So...June is almost over...and I haven't posted anything all month. Sorry about that! I was kind of dealing with a wave of depression for the past two and a half weeks, which really killed all of my artistic drive. It happens more often than I'd like, but this is the longest lasting one I've had in a while... Plus, in the middle of that, I've been looking for a job, and no one wants to hire me. That hasn't helped much. >_> But I'm okay, so don't worry! So without further grumblings about my mentality, have a meme that I was tagged in a month ago! |D
Tagged by SeekeroftheLeviathan
1. Introduce yourself of course. Tell us a few interests; perhaps why you're here on Deviantart, or why you choose to write instead of draw (or both).
Hey there! I'm Nara/Raine, and to some, also Henchman (Henchy for short). I love anything having to do with art! Drawing, Writing, Music, Acting...you name it! I also love reading and playing video games, mostly RPGs. Anything that will give me a good story and a decent escape every now and then is awesome! I'm on DA because, as I mentioned, I love art, and I love to share my creations with the community that has inspired me and helped me grow for so many years. Whether I write or draw more depends on when you ask. It fluctuates, really.
2. Hmmm, that is interesting. Now that the formalities are out of the way, what do you write? (Poetry, stories, etc.)
Well, I started out writing poetry, but I've kind of moved away from that and moved more towards prose. I mostly write fantasy and science-fictions now! Someday I'll finish a serious story. Someday.
3. I see, I see. Well, so what do you like to write about? Go on, don't be shy about it. Nobody's judging you.
Hm, well...I prefer to focus on the mental experience. Like...what are the characters feeling? What are their opinions of the setting/situation? I usually write with minimal objective detail, building settings and other things through subjective opinion instead. I kind of paint the story one stroke at a time. The reader might not quite see the full picture at first, but in the end, everything falls into place. I don't know if that makes sense...but that's what I do! I feel like my style of writing makes the readers feel more, y'know? I'm a very feelsy person. It might be the poetry background bleeding into the prose...who knows?
I also like to make characters that struggle with their grasp of good and evil. I don't like clear-cut hero/villain scenarios in my own writing.
4. I wasn't quite expecting that from you, and think that I thought I knew you. Ok then, how did you really get into writing?
Poetry started when I first started dealing with depression, in middle school. It was how I vented my feelings. Heck, it still is. I would say I got into the story aspect when I surrounded myself with friends that enjoyed writing prose. (Looking at you, Overlord.) But really, I've always loved writing. My parents were always so shocked how quickly I could whip out poem after poem, short story after short story at such a young age. They weren't good at first, of course, but the desire to write was always there.
5. Oh, I can probably relate that. You talked about why, what, and how, so, when did you really start writing?
Hm. That's a good question. I started experimenting with simple rhyming poems almost as soon as I could read and write. But I didn't seriously start writing decent poetry until seventh or eighth grade. I was writing stupid little short stories in elementary school, but I actually started trying with my story writing around Freshman or Sophomore year.
6. That long ago, really? Alright, one last little question, who got you into writing? Did you get inspired by an author, or maybe someone just got the idea into your head to write?
As I've said, the desire has always been there. Friends have inspired me, as well as good stories. I can't remember any specific ones right now, though. I guess I always had those "imaginary friends" that I loved to discover more and more about, too. In fact, a lot of my characters today are just very very skewed images of those characters that I had in my head long ago. XD And, as I also said before, it is my outlet for my emotions. I'm not very good at verbal communication, but if I can write my feelings down, then I can very quickly get my point across. As soon as I discovered that, I couldn't stop writing. I finally felt that I understood a large part of myself.
7. Ok, ok. I suppose that's enough of 20 Questions. So why don't you go ahead and show us a paragraph or a few lines of a poem (but it's gotta be original for this, don't think I won't be watching!)
Hm. Considering the fact that I haven't written poetry since the beginning of high school, I'm gonna stick with prose. Okay? Okay. :]
Have some of Sarya's story! This is where she's dealing with the reality of her situation! But, as is the case with most of my current writing, this is just a rough draft, so keep that in mind, please. ><Sarya could feel the lump swelling in her throat as she looked down at the communicator screen. Trypp said this was a low-end contract. 4,000 credits for one bullet. It would be an easy kill for decent pay.
The more she turned the word over in her mind, the more the lump grew. She had to kill a man in order to survive. This was what she repeated to herself. That this was all just a means of survival. But she remembered the lessons her tutors had taught her. Life is precious. Even in the story books that her maids read to her at night showed that.
Why would anyone want to kill somebody? Don't they know it's wrong? She remembered those questions on her young lips as if they were only spoken days ago. "Killing is just what bad guys do," she could hear the voice of Grisella, her favorite maidservant, answering her questions when she was young and curious.
Then what did that make her now?
Her hand slid down to her hip, where her fingertips met cold, heartless metal. She felt as if a heavy ball-and-chain had been tethered around her waist, pressing down on her hip in an attempt to break her. Yet she continued to walk on numb feet to the location of her contract's hiding place. This man was a criminal. He deserved to pay for whatever he had done. She had told herself every half-truth she could think of to harden her resolve, but nothing worked. As her head swam in doubt, she found her way to the contract's hideout, feet subconsciously shuffling into what she knew had to be done. A glow of dim light rose from the back corner of the warehouse-like building, various loading crates blocking her view of her target. Her stomach churned as she brought her ball-and-chain out of its holster and into her sweat-slick palms, pulling back the hammer with a slow click. She was hunting a criminal. She needed the money. The hollow feeling in her stomach was enough to remind her of that. She needed
the money. He was really the one in the wrong. He had it coming to him. She crept slowly around the boxes, careful to avoid the debris on the ground that would give her away, until she finally had a visual of her target. She rose the ball-and-chain level with the target's torso, her finger trembling against the trigger guard as sweat formed on the back of her neck and slowly dripped down her spine.
Just pull the trigger, Sarya, she mentally prodded.
You need to eat. You need to live.
So it's a bit...er...a lot...longer than a paragraph. So what? XD
8. Ah, quite touching. I suppose that's all I can really say for this one dear writer within this art site. If you know any other writers, feel free to forc....erm..."politely ask" any other writes you know here, to give their hand at filling this thing out.