Post a preview of your own writing!

Don't deny you've written something. I've read enough "MeiLin, do you have advice for starting a web serial?" comments to know that there's a fair number of you out there. Blum 3

I personally suspect I'll never have the self discipline to write a serial; I've already told myself that I have to have at least a 50 page buffer before starting anything, and the odds of that happening are almost nil. But I'd still be interested in seeing what people here thought of my writing, cause these forums are my first thought when it comes to (occasionally brutally) honest opinions. And I'm curious to see what kinds of stories other people are thinking of posting as serials Smile

Just to get things started, a glimpse into what I first thought I'd use as a web serial if I ever did write one: this story.

Of course, I've lately been feeling like the world's not built enough in my head (and the characters are TOO built and annoyingly disobedient) and have started on this story instead.

Constructive criticism appreciated. Snippets from other peoples' novels energetically welcomed, along with hugs, champagne and chocolates for feeding my endless reading appetite.

kinesthe's picture

ill post some of my stuff later, but not right now as i dont have it to hand at the moment
in case i dont, someone remind me at please

Vandole's picture


I'll bite. This is the beginning of a story that never really got off the ground. It was pretty much a blatant X-men ripoff anyway.

A man wearing a black business suit stepped into the school's office. He was tall, nearly 6' 5", and was built athletically. He wore dark sports sunglasses and his short platinum hair was spiked at the front. He walked smoothly to the secretary's desk, his stride betraying confidence.
"I'd like to see Mr. Hawthorne," he said with a cool and relaxing voice.
"Mr. Hawthorne is busy right now," said the secretary curtly, "You'll have to make an appointment to see him later, sir"
"It's urgent. Please, just let me talk to him. It won't be long," he pleaded.
"I said, he's busy," the secretary said sternly, "NO one can see him. If you persist, I'll have to ask you to leave." The man cursed.
"You don't understand. This is very important government business. I don't have the time to wait for him”
"Get out of this office! If you don't leave on your own, I will have the custodian escort you out!" the secretary threatened him. The man's lip curled in frustration. They stared at each other.
"Ms. Stevenson, what's going on? Why are you yelling?" asked a man who had popped his head out of a doorway.
"Mr. Hawthorne, this man insists on seeing you," she said, "I told him you were busy with very important paperwork, but he won't excuse himself." Hawthorne’s eyes seemed to jump out of their sockets.
"This is a..." he searched for the right words, "A special case. Please, come in."
The man smiled subtly as he walked into Mr. Hawthorne's office. Hawthorne shut the door behind him and locked it. He began pacing.
"What are you doing here, Jacobs?" he demanded.
"Just visiting a friend. What, you're not happy to see me?" Jacobs retorted.
"No, I'm not happy. You don't 'visit a friend' almost eighteen years later," Hawthorne answered.
"CSIS has been keeping me busy,"
"Bullshit. You're here because CSIS wants something from me,"
"You're as sharp as ever,"
"Just tell me what they want,"
"They want to know about the children, where they are, who they are now - we need to keep them safe,"
"They've been safe for eighteen years without them. Tell the truth, Jacobs. They want to experiment with them,"
"That would violate their charter rights,"
"You think they care about that? Those scientists are so immoral, they wouldn't think twice about popping one of them open, just to see what Krausler did to them,"
"There's been a development,"
"A development?"
"We received intelligence that some one has revived the Krausler project," Jacobs said. Hawthorne blanched.
"So you can see," he continued, "Why we suddenly feel the need to ensure their safety." Hawthorne nodded.
"If an agent so much as lays a hand on one of them, you'll make an enemy of me," said Hawthorne harshly, "Understand? This is non-negotiable. They are not to know what they are or why you're protecting them, unless it becomes necessary for their safety."
"I get the picture. This is a serious matter. Serious enough that Big Boss wants to talk to you," said Jacobs. Hawthorne swore under his breath. He had wanted to avoid the director of CSIS.
"Fine. Let's go," he said, grabbing his coat from its hook. The two men walked out of the school.
"Where are you going, sir?" Ms. Stevenson asked as they exited his office.
"Out on important business. I'll be gone for the rest of the day," he said as he went by. She gave him a bewildered look, but he was already out the door.

Blue Coyote's picture


Well since it doesn't seem as if Meilin minds us doing this...
I have a novel I'm working on (actually suposed to be co-writing with two others, but I'm so sick of waiting on one of them that I'm propbly just going to do their part too) I'm not sure if it's really web-serial material, but I really do hope to get it published somehow.
Sort of a Historical/Fantasy/Steam-punk story about a Native-American who is kidnapped by Vikings and dragged off to Europe and how he gets embroiled in politics there when all he wants is to get home.
The Holy Roman Empire has never fallen, but it has also not expanded as far as it did in our world. Priests can call on God's power to heal their own and to smite their enemies. But so can Rabbis and the Mullahs, and the Druids can call upon their God and Goddess.
Over in the Americas, the only European contact has been the Norsevegr. In the North the Cahokian and Aniyunwiya rule, the middle is held by the Arrawok and the Aztek, and the south the vast Incan Empire.
Chapter one
part one
part two
part three
part four

Marri's picture


Wait, are we not supposed to post things about our own writing? I mean, I understand if she doesn't want people posting ads or teasers for their own serials, but hopefully a couple paragraphs of things that are just personal writing are ok...

-worries now-

-worries too much-

-worries anyway-

As for commentary:

Vandole, I'm intrigued about what exactly "Krausler" did, but I'm (a shallow person and) dependent on first impressions. Tweak the beginning a little to make it more of a hook?

Blue Coyote, very interesting so far and I really like the way you've thought out the world, but I'm still a tiny bit confused as to how the slave trade goes unnoticed. If the Indians are so suspicious of the Vikings that they require down payments and vouchers, shouldn't they inspect the ship as well? Not noticing a couple Indian slaves would be hard... and failing to notice that people go missing whenever Vikings are in town probably equally difficult.

Blue Coyote's picture


Thanks for reading and commenting, I really want to do something with this, I have tons and tons of background and a good five years storytime planned. I appreciate any pointers of things that seem out of place or unexplained. Or things you might want better gone over.
There is slavery on both sides of the ocean to more or less degrees. The Indians do keep some slaves, and sometimes sell them. Although it usually is war-captives(which are Norse) which they sell to the Vikings, they don't like to sell other Indians because they think they eat them. But the Aniyunwiya also war with the Arrawok and Seminole and there are criminals of course. They can legitimately have bought Indian slaves... however grabbing a drunk college student on your way out of port isn't exactly that.
I've actually started my part of chapter two, and I guess I'll just keep going until I get to the point where the characters meet. Unless you have suggestions for anything that should be changed or added to? Should I start earlier? I've been toying with a story set three years earlier in the life of the main character. A little bit before he gets his adult name and starts college. I thought it might intro a little bit better how there is this blend of some things being very traditional and primative and some things advanced and some things magical. Religious power has always worked, magical power has waxed and waned. In the past magic was very powerful and twisted the world and animals and there were great battles between mages and priests. All the things in legends are not that far exagerated if at all. Then there was a long period where magic faded and religous powers gained dominance, but mostly fought with each other. But then their powers began to decline as well and people of cleverness and tinkerers and engeneers became important. Then 119 years ago the Event happened, magic expoded back into the world, changing people, animals and even landscapes, and opening up the Spiritways again and renewing all the priests powers. Which has of course gotten more wars started back up, but also gotten more people to work together than ever had before, and now there is also a blending of magic and science(which is terribly cool and detailed and supposed to be done by Distractable, who is writing like three other things!).
Chapter two
part one

MeiLin's picture

Most High

Of course you can point to your own stuff.

Blue Coyote's picture


I assume that links to things we've got posted elsewhere are best? As they won't eat your bandwidth or anything? And thank you for letting us air our humble scratchings. I've only got an art-page and nobody there hardly looks at writings.

Marri who is too lazy to login's picture

Personally, I rather liked the starting point; if the focus of the story is his kidnapping and subsequent arrival into the Viking culture, I feel like much more background past what you already have would just detract from the main plotline. Going ack a day or two, for example, might be ok, or even a prologue (though as a rule I hate them and think they're unnecessary), but not a couple years. The point of the story is the kidnapping, not the religion.

Blue Coyote's picture


Yeah, I thought it was best to start with the action, only show a glimpse into what his everyday life is like then throw him to the proverbial sharks. And he actually winds up among the Norman French, and I need to intro a couple of more charcters. I'm sort of writing this a bit out of order here. I've started the next chapter but there is supposed to be anothoer two parts in the first chapter. But they don't meet until four, so I'm thinking I can stick them in when I get them(or rather when I give up waiting and write it all myself).
I like the little prequel bit, but if it's important I can flashback it... it dosen't really have much to do with the story til later.

thellieem11's picture


I've got some poetry, a few essays, a few short stories and the final short story in an unfinished collection of short stories about one character up on, which is an amazing place if anyone's interested.

Be Happy For Me - - Main character, Violet (Vi) is celebrating her wedding day and contemplating her decisions that led up to that day. It haunts me still. I have the story before this one about 2/3 done, and it's been that way for about 10 months now. I'm writing them in reverse order for some odd reason, that's how they are coming to me.

Winter of the Heart - - a short story about a man saying goodbye to his late wife and child. Written quite a few years ago now. I had to deliver this to a group of about 30 people and by the time I was done, there was not a dry eye in the crowd, not even mine. Emotional, but not the best quality writing ever.

The Blizzard - - One of my favorite poems of my own. I wrote this for my Christmas cards a few years ago. The last stanza isn't perfect, but I'm happy with it.

Greatest Mystery - - A story in less than 10 words.

The Figurine - - An essay on my connections to the grandmother that I never knew.

Everything! - - Everything I have posted on

I hope anyone who reads this enjoys it. Feedback is more than welcome either on there, here or e-mailed to me (thellieem11athotmail).

Shade's picture


I did NaNoWriMo last year, so I've got 50,000+ words of a novel, lol.
There's the excerpt I have on the site, if anybody wants to read more they can e-mail me (gingerbreadninja (swirly location sign) Be warned though, it's rather messy :P. I haven't had the stones to go back and edit the whole thing. It's about a few students in a rogue's guild that's masquerading as cartographers and scribes (because seriously, what government would allow a rogue's guild to exist? That and nobody expects scribes to do anything), and their connection in the war between the gods that's been going on for time unending, etc. The gods keep starting time over on the planet and the people are starting to realize it's been happening.

I also do slam poetry and competitions, stuff like that. There's an open mic night at the uni I'm attending coming up next week, so I'm thinking about cobbling together some poems (or I might just revert to my standby of homosexual lobster/sea cucumber love. It's epic).

Toss me an e-mail if you'd like to read the stuff, I guess.

Nye's picture


These are more than 10 years old now, but they're the only things up online. A couple short stories, though most of what I wrote was poetry in those years. The last link is a small batch of poems.

AceTachyon's picture

I'm currently working on a serial, due to launch in December.

Here's a brief scene:
I got out of the car as the figure--a fortyish Japanese corpgeek--scrambled to his feet.

"You okay?" I said.

He spun toward me and recoiled, fear etched on his face.

Typical reaction. It's not everyday that a meter-ninety of dark-haired Amazon hits you with an antiquated car, then gets out and comes over for a closer look.

I stopped and held up both hands, palms out. "Easy. I don't bite."

Mouse, my partner and fellow ronin, came up beside me, short brown hair pulled back into a stumpy ponytail, a few stray locks always spilling across her forehead. Her black leather trenchcoat billowed cape-like around her. "Yo, choom," she said to the corpgeek. "No worries. We come in peace."

My optic clock read: 22:45:33.

"Little late to be out jogging, isn't it?" I asked.

"He's letting off steam," said Mouse. She inclined her head to the corpgeek. "Whatsa matter? Bad karaoke?"

The man looked past us, let out a strangled yelp, and stumbled back, hitting the curb and falling on his ass.

I pivoted.

As I did, the Twins, Bonnie and Clyde--my pair of Colt-Springfield 2000 .45-caliber high-capacity pistols--leaped into my hands from the double-holster shoulder rig underneath my black leather biker jacket.

At the same time, I heard metal sing out as Mouse's wakizashis whipped from the scabbards beneath her coat.

Japanese short swords.

Mouse loves her pointy toys.

A figure strode out of a nearby alley, jungle cat slow, and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Tall male. Leanly muscled beneath black fatigues. Face covered by a black balacalava.

And glowing red eyes--

What the hell?

I popped my optics to thermograph.

What I didn't see made the hairs on the back of my neck bristle.

Aside from optics and what looked like bone lacing, nothing.


Yet he gave off an air of tightly restrained violence.

I've run into my share of both highly trained fighters and outright psychos. But this guy was something else entirely.

Bad news.

Just my luck.

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