What do you think| 10 Year Difference in Writing

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Tonight I was looking through my Old stories, trying to find the origin of one of my best characters. The Ten Year "Frenchie Purple"... Feels weird writing her name on a Forum, because I've always been so protective.
And indeed, back in 2014, when I was just getting into writing, I mustered up a story named "Sannah" a Bizarre Action Story more about Man-Made things feeling emotions. Being Human more so. Frenchie was a side character.
Looking at one of the most poignant moments in the story, which has since changed. I was astonished. While it still effects me, it was written so... Okay here it is, the 2014 snippet of that moment.
“Max breathed hard.

He looked to his daughter, then to his world.

To God’s world.

“Beautiful Trees…..”

He died.

Frenchie cried”- 2014, SANNAH
Ignoring the context, to me it's kind of hilarious, and also fascinating. So, comparing it to my current writing. I decided on random, to rewrite this moment, though it'd be invalid to current story lore. I still did.
“Each inhale pulled forth less, each exhale grew more ragged, more harsh until there was nothing to expel. Save his own soul, yet in Max there was still a chance, ever a chance in his mind. To make the little girl afore him, laugh, and smile. It was why he raised her here, because of the “Funny Mushrooms, and Talking Plants” as she would always say. Because “Daddy always the best to be around.”.

He could not believe it, that he was not allowed breath, but he was allowed tears, tears amidst the sharp pain. From the cold metal borne deep into his flesh, his organs, and bones. And then there was a harsh warmth, and coldness.

He gasped as his daughter shook him. His eyes fluttered open so easily it seemed, yet to him it took all he had, what little he had left. He could not see a thing, yet he knew that Little Frenchie was still with him, waiting for one more joke, one more trip, one more sight to see. One more word from her dad.

He tilted his head, toward where the landscape would be, it most certainly would be there, he would never forget it. He pointed, and knowing she would laugh, the vision of the luminescent mushrooms which dwarfed sequoias, and the gelatinous imitations of grass beneath them. He smiled and uttered, his last words. Ones he remembered from long ago, when upon his shoulders sat that same little girl, who never changed in his eyes. His little “Frenchie Purple”, the “All that was” in his life.

“Beautiful Trees, right?”

His hand fell, from pointing toward the ceiling, not the window to his left. His head, having never turned. Frenchie looked upwards for but, a moment, and when she looked down, there was her father’s face. Unmoving, Smiling, drenched in his own blood, yet still as perfect as it always had been.

She remembered that moment. How she laughed, and laughed, and told her “Stupid” father they were “Mushrooms”. And how he said, “You say mushrooms, I say Trees.”. She remembered the back and forth which went on for many minutes, afore he sat her down to her favorite food, and watched with her, her favorite movie, and listened to all her commentary on her favorite music.

It would never happen again.

Her head raised, she cackled, she laughed, until she could not breathe, and she was retching. Then she sobbed and held tightly to her father. Whose last words were an attempt to soothe her. Glaring out to the “Trees”, all she could see was that moment.

Of being with the greatest father in the cosmos. Who was no longer there.” - 2024, Rewrite
21 words to nearly 500... Recently I've been beating myself up, thinking my writing is uninteresting, simple, that my stories are rough. I think I'm giving myself too much of a hard time. You know those 21 words back then took hours to devise? And these nearly 500 took not even 15 minutes?
Furthermore, I've always been a "Softie", so I'm not a good judge, but the moment now reinforces the tragedy of it, and brings me to tears almost. This Young Lady, just lost her dad! You feel it now, he not wanting to go, she not wanting him to leave. It's painful.
I mean, it's sadistic to think and use this as example but... I'm amazed... What Ten Years have done. Let's see... I'm 21 now, I was 11 then! It's... soothing...
Arguably, the moment to where he looks to his world "God's World" is lost, but it's replaced with something far more important. Making his daughter laugh. And in death, she saw his spirit off with laughs aplenty until she could laugh no more.
It's heartbreaking... And conflictingly, exemplar to me... I've actually... Heh, Done something you know... All these years meant something!​
 
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Welp it's pretty well written. You understood how to write a story not just write facts, that's how I feel it.

Do you have a story somewhere where we can read more of your work(s)?
 
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Welp it's pretty well written. You understood how to write a story not just write facts, that's how I feel it.

Do you have a story somewhere where we can read more of your work(s)?
Not just yet, but at some point I'll probably post one of the many projects on Namicomi, since I see some people post actual book chapters there and not just manga. If I'm going to advance, I need other people to see, that is for certain.
 
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I think writing has changed a lot in the past 10 years, especially with the rise of digital platforms and social media. Writing is more accessible, diverse, and interactive than ever before. Writers can reach a wider audience, collaborate with other creators, and get instant feedback from their readers. However, writing also faces some challenges, such as plagiarism, misinformation, and censorship. Writers need to be more careful about their sources, their ethics, and their rights. Writing is still a powerful and creative form of expression, but it also requires more responsibility and awareness.
 
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I think writing has changed a lot in the past 10 years, especially with the rise of digital platforms and social media. Writing is more accessible, diverse, and interactive than ever before. Writers can reach a wider audience, collaborate with other creators, and get instant feedback from their readers. However, writing also faces some challenges, such as plagiarism, misinformation, and censorship. Writers need to be more careful about their sources, their ethics, and their rights. Writing is still a powerful and creative form of expression, but it also requires more responsibility and awareness.
Indeed, nowadays it's like there's some real world agenda being pushed. But, I think the word agenda in this sense has been misconstrued. A Theme or Meaning is a sort of a agenda, not all agendas are bad things, a story can't mean nothing. Which is why It's a bit weird sometimes to judge something on it's message. Of course there're negative and positive messages, but nowadays the lines are blurring from things all can understand like Love or Loss, to This Way or That Way for example.

Luckily, when it comes to my writing I strive for uniquity and posing no message which I believe could be misperceived. The most dangerous message/theme I went for is the intricate one this particular scene I selected belonged to. The Story focuses on Said Frenchie who was prophesized to be basically the Messiah of the Cosmos in that time period, but the nations all wanted the power she was destined to receive for their own endeavors. So was everyone chases her, and eventually, trying to save her captured father amidst it all, she's forced into this power, and offered the weight of being the only one who can kill the big bad of the series. her dad dies, she's lost her innocence in being forced into this power, the growing expectations of everyone who just wanted her dead a moment ago.
When she inevitably faces the Big Bad, who is a classic character from previous stories who took on the spirits of Foul Gods who dominated his form to be stronger. He finally fights through and talks with her before he dies. Both were robbed of their identity, innocence, who they truly were. So in his final moments, he asks her, though he is a good man, to kill him, there's no saving him, he's corrupted. He's commanded the enemy forces poorly, held them back, but if he continues, it will change.
He wants to die, to not kill anymore, to remain in the eyes of someone a kind person like he used to be. So she offers him that, and with her mission complete, she realizes how she can return to who she was. By disappearing. She fulfilled the prophecy imposed, her part was done.
It's not the most hopeful message, but I did it as a sort of... response to power tropes and whatnot. We've seen both sides, someone wanting the power, and someone not wanting it, inevitably in recent stories it all amounts to an acceptance of that power, because it's "A Part of them". But, this version depicts what the power was, a perversion upon an innocent existence. She can never be rid the power, but she no longer has to play the game. The whole message is "Define Yourself" I suppose in the end, even though neither the Big Bad nor Frenchie were themselves in the end, the Big Bad: Wrull, died knowing he wouldn't hurt anyone else. Frenchie departed, knowing she could return to living a carefree life.

It's message and theme is clear in the end, and it's something everyone can applicate to. It's not catered to one or another, but to all who feel trapped or sullied by someone else's definition of their own self. Nowadays I feel like most stories don't go in this direction. Instead of wishing to reach and be understood by all (Applicability), nowadays most stories are written in anger, or to cater toward one division in life, affirming that division and thus keeping us divided.
It's a sad thing, and I hope someday more writers will return to Applicability. But, while their attempts are sometimes vulgar. It's important they exist so a clear distinction is formed. Between the truth behind stories for all, and the stories for one. The fact that more can write is swell, it's inevitable positive, negative effects would rise. But, while we could complain about the negative and misinforming, there isn't truly something we can do, besides continuing to make stories with positive, applicable meanings. And hopefully, we can inspire others toward the same.
 
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I've got a sort of off topic question for you.

Do you remember starting to become more verbose with the way you respond in conversations at a certain age?

I ask because I remember when I entered high school and finally actively understood more concepts (I loved to read, but not books) I could articulate my thoughts more (an ability which I feel sadly retarded after some family stuff happened during the pandemic) and it affected my writing as well!


Very interesting comparison, keep on it!
 
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I've got a sort of off topic question for you.

Do you remember starting to become more verbose with the way you respond in conversations at a certain age?

I ask because I remember when I entered high school and finally actively understood more concepts (I loved to read, but not books) I could articulate my thoughts more (an ability which I feel sadly retarded after some family stuff happened during the pandemic) and it affected my writing as well!


Very interesting comparison, keep on it!
Actually yes, there was a point in time where I would just say anything that came to mind, and drone on and on. And it didn't become apparent to me I was doing so until I noticed someone else doing it when I was 14, and began writing seriously. I'd write some comedic conversations as well but, noticed they weren't going anywhere, or were too simple. Then I began reevaluating my own words. And of course, sometime later my own writing. Actually, contrary to what one might think, I don't speak at all like I write, often times I don't speak much at all. But, that's because of unintentional discouragements throughout my life. But, I don't regret those discouragements. While sometimes unintentional or outright blatant and rude, it made me think about everything.
It's why, in particular in my writing I pay attention particularly to dialogue to make sure the point is made, or alluded if either or is intended.
 

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