The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing

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shy guy 64
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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by shy guy 64 » Tue Jan 04, 2022 5:23 pm

OrangeRKN wrote:I'll go through bouts of lots of writing followed by long periods of none at all, there isn't really much consistency!


That’s what I’m like with my drawing

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by shy guy 64 » Fri Mar 25, 2022 12:31 pm

its been one year since the release of my 2nd book. now if i can only get books 3 to 7 published

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by DarkRula » Fri Mar 25, 2022 3:42 pm

shy guy 64 wrote:its been one year since the release of my 2nd book. now if i can only get books 3 to 7 published

Good luck with that.

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by shy guy 64 » Fri Mar 25, 2022 5:32 pm

DarkRula wrote:
shy guy 64 wrote:its been one year since the release of my 2nd book. now if i can only get books 3 to 7 published

Good luck with that.


Thanks. I think

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by DarkRula » Fri Mar 25, 2022 6:12 pm

Meant it sincerely. It's always nice to see the success of others.

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by shy guy 64 » Fri Mar 25, 2022 7:30 pm

DarkRula wrote:Meant it sincerely. It's always nice to see the success of others.


it is. but success is a long way away

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by DarkRula » Fri Mar 25, 2022 7:37 pm

Getting published is a success in itself, to be fair.

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by shy guy 64 » Fri Mar 25, 2022 9:54 pm

DarkRula wrote:Getting published is a success in itself, to be fair.


perhaps

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by DarkRula » Thu Apr 07, 2022 4:36 pm

Today marks five years since I first started self-publishing my works, and the start of the Alternate Halesowen and Beyond series. I had to celebrate that in some way, so a new short has been added to The Alternate Extras of Halesowen on Wattpad. So, follow the link or open the box to read The Raven's Call.

Looking out of the window as the car drove through a town, Kimberly looked back on the week. It had been a great one, full of adventure around the Peak District. Then had come a visit to the Wild Shore Delamere water park – an outdoor adventure area set on a lake. It had been a single day of trying the various activities the park offered, then back on the road again.

She hadn’t been entirely truthful when telling the others about the extension to her holiday. The whole idea behind the holiday had been that it would be for her. It had been arranged as a celebration, but also to get her to where she needed to be. For she had accepted The Raven’s Call, and her parents were proud of that.
Just what The Raven’s Call truly was, she had no idea. All she knew was that there had been several single episode parts available for the production, and the one she had been assigned was said to be the most important even though it was the smallest.

No-one was to know that she had a role, so she had kept it a secret from everyone but her parents. She could admit to being nervous about such, as she felt a growing sense of wanting to tell everyone, but maybe that was just nerves from being a part of a professional production.

She wanted to do well.

Mistakes were a part of acting, she knew that. Even the professionals made them. But this was her first time. As such, she held hope that her performance would be good enough for others to take notice.

The car turned up a side street, which brought Kimberly’s head to look to the front windshield. Despite her nerves, she smiled. Soon she would be doing what she loved. The car made another turn, and she saw the building she would be at. Her smile widened, though she felt a large twinge of nerves hit her.

With the car now pulled up, she and her parents were out of it.

“You’ll do good,” her dad said. “You show them what you can do.”

“Keep relaxed,” her mom added. “Perform your best, and don’t worry about mistakes.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I’ll make sure to show myself at my best.”

Giving a deep breath as her parents withdrew back inside the car, she walked forward to the doors of the building, letting it out as she neared. The air that expelled from her seemed to carry her doubts, as her nervous energy seemed to quell itself as she entered.

Inside, it was clear the building wasn’t usually used as a production base. It even looked as though it had become a home of the crew, with a large TV in one corner with sofas bunched around it. Over in another corner, two people were being instructed in some sort of fight scene.

“Are you Kimberly?” someone asked her.

She jumped slightly, having been interested in the goings on of the place. Turning around, she saw a man with a clipboard.

“That’s me,” Kimberly said with a smile.

“Excellent.” He looked down at the clipboard and looked to make a mark of a piece of paper on it. Then he looked back up. “I am both the producer and director of this series, so most refer to me as the production manager.” He freed one of his hands to shake hers, then added, “I’m sure you’ve been wondering what this part you’ve accepted is.”

“Yeah, I’m interested to know my role. Small but important, it was said to be.”

The production manager gave a smile, then indicated that she should follow him. Leading her over to where the two actors she had been watching were, he called for them to greet her. He then started talking in more detail of the role and what she would be doing.

She remained silent throughout the explanation. She couldn’t help but internally laugh, since if she did become successful in acting, it would be almost the same as a rags-to-riches story. Literally.

The person she would be playing was a homeless woman living in a junkyard. The two main leads would come to the junkyard she called her home, where she would have a brief conversation with them which would eventually be how they overcame the evil that had been dominating them each encounter during the finale.
She had been given the script of the scene and directed to the wardrobe department – one of the changing rooms of the building, where she could try on the costume that had been prepared.

That costume turned out to be regular clothes roughed up a bit and being one or two sizes too big for her. One of the people overseeing her costume explained that her character would have been within charity shops using what little money she had to buy plenty of clothes, many of which were mainly used for decoration or bed coverings.

The clothes felt weird to wear, not being used to clothes hanging loose on her as these were. But she knew that complaining about such was against the character. She knew that if she had little money, she would also take whatever she managed to get.

“Nice outfit,” Kayleigh commented as she walked out. “You look like you belong in that junkyard.”

Johnathon nodded his approval, but then added, “What about her face? Hair? That’s the most important part, right?”

“I’m sure I can do something when we get to the junkyard,” Kimberly told the two actors.

“Ah, you’re ready,” the production manager said as he came walking over. “I’ve just had word that the junkyard is now prepared for our use, so we’ll be heading on over now. Have you still got the script?” he then asked.

Kimberly lifted the bag she had with her, extracting the script from it to show.

“Excellent. The journey won’t take long, but you can read it as we go.”

Kimberly took one of the back seats of the car. Kayleigh sat with her, while Johnathon took the front passenger seat. With the journey underway, the three had a reading of the script. At first, they just read it in normal voices. On the second read, the other two used their character’s voices. There were a few lines before her own, so she sat and listened, and wondered how to inflect a bit of her character into who she was playing.

It was a natural thing to do in productions, she had read, that you should never shy away from expressing the character how you wanted, as long as you didn’t massively break script to do so. As such, she looked down at that first line of hers, thinking of herself in the position of this character.

“If we were able to find a weakness,” Kayleigh stated as Erin,” we’d be able to exploit it. With how things have been going, though…”

“How are we finding a weakness?” Johnathon exclaimed as Cameron. “Every time we get near him, we get beat. The only weakness is in ourselves.”

Her line was next, and she decided to take a risk.

“Oi!” she read, trying her best for a northern accent. “Get away before ah deck ya one!”

She looked up, wondering what reaction she’d get. Kayleigh had immediately read her next line, but there was a small smile that Kimberly could see. Quickly she looked at her own script again to read the next line. Aside from slight changes to how she read words, she didn’t break much from the script for any of her other lines.

Once they were finished, Kayleigh was the first to speak. “I was surprised at that line delivery, but it certainly fits the character.”

“Can you read the line as stated on the script in that voice?” the production manager asked.

Kimberly could feel the slight fear that threatened to spark, but held it back by telling herself that it was natural to want to know how the line as stated would sound.

“Oi!” she read in her best northern accent again. “Get away before I throw summat at ya!”

There was silence except for the rumble of the engine as the production manager continued to drive them. She held her breath, waiting on what would be said.

“Your line certainly felt more natural,” the production manager stated. “Go ahead with it.”

Kimberly exhaled, a smile breaking out as she realised the risk had paid off.

Not long after, they arrived at the junkyard they would be using to shoot the scene. The three actors looked around, noting where they would be positioned. Kimberly was escorted up to and inside the pile of trash that made up her home. The location manager showed her the bathtub, and how best to lift it up so that she could then talk out of it.

Testing the lifting and replacing of it three times, she lifted faster on the fouth – as though she was confident in doing so having been doing it for months. When she replaced it, it held in place. On the fifth time, she lifted it up and looked out from the entrance it created among the junk. She was raised a slight bit off the ground, meaning the two leads would be looking up at her when they talked.

Coming out from among the junk, she noted her hands had become grubby from the dirt of the place. She lifted them to her face and, being careful not to get near her eyes, rubbed them around it. She then lifted them to her hair and tried to make it more wild-looking.

“Now that looks better,” Johnathon commented. “Not months of dirt and grime, but enough to sell it.”

The cameras were placed in position as the production manager gave them their last instructions. Kimberly nodded with the other two to show that she understood what was being asked of her. She was then helped back to her junk home, where she would stay until called to act. She kept an eye on the woman who would give her the mark to lift the bathtub away from the hole.

All the cameras would be active as soon as the shoot started, so anyone not needed made sure they were outside of the view of the highest – which was cleverly positioned within the junk to look down at the two leads. The command for action then came.

She could just about hear Kayleigh and Johnathon giving their lines as they walked toward the junk pile where she waited. Once they were close and leaning against it, she could hear them clearly.

As soon as Johnathon’s line of “The only weakness is in ourselves,” was finished, the woman gave her the mark to begin. Turning around to face the bathtub, she put her hand to the bottom part of it and pulled up. It seemed to wobble in her grip, and she was scared that it would fall forward onto the two leads, but managed to correct it when pushing it backward slightly as she continued lifting it.

She delivered her lines perfectly, remembering the accent and inflections on words she had given to the character. Her final part of the role was the stare she gave the two as they walked away. She had been thinking of how she would react in that situation, and had tried her best to show the hurt they had inflicted upon her by their actions to her suggestion.

“You looked a bit lost with that stare,” the production manager told her, once back with him.

“How did it look?” Kimberly asked. “Did it show the hurt I was feeling from their reaction to my suggestion?”

“Hurt… It looked more like longing. As though you wanted them to like you.”

“How could you tell?”

“If you were hurt by their suggestion, you would have been showing more emotion. It looked as though only your eyes were doing the emoting.”

He then gave her a suggestion. Without the cameras rolling, he told the three to get back into position, then told them to recite their last lines and actions as though this was a second take.

On Cameron’s last line of “Erin, let’s go somewhere pointless suggestions won’t be given to us,” she let shock show on her face. As the two walked away, she let that shock slide into sadness, lowering her head as well as her eyes as she slowly retreated back inside.

“Excellent,” the production manager called. “You sold the hurt that time. Remember that for this real second take.”

They began from the start of the scene, where she once again acted mostly through her voice, emoting with her eyes. Once the conversation was done, she repeated the shocked look and sliding to sadness.

“I do believe that’s all we need,” the production manager stated. “But I do want one more take just so that we’re prepared when it comes to editing.”

With that third run of the scene complete, the four came together again to share a final word before heading back.

Kimberly was glowing inside. She hadn’t messed up once, and the one time she almost had with that bathtub, she hadn’t overreacted and made things worse. When this episode aired, she felt confident in thinking, she would have a great professional scene in which to showcase her acting skills in the future.

Back at the production base, she was told to go have a wash and get changed. Within the changing room that was the wardrobe department, she was given two baskets and directed to the showers. One of those baskets had her clothes in, the other was empty aside from a towel.

Having a quick wash, she was soon back in her normal clothes. Handing over the baskets, she walked back out to the main room.

“That’s all we need you for,” the production manager told her, “but you are welcome to stay for as long as you want today.”

“Thank you,” Kimberly said, having stalled for a second to make sure she didn’t falter over the words. She hadn’t expected them to allow her to stay, but was grateful they were.

“We’ll be within the town filming later on, so it will be a good experience for you to see a bit more of the filming.”

Having said thank you again, the production manager walked away. Before she could think what to do, however, she was joined by Kayleigh.

“You did great,” she said. “I’m sure you’ll be getting more acting roles once people see you in this.”

This time, Kimberly did really falter in her words.

“Breathe,” Kayleigh said, with a small burst of laughter. “I know how you feel.”

Kimberly took a long breath, her eyes closed as she relished in the recognition Kayleigh’s words had given her. Letting it out, she smiled and said, “What was it like for you? Your first time in a professional production?”

Kayleigh started walking as she started to speak, heading outside, so Kimberly fell into step beside her. As she listened while they walked around the building, she felt more relaxed, hearing of the stories of another. They exchanged phone numbers once back outside the door, with Kayleigh then asking what she thought of the series from what she had seen of it.

“What from little I’ve seen of it, I can tell it’s a superhero type fare, and I’m all for it.”

“Well,” Kayleigh said with a sly smile, “I can show you more than what you’ve seen, if you want.”

Kimberly agreed, but Kayleigh did nothing but raise her still held phone with a smile. Kimberly understood. Nothing was going to be discussed here.

With happy thoughts of having made a great first impression within the professional acting world, Kimberly followed Kayleigh back inside the building, ready to see more of The Raven’s Call.

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by shy guy 64 » Thu Apr 07, 2022 4:40 pm

5 years? That great keep it up

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by DarkRula » Thu Apr 07, 2022 5:07 pm

Thanks. I definitely will.

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PostRe: The Writer's Sphere - Share your writing
by DarkRula » Thu Apr 28, 2022 4:56 pm

A new addition to Shorts of the Rula, so check Forest Falls out either on Wattpad or in the condense box below.

He rolled from his side onto his back, feeling the stiff aches like many sticks poking at him. Turning his head, he looked up the slope, feeling again every battering bump from his roll down it. Slowly, he brought out his phone from one of his pockets. It was cracked, a great jagged fissure of lines that rendered the screen unusable.

A hiss of a sigh escaped him that transformed into a howl of pain.

A slight movement of his leg was all it had taken. Until that moment, he’d been unable to feel the burning hurt it was sending him. Now, it seemed to be all that he could feel.

Pushing himself to a seating position, he looked at his legs. The left looked fine. The right looked fine.

Except for the furious fire of the pain within.

Breathing in deeply, he tried to think of anything but the pain. Letting his breath out, he felt slightly better. Repeating it twice more, he then looked around as he thought of the best way to continue.

Hopefully, he pressed the power button of his phone to wake it, but that hope was snubbed when no light showed.

He knew it was evening, having left Thetford at six of the afternoon, walking the forest back to his home of Brandon. A journey he had made many times, making his fall this time a stupid accident.

There were many paths through the forest, but he only ever touched a few of them, as he would always cut through the trees to make as direct a path as possible.

He had to be close to one of those paths. It would be there he might be able to find someone. Anyone. Whether a jogger or dog walker or anyone else, he needed help.

Tucking his legs toward him to jump up, doing his best to ignore the pain of the right, he lost balance as soon as it was just his legs supporting him.

On his side, he shuffled closer to the nearest tree. Grabbing it, pulling himself up with it, he leant against it with only his left leg on the ground. His right knee rested on the trunk of the tree as he rubbed at the lower half of his leg.

The pain didn’t subside.

He couldn’t be sure if it was broken or just severely stressed from the fall. No matter what had happened to it, the only sure thing was clear. It wouldn’t be supporting him if he tried to use it.

But he had to if he wanted to find help.

Fortunately, being surrounded by trees was an advantage.

Quickly looking around, he tried determining the direction that would let him see a path in the shortest distance. Sure on that direction, he prepared for the long steps to the next tree.

Pushing himself away from the tree, he swung his right leg forward, his left leaving the ground. For a second, he flew through the air. His right foot touched the ground.

There was nothing. His leg had left him. He felt frozen, unable to move except for the fact the momentum of his jump was still carrying him forward. Suddenly all the pain burst back into existence just as he fell forward in an uncontrolled tumble, whacked off the tree and onto the ground again.

Pain flared in his left arm as he landed on it, quickly dispersing again a second later as he rolled onto his front.

He was angry at himself for attempting such a stupid move. He had wanted to move quickly, but hadn’t considered that doing so would cause more harm to himself.
Pushing himself back to standing, gritting his teeth at the pain as he moved, he leant against the tree he had just hit. He needed to take things slow, rest when necessary, and hopefully find someone soon.

Putting his right foot forward, just ahead of the left, he kept most of his weight on the left until he felt ready to make his next move. As quick as light, his left swung forward to land on the ground again before his right had fully started to crumple under the weight.

Continuing the small hops, his breathing came hard as he passed one tree and intended to stop at the next. He never got the chance.

For a third time, he was on the floor again, his balance gone as soon as the transfer of weight fully hit his right leg.

His eyes closed as the pain tried to overcome him, but he couldn’t allow it.

Still with eyes closed, he felt around for the nearest tree. Unable to do so, he pulled himself forward with his hands, then straightened his arms again to continue searching. Almost immediately finding one, his hands gripped it. Pulling himself closer to it, he tried pulling himself up.

The pain burnt throughout him, making him forget where it had originated. His right leg planted on the ground, he collapsed again as soon as he pushed upward.
The pain finally claimed him. He had blacked out before he hit the ground.

Something awoke him. Dazed, it took him a second to realise that someone had their hand in his pocket.

His eyes opened as he flailed his hands to attack whoever was close by. The light of the evening had fully passed, blanketing the forest in total darkness, so he had no idea who it was.

The hand retreated from his pocket as something hit one of his hands. He made a grab for whatever it was, feeling the leather of a strap as his hand closed around it. He was jerked forward as the other tried to run away. His grip remained firm on that strap.

Something stabbed into his side. Instinctively he used his other hand to massage where he had been hit. His hand felt the next impact, so quickly he made a grab for where he felt the leg of the other was.

Success.

He could feel the other struggling to get free. That struggle intensified as voices broke the silence and lights started flashing around.

“Help!” he quickly shouted. “Help!”

The bag dropped as the other let it go, with their hand now gripping his wrist as they pulled his grip off them. Lights flooded him as the other dashed away.

“Get after her!” someone called.

Two of the lights swung around to face the direction of the thief as the third pointed to his leg.

“Did she do this to you?” the police officer asked, kneeling down on the floor to get a closer look at him.

“No. I’d fell down. Think it might be broke. She was robbing me when I woke. Fortunately, I’d managed to grab something of hers before she ran away.”

He lifted the bag up and handed it to the officer. Taking it, they looked inside.

“The stolen items are still inside. Thank you for getting it from her. Hopefully she will be caught too.”

The officer radioed in to say the items were recovered and to send a car, then turned back to him and said, “Get a grip on me and I’ll help you. It shouldn’t be far to go.”

He took a grip on the officer’s shoulder, who stood up slowly to allow him to keep stable as he followed the action.

As they started walking, the officer asked what had happened. He gave more detail on his walk through the forest, when he had fallen, and how he had tried to find help without a phone to rely on. Talking helped numb the pain of his leg, along with the support of the officer. He kept his mind firmly away from the pain, aware of how much it was still screaming at him to rest.

As they reached the police car, the officer’s radio crackled on with a report.

“She’d fallen down, so was easily apprehended. We’re bringing her back now.”

As he was helped into the car, with the officer who had helped him talking on the radio again, he couldn’t help but be thankful the thief had arrived.

He had no respect for her, considering she could have helped him but chose to only look out for herself, but without her arrival and the police on her tail, he would still have been left out here with nothing but the pain of his leg for company until the morning. It would have been another hard slog to find help, assuming that his leg had still been too hurt to support him.

He'd find out exactly what had happened to his leg soon enough. For now, he could relax as best as possible knowing he was in safe hands and that his own stuff had been recovered.

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