I've kinda been itching to write a joint story with someone. I really want to do a Jacob Black story, from the Twilight Saga? I had a story but the title was in french && I hadn't upper cased it, so it got deleted.
I already have some ideas for the story. The person who wants to do this with me will absolutely be my partner, and we will be equals in this story. I will need some help coming up with a final idea and I don't have EVERYTHING planned out so they will have to contribute some ideas as well, and if they don't like my ideas then we don't have to use them. You'll write every other chapter, and then I'll write the others. And we will run the idea's for each chapter by each other before we write them, and we will read each others chapters before we post. It will be a team effort.
But I kinda want to be able to read a portion of their writing to see if we have a same writing style and if I like their writing style before I accept any one.
Here is a little tid-bit of my writing to see if you would like to join forces.
--Marie had detected me as soon as I immigrated into the cafeteria. She gestured me over to her table, fluttering her arms rabidly in the air.
I was astonish that someone who had neglected my existence for so long all of a sudden could separate my face from all the faces in here, picking me out from a crowd.
Was she keeping tabs on me? Describing me to her cult of friends what I looked like? Did she have me on surveillance? Did she really have a mini TV in her pink purse, watching my every move?
I snickered to myself, fantasizing about Marie shouting to her minions. "She's about yay high, brown hair and eyes. Oh I want you all to look twice when you go past a wall, she's pale so that will be good camouflage for her! Find her!! With out her I might be doomed to having to talk to someone who actually talks back, or talks about themselves, and I want to talk about me. Me, me, me!"
Only in my illusion, she was wearing an eye patch. I chuckled again.
"Oh Beverly! Over here!" Marie called in a shrill tone. I merged deeper into the cluster of people, making sure to dodge my way around all the restless bodies until I made it to Marie.
She had quite the swarm of impeccable faces sitting at her table.
"Guys, this is Beverly Wood. Beverly Wood, these are the guys." Marie introduced, poorly. If I hadn't already knew who they were, I'd be puzzled by all the eyes that looked up to admire me.
I tried to enforce a genuine smile on my lips, but I knew it came out looking fictitious and unconvincing.
At first, I tried to incorporate myself into their absurd conversations but everyone was so egotistical or vapid or some combination of the two. As soon as I became conscious of that fact, I realized all those years that they had been oblivious to my identity was blessing in disguise. How could I ever have wanted to be affiliated with these kind of people, how foolish me.--
So get a hold of me if you are interested.
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