Passion
Fueled
- Joined
- Nov 16, 2018
- Location
- Fever Dreams
Lol, I got Anne Rice too.
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Who Do You Write Like?
- Thread starter Vyce
- Start date
I put in two short paragraphs, one about self bondage and one about hypnosis, and they came back Harry Harrison. Which I don't really have strong feelings about.
Three longer stories, one sword and sorcery, one pulp vigilante, one horror, and they all came back Agatha Christie. Which is flattering.
Three longer stories, one sword and sorcery, one pulp vigilante, one horror, and they all came back Agatha Christie. Which is flattering.
Blobbles
Moon
- Joined
- Oct 30, 2019
XD - do you roleplay economic and political discussions in your more serious RPs? No judging - I still want that RP where the the characters are anthromorphic representations of the citizenry on one end, and the government on the other
At any rate, I'm becoming pretty sure it's more a matter of vocab than style, generally - with a few samples last night I got everything from JK Rowling, Stephanie Myer, Dan Brown, and more (this all from snippets from the same RP, I mean)
I submitted the following slab of writing:
And got the following results:
Anne Rice x6
Which is interesting, because I submitted the very same slab of writing the first time I did it and got Arthur C Clarke (whom I'd rather be closer to).
The retinue strode at a determined pace along the city street, their objective now in plain sight. The street was wide enough, being a main thoroughfare of the city of Palanthine, and allowed for six men to march abreast. Along the sides of the street were some of the common folk of the city, in various states of shock or disbelief or dismay or upset. Here and there was a soldier of Palanthine, or a city guard, equally dismayed as the commoners they were there to protect.
Retinue was perhaps not quite the right word for the group of soldiers. "Contingent" might be better. They were about two-dozen strong, dressed in the red and gold livery of the kingdom of Kharnov, which lay some five hundred miles to the south and west of Palanthine. The Kharnov soldiers were marching with purpose, their bearings conveying a grim determination: they were marching with their king in their midst, marching on the palace of Palanthine to demand surrender.
The two kingdoms had been at war for nearly ten years, now. It had started as an accidental skirmish near Central Farm, when patrols from the two kingdoms had met and mistakenly fought after a drinking challenge had gotten out of hand; when the diplomats later failed to resolve the situation, hostilities broke out. Open war was declared by both kings within the year, and armies were mobilised. The Kharnov soldiers, though, living in the hotter, drier environment, were more accustomed to exertion under duress, and after a few years of stalemated battles they slowly began pushing the soldiers of Palanthine back.
That all culminated in today. The Kharnov army was camped at the city gates, waiting. General Olun was in charge of the army, waiting for his king's signal. For nearly ten years he'd led this army, and the general felt victory was long overdue. He wanted his moment, but would wait on his king's word. That was his duty. He'd selected the honour guard that was to escort King Tyrum Havarrel through Palanthine to the palace, there to meet with the opposing king and demand surrender. A part of the General wanted Palanthine to reject surrender…but he doubted that would happen, not if the Palanthine king was a sane person.
The Kharnov soldiers were, generally, a strong and hardy people. Their skin was typically of slightly darker and dusky hues, a trait that came from living in warmer climate, and their hair typically darker than that of their northern neighbours. They tended to be lean and wiry, although the disposition to be physically strong was by no means missing. The contingent was heavily armed and armoured, marching in strong formation around their king. Other than the sound of their armour clanking and clinking with each step, they made no sound. They were not the first Kharnov force to enter the Palanthine palace, but they would be the most important.
The palace came into full view, the gates already flung open as if welcoming them. The honour guard did not slow its pace as it strode through the gates, then along the path from the gates to the main doors of the palace. The doors, too, were open, and presented no barrier to the honour guard. Kharnov soldiers saluted their king as the honour guard were now guided to the throneroom of the palace, and the contingent only slowed to a stop when the throneroom was reached, and they stepped aside to allow their king to step forward and make his claim for victory.
King Tyrum Havarrel was by no means a slob of a king; he was a solid man, stood nearly six feet tall, and he, too, was dressed in full armour, his shield slung over his back, his trusty sword sheathed at his hip. At nearly fifty years of age, his hair was shoulder-length, a flowing mane that was starting to turn grey; his features were heavy-set, his dark brown eyes set deep beneath a strong brow and astride a hooked nose, eyes that took in everything and gave away nothing. Courtiers – he assumed they were courtiers and nobles of some sort – watched, some open-mouthed, as he strode towards the throne, mounted the dais, then turned as sat heavily on the throne of Palanthine, the first Kharnov ever to do so. Was he sitting in the king's throne, or the queen's? He didn't know, and he didn't care…right now, that little bit of detail was irrelevant, but he guessed that, given he'd sat in the larger, it was the king's.
His steely, emotionless gaze swept over the people arrayed before him: the rigid determination of his guard countered by the bewildered looks of the nobles. He snorted softly, then let his gaze pick out on of the soldiers in the rear of the throneroom, one who was of the advance force that had secured the palace before his arrival.
Retinue was perhaps not quite the right word for the group of soldiers. "Contingent" might be better. They were about two-dozen strong, dressed in the red and gold livery of the kingdom of Kharnov, which lay some five hundred miles to the south and west of Palanthine. The Kharnov soldiers were marching with purpose, their bearings conveying a grim determination: they were marching with their king in their midst, marching on the palace of Palanthine to demand surrender.
The two kingdoms had been at war for nearly ten years, now. It had started as an accidental skirmish near Central Farm, when patrols from the two kingdoms had met and mistakenly fought after a drinking challenge had gotten out of hand; when the diplomats later failed to resolve the situation, hostilities broke out. Open war was declared by both kings within the year, and armies were mobilised. The Kharnov soldiers, though, living in the hotter, drier environment, were more accustomed to exertion under duress, and after a few years of stalemated battles they slowly began pushing the soldiers of Palanthine back.
That all culminated in today. The Kharnov army was camped at the city gates, waiting. General Olun was in charge of the army, waiting for his king's signal. For nearly ten years he'd led this army, and the general felt victory was long overdue. He wanted his moment, but would wait on his king's word. That was his duty. He'd selected the honour guard that was to escort King Tyrum Havarrel through Palanthine to the palace, there to meet with the opposing king and demand surrender. A part of the General wanted Palanthine to reject surrender…but he doubted that would happen, not if the Palanthine king was a sane person.
The Kharnov soldiers were, generally, a strong and hardy people. Their skin was typically of slightly darker and dusky hues, a trait that came from living in warmer climate, and their hair typically darker than that of their northern neighbours. They tended to be lean and wiry, although the disposition to be physically strong was by no means missing. The contingent was heavily armed and armoured, marching in strong formation around their king. Other than the sound of their armour clanking and clinking with each step, they made no sound. They were not the first Kharnov force to enter the Palanthine palace, but they would be the most important.
The palace came into full view, the gates already flung open as if welcoming them. The honour guard did not slow its pace as it strode through the gates, then along the path from the gates to the main doors of the palace. The doors, too, were open, and presented no barrier to the honour guard. Kharnov soldiers saluted their king as the honour guard were now guided to the throneroom of the palace, and the contingent only slowed to a stop when the throneroom was reached, and they stepped aside to allow their king to step forward and make his claim for victory.
King Tyrum Havarrel was by no means a slob of a king; he was a solid man, stood nearly six feet tall, and he, too, was dressed in full armour, his shield slung over his back, his trusty sword sheathed at his hip. At nearly fifty years of age, his hair was shoulder-length, a flowing mane that was starting to turn grey; his features were heavy-set, his dark brown eyes set deep beneath a strong brow and astride a hooked nose, eyes that took in everything and gave away nothing. Courtiers – he assumed they were courtiers and nobles of some sort – watched, some open-mouthed, as he strode towards the throne, mounted the dais, then turned as sat heavily on the throne of Palanthine, the first Kharnov ever to do so. Was he sitting in the king's throne, or the queen's? He didn't know, and he didn't care…right now, that little bit of detail was irrelevant, but he guessed that, given he'd sat in the larger, it was the king's.
His steely, emotionless gaze swept over the people arrayed before him: the rigid determination of his guard countered by the bewildered looks of the nobles. He snorted softly, then let his gaze pick out on of the soldiers in the rear of the throneroom, one who was of the advance force that had secured the palace before his arrival.
And got the following results:
Anne Rice x6
Which is interesting, because I submitted the very same slab of writing the first time I did it and got Arthur C Clarke (whom I'd rather be closer to).
Tazreale
Architect of Worlds
- Joined
- Nov 12, 2016
Cory Doctorow (never heard of) (Smut post)
Stephen King (Smut post different genre/rp)
Dan Brown (Never heard of) (Non smut post from same RP I got Stephen King with)
Anne Rice x2 (Another non smut replies I did from same RP I got from prior two above.)
Cory Doctorow (And just out of curiosity, in same RP which has some 'system elements,' that I included, got him again in a non-smut post this time.)
I mean.. I dunno.
Stephen King (Smut post different genre/rp)
Dan Brown (Never heard of) (Non smut post from same RP I got Stephen King with)
Anne Rice x2 (Another non smut replies I did from same RP I got from prior two above.)
Cory Doctorow (And just out of curiosity, in same RP which has some 'system elements,' that I included, got him again in a non-smut post this time.)
I mean.. I dunno.
jennica enslaved
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Mar 31, 2017
I posted five different snippets from current RPs and got: David Foster Wallace, Mario Puzo, Daniel Defoe and Arthur Clarke (twice).
While I don't know who Daniel Defoe is and am only vaguely aware of David Foster Wallace, to have even the smallest comparison to Puzo (The Godfather, and one of my favorite authors) or Clarke (co-wrote the screenplay for 2001: A Space Odyssey) is incredibly flattering.
Similar. I tried inputting different numbers of paragraphs from the same intro post (a bit over 2,000 words)... It gave me a different result for one paragraph, two paragraphs, or the entire thing. I don't know how these things are supposed to work, but seemed strange.
I went back to my sample from above and used different selections from it. It's 8 paragraphs long, and I started from the first paragraph each time.
2 paragraphs => H.G. Wells
3 paragraphs => H.G. Wells
4 paragraphs => Arthur C Clarke
5 paragraphs => Arthur C Clarke
6 paragraphs => Arthur C Clarke
7 paragraphs => Anne Rice
8 paragraphs => Anne Rice
2 paragraphs => H.G. Wells
3 paragraphs => H.G. Wells
4 paragraphs => Arthur C Clarke
5 paragraphs => Arthur C Clarke
6 paragraphs => Arthur C Clarke
7 paragraphs => Anne Rice
8 paragraphs => Anne Rice
Strange Days
ɪ sᴛᴀɴ ᴋᴇɴ ᴛᴀᴋᴀᴋᴜʀᴀ
- Joined
- Aug 29, 2020
- Location
- NERV HQ
WTF Mint why didn't I know this- 'And Then There Were None' is one of my favorite books ever!
I got Ernest Hemingway which is... honestly a massive honor, even though I don't even come close to the magnitude of his work and influence.
Lowkey hoped to get Mr. King or James Joyce, they are both pretty sick IMO.
Gina in Orange
Dark side of the Moonagerie
- Joined
- Apr 8, 2013
- Location
- U.S.
Hahaha. Maybe I should actually write a vampire story then.
- Joined
- Dec 31, 2021
- Location
- Valhalla
Last time I took this, I got James Joyce.
- Joined
- Dec 1, 2014
- Location
- US
JK Rowling. If you expect Harry Potter though, you can rest assured that you will be disappointed.
- Joined
- Oct 2, 2023
Interesting way to see this, apparently I write like a one Sir Arthur Charles Clarke, so I'm not mad about that at all.
Rigor Samsa
Moon
- Joined
- May 6, 2019
James Joyce, Margaret Atwood, H.P Lovecraft.
Not sure these are the authors I'd use to market myself but that's life.
Not sure these are the authors I'd use to market myself but that's life.
Ineson
Planetoid
- Joined
- Jan 26, 2023
- Location
- Everywhere.
Flattered but I definitely don't think I write like Charles Dickens. His writing is way better than anything I have done in my opinion.
Gordian Knot
Half Man, Half Animal, All Dumb
- Joined
- Nov 29, 2018
Put a few posts from one of my older roleplays that I really enjoyed and got William Gibson, with surprising consistency at that. On one hand, I like what he writes about. On the other, I don't particularly like how he writes it. I guess I'll settle on taking it as a compliment, but also reaffirmation to keep improving. Neat tool though!