Howdy fellow Escapists. I've decided that I want to have a crack at this writing thing(for fun) that the kids are talking about. And I know that you lot have a good bit of savvy when it comes to creative writing. So what tips would you give to someone that is just starting out? Anything that I should avoid?
I'm hoping you can give me some feedback on what I've already got(Just a couple of paragraphs with wonky grammar), I want to know what your thoughts on my writing style and stuff are. If you want to know what my story is going to be about, it's a comedy short story about an agent that works for a department of a (outer-space)government agency concerned with fixing errors that arise in a planets timeline. Initially he is going to prevent the death of Jimi Hendrix but I'm going to make it seem as though he has stumbled onto something of ultimate importance, which in the end turns out to be just another drop in the ocean of the universe(why? because it's comedy haha). A side story(well sort of) is that he's going to inspire Neil Young to write the song Ride My Llama(I reference this in the last line of the story).
I'm hoping you can give me some feedback on what I've already got(Just a couple of paragraphs with wonky grammar), I want to know what your thoughts on my writing style and stuff are. If you want to know what my story is going to be about, it's a comedy short story about an agent that works for a department of a (outer-space)government agency concerned with fixing errors that arise in a planets timeline. Initially he is going to prevent the death of Jimi Hendrix but I'm going to make it seem as though he has stumbled onto something of ultimate importance, which in the end turns out to be just another drop in the ocean of the universe(why? because it's comedy haha). A side story(well sort of) is that he's going to inspire Neil Young to write the song Ride My Llama(I reference this in the last line of the story).
It's the year 1953, I sit here in my dingy, roach infested office, the wallpaper barely on the walls, the smashed window brings in a ?lovely? breeze in the summer time as well as a the sublime stink of the sewers. This place is truly the lowest rung on the ladder of life. I sit desperately staring at my Communicator(cunningly disguised as a cigarette case) waiting for my next job to come in. You may be asking yourself, what misdeed could have doomed me to this forsaken hell hole of a planet. The answer is one Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster too many at the Christmas party. A sequence of events that night led to me pulling the assistant director of the Planetary Time Investigation Bureau?s trousers down, briefs and all, in front of the whole department, he was not a happy man, however, that is a story for another time. Some might say that I was lucky not to have been kicked out of the bureau entirely, I was instead demoted and assigned to the second most insignificant planet in our universe, Earth.
While answering that first question I may have raised another important question, what it is that I exactly do. I work for the Planetary Time Investigation Bureau(PTIB for short), this organisation monitors a planet's fabric of time for any changes or abnormalities no matter how insignificant. When something is amiss in the fabric of time, our analysts figure out where, and by where I mean when, the discrepancy lies. An agent is then sent in to fix it and bring the culprit to justice. It all sounds very exciting doesn't it? You are of course, incorrect. In the grand scheme of things Earth is of very little significance to the rest of the universe and thus the penalty for fucking about with its fabric of time are a mere slap on the wrist. Because this is the case and the fact that time travel devices are so widely available, in most cases the culprit is just some bored, rich daddy?s boy from the Alpha Centauri system, filling one of earth's many nutjobs heads with conspiracies in order to cause the assassination of one of earth's famous figures.
My Communicator begins to ring -yes it rings, a Communicator disguised as a cigarette case rings. Genius- I flip open the case. A distorted image is displayed on the Communicators screen, it is my handler, at this low level in the pyramid that I have been reduced to I am not authorised to view my handler's face. My handler informs me that an individual is has, well is going to, murder a Mr James Marshall Hendrix. Well, it looks like I'm going to the year 1965, it could be worse I suppose. Maybe I'll visit Neil Young while I'm there and play him some travelling songs...
While answering that first question I may have raised another important question, what it is that I exactly do. I work for the Planetary Time Investigation Bureau(PTIB for short), this organisation monitors a planet's fabric of time for any changes or abnormalities no matter how insignificant. When something is amiss in the fabric of time, our analysts figure out where, and by where I mean when, the discrepancy lies. An agent is then sent in to fix it and bring the culprit to justice. It all sounds very exciting doesn't it? You are of course, incorrect. In the grand scheme of things Earth is of very little significance to the rest of the universe and thus the penalty for fucking about with its fabric of time are a mere slap on the wrist. Because this is the case and the fact that time travel devices are so widely available, in most cases the culprit is just some bored, rich daddy?s boy from the Alpha Centauri system, filling one of earth's many nutjobs heads with conspiracies in order to cause the assassination of one of earth's famous figures.
My Communicator begins to ring -yes it rings, a Communicator disguised as a cigarette case rings. Genius- I flip open the case. A distorted image is displayed on the Communicators screen, it is my handler, at this low level in the pyramid that I have been reduced to I am not authorised to view my handler's face. My handler informs me that an individual is has, well is going to, murder a Mr James Marshall Hendrix. Well, it looks like I'm going to the year 1965, it could be worse I suppose. Maybe I'll visit Neil Young while I'm there and play him some travelling songs...