lay me gently in the cold dark earth
a writing comp entry

Original Draft

The musician played, and flowers bloomed from her hands.
Kendra watched in astonishment as the soft pink blossoms twined their stems around the piano, clinging to its wooden legs and hanging over the keys. The woman at the bench continued to play, never missing a note as petals unfurled from her fingertips in an explosion of early spring color. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to lean into the piano as she performed.
Then the music stopped, and the woman looked up. Flowers lay across the top of the piano and brushed against her hands. She plucked one, stood, and placed it in Kendra’s palm. “We work miracles here,” she said solemnly.
Kendra cradled the flower, half expecting it to turn to dust. “Miracles,” she repeated shakily.
“We could help your mother,” the woman told her. “We could cure her of her illness, bring her back to full health. It will cost you, of course”
It seemed impossible, too good to be true. Then again… Kendra glanced down at the blossom in her hands, thinking back to the pamphlet she had received in the mail a few days ago. The pamphlet that had led her to this building.We work miracles here. “I’ll pay however much you want,” she said, and she meant it. She’d find a way to cover the price, somehow.
“Oh, it’s not the sort of cost you’re thinking of,” the woman told her. “You will have to give up something more than just mortal money. You are quite literally dealing with Life and Death here. They will ask more of you than you might be willing to sacrifice.”
“I’ll give you anything!” Kendra insisted. “As long as you can help her.”
The woman met her gaze with cold gray eyes. “Would you relinquish your own life for your mother’s?”
Kendra hesitated for only a second. “Of course.” Then, warily, “But wouldn’t you prefer money? What good is my life to you?”
“It’s not about what I want. It’s the only thing that will satisfy Life and Death once you pull your mother from the arms of one to the other. They will not be pleased that you have tampered with matters meant to be out of human control.”
“Oh.” It didn’t make sense, but then, nothing in this conversation really did. “But if I… if I pay the price, you will save my mother? Bring her back to full health, and everything?”
“Yes, that is the agreement.”
“I’ll do it.” They were bold words, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she chose the alternative,
The woman seemed surprised. “Very well,” she said at last. She walked to a desk at the back of the room, located a sheet of paper and a pen, and returned to Kendra. “Sign this line here.”
Kendra skimmed the document. I, Kendra Hirata, surrender that which is most precious to me in exchange for the services of the House of the Hidden Star. I fully relinquish all connections and claims to this possession, and acknowledge that it belongs now to the musicians of the House. “‘That which is most precious to me?’”
The pianist shook her head. “It’s the customary payment. We don’t usually pull people back from near death. For you, the price is a bit different.”
“Oh.” Kendra raised the pen to sign, then paused again. “How do you know my name?” After a moment, she added, “I don’t even know yours.”
“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” The woman sighed. “You can call me Myla.”
Kendra opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. She scrawled her signature on the document, then handed it to the musician. “It’s a deal, then?”
“Yes.” Myla accepted the paper. “Now go. Your services will be delivered in a few days.”

━──━─━━─━────༺༻────━─━──━─━─

She was just like Connie.
It had hurt, a little, to have the girl sign the contract. To ask her to sacrifice her own life for a service that ordinarily wouldn’t demand such a steep price. A service that would never even be followed through.
But Myla knew the rules. A soul for a soul. Kendra was the best match she would probably ever find. If she was ever to bring back Connie, it would be by trading this girl’s life.
I’m sorry, Kendra. But I have done everything I can to save my sister from the death I brought upon her.
I will not fail her now.

━──━─━━─━────༺༻────━─━──━─━─

Kendra sat nervously by the piano, watching as Myla placed her hands upon the keys.
The musician had promised in the message she’d sent that they would not be doing anything drastic today. She would leave this room alive. It’s just a practice session. A test, to make sure everything will go smoothly when the real time comes.
Myla had begun to play now, a haunting song that sent a draft of air rushing through the room. Kendra shivered, though the breeze was not particularly cold. She could feel her pulse slowing and swallowed, forcing herself to keep breathing. It’s just a practice session. Nothing's going to happen.
On the bench beside her, Myla gasped. Kendra glanced over, startled, as the music broke off in a jangling discordance of notes. “Did something happen?”
Myla’s breathing was ragged. “I…” She lifted her face, and Kendra stared back, stunned. How rattled the pianist looked. How vulnerable. For the first time Kendra realized just how young she was. The woman couldn’t have been much older than twenty. She carried herself with the bearing of a person far beyond her years. “It surprised me.”
“What did?”
“Your…” Myla trailed off, giving herself a brief shake.“It’s a good thing we practiced first.” Her hands shook as she lowered them from the keys. “You may leave now. Come back again tomorrow. I want to rehearse some more.”

━──━─━━─━────༺༻────━─━──━─━─

She was everything like Connie, and yet nothing like her at all.
Kendra’s life essence - her soul, some might say - burned with a fire Myla could barely comprehend. The girl was full of so much love and passion and fear and fearlessness. She was so alive. Like Connie had been.
And yet she had a different sort of strength, too. Myla had perceived it in the split second she had grasped Kendra’s essence through the music, and was so startled by the sheer force of it that she let go. She had anticipated that she might have difficulties with the spell - life magic was not an easy thing to work with - but nothing could have prepared her for that.
It had been a good call, to have a practice run through first. Now she knew what to expect.
Now she understood exactly how extraordinary a life she would be sacrificing to Death.

━──━─━━─━────༺༻────━─━──━─━─

“You know, we’ve never actually talked.”
Myla glanced up, startled. “Why should we have?”
Kendra shrugged. “This is our tenth ‘rehearsal’. I’ve spent hours in this room with you. I just think I should know you better than I do.”
“I’m not in the habit of telling clients my life story,” Myla said tersely. Her hands curved over the piano keys, though she didn’t press down. She was taking a brief break from the music; apparently playing for long stretches of time was very taxing.
“I’m not asking for your life story,” Kendra replied. “I just… all this time, and we haven’t even had a conversation. You know, like normal people.”
Myla sighed. “Why don’t you start, then? Tell me about yourself.”
“Alright.” Kendra considered. “Well, I really like astronomy. I think it’s so cool, all the stars and planets up there. Most of the universe hasn’t even been explored yet. Who knows what exists out there that we just haven’t discovered?”
Myla was silent.
“That’s part of the reason I came to your business,” Kendra continued. “House of the Hidden Star, and all that. It sounded cool, you know? Like a secret part of space just waiting to be discovered. And, well, the pamphlet said you could work miracles and save lives. I thought I could really use some of that.”
“It’s not my business,” Myla spoke suddenly. “I was employed here only a few years ago. I joined after my… after I graduated high school.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Myla hesitated. “Carnations were my sister’s favorite flower, you know.”
“What?”
“Carnations. I grew them for you when we first met. As a demonstration of what I could do. I hadn’t grown carnations in years.”
“Oh,” Kendra said, confused.
Myla continued to speak, seeming to forget that she had a listener. “I used to grow carnations for my sister all the time, to put in vases or flower crowns. The soft pink ones. Connie loved them. That was her name, Connie.”
“Oh,” Kendra said again. Then it registered with her that Myla was speaking in the past tense. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
Myla smiled sadly. “You remind me of her, sometimes. She hated science. She was much more interested in sports. And math. She loved math. But she was similar to you too, in some ways. She loved fiercely.”
Kendra paused, not knowing what to do with that information. “Is that why you've been delaying helping my mother?”
Myla flinched. “Hm?”
“It is,” Kendra realized. “Saving her means that I have to die. You don’t want to let that happen.”
Myla was silent.
“Myla,” Kendra said, and this time when she spoke her voice came dangerously close to cracking. “The doctors say… My mom isn’t doing so well. She doesn’t have much longer left. If you’re going to cure her, it has to be soon. By the end of this week.” Her voice did break then. “I’m scared. I am. But I can do it. I’ve got to do it. Don’t worry about me, please. I just have to save her.”
“Tomorrow,” Myla said. The word sounded strained. “Come here tomorrow, and we’ll do it. It’s time we resolve our ends of the contract.”

━──━─━━─━────༺༻────━─━──━─━─

She was not Connie at all.
A soul for a soul. That was the price to bring a loved one back from the dead. As long as the two were somewhat similar, Death would accept the exchange. Kendra could no doubt be traded for Connie. They shared the same age, the same startling vitality, the same ability to love with astonishing fierceness. Close enough.
But they were not the same, not at all. Kendra Hirata would never, could never, be Connie Corvelleck. Myla had been a fool for ever thinking otherwise.
All this she realized as she sat at her piano, playing the final, sealing spell. The music surged from her fingers, terrifying and powerful, wrapping around Kendra tighter and faster. She could feel the girl’s life force being seized by song, blazing with that fiery strength she had felt at their first rehearsal. Kendra was frightened, but ready for what was to come next, made brave by the belief that her mother was going to be saved tonight.
A soul for a soul.
As Myla watched, Kendra rose up into the air, above the piano. The darkness swirled around her, pressing closer. Tighter. She had practiced many times the first part of this spell, but never what came next. The music was horrible, hungry, dangerous. It scraped at her ears and fingers, demanding something more. A soul for a soul a soul for a soul a soul for a-
No!
Myla’s hands took on a life of their own. She no longer recognized what she was playing. It was not the spell to summon Death. It was something else entirely. Above, Kendra spun, the threads of death around her loosening. The music kept coming, pouring outwards from a place in herself Myla hadn’t known existed. She let it flow. She didn’t think she could have stopped it if she tried.
Then, with no warning, her fingers halted. The music had reached its end. Myla sat, gasping, her hands still frozen over the keys. Then she turned to look at Kendra. The girl lay beside the piano, her eyes closed. She was breathing, and her hair and arms were wreathed in a tangle of pink carnations.

Edited Draft

The musician played, and flowers bloomed from her hands.
Kendra watched in astonishment as the soft pink blossoms twined their stems around the piano, clinging to its wooden legs and hanging over the keys. The woman at the bench continued to play, never missing a note as petals unfurled from her fingertips in an explosion of early spring color. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed to lean into the piano as she performed.
Then the music stopped, and the woman looked up. Flowers lay across the top of the piano and brushed against her hands. She plucked one, stood, and placed it in Kendra’s palm. “We work miracles here.”
Kendra cradled the flower, half expecting it to turn to dust. “Miracles?” she repeated shakily.
“We could help your mother,” the woman told her. “We could cure her of her illness, bring her back to full health. It will cost you, of course”
It seemed impossible, too good to be true. Then again… Kendra glanced down at the blossom in her hands and thought back to the pamphlet she had received in the mail a few days ago, with the address of the building she now stood in printed on the back. We work miracles here. “I’ll pay however much you want,” she said at last, and she meant it. She’d find a way to cover the price, somehow.
“Oh, it’s not the sort of cost you’re thinking of,” the woman told her. “You will have to give up something more than just mortal money. You are quite literally dealing with Life and Death here. They will ask more of you than you might be willing to sacrifice.”
“I’ll give you anything!” Kendra insisted. “As long as you can help her.”
The woman met her gaze with cold gray eyes. “Would you relinquish your own life for your mother’s?”
Kendra hesitated for only a second. “Of course.” Then, warily, “But wouldn’t you prefer money? What good is my life to you?”
“It’s not about what I want. It’s the only thing that will satisfy Life and Death once you pull your mother from the arms of one to the other. They will not be pleased that you have tampered with matters meant to be out of human control.”
“Oh.” It didn’t make sense, but then nothing in this conversation really did. “But if I… if I pay the price, you will save my mother? Bring her back to full health, and everything?”
“Yes, that is the agreement.”
“I’ll do it.” They were bold words, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she chose the alternative.
The woman seemed surprised. “Very well.” She walked to a desk at the back of the room, located a sheet of paper and a pen, and returned to Kendra. “Sign this line here.”
Kendra skimmed the document. I, Kendra Hirata, surrender that which is most precious to me in exchange for the services of the House of the Hidden Star. I fully relinquish all connections and claims to this possession, and acknowledge that it belongs now to the musicians of the House. “‘That which is most precious to me?’”
The pianist shook her head. “It’s the customary payment. We don’t usually pull people back from near death. For you, the price is a bit different.”
“Oh.” Kendra raised the pen to sign, then paused again. “How do you know my name? I don’t even know yours.”
The woman’s lips tightened slightly before she spoke. “You can call me Myla.”
That didn’t answer my first question, Kendra thought but didn’t say. She scrawled her signature on the document and handed it to the musician. “It’s a deal, then?”
“Yes.” Myla accepted the paper. “Now go. Your services will be delivered in a few days.”

━──━─━━─━────༺༻────━─━──━─━─

She was just like Connie.
It had pained Myla, slightly, to have the girl sign the contract. To ask her to sacrifice her own life for a service that ordinarily wouldn’t demand such a steep price. A service that would never even be followed through.
But Myla knew the rules. A soul for a soul. Kendra was the best match she could ever have hoped to find. If Connie was to be brought back, it had to be at the cost of this girl’s life.
I’m sorry, Kendra. But I have done everything I can to save my sister from the death I brought upon her.
I will not fail her now.

━──━─━━─━────༺༻────━─━──━─━─

Kendra sat nervously by the piano, watching as Myla placed her hands upon the keys.
The musician had promised in the message she’d sent that they would not be doing anything drastic today. Kendra would leave this room alive. It’s just a practice session. A test, to make sure everything will go smoothly when the real time comes.
Myla had begun to play now, a slow, haunting tune that sent a draft of air rushing through the room. Kendra shivered, though the breeze was not particularly cold. It’s just a practice session. Nothing's going to happen.
On the bench beside her, Myla gasped. Kendra glanced over, startled, as the music broke off in a jangling discordance of notes. “Did something happen?”
Myla’s breathing was ragged. “I…” She lifted her face, and Kendra stared back, stunned. How rattled the pianist looked. How vulnerable. For the first time Kendra realized just how young she was. The woman couldn’t have been much older than twenty, though she carried herself with the bearing of a person far beyond her years. “It surprised me.”
“What did?”
“Your…” Myla trailed off, giving herself a brief shake. “It’s a good thing we practiced first.” Her hands shook as she lowered them from the keys. “You may leave now. Come back again tomorrow. I want to rehearse some more.”

━──━─━━─━────༺༻────━─━──━─━─

She was everything like Connie, and yet nothing like her at all.
Myla’s younger sister had been so full of vitality, of kindness and passion and wild joy. Her life essence - her soul, some might say - was sunshine molded into the shape of a young girl’s heart. She filled the world with a radiance that no other person could possibly replicate. Myla had been groping in the darkness ever since she left.
Kendra, meanwhile, was a blazing inferno. The girl overflowed with so much love and strength and fear and fearlessness. She burned, in a way Connie never had. Myla was so caught off guard during the first rehearsal that she’d snatched her hand away. She hadn’t believed before that anyone could illuminate a room the way Connie had.
But if anything, Kendra’s fire flared brighter.

━──━─━━─━────༺༻────━─━──━─━─

“You know, we’ve never actually talked.”
Myla glanced up, startled. “Why should we have?”
Kendra shrugged. “This is our tenth ‘rehearsal’. I’ve spent hours in this room with you. I just think I should know you better than I do.”
“I’m not in the habit of telling clients my life story,” Myla said tersely. Her hands curved over the piano keys, though she didn’t press down. She was taking a brief break from the music; apparently playing for long stretches of time was very taxing.
“I’m not asking for your life story,” Kendra replied. “I just… all this time, and we haven’t even had a conversation. You know, like normal people.”
Myla sighed. “Why don’t you start, then? Tell me about yourself.”
“Alright.” Kendra considered. “Well, I really like astronomy. I think it’s fascinating, all the stars and planets up there. Most of the universe hasn’t even been explored yet. Who knows what things are floating around out there, just waiting to be found?”
Myla was silent.
“That’s part of the reason I came to your business,” Kendra continued. “House of the Hidden Star. It sounded… It sounded like a secret part of space, quietly awaiting discovery. And, well, the pamphlet said you could work miracles. I thought I could really use some of that.”
“It’s not my business,” Myla spoke suddenly. “I was employed here only a few years ago. I joined after my… after I graduated high school.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” Myla hesitated. “Carnations were my sister’s favorite flower, you know.”
“What?”
“Carnations. I grew them for you when we first met. As a demonstration of what I could do. I hadn’t grown carnations in years.”
“Oh,” Kendra said, confused.
Myla continued to speak, seeming to forget that she had a listener. “I used to grow carnations for my sister all the time, to put in vases or flower crowns. The soft pink ones. Connie loved them. That was her name, Connie.”
“Oh,” Kendra said again. Then it registered with her that Myla was speaking in the past tense. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
Myla smiled sadly. “You remind me of her, sometimes. She hated science. She was much more interested in fairy tales and fantasy stories. She loved her princesses and witches and magic spells. But she was similar to you too, in some ways. She loved fiercely.”
Kendra paused. “Is that why you've been delaying helping my mother?”
Myla flinched. “Hm?”
“It is,” Kendra realized. “Saving her means that I have to die. You don’t want to let that happen.”
Myla was silent.
“Myla,” Kendra said, and this time when she spoke her voice came dangerously close to cracking. “The doctors say… My mom isn’t doing so well. She doesn’t have much longer left. If you’re going to cure her, it has to be soon. By the end of this week.” Her voice did break then. “I’m scared. I am. But I can do it. I’ve got to do it. Don’t worry about me, please. I just have to save her.”
“Tomorrow,” Myla said. The word sounded strained. “Come here tomorrow, and we’ll do it. It’s time we resolve our ends of the contract.”

━──━─━━─━────༺༻────━─━──━─━─

She was not Connie at all.
A soul for a soul. That was the price to bring a loved one back from the dead. As long as the two were somewhat similar, Death would accept the exchange. Kendra could no doubt be traded for Connie. They shared the same youthfulness, the same intense vivacity, the same ability to love with astonishing fierceness. Practically identical, from a distance.
But they were not the same, not at all. Kendra Hirata would never, could never, be Connie Corvelleck. Myla had been a fool for ever thinking otherwise.
All this she realized as she sat at her piano, playing the final, sealing spell. The music surged from her fingers, terrifying and powerful, wrapping around Kendra tighter and faster. She could feel the girl’s life force being seized by song, blazing with that fiery strength Myla had perceived at their first rehearsal. Kendra was frightened, but ready for what was to come next, made brave by the belief that her mother was going to be saved tonight.
A soul for a soul.
As Myla watched, Kendra rose up into the air, above the piano. The darkness swirled around her, pressing closer. Tighter. They had practiced many times together the first part of this spell, but never what came next. The music was horrible, hungry, dangerous. It scraped at Myla’s ears and fingers, demanding something more. A soul for a soul a soul for a soul a soul for a-
No!
Myla’s hands took on a life of their own. She no longer recognized what she was playing. It was not a spell to summon Death. It was something else entirely. Above, Kendra spun, the threads of shadow around her loosening. The music kept coming, pouring outwards from a place in herself Myla hadn’t known existed. She let it flow. She didn’t think she could have stopped it if she tried.
Then, with no warning, her fingers halted. The music had reached its end. Myla sat, gasping, her hands still frozen over the keys. Then she turned to look at Kendra. The girl lay beside the piano, her eyes closed. She was breathing, and her hair and arms were wreathed in a tangle of pink carnations.

Reflection

For this daily, the two aspects I chose to tackle were character perspective and description. I rewrote certain parts in order to more effectively show the characters’ changing perspectives, particularly Myla’s. Aside from the ending section, Kendra gets the bulk of the narrative: the opening scene, the first rehearsal, and the conversation in which Myla opens up are all written from her viewpoint. Myla’s interludes are very short and serve the purpose of letting the reader into her mind at the necessary story beats. It is in these scenes that her growth and character development are on full display, and I tried my best to clearly portray her gradual change of mindset throughout each one. Her entire second viewpoint section was rewritten to better bridge the person she is at the story’s beginning and the person she is at the end. It’s an in-between sort of moment that needs to strike that perfect balance between shifting character motivations, and while it took a bit more effort than the others to get right I am satisfied with how it came out. Besides this significant change, I also made a few small edits throughout the rest of the work. These included smoothing down the prose for better clarity, polishing certain descriptions and lines of dialogue, and reducing the word count. (The original draft of this story is about thirty words above the maximum.) Overall I’d say that this daily was really helpful! It allowed me to narrow down my focus to just a couple things and made the editing process much easier. My writing competition entry has definitely improved as a result. There are a few other changes I’d like to make before submitting (some parts of the ending scene could use a rewrite) but even now I’m fairly proud of how this piece is turning out!

Word Count: 305

writing comp entry - she-ra fanfic
1485 words

…sink to the bathroom floor. The only sound was the drip drip of water. For a moment, it felt like I had all the time in the world. For a moment, I forgot why I was here.
It was short-lived.

A tremble shifted my body, and I could feel the tears in my eyes. They were just waiting to spill—spill like an irreversible mistake. I rose slowly, daring to meet my eyes in the mirror, but I only grew angrier as I stared at my reflection.

And for a second, I pondered the idea of suicide. It was a worthless thought—I would never be strong enough to murder anyone, much less myself.

Eventually, it would all build up again, and I would…

Stress

(credit to ChatGPT, not counted as words)

That was what the English teacher had written on the board, which was copied down in my notebook in a slanted writing. I carefully scanned my book so I couldn't miss out any details regarding the topic of our essay, “Write an essay of 300 words about the definition of stress and list out how it's used in writing.”

This is a tough topic… I thought as I started to write down important points for my essay, knowing that it values most of our marks in our exams.

I cannot afford to fail this. When I wrote down the due date for the essay, which was 2 months from now, I suddenly dropped my pen on the floor and wanted to pick it up until a heavy shoe stepped on my palm, causing immense pain, it filled all over my body almost immediately.

When I wrote down the due date for the essay, which was 2 months from now, I suddenly dropped my pen on the floor and wanted to pick it up until a heavy shoe stepped on my palm, causing immense pain, it filled all over my body almost immediately.

-wanted to pick it up until a heavy shoe stepped on my palm, causing immense pain, it filled all over my body almost immediately. I wanted to yell out in pain, but I resisted. I wanted to look up to identify my attacker-

his usually harsh tone, especially towards me

"Hey, loser. Trying to pick up something of yours?”

I tried to not make eye contact with him, or it'll make him seem powerful.

“It's nothing.” I spoke calmly, although the pain in my hand was contradicting my thoughts to yell at him violently. But a kind voice made me stay put. “Martin, let him go.” Weren came to my aid, forcing Martin to release his hold on me.

But the marks on my hand were obvious, too serious until I saw blood coming out.

“Your boyfriend is here to save you.”

Will people treat me differently?

Only time can tell.
Time isn't a gracious person, soon many weeks have passed.

Many had significantly treated me differently as I expected, even Weren.

I sighed, as I looked down on my palm, the wound which had slowly started to turn to a scar, leaving a permanent mark on my hand. But that wasn't the only thing that had become permanent.

Luna asked kindly, she is the only one who still treated me the same as before.

I stopped myself from speaking, I mustn't let anything in my thoughts exit without my control.

The reality isn't what it seemed from my answer.

I've been hiding this secret from my parents, I don't want them to know because when they do, they'll care for me, which they never did and never will. If they knew they'll force me to leave the school and I will never see my friends again, even though I don't really have any.

My parents despise people who like others of the same gender, and to think that their son is one of them.

Luna, appearing to think through me

we should focus more on our essays that Teacher gave us for the English exa-”

He looked at me for a second, but looked away almost immediately.

But I had another secret kept from her. No one knew about it. My parents wanted me to quit Advanced English. Because they don't believe me, they don't believe I am smart enough to actually take the paper. I wanted to prove them wrong, but I had forgotten about the essay.

hoping Luna didn't see through my inner thoughts through my worried look in my eyes.

Weren walked towards my direction, each step was as though he was walking through quicksand, slow and steady, preventing himself from any danger. And right now I am the danger, to him.

After he spoke, I felt an impact on my chest. Suddenly, I felt as though my body had been injured several times like a doll falling down the stairs. Then I blacked out.

I woke up in the school infirmary

I need to stay for the night.

“Well, okay. But remember to see us if your injuries get worse.”

I closed my eyes, as I’m about to suffer a large earful from my mother, who wants questions upon my late return back home.

I could hear my parents arguing downstairs, that I don’t deserve to be adopted by them.

I looked once more at the title. Stress. Yes, it’s such a simple topic now. I can write my whole life there.

Because my life is filled with conflicts from everyone, overfilling me with anxiety as the days to come.

3/22/23 daily
I used the Familiars book series I haven't read it in forever so I probably got a lot of things wrong and it's pretty bad + rushed but I did it! :3 253 words of bad writing feel free to not read it/hj

PART ONE: Brainstorming Emotions - written by Soki

Your first task in this weekly is brainstorming emotions and how to express them through your characters. Humans are built to be good at recognizing emotions in ourselves and others, so sometimes it can be hard to describe exactly what goes into this process. Doing this well is a challenge, but it will greatly enrich your writing.
To complete this part of the weekly, brainstorm emotion in writing for at least 200 words. What are ways you know of that emotion can be expressed? How would your syntax, word choice, and writing style change based on the emotion you are working to convey?
Brainstorm however you like, as long as you write at least 200 words.

PART TWO: Emotions in Character - written by Soki

Time to keep going! To complete this next task, check out this workshop, write by our beloved tyrant Sun. Afterward, write at least 300 words of emotionally charged dialogue between at least two characters, including someone’s perspective, descriptions of body language, and one of the following dialogue prompts:

“You don’t understand, (name). I have to do this. Don’t you dare try and stop me.”
“No, I don’t hate you. Not yet.”
“… I don’t know what I would have done without you, you know? I haven’t had the chance to thank you yet.”
“I think I understand why, now. I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to know. But I do, and we’re going to talk about it whether you like it or not.”

PART THREE: Emotions in Prose - written by Alia

For the third part of this weekly, we’re going to be covering emotion in dialogue! First, check out this workshop by the amazing Zai (make sure to donate some lasagna when you’re done reading). Then, after getting an emotion from his generator, write 50 words narrowing that emotion down to something more specific. For example, if you start with anger, you could narrow it down to fury.

After, write a scene that contains that emotion in 450 words! This scene should contain:
- Two metaphors
- Two literary devices that are not a simile or a metaphor
- A mention of the setting

PART FOUR: Bringing It All Together - written by Moss

Finally, let's bring the workshops together to write a final piece incorporating both ways of writing emotions! Write a story or poem of at least 700 words where the emotion expressed by characters is different than the emotion in the prose. The emotions could be complete opposites, or even ones that might go together, such as boredom and calmness. Feel free to write whatever you'd like, as long as it is Scratch-appropriate, of course. You're in the final stretch for the weekly—best of luck as you finish it up!"