Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

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At 9/7/13 02:45 AM, supergandhi64 wrote: you mean anti-hentai right

--supergandhi64

The club came about because of another club, the Anti-Hentai Club. Kinda a "We're doing this in spite" kinda thing.

Yeah, i know. It sounds like perv-central 101 (although i don't think anyone who posts on forums has right to judge), but we're talking about an Anti-Anti Hentai Club.

Double negative.

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So, long, long LONG time ago (2005), i was a member of this group.

Don't know what happened to them. But i felt that this would be a good place to start.

The Anti-Anti-Hentai Club. I need info.

From, like, the members i DON'T have on facebook.

Anyone who could POSSIBLY still be on here, i'd like to hear from ya.

Otherwise, keep watch'n them YOUTUBE videos of cats. I hear the Catpocolypse starts if you say "Old Long Jon" in front of a mirror three times.

-Wolf-Raven

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Hail comrades. I have pulled myself out of the net to slip a ruffee into this forum. This forum likes to think rape's okay, so i drugged it, kicked it in the asshole and filmed it all. When it wakes, i convinced it that it was raped, and only after they were i a puddle of emotions, do i show them what really happened. Now this forum has a whole new respect for rape victims.

I hate November. If it wasn't for some birthdays, and other things, this month would be intolerable. Writing completely dries up. However, this year IS better than most. i have a few articles i've saved to scrap writing with this month on them, so it can't all be bad.

I'm trying a new thing. A little while ago, i bought a hardcover notebook, which is essentially pleather covered. I've decided to go the old way of writing books and just scribble down a story from start to finish and only afterwards do i put it on the computer.

Didn't do Navowrimo, but considering how that went from 20 to 0 in a few days last year, added onto the large burden of finals, time isn't exactly on my side. Maybe after i graduate.

Also, last night i smoked a pipe and philosophized. i was on top of the world right there.

Anyway, how goes your works in progress, people?

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Huh...that's actually quite helpful...thanks.

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At 9/25/10 08:10 PM, ReginaldDunstable wrote:
I find that I can only write spontaneously. I have days when I write around 4 pages non stop, without having to stop to think, and days where I have to delete half of what I just wrote because it's not very good.

But if that seriously motivates you, then go ahead. It's not weird or anything.

Listen man, I know that you may think that pieces of your writing may induce vomiting, but don't delete anything. That was one of the big things i learned during my writing. You may use it later. If you don't, no love lost. But you can look back on what you kept and make it better. I've done it quite a lot, and it works out nicely.

Give it a shot. I guarantee it'll help.

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At 9/24/10 12:52 PM, X1SephX wrote:

Whats your imagination more active on, as in like which story is it more likely to expand on ? You get me?

Aye, i get ya.

I found the weirdest motivation. I picked up a copy of the Sims 3 last week, and i made it full of my characters. Now, on a whim, i actually made myself with the life goal of being an "Illustrius Author", and basically buy property with my roommates' money AND live off royalties i get from writing books.

The weirdness comes in when i get my sim self to start writing. I don't know what it is, but i suddenly get jealous. I usually write 1 page a day, and scribble a few things down, etc. But for whatever reason, I've written 6 pages, all of them spawned because i couldn't stand to see my Sim self write successfully, while i just sat and played him.

I'm using this shit out of this tactic.

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At 9/22/10 03:52 PM, Brenden86 wrote: Hey all, I'm Andy J. , Parttime musician and free-time writer.
I'm 14 though my creativity roams everywhere =P. I've written alot of stuff but I can't find it to post here.
I'm working on a Music album (Digitally, I can't pay a real album =3) and it's almost done, just sayin.
I'm an RPer which explains my creativity...Mostly on WoW, making some stories for characters and so.
Inventing new custom "classes" or "races" or a new slice of Lore for the lore whores *cough*
I'll post stuff through time, And...That is all, I think! Respect to all Newgrounders, Andy J.

14? This is the time to start making those universes and to expand your writing. It'll pay off when you're 20, trust me.

Music is Music. You should post some stuff when you do get it done. Unless you want to sell it, then in that case make sure you want people to spend money on it.

Now, nothing wrong with Role Playing, at all. But i feel that WoW, and certainly Warcraft 3 as well, has butchered fantasy like Star Wars butchered Science Fiction. And I, for one, want both genres to be taken seriously, like how Starship Troopers, a science fiction novel before Star Wars, is still used as required reading for the US military.

Now onto something more personal, I'm starting to get depressed with my writing, because it recently crossed my mind that although i have been writing a page a day for the past year, i still haven't finished anything. Given, the saga that i have been writing is very big, in depth, etc. But i have a few little novellas that i still want to finish. Any advice you can give? Maybe a change of scenery? Maybe go without internet for a little while?

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I have to work to make sure my scripts don't become novels.

Because they nearly always do.

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Actually, if i were in your shoes, i'd expand this. Create some dialogue with the boss to get a feel for the character. If the incident of failing to save the bird is important, don't let it all come out at once. I try to use a method when i write: Small things, very small character perks, little stories, side notes, etc are revealed through a paragraph of dialogue, just to keep the reader informed and not to bog them down too much in Dialogue. For instance, one person in my book doesn't like to dance. Bamb, that's a paragraph. Bigger, more life changing stuff, stuff that is very important to the development of the character and the story, that's deep and meaningful, is dropped hints throughout the story. Small bits would be a sentence of dialogue, a single sentence leaning towards what happened, etc.

But that's just me. You're your own author. Go to town.

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At 9/21/10 06:34 PM, gumOnShoe wrote: Eeek! Every time I sit down to work on my anthology piece, I start brainstorming about a novel that's been looming in the back of my mind. I am a man of too many projects.

In other news, why does time go by so fast. It was only yesterday I graduated college, or at least it feels that way. Time, the writer's worst enemy.

I hate that, when your brain is awash with ideas but they don't pertain to what you actually want to write. I've been working on my saga all my life, but as soon as i try to branch out, i just come crawling back. the only good part about it may be that i am putting so much work into this, and it'll be the most in-depth of all my work.

Time is a bitch too.

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At 9/19/10 10:42 PM, sinfulwolf wrote:

Welcome back, but please tell me your fear was a touch of sarcasm. I am actually quite horrible at detecting it online. A month and a half is not that bad without internet... and if it is, well that's one of my fear's about the latest generations. How will we form a resistance against Skynet if everyone throws themselves at the feet of the machines for another dose of precious precious internet.

Hah! don't worry. My Sarcasm is better than my French, which is bad.

I did a lot in that time, and what it did for my writing was invaluable. I just hope i can double my output by next year.

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At 9/17/10 03:21 AM, Kajenx wrote: Also, Deathcon, I agree with timebender, people aren't very creative, and everyone seems to start from exactly the same place. Creativity isn't about creating something from nothing, it's about combining what exists in new ways. That's why the best writers tend to be the most well read.

I couldn't agree more. Pure originality only existed with the first creative thoughts of our species. Even the best were influenced by someone else.

And it eats at me every day, but my stories seem to change as i grow. The Four-Earth series, which i have been writing since i was 12, shows how much i HAVE changed. It started off as swords and spears and wars and just really petty computer-game stuff. Now, it's morphed into a saga with history, culture, and philo-political overtones. Hell, even my characters, who used to be just names on a sheet, are now so much more to me. When you start to see some as real people, then you start feeling confident.

But, end of the day, you still suck: bottom line.

And it's good to suck a bit...

...and now my mind is thinking sick things...Damn porn...

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I...*gasp* *hack*...LIIIIIIVE!

If you are wondering where i went or who the fuck i am, i have been living without internet for a good MONTH AND A HALF.

I was terrified.

BUT, i did a HELL of a lot of writing while i was gone. I took all the scrap writing that i did over the course of the last year, added and edited it, and it came out to be 320 pages. I'm hoping to double that for the next year when i do it again!

So life is GOOD!

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[Unedited, inspired by an old game i used to play. I realize that if i saw a movie about the same subject, or actually saw it first hand, this story would still be punted out. I am inspired by a rock.]

Once upon a time, in the lands of Dianorieum, there was a man living on the island known as Spataea. He was a woodcutter of the humblest of origins. His grandfather cut wood, his mother cut wood, he cut wood, and when he has sons and daughters, they would cut wood too. Every morning, at the break of dawn, he would march outside and fell a tree. By mid-morning, he would get his great workhorse to haul the log back to the mill. The limbs would be cut by noon, and he would eat his lunch on a giant log. By the time the afternoon came, his log would be in planks, and he would be feasting on a fine dinner.

He had few friends, which was more due to his location rather than his character. He did have one friend in particular. He was a merchant, a good man from the Syndicate of Merchants, and every evening, he would come up with his cart and help the woodcutter load the wood to be sold in the cities. The merchant lived by night, and the woodcutter would always invite him to stay for supper, or as the Merchant would call it, breakfast. They would talk and laugh for hours, talking about everything and anything under the sun: the weather, the trees, buisness, politics, philosophy, gossip, anything. Then as the sun fell behind the mountains, the merchant would wave goodbye and venture back east, and the woodcutter would bunk down for the night and await the new day. A simple life, but a good one.

One day, the merchant came, but he was giddy with excitement. He insisted that they work quickly to load all the wood onto the cart. When they were inside, with a good supper of venison and potatoes, the merchant finally spilled.

"Do you know of the Islands to the west?" The merchant asked his friend

"No one really knows anything, except that they exist." the woodcutter said "Most people don't go out there unless they're exploring."

"Well, they found a chain of islands out there!" the merchant said "And the Syndicate made a claim!"

"Did they now?" The woodcutter smiled "So would you be exploiting these?"

"You know well we can't unless they are owned by a nation." The merchant said "But the Kingdom of Dianorieum just declared them colonies! and they want the Syndicate to administer them!"

"Interesting." the woodcutter said "Is this why you are so excited?"

"Oh, a few more coins in the pouch would not be too interesting, save for what it implies!" the merchant spread his arms wide and announced "I have been elected governor of one of the islands!"

The woodcutter laughed "Congratulations! But do you even know how?"

The merchant nodded "We'll build a city there, and start making, buying and selling! We'll create a city of culture and wealth!"

"We?" The woodcutter asked

"Oh!" The merchant nearly jumped from his skin with excitement "I was wondering, my dear friend, if you might help me!"

"These islands must have trees then, as i am not much use for much else."

"I disagree!" The merchant said "But i will need wood, as i must make the ship i need myself."

"I will cut the wood for you, my friend."

"But a settlement needs wood to buildhHouses and all that other stuff!" the giddy merchant replied "Would you come with me once the ship is done? Will you help me build my city?"

"Of course!" the woodcutter said "Anything you do, i shall support!"

"Then on the morrow, the wood you cut for me shall be used to build ships! If you would make a few tall masts as well, it would be most appreciated!"

"Them i shall make!"

"Excellent!" The merchant said "On the morrow then?"

"On the morrow."

TBC

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*Crawls from beneath his computer* I LIIIIVE!!!

I have been writing, but i've mostly been in the throws of Fallout 3, which is all right storyline wise, but fails to have the wit and tact the second one had.

Writing wise, faltering a bit, but it's gotten to the point that i have an entire year's worth of scrap writing on my computer at the moment. I'll make it tradition that every august i'll sift through it and tie it into stories.

Also, been trying to listen to music while i sleep to induce dreams. So far, only limited success, and nothing really of note. Maybe i should change what i'm listening to...

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At 7/14/10 01:14 PM, TrevorW wrote:

I have it saved to my laptop. Actually we have a guy interested in possibly making it into a flash. Do I have your permission to release it to a few artists?

Uh...HELL YES!!!

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Vladimir Nabokov. Interesting.

Hey Trev, what ever happened to that story we wrote?

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I just saw a preliminary announcement for Dragon Age 2.

...Bioware...don't do this to me ='(

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Oh totally, Music is the best way for me to get my creative juices going. I used to have a library with a week's worth of stuff in it, and i just re-discovered the CDs i burned it on a week ago, haven't been listening to my youtube much since, although certain stuff is on there that i wouldn't find elsewhere.

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Here's a link to a flash i loved when i first came to newgrounds.

• 
  Element trailer by gdd

  Click to view.

  Type

  Movie

  Rated

  Ages 17+

Now, i'd rather discuss this here with people who A) are intelligent, B) people who can write and C) people who know a thing or two about anything. Hence why it's not in the General section. I swear, some days they make Youtube look civil.

At any rate, this artist made this cartoon, and it was one of the few she made, and she never went through with actually making it into a series...

What ideas spawn from this?

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At 7/4/10 06:17 AM, RNNR wrote:

But this didn't happen right out of the blue, it took a while for the universe to come... alive, to become a vivid part of my imagination, my very personal playground.
Thing is, you want that. But with 50 characters or so spanning 3 different universes, I mean... dayumn son, that's a clusterfuck waiting to happen. How are you going to keep track of all that?

Can you keep track of 50 people in real life?

One universe has been mapped out since i was 7, and it has grown in complexity to the point where it almost is starting to seem like a real tangible place. Given, this universe spans 7 planets with their own distinct cultures, people, and names, but I've had a good 13 years to think about it. It's only recently that the bulk of the main characters, 30 of them, have to at least be like some kind of people, and i realized just recently, hence why i'm scared, that i knew very little about them as people. Then again, i only really started thinking about differences in people recently anyway.

The other 2 are really just history revamped. (One being what would have happened to the world if Attila the Hun never invaded and another is a telling of the Future that i like to call Apocalypse Politica).

The way i see it, after giving some thought, is that i ask myself a series of questions about the character. These questions i ask myself to know myself, and try to keep it as truthful as possible. Questions like, "On a scale of 1 to 10, how crazy are they?", "Do they give money to beggars or no?", and "What is the one thing that will anger or break them beyond reason?" To make it a good story, i say you give 50% of the story to your audience and 50% to yourself, so that they never know the character completely.

As for keeping track of 50 people, no, but i have kept track of 20ish. Thank god for my good looks and charm.

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At 7/3/10 11:50 PM, JerryAntares wrote: Here's one: don't muck yourself up in fifty characters.

Most works may have a fifth of that many main characters (which I'm assuming you mean because you want ALL of them to be these super-realistic people) and even then the characters can slip in their human traits.

If you try something like fifty characters, you'll end up like a hunter trying to tail twenty different targets at once: you're going to fuck up on all of them. Do a smaller amount of characters, and you'll end up doing them better.

Sorry, i wasn't clear...

This is 50 characters spanning 20 books and 3 different universes...but point taken, nonetheless.

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A really scary thought just occurred to me.

I want my stories to have depth, meaning, and grace. A rich language imbued with realistic dialogue, relevant theme, memorable characters, a riveting story and a subtle yet intelligent moral. I believe that a story rests much on the characters, not much more than your other attributes, but not, like, at all. And so this is where i scare myself.

I'm asking myself now: "Do i need to know 50 characters across three universes better than i know myself?"

It scares me because i want them to be realistic enough to relate to, yet story-like enough to still let the reader escape and be seat-glued for a while, and i want to strike that balance, or at least make them real enough (I'm sure i don't have to tell writers than 2D characters suck)

Thoughts?

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At 6/24/10 01:39 AM, TrevorW wrote: I would like to see something you wrote when you were truly inspired WB. Sometimes I feel like your work is all by the book and so... uninspired.

Woah ho! Let's not say anything we can't take back here!

Hello Anne! Gao Kao? I know a bit of Mandarin, so i'm guessing your family name means "Tall" (Also part of happy, "Gaoxing"). Of course, it could not be Mandarin and then i'm at a loss.

I can understand that WB. I'm sure it'll take a bit of practice, but what you said really got me thinking last night (i had a "too do" list of issues i needed to deal with mentally anyway). I came to realize that the only time i, personally, am truly uninspired is only when i have a writer's block. Otherwise, i'm always thinking, and the greatest sin of this is that i write none of it down. Perhaps this is just a factor of laziness, but as i said and you reiterated: a true passionate moment of writing is better than a slew of uninspired ones.

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At 6/23/10 10:07 PM, WritersBlock wrote:

I completely disagree. Inspiration has its moments, certainly, you could call it out as a natural intuition, but really, a writer should be able to tune into that intuition frequently enough. You can do writing exercises, you can prepare yourself, you can control your writing intuition and direct it towards issues and topics you would like to address. Sure, you're not always going to be able to come up with something, but with enough practice, you should be able to achieve a level of consistency that you should be able to maintain over a long period of time.

Maybe, but i still feel that forcing yourself to be creative is just going to degrade your work. Despite building a consistency, you're still going to write your best work when you're inspired and motivated (like i am now, for some reason). I believe that to force natural talent (still in the air as to whether or not i have it) is just going to have you put out a lot of stuff that is sub-par, and unless you DO train yourself to be consistent, like you said, it's still going to come out as something your machined together instead of something that came from the soul.

But even if i'm wrong and there's a way to be creative orgasming all the time, my point still stands to writers who haven't mastered that technique: Going for months without writing does not make you lame. Better at this stage to let it come naturally than to force it out.

Given, WB, you have given me something to think about...

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At 6/23/10 04:59 AM, FBIpolux wrote: Man, haven't wrote anything in months.

I'm lame.

BULLSHIT!

Inspiration comes either on it's own, or at a heafty price. If you force creativity all the time instead of having massive bursts of wonderful creative orgasms, you WOULD be lame! Fuck what anyone else says, WHEN IT COMES, YOU'LL BE MOANING IN CREATIVE PLEASUREPAIN!

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The Metal Splicer?

Diamond Skin?

or if all else fails, Thunder Cunt?

Hey, i've seen that around quite a bit. It's not an uncommon baby name...

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So i just put out a story in the forums, and i've made a conclusion: Finishing a piece of work is like creatively giving birth. Obviously i have no reference point to draw from and I certainly never want to, but from what it's described as just this massive flush of emotions from you is almost tiring in a way.

Hrm, maybe birth is extreme, maybe more like a crap or an orgasm or something less painful. But crap kinda refers to it as you're brining bad writing and orgasm is more the passion of writing rather than actually finishing.

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At 6/22/10 10:35 PM, Frakenbourrough wrote: Interesting, it was a really good Dragon-Age fanfic. I would like to read a bit more. However, you repeated some words right after each other near the beginning which sounded wierd and put me off a bit. Also, the name Travadox was a bit stupid. I guess I shouldn't be talking though, my character was named Boonswagger.

Awe crap, Repeated words? It seems to be the one thing i'm bad at.

Well, it's all a matter of perspective name-wise. I mean, Yeah, if you say Boonswagger without any real gumption, then it's lack luster and lame. Then again, all writing is a matter of opinion anyway, but the repeated words are something i don't like and can do something about...

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"You're looking well." The Gray Warden said "I'm glad you're coming along nicely."

"Would i be any other way, Warden?" The witch said

The Warden, Travadox, laughed "I'm glad to see you too Morrigan."

The witch smiled, sitting beneath the tree "I'm sure you wish to stay, would you not?" Her voice had all the leisure it always possessed, yet a trickle of hope came from her voice.

"Not entirely." Travadox said "I've come to tell you certain things that you may not wish to hear."

Morrigan's heart leapt, fearing the worse.

"I don't know if you know this, but Alister has named me his advisor. But also, i possess the title of Warden Commander. Or at least i used to, but forsaken it to find you."

Now her heart brimmed to the man who would leave such a position for her.

"But Morrigan, i am leaving this world."

It was almost a disappointment to hear that. She already knew that to begin with.

"Well of course you will." She said with her usual wit "Everyone does."

"I mean this in a different context." Travadox said "Where i come from is a place where there are many things different than in this world. I came here seeking an escape from that world, but duty has called me back." Travadox sighed sitting beside his beloved, who was now slowly seeing what was happening here.

"I come from another world attached, in some respect, to yours. I am not of this world."

"Did you not have family here?" Morrigan asked "Weren't they killed?"

"The Couslands were my family in heart and name, but not by blood." Travadox explained "Though i have not lied to you: my actual parents died much the same way as my foster parents."

"Then...you aren't noble?" Morrigan remembered when she first met Travadox, right after the tower at Ostragar, and how he said he was noble born, able to be ransomed just as high as a king.

"That is true as well." Travadox said "I wish not to tell you too much, as it may destroy in your mind the person you know and love. Just know that i am who you fell for."

"First," Morrigan said, "I want answers. I'll respect your secrecy as to who you are, but there are still some things i want answered."

"That's fine." Travadox nodded

"Why have you come for me?"

"I suppose you have not heard what has happened with the Darkspawn."

"They haven't been a bother."

"They attacked again." Travadox explained "The Arl of Amaranthine was swarmed by darkspawn. Darkspawn that could talk...that...seemed almost...human."

There was a silence as a slight fear crept into Morrigan's heart.

"Ogrhen is dead, and after he died, i worried for you..." Travadox said "I wanted to see if you were safe."

"I wonder also, my dear..." Morrigan said "How old are you actually."

Travadox gave a number, and the number was truth; truth that shocked Morrigan

"How did you live that long?"

"There are ways other than to possess a younger body like our dear Flemeth." Travadox explained "I have owned this body for all those years."

"Impressive. And yet you still have all the...prowess...from your life."

"Well, with age comes experience." Travadox smiled, putting a loving hand on Morrigan's cheek "I also came here for a second reason."

"Yes?" the witch asked earnestly

"I would take you with me, but certainly this world is not ready for my kind." Travadox said, reaching into his pack "However, i am delivering these to those who roamed with us during the Blight. You are the last to receive them."

"The last?"

"Hardest to find, more like..." Travadox smiled, and gave her a folded missive. Written upon it were a list of minerals, not uncommon, and instructions most thorough indeed.

"Follow those instructions, and they will lead you to me." Travadox said, and moved to get up. Morrigan was quick with her hand, sliding it into his. The Warden looked down, smiled, went back down to the ground and kissed Morrigan deeply. The kiss grew until both were entwined passionately, like the days before the Archdaemon was slain.

And so Travadox stayed with her throughout the day and into the night, rounds of talking and lovemaking, knowing that this may be their last night together. Morrigan did not question him about who he really was, as in the moments together it mattered not. She fell asleep in his arms, content and warm and safe.

When she woke with the dawn, he was gone, a rose in the place of where he lay the night before.

~T.S.Millar