Here's a snippet of a story I'm writing for class...

[L'Oiseau Noir]

The hallway was dark and rusted: blood, or at least something like it, seeped from walls, devouring the very fabric of the twisted world around him. Like winding trails of ink, the foreign matter crept across the floors and stripped the very fabric of the strange dimension, down to a bare grating that seemed as if it was suspended over an abyss of nothingness. A siren echoed in the distance and all grew dark: lumpy malformed shadows squirmed in the darkness, the swish of a gargantuan fan drifted through the thickening caliginosity, and the soft groans of unseen creatures resonated from every corner of the corridor.

Gabriel Rose felt like he had been here before, yet, somehow he didn’t. He wasn’t sure what to make of this strange and frightening place. With cautious steps he proceeded down the lonely stretch of grating, trying his best to ignore the shapeless blobs moving around in the darkness, watching him in utter silence. He shined his flashlight on his surroundings, to see if he could procure even the slightest clue as to where he had been taken. There were stretchers scattered throughout the hallway, adorned with what appeared to be the covered bodies of human beings--like a hospital of some kind. Old overturned wheelchairs, covered with rust and bent in odd angles, were scattered about the bizarre hall, and an eclectic mess of discarded medical equipment accompanied the grim scenery.


I don't think it sounds too horribly--thoughts? It's for a short story thing we have to do as a homework assignment. I based this off of Silent Hill (yes I'm nerdy).

[PutridLily]

It isn't bad, the punctuation and grammar could do with a little work. I would be interested in seeing the rest of this, you set a great atmosphere.

I liked that last part.

Originally Posted by L'Oiseau Noir

Old overturned wheelchairs, covered with rust and bent in odd angles, were scattered about the bizarre hall, and an eclectic mess of discarded medical equipment accompanied the grim scenery.

[L'Oiseau Noir]

Thank you very much.

Yeah, I have a bit of a problem with punctuation and what not. But that's why I bought "English Grammar for Dummies!" =) Plus, I usually have my friends (who are major literacy geeks) or other people who're well-versed in literacy to help me proofread it.

I've been aiming to write a novel, but I don't think I've got quite enough skill yet for that. But ah well, in due time I suppose.

Thank you for your feedback, too!

Perhaps I shall post the rest later? I'm not sure as of yet.

If anyone's got tips, I'm all ears! n_n

I think my problem is I get too comma happy. I really need to break that habit because I know it isn't necessary to have so many breaks in a sentence.

[Methadrine]

Don't worry with the punctuation etc at the first run through though, if you feel that it hinders you. Write the story, that's the important part. After you've got it all down you can go back and change parts that felt wrong, spelling errors, grammatical errors etc but atleast you got the backbone of it all done.

[L'Oiseau Noir]

Originally Posted by Methadrine

Don't worry with the punctuation etc at the first run through though, if you feel that it hinders you. Write the story, that's the important part. After you've got it all down you can go back and change parts that felt wrong, spelling errors, grammatical errors etc but atleast you got the backbone of it all done.

Yeah, I usually do that. =)

Or I end up spending forever on one paragraph looking it over and over as I try to discover problems with it. xD Either way, I get revisions done.

[PutridLily]

Oh, another would-be novelist. Remember - get it published.

I think your use of colons was unnecessary.

[L'Oiseau Noir]

I plan to. And I shall fix that colon problem straightaway! Thank you for pointing it out. Really--I need all the help I can get. n_n

[L'Oiseau Noir]

As he was approaching the halfway point of the corridor, a curious noise distracted Gabriel. He guided his flashlight to a wall--the sound was a lot like a valve turning--and saw a lanky humanoid creature rotating a rusty valve handle. Its face was non-existent, and it wore an apron of sorts made of a strange material similar to flesh. In fact, its face, at least what was supposed to be its face, looked as if somebody had pulled a fleshy cloth over it.

“What in God’s name….” Gabriel trailed off though, stepping away from the wall of the corridor. The monster just kept turning the valve, oblivious to his presence--Gabriel wanted to keep it that way.

Further he traveled down the hall, past rows of numbered doors and gaunt stretchers, with no particular direction in mind; his feet seemed to be moving on their own volition, like they wanted to take him somewhere important. A place he’d forgotten a long time ago.

Gabriel came to a full stop, however, for a lithe shadow manifested before him in the folds of darkness. It was a girl with dark hair and greenish-brown eyes, her body wrapped in bandages. She wore a stained and tattered navy jacket over her torso, and though a majority of her body had seemed to have sustained some form of damage, her pale face remained unscathed. The girl had a very pretty face in fact, with thin cheekbones and a sharp, narrow nose. Her lips were soft and pale like her skin, and she had this otherworldly wiseness in her eyes, like she’d seen so many things in her life no normal person could ever fathom. But, also, the girl seemed sad--Gabriel could see the sorrow in her eyes.

“Who are you?” he asked.

The girl stared emptily at Gabriel, as if she was looking right through him.

“Hey,” Gabriel took a sole step forward, “can you tell me you’re name?”

“How could you forget?” the girl asked in a half-whisper. A fringe of black hair covered one of her eyes, but the visible one remained intent on Gabriel. “How could you forget about those summer nights in Silent Hill, Gabriel? The precious time we had spent together….”

Gabriel looked at the girl funnily, uncertain of what she’d meant by “precious time” or “Silent Hill.” He didn’t remember anything like that--and he was sure he would have if such a thing had transpired. “I don’t even know you,” Gabriel said, feeling the hairs on his neck begin to prickle. “Silent Hill? I’ve never been there… that place was closed off years ago from the public.”

“You were there once,” the girl said cryptically. “You and I were both there once, Gabriel. We lived in that town as children… we played there, went to school there. How can you forget such wonderful memories?”

“What memories? There never were any memories!”

“You left me a long time ago, Gabriel,” the girl continued. “You left me alone in Alchemilla, and now that I’ve found you, I’m taking you back home to Silent Hill. I want you by my side again, just as you were seven years ago. Dahlia will not interfere this time.”

As the girl spoke those words, it was as if the fury of all Hell had been invoked. The sirens resonated from the murky depths of the decrepit world, and everything around Gabriel began to collapse into darkness. He tried to move, but he was held fast by an unseen force. Before him, a strange red seal began to form as if a ghostly hand was drawing it: it was a weird triangular marking with unreadable squiggles written in its core, as well as the circle that encompassed it. It pulsated and flashed, filling the corridor with a bright red glow. An indescribable pain rocked Gabriel’s body, like his flesh was slowly being peeled away and his insides were being scooped out. He writhed and screamed, falling helplessly to his knees. Then he felt something warm push itself up his esophagus--blood….

That was the rest of the story--it was a very small writing assignment, so I didn't go all out on it. After all, it's not like it's a draft for a novel--that won't be done for quite some time; well, until I finish reading and memorizing all the important rules listed in "English Grammar for Dummies."

Sorry for the suckage. =P

[L'Oiseau Noir]

The pain intensified--his innards felt as if they were being pushed up into his throat, then slowly pulled from his body through his mouth by some malignant entity.* (Just a minor revision, which I think sounds a tad better).

I might rewrite this and post it somewhere as a fanfiction. I'm nerdy, haha.

[HumanePain]

You do have potential! I like your description of the "discarded medical equipment", you set the stage well.

There are some things I would change, but I may be bordering on style differences, differences in taste or perception, so I will refrain from saying anything. I will say this: you obviously are a natural because the reader can tell you (as the writer) have a vision, very important. You are not just putting words together and telling a story, you are describing what you see in your mind. This is how I write as well.

Always bear in mind that you want to describe your vision as vividly as possible, and describe it in a fashion that will not interrupt the reader's dream flow. You want them sucked into the tale, you want them there, seeing it play in their minds. THAT is power, THAT is exciting, and THAT makes writing fun! The very best of luck to you!

[PutridLily]

Yes, I totally agree with Humane.

Also, your writing seems to capture a certain apprehension, I would really play on this. You certainly have potential.

Esophagus; my new favourite word.

[L'Oiseau Noir]

Originally Posted by HumanePain

You do have potential! I like your description of the "discarded medical equipment", you set the stage well.

There are some things I would change, but I may be bordering on style differences, differences in taste or perception, so I will refrain from saying anything. I will say this: you obviously are a natural because the reader can tell you (as the writer) have a vision, very important. You are not just putting words together and telling a story, you are describing what you see in your mind. This is how I write as well.

Always bear in mind that you want to describe your vision as vividly as possible, and describe it in a fashion that will not interrupt the reader's dream flow. You want them sucked into the tale, you want them there, seeing it play in their minds. THAT is power, THAT is exciting, and THAT makes writing fun! The very best of luck to you!

Thanks so much! I never really thought I was wonderful, and I know I can improve... hence why I keep practicing and practicing while reading and rereading "English Grammar for Dummies." I can already see I'm improving, so I'm excited.

Thanks you guys for taking the time to read this! I thoroughly hope you enjoyed it. xD

And thank you so much for the tip, Humane! I shall definitely keep it in mind for the next piece I write! Perhaps I'll post it here, too, in the near future. =)

[L'Oiseau Noir]

Okay, so I decided to rewrite this story as a sort of practice to sharpen my writing skills.

The room was dark and rusted; blood, or at least something like it, seeped from walls, devouring the very fabric of the twisted world around him. He sat up in a bed--he hadn’t remembered laying down here--and examined the grim, deteriorating room that encompassed him. The walls were splotched with what appeared to be dry patches of blood, and the floors were cement--there were windows, strangely enough, and a dusky sunset filtered through the glass. But outside, there was nothing but a vast abyss of sunlight--it was fake, and he wondered, was the world he was in now fake as well? Furthermore, where was he? He examined the barren enclosure: there were old hospital cots scattered about the room, an ancient television set he doubted worked, discarded syringes and other medicines, and a couple of IV hooks that had been carelessly thrown onto the floor.

“Where am I….” he murmured as he sat up on his musty cot, which gave a sharp squeak as its frame had suffered an extensive amount of rust due to neglect. The gentle, yet somehow unnerving swish of a table fan filled the room, and when he listened closely he could swear he heard voices of some sort--human voices, though they were distant and barely audible.

He pushed himself off of the yellowed, blood-spattered cot. Looking at it, he made a face, since he hadn’t realized he’d been sitting all this time in filth. But he digressed, knowing it wasn’t particularly a good time to fuss over silly things like that--firstly he had to figure out where he was, and if this all a dream or a wine-induced hallucination. If that was the case, he would swear off red wine for good--he had to have been triply trashed to dream a place like this up.

Wandering over to a cracked tabletop mirror, he looked at his reflection to see if he, too, had changed along with the world. To his relief he hadn’t. His hair was still the same shade of blood red, and his eyes were still the bright, cat green orbs they always had been. He ran his fingers down his thin cheeks, quite happy to still have his pale skin and face intact. Brushing the fringe of cherry-colored hair from his eyes, he took one last look at himself in the mirror before departing--now he had to find an exit of some sort. A crooked door, worn and dirtied with rust, was a few feet to his right; there was something ominous and malignant about it, like a whole other world awaited him just beyond the threshold.


Hope it doesn't sound too awful.

[HumanePain]

OK, I cannot resist any longer: In your first sentence, remove "or at least something like it," OK? That is a phrase for casual conversations.

The reason is, if it is unnecessary it doesn't need to be in there. A story should be trimmed of cluttering words and phrases. But I know why you said it, so here is how you can justify the intent of the sentence and achieve that aim without the superfluous phrase:

"warm crimson liquid seeped from walls, devouring the very fabric of the twisted world around him. "

This accomplishes two things: it leads the reader to imagine it may be blood without actually saying it, and you also reduce the number of times you use the word blood in the whole story. Overuse of a word deadens it's impact. Save the word blood for when he actually sees it on the discarded medical equipment or dripping from the headless neck of a corpse or something.

Just my humble opinion. I am not a professional writer, but these things I have learned from others who have advanced education in writing, some members from Gothic.net in fact.

Again, the best of luck and KEEP WRITING!

[L'Oiseau Noir]

Originally Posted by HumanePain

OK, I cannot resist any longer: In your first sentence, remove "or at least something like it," OK? That is a phrase for casual conversations.

The reason is, if it is unnecessary it doesn't need to be in there. A story should be trimmed of cluttering words and phrases. But I know why you said it, so here is how you can justify the intent of the sentence and achieve that aim without the superfluous phrase:

"warm crimson liquid seeped from walls, devouring the very fabric of the twisted world around him. "

This accomplishes two things: it leads the reader to imagine it may be blood without actually saying it, and you also reduce the number of times you use the word blood in the whole story. Overuse of a word deadens it's impact. Save the word blood for when he actually sees it on the discarded medical equipment or dripping from the headless neck of a corpse or something.

Just my humble opinion. I am not a professional writer, but these things I have learned from others who have advanced education in writing, some members from Gothic.net in fact.

Again, the best of luck and KEEP WRITING!

Thanks, and I'll take that into mind! I have a problem with repetition and useless words, but it's not a serious story I'm looking to get published, so I'm not too incredibly worried. But I'll definitely take any advice you can offer me!

I'm always looking to improve. n_n

[L'Oiseau Noir]

I changed "or something like it" to "black rivulets of liquid." I think that sounds better. Thanks for the help. n_n

Haha, you know what they say--trial and error!

As for the rest of the piece; did it sound all right to you? I thought it flowed pretty smoothly, though that could just be my amateurishness speaking. xD

[Miss Cogs]

Originally Posted by L'Oiseau Noir

The hallway was dark and rusted: blood, or at least something like it, seeped from walls, devouring the very fabric of the twisted world around him.

Heh. When I first read this sentence. I went auto, and thought Silent Hill. Everything is rusted....and bloody.

I like the story you've got going on here. Considering, I'm a Silent Hill fan as well, so the images given are making me love it even more. You know what would be a perfect monster in this story...those monkies from the 4th game. Or those nurses that burped when you hit them. That is, if you want to put a monster from the game in there.

[L'Oiseau Noir]

Originally Posted by Miss Cogs

Heh. When I first read this sentence. I went auto, and thought Silent Hill. Everything is rusted....and bloody.

I like the story you've got going on here. Considering, I'm a Silent Hill fan as well, so the images given are making me love it even more. You know what would be a perfect monster in this story...those monkies from the 4th game. Or those nurses that burped when you hit them. That is, if you want to put a monster from the game in there.

There will be SH monsters in it. Haha. I'm probably going to post it as a fanfiction on a website later--I'm geeky like that--just because I love doing fan stories. I won't do my original novel till later, when I've gained a bit more skill in writing... which is precisely why I'm doing his now to practice.

Anyway, I'm glad you're enjoying it!

[LadyStardust]

I've never been a fan of overly metaphorical descriptions. Blunt, active, literal descriptions have always worked better for me. I love metaphors and flowery language, don't get me wrong; I just find that if you overload each paragraph with metaphor after metaphor, it gets more and more difficult to get a TANGIBLE feeling of what's going on. Does that make any sense?

[L'Oiseau Noir]

Originally Posted by LadyStardust

I've never been a fan of overly metaphorical descriptions. Blunt, active, literal descriptions have always worked better for me. I love metaphors and flowery language, don't get me wrong; I just find that if you overload each paragraph with metaphor after metaphor, it gets more and more difficult to get a TANGIBLE feeling of what's going on. Does that make any sense?

Yes, perfectly! =)

Unfortunately, when I write I tend to go really into description to give the reader an idea of what's going on. Being really blunt doesn't work with me, plus it's gotten me scolded by many, many professional writers on critique forums. xD

[LadyStardust]

Have you ever read Stephen King's "On Writing"? His fictions may not be the best out there, but I really loved this book. His tips are invaluable. If you intend on going somewhere with your writing, I would strongly suggest picking it up.

[L'Oiseau Noir]

Originally Posted by LadyStardust

Have you ever read Stephen King's "On Writing"? His fictions may not be the best out there, but I really loved this book. His tips are invaluable. If you intend on going somewhere with your writing, I would strongly suggest picking it up.

I dunno if I'd trust anything written by Stephen King. Unfortunately I've never liked his writing (sorry to those who do). I think my writing's good, but grammar needs to be tightened (I've been reading English Grammar for Dummies, which is invaluable), so I'm slowly working my way towards that particular goal.

But thank you for the thought! n_n

[L'Oiseau Noir]

The room was dark and rusted; black rivulets of liquid seeped from the walls, devouring the very fabric of the twisted world around him.

That's for you, Humane! =) I changed it.

Sorry if this appeared as a sarcastic answer--it wasn't, really. I just wanted to see if you liked the way that sounded better than the one before.