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Post by Samuel Pavel Taylor on Jul 27, 2009 21:38:02 GMT -5
A tall, plain looking man sat at a small table by himself. He adjusted his glasses before sitting back to stare at his computer screen. Before him a black word document stood pulled open, waiting for something to be written on it. Not taking his eyes off the screen the man reached forward and took a hold of his coffee. Sipping on the hot beverage he continued to stare at the page.
The man was Samuel Pavel Taylor, otherwise knows as Sam. Sam worked on doctoring up scripts for some of the directors in the area. He wasn't working at the moment though, no, he had the day off today. Some might think that was odd that he kept on writing on his day off, but Sam didn't see why they would think that. When he worked he fixed other people's scripts, right now though he was writing something that was his own idea. Or at least he would be as soon as he figured out what to write. With another sip of his coffee the causally dressed man moved forward as if he had had an idea. With a shake of his head he put down his cup. He sighed, he didn't know what to write. His only idea at the moment was to keep staring at his computer and hope and idea came to him. It had happened to others so why not to him.
Hoping to see some sort of inspiration Sam looked about the area where he sat. The little coffee shop wasn't crowded, though there where plenty of customers. For the most part everyone was involved in their own little world. A few where starting into their computer screens like he had been moments earlier, one person read a book as they sipped their drink, and there was a newspaper reader tucked into a back corner. Nothing muse inspiring. With a sigh Sam adjusted his glasses, held his head in one hand, and thought. He had been waiting all week for his day off and had been eager to write yesterday, now that he had a chance he had no idea what to write. He should have seen that coming.
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Post by teagan krondike on Jul 29, 2009 23:50:16 GMT -5
  Teagan sat at home on her sofa bored out of her mind. She was trying to write something but all she had gotten so far was three sentences of blah. She had restarted so many times but scribbled vigorously every beginning she had used so far. She had dreamed of something last night and she thought it was perfect for a new story to write up. She wished she had a computer since it would definitely be a lot easier to type than to write and get hand cramps, although, if you type long enough, your wrists do start to hurt. She let out a frustrated sigh and glanced out the window. She couldn't see much from where she was sitting so she laid her notebook and pen down on the coffee table and stood up, walking toward the window to see what was going on outside. She saw cars and buildings and people walking about the sidewalks. She thought that maybe this would give her some inspiration but no. So, the young lady decided to pack up her junk and head to Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf on Melrose Avenue. They had some pretty good cappuccino there if she was remembering correctly.
She had been lounging in her pajamas so she ran into her bedroom to gather up some clothes and brought them into the bathroom where she took a shower and got ready. Once she got out and was dressed, the girl brushed through her tangled wavy brown hair and then pulled it up into a loose and rather messy bun. Her bangs were bothering her at the moment so she pinned them back to. Then she washed her face and put on some light, natural looking makeup. She wasn't one for wearing very much noticeable makeup, mostly just some eyeliner, mascara, and foundation. Once she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror to make sure she looked okay. Satisfied, she flipped off the light, slipped on some flip-flops, and grabbed her supplies and keys to the apartment.
She took a taxi to the coffee place and when they arrived, she handed the driver the amount of cash he needed and hopped out of the taxicab. Teagan pulled the door open and walked right up to the end of the line. There wasn't a big crowd in here, only a few people. When her turn came, she asked for a small cappuccino and slid the cashier the money and waited while they made her beverage. "Here you go," the guy behind the counter told her as she took her drink from him. She smiled and replied a thanks. Then she moved out of the way so others could order and made her way to an open table behind a man with glasses on his laptop. As she sat down, she peered over his head to see what he was doing and saw a blank word document. So he was trying to write something too. Interesting. Although, this gave Teagan absolutely no help to her plot. “So, you're stuck to?” she inquired leaning towards him, notepad in her lap, pen in hand.
tagged Sam
status done
word count 535
outfit found here |
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Post by Samuel Pavel Taylor on Jul 30, 2009 20:07:38 GMT -5
After he looked around him the dark haired man had gone back to thinking, or at least trying to think, about story ideas. He needed characters right now, that much was certain. If he had characters the script, for that was what he had decided to make, would write itself.
Suddenly he was struck with an idea, well a character anyways. A gruff but handsome man, in his mid forties, or at least late thirties. The man would be an outcast, perhaps a political dissident. Sam couldn't help but smile, it wasn't much but it was a start. This man was a good sign, he could very well lead to something good and original enough. Sam wanted to learn more about this man he had thought up, if he knew who the gruff man's friends where or if there was a love interest he could easily come up with a little scenario to write up. That scenario could even spiral into the whole story. As he prepared to write out a short description of his new character someone spoke to him. Sam couldn't help but jump and be brought back into the real world.
Turning around Sam faced the one who had spoken to him with a sheepish grin. “I'm stuck,” he replied, “Or at least I was. I think I might have a bit of an idea now. I have a character at least, which is better than when I started out today.” Sam was quick to notice the notepad and pen the younger girl had on her. “Are you a writer too?” he asked casually. There where a lot of people around here who wanted to write something big so it wouldn't surprise him if this girl was a writer, even if she was four years his junior.
“I'm Sam by the way,” He said as he offered his hand for her to shake. Being a writer Sam couldn't help but wonder what the girl was writing. Then again, he though, she had asked if he was stuck as well. Perhaps she had no idea what she was writing either. That would be kind of nice, they could discus ideas and what not. Sam always had an easier time coming up with what he was going to write if he could talk it over with another and get some kind of feed back.
((OOC: sorry about the weak post. It's not my best.))
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Post by teagan krondike on Aug 11, 2009 23:08:47 GMT -5
For a moment, she thought she had something, she began writing it down quickly so she wouldn't forget any details. Except, halfway through, she realized that she didn't like how it appeared on paper as much as she did in her mind. A sigh escaped from her mouth and she looked up to the ceiling. Why did writing have to be so hard sometimes? Teagan's best time for writing was right before she went to bed, which was around 9-10 or so. As a result, if she stayed up, she would be tired if she didn't sleep in, and if she didn't write down her idea at least, the whole story line would be totally lost. But this time, she had an amazing dream that she would love to put on to paper but she just couldn't figure out the right way to start it. She wished her mind would just work with the pen and paper and mix in her dream and decide upon a great hook to grab the reader's attention and make them want more. Every way she had tried didn't seem flaming enough, they were boring to read, to her at least. So now, it was up to her utensils to communicate with the dream replaying over and over in her head.
She smiled and propped her glasses upon her head before she spoke. “Yes, a character is a good start, at least it's something.” She glanced down at the blank paper, white all but the skinny horizontal blue lines and one long red line moving vertically representing the margin space. “Yep. And I had a dream last night that I just have to make into a story but I'm having serious troubles deciding upon the right way—a good way—to start it,” she explained. She took a sip of her cappuccino hoping that maybe it could put some inspiring thoughts in her head. She looked at the man as she said this. He was older than her, she knew that, and he probably had tons more experience than she did. Maybe he could help her out, give her a few pointers. “So what type of writing do you do? Like, do you write books, poetry, are you a journalist, script writer? Am I getting close?” She smiled as she asked this, giggling a little.
She took hold of his hand, shaking it politely. “Oh, I'm Teagan. I'm so surprised I hadn't introduced myself yet! Man, usually that's like one of the first things I do.” she went off, talking to herself mostly. Then she shook her head, forgetting about it, and going back to her paper. Maybe if she thought more of how these characters were going to be and how old they were, names, family, friends, all that jazz. She knew she had to get that figured out so she thought through names and ages that would be best, and what fit the looks of the characters she had in mind. She knew for sure their had to be a boy and a girl or the whole plot would be tossed and she didn't want that.
tagged Sam
status done
word count 519, yeah, about that
outfit found here
notes sorry, it's kind of a weird post and sorry it took me so long |
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