His piercing blue eyes penetrated the new mooned night.
whimper
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
His piercing blue eyes penetrated the new mooned night.
whimper
Hee. Take that Untoasted Crumpet Girl.
Take that Untoasted Crumpet Girl.
Nothing can defeat the Buttery Untoasted Crumpet of Love!
Somebody's new moon pierced by blue eyes begs to differ...
Somebody's new moon pierced by blue eyes begs to differ...
pftpftpftph.
Where's your pointless repetition? Where are all the staccato individual words chopped out of perfectly good sentences? Where's your grotesquely overdone use of adverbs, missy?
Huh? Huh?
(although, I actually think my "night" drabble is worse than my "porn" drabble.)
Hey, I have more practice trying to make my bad writing good than bad writing left whimpering on its own.
I tried the non-linear over metaphored angle meself.
Although, I do bow to the flowery badness that is your Night drabble, in all candor.
Although, I do bow to the flowery badness that is your Night drabble, in all candor.
Thank you! Doesn't it suck?
Man, bad writing on purpose? Hard.
Sucks like a sucking thing.
Really hard to keep it bad and brief, too. I had some really bad metaphors in there and some more runons, but they made it longer than 100 words.
Discipline is HARD.
Hmmmm.
Having done two overdones, maybe I should try a Hemingway chop-up?
Third one.
Bad Hemingway
The room was dark. Cold. No lightbulb in the fixture. Some asshole took it away. Left me in the dark.
I walked forward. I had to - just do it. Left foot first. Right foot. Left. Right. Left. I walked.
My right foot met something on the floor. Squishy. Soft. It wobbled like a cheap special effect. I felt it, shivering, quivering, like monster guts in a B movie.
No light. I couldn't see. I cursed: damn darkness. My words echoed back at me like vindaloo cooked with rancid ghee.
But the squishy thing on the floor made no reply.