ValthazarHornet
Meteorite
- Joined
- Nov 13, 2012
Long story short, I started out writing in the collaborative roleplaying scene of the AOL and Yahoo days. You know—those good ole' days of the Red Dragon Inn, and IRC (not sure if anyone else remembers those days?).
It’s incredible to see how much the roleplay scene has evolved since those days. Nowadays, there’s a different group of writers in the roleplay community—different norms, approaches, ideals, and most of all, different platforms to write on.
But maybe there's someone else out there who remembers the "old days"...
What if it were possible to go back to that era? A return to AOL Messenger? You know what I mean… That feeling of being on AOL, finding a wonderful writing partner, weaving a meaningful story line, and connecting with them on an intellectual level. There was a true art to roleplaying back then, where you'd be able to develop an authentic intellectual connect with a collaborative partner, which would weave organically into developing quality prose that lasted weeks, if not months.
It’s that feeling of racing home after a long day of school or work, only to want to log on to the computer, and spend another evening typing away with back-and-forth discourse.
I don’t know about you, but I yearn for those days. The maturity, the ability to craft plot-driven narratives with emotionally nuanced characters. There was something special about the late 90s and early 2000s. With that being said, here’s my search for someone looking for something similar—an advanced literate collaborative experience that rivals the best of that period!
Here's a bit about me:
My writing tends to span a wide variety of genres—including science fiction, historical fiction, and realistic modern fiction. My writing has spanned both a personal as well professional nature, and as a result, I’m always up for experimenting with new genres and writing styles. Recently, I’ve been dabbling a bit more in fantasy themes; however, I’m still a novice when it comes to taking on high-fantasy themes.
Writing Style:
I will humbly admit that I tend to be a voracious writer, and as a result, my posts frequently range in the 3-4+ paragraph range. Granted, there are certain occasions when a shorter length is more desirable (especially in conversational, or dialogue-intensive scenes)—and this is certainly something I implement when necessary. I’m a strong believer in quality over quantity, and I’m hoping to find a fellow writer who has an appreciation for packing a large quantity of details in a condensed post (within reason).
Collaboration:
For me, the pre-writing, collaborative stage is as enjoyable as the writing process itself. I know that some writers prefer to jump head-first into writing the story itself—with minimal discussion. Based on experience, this approach is due to the fact that some writers fear that too much discussion may “reveal” too much of the plot prior to writing. While this is certainly a valid point, it is important for me to mention that my discussions do not pertain to plot; rather, they pertain to exploring the characters’ backstories, emotional orientations, cultural groundings, and other such factors. It’s more with regard to developing a creative discourse with my writing partner to truly immerse—and “live”—the experiences of our characters. To me, it is this level of exploration and collaboration that truly make roleplaying a much more engaging process as compared to solo writing.
Hard Requirements in a Writing Partner:
Hopefully we can get a conversation going, and weave our way into writing a story together. Thanks for your time; I hope to hear from you!
Writing Sample:
It had been 100 years since the neutron star had collided with Earth. To those that were alive at the time, the bright ball of fire had come careening from another galaxy, and had made absolute ruin of the great planet. Earth’s mass had been sucked into the star, and everything mankind had worked to create was now a mere figment of imagination. Thankfully, the neutron star’s attack had been predicted two decades in advance, giving scientists just enough time to make a limited number of spaceships to preserve what little they could of mankind’s legacy.
Two spaceships had been created—“Voyager” and “Explorer.” Each spaceship could only hold 200,000 people, and it had been an agonizing, ethically-divisive process trying to select which people from planet Earth would be selected to survive, and ultimately continue mankind’s legacy on another planet. The United Nations had decided that each vessel should include individuals with unique skill-sets and backgrounds—doctors, engineers, artists, writers, merchants, athletes, and soldiers, among others. These 400,000 men and women would be the ones continuing the path of human history, after the Earth’s destruction.
And so, as it was planned, Voyager and Explorer took their lift-off in January of 2247—a month prior to the neutron star’s planned hit. The residents on board Voyager couldn’t help but look out the ship’s windows that February, witnessing the once great planet disappearing into the abyss as the neutron star consumed its mass. Twelve billion men and women on planet Earth perished that day.
Now, 100 years later, a new generation had been born on-board the Voyager and Explorer. This generation of men and women had no first-hand concept of Earth, and only knew about their homeland through the relics and stories of their grandparents on board the ship. Felix was one of these younger men—a soldier on board Voyager. He was a calm, yet intense man of 26 years, choosing his profession based on the military legacy of his father and grandfather. In those 100 years, Voyager had made its way through the Milky Way galaxy, into the astral cloud of planet Epsilon, which was the planned final destination for creating mankind’s new colony.
Felix never bothered to care about these aggrandized, large-scale plans. After all, he was simply a soldier. He kept his life simple, and merely focused on his daily duties and responsibilities on board the ship. Whether it was attending daily trainings, or simply tending to the odd individual who was breaking starship regulations, Felix was the type of man who kept his head down from the “powers that be.”
But there was no denying the rumors that he had heard from his compatriots—rumors that planet Epsilon was not the lifeless planet that the scientists had originally thought it to be. The previous day, Felix had heard from one of his fellow soldiers—Serge—that an alien civilization dwelled on Epsilon. And not only that, but that it was a thriving, peaceful civilization.
“That can’t be true,” Felix had rebuffed to Serge. “Aliens don’t exist.”
But each day, the evidence continued to mount. Sophie, one of the ship’s gossip-heads, had even claimed to have photographs leaked from the ship’s administration purportedly showing these alien beings. “You won’t believe what they’re doing to them,” she had warned.
Felix knew that getting himself involved in this pointless drivel was only asking for trouble. But a part of him was troubled. After all, if this civilization was as peaceful and civilized as people had claimed—if it did exist, that is—then surely the ship’s upper-administration wouldn’t be so kind. For days, Felix ignored these thoughts, until a conversation emerged with Serge one day after morning training.
“Felix, I gotta tell you something,” Serge asked, as the two men were changing out of their workout clothes in the locker room. Felix turned to look at Serge, a bit taken aback by his tone. “You won’t believe what I heard. You know Marge who works in the labs?” Serge continued, a bit apprehensively. “Well… look what she gave me…” he finally added, showing Felix a photograph on his electronic device. It was an image of an alien being, just like the one Sophie had shown, being poked and prodded on an operating table. Despite the creature’s face being clearly non-human, the expression of anguish and fear was clearly palpable.
“I can’t do this anymore, Felix,” Serge continued. “I can’t keep fighting for a military that is doing this type of stuff, I just can’t,” he added, shaking his head.Felix stared directly into his eyes. “Then let’s do something about it. Meet me on the upper deck. I know someone who can help.” And so it began.
It’s incredible to see how much the roleplay scene has evolved since those days. Nowadays, there’s a different group of writers in the roleplay community—different norms, approaches, ideals, and most of all, different platforms to write on.
But maybe there's someone else out there who remembers the "old days"...
What if it were possible to go back to that era? A return to AOL Messenger? You know what I mean… That feeling of being on AOL, finding a wonderful writing partner, weaving a meaningful story line, and connecting with them on an intellectual level. There was a true art to roleplaying back then, where you'd be able to develop an authentic intellectual connect with a collaborative partner, which would weave organically into developing quality prose that lasted weeks, if not months.
It’s that feeling of racing home after a long day of school or work, only to want to log on to the computer, and spend another evening typing away with back-and-forth discourse.
I don’t know about you, but I yearn for those days. The maturity, the ability to craft plot-driven narratives with emotionally nuanced characters. There was something special about the late 90s and early 2000s. With that being said, here’s my search for someone looking for something similar—an advanced literate collaborative experience that rivals the best of that period!
Here's a bit about me:
- I'm in my 30s, male, and from the US.
- I'm a working professional in the education field.
- In terms of genres, I'm a huge fan of science fiction, modern fiction, and historical fiction. Historical fiction is a more recent interest of mine, as I love to dive into different time periods and explore what life was like for people in different eras.
- I have a background in writing and publishing, which has equipped me with a strong understanding of plot structure, character development, and the art of crafting engaging prose. My previous projects have ranged from short stories to more extensive written works.
- More than anything, I'm drawn to writers who take a passion for the art of writing itself. There's nothing more rewarding than clicking with someone else who has a passion for capturing emotions and character nuances through that perfect choice of language and syntax.
- Hiking and nature photography are my go-to ways to unwind and find inspiration.
- I'm a coffee aficionado and have at least five different coffee bean bags open at any given time.
My writing tends to span a wide variety of genres—including science fiction, historical fiction, and realistic modern fiction. My writing has spanned both a personal as well professional nature, and as a result, I’m always up for experimenting with new genres and writing styles. Recently, I’ve been dabbling a bit more in fantasy themes; however, I’m still a novice when it comes to taking on high-fantasy themes.
Writing Style:
I will humbly admit that I tend to be a voracious writer, and as a result, my posts frequently range in the 3-4+ paragraph range. Granted, there are certain occasions when a shorter length is more desirable (especially in conversational, or dialogue-intensive scenes)—and this is certainly something I implement when necessary. I’m a strong believer in quality over quantity, and I’m hoping to find a fellow writer who has an appreciation for packing a large quantity of details in a condensed post (within reason).
Collaboration:
For me, the pre-writing, collaborative stage is as enjoyable as the writing process itself. I know that some writers prefer to jump head-first into writing the story itself—with minimal discussion. Based on experience, this approach is due to the fact that some writers fear that too much discussion may “reveal” too much of the plot prior to writing. While this is certainly a valid point, it is important for me to mention that my discussions do not pertain to plot; rather, they pertain to exploring the characters’ backstories, emotional orientations, cultural groundings, and other such factors. It’s more with regard to developing a creative discourse with my writing partner to truly immerse—and “live”—the experiences of our characters. To me, it is this level of exploration and collaboration that truly make roleplaying a much more engaging process as compared to solo writing.
Hard Requirements in a Writing Partner:
- Be over 18 [ideally over 21]. I feel exponentially more comfortable discussing literary ideas with fellow adults. As a result, I set this as a strict limit, and I have a zero tolerance policy for those who lie about their age. As a result, I will be firm for only this particular issue—do not contact me unless you are 18 years of age.
- Interested in Conversation and Collaboration. As I mentioned above, I’m seeking a writer who is truly interested in forming a long-term collaborative writing partnership. This means not only focusing on issues pertaining to our story at hand, but also to broader issues concerning our writing as a whole. Ideally, it would be nice to connect with other working professionals who are looking to use writing as a creative outlet, of sorts.
- Mutual Respect. As I’m sure is the case with many of you, I simply cannot be in front of the computer 24/7 due to real life responsibilities and obligations. Because of this, I hope to find a writer who is committed, yet flexible—someone who is willing to maintain open communication while at the same time, respecting one another’s autonomy.
Hopefully we can get a conversation going, and weave our way into writing a story together. Thanks for your time; I hope to hear from you!
Writing Sample:
It had been 100 years since the neutron star had collided with Earth. To those that were alive at the time, the bright ball of fire had come careening from another galaxy, and had made absolute ruin of the great planet. Earth’s mass had been sucked into the star, and everything mankind had worked to create was now a mere figment of imagination. Thankfully, the neutron star’s attack had been predicted two decades in advance, giving scientists just enough time to make a limited number of spaceships to preserve what little they could of mankind’s legacy.
Two spaceships had been created—“Voyager” and “Explorer.” Each spaceship could only hold 200,000 people, and it had been an agonizing, ethically-divisive process trying to select which people from planet Earth would be selected to survive, and ultimately continue mankind’s legacy on another planet. The United Nations had decided that each vessel should include individuals with unique skill-sets and backgrounds—doctors, engineers, artists, writers, merchants, athletes, and soldiers, among others. These 400,000 men and women would be the ones continuing the path of human history, after the Earth’s destruction.
And so, as it was planned, Voyager and Explorer took their lift-off in January of 2247—a month prior to the neutron star’s planned hit. The residents on board Voyager couldn’t help but look out the ship’s windows that February, witnessing the once great planet disappearing into the abyss as the neutron star consumed its mass. Twelve billion men and women on planet Earth perished that day.
Now, 100 years later, a new generation had been born on-board the Voyager and Explorer. This generation of men and women had no first-hand concept of Earth, and only knew about their homeland through the relics and stories of their grandparents on board the ship. Felix was one of these younger men—a soldier on board Voyager. He was a calm, yet intense man of 26 years, choosing his profession based on the military legacy of his father and grandfather. In those 100 years, Voyager had made its way through the Milky Way galaxy, into the astral cloud of planet Epsilon, which was the planned final destination for creating mankind’s new colony.
Felix never bothered to care about these aggrandized, large-scale plans. After all, he was simply a soldier. He kept his life simple, and merely focused on his daily duties and responsibilities on board the ship. Whether it was attending daily trainings, or simply tending to the odd individual who was breaking starship regulations, Felix was the type of man who kept his head down from the “powers that be.”
But there was no denying the rumors that he had heard from his compatriots—rumors that planet Epsilon was not the lifeless planet that the scientists had originally thought it to be. The previous day, Felix had heard from one of his fellow soldiers—Serge—that an alien civilization dwelled on Epsilon. And not only that, but that it was a thriving, peaceful civilization.
“That can’t be true,” Felix had rebuffed to Serge. “Aliens don’t exist.”
But each day, the evidence continued to mount. Sophie, one of the ship’s gossip-heads, had even claimed to have photographs leaked from the ship’s administration purportedly showing these alien beings. “You won’t believe what they’re doing to them,” she had warned.
Felix knew that getting himself involved in this pointless drivel was only asking for trouble. But a part of him was troubled. After all, if this civilization was as peaceful and civilized as people had claimed—if it did exist, that is—then surely the ship’s upper-administration wouldn’t be so kind. For days, Felix ignored these thoughts, until a conversation emerged with Serge one day after morning training.
“Felix, I gotta tell you something,” Serge asked, as the two men were changing out of their workout clothes in the locker room. Felix turned to look at Serge, a bit taken aback by his tone. “You won’t believe what I heard. You know Marge who works in the labs?” Serge continued, a bit apprehensively. “Well… look what she gave me…” he finally added, showing Felix a photograph on his electronic device. It was an image of an alien being, just like the one Sophie had shown, being poked and prodded on an operating table. Despite the creature’s face being clearly non-human, the expression of anguish and fear was clearly palpable.
“I can’t do this anymore, Felix,” Serge continued. “I can’t keep fighting for a military that is doing this type of stuff, I just can’t,” he added, shaking his head.Felix stared directly into his eyes. “Then let’s do something about it. Meet me on the upper deck. I know someone who can help.” And so it began.