Red Cape and the Happily Ever After out now!
Story 2 is out for sale on Gumroad. Click for links!
Everything an artist does is useful. Every failure is a lesson learned, every exercise and job is practice. All you have to do is put in the time, and if you don’t you might get bitter but you have to accept that it’s your own fault. That’s hard. I know because that is my main problem. Just don’t add stress to your worries by comparing your progress to another artist’s. everyone works and learns at a different pace. Just do something and you will improve. The more you do, the more you improve and the faster you improve. Simple!
The following is a sketch script I wrote for a challenge on HitRECord.org. Please check out my account there and support me. With enough attention and likes my work might be featured in short films and other final, already-funded productions.
About a month back I saw a beautiful girl and couldn’t help staring. I immediately wrote about the encounter in a series of tweets, adding my narrative flair.
I can’t remember where I learned it. Oh wait, I can. Great opening, Ems. You really planned that one well. It was while I was collaborating on my quirky, supernatural noir thriller about a man who has to conquer his literal demons to get out of the subconscious world he’s trapped in. I met this mysterious girl called Lindsey who wanted to collaborate on something fantastic – by which I mean she just generally wanted to do fantasy. I brought the amazing story – of course.
To be honest, there isn’t an easy answer to this question as I’ve been doing something different each time I write a story. So, I’ll breakdown each approach and we can look at the pros and cons of each. That’s a good idea, else I’ll just waffle off on tangents like a fat drunk penguin.
I was 6 or 7 when I knew the only thing that gave me blissful, tummy fluttering excitement was making stories. I loved when the teacher said we were going to write a story in class, because I imagined robots fighting, thieves and ninjas sneaking, heroes flying and me jumping around in it all, a…
Together they spent some time selecting and tracking suitable characters for Ramses to turn. He drove the pickup slowly down the street, looking for individuals he judged worthy. This consisted of those who looked like they had no one to miss them in the mortal world and who could hold their own when the supernatural shit hit the metaphorical fan.
She turned to see a man dressed in a similar set of overalls to her acquired set. He stood a few inches taller than her, which made him over 6-foot. Most of his face was hidden under a peaked cap.
With a gulp of milk, he wondered if news presenters ever wore trousers. Then an item on the news broadcast actually caught his attention.
The instant an advert for cat food appeared, Ramses vaulted the sofa and kicked the TV to the floor. He stamped on it, glass and metal shattering like ice, until the face of the cute kitten was obliterated by his boot and the meowing was drowned out by the hiss of sparks. He lowered his foot. Somehow that crunch wasn’t as satisfying as the real thing.