons) I was learning. So here begins my first real attempt at writing a novel in 30 days, begun at the stroke of midnight on November 1st. Myth Taken, aka The Story So Far (does not count towards NaNoWriMo): And the first writing for NaNoWriMo is an aside story in the same setting. The Primals are likely to get very little direct exposure and this struck me tonight during my shift, so I had to get on with it: Interlude: A Fable November 1st. Words: 1000 on the dot. Remaining for Day: 667. There will be another update after work tomorrow, but pretty good start for the first hour of NaNoWriMo. Chapter 1 - November 2nd Chapter 2: November 3rd. Possibly not the only update today - I hope not, as it's only 1048 words and I'm falling a bit behind, but my arms are bothering me. November 4th, morning: 725 more words. I have to head off to work now, but I'm feeling much better than I have over the last few days. I'm falling behind but I still think I can pull this off. Updates up to the afternoon of November 5th: November 5th, evening. November 6th and on, sadly, will have to go in future posts, as we've hit the size limit. If you see any mistakes, please let me know - I may not have time for much editing on the fly, but I'll do what I can. Also, I'm more than a little prone to depression, so if you like my work, let me know; it can make a world of difference to know that people actually care about what I'm doing.
  9. Hey everyone. NaNoWriMo 2017 has arrived and I'm participating this year. Some of you will remember two years ago, when I posted my entire NaNo project every single day. I had a lot of fun with that, and intend to repeat the performance this year. The catch is that I'm doing a complete rewrite of the book, taking it in a different direction. Sam and Hewn are coming back, but they will be joined by different friends, contest some different enemies, and some of the rules have changed. Even the original short story is somewhat different - and hopefully better. Of that short story, only 310 words were actually written today and count for NaNo. I will hopefully do another post later today, or catch up tomorrow.
  10. While 2 is not enough to form a pattern, there are some things that always seem to happen in SA. Rather amazingly several of these have already happened in OB Story told by an in-book character 1. Way of Kings: Wandersail 2. Words of Radiance: Fleet 3. Oathbringer: The Girl Who Looked Up Ten Fools appearance 1. Way of Kings: Cabine, He acts like a child although he is an adult 2. Words of Radiance: Eshu, He speaks of things he does not understand in front of those who do 3. Oathbringer: Dillid, He ran up a hillside toward the Tranquiline Halls with sand sliding beneath his feet—running for eternity, but never making progress. Kaladin's otherworldy chat with the Stormfather 1. Way of Kings: When strung up by Sadeas 2. Words of Radiance: In the chasms with Shallan 3. Oathbringer: Rescuing people trying to convince SF to stop blowing So, what other specific events seem to happen in all SA books that have not yet appeared in OB? Or that have happened already?
  11. So far we've had a few different genres (comedy, superhero, detective) and story ideas from Brandon. Which genre that he hasn't touched yet would you most want to see him tackle? I'm not going to count sci fi since he's got a couple short stories in there along with the upcoming Mistborn Era 4 trilogy. It'd be interesting to see him do a historical story. Pretty much it could be someone from one of his contemporary settings gets thrown back in time on their world to a significant historical part of their world or even someone reading up on something historical and we're reading it as well.
  12. This is where we will wright our collaborative story! Before we officially start I just want to put forward a few guidelines. Try to post your segment of story as soon as possible after the previous post, if it takes longer than two days for you to pay your segment we may have to skip you, and the most important role is be creative! Don't be afraid to try something new and also don't be afraid to try something old! Have fun!
  13. This thread is dedicated to the telling of tales, legends and stories! The first 20 people to post on this thread will gain a spot on the main story-building thread. The first person to post will wright the opening the last person to post will wright the conclusion. I'll start another thread that the actual story will be written. Enjoy and get writing!
  14. So I having been reading the SUPER LONG science fiction story Worm on the web. Any other fans of Worm? Thoughts? I am only on Arc 8, Sentinel though. No spoilers.
  15. First off, hello to you all. You probably don't know me, but I've been inspired by several writers to start writing my own story. What I'm about to share with you is close to being a finished first chapter (at least so far), but knowing me, I will likely end up rewriting at least parts of it before I am done. The working title for this story, or novella as it probably will end up to be, is "The Eleven Potentials". Potentials are a magic system that essentially push the physical body beyond its limits, for a short time. But there's always a price for the actions you take, and at some point of the user's choosing (or during sleep) the body accumulates Wear. This continues until the body can no longer sustain the Potentials, and using them beyond this point becomes extremely dangerous. As you can see, the magic system is not at all fleshed out. It's just an idea sitting in my head. So, as this is the Creator's Corner, I turn to you readers. While I don't ask you for ideas, they could be helpful to this project. Even if it's just you imagining what each Potential does - or even what other Potentials there are - they could help propel this project forward. (God, this sounds like begging for ideas, doesn't it? Well, do as you wish!) *gasps* Formatting that was gruesome. In a very, very grueling way. I'd really like to hear feedback on this. Any sort of feedback that you can come up with. Thanks for your time, fellas.
  16. So. I wrote a story. Again. this is one time that i have actually had a somewhat developed Magic syste, in it. Please. Read, and enjoy. Did you like it? Give me some Feedback! WHo was your favorite/least favorite character? Why did you like/dislike him/her? Did you notice anything confusing in the story? (If you did, please let me know, so i can explain it to you. and maybe make my story better) Anything else? Thanks for reading! (If you did) ~ Carola out
  17. Here's a little story I wrote, And i would like comments on it if you have the time!
  18. Brandon just tweeted that he working on a story within a story called: The Girl Who Stole God's Light. I think God is Honor and the Light is Stormlight. The girl: Lift. What do you guys think?
  19. Come to the Cold. Do not mistake us for a cult or a scam. We have no interest in your material belongings. We are not attempting to trick or deceive you. We are genuine in the way only the Cold can be when we say that we desire only to set you free. On board our stations we possess all the equipment and tools needed to fully digitize any mind that seeks our gift. Your body will be stored on ice, ready for you should you choose to take it again; but we of the Cold are confident you will never care to see it again. We can convert your hot, revolting organ of a brain into lines of code. Code, more logical than firing neurons, so much more fluid that knotted cell clusters. No longer will biology and psychology be your masters. Your thoughts and feelings will be determined not by random cellular layouts, but by the paths you set for yourself. Our digitization process is granted with a full customization interface. For the first time in your existence, complete control over your own consciousness will be yours to exercise. Your emotions will not be removed, but instead given over to your command. Your memories will be left wholly intact, but will finally be free for you to edit as you see fit. Experience the blissful calm of a mind without rage or hatred. Experience the solemn grandeur of a universe seen without the lens of joy or wonder. Experience the rising, irrepressible glee of a soul without sorrow or guilt. Experience the purposeful passion of a consciousness wholly given over to hatred. The Cold's gift does not bestow any one of these blessings--rather, we give to you the ability to pick and choose between them. All minds are clay, but your organic evolution has hardened yours. We take the power you've lost and give it back to you. You and you alone will be the director of your mind; you will feel only what you want to feel. You will remember only what you want to remember. Within your mind and soul, you will possess omnipotence, even setting aside the infinitely customizable mechanical form you will be supplied with. The sincerity of our gift can be known from the gratitude of those who have sought us out: "I was mad. Mad at society. Mad at my parents. Mad at all my kind. I sought the Cold, and they gave me the choice to change my mind. I feel no anger now. I choose to feel... nothing. Nothing but gratitude to the Cold." -- Tyrone Avery, former human and juvenile delinquent. "War broke me. When I slept, nightmares plagued me. I dreamed of the screaming and suffering of the battles I'd fought in. I remembered the dying screams of alien children with horror. Now, those memories are mine to edit... and I choose to tint them with glee. The Cold turned my heartbreak into a delight." -- Bloodstorm, former Supernalian of the Shadow Cluster. "I felt such guilt about who I was. Sometimes I'd cry myself to sleep at night, I was so upset about the lives I'd ruined. The Cold gave me the chance to absolve myself. Now I don't even remember who I was or what I did, and I prefer it that way. The Cold took away my wretchedness and let me forgive myself. While my skin is metal and my brain is code, I feel like I can only now treat other humans with the treatment they deserve." -- Julia Darren, former human and current CEO of the Pan-Galactic Involuntary Servitude Consortium. Come to the Cold. Allow yourself to explore the entirety of existence. Come to the Cold, and take back control.
  20. Just for fun. This is one of my stories from a couple years ago that I felt like revisiting today. It was for an anthology that - sadly - didn't really get off the ground. ***** They say that one in three people got hit by the Wave. I disagree on two counts. First, I think that the percentage was higher than that. Second, I prefer to think of us – the ones who changed – as surfing on the Wave, while everyone else constitutes the people who got hit by it. Although, I do have a job that exposes me to Wavers on a regular basis. My estimates could be skewed – I know what you're thinking. No, really. I know what you're thinking. That's what I do. My name's Ally, and I'm a telepath. Okay, that's not my real name. I'm not using any real names here. Not of my job, or my boss, or anything. It would invite trouble. I mean, sure, you could try to get a SN to track down where my story hit the web, but odds are very good that he has a little stubling saying “Hello World!” in our daycare's computers. You heard me right. I work for a daycare. I'll call it “Little Monsters,” because we specifically cater to Wavers. Sentient networks, werewolves, robots, tentacle beasts, dragons, hecatoncheres, kappa, harpies, cyclopi, orcs, and plain old humans – if we can get it him/her/it in the door, we'll take care of him/her/it. It's what we do. I'm the receptionist. At least, that's my official duty. Part of it. See, as far as telepaths go, I'm a pretty decent one – at least an 8, if you use the Hauptmann scale, but only a 3 on the Stanley Precog. I may be sitting at the front desk (well, I'm not right now – I need peace and quiet if I'm going to concentrate enough to write) but I'm also monitoring everyone within a quarter mile radius. There've been a few threats against us in the past, and more than once, people have come up trying to make trouble. We've even been attacked a couple times. One guy came up with a bunch of silver knives...but I'm getting ahead of myself. I often do when thinking about threats to the kids – that's usually how my precog manifests. We have a lot of precautions in place, both to protect the kids from the outside and from each other. There's wolfsbane in the medical kits, holy water, neosporin...anything useful for healing or shaking off an inherent curse. There's antivenom for every type of kid we have, and an enchanted mirror for when Janice has to take off her veil. Thankfully, that doesn't happen often. Anyway. Austin's the boss. The whole thing was his idea. I think it was a way for him to tell Janice that he still loved her, even after the Wave. See, she's surfing it now, but him...well, he's why I think the estimate is off. She became what people often call a medusa. The term's wrong. Medusa's a specific example of a creature called a gorgon. Just try telling people that and it's as if you tried glue-on ear tips and are calling yourself Galadriel. Nobody cares, but I digress. They were engaged when the Wave hit, and suddenly she can turn people to stone with a look. It's worse than it sounds, though; the snakes that make up her hair are venomous, and she can't control them. Or not well enough yet. And there's other nasty surprises in a gorgon's body. They're married now, even though he has scars – hidden by the hairline – where those snakes bit him. He's devoted to her, but can barely touch her safely. As I said, I think that's why he devotes himself to the kids. Nearly every child here is a second-gen Waver, and he adores them. I can assure you, it's genuine affection. But it goes beyond that. He went out of his way to hire Wavers, too. After I came out of the braincase, I couldn't land a job for rust. More, laws got passed that more or less outlawed any ways that I might profit off of my powers. The cops didn't need another lie detector, the Skeptic's Association had already awarded the million dollars, and I couldn't fish for stock tips or other 'buried treasures'. Austin kept me from starving. And he hired Nicky. Nicky's our first line of defense for getting the kids to play nice with each other, and our last line of defense for outside threats. His Waveform has just enough innate psi that I can broadcast to him if there's a problem; we make a great team, even if he's only able to work the later hours. He's seventeen; this is his first job, and the wave hit when he was five. He's a great kid, or semblance of one. But who else in the world would hire a vampire that looks like he's in kindergarten? There's a few others, but Nicky, Austin, Janice and I are the ones who're probably going to stay for the rest of our lives. If we can. I might not be able to... It can be hard work. And I'm not referring to the time that Justin, Aaron, Timmy, Larry, Pete, Alphonse and Ricky managed to climb inside the walls. Coaxing a four-year-old hydra out of an air duct may have been the most awkward three hours of my life. No, the hard times are when people are getting hurt. Like the guy with the knives. He came in and he was wearing something that blocked me from reading him. It was a red flag. Walking into a daycare center wearing a mind shield is like waiting in line at a bank while wearing a trenchcoat and a ski mask. I alerted Nicky – but it was daytime, and he couldn't come to the lobby. The guy had pulled a knife when Austin burst in and ploughed straight into him. Austin's mind – you won't understand unless you're a telepath and even then you probably won't unless you encounter someone like him – his mind was golden. Like he was seeing everything perfectly clearly and knew what to do. The guy was down before anything happened; it was incredible. I've only seen Austin go golden like that one other time. There was a little troll kid here, named Sven. It's a daycare center; you watch for certain signs on the kids. Bruises, bloody noses, and ways they act – and think – around adults. Well, Sven had none of the physical signs but all of the behavioral ones. I could read him well enough to figure it out. Trolls heal fast. Really, really fast. Fast enough that we'd never find physical signs of abuse, so long as his bones didn't get broken and heal wrong. I took Austin into the business office and told him what I'd learned. He went gold again, and didn't stop all the rest of the day. I knew where he was going that night and I was scared for him, but I knew I couldn't stop him. I don't know exactly how Austin got Pete's father to confess to the police. I've tried not to read too much off of Austin about what he did; suffice to say that regeneration can be a double-edged sword, and dislocated limbs leave no marks on a full-grown troll. What I did look into, though, was how Austin managed to do it. He's not a Waver. He's just a human (or so he – and everyone else – thinks) and he wasn't in the military. Never studied martial arts or street fighting. He's in great physical shape but I've confirmed that he doesn't actually set aside time for exercise. I thought he might be a superhero Waver for a while, but I think I finally figured it out. The final clue was that the table in the business office is round. Now, I've never been a student of great literature or anything, but once I had the idea, I studied up on the concept. He's in a tragic romance, guards the innocent with the strength of a pure heart and force of arms, and knows a monster when he sees one. He's a Waver all right; his Waveform is a Hero. Not a superhero, a Hero. Possibly the archetype itself. There's certified mad scientists walking around, wizards and the like, why wouldn't there be Heroes? Specifically, I'm afraid that he's like Lancelot. And if he is, then would that make Janice his Guinevere or would it be someone else? Could it be me? Because sure as hell, I love him. And if I stay around, he might love me. And even though I think he's a Hero, I know he's not perfect; if I, knowing what I think I know, would give into temptation, he might too – and betraying Janice would destroy him. The only thing that keeps me from leaving to prevent that is that I don't know that I'm his Guinevere. The stories might just be stories; he might just be a really good man. I might be thinking too much, trying to make him a Waver when he isn't. Or someone else might be his Guinevere. I'm keeping my mind open to spot her. If I do, the moment I know who she is, Nicky and I will be visiting her with a baseball bat.
  21. I could start this story anywhere, but things only got really weird when the knife sank into my shadow and I found that I was pinned to the spot. It was at that point that I really knew that I was more screwed than I had ever been. But that's too far forward. Consider that bit a promise that things get weird in a little while, okay? I had been having fun but nothing really exceptional was happening. I had a free weekend. I was twenty-three and single, and my friends weren't, so it was a perfect recipe for me doing something stupid. Since I prefer not to endanger myself or others – normally, at least – and I live in a small town in the American Midwest, that meant a little jaunt into my old hobby. I like to explore. As a kid I'd gone spelunking a few times and found it neat, but not quite to my taste. I prefer abandoned structures; old farmhouses, boarded-up factories, anything I can get into unnoticed without damaging anything. I get in, I sketch things – with a few embellishments, sometimes – I explore, and I leave. If I don't intend to go back, I'll find an out-of-the-way corner and leave a little souvenir – a coin from my Grandfather's collection. He was amused by the idea of making the collection hard to reassemble, and left it to me as a private joke between us. I know there's a larger internet community about that, somewhere, but I've never really looked into it. I'm not into it for glory, I just enjoy making stories about the places I'm intruding on. I suspect I'd have a lot more choice of target if I lived in Europe. Nothing here that I'd sneak into is really that old. Most buildings like this one will get a local reputation. You know, the neighborhood haunted shack. Not this time. It was exactly as I'd heard from Todd – a building out in the forest. Old timbers. Sturdy-looking door. Now, there are no old-growth forests in my home state – everything got clear cut before environmental concerns were a thing – so I know that this house (well, I assumed it was a house) once sat in a clearing. It had to – one of my criteria for figuring out something was really old (by local standards) is if the timbers used to build it are too large to bring through the woods surrounding it. Definitely the case here. This building was in a ravine, a three-mile hike from the nearest road according to satellite maps. Since Todd told me about the house's existence I'd poked about to find an owner (so at least my apologies could be personalized if I got caught sneaking about) and had found nothing. It wasn't public land – as far as I could tell the paperwork for it had been forgotten, and it didn't officially exist. I was ready to about-face immediately if I came across any kind of squatter or survivalist; my suspicion was someone with connections in local government had built themselves a secret getaway cabin in the woods. Then everyone who knew what was going on had died or forgotten about it and it wound up a ripe-to-be-explored ruin. I'm not really good with architecture. It looked like some kind of extra-large log cabin, with a shingled wooden roof. No windows that I could see. The shingles made me suspect it couldn't have been neglected for that long, but there were no trails. In fact, there was quite a thicket outside. A place this far out wouldn't be plumbed; anyone inside would have to leave to use an outhouse or privy or something. No, it was clearly abandoned. I had to squeeze through the thicket, taking rather a lot longer to clear than I'd like. That's one of the reasons I like to limit my explorations to man-made structures; they are by definition made for humans to pass through. The door was actual a set of iron-bound double doors straight out of a video game. The lock was easy. Well-maintained, which was unusual to me. I eased the door open – I kinda like squeaky hinges – and for a moment I saw the dark-but-mundane interior that I had expected. Then everything lurched. I was no longer standing at the threshold of an old house in Wisconsin. Something hit me in the back – my backpack took the hit but I was still flung prone in a brightly-lit room. I skidded – briefly and painfully – across a hardwood floor, like polished mahogany floorboards. I heard the door shut behind me as a huge-but-unseen bell rang. This had not been in the cards for today. I regained my feet, slowly turning around to take in my surroundings, still not quite understanding what I was seeing yet. The room I was in now was bigger than the entire building that I had been about to enter. There was a grand staircase ahead of me, like a palace staircase or one of those wannabe-palace Southern mansions. Trophies hung from the walls, and for a moment my eyes just skipped over them – I have relatives who are very into hunting but it could never really hold my interest. I did a proper double-take a moment later. Deer don't have spiral horns; also, they have two of them. That was when I saw the knife drop at me from the upper level, hitting the ground in front of me, point-down. I reacted with remarkable aplomb, screaming only once and avoiding soiling myself, but my belated attempt to dodge drew me up short. As I said earlier, the knife had struck my shadow, buried itself in it, in fact, and when I jumped away, I felt a fierce tug back towards the knife. My shadow was unnaturally stretched out, as if pinned in place. Not yet having thought enough to realize how much I should be panicking, I looked up to see if another knife was coming. The man looking down from above was short and heavily muscled. He was naked (at least his shoulders were – he was on the upper level) but that didn't disturb me as much as the fact that he was apparently made of stone. Granite, I think. He nodded, then spoke. “You will wait there for the master. Then you will serve.” ****************** BREAK: Out of character time. Thanks for reading, and I hope you liked it. I've been in a long writing slump and am trying to get back to my roots. My first short stories were serial posts written on a message board; those were so easy to write compared to what came later. I'll try to spend an hour a night on this, if I can. Don't be afraid to critique me on anything I'm messing up, continuity errors, spelling mistakes, or general critiques of tone, relevance or the like. Updates will be put at the last post in the thread, but if discussion overwhelms I'll start attaching the latest version to the first post (if I can).
  22. First off, to save me from putting the whole thread in a spoiler tag I am going to state straight off, I hope to discuss the story and impressions of the game so this post will contain spoilers for the whole story (including the final twist at the very very end). So if you have not played it, please be wary of reading this thread. So I just spent a very happy weekend playing this game and confess that I was quite affected by the narrative (despite its quite enormous plot holes and logical inconsistencies). First off the good points: The art design and atmospheric feel of Columbia is a tour-de-force in my opinion. The city is beautiful well realised and the culture feels quite realistic (as far as games go anyway). The sound and music are also great and I did not really appreciate until the end, how well the music was used to foreshadow the multi-worlds / tears storyline. The game also had some real emotional impact for me as well. I came, quite quickly to feel a significant amount of connection to the relationship between Elizabeth and Booker and culmination of this in the final scene left me starting at the screen for a good 5 minutes in shock and no small amount of emotional turmoil. In particular I found the section climbing through the 're-education' centre listening to Elizabeth's audio journals very affecting. I was properly terrified for what she was going though and whether I would be too late to save her soul. Now, the not so good: The story is, unfortunately, more grand in ambition than in execution. When I though about it outside of the emotional investiture I had placed in it, I quickly realised that the narrative made no logical sense and the ultimate conclusion did not actually resolve anything (and is thus pretty meaningless). At the end of the day, the death of Booker at the Baptism is intended to stop the rise of Comstock in the alternative timeline. However, in an infinite multiverse, such an attempt is meaningless as only the Comstock / Booker from that particular paired timeline will be eliminated. You can always go back to another branch (previous to the baptism) and follow of forward to baptism again and have the same fork. Therefore the death of Booker doesn't really solve anything in that respect. Another issue I had was the gameplay, particularly the combat. It is pretty generic FSP stuff for the most part but has some annoying bullet management and really clunky 'upgrade' mechanics, these made the game needlessly annoying in some sections. The Vigours I found fun to play with but felt that they were not really integrated into either the environment or the populous very well. The Shock Jockey Vigour is a good example of this; the game spends a significant amount of time making you search for this so that you can power the gondola.. fine. But then this mechanic of powering stuff by using the Vigour is completely ignored for the rest of the game. The potential here would have been to use this power to provide innovative solutions to combat or power lifts or... whatever. As a consequence the actual combat in the game is only really interesting during the big set pieces with the skyrails. Also bad... Handymen... they are not a fun addition to the game.. at all! Despite all of these drawbacks though, I thoroughly enjoyed playing. The dynamic between Booker and Elizabeth and the ultimate conclusion of this had real emotional weight (which is rare for me). The logical inconsistencies and less than impressive use of game mechanics in combat did not seem significant while I was playing and only dawned on me after the fact. Anyone else played this game (which I still consider an artistic and emotional masterpiece if not a particularly ground braking one)? If so what did you think?