Aspie Writers Guild.

[Wolfsage]

Just a thread for posting stories and writing ideas. Between authors and would be Writers. Ideas welcome. Just remember share what you don't mind others reading. Now let's hear some good stories before the full moon rises. And the cook starts drinking Averak again. Wolves are welcome provided they have already eaten. All other animals and patrons ignore the red stains on our wood floor. Our painter nicked his finger after a wolf sat on his easel. The red is just paint. That he dribbled while chasing him. Thank you. Looking forward to your stories.

 

[Misery]

The idea of writing something (or trying to) has been bouncing around in my mind for quite awhile now.

I've never REALLY tried it though. I did do a very short horror story that I just randomly posted somewhere on this forum, heck if I know where it was.

Currently ideas I have are typically SCP entries as I'm quite into that lately. The trouble is coming up with ideas that are actually good. And then properly fitting them into that framework. It aint easy.

 

[Aspychata]

l would like to write a story about a president who morphs into a clown, and slowly drives the people bonkers.

 

[Misery]

l would like to write a story about a president who morphs into a clown, and slowly drives the people bonkers.

I already have to listen to pretty much non-stop ranting about THAT one all the bloody time.

I think that story has been done to death, let's try basically anything else.

 

[Aspychata]

I already have to listen to pretty much non-stop ranting about THAT one all the bloody time.

I think that story has been done to death, let's try basically anything else.

Okay, point taken. lol

 

[Misery]

Ah, I found the crappy short horror-ish thing I wrote about a year ago, in a "short story" thread someone started here.

With a few small revisions:

.........

Shutting the door to my apartment, I breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a tough day... time to relax, finally, in my fortress of solitude. Putting my coat on the hanger, I headed into my little office to stretch out in my crappy little swivel-chair. Watch some funny videos online. That sort of thing. Sat down, turned on the machine. A bit of frustration as I waited for the electronic dinosaur to finally boot up, but I can be patient sometimes. At least I dont have to deal with my boss ranting at me when I'm here. This place isnt much... but at least it's mine.

The lights in the apartment flickered for a moment. I could hear the air conditioner choke, and the computer flashed as well. Ugh. I swear, this place... stuff just seems to go wrong alot. This is the fourth time this week that it's happened... the power thing, I mean. God only knows what's wrong with it. Maybe I should ask the landlord tomorrow. Well, it didnt stop the computer from booting, so that's good. I waited for a moment to see if it'd happen again, but nope. All clear. Sitting back, I opened up Youtube and started browsing. I'm finding it hard to concentrate on any of the videos though... mind feels foggy. Clouded up. I can probably blame that slavedriver of an employer, putting me through 3 rough shifts in a row. Regardless, it's definitely a bit hard to think right now, but I keep browsing anyway.

A clicking, padding noise coming towards me, and then a light pressure against my leg as the dog rests his head on it. Without looking, I reach down and stoke the dog's furry head. The lights flickered again, this time accompanied by an ominous buzzing sound. Really? Is it going to keep doing that? I'll have to sort this out with the landlord later, definitely. Cant have this going on.

A minute passes by, and the power nearly goes out AGAIN. This time it was enough to knock the computer out. As if I hadnt had enough stress today! Still patting the dog, I reach across the desk to hit the power button, get the horrid thing going again. As I wait for the machine to boot up, the lights still flickering slightly, I realize that the dog is pressing his head against me harder. It's starting to really hurt, actually. And his fur feels... slick. Downright slimy.

At that moment, as I raise my hand to see it covered with a tar-like substance, the mental fog suddenly lifts, clarity flowing in to replace it, followed by pure terror as I realized something else:

I dont have a dog.

The lights went out. This time, they didnt come back.


...........


So yeah, that's that. Kinda crap but I dont think I exactly put much effort into it. But it's something at least.

 

[Aspychata]

It has a Stephen King feeling. Can you turn it into a threadbare velvet chair?

My short short spin.

My alarm clock rang? I think it rang. l heard the clanging of the ward doors. Hope that creepy doc thinks I'm out from yesterday's experiment. I still feel those wired clips electrocuding my nasal cavity, and Doc Nuts is talking into a mini recorder of mutating covid terrorists who will ride buses, board planes, go to sporting events and spread the super covid mutant bug .......Ouch, my head is ringing, l am coughing blood. Please let me survive one more day.

Of course l thought of something totally inappropriate. That's life on the spectrum. Take real life and dissect it.

 

[Wolfsage]

The idea of writing something (or trying to) has been bouncing around in my mind for quite awhile now.

I've never REALLY tried it though. I did do a very short horror story that I just randomly posted somewhere on this forum, heck if I know where it was.

Currently ideas I have are typically SCP entries as I'm quite into that lately. The trouble is coming up with ideas that are actually good. And then properly fitting them into that framework. It aint easy.

That's why my computer is full of half finished stories. Deciding which one to continue writing on and will actually make a good story is part of the process. I usually pick the one that's the most fun and I have ideas to continue the story with.
FYI. I would write a horror story. But, you might not like that wolf very much.

 

[Aspychata]

That's why my computer is full of half finished stories. Deciding which one to continue writing on and will actually make a good story is part of the process. I usually pick the one that's the most fun and I have ideas to continue the story with.
FYI. I would write a horror story. But, you might not like that wolf very much.

lay it on! inspire us!! We all feed on each other's twists and spins, and it stirs our creativity cauldrons.

 

[Wolfsage]

Alright then. This is for you Misery and Aspychata.
It's cold. So very cold. Even in darkness I can feel it creeping up my spine. The floor beneath is freezing. It's stone flows with ice cold water. But, that feeling does not compare to the one creeping up my spine. The darkness swirls breifly. A light only seen for an instant then it's gone. The chill reaches my heart. It's beating slows at the touch of the cold. The darkness swirls again. Another instant of light. I feel threw the stone. Hints of movement echoes threw the cold stone. "It is getting closer." My mind echoes with the words. The cold moves into my head. The creature looms above me. A face in the darkness. Two glowing red eyes and a smiling mouth filled with red teeth opens. But, it is the inhuman scream of delight that finally breaks my sanity. Even as I run threw darkness. That scream follows me along with a slithering sound. I run faster. My body freezing until I'm Frozen in place. Unable to run any more. The creature screams it's victory as burning red eyes stare into mine.

 

[_eri_bellehumeur]

I'm nervous about this as I don't let people read my things but I actually like the flow of this one so far. This is the beginning of a story I am writing- nothing eventful yet but I hope you enjoy the setting and style of writing! BTW, I love criticisms so long as its constructive so if you feel I can work on something don't hesitate to say so . Also the MC's name is very likely going to be changed.

It was a chilly night in late September when Namahine first heard it, carried through the trees by a wind that brought the rich scent of rotting apples and crisp, decaying leaves. At first, she mistook it for a fox cry in the distance, but there was something distinctly unique about it. Namahine had heard foxes her whole life; she had lived with her grandmother in the old house away from the city lights and noises since she was a young girl, so she was accustomed to all of the strange sounds that came along with living in the country. This sound was not a fox. It had the same wild, primal scream, but had a tone that was more…human. Namahine closed her book, and drew herself up from the floor, taking care to avoid the lit candles, whose flames swayed with her movement so they might meet the delicate, flammable lace of her skirts. Approaching the open window, she took notice of the thin waxing crescent rising steadily in the sky, tinted with a faint red hue. On a night like this when she was barely a teenager, her grandmother had warned her about these moons, that they fortold of unrest in the spirit world. Namahine found them quite beautiful though, and delighted in its strange light. Turning her gaze to the earth, she scanned the large garden in front of the house, and the low oak and sage brushes stretching for a few kilometers away from the property for any sign of life. The light from the candles had drawn the attention of some moths, who flitted and searched desperately for a tear in the screen. There was no sign of the source of the cry, but she hadn’t really expected to see it. The sage and oak wood was fairly low, no more than 15 feet high at its greatest height, but it was dense. There were old animal trails going through it, but most of them were overgrown now, the place all but abandoned except for the ravens, rabbits, and occasional deer. In the distance, near the center of the wood was a patch of open land. She had never noticed it before, and only noticed it now in the dark because of the faint pale green light that seems to cover the earth and highlight its extent. It must have been a fox, she told herself, but knew that it was a lie. She made up her mind to travel to the clearing in the morning. Collecting her books from their haphazard pile on the floor, Namahine retreated to the opposite corner of the attic where her bed waited, the sheets and dressings messy and inviting.

 

[Wolfsage]

I'm nerbous about this as I don't let people read my things but I actually like the flow of this one so far. This is the beginning of a story I am writing- nothing eventful yet but I hope you enjoy the setting and style of writing! BTW, I love criticisms so long as its constructive so if you feel I can work on something don't hesitate to say so . Also the MC's name is very likely going to be changed.

It was a chilly night in late September when Namahine first heard it, carried through the trees by a wind that brought the rich scent of rotting apples and crisp, decaying leaves. At first, she mistook it for a fox cry in the distance, but there was something distinctly unique about it. Namahine had heard foxes her whole life; she had lived with her grandmother in the old house away from the city lights and noises since she was a young girl, so she was accustomed to all of the strange sounds that came along with living in the country. This sound was not a fox. It had the same wild, primal scream, but had a tone that was more…human. Namahine closed her book, and drew herself up from the floor, taking care to avoid the lit candles, whose flames swayed with her movement so they might meet the delicate, flammable lace of her skirts. Approaching the open window, she took notice of the thin waxing crescent rising steadily in the sky, tinted with a faint red hue. On a night like this when she was barely a teenager, her grandmother had warned her about these moons, that they fortold of unrest in the spirit world. Namahine found them quite beautiful though, and delighted in its strange light. Turning her gaze to the earth, she scanned the large garden in front of the house, and the low oak and sage brushes stretching for a few kilometers away from the property for any sign of life. The light from the candles had drawn the attention of some moths, who flitted and searched desperately for a tear in the screen. There was no sign of the source of the cry, but she hadn’t really expected to see it. The sage and oak wood was fairly low, no more than 15 feet high at its greatest height, but it was dense. There were old animal trails going through it, but most of them were overgrown now, the place all but abandoned except for the ravens, rabbits, and occasional deer. In the distance, near the center of the wood was a patch of open land. She had never noticed it before, and only noticed it now in the dark because of the faint pale green light that seems to cover the earth and highlight its extent. It must have been a fox, she told herself, but knew that it was a lie. She made up her mind to travel to the clearing in the morning. Collecting her books from their haphazard pile on the floor, Namahine retreated to the opposite corner of the attic where her bed waited, the sheets and dressings messy and inviting.

Well done. The flow is good and your description s are on point. I do agree with you about the character name. It kinda breaks the flow. Aside from that I see the makings of a good book.

 

[_eri_bellehumeur]

Well done. The flow is good and your description s are on point. I do agree with you about the character name. It kinda breaks the flow. Aside from that I see the makings of a good book.

Thank you!

 

[Markness]

Something I wrote earlier in the year but it’s unfinished and I am not sure how to proceed with it. I may have to start all over. This isn’t my first attempt at writing something, though.

Nighter

Sondo was on a walk at Pepper Creek Trail, a walking area near the edge of Tempbell. He had crossed over the parking lot that was still being constructed, feet dragging slightly from exertion, and traversed the dirt road that led to a work shed in front of the dam next to the walkway that would lead back to where he left his car earlier. A large brontopod was grazing close by the work shed and lifted its head towards Sondo as he approached the walkway. It let out a gurgling sound at him before lowering its head back down. Sondo shrugged and continued onward, passing another looming tree and over a bridge, a young shrillbeak taking notice of him as he fished in the water below with his serrated bill before Sondo made it back to his car. When he sat down on the plush seat, his body ached and he had to rest for a moment. He reached into his satchel and took out a bottle of Gist. He sprayed some into the car itself as well as on his arms and inhaled the lemon grass scent. It calmed his nerves and relaxed his muscles. Distorted stringed instruments and pulsing electronic drums along with synths and programming thrummed from his car stereo into his elven-looking ears as he started the car. A therap girl, her large eyes yellow-green in color, passed by the vehicle with her leashed dog. Sondo thought she was attractive but wished he didn’t have social anxiety as he backed up and left the parking lot. His body ached slightly from exertion and he felt the urge to doze off but a quick triple pronged finger tap to his head snapped him out of it. As he was about to turn onto the street heading back towards the city, he saw that the night was approaching sooner and sooner behind the hospital building that stood close to the park. He exhaled, wiggled his ears, and hit the gas at a steady speed.

As he drove closer to the market place, the sky was now a dark blue with stars appearing in it. The streetlights were in full bloom like UFO lights and creatures of all sorts connived along the remaining green spaces, having gotten used to the presences of both humans and humanoids. Sondo drove behind another hospital building, the road curving towards the metal fences that stood atop the concrete rise behind the marketplace.

The marketplace reflected the movies of this era. A lot of them took place at night and streetlights were the common source of light, cars passed constantly and had music blazing from their windows, and crazy incidents were always erupting among the citizens. A large meganops (giant face) was causing a traffic obstruction in the middle area of the main parking lot and proclaiming himself to be “Daddy” to everyone around him. Serrated teeth the size of most human and humanoid hands were arranged in a unsettling smile below glowing orange eyes. He pointed at his “chosen” with a clawed finger that could easily rip through a human and humanoid’s torso if they weren’t significantly strong enough to resist the pressure. But when the police showed up, he quickly bounded away into the air, knocking some people off their feet and pushing some cars back. Sondo felt the force of the bound but he was a good distance from the spectacle. He parked away from the chaos and got out of his car before stepping up on the sidewalk. Even at night, there were waves of heat and the smell of gasoline mixed in. After walking a good distance around, he ascended up a stairwell.

Graffiti art and interesting signs lead the way up the steps into a hallway. A cat trotted along the middle of the hall, meowing at Sondo as it passed him. Around the third door on the left were windows showing that there was a shop called Giffen’s in this place. A human dressed like a clank head walked out of the place with an clear orange bag of items and looked in Sondo’s direction. “What was that loud sound earlier?” he asked him. Around his neck were plush cubes with symbols linked by bendable wires that could glow if gently pushed. Sondo swallowed and replied, “It was a meganops calling himself “Daddy.” while blocking traffic. He jumped away when the police showed up.” “Hmmmm, weird.” “You don’t see much of them in the cities but they are showing up more. This “Daddy” figure, though, sounds like bad news.” The human nodded at that and followed the cat down the stairs. Sondo shrugged his shoulders and walked into Giffen’s. Electronica music greeted him as well as the smell of vanilla vapor coming from a nearby ionizer. It was a relief from the gasoline smell permeating outside. On a rack close to the checkout counter were more of those “neck cubes” but Sondo had no interest in wearing them. They were probably a fad item that would quickly become seen as novelties and end up in the bargain bins. The cashier, a blue-skinned therap, looked up from her magazine towards Sondo. He noticed that her nametag read UPMA. Interesting name, he thought to himself. She had a tired look on her face and let out an exhale. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Oh, I guess so,” Sondo replied. “What music am I hearing in here? It sounds good.” Upma’s mouth formed a slight smile at hearing that. “It’s the new CD from Orbital. You never heard of them before?” Music was usually Sondo’s strong point but he was slipping lately. “Oh, I am a fan of them but I didn’t know they had a new album. I like a lot of bands and can only keep up with them so much.” Upma nodded at that while placing her magazine down and slipped in a bookmark in it before she closed it. “Here,” she reached under the counter and pulled out a jewel case of the Orbial album. “This is our last copy.”
Sondo took out his wallet and paid for the CD.

 

[Gerontius]

Something I wrote earlier in the year but it’s unfinished and I am not sure how to proceed with it. I may have to start all over. This isn’t my first attempt at writing something, though.

Nighter

Sondo was on a walk at Pepper Creek Trail, a walking area near the edge of Tempbell. He had crossed over the parking lot that was still being constructed, feet dragging slightly from exertion, and traversed the dirt road that led to a work shed in front of the dam next to the walkway that would lead back to where he left his car earlier. A large brontopod was grazing close by the work shed and lifted its head towards Sondo as he approached the walkway. It let out a gurgling sound at him before lowering its head back down. Sondo shrugged and continued onward, passing another looming tree and over a bridge, a young shrillbeak taking notice of him as he fished in the water below with his serrated bill before Sondo made it back to his car. When he sat down on the plush seat, his body ached and he had to rest for a moment. He reached into his satchel and took out a bottle of Gist. He sprayed some into the car itself as well as on his arms and inhaled the lemon grass scent. It calmed his nerves and relaxed his muscles. Distorted stringed instruments and pulsing electronic drums along with synths and programming thrummed from his car stereo into his elven-looking ears as he started the car. A therap girl, her large eyes yellow-green in color, passed by the vehicle with her leashed dog. Sondo thought she was attractive but wished he didn’t have social anxiety as he backed up and left the parking lot. His body ached slightly from exertion and he felt the urge to doze off but a quick triple pronged finger tap to his head snapped him out of it. As he was about to turn onto the street heading back towards the city, he saw that the night was approaching sooner and sooner behind the hospital building that stood close to the park. He exhaled, wiggled his ears, and hit the gas at a steady speed.

As he drove closer to the market place, the sky was now a dark blue with stars appearing in it. The streetlights were in full bloom like UFO lights and creatures of all sorts connived along the remaining green spaces, having gotten used to the presences of both humans and humanoids. Sondo drove behind another hospital building, the road curving towards the metal fences that stood atop the concrete rise behind the marketplace.

The marketplace reflected the movies of this era. A lot of them took place at night and streetlights were the common source of light, cars passed constantly and had music blazing from their windows, and crazy incidents were always erupting among the citizens. A large meganops (giant face) was causing a traffic obstruction in the middle area of the main parking lot and proclaiming himself to be “Daddy” to everyone around him. Serrated teeth the size of most human and humanoid hands were arranged in a unsettling smile below glowing orange eyes. He pointed at his “chosen” with a clawed finger that could easily rip through a human and humanoid’s torso if they weren’t significantly strong enough to resist the pressure. But when the police showed up, he quickly bounded away into the air, knocking some people off their feet and pushing some cars back. Sondo felt the force of the bound but he was a good distance from the spectacle. He parked away from the chaos and got out of his car before stepping up on the sidewalk. Even at night, there were waves of heat and the smell of gasoline mixed in. After walking a good distance around, he ascended up a stairwell.

Graffiti art and interesting signs lead the way up the steps into a hallway. A cat trotted along the middle of the hall, meowing at Sondo as it passed him. Around the third door on the left were windows showing that there was a shop called Giffen’s in this place. A human dressed like a clank head walked out of the place with an clear orange bag of items and looked in Sondo’s direction. “What was that loud sound earlier?” he asked him. Around his neck were plush cubes with symbols linked by bendable wires that could glow if gently pushed. Sondo swallowed and replied, “It was a meganops calling himself “Daddy.” while blocking traffic. He jumped away when the police showed up.” “Hmmmm, weird.” “You don’t see much of them in the cities but they are showing up more. This “Daddy” figure, though, sounds like bad news.” The human nodded at that and followed the cat down the stairs. Sondo shrugged his shoulders and walked into Giffen’s. Electronica music greeted him as well as the smell of vanilla vapor coming from a nearby ionizer. It was a relief from the gasoline smell permeating outside. On a rack close to the checkout counter were more of those “neck cubes” but Sondo had no interest in wearing them. They were probably a fad item that would quickly become seen as novelties and end up in the bargain bins. The cashier, a blue-skinned therap, looked up from her magazine towards Sondo. He noticed that her nametag read UPMA. Interesting name, he thought to himself. She had a tired look on her face and let out an exhale. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Oh, I guess so,” Sondo replied. “What music am I hearing in here? It sounds good.” Upma’s mouth formed a slight smile at hearing that. “It’s the new CD from Orbital. You never heard of them before?” Music was usually Sondo’s strong point but he was slipping lately. “Oh, I am a fan of them but I didn’t know they had a new album. I like a lot of bands and can only keep up with them so much.” Upma nodded at that while placing her magazine down and slipped in a bookmark in it before she closed it. “Here,” she reached under the counter and pulled out a jewel case of the Orbial album. “This is our last copy.”
Sondo took out his wallet and paid for the CD.

Damn! You pulled off a combination of science fiction and classic noir. This just -- OK, I'm gonna be blunt, the grammar could stand a quick tuneup perhaps by reading aloud and making a couple alterations, but you manage a Sam Spade vibe here that would make the rest of the story eminently readable.

Wonderful stuff.

 

[DuckRabbit]

A great thread. Does anyone on this forum belong to a writers' forum that they could recommend?

 

[Owliet]

I’ve been trying to write a historical fiction piece for a few months now but to be honest, I think I’m more afraid of starting it. I’ve done a lot of research. I really don’t have much excuse but I haven’t solidly written anything for a few years now...not since writing fanfics.

 

[Wolfsage]

I’ve been trying to write a historical fiction piece for a few months now but to be honest, I think I’m more afraid of starting it. I’ve done a lot of research. I really don’t have much excuse but I haven’t solidly written anything for a few years now...not since writing fanfics.

Music helps. Recommend Audiomachine.

 

[Skittlebisquit]

Ah, I found the crappy short horror-ish thing I wrote about a year ago, in a "short story" thread someone started here.

With a few small revisions:

.........

Shutting the door to my apartment, I breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a tough day... time to relax, finally, in my fortress of solitude. Putting my coat on the hanger, I headed into my little office to stretch out in my crappy little swivel-chair. Watch some funny videos online. That sort of thing. Sat down, turned on the machine. A bit of frustration as I waited for the electronic dinosaur to finally boot up, but I can be patient sometimes. At least I dont have to deal with my boss ranting at me when I'm here. This place isnt much... but at least it's mine.

The lights in the apartment flickered for a moment. I could hear the air conditioner choke, and the computer flashed as well. Ugh. I swear, this place... stuff just seems to go wrong alot. This is the fourth time this week that it's happened... the power thing, I mean. God only knows what's wrong with it. Maybe I should ask the landlord tomorrow. Well, it didnt stop the computer from booting, so that's good. I waited for a moment to see if it'd happen again, but nope. All clear. Sitting back, I opened up Youtube and started browsing. I'm finding it hard to concentrate on any of the videos though... mind feels foggy. Clouded up. I can probably blame that slavedriver of an employer, putting me through 3 rough shifts in a row. Regardless, it's definitely a bit hard to think right now, but I keep browsing anyway.

A clicking, padding noise coming towards me, and then a light pressure against my leg as the dog rests his head on it. Without looking, I reach down and stoke the dog's furry head. The lights flickered again, this time accompanied by an ominous buzzing sound. Really? Is it going to keep doing that? I'll have to sort this out with the landlord later, definitely. Cant have this going on.

A minute passes by, and the power nearly goes out AGAIN. This time it was enough to knock the computer out. As if I hadnt had enough stress today! Still patting the dog, I reach across the desk to hit the power button, get the horrid thing going again. As I wait for the machine to boot up, the lights still flickering slightly, I realize that the dog is pressing his head against me harder. It's starting to really hurt, actually. And his fur feels... slick. Downright slimy.

At that moment, as I raise my hand to see it covered with a tar-like substance, the mental fog suddenly lifts, clarity flowing in to replace it, followed by pure terror as I realized something else:

I dont have a dog.

The lights went out. This time, they didnt come back.


...........


So yeah, that's that. Kinda crap but I dont think I exactly put much effort into it. But it's something at least.

Yummi

 

[Wolfsage]

I'm being carried on the back of a friend. He's taking me home because I am tired. So very tired. This friend is trustworthy he cares for me. Knows good and wise things to say. It is he who found me. So weak and tired. Sad and sick. He wrapped me in a blanket and placed me on his back. I doze lightly as he carries me. Speaking good things about my home ahead and family. That soon I will be with them and my sickness will be healed. I am tired and he knows. That's why he carries me. He will take me home and I will rest among friends and family. There I can sleep and heal. My friend is kind he lets me sleep. And finally I am at peace. Because I am going home on the back of a friend who carries me there.