Writing a story (help need ideas)

[ondrugz]

I love movies and tv shows with great writing(the sopranos,the wire, entorage) and lateley ive been thinkin what the hell i might as well put some work into writing a story and see where it goes so i was just wondering if you guys could share any crazy,funny,scary,bad,dramatic stories i dont care if its real or fake as long as you think its worth posting if i ever write a good enough story to turn it into a script ill send all you guys a oz. of dank

thanx guys

[Venomous Puffer]

Whenever I write i always write in 1st person, i always feel the need to get inside the mind of the character and i love writing as people that have major issues or problems that are going on inside of their head. Two stories that i wrote that i enioyed writing were about a bank robbery and the other was about a pathological arsonist

[Pelican]

I always thought of the idea of having a guy and girl who are young and in love etc. and they do a lot of drugs with eachother. Well after awhile the girl OD's or something and she dies. So, The guy puts her body in the car and goes to drive to her parents house when a drunk driver crashes into their car and send the guy to the hospital. He wakes up and everyone thinks the girl was killed from the car crash and no one has any idea that they abused drugs and shit. So the guy never tells anyone and turns his life around.

There are some gray areas

[MorningTrip]

Make up your own super hero.

For example: I've got this awesome idea for a super hero comedy; It's about an alcoholic priest who carries two revolvers and fights crime with "holy bullets"... if he can shoot straight.

[ondrugz]

good idea pelican i was thinkin a story with a bunch of shit happening like pulp fiction and crash

[ElectricHead]

If you can tell a lie, you can come up with a great story.

Just go with it: The way I write, I just sit down and whatever flows forth... just flows forth. I've been writting for a number of years now, though.

[mrtwomuchskill]

Originally Posted by ElectricHead

If you can tell a lie, you can come up with a great story.

Just go with it: The way I write, I just sit down and whatever flows forth... just flows forth. I've been writting for a number of years now, though.

how much do you actually get paid for being a writer thought about it as a profession

[mrtwomuchskill]

But let me try to help I guess you could write a story about a group of friends who take a road trip and start taking Acid and shrooms and shit and then get lost in the woods or desert and then a killer starts stalking them but the killer is really a sick demented school teacher who lost his kids to drugs and wants to punish kids for taking drugs by killing them

[-mu]

ondrugz, we could just write it here. Someone starts and then someone else does the next bit, and so on. When you sell the global right, half an Oz of dank for everyone!

[We just need to come up with a theme, something to connect the heaps of events, like crash, and then we could all add a scene. Like, erm, events which had a significant impact on our lives, but weren't real, because we were fucked up on drugs at the time. Or maybe just drugs as the theme.

Maybe they could flow on from each other, like that crazy Canadian movie that moves continuously from character to character; after a while you give up trying to get back to linear storytelling and just go with it.

It starts with a guy coming out of an airport, or was it a bus station, and getting into a taxi. But our story could start with a guy, coming out of his dealer's house. Yeah! I like that. It could be a whole load of first-person narrative type things, strung together by mere "coincedence"...]

I froze, my heart reminds me. Instant adrenalin rush. Cautious, remembering I'm outside her door still, I casually slide my hand in my pocket. Got it. Instant relief. Everything else is replaceable, the 24/7 shop fully exploiting the fact that daylight robbery doesn't apply at 4am, even at midday.

[And he starts to tell the taxi driver that there's another reality, an alternative reality where he didn't get into a taxi, but instead met a beautiful girl, and the taxi driver's having none of it, and that sets the scene. But in our story, we need an event that sets the scene for a multi-dimensional reality, something that pulls us from one reality to the next, or back...]

Free now. Ahh. Letting the cool night fill my lungs. Two puffs is all I had, but there's no doubt, this isn't the same night I was in five minutes ago. Two puffs! I wrap my hand around the baggie, which gives off an etheral glow, like one of those hand-warmers. I can think of only two things. Home, and a bong of this bud.

Nothing's moving. All the sounds are distant, far-off. I make my legs move like walking and head off. One-two, one-two, yes, I can do this, at least for a quarter mile I can. I remember my legs from yesterday, they worked fine. Two puffs. This drought has been one big long tolerance break, I guess, and that comforts me as I try to figure out her garden gate. There's a handle there, and I think it goes up then left, or is it down-

"John!" [because it's a common enough name for a character]

I froze. And I don't know why. She has a pretty voice, sounds like she looks, and Bob used to say. What happened to Bob, anyway? I should ask her. Seems like months since-

"I almost forgot"

"What?"

"Bob called"

I'm not psychic, maybe I'm just pretending. Or maybe this is some sort of haze shit, or something. Did she just say Bob called?

"Bob Called?"

"Yeah. He was asking for you"

"He was asking for me, or he said 'Tell him I'm asking for him'?" Which is something I'd been dying to try out since I thought of it. I'd expected a laugh maybe, but she was having to thinkabout it. Not remember, but consider it, like it was her question to answer. I got this weird shiver up my spine there and started to back towards the gate.

"Cool. He's okay then. Excellent" And I just jumped it. She was gonna ask something, but for some inexplicable reason, I didn't want to hear it. It was like she had just revealed her fangs to me, or something. Fangs. What made me think of that, I wondered, and then noticed the moon. Full. More coincedence!

I heard Sarah's door click gently closed behind me. Did she go in? Or is she standing there, watching me? My feet catch up with my heart and I don't care, putting yards between us, oblivious, breathing one-two, one-two. Free, for real this time, striding into the cool, crisp night...

[And then the story could get scary, or romantic, or whatever. It could be with her now (she could be a killer, a friend, an informant, who knows?), or some dude that John passes, or bumps into. Bob may be a Satanist, coke-fiend, or dead. Or we may never hear of him again. Perhaps a seemingly unconnected series of scores and pick-ups, and the journeys home.

In other words, just let it roll.]

-mu