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Author: Subject: JulNo has started. First paragraphs, please.
Vchan
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 02:28 AM


Quote: Originally posted by -Julie-Marie-  
"Running. The boy was sick of running. He didn’t want to do it anymore, but he couldn’t stop. If he stopped, it was all over. He’d been one step ahead of this bounty hunter for the past three months, but now he was starting to think that maybe he never was ahead. Maybe he’d been playing into their hands this whole time."

no idea what's going on yet, xD guess I'll have to keep writing to find out. This is gonna be a wild ride~!


By the way...I really like your's <3




Challenges
NaNo 09::50008::win::The Somebodies
NaNo 10::50752::win::The Somebodies 2
NaNo 11::50065::win::Nameless Rain
EdMo 10::14hrs 16 mins::fail::The Somebodies
Frenzy 10::55 pgs::fail::Nameless Rain
JulNo 10::21000+::fail::Moonlight Chats
JulNo 11:: fail::Somewhere Near Wonderland
JulNo 12::Nameless Rain

Fictionpress

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thepillsburydoughgirl
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 02:39 AM


When you think about it, it’s quite remarkable how we go through life, day after day, assuming that the strangers around you aren’t murderers.



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lavendrin
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 02:54 AM


Just to clarify: My novel is written through the character's blog posts. Here is the first line and paragraph :P


Yeah! My first entry bitch.

So, I decided since my upcoming independence is nearing, I'm going to share myself more of myself to the world. No, not to people who actually know me, DUH, to people to don't know me at all on the all-powerful World Wide Web. And in case this becomes famous or something, which I kind of doubt and secretly pray won't happen because it will probably be embarassing, my real name is not Hope. It was this or JuicyFruit. So that is that.
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kidchameleon
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 03:03 AM


It's kind of long..

-
The sun was gently rising over the horizon, dawn breaking in the sleepy town of Middle Island, New York. A small cottage stood at the southern edge of Artist Lake, built for three, but only housing one permanently, and two currently. On the second floor was a modest bedroom, facing North, with quite the view of the vast, notable lake. The walls were painted a calm blue; the floor was unfinished wood, like the rest of the house, with a black shag carpet that seemed to fit the bedroom nicely. In the corner, a desk was pushed up against the wall, cluttered with various art paraphernalia and utensils, and an half-finished painting lay propped up against one leg of it on the floor. The cream coloured curtains fluttered as a gentle gust of wind entered through the open window, dissipating the stale scent of drying paint that still lingered in the air from the night before. A boy of about seventeen lay tucked beneath the intricately patterned quilt on a bed that faced the window, with one leg hanging carelessly over the side, exposed to the world. He rolled over onto his back, muttering in his sleep as he pulled his leg back under the covers, relishing the new found warmth that the heavy blanket his grandparents had given him provided. A moment later, there was a loud splash.

-

Meh. It'll have to do..




A story to me means a plot where there is some surprise. Because that is how life is - full of surprises.
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Savara
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 03:22 AM


'The Palace' was a name ill-suited to the building it represented; as a former guildhall it had been built in a strategic position in the city of Kayga, but it had fallen in disrepair after the markets had taken on their current format. It was simply not prestigious enough to serve its new purpose. Walls had been painted and carpets had been spread out, but the cold interior still didn't make anyone feel welcome here.
"At least the main doors seem fit to impress most visitors." Brynne mused.

---

It's actually the first paragraph of chapter 2 - I wrote the prologue and chapter 1 before July started.

[Edited on 7-1-2010 by Savara]
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Reizna
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 03:26 AM


"'Time is a strange thing. It flows like a river, only one way. There's not really a way to go back unless you were really meant to go back.'" She softly spoke, reading the last line of the page. She hadn't done her literature reading and would be behind if she hadn't picked up the book. Well, she would not have even taken a look at the reading if Hector hadn't badgered her upon waking up. It was nice to know he still cared about their academics even after a passionate night. Jan smacked her friend on the shoulder with the open book before pulling her bedsheets over her semi-clothed body.

---

I liked the first line I wrote. Everything else was a lame filler. >_<
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 03:39 AM


Oli pime ja tormine öö. Külm tuul vilistas läbilőikavalt, ajades rőivad laperdama ja lőigates ihust läbi kui noaga. Kőrged mustavad lained peksid rahutult sinna-tänna, őőtsutades meie laeva kord oma harjadel ja siis jälle mattes selle enda alla.

---
If anyone understands a word that's written up there, then that genius can has million giant virtual cookies. Wait a minute, am I allowed to write in Estonian at the first place? Beep.

[Edited on 1-7-2010 by Werewolf Took]




"No. But I saw a polar bear on the roller blades with a mango."
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"Quit if you want to, because if you don't love your story then you can't write it."
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"Do what you love with people you love."
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NaNo09: Radioaktiivsed kotkad (Radioactive Eagles) - Epic Fail: 2011 words
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suasoria
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 05:27 AM



The sun beat down on the backs of two hundred some-odd inmates at the High North federal penitentiary and the guards stood by, prepared for the worst but with little motivation to actually do anything about it, while they enjoyed their government mandated hour of outdoor exercise. The men were separated, not by force, but by the color of their jumpsuits. In the vast expanse of concrete surrounded by high, barbed-wire fences, half of them were dressed in orange, the other half in green, indicating their status within the prison. The men covered in orange disliked those dressed in green and the feelings were reciprocated.


Blahh. I just wanted to move on.




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a.nicolefindley
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 07:42 AM


A monolouge my my FMC:

"Well this sucks.

You wanna know why this sucks?

I’ll just assume you said yes.

I’m hog-tied on some ****** undertaker on my way to a high security prison in Sector 5 A Gamma. 5 A Gamma? Who names these things? They could be a little more creative. Like … well, nevermind."




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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 08:08 AM


Diary,

She has left me the man with the lazy eye! You understand, my dearest friend, the one most in my confidence, that this type of superficial attention to appearance means little to me, but how may I love a husband who cannot focus both eyes on my face at the same time? To have one constantly gazing away seems to me to have one forever giving half-attentions and half-loves. Furthermore, he did just attempt to court my sister and acts as if I am blind to the act! My eyes both focus on one thing at a time, and see more than he may think I do. It seems that I am, once again, regulated to the second string.


Nothing like melodramatic Victorian debutantes in the morning!





09: Trip- 50,055
10: Empty Brocade - 63,660
12: The Reanimation Code - FAIL
13: Only Illusion - 77,050
14: Finishing Novels - TBD

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If we fry our brains, we'll just take yours.
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Scarlett Fire
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 08:35 AM


From my as yet untitled JulNo:

Rebecca snuck around the side of the building, hoping she wouldn't get caught by Security again. Why was she doing this? It was all for a stupid, little dare. A dare her best friend, Jade, had made. Rebecca had to met one of the boys and come back with proof-preferably a certain item of clothing...

[Edited on 1-7-2010 by Scarlett Fire]




Sweet to think on it, that when we are last weary of all this world there is the rising sun- Armand in The Vampire Armand.
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jsights
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 08:37 AM


Quote: Originally posted by thepillsburydoughgirl  
When you think about it, it’s quite remarkable how we go through life, day after day, assuming that the strangers around you aren’t murderers.


Ooohhhh, I like this! So true, and I never thought of that.

Today might be interesting now that I've read this, lol!




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jsights
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 08:40 AM


Quote: Originally posted by SlySionnach  

Nothing like melodramatic Victorian debutantes in the morning!


Love it! I'm a recently-turned sucker for all things Victorian!




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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 09:06 AM


Quote: Originally posted by thepillsburydoughgirl  
When you think about it, it’s quite remarkable how we go through life, day after day, assuming that the strangers around you aren’t murderers.


This is awesome!

Definitely piqued my curiosity... and encouraged me to regard the strangers I see today with A LITTLE MORE SUSPICION.
:P


[Edited on 7-1-2010 by Beccaa2406]





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mellifluouscipher
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 09:16 AM


Quote: Originally posted by jsights  
Honestly what do you guys think of this one? If you tell me it sucks I won't be hurt, promise. :)

“Oh my word, you must be Vittorio Santini. I could never mistake you, but you’re even more handsome in person than you are on TV and in magazines.” A tall, slender black woman with straight hair and perfectly done, if a little heavy, makeup walked toward us. She wore a black pencil skirt and red silk blouse, trying to blend in with the Gothic crowd at The Chapel, but failing miserably.


It's a little wordy and a pain to read. Try a little less of description and add the description in slowly in your chapter. When novelists explain how 1 character looks all at once, i tend to be turned off. If J.K. Rowling had described how Albus Dumbledore looked, felt, and talked in one page - I'd prolly never read the book.

Let readers have pieces of your characters to begin seeing what your characters look like. When I read most of the stories on Wattpad.com, I get irritated - because the novels all have the same concept. Character 1 - is described to the T in the first two or three paragraphs. He/She is perfect. They save the world in 4 chapters. The end. You know what I mean?

Please disagree with me. I'm a novice writer too - just my opinion. ----------->


You must be Vittorio Santini. And even more handsome in person than on TV and in magazines.” A tall, slender black woman with straight hair walked toward us. Her attitude and carriage of her body was wrong for the Gothic crowd. Anyone in The Chapel would know that she was a poser, especially since her make up was a bit overdone. She looked like an amateur mime. (Or however you want her to look.)

"Ahem, my name is (Gothic4Life!...or whatever her name is.) I'm here to partake in this evening's event," she said with more enthusiasm than needed. Her silky red blouse burned bright like fire and her black pencil skirt clung to her legs, instead of being loose like The Chapel members would be. Most would agree that she was, indeed, a beautiful specimen, but Vittorio saw nothing in her elegance.

@jsights :D Tell me if my version sucks too




"Making mistakes is the privilege of the active. It is always the mediocre people who are negative, who spend their time proving that they were not wrong." - Ingval Kamprad (Ikea Founder)
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mellifluouscipher
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 09:17 AM


Quote: Originally posted by Beccaa2406  
Quote: Originally posted by thepillsburydoughgirl  
When you think about it, it’s quite remarkable how we go through life, day after day, assuming that the strangers around you aren’t murderers.


This is awesome!

Definitely piqued my curiosity... and encouraged me to regard the strangers I see today with A LITTLE MORE SUSPICION.
:P


[Edited on 7-1-2010 by Beccaa2406]


:rapid nod nod: Hell yes. I need to read this story!




"Making mistakes is the privilege of the active. It is always the mediocre people who are negative, who spend their time proving that they were not wrong." - Ingval Kamprad (Ikea Founder)
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syaffolee
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 10:39 AM


Mine's very short and probably doesn't make much sense without the next two or three paragraphs:

The old gypsy woman lay face down on the fortune telling table. She was not breathing.




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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 11:48 AM


TL;DR (:
It's not the start start, but it's a start.


The scene inside the bar was one of squalor and decadence. Men, beastly and sweating, inhaled the fumes of other men. When they exhaled with their own acrid flavours they added to the mess of musty scents in the atmosphere.
There were all types here tonight.



[Edited on 1-7-2010 by awed]




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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 12:03 PM


Oh boy, I finally get to do this:

Rain thudded and trickled down the glass windows of King Eadbert's office. It was considered an office, but the way the King put it to use, it is more appropriately a den, to hide from Councils and the court. It was a very sad room. The shelves were dusty, the desk almost untouched. Maps hung from the wall which seemed to be the most of what they did. They were so outdated they could be considered history. King Eadbert himself resided in his notorious armchair, facing the window. That chair is where he ruled the kingdom. By that chair he ordered others to do his work.




"If you eliminate the impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." ~ SPOCKSPOCKSPOCKSPOCKSPOCK!
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 12:20 PM


Well, the first paragraph of the prologue is kind of boring, but it's:

“Bekah, come help with dinner!” A quiet groan met this request. Every night she had to help with dinner, and every night she hated it. Regardless, Rebekah trudged into the kitchen where her mother was making what looked to be some sort of casserole.


However, the first paragraph of the first chapter is:

She could feel the stares of everyone they passed. She couldn’t blame them though. They must have been a sight to behold. Twelve people all dressed to match each other walking in two lines through the crowded airport. The younger kids were all staring around at the unfamiliar stores and pointing at everything. Her parents had warned them about the stares that would likely happen. At home they rarely went out except to go to church. There were not many others at their church that prescribed to her parents’ traditionalist, patriarchal lifestyle, but people had gotten used to them. Here however her parents had warned them that they would have to deal with people staring and possibly even whispering about them. They were counter-cultural with their strong Christian values and would have to set a good example, or so her parents had said. Even so the stares were distracting.




JulNo'10 - The Courtship of Rebekah Allen
Click Here to see the cover art for my JulNo. Thanks to cheyenne.r.trumbo

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Burning Skulls
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 12:26 PM


Not that great yet, but I'll post anyway.

Water dripped slightly in the background of the barely illuminated cave. Light only shone from a small fire – all black – that burned the few logs resting on a stone tablet in the center of the area. Five dark colored creatures stood towards the inside of the cave. The fire almost reflected in their skin, which represented black chainmail up until their talon-like hands. These five creatures, the Black Threads, stood across from three more; these three were colored white.
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bobito4andahalf
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 12:27 PM


The Phelps Twin's End of School Party. The social event of the year, and I was wearing the same one-out-of-five rotation of slutty dresses I worse every day. This one was white, just barely below my underwear line, with nearly invisible tank-top-like straps, a long v-neck that showed too much and was mostly see-through. I looked pretty good, if I do say so myself. I had long blonde hair and soft brown eyes. I was a stick, too, and that didn't hurt anything. Top it off with my tan body from Spring Break at the Florida Keys, and you've got a pretty hot girl.


((Haha. Why am I posting this for everyone to read? This is terribly embaressing.))




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Word Count for Nano08 (Life of Death): 30,789
Word Count for Nano09 (Detained For Truth): 25,0056/50,000
Word Count for JulNo10 (The ARt of Possession): 0/155,000



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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 12:38 PM


Oh heck, why not? I might as well bite too :P

"Anna Kovago had a chunk of glass in her side that she didn't doubt would kill her. But it wasn't the first thing she noticed when she came back to the land of the living, a place that was hazy and disorientating from the bump on her head and the heavy smoke that filtered through the air. The patrol car's siren was still wailing, a loud and abrasive banshee cry that made her cover her ears and clamp her eyes shut in an automatic response. There were other sounds beneath it, but what they were she couldn't quite say. Maybe screaming, maybe gunshots; all she knew was that they weren't normal and somewhere along the line, something had gone drastically wrong."

I must admit that this isn't the story I planned on writing, but so far I can't help but like it, hehe.
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jscholl91
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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 12:47 PM


The army was restless. Horses neighed and whinnied, their handlers, the High Kings guard, had a hard time keeping the beasts in check. The foot soldiers gripped sword handles and spears hard, turning their weary knuckles white.




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[*] posted on 7-1-2010 at 12:50 PM


It's pretty long, and I warn you-it contains slightly graphic sexual, homosexual content:

I tried to keep the disgust from filtering onto my face as I watched the man’s head move up and down. I made all the right noises, made the right expressions; pleasure was usually such an easy emotion to masquerade. But the contempt for this pathetic, sick man was hard to disguise. I yanked on his hair to draw his mouth from me, after all it was far easier to fake a climax when the guy wasn’t prepared to swallow everything, only to discover there was nothing there to swallow. He stared up at me with lust filled, empty eyes, his features appearing to me as bloated and inhuman. Slightly ironic. How easy it was to dissect him in my mind into an alien creature. I did it with all the humans I seduced.




This above all — to thine own self be true;
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
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