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If you'd read and give feedback on this, I'd be very happy. … The benevolent sun sank below the horizon as twilight came, Its dying amber rays illuminating a canyon, with cliffs of Sharp crags to define its sides. Mighty mountains were these, Impossible to scale or pass, except by the road through the valley. This narrow breach was blocked, however, by an impregnable Fortress, a wall of stone harder than steel, with huge doors of oak and A wrought-iron portcullis to defend its single entryway. This castle blockade was The Gauntlet, and it had never Been taken, nor had its single wall been broken Since its creation. It was a solid giant of man’s forging, with the purpose Of keeping out those sinister and hostile forces, the warriors of a thousand years past; The armies of the undying. Rallied into service by dark sorcerers, These grim reincarnations existed for only the purpose of war And bringing suffering and pain to those who yet lived in full. Of late, strength had been gathering in the lands claimed by the Forces of death; For a new leader, he who was most powerful of all Necromancers, Scallow of Uthras, Scythe-Wielder, had taken control. He used his unrivalled prowess in Dark magic to confer with the Greater Dead, Gods of the underworld, even bartering with Xethrinn the All-Powerful, King of Death, and from this forbidden conference Gained a force of undead warriors the scale of which had never appeared before. It was this army which was now marching through the narrow canyon Towards the Gauntlet. Hundreds of thousands of skinless, rotting feet trod In unnatural unison, a marching horde of the dead bent upon breaking the great barrier. Rusting armor and wicked blades clanged and rattled as Scallow’s troops moved Their muscles and skin and tendons all greyed in death, ravaged organs clinging and hanging From cracked, moldy bones. Upon sharp, tall pikes within the mass fluttered Black banners, emblazoned with the emblem of a white skeletal hand, the seal of Scallow of Uthras. But it was behind the legions of infantry that true beasts of war stood. Gigantic, heavy war-machines had been built for this assault, wooden menaces Which cast long shadows in the dying sun’s radiance. The huge weapons included Trebuchets loaded with boulders the size of cattle, Mortars with powerful metal shots, Repeating guns which spewed forth fire from inside armored wagons, Giant crossbows with arrows the size of spears, Tall siege towers and ladders, and chariots pulled by half-eroded horses, Equipped with rotating bronze axes which chopped and spun as the wheels rolled. Above all the land-locked equipment swooped gliders, The bat-like wings of which beat up and down In a frenzied struggle to remain airborne. They were laden with incendiaries and bombs Designated to tear the Gauntlet apart. Upon the parapets of the Gauntlet, high above these amassed armies of evil, Stood Charon, the elderly conjurer, his raven hair and silver mantle caught in the chill breeze. Charon was first of the land’s wizards to become aware of Scallow’s lust for power And of the creation of his armies. The raven-haired Wizard was quick to alert the kings and rulers of the lands, Who, upon realizing the threat that the scythe-wielder and his armies posed, had created An alliance of three races, those of dwarves, the skilled engineers and miners, Of the lithe and skilled elves, masters of magic and archery, And of men, the populous and militaristic race of ambition. The side of life had, upon the founding of its unity, began to produce War-weapons and fortresses of their own. Charon devised a certain potion from His tower laboratory, An acid, which, when it came into contact With those who were dead, would melt and corrode their bodies, Leaving only spirits which were free to return to quiet death and to rest in peace. Dwarvish inventors took this acid, and created a special bolt which contained it until impact, whereupon The magical compound would splatter over whatever object had shattered its vial. Armed with these special projectiles, the rapid-fire guns commissioned By the men-kings were customized for compatibility, and Would prove to be devastating against any warrior of the dead. Charon stood on the battlements close to one of these aptly named “Deadkiller Guns” which was mounted on the wall. He stared down with hard eyes into the sea of troops and siege engines The first line of which had halted perhaps five-score feet from the base of the wall. “Why have they stopped, sir?” A voice asked from behind Charon. The raven-haired wizard turned, To find himself facing his apprentice, Orion, A youthful elf of prodigal magical potential, who Charon had taken on As an apprentice, to hone and refine the growing creature’s gifts. The raven-haired wizard gave reply to his pupil, voice contemplative. “I know not, Orion. Perhaps the armies of Death Await a signal or a command to commence in their attack. For, you do know, as I have taught you, that reincarnated servants Do not operate without the command of a master. However, this falls into question; We have not seen Scallow of Uthras commanding in person at a battle For some time. I know only of one other way he could give orders To his soldiers; if one of the Gods of the Dead had sent him a very rare And very dangerous form of aid. If Scallow has the Men Who Are Not Men under his command, If his ranks include those most grievous of undead demons, The Wraithra, then all is explained. As is doom spelled out for each and every one of us.” Just as the wise wizard finished speaking, there was a visible stirring of the mindless dead below. The hordes parted, forming an aisle down their middle. What rode through that passageway confirmed their worst fears. A figure, roughly humanoid, composed entirely of shadows, Which seemed to form a cloak of darkness about its body, Rode at a canter through the parted ranks of warriors below upon a skeletal black steed. Where its head should have been, there was naught but void, upon which sat An ornate, wicked-looking open-faced helm, with spikes arranged around the top Forming a crown. For this was indeed a prince, one of the princes of darkness, A Wraithra. When the Man Who Was Not A Man reached the wall of the Gauntlet, it reached inside its Cloak of deepest shadow, and from the billowing, gaseous folds, pulled a blade An alien blade, forged of some unearthly substance, a transparent, green sword That glowed and shone with an unholy corpse-light. The Wraithra let loose an ear-piercing shriek, part war-cry, part laugh, And thrust its strange, deadly weapon into the air Upon which both the dark sword and dark being exploded into verdant fire, Tendrils of supernatural flame licking in and out of the sinister helm. The thousands of fallen warriors before it followed this example, Jeering, shouting, and groaning, they rose their own rusted weapons Creating a horrifying racket Sending fear to the hearts of every man, elf and dwarf Atop the wall of the impregnable Gauntlet. Orion swore beneath his breath, and Charon mumbled An ancient protective spell, hoping to ward off some of the evil of the Wraithra. In the same moment, the Man Who Was Not A Man turned his steed To face the fortress before it, and brought its alien weapon Down, describing a large arc, and giving the order to its army To commence in the attack. With a whoosh, the trebuchets’ long arms swung up, their counterweights dropped, Slinging their boulders at the Gauntlet’s high wall with massive strength. The first rock to hit took with it a fair chunk of masonry, to be sure, But the wall held firm and strong. More projectiles from the mortars and catapults Had similarly little effect, merely denting the impregnable fortress. But the barrage was steady, and it was clear to those assembled That after a time, even if a long time, The wall could perhaps fall. At another point on the wall, close to where the raven-haired Charon stood, One of the tall siege towers rolled on studded wheels towards its destination, Pushed by hundreds of the dead, intended to gain the attacking army access to the parapets. As Charon looked on, Orion behind him sprang into the control seat Of the mounted Deadkiller Gun. The young elf stared intently through the crosshairs, targeting Those of Scallow’s troops who were moving the lofty wooden machine far below. Then he turned the operation crank. With a roaring sound, the weapon began to discharge its Acid-filled projectiles, the gravity-reloading magazine rhythmically falling as shots flew forth into the Mass of warriors moving the siege tower with a stunning efficiency and speed. Deadkiller arrows peppered the horde heavily Upon striking a target, their glass chambers shattered Releasing the potent substance held there with a splatter. Wherever the clear acid Made contact with a being of death, it sizzled and burned, corroding And melting away bone, rotted skin, and shredded muscle, until nothing remained of the Summoned spirit’s body. It was in this manner that Orion banished a large portion of the siege tower’s pushers. But as one dead soldier fell, another replaced him, So numerous were they. Soon, the elf had run out of ammunition, and was unable to further prevent the tower from approaching. It got within ten feet of the Gauntlet’s huge wall, but then, Seemingly from nowhere, A bundle of dynamite, fuse lit, sailed through The air, landing on the top of the wooden tower’s archer platform. With a bang, the grenade combusted, blasting a fist of flame Into the air. The tower’s top exploded apart, splintered wood and warped metal flying in every direction. Charon and Orion both turned back to see from where this aid had come, and their eyes Were met with the sight of the human engineer Derringer, a bandolier draped Over his grease-stained apron and armor. From it dangled more dynamite, engineer’s tools, and a Shining sword. Atop his head sat a battered leather helmet, and a pair of welding goggles. Derringer smiled cockily at his two allies, and spoke with a similar attitude. “It’s a good thing I came when I did, That tower was awful close. I daresay you two Would not have fared nearly so well Had my devices not been there to solve the problem.” Neither the young elf nor elderly conjurer had any time to reply, however, For above their heads in that moment the enemy’s gliders soared Bat-like wings fluttering and beating to keep the vehicles airborne. A trio of these mechanical birds it was, that flew above the top of the Gauntlet’s high battlements And, upon reaching the part of parapet Which had been constantly battered down by the Trebuchets and cannon of Scallow’s forces, dropped their loads. The gliders let go the bombs they had been carrying And then it was that all chaos broke loose. The bricks of the Gauntlet’s wall, before so adamant and solid Crumbled and broke when the bombs exploded, sending huge chunks of masonry Falling down to the ground, crushing hundreds of the dead who were close to the wall Under an avalanche of stone. Once the formerly proud structure had finished with its dying throes, And the dust had cleared, there was left a rent in the previously impenetrable barrier that The Gauntlet had been. With a great and terrible cheer, the mass of deathly soldiers outside of the Gauntlet swarmed Towards the newly-created breach, a mass of movement so vast that it appeared an ocean. But they were met by a line of men with large shields, and with axe-wielding dwarves A formidable melee force, which easily defended the narrow rift And cut and slashed and stabbed at the oncoming sea of skeletons. Elvish archers stood atop the wall on either side of the breach, and skillfully fired Arrow after arrow into the fray. The side of life held its ground even against their numerical disadvantage For a time. But the tilting of favor changed When, galloping agilely through the swarm of dead on its bony steed Rode the nightmarish Wraithra, corpse-blade raised And whole form covered in dancing green fire. Time seemed to slow As the demon flew forward, evil radiating from it as its stallion carried it towards the small force Of living beings who had held off Scallow’s armies. Directing one shadowy hand at the wall of Dwarves and Men, the Man Who Was Not A Man Spurted forth a long tendril of sickly flame from its palm. With the chain of glowing fire, the Wraithra targeted one of the strongest-looking men in the crowd And threw its energy at that man, using the green flame to lift him off the ground. The man screamed as his attacker lazily flicked its wrist back, directing with it The string of fire, and flinging the man hundreds of feet into the air, sending him Sailing backward into the army of corpses behind, whereupon he was devoured. Charon, Orion, and Derringer Watched this spectacle in horror. The Wraithra mercilessly killed several more Using its sword, the ominous blade shrieking through the air as it took life after life. Orion started forward in anger, his crossbow primed, but Charon held him From dashing down into the battle below. The Raven-Haired wizard chided his apprentice. “Orion, patience! Your crossbow stands no chance In the face of a Wraithra. No mortal weapon, in fact Can defeat it; were you to try, it would be suicidal. No, the only method possible to destroy one of them Would be by using magic, and no mean magic at that. Tell me, apprentice, have you still that azure crystal Which I gave you in the beginning? Remember, I said, ‘Keep this crystal well, Orion, for you may well need it.’ Yes, now you recall! Fetch me this crystal, boy For it is a very powerful magical object; its natural substance is Most abhorrent to the dead, and, if I remember correctly, to Wraithra as well. “ Orion silently rifled through his bag, searching it for the blue stone Charon had given him. Upon finding it, the prodigious elf handed the crystal A stone no bigger than his palm, and unrefined To Charon. The wizard then fixed this small but powerful item Atop his oaken staff, then wordlessly motioning for his two comrades to follow him down to the breach. By the time the trio of heroes had reached the area of conflict, Their archenemy had already slain almost the entirety of troops who had blocked the Wall-breach. Only enough yet survived to desperately pen in the eager tide Of undead. Orion leapt like a deer onto the slanting side of the broken wall, Crouched there, and let fly a quiver-full of arrows from his crossbow, Felling a fair number of his adversaries. Derringer joined the thinning line of Defenders, using his shining blade to parry and hold back Scallow’s armies. Charon targeted the Wraithra, his staff emitting bursts of bright light from its knobbed end, The flashes of magical energy magnetically drawn to the demon. However, each one of the raven-haired wizard’s assaults was in turn devoured by The dancing green flame which engulfed the Man Who Was Not A Man. But when the elderly conjurer swung his staff, crystal-embedded end forward, at his foe Its skeletal mount reared backward in fear and alarm as the blue stone Came close, its internal phosphorescence glowing brighter as it swooshed past. The Wraithra shrieked in shock, pain, and fury, and swung its verdant, wicked sword Down at Charon’s staff, severing the thick wood shortly below where the crystal was affixed Cleaving it entirely with a single strike. The enchanted rock fell to the ground with a dull thud. Orion watched from his perch on the crumbled bricks of the huge wall as His mentor’s long staff was severed and its effective tip was lost. The nimble elf sprang from his perch and down towards the place where it had fallen, Landing on a number of the dead as he made it to earth. The prodigious apprentice quickly stood, and pushed aside Those in his path as he made his way towards the crystal’s place in the dirt, About which the Man Who Was Not A Man’s steed tread nervously. Orion wasted no time in making his move. He darted forward, and quickly snatched the powerful blue stone, Only barely avoiding the dark stamping hooves of The bony black horse as he slid on the ground head-first, crystal clutched in his outstretched hands. Orion heard flame crackle behind him as the Wraithra’s hand Sprung into animated green fire, and it launched a ball of the otherworldly energy. But its projectile never reached its intended target. An invisible shield, created by Charon, Now stood between Orion and his enemy; the orb of flame dissipated With a hiss as it met the force-field. The Wraithra turned to the aging wizard with another wrathful, spine-tingling cry, And directed its streaming attack at him instead. It was now that Orion saw his chance. He took the blue crystal in his hand, and Threw it at the shadowy form of the Man Who Was Not A Man. The little chunk of stone shed its light Brighter and brighter as it came closer to the Wraithra, and beaming a finalistic halo of azure When it collided with the shadow-formed and cloaked figure. A sound that could by no reasoning could ever be defined as earthly Left the Wraithra as the crystal hit and stuck onto its body. Desperately, The dark demon tried to claw and burn the stone off of its chest, but could not; For the magical little rock had begun to work its power. The previously Human-shaped body of solid shadow seemed to melt And liquefy, turning more vapory and insubstantial as the crystal sucked in its Dark material and green flame. There was soon but a small cloud of Wispy remnants, but they vanished quickly. Only the entity’s sinister helm, alien blade, and the stone which had consumed it remained, All three of which fell into the dust as one. The Man Who Was Not A Man was no more. … The benevolent sun sank below the horizon as twilight came, Its dying amber rays illuminating a canyon, with cliffs of Sharp crags to define its sides. Mighty mountains were these, Impossible to scale or pass, except by the road through the valley. This narrow breach was once blocked by an impregnable Fortress, a wall of stone harder than steel, with huge doors of oak and A wrought-iron portcullis to defend its single entryway. This castle blockade had been The Gauntlet, and it had only once Been taken since its creation. But that once was enough.
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My NaNoWriMo word count for today is 3,421 words. For those who are interested, that's the entire first chapter and the title of the second chapter, so I'm making progress, which is always a good thing for NaNoWriMo. Anyone else have any NaNo word count updates? Not that I am trying to compare myself to anybody, but I'm interested in seeing how others have progressed on the first day. -TNTOS-
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Tomorrow is not only the first day of November, but is also the beginning of National Novel Writing Month! I've been looking forward to this ever since September, really, though I still feel unprepared for some reason despite my 127 pages of world building notes, character bios, etc. that I have saved on my computer. Maybe that's just pre-NaNo nerves or something *shurg*. Anyway, I'm thinking of updating my blog every day next month with my current word count, right up until I reach 50k, maybe even higher than that if I've my math right, to perhaps at least 60k if I don't have any interruptions (I know I'm tempting Fate, but Fate's a nice guy sometimes and he's promised to leave me [mostly] alone next month XD). Definitely going to be interesting nonetheless, however. And no, I don't think I'll be discussing the story itself next month, either, as I don't really want anyone to steal my ideas 'cause I do plan to publish it someday. I know that you guys probably wouldn't take my ideas without asking, but better to be safe than sorry, eh? -TNTOS-
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Write a short story, make it seem interesting and slightly confusing, and then end it with a twist ending that makes little sense (bonus points if its in first person!). Then people will start posting just to ask what it all means or what really happened. Did it with my own short story, "Paranoia," (link in one of my content blocks) and it got the most replies of any of my short stories ever because of it. I've only ever tried this with short stories, as I doubt it would work as effectively in epics or comedies, though it possibly could if you are a good enough writer, I don't know. True, it may seem a little unorthodox or whatever the word you may use to describe it and I don't recommend doing it for every story you write unless that is your style. But it works if you want replies and don't care what they say. Whether you wish to do it is up to you, however. -TNTOS-
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Go Team 4! -Nuju Metru
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It's been a long-awaited plan of mine to go back and touch up my only existing epic, Search and Destroy. Finally, I've found the time to start making revisions. If you've read any of my work other than S&D, then you shouldn't expect much from it. The writing quality is much lower, and I've since adopted a higher standard in what I want to have posted here on BZP. As such, I'm going back and revising much of the epic, making some relatively big changes to the style of narration and description, hopefully to bump up the quality a notch. No changes to the plot will be made. The revised Chapter 1 has been posted in the epic's topic. If you haven't read it before, now would probably be a good time to start. I'll keep you updated as each chapter is revised. When I'm done revising them all, maybe I'll finally be able to post the last chapter. *lol*
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Your motivation has worked. (That, and I had extended time on the computer today -- and a non-school day to boot. ) Chapter 18 is posted! The battle has begun! *is sitting in a bomb shelter, in case I get a bad reaction from Japoro about it*
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20.731707317073170731707317073171% of all active comedies are ask comedies.
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I'm going alright with the next LST chapter, but I'm not spending as much time on it as I oughta be. If you guys have any motivational words, bribes, or just go and kick my butt about working more diligently on it (and on my homework and school newspaper too, while you're at it ), that'd be awesome.
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So, I've been thinking lately about BZPower's writing scene. Many people say that their writings are ignored and that authors on BZP don't get the attention they deserve. As examples of BZP's great writers they say GaliGee, Bonesii, Spirit, and xccj. I, however, feel like they leave perhaps the most vibrant part of writing out of the equation. RPGs. Let's face it. More people play RPGs than regularly write and read epics. They are a large and integral part of the community. But why are people such as Koname, Celeste, Robo, and Dr. Bionicle left out of the spectrum of great BZP authors? In fact, I think the only GM that is widely respected among the Library Denizens is Beliwa. So, my question to you is this. Are GMs authors, just of a different writing style? Does the name Kumata Nuva deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence as Takuta-Nui? Are RPGs truly a form of writing? And which, authors or GMs, are the true "best writers" on BZPower?
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So, the votes are finally in, and it turns out that Exo-Fat, SPIRIT, and Tifosi 92 have won! I'd be lying if I said I wasn't sad that I didn't win third place at least, but that's life. You can't win everything, and there's always gonna be a bigger fish than you. Congrats winners, and great contest to everyone else that entered!
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Why is it that even when I have all the time in the world to write and to draw, I just can't do it? > -Nuju Metru
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I often find that when I start a new story, I have a hard time writing the beginning. Everything seems to go by painstakingly slow, like rusted gears in an old clock. Nothing seems interesting or fun or entertaining or whatever until I get past the first few paragraphs. Fortunately, I never give up, even if the beginning is boring, but I know that it will eventually pick up sometime and it always does. The beginning still isn't that good, but I can always edit or revise it later (which I do, of course). Now the middle of the story, that's almost always the easist part for me to write. Sometimes I get stuck in the mud, but it always interests me. Possibly because in the middle of the story I now know my characters, the location, plot, etc better than when I started, making it much easier to drive conflict between the characters and the enviornment and such because I know it so well and am familiar with it. I also tend to have an easier time writing a series with characters that I am familiar with, although even those can suffer from having hard to write beginnings as well. And then there comes a time when I have to end the story, which can also be hard, but in a different way than beginnings. While my beginnings tend to start out slower, my endings tend to keep trying to go on because I start to unconsciously add more and more stuff to the ending that just seems plain unnecessary to me at the time but at the same time I realize if I delete it that it the ending will just feel rushed and badly written. This doesn't affect me as much with short stories, but with epics/novels this can annoy me. Ironically, later on, when I am in the editing stage, the endings turn out much better than I thought at the time (although of course I still edit it because no ending is perfect the first time written). However, I have discovered that when I go ahead and rewrite a story for its second draft, its beginning and endings tend to be much more natural and interesting for me, probably because I know where I want the story to go and so it gives me the will to continue writing and I know when to naturally end it. I have been using this technique - writing the first draft from scratch, then deleting it and rewriting it in its second draft - for my yet-to-be-posted Glatorian Chronicles #4: The Fallen Warrior and An Unlikely Alliance, the latter of which I am still in the process of rewriting, and it has worked incredibly well. Methinks this will be my main technique when editing short stories and epics from now on, mostly because I enjoy rewriting my stories a lot. So, to my fellow writers out there, I pose these questions to you: 1) What's easiest for you to write: Beginnings, middles, or endings? 1a) Why is the one you chose easiet to write? 2) What's the hardest part for you to write: Beginnings, middles, or endings? 2a) Why is the one you chose hardest to write? Hopefully your answers will generate some interesting comments in the comments section below . -TNTOS-
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What am I worried about? Well, currently, I am planning and worldbuilding an original fiction series I call Two Worlds. Been putting a lot of effort and work into it, but I just came across something that may complicate things. In one of the many worlds that the story takes place in, the people of said world worship a god named Razac. Unfortunately, what I learned a few days ago was that a very similiar name, Ra'zac, is used in the Inheritance series of books. You see, I plan to publish Two Worlds eventually (after I have written it, of course) and Razac and the people who worship him will play a very insignificant role, but I'm worried of being accused of plagarism, although I can assure you that I thought of the name Razac far before I knew that the name Ra'zac even existed. Although I am hoping that no one will really notice or care, I can't help but feel a little worried that somebody might just get angry at me and accuse me of plagarism, even though I haven't stolen any names, at least intentionally, anyway. Does anyone know if it actually counts as plagarism or am I just getting worried for nothing? Would appreciate it if someone answered. If not, I may have to do the research myself, although I am pretty sure that it doesn't count as plargarism, as it isn't the exact same name, right? -TNTOS-
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I'm encountering writers block. Hoo-rah. -Nuju Metru
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Whenever I write the dialogue of characters in my stories, I don't usually worry about grammar. I mean, yeah, most of them speak pretty good and are understandable to the average reader, but if I happen to see a grammar mistake I usually overlook it because in my opinion, character dialogue doesn't necessarily have to have perfect grammar, since few people in real life speak perfect grammar and since good fiction emulates real life, I let my characters speak in bad grammar sometimes, if necessary. Of course, I understand the difference between real life and fiction. In fiction, you want to be clear, precise, and you can achieve that through editing and revising. You can't usually do that in real life unless you're preparing a speech, so it makes sense that a lot of people would only speak average level grammar than perfect grammar. Most of the time, when my characters speak bad grammar, it is sort of a mistake, but I rarely change it unless it doesn't make sense and would confuse the reader. So whenever I review fanfiction, unless it is totally incomprehensible and I can't figure out what they're saying, I rarely bother to critique the grammar in character dialogue (although if I see very bad grammar in a paragraph outside of dialogue I will point it out and tell you what was wrong with it and how to improve it). Some people may disagree with me, of course, and they have every right to do that. But I find that this is a pretty subjective idea and one that people rarely discuss unless it is about the different words and speech patterns that characters and people use when having speaking sometimes. -TNTOS-
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GC#4: The Fallen Warrior will be posted as a two or three chapter epic soon. The reason for this is because I tried to post it as a short story earlier today, but when I actually did post it, about half of it was missing because it was too long (20,000 words long, to be exact) and I deleted it all and reported the topic for closure. I'm still counting it as a GC, but it will simply have chapters instead of being one big story. -TNTOS-
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Have words in them. ~AW
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Shhh! It's coming! ZOMG! It came!
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Warning: This post is going to be extremely positive and you may disagree with me on some points. If so, please take note that this is all pretty much my personal taste and you may have different tastes, though if you have anything interesting to add you may do so in the comments . Anyway, back to the action: I like stories that have mysteries at the center of them or at least play a big part in the grand scheme of things. I like it when the author plants clues, hints, and red herrings, making us think and try to put it all together and see if we're right at the end. I like the whole mysterious feel that most mysteries give stories. It makes it feel epic, which is good, especially if it is a fantasy or sci-fi story. I'm not necessarily talking about whodunnit mysteries, though those can be good as well, in a different sort of way. I'm talking about the kind of mysteries in BIONICLE, for example, or in Harry Potter or Kingdom Hearts, sometimes even Heroes as well. The kind of mystery where it seems like someone or something is doing something or is about to do something, but no one knows what is going on, except for usually the villains or some third party group that sees itself above the others. Like, let's take the Plan from BIONICLE, for example. It was a mystery for a while. Like, we didn't know what Teridax was up to, what he was actually planning to do (though we could guess), what the exact details were, etc. And when we found out what it really was, it made the whole thing worth it, in my opinion. Not that I approve of what Teridax did, but I felt that Greg did a job hinting at it and stuff. Of course, there are other BIONICLE mysteries, but that's the one that sticks out to me at the moment. I like it when the characters run across some mysterious ruin or dead body or some strange inscription that makes no sense until much later. I like it because not only do we get to see the characters think and ponder about it (something I enjoy as long as it is in moderation) but it gives us something to theorize and think about, giving the story a whole new level of depth in my opinion. Of course, mysteries can be done badly, or the revelation is very underwhelming. I can't think of any specific example, but if you keep hinting at something big and mysterious, having black-hooded figures appearing and giving cryptic messages, and then make the final revelation something like, "Bill ate the final cookie last Tuesday!" it'll make the readers (at least me) feel very disappointed unless you're doing a comedy. But in general, most of the mysteries I've seen are very well done or are worth all of the speculating that I or the fans did. In fact, I like mysteries so much that I try to make sure that most of my longer stories (and even some short stories) have at least one central mystery that the characters try to solve, even if they didn't know about or even care about it at first. It also helps when the author gives hints and clues outside the story in interviews and Q&A sessions with fans. Especially if they don't answer directly, which is why I enjoy the OGD a lot. 'Course I don't ask Greg a lot of questions, but I enjoy reading his answers to other peoples' questions just the same. And I just love when we finally see the pay off and it's something I didn't expect at all, yet if you look back and pay close attention to the story, you'll actually see that the revelation is perfectly logical, which just makes it even better. That's really awesome. I really think it is. "Two Worlds," my original fiction series I plan to write some day, will of course have several mysteries. Not going to actually talk about them (I want to keep most of TW a secret) but I can already think of several that will hopefully make people speculate and theorize, which is something that I enjoy doing. As you can no doubt tell, I like BIONICLE, Harry Potter, Kingdom Hearts, and Heroes, particularly KH at the moment. -TNTOS-
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First, I post a MOC, then an Short Story? What's wrong with me? -Nuju Metru
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My latest epic, The BIONICLE Story Team has been updated. The new chapter can be seen here. Please read and review!
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Again, I'm inspired to write, but can't think of any subject matter that really appeals to me for a quick piece, which I wanna write tonight, if possible, before I lose the vibe and regain stupid my writers block. Ideas? -Nuju Metru
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I'm a Co-Curator for the Comedies Critics Club, and I'm blogging now to tell y'all that we're in need of some good, skilled Critics to help review all the comedies that get requested by authors... If anyone is interested, you can PM me! -Nuju Metru
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See here. -Nuju Metru
