T Nation

Calling All Writers


I want to make a thread for all of T-Nation's writers (fiction), a venue for us to exchange ideas and the lingual conconctions of our minds. Basically, a place for us to exchange stories and ideas. Post your writing, discuss your themes, meet people to PM, etc.

Personally, I write a lot of satires and poems. I'm currently working on a rather dark work of fiction. I will post some poems if there is interest.


It seems like the more I write, the darker and and harsher my environment and stories become. It just appeals to me a lot more, I guess.

Once I tried writing some short kid's stories. Damn, I quit after the first one.


What did this short kid do that was so worthy of story telling?


Oh shit, that is funny!


I'm at work Kombat, so here's a quick one for you. And there's plenty more...


     The way the rabbit runs:
     Snake, Hawk, Gun.


I actually like this idea, so I guess I'll post one.

The following is a story I wrote. Note that this isn't based on a real-life experience. Not really.

I was sitting at my computer, surfing the Internet like every other moron without a life does at night. I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to do something out of the ordinary. I had already completed all of my daily activities, so I walked outside without reason. I shuffled through the leaves on the way to my truck. I didn't know where I was going and I didn't need to know. It was some place different.

The gentle hum of my sewing-machine-sounding engine was a relief - it signified my going somewhere. Somewhere different. I shifted into gear and sped away from my home, no destination in mind, not really. I let my subconscious take over my steering.

Not real smart, you might think. It's okay, though, I'm still alive. Anyway, my subconscious took me down the same roads I travel every day. Goddamn my subconscious, always leading me everywhere I've already been.

I got to my destination, my university. I had no reason for being here at this time of night, so I decided I'd let my subconscious take me somewhere new, somewhere unexplored. So I let my mind wander, and I began thinking about things.

My life was getting pretty goddamn boring, and I didn't have anything on the horizon either. So I figured maybe it was time for a change, seeing as how I'd just keep doing this if I didn't deliberately do anything to change my ways a little bit. It was just after the new year, and I thought it would be better to make a late new year's resolution than none at all. I decided I was going to change.

Seriously, I'd just up and do it this year. I'd make more friends, have a social life - I'd spend most of my nights out. I just needed to get away a little more was all. My routines were too set, I needed to be more spontaneous. I'd do that too.

Fucking home. Somehow, my dumbass subconscious had driven me all the way back here. As I stepped out of my truck, I heard the familiar crunch of leaves. I decided right then and there to do something spontaneous: I picked up a leaf. I looked at it, how it was all dried out and almost crumbled just from my touch.

I guess you could say it was fragile, but usually folks only say glass and stuff is fragile. Whatever, this is my way of being spontaneous. I knew that fragile leaf had once been something green and full of life. At least, as full of life as a goddamn leaf can be. That leaf changed, and I figure if a leaf can change, then I can too.

I walked back into my house, since I couldn't think of anywhere else to drive, and sat down to think. That's very unusual for me. I'd have never done it except for that I wanted to be spontaneous. And new. I thought about how it's sad a man can never really escape these days.

Someone always knows where he is. For instance, I can't just drive off without my neighbors knowing I've done so. Even if they're too stupid to know, someone will see me when I'm out. I can't just hide, not really. I guess that's why I went out tonight in the first place.

As I headed up the stairs, I stopped. Not because I had any reason to, really, but just because I was being spontaneous and all. I stood there and just started thinking, real hard. I don't usually do that either.

Spontaneous. I thought back to last hour, just before I was walking down these stairs. I wondered what had prompted me to go outside. That overwhelming urge to do something out of the ordinary, it was almost like I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I didn't know why, so I walked up the remaining stairs and sat down at my computer again.




I'm writing a short story that I realized could very easily be the background to one of Tyler Durden's characters in Project I know Fight Club fans are plentiful here so I will post it when it's done.


I used to be really into this back in high school (I was going to write novels for a living) and I've got good news for you.

You're about to find out the title of the greatest book on writing fiction EVER.

Stein On Writing
by Sol Stein

If you're serious about writing well, Go to Amazon or whatever and get yourself a copy right this second. Or steal one from somewhere.

Once you start reading this thing you'll be shaking your head in amazement at what you learn.

If you do get it, I guarantee you'll PM me to say, "Good lord, what a kick-ass book!" . . . or something like that.



i mainly write storys based on my day dreams, i like to jot notes down during the day to keep track of events going on in my head.

i guess some of my writing style comes from the writer i look up to the most, and that is hunter s thompson.


So...is anyone else going to post some stuff, or are we just going to talk about the things we "write"?


Probably just talk.