Ever wrote a short story or a comic-book?
I have, but yet to publish them.
shareYes, a long time ago I wrote 2 books, one titled "Judgement Day" and the other was "Jinny"
they were good but I quickly learned that I wasn't a writer, no matter how hard I tried I just couldn't
put on paper what was in my head.
I've always wanted to write a beautiful story. But I realized it takes talent to write. When I was a student, I often had to ask nursing essay help https://www.nursingpaper.com/ only so I could write literate papers. But I still want to write a story.
shareYes, my "Goddess" is over on the Scarlett Johansson page.
https://moviechat.org/nm0424060/Scarlett-Johansson/5ab99ab1c7e3330014dc2803/Goddess
read a couple of chapters, nice work, I'm impressed,
my biggest problem was trying to extend the story, I would get to 40 - 50 pages and then blank!!
I'm on chapter 10
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I know just how you feel, Sammy, it's when you realize that the good writers have talent.
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you got a point Sammy, I saw 50 shades of grey and said I liked "Jinny" better, I know it's inside of us, just need the right can opener to get it out.
I know we have talent, but it's tough to release it, like culburn said, let's take a look at it,
Put something you've partially done and let us take a look at it, Sammy.
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Hot damn, Sammy, that's excellent work, my good man. Just outstanding. Easily visualized, like being there in that cold, black alley. Did not see the facts coming, not one damn bit. I pushed back in my computer chair, just a measure!
Stand proud, Sammy! If I didn't believe it, I would not say it. You done good, fellow.
I'll be damned! Made my nite, Sammy. Been dragging a little tonite, no reason really, but, this, this is the goods. I loved it, Sammy! Good for you, guy.
SammyJackson providing a late Monday night Direct Hit. You got it!!!
[spoiler]See, I can't end a life like that.[/spoiler] That you can, in such a stark manner is a gift, Sammy. A gd gift.
ADDENDUM: Me? He'd save her, fall in love with each other & live happily ever after. lol!
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Well deserved, Sammy. It is superb.
shareMany, and I've finished 3 screenplays. One partially written novel from years ago, and I'm starting a novel.
shareI've written a lot of short stories. Most are 5 minute stories for Story Slam in my city, and one of the film "Shorts" festival we have. Trying my hand at longer stories now with the goal of a novel. Lack of confidence is not helping though.
shareLack of confidence...the bane of every writer.
When I was about 9 years old, I wrote a short story about genetically mutated monkeys that escape from a zoo and wreak havoc in the city of Melbourne, Australia (because I'm Australian). It was awfully written due to my age, but it was definitely not a story written for children. There was a scene where monkeys break into a house and kill two lovers having sex in the shower!
I still have the scrapbook it was written in lying around somewhere. Now that you've reminded me of it, I'm going to go look for it.
...looking forward to it, Watt.
shareI have it here right now...
Melbourne was quiet. The signs were wet. Winter was coming.
Ivan Jackiston got out of bed. "Fuck, it's cold cold today," he said to himself.
He had breakfast and woke his son Kenny up. They went to the Melbourne zoo and looked at some monkeys. Kenny loved monkeys. The man who owned the zoo was Steven Harrison.
When it was a school day, an evil man sneaked into the zoo and tried to poison the monkeys and kill them, but instead it made them crazy and they bit him an he turned into one.
They attacked the town and a school bus. They smashed the windows and attacked the kids.
A man was killed on the road. He lost his arms and legs.
The monkeys killed the bus driver. They smashed every window on the bus. They broke the steering wheel. They broke into houses and killed two people that were having sex in the shower.
Ivan didn't know what was going on. "Fuck off, you fucking monkeys!"
He got into the bathroom and got out the window. The whole town was trashed. There were dead bodies on the road. "Oh my god," Ivan said.
Ivan got into his car and found the bus and saved Kenny,
"Are you okay, Kenny?" asked Ivan.
"Yes, I'm fine," said Kenny.
Suddenly a monkey banged the window. The car went spinning out and crashed into a tree.
"Quick, get out of the car," yelled Ivan.
They ran over to a cop car and a dead police girl fell out. They got into the car and drove off.
Ivan ran into the monkeys and they splattered on the windscreen.
"Hahaha!" said Ivan. "Come and get me you mean animals."
They got home just in time and they quickly slammed the door. A monkey got it's hand caught so Ivan sawed it off.
"Why are these monkeys doing this?" asked Kenny.
"I don't know, son," said Ivan.
Suddenly there was a bang up in the attic. Ivan went up to see what it was. He opened the door and a monkey came out.
"Oh shit!"
Ivan killed the monkey.
Ivan got a knife.
"What are you doing?" asked Kenny.
(Won't let me make this post any longer. Stand by for more...)
"I'm gonna cut it open," said Ivan. So he did.
There was something brown in the guts.
Ivan looked at Kenny and, "It's been poisoned."
Suddenly the monkeys smashed through the windows.
"Quickly Kenny," yelled Ivan. "Get into my room."
They got into the room and locked the door.
Somehow there was blood coming from Kenny's hand. He had been bitten.
"What's wrong with your hand?" asked Ivan.
"I think I've been bitten," said Kenny.
"Oh shivers! There's the first aid in my cupboard."
Ivan got the first aid and put it on Kenny's hand. Kenny started to grow hair on his face. He was turning into a monkey. Kenny started to go crazy and tried to bite Ivan on the shoulder. Ivan got out his shotgun and popped Kenny's head. Blood went everywhere.
Ivan sat on his bed and screamed, "Noooooooo!!!"
The monkeys were scratching, biting and chewing the door. They really wanted to get in. Suddenly a monkey put it's arm through the door.
Ivan smashed the window, got outside and into the cop car. He drove away as fast as he could. Heaps and heaps of monkeys of monkeys tried to smash the windows and kill Ivan. Suddenly the car landed on the train-track. A train came and Ivan ran out of the car. The train had dead people on it. When it hit the car the whole train blew up. Thousands of monkeys got killed. Just then, more jumped out of nowhere.
Ivan ran away as fast as he could but he fell over and sprained his ankle and a monkey jumped on top of him and bit his thumb off. Just then, there was a flash and Ivan drifted off into a dream where he and Kenny were playing cricket in the back yard when the monkeys came in and killed them, then he woke up in someone's car. There was a lady driving it.
"What's your name?" Ivan asked.
"My name is Louise," she said, "I heard on the news that monkeys were attacking Melbourne."
(This never made it into the story but basically the reason Ivan didn't turn into a monkey was because he was given a counteractive drug).
"What's your name?" asked Louise.
...
Great story, Watt. The originality is fascinating. And again, like Sammy's story so easily visualized and brought to life in the mind. I can see it with no problem whatsoever.
It's got a sweet beat to it, bang, bang, bang..., drew me right in and kept me there all along the line. Like a horror taking place right before one's eyes. It works & it works splendidly, Watt.
Outstanding work, Watt. So damn enjoyable.
I am really impressed with you both. I love reading these stories made out of whole cloth, no pretension. It's grand, guys!
"Ivan Jackiston" he said.
Suddenly a monkey jumped onto the back window and smashed it. The car drove into a farm and the monkey bit Louise on the neck and she turned into a monkey.
Ivan ran for his life and went into a house. He turned around and there was a dead body. Ivan began to scream. He went and got a spade and opened the door and killed Louise. He got into her car and drove away. There was a machine gun in the back seat. He got it out and started shooting them all.
Ivan got to someone's house and hid in the cupboard. Monkeys were in the house looking for him. They looked in every room but they couldn't find him anywhere.
Ivan got out of the cupboard slowly. The monkeys came out and Ivan went into a bedroom.
The monkeys tried to get in but Ivan got a board and covered the door. Suddenly the door fell over.
Ivan got out of the house, drove over to the city and saw a whole heap of people still alive. He drove over to them and stopped the car. The monkeys came and one bit a guy on the neck and ripped his throat out. Blood splattered all over the place. A lady went over and shot the monkey then it turned back into a person just like in the movie, An American Werewolf in London, (You read that correctly, I actually wrote that XD!)
They carried his body away from the monkeys.
"Shit, he's dead," said a person.
Behind the car, there were thousands of monkeys. The people got out machine guns and started shooting bullets up in the air. It scared the monkeys away. A lady went over to Ivan. He was bruised and scratched.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"No, I'm tired," Ivan replied.
"What have you been through?"
"What the hell do you think?" said Ivan.
"My name's Beth Harrison," she said.
"I'm Ivan Jackiston."
They talked for a few hours, waiting for the monkeys to come. Finally, they came but it was no use. There was too many of them. A man and a woman got eaten all the way down to the bone and little bits of flesh. Soon it was just Beth and Ivan left. (nearly there...)
They were about to die when a helicopter came.
"Hey! Hey!!!" they both yelled.
It stopped and picked them. The man who was flying it hired someone to blow up half of Melbourne and kill the monkeys. Ivan was so tired he went to sleep in about 2 minutes.
The helicopter was taking Ivan and Beth somewhere safe, where they could survive.
While Ivan was asleep he had a flashback dream of when Kenny died, then he woke up in Sydney.
THE END.
I have. I’ve written short stories. When I was teaching myself multimedia design, long ago, I wrote and made an interactive comic book, titled Gym Rats, because the gym is an integral part of my life. More important for this conversation, though, is the fact that I supported myself as a freelance writer for over 20 years, publishing nonfiction articles in national magazines, feature stories, humor pieces and columns in newspapers, and books.
I have some advice, if you’re interested. I’ve seen the phrase “lack of confidence” a few times in this conversation. I’ve also seen the word “failure.”
Anthony Robbins, the life coach and motivational speaker, is a man whom I admire. One of his lessons is: “Whether you tell yourself that you can do something, or whether you tell yourself that you can’t—YOU’RE RIGHT. If you tell yourself that you can’t, you cut yourself off from the possibility of doing it. If you tell yourself that you can, you open yourself up to being able to. If you don’t know how, find someone who does, and model them.”
Another lesson is: “Very successful people know there is no such thing as failure; there is only a result. If you internalize a result as ‘failure,’ it weakens you. If you’re not getting the result you want, keep changing your approach until you do.”
If you want to be published, or have your script put into production, you must have an agent, and you must create a book proposal or film treatment. Publishers and studios will NEVER EVER deal directly with an unestablished author. They will NOT read the manuscript or script that took years of your life. They do not want to be vulnerable to a lawsuit accusing them of stealing your intellectual property, and they are not going to waste their time teaching you the realities of their industry.
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A book proposal or film treatment shows the publisher or studio how interesting your story is, without having to wade through a lot of pages. They will want to make changes, add their own ideas. They may even want to tailor your script to suit a certain Big Star, and then your agent can get you a Producer credit as well. It is is not about Art or Talent, kids. This is about making money. History alone will decide Art and Talent. My first day of freshman English at college, the most respected professor in the department stood before the class and said, “Gentlemen, the man who writes and doesn’t get paid for it is a fool.” Young R_Kane instantly raised his hand and said, “But, Dr. Murphy, is that truly fair? For example, Edgar Allen Poe died penniless.”
Dr. Murphy smiled, and said, “If you’re not getting paid, you’re not reaching an audience. If you’re not reaching an an audience, what’s the point of writing?”
Today, you can have your own blog and go it your own; but you are not backed by big business who has a powerful incentive to get you an audience and an income, which is what happens when you are published, produced. Who has the bigger audience, fame and income, Perez Hilton or J. K. Rowling?
I recommend two books: How to Write a Book Proposal (I am sure there is a similar book for writing a film proposal) and How to Find a Literary Agent, many of whom
also work in film and TV. Agents have different areas of expertise: fiction, self-help, cookbooks, and so on. The book tells you what the agent’s strengths are. Find
one or more in your field, and reach out. It would be GREAT if you already had your proposal or treatment complete. It will move things along faster. It will also show the agent that you are serious. By the way: no professional agent will ask you for a fee. S/he will take a percentage of your income. If a publisher wants your book, s/he will give you a cash advance against your royalties, giving you money on which to live till the book is complete. Meet your deadline! Come in AHEAD of deadline! Good luck.