When I was like 13 or something like that I went to this acting group at my library and we did this exercise where we had to collectively make a story by going around the circle and each person saying one word. I was thinking it would be neat if a bunch of nerdfighters got wrote a story like this. Someone would start off with a paragraph and then another person would write another paragraph and another person would go and so on until we had a completed story and it would be full of awesome. I guess just comment if you are interested and think of an actual way to make this happen. I was thinking we could make it like a googledoc that can be publicly edited and we could just post the like around. I dont know. I'm not UPS. I'm not very good with logistics. \
This sounds fun. Maybe more of the "sophisticated version", if you will, is writing a couple sentences each. One word can be a bit tedious especially if someone is a bit out of the loop. But I would love to do something like that. Cool idea! **Does Nerdfighters sign** Hoo- hah! Nerdfighters! :P
Yea that what I was thinking. Stories never got anywhere with just one word per person. I was thinking each person write a whole paragraph or more, what ever strike their fancy.
Sure sure. So do you want to start it off then?
Dude! Of course you can join us! That's the point of Nerdfighters! We have to unite! We can't exclude! :P Sure that sounds like a good idea. I would think we should keep it here. If we don't do that, it might be kind of hard to keep track of.
I've actually been a part of a few of these here. They're pretty fun. There were rules like you could only write up to three paragraphs at a turn, or maybe it was only up to a hundred words or something. I don't know, we could make our own rules. It was pretty fun, though I stopped the story I was playing because people started breaking the rules. We played on a forum group thing just like this one.
Someone should just start it. I'm afraid my beginning would be lame.
Eliza watched as the thickets of thick moss-covered trees flew past her closed window. There are so many, she thought, her head resting in her open hand. She had always liked trees, in an abstract nature-is-good sort of way. The leaves were nice, the dark swirling bark was kind of cool, and they were pretty in fall when they changed colors. She had liked looking at them when she walked to school in the mornings. But those trees were different from these. In the city, they were neat and trim, with little fences surrounding each one, but these. They were so wild. And tangled. And... free.
She gave another unnoticed sigh, her hundredth one on this wonderful family roadtrip, if you could call it that. She had been forced to move from the Californian coast, with rolling waves and toes full of sand, to this damp, dark forest of Nowheresville Oregon, abandoning all her friends, her home, her life.
For the hundredth time since the trip started, Eliza looked down at her phone. And then, also for the hundredth time, she scrolled through her text messages. The last words of everyone she had ever known, her whole life captured there. "Friends 4ever", "miss u", "c u l8r", and the other short, bittersweet remnants of friends gone by. And then there were the pictures, snapshots she had taken of everyone at her going-away party. Maybe they could keep in touch, but it seemed like such an impossible challenge when she thought about it. She was trying to be optimistic about things, but it was hard not to be melancholy when you were expected to give up all the things you know for one giant unknown.
Next to her in the back seat, her brother Justin was playing one of his silly games, tapping away at the buttons with his face glued to the glowing screen. He seemed so unconcerned about the sudden change. Didn't he realize his whole life was changing? His relaxed attitude just made her all the more anxious as she looked out the window again. Watching the trees again, she found herself just a little jealous. Sure, it's not an exciting life, but at least they don't have to worry about getting moved and taking root somewhere else...
She watched desolately as the tree trunks merged into one gray blur, her eyes unfocused but not not relaxed. She was about to sigh for the hundred-and-first time when something caught her eye. She sat up straighter, leaning closer to the window. It was the glare of the sunlight, she told herself, and yet her eyes strained into the dark depths of forest and foliage. You're tired. It's been a long day. Your eyes are playing tricks. She told herself these things over and over again until she almost began to believe them when she saw it again.
Something deep in the forest, behind the dappled bushes and mottled ferns, moved. Something big. It had only been a flicker of brown, or maybe it was black, but she had seen it twice now.
"Holy shit," she muttered to herself.
"What was that?" her mother asked her distractedly from the front seat, an unlit cigarette dangling from her ruby red lips.
"Oh... n-nothing," Eliza stammered out. "I just thought I saw a deer, that's all."
"Yeah, they live out here in the wilderness," her mom said flatly, obviously uninterested. "Pretty different from Cali, huh?"
"Yeah... I guess so." She gaze went back out the window. She knew what she saw hadn't been a deer.
((pssh, your writing does not suck. compared to most, it's pretty good. either way you're totally allowed to suck, no one is judging.))
A movement in the trees followed a movement in her stomach, and certainly not of the favorable kind. She callously smoothed her jeans, and then her sweater. Her eyes glinted nervously from uncle to mother, then to brother.
The fates had turned against her just then. A strange moving-- and possibly malicious-- object in the woods, of course, could not get them in their high speed tank of metal and fuel, but now that the contents of Eliza's stomach threatened very effectively to spill... they would have to stop the car. The only defense they had against the monster in Eliza's mind.
She shook involuntarily before making the statement, and though her fear wished it otherwise, "I'm going to puke."
And the car screeched to a halt. Uncle Leslie's face looked instantly clammy at the fear of stomach fluids landing upon the insides of his precious vestibule of masculinity. He all but kicked Eliza out of it, and right into the expanse of trees on the side of the road.
"Be quick about it."
Her eyes, which exactly matched the rustic green of the trees, widened imperceptibly. Her stomach shook with fear, then expelling their contents rather violently, got even. Eliza's knees now shook, as she turned back towards the car.
But it was no longer there...