I always try to write, but i need to not distract myself, and i dont mean like i am distracted when i am writing, but i mean like i write a bit and then i play videogames for weeks.

Maybe what helps would be some kidn of community with writing contests every week or month. Do you uys know such a thing?

I lke Save The Cat, it's about screen plays, but the principles apply to novels as well. Also, as far as ideas go, you want to write those down on note cards or enter them into evernote. One of the big mistakes people make is to fall in love with an idea that doesn't fit their project. Save it and it mai be of use on a future story.

Once, when I was heavily drunk, ridiculously tired and not wearing my eyeglasses, I read it "Avian Fart" and can't not read it like that anymore.

Let me tell you what I like. You are able to, in just a few lines, create an entire scene. I know that you have the image of what is happening floating just outside your normal vision, I'm the same way. As I read your words I instantly start to get an image of my own, it maybe very different from yours but that is the magic if writing. There are many published authors who take three pages to say nothing, you can get more ideas conveyed in a single paragraph. Your grammer and sentence structure could use some work, but as far as I'm concerned that is ancillary. You are a story teller, all you need is practice and polish. By contrast even the most perfectly formed sentences can still fail to tell a comepelling tale.

I say that if it is in your heart to do this then don't let anyone stop you. Not your friends, your wife or most importantly; yourself.

Dear KneeTheCap
need more AO stories thanks

I'd have to translate it into English first, as it was originally written in Dutch. I've had some interest in a translation before, so I well might do so and get some critique on it (it was rushed, after all) before I enter into any further writing contests. :)

Do... elaborate?

I once tried to write, but the words on the page started to writhe before me as though they were alive. I watched them squirm and wriggle, my eyes widening in shock at the spectacle. As I watched, they started merging together and rising off the page like a sticky black tentacle formed from the blobs and tendrils of my twisted letters.

My pen dropped to the floor from my nerveless fingers, and as it hit the ground a terrible booming sound reverberated throughout the entire house. The floor lurched as though it were water and I had dropped a boulder onto its surface, creating waves that knocked over my desk and left me scrambling.

As I staggered about in shock, the tentacle forming from my notebook arose menacingly, hooking back like a scorpions stinger, and I knew instinctually that I was in danger. I was able to dive out of the way when it suddenly lashed out at me, catching my bookshelf instead and furiously scattering pages around the room.

I scrabbled about on the floor, quickly grabbing my pen where it had fallen, and rolled onto my back. The tentacle loomed above me, oozing evil from every shiny black tendril. I determined in that instant that I was not going to allow myself to die, and readied myself for its attack.

As it struck again I rolled away, lashing out with my pen. Where it struck the tentacle, steam arose and black slime splattered; I could hear an eerie screeching sound coming from somewhere, sounding almost like it was coming from inside my own mind.

In an adrenaline fuelled rage I struck it again and again with the pen, its hideous screams ringing in the back of my brain, it's slimy black blood drenching my shirt and covering my face. I howled back in mindless fury, wrestling with a black writhing impossibility but determined to survive.

Eventually, it stopped moving. The body of the tentacle collapsed into a dense mass of inky black letters jumbled on the floor, before they retreated back onto the page from whence they had been spawned. My pen, my great sword, had been broken in the fight. Ink pooled beneath it like blood. I was left trembling in shocked disbelief, heaving for breath amongst the jumbled ruins of my living room.

And that's why I don't try to write anymore.

I enjoy to dabble in short story writing, but I also enjoy writing opinion pieces on hot topics in the VG industry. Maybe one day I'll post some stuff here :P

One thing I love to do as far as Short Stories go though is to play a game like, say Skyrim. Start from anew. Than after an hour of adventuring or so... do a short story on it. It's awesome to explore the feelings of the character when he portrays no feelings in the game. To get a first-person view of what happened mixed with emotions, pain and so much more.

I'm hopping that if/when I get Diablo 2 I'm going to do that because I love the cliche story of Diablo sure but imagine what the adventures feel as they battle waves of enemies? Man I'm getting excited lol!

Now that I think of it... one of my hardest short stories to write from the video game perspective was an adventure in Dark Souls... just try for half a minute to explain how you can die... be physically dead than pop out of a bonfire... It's hard... very hard! I think I finally settled on that he was going to the land of the land of the dead (Sovingard or what ever lol) but was ripped from that spirit and forcibly put into a body... yeah...

I think he was going for the expression "adult-oriented". In other words, porn. :p

Oddly enough, I do the same thing, at least in my head. I never get as far as putting it on paper (or in a Word document).

I even did the same thing with Dark Souls. My explanation for the "respawning" was relatively simple: the Dark Sign (I assume it is a brand) on the Chosen One resonates with the magice present in the bonfires. Whenever he or she dies, the Dark Sign activates and uses magic to transfer his or her basic essence back to the last bonfire he or she interacted with. So basically, it's magic. But then, in a place like Lordran, that's an acceptable explanation, I think. However, I also included the danger of Hollowing. It is suggested in the game that dying too many times will result in the Chosen One going Hollow. While, as far as I know, this does not actually have an effect on gameplay, I included in my story version because it would help with the tension. The Chosen One would have to do his or her best to stay alive, or risk getting closer to becoming Hollow.

"Tell me, girl, do you know history? Do you know how your kind came to be?" said Jerro with a smirk. She moved towards the table, treading carefully in this damp, dimly lit room. On the table lied a limp body, broken and beaten, but still alive. A faint, wet gurgle was heard and followed by a moan of pain. Jerro turned her gaze to the body "what was that, girl? you want to know more? My my, it's a delight to finally find someone who is interested in these abominations. But of course I will tell you more".

She moved right next to the poor, tied up girl, looked at her directly in the eye "No one knows how the demon broke through the veil. It was thought to be impossible but there it was, a demon walking on this very earth. And what did it do? It bred. Its seed spread like wildfire and when it was done, it vanished. No one knows what happened to it or where it went, it was just gone" Jerro sighed deeply and gently stroked the girl's hair "But it did leave its legacy. The offspring, those half-demons, had capabilities no one should have. They could bend the elements, command fire, mold water... they were unstoppable. And they were insane, power-hungry, vicious and evil. They were the first mages".

Jerro turned away from the girl, who was still tied up on the table, barely awake. She picked up a candle and moved to a shelf filled with glass vials. "You see, it's a curse. A disease, if you will" Jerro said while searching through the vials "it runs in your blood. If a mage breeds with another mage, the child will also be one. But if a mage has a normal human partner, the child is most likely pure. It's impossible for two humans to get this curse" Jerro quickly glanced at the tied woman, then returned her focus on the vials "You're a disease, basically. A disease that must be eradicated"

"Ah, here it is" said Jerro while grabbing a glass vial filled with light blue liquid "here, is your salvation, dear girl".

Jerro moved back to the girl, looked down at her, smiled and forced the poor girl's mouth open. The liquid was forcefully poured into the girl's mouth "Now, my dear girl, its time for you to join your brethren"







Geez, I can't get this story out of my head, it just keeps expanding...

No and for the same reason I always avoid creative work: it sucks. :D

For some reason this made my day. Thanks!

Happy to be of service :P