Nah my story comes from memes, porn, and drugs. If i had to say, i do include some of my own Weed Adventures tho.
Like once i got so high i wrapped up my buddy in a curtain for some reason. And threw him out of a window. Which dont worry, it was a very short fall so he wasnt hurt.
But that scene made it into the story several times when my character kidnapped a king by rolling him in a curtain and jumping out the window of a castle tower. And later on he wrapped him up again, did drugs with the guy, and eventually the king convinced himself he was the Divine Roll. And my MC tried to convince the king's drugged out son to smoke his own father with him.
"Dude...look at the size of that roll! Lets smoke 'im."
All derived from one really weird thing i did while high.
I formulate the teasing dialogues I've had in my prior relationships and my marriage into my work.
The question is thus: which ones aren't examples of that. O_____________O
But an example of real life affecting my writing:
“Clothes, Arianna! I haven’t any clothes!”
A yelp sounded out inside me, and though the stone was still falling at an alarming speed: the blackness came back to my body, and there it deposited the red and black dress I’d been wearing before I’d rather soiled it with gore, and not a second too soon I was dressed, except for something which vaguely tugged upon my heart.
The children were indeed partaking of the feast, and most all of them turned to see me as the stone barrier completely came down, and I breathed with no small relief that she could apparently dress me up without my asking, which I could only imagine would lead to further atrocities against Providence in the future.
Except… something was missing. Nobody could see it, but I’ll be damned if I couldn’t feel it, and so I muttered through my teeth,
“Underthings, now!”
She squeaked, and the black mist somehow hid itself underneath my clothes as she placed them around me, and if I wasn’t mistaken I heard her breath hitch, which set a slight blush upon my face, but she’d luckily left it at that. Would that she could’ve so subtly placed stockings upon my legs, but I would simply have to endure being bare-legged for a while.
My husband had quite forgotten to get me clothing for a shower that I'd quite suddenly needed to take, and so I had him go and collect up my clothes for me.
When he brought them to me, that particular article was missing. I definitely repurposed that one, though I don't know if it was from the same day.
Some reality experiences, especially with mental conditions actually. Or my worldview - how I judge certain stuff (mostly philosophical)
There's always going to be a character that basically has my worldview, or one that had a condition I'm familiar of, or injuries or hobbies I've had
There's always a character that mirrors a part of my outlook on life in the stories and there usually are some scenes that mirror my opinion on some things I have experienced, but those are rare.
The rest is fiction, cause, well, I write fictions and they don't need to be realistic
Pretty much what the others said. I'm also a biology student so I like adding random facts about sea urchins and other stuffs into my writing. I can write a variety of characters by basing them of various parts of my personality, but the hardest part is writing a character that isn't much like me at all. For example, a sweet, optimistic character.
Pretty much what the others said. I'm also a biology student so I like adding random facts about sea urchins and other stuffs into my writing. I can write a variety of characters by basing them of various parts of my personality, but the hardest part is writing a character that isn't much like me at all. For example, a sweet, optimistic character.
I formulate the teasing dialogues I've had in my prior relationships and my marriage into my work.
The question is thus: which ones aren't examples of that. O_____________O
But an example of real life affecting my writing:
“Clothes, Arianna! I haven’t any clothes!”
A yelp sounded out inside me, and though the stone was still falling at an alarming speed: the blackness came back to my body, and there it deposited the red and black dress I’d been wearing before I’d rather soiled it with gore, and not a second too soon I was dressed, except for something which vaguely tugged upon my heart.
The children were indeed partaking of the feast, and most all of them turned to see me as the stone barrier completely came down, and I breathed with no small relief that she could apparently dress me up without my asking, which I could only imagine would lead to further atrocities against Providence in the future.
Except… something was missing. Nobody could see it, but I’ll be damned if I couldn’t feel it, and so I muttered through my teeth,
“Underthings, now!”
She squeaked, and the black mist somehow hid itself underneath my clothes as she placed them around me, and if I wasn’t mistaken I heard her breath hitch, which set a slight blush upon my face, but she’d luckily left it at that. Would that she could’ve so subtly placed stockings upon my legs, but I would simply have to endure being bare-legged for a while.
My husband had quite forgotten to get me clothing for a shower that I'd quite suddenly needed to take, and so I had him go and collect up my clothes for me.
When he brought them to me, that particular article was missing. I definitely repurposed that one, though I don't know if it was from the same day.
I put in a disclaimer, but the first few paragraphs of my story are pretty much plagiarized from real life. That was May 1, 2015 for me. Of course, anything to do with the Kaiba brothers is pure fabrication, but I was fantasizing and looked back on a day in my life where I could have actually met Seto Kaiba if he was a real person.
I think it is inevitable that we write about things that we ourselves had experienced. If all the things we write were out of touch with most human comprehension and intuitions, it would simply result in a story so exotic it becomes unfathomable to most. Simply said, a story written by an alien.
I think it is inevitable that we write about things that we ourselves had experienced. If all the things we write were out of touch with most human comprehension and intuitions, it would simply result in a story so exotic it becomes unfathomable to most. Simply said, a story written by an alien.
Remember laying down at night and imagining your life if one of your parents died and you started simulating what it could be and while you're at it, start shedding tears and cry yourself to sleep?
Either it's very little, or that I've memory-wipe myself from too much horror and torture I've to go through.
There is definitely some dark desire through. In my first story, one of the main characters was a young mistress of a human noble family who got skinned alive by an elf royalty before getting forced into wearing the skin of another elf. She turned insane and became obsessive with her father, but still a pretty nice assassin organization leader nonetheless.
I don't base my stories on my own experiences much (though I have an idea or two that I actually wanna do that are based on my experiences), but I still base a lot of what I write IRL.
Like... Doing a lot of research to try making my medi-fantasy setting as historically accurate as it can be and stuff! I'm really picky with those thingies! >.<
