Grandma Rose's Story: OneOral TraditionGrandma Rose's Story: One4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes
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She told this story one day while she did beadwork and a few of her grandchildren played nearby. She remembered her own grandmother, the one who raised her as a little girl. She talked about a time many years ago, the last time she saw her grandmother.
"My grandmother lived on a place where she had a barn and grain holders and chickens and horses. She used to let me help her take care of the chickens. The horses roamed out to pasture, coming in sometimes for hay she always had ready for them. She and I lived there together. My older cousin, a young man then, stayed with us from time to time.
"My grandmother had adopted my mother a long time ago, see, and then when my mother died, just thirty-four years old, my grandmother took me to live with her. My sisters and brother went to my other grandmother but my grandmother wanted me with her. I was just a little girl then, not even old en
Rehab for Roleplayers - IntroWelcome to Rehab for Roleplayers, a series of articles aimed at helping roleplayers more successfully make the transition into writing fiction.Rehab for Roleplayers - Intro4 years ago in Articles & Interviews
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Introduction: How to Spot a Drow Illusionist
I can identify a habitual roleplayer from fifty paces. Those who've been spooked by my asking whether they're a roleplayer within ten seconds of reading their fiction will know what I'm talking about.
"But how did you know?" they gasp. When I'm done chuckling, I explain that I know they are a roleplayer, because they write like a roleplayer.
There's usually a pause, then, while the writer decides to what degree they're going to feel offended by this statement, and/or wonders whether I've been stalking them, before they pose the next question: "What, exactly, do you mean by that?"
What I mean is this: roleplayers almost invariably share the same basic writing habits, and some of these habits stand out as flaws in their non-RP material.
Many people develop their interest in writing
I went to a funeral todayI was at a funeral today. I was there as a friend of the family. I didn't personally know the deceased well, I've met him, but didn't know him. When his son came up and read the eulogy, I began to think. What he wrote was very cheesy, think basic funeral writing; focused very heavily on his honesty, humility, and good memories. There were a few funny things here and there, but what I was really interested in was the way he read it. He read it like a highschooler reading any old speech, aside from the crying, of course. What I realized though is it's not the speech that matters really at all, it's when he begins to stutter, and he can barely read because his mouth is too busy blubbering, that you can really see how he feels.I went to a funeral today3 years ago in Emotional
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I started to think about the things I would write if my brother or father passed. Something similarly between the two that I would write would be that we are all very much alike, as little as we'd each like to admit that. Especially my brother.
My dad is quirky, he'
DepressionI've heard so many people tell those who suffer depression to just 'cheer up.' I wonder if they can really believe that it's that simple.Depression8 years ago in Academic Essays
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Depression isn't just sadness. It is emptiness, it is misery. It is pain and nothingness at once. When you are truly depressed you lack the ability or will to cheer yourself up. No one just 'has depression.' You suffer from it. This is depression:
You will wake at 5, 6, maybe 7am, feeling as though you had only just fallen asleep. It's likely you did. If you don't have to be somewhere, you could lie in bed for another 3 hours...too tired, too miserable and pathetic to crawl out of you bed. Or maybe you will sleep until 1pm, because it's so much easier to sleep through most of the day than actually live it, and you're so unbelievably tired anyway. You will push through the day, knowing that every hour will be a struggle and not knowing how you will feel tomorrow. People will ask what is wrong, and you will simply smile and say 'nothing, I'm just tired