Poetry Self-Edit ChecklistPoetry Self-Edit Checklist4 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
Poetry Self-Edit Quick Start Guide and Checklist
The idea behind this is to give newer poets a way to better edit their poetry themselves, without having to rely as much on an external editor. It can be frustrating, especially for new poets to request feedback from a friend, or worse, to post a poem, and have all of the responses be about grammatical errors and other details. We write poetry to convey ideas and emotions, and when something is off technically about the poem it distracts the reader. When a reader is distracted enough to notice an error or other problem it means they might spend the time they might otherwise have spent glowing about your poem to post a comment correcting you instead.
After this introduction is over the checklist will be as brief as possible while retaining its utility. The idea is to serve as an organizational tool and a reminder rather than to educate on effective
The Squirrel's Flower Tut07:04:22 PM Grrreat, kiddies, are your UF open? Then we are going to start with the default mandelbrot and its corresponding Julias. Almost all of my fractals starts with the switch mode. Pretty basic, but oh, so many lovely possibilities.The Squirrel's Flower Tut4 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
07:06:40 PM I prefer to have a black/white gradient for the outside colouring and the inside colouring set to none in transfer function. If you've the default colouring, remove all the nodes in the gradient except from two of them and set them in black and white. It helps you to see the finer shapes in your fractal and the colours won't disturb you.
07:10:13 PM If you have your default mandy ready, then you can use the switch button.
07:16:40 PM Switch button is f7 and click on the mandy and there you'll find the julia
07:18:16 PM Kiddies, find your julia, after that we'll frolic in flowers!!!You find your Outside colour algorithm menu, choose Plug-in colour gradient, go into Colouring algorithm menu, choose Orbit Traps. Th
The Courier Eirik surveyed the impressive façade of the Temple of Myralo with concern, brow furrowed, fingers worrying the loose leather strap that kept his dagger in its sheath. It was certainly a pretty building. Everywhere he looked there was beauty to behold – from the intricately detailed vine-and-leaf patterns carved into the cloud-white exterior, to the elaborate mosaic of Prismeryl, Twin Deity of Beauty dominating the archway above the temple’s entrance.The Courier4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Hanging next to the ornately wrought gate into the temple’s courtyard was a “Help Wanted” sign. It, too, was beautiful, written in a light script by a steady hand, and assuring any applicants that the pay would be more than sufficient. Eirik didn’t doubt it. If there was one thing the Prismeryllian priests and priestesses were known for (and there were many things they were known for) it was being as free with their pocketbo
JarsMy childhood home, a gray, old farm house, sat nestled near the small town of McKean Pennsylvania. My father moved us there from Pittsburgh in 1954 when I was no taller than a limp potato sack. I was their only child at the time. He said the city was no place to raise a family. We needed room to run and explore and my mother needed a quiet place to work on her writing. However, in three years of living there she gave birth to four of my brothers. So much for peace and quiet. There must have been something in the water.Jars4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Folks in town liked to whisper about that house like it was some kind of architectural Jezebel. By the time I could spell my own name I had heard dozens of rumors and stories surrounding our home. There were certainly enough to keep my young mind racing through many sleepless nights. Some of the more elaborate stories suggest a mass murder of the previous occupants by their deranged
The Dalzell KnockoutThe Banana Bar wasn’t Conner Dalzell’s sort of place. I was behind it slicing lemons, wincing at acid burns, when he walked in alone in a buff duffel coat. The guy was at least fifty, maybe older, his hair turning white.The Dalzell Knockout3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Tonight was student night, all the cocktails were half price, and fresher girls were getting fresh with lecherous finalists in the faux-leather booths. Conner Dalzell stood in the doorway for half a minute and I thought he would leave. But he took off his coat and searched for a peg to hang it on. To his evident surprise, he didn't find one, so he flung it over his elbow and waddled to the bar.
“What would you recommend then?” he asked. My hands were sticky with lemon juice. I hastily wiped them on my apron.
“Our featured cocktail today is the Blue Lagoon Special: vodka, blue curacao, and white wine.”
“Sounds awful,” he said, slipping from the barstool he’d tried to mount. “What’s blue
What Makes A Good Editor?IntroductionWhat Makes A Good Editor?3 years ago in Reviews & Guides More Like This
A good editor has many qualities and a lot of responsibilities.
Editors are necessary. They're like a test run before something gets printed or posted online. The editor is the first person to read it, aside from the writer, and can fix the mistakes before it's shown to the public.
Think of it like a new car design. Before it goes on sale or is even made, the design is created for a specific reason. It's then tested for numerous things before being sold to the public.
Likewise, an editor needs to decide if what they're editing is worth the time. Is there a purpose to the piece? Does it benefit the public or audience? If so, it's then "tested" by various means (such as length, grammar and punctuation, accuracy and fairness, and ethics), and put up against the editor's personal qualities (like patience, time management, decision making, objectivity, accountability, etc.).
The following will detail these means and qualities to show what makes a good editor, specifi
How to start doin commissionsHow to start doin commissions8 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Edit: This tutorial covers aspects related only to your Deviantart gallery and Deviantart Journal. It has nothing to do with the Deviantart's newly implemented points commission system. You can take commissions without using that points system on Deviantart as long as you have paypal.
WHEN IS THE BEST TIME TO START
When you have enough watchers and people interested in your art.
When you have a closely-bounded community around your work/gallery
How many is enough I can't say for sure, because it depends on the community around you and your work. Some artists can live on one patron, others need to live on millions of them.
For DA, I would say typically around 20,000-40,000 pageviews, at least 40-50 watchers on your DA is best before you start considering taking commissions, (because out of that 40-50, you may have 1 person willing to pay, a safer bet is 100 people.) however, if your gallery has explosiv
it's all the small things, you know? The smaller boy couldn't let go of the taller man. "J-Joel how did you trick me into this?" the smaller one whined. "It was easy Skrills, you were drunk and I asked you if you wanted to go to Halloween horror nights, your reply was 'anyfing for youh joelb', so here we are!" Joel replied slightly teasing. Sonny clenched Joel's arm tighter as they neared the entrance of the "scariest Halloween event in the U.S.". "Don't worry Skrills, I'm here for you." Sonny kept a firm grip on Joel's arm, yet Joel somehow he managed to get it back. Joel paid for both their tickets then Sonny engraved himself into Joel's side once again, making Joel himself blush slightly. "Sonny you do notice they are going to scare you more since you are hiding," Joel laughed. Sonny just stayed as close as possible to the mau5 himself.it's all the small things, you know?4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
They began to walk through the first haunted house and sonny squeezed his eyes shut while holding onto Joel for dear life. So
History in a Nutshell...?Once upon a time, in an era far far away, there was a land called Germany. During the early 1900s, he wanted nothing more than to be a brilliant dancer. He trained during those long ten years, and was then recognized by the acclaimed dancer and musician named Austria. He was invited to join his dance troupe during the 1910s and they took over the whole world as much as they could. The only problem was that when the other dancers took wind of him, the troupe was easily defeated and disbanded for being poorly handled and trained.History in a Nutshell...?4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The 1920s were a grueling time for little Germany. While the other troupes profited from the victory money that they won, he was forced to train day and night, all trying to find his hidden talent. The only person that seemed to be supporting him was his older brother Prussia, who was giving him advice and suggesting things that could be his trademark skill.
And then he found it.
Recursos: Personajes100 preguntas que puedes hacerle a un personajeRecursos: Personajes5 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Las personas que escribimos, o los escritores, a menudo olvidamos desarrollar uno de los componentes más importantes en la narración, los personajes. Los personajes no son simplemente aquellos que van a sufrir nuestra historia, sino que son una parte fundamental de ella porqué sin ellos no existiría tal historia. Sin embargo, por falta de tiempo, imaginación o ganas, a menudo les relegamos a un segundo plano y no los desarrollamos lo suficiente como para que sus acciones en la historia estén realmente justificadas. Resumiendo: Utilizamos muchas veces a los personajes de una forma rápida, basándonos en su presente dentro de la historia y sin tener en cuenta que tuvieron un pasado y que posiblemente, a no ser que dentro de la historia mueran, tendrán un fututo y esos datos son importantes para nosotros a la hora de hablar de ellos con coherencia y de comprenderlos.
Nunca debemos olvidar qu
Filipino Food Delux?Lovino had no idea what was in front of him. He stared at the frozen treat in front of him, with purple and yellow ice cream on top of a whole bunch of ice and what looked like beans and chewy stuff on the bottom. He turned his head and saw that Charice was serving everyone else the same thing with a huge smile on her face.Filipino Food Delux?4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Eat up~! I made it with happiness~!" She chirped.
" Rizal." Lovino looked to the boy in front of him. "What the hell is this?"
"Halo-halo. It's a unique dessert in our culture." He answered. "Ube and cheese ice cream on top of shaved ice covered with condensed milk, and the bottom is the true essence of the dessert."
" what the fuck is ube?"
"I ain't eatin' this crap."
"I know you will." Rizal leaned forward.
"Ve~~~this tastes this really good, fratello!" Feliciano chirped, eating the dessert with that weird smile on his f
Thoughtful Transit FlowersEach minuscule silken petalThoughtful Transit Flowers9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of the orchids cried romance
unto each passenger's ears.
They were not for a particular occasion,
but simply to convey love.
I held them tight,
seated on the transit bus,
as if they were my children,
and I their compassionate mother.
White curls of age
and a soft maroon floral dress
held the elderly woman together.
She, seated adjacent to me,
and kneaded her wrinkled hands.
"For your girlfriend," she told me.
"What a lucky young lady."
Fleshy lips curled
into the gentlest smile
I could muster.
"For my boyfriend."
Those words seemed to pierce
the old-fashioned woman,
like an arrow,
and she nodded.
Slowly, the blood rushed
to her wrinkled cheeks,
and she seemed to have been pained
by this, or confused even;
yet she spoke again:
"What a lucky young man."
Character Creation TutorialCharacter Creation TutorialCharacter Creation Tutorial7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
How to effectively develop a realistic and likable character for novels and fanfiction.
Table of Contents:
I. A Name
II. Physical Attributes
III. Style & Personality
It can be assumed that developing a plot and storyline is self explanatory. If not, you can find another tutorial for that. This tutorial will focus primarily on the thought-process of creating new characters with depth.
I. A name is the first step. Try to match the character to their name, or somehow integrate the character's name into the storyline or progression of the character's maturity and personality. For example, a character who is dark and moody would probably not be named Star unless this contradiction holds some meaning in the story. (In a comedy it would have a nice effect, but in a drama or serious story, not so much).
If you can't think of a name you can go to places like babynames.com or google for assistance
carbon monoxideIt had been Javiers idea for the tattoos. "It'll keep you safe, Diego. No one will touch you." On the streets, no one had touched Diego to begin with. In order for Javier to earn the tattoo, he had to steal. When he stole the teenager's purse, she screamed and only chased him for half a block before giving up, but Javier didn't stop running. Back at his friend's apartment, when they opened the Coach bag and dumped out the contents, besides lipstick and a compact mirror, the wallet held cash and credit cards, a little iPod with the headphone cords wrapped around it and most of all, a digital camera. It had been a lucky find, and they'd sold everything but left the camera to Javier, who would use it to take pictures of his brother.carbon monoxide5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Diego agreed. He agreed because Javier scared him at the best of times. "If you don't get this, you'll die, Diego. Someone will get mad and put a bullet in your head," Javier emphasized this, formed his hand and fingers in the shape of a gun and pressed his fi
EnglandXReader- Just too shyEnglandXReader- Just too shy3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
As I sat there in English class, I stared at ______ a few rows away from me. She was my so called "best friend". I stared at her long, silky (h/c) hair, and wished she was mine. But she didn't notice me like that, and I knew it. After class, she walked up to me and asked me for the notes she had missed the day before and handed them to her. She said "Thanks Arthur, I owe you one." and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I wanted to tell her, I want her to know that I don't want to be just friends, I love her but I'm just too shy to tell her, and I don't know why.
The phone rang. On the other end, it was _____. She was in tears, mumbling on and on about how the French frog had broke her heart. She asked me to come over because she didn't want to be alone, so I did. As I sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft (e/c) eyes, wishing she was mine. After 2 hours, one Drew Barrymore movie, and three bags of chips, she decided to go to sleep. She looked at me, said "Tha
ConfessionLips met in clumsy haiku,Confession4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
against each other, pressed,
the way the earth touches the sky,
soft and whimsy as the dusk.
Tongues painted passion-
halcyon atmosphere, infused,
-upon every awaiting space offered.
Metaphors dotted the hallows of limbs and tasted like the seasons-
a bursting and vibrant spring,
a hot and passionate summer,
an adventurous and teasing autumn,
a cozy and comfortable winter,
-all at once.
Skin smelled like Frangipani, an offering-
blossoming with intensity as the sun draped itself in twilight's shawl,
-and felt like a brick wall crumbl
Fingernails, Please“Fingernails, please.”Fingernails, Please1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The girl smacked her gum, fussed with her hair a little, and turned her attention back to her phone. After a few seconds she glanced up again, clearly irritated: “Well?”
“Right. Um.” Thomas suppressed the urge to look at the fingernails she was currently wearing. “Color?”
“Green. Do you have something in a sort of limey chartreuse, maybe?”
“Uh, yeah, the list's over here –” But his customer had turned her full attention back to the phone, and was clearly ignoring him. Thomas cleared his throat. “Do you want lime, or chartreuse?”
“Uh... yeah, lime. Sure.”
Thomas winced. The long ones were always worst. “I'll be right back.”
He had 18 mm lime in stock, still in their larval stage, pale and wriggling under the blue light of the stasis chamber. He tried hard not to look at them too closely as he de
CrossroadsAuthor's note: This story is set in a world just sideways of our own, where the heroes of American legends are real. But then again, so are the villains.Crossroads3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I say," said the tall, black man with the perfect smile. "I say, come along over here and sit a spell. You look plum tuckered out." And he played a little arpeggio on his guitar, which he held like it was a woman he loved.
It was dusk then and the sky was fading from its cotton candy dream color into a deep lavender, dark and low on the horizon like a lady singing blues, and Ted Swanson the securities salesman was grateful to sit down. He took a seat beside that old black man, right in front of the diner, and he loosened his tie. It was a lot damn hotter down south than he'd expected, and a lot lonelier too.
"Where am I?" asked Ted Swanson.
"You in Mississippi, boy."
"Yeah, I know. What town I mean?"
"Not that it rightly matters but you at Route 8, Halfway Diner, next to the Plantation. Ain't got no town name, but that's where
Inferno's Touch -0-PrologueInferno's Touch -0-4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"You are putting yourself in danger."
A metal door screeched in strain as a slim-fingered hand pushed it open. Sunlight streamed through the fluffy white clouds as a human form stepped onto the roof. The young woman walked forward, remnants of snowy patches crunching beneath her grey and purple sneakers. Squinting at the light, she moved to a nearby ladder and clung to it. Chills raked her body, igniting where her skin met the frosty metal.
Arriving at the top of the small overhang, the woman kneeled at the edge; the undisturbed snow clung to her jeans. Crisp winter air nipped at her cheeks and fingertips, furthering the cold that plagued her. Her soft breaths became water particles in the air and her thin spring jacket did little to protect her from winter's remnants.
"Ann, you know what will happen if you continue."
Ann unfurled her fingers from the large bag she held in her left hand and set it on the cement platform. She unzipped it and pulled the contents ou
My Alien Girlfriend (Chapter 1)My Alien Girlfriend (Chapter 1)1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The rain pounded on my car as I drove up the highway to my college. The sky was cloudy and it was rather chilly. I wanted to get back to the campus soon, or it would be too dark to see where I was driving. It had been a good visit back at mom and dad’s, but they had wanted to visit too long and I’d let time get away from me. It was 9 in the evening…and my housemates would probably be up watching TV or something. I didn’t want them teasing me about returning from home so late…because they’d done that before.
The guys I lived with had long put their family life behind them and very rarely visited their families at home. They often picked on me about visiting my family during certain weekends like this one. Because it was the weekend, I had decided to drive home to visit my mom and dad for a while. Unlike the guys, I missed them and I don’t get to see them very often, especially ever since I started college. They were happy to see me of course,
Redwall- Coming Home Winter over Mossflower wood had been remarkably harsh. Everything was white and cold, frozen in its place until Spring. The tree branches leaned low, heavily laden with snow and ice. There was a constant flurry of snow falling at all times.Redwall- Coming Home3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The weather had trapped the creatures of Redwall Abbey inside the red sandstone structure. The only ones allowed out were the biggest and strongest of creatures, and even then only rarely.
Presently, one of those with such privileged rights was outside, charging through the deep snow on the Abbey walls, attempting to survey the landscape.
Deyna the otter was a tall, strong riverdog. He'd been born at the Abbey, but as a babe had been stolen and taken to the Juskarath clan. After fifteen long seasons he returned home to the Abbey, and to his mother and older sister. Still, he had some habits hanging over him
Anthro Pokemon:Robotic MindsThe Luxray hairdresser Eleanor had once normally been a friendly, outgoing woman. She would appear that way to most of her customers, as would her colleagues in the shop. Few of the customers would notice the subtle differences between Eleanor now, and Eleanor then. One of those customers was a Mighteyena named Ashley.Anthro Pokemon:Robotic Minds6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Hi Eleanor. Sorry I'm a little late for my appointment." Ashley said apologetically.She was here to get her hair washed and shampooed professionally.
"I understand. It is easy to lose track of the time." Eleanor replied.
"There's something different about you. Did you change hairstyle?"
"No, I did not."
Ashley looked over the Luxray. Her thoughts kept her looking at her eyes.
"Ah, you're wearing purple contacts! A new fashion?" Ashley said, before sitting down.
Eleanor processed the meaning of this phrase. It could be taken to mean conformity.
"In a technical sense." She replied, seeing that she had her chance. In her hands, she held a small but powerful device, a circu
the hanged manThis little red book you call the human body:the hanged man4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
take it up and shake it. Shake the flaking pages
out of it, shake it from endpaper to endpaper
until the last of the phrases are gone; shake it
until it's aching and empty, the soul of a bird.
I will give you new words.
how to tell me my scars are beautiful.leave roses with thorns on my stairwell, the kindhow to tell me my scars are beautiful.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
that would entice me when i was fourteen but now
serve as silent irritation—when we eat steak, use
your thinnest, sharpest knife to cleave the meat
into tiny squares and let me watch you wash it
and put it away when you’re done—open your
packages with your trusty pocket knife, peter
pan boy scout, and when i move in, let me
borrow it; don’t question the t-shirts i order
in winter and the sweatshirts i order during the
sweltering heat of summer—when i lay beside you
at night and talk about the state of the universe
that day, nibble on my ear, scratch my arm, slap
my rump until i giggle and push you away, finally
ready to fall into the quiet abyss of dark and sleep