Oh, j'aime vraiment beaucoup le deuxième jet, il est très réussi !

Je te suggère de mettre "Even the sky is the color of ash", sans le "of". Non seulement c'est plus correct, mais c'en est aussi bien plus fluide à entendre.

Un avis cette fois personnel, j'enlèverais le "like some", trop explicite, pour ne laisser que "they are heavy mountains of coal". Je trouve que ça sonne beaucoup mieux dans le poème, et nul n'est besoin de préciser que c'est une métaphore, en l'occurrence. C'est à toi de voir.

En tout cas, oui, j'aime vraiment le deuxième.

Oh, merci beaucoup Half
Je vais suivre tes conseils, ils sont très biens. Et comme pour lundi je dois améliorer le prose poème ou le sonnet, je pense que je vais me décider pour le prose poème.

Sinon, j'ai posté les images dont e t'avais parlé hier sur mon LJ (plus pratique de les héberger en ligne) http://pics.livejournal.com/miss_device/gallery/0000q7dx
Je crois avoir loqué la gallerie en friend only, sauf que si j'ai fais n'importe quoi à la place, peut être ne pourras tu le voir. Dis le moi dans ce cas.

Aaaaaaaah merci pour l'aperçu ! J'aime bien la crasse sur le camion et la vieille roue. Et j'aime beaucoup la position de Jimmy, elle est bien réussie ! Aw il est mimi, le Teddy, avec sa salopette trop grande... Ah la la, c'est-y pas une belle paire de pécouses aux hormones désorientées ? Y a des chèvres pour ça, bande de petits invertis ! Ma seule doléance serait la suivante : crois-tu que tu pourrais rendre la pose un peu plus dynamique ? En faisant fléchir éventuellement les bras et en les faisant agripper plus sèchement, par exemple ? Enfin on en rediscute.

ARGHL Lilith, le Teddy-lapin... Gosh, il est superbe !! Ces oreilles et cet air contrarié lui vont vraiment à ravir, ma foi ! Monumental ! ^^ Et le vibro-carotte est lui aussi de toute beauté, on en tâterait !
En tout cas il plairait à M'sieur Merry et M'sieur Pippin, pour sûr.
Pour une fois tu n'as pas tort, Sam.
Quant au dessin de Maytag penché derrière sa petite culotte, il m'a fait éclater de rire quand je l'ai vu, et la course-poursuite en fond est vraiment très évocatrice.

Merci pour toutes ces merveilles !

Salut salut,
Ça fait quelque temps que je n'ai plus posté d'exercice de Creative Writing ici mais j'ai pensé que celui-ci pourrait vous intéresser.
Notre dernier assignment consiste à écrire 3 pages de dialogue théâtrale sur n'importe quel sujet (et j'avoue n'être absolument pas inspirée). L'exercice lui consiste à répondre à un certain nombre de questions là dessus, pour nous aider à caractériser nos personnages (désolée pour la traduction, faite au fur et à mesure) :

1) Quels sont les plus grandes forces de vos personnages ? Ses faiblesses ?
2) Qu'est ce qui inspire vos personnages ?
3) Qu'est ce qui les rend totalement fous ?
4) Quelles relations entretiennent-ils ?
5) De quoi sont-ils le plus effrayés ?
6) Qu'aiment-ils ? N'aiment-ils pas ?
7) Si vous pouviez boire un verre avec l'un de vos personnages, lequel choisiriez-vous ? Pourquoi ?
Quel boisson prendrait-il/elle ? Pourquoi ?
9) Quelle est la voix de chacun de vos personnages ?
10) °Ont-ils une façon de parler particulière ?
°Répètent-ils des actions ? Des mots ? Des phrases ?
°Comment leurs personnalités émergent-elles de leurs paroles ?

Je viens de m'apercevoir aussi que je n'avais pas posté le début de ma nouvelle ici.
Ce n'est pas un devoir de Creative Writing mais de Littérature, donc si y'en a que ça intéresse... La nouvelle en question.[/u]

Lol, tu n'as qu'à reprendre le texte du sketch que Katsou et moi avions mis en scène lors d'un Nouvel An entre lanterneuses ! ^^'''

Comme d'hab', si une correction peut t'être utile, je suis là. Je compte bien aller lire ta nouvelle un peu plus tard dans le week-end.

Ouai, je vais voir ce que j'arrive à produire. Le truc c'est que pour l'instant tout ce que j'arrive à sortir est assez plein de gros mots, et ça à l'air d'être choquant pour les américains.

Oui, ma chère nouvelle. Je n'ai vraiment fait que le début jusqu'à présent, et je me rend compte que je suis sensée la rendre jeudi... Me faudrait être inspirée là.

Pop pop pop. Je poste le tout juste finit...
Dommage pour vous, ni le gras ni l'italique ne sont passé...
Sur ce, je m'en vais m'évanouir de fatigue.


First Scene.

Pete : Advocate. Slim, nervous. A brunette. 45 years old but seems older.
Andrea : Cop. Energetic and easy to anger. About 25 years old.
Edward : Private Eye. Dressed in green, always playing with his can. 35.
James : FBI Agent. Bright blue eyes, blond hairs, in his early forties.

The room is in plain concrete, light-gray painted, with a table in the center, some chairs are around. Against the up-stage wall, stands a coffee machine. A red light goes on and off on the wall, above the machine.
In the left corner, up-stage, are man and a woman, back to the public. They look at something near their feet.

Pete : - Do... do you think he's dead ?

Andrea : - Judging by the distance between his corpse and his head I'd say yes, he is. But you know me, I'm not an expert.

Edward : - Well well well, Andrea my dear. Would I dare to say that you seem a little... sarcastic this evening ? (Content with himself) Yes, I dare !

Pete (faintly) : - Oh my god he's dead.

Andrea : - What the fuck are you doing here, Edward ? Have you anything to do with the riot ? Or the murder ?

Edward : - Really sweety, your actual lack of deductive skills, I mean, a lack even deeper than usual, is scaring me. I, obviously, went here for the sole purpose of interrogating some delinquent individual imprisoned here and... The entire building is in high level alert, the door down the hall, as well as most of the doors of the prison, is presently sealed so I am as... arh... you'd say “stuck” here as you are.

Pete (as faintly as before) : - Dead... he's... he's dead...

Andrea (red with rage, just managing not to shout at him) : - And for the murder ?

Edward (slightly annoyed, contemptuous) : - Oh please, I know you cops are chosen for their lack of brain and bovine behavior but for the love of all dear, stop asking inept questions !

Andrea (goes quickly toward Edward, in large strides, looking like she's about to punch him) : -You little...

James : - What. Is. Going. On. In. Here ?

Everybody turn to see him

Pete (hysterically, shouting really loudly) : - He's dead !

James (glares at him) : - Who is dead ?

Andrea : - It's not of your damn business ! It's a police business !

James (smiles at her, flirting) : - Oh, I didn't see you, lovely lady ! (goes near her, gently takes one of her hand. Uses a deep and rich voice) Hello you. You see, it's a wonder that this is police business because it appears that I'm an FBI agent. (shows his badge) I'm Jesse. James Jesse (wink at her) At your service. And, you are... ?

Andrea (very coldly) : - I, mister Jesse, am... a cop. A very pissed off and very not interested at all cop.

James (winks again at her then turns to the others) : - So, where is this corps ? (is very cheerful).

Pete (panicking) : - He's here. Ohmygod ohmygod please someone does something !

James (sees him and grins wildly) : - Pete ? You ? Here ? What a delightful surprise ! So, wanna show me our dead buddy ?

Pete (trembling, shows him) : - He's here and... the head is.. is here.

James (bends over, staring at the corpse and examining it) : - Well, he sure looks dead ! (beaming)

Edward : - Oh, all our thanks to you, Ô great, dashing and clever God of the cluemasters ! Now, I'd like to ask the real question... Was he dead before or after that we were the only people looked up in here ?

Andrea (growling) : - Hey ! It's true ! Where the heck are you coming from, you fucking Fed ?

James (delighted) : - I was in the... How should I say it to a lady ? Bathroom ? Toilet ? Oh I know ! I was, lovely lady, in the powder room !

Pete (bursts suddenly into a real loud and cackling laughter, hysterically) : - The powder room ! Hahah !

Edward : - Ô Divinities dearest, we are so dead... (Lets himself fall sitting onto a chair).

Andrea (clears her voice and her mind by coughing a little) : - Alright guys ! I propose that, given that we're all suspects, and by that unable to properly run the investigation before then end of the riot, we just sit down, waiting for the rescuers to come in.

They all do that. The lights went down, the stage is in the dark, just stays lightning the red alarm one.

Second Scene.

All the same characters.

They are all sitting around the table, some of them with cups from the coffee machine in front of them. They are all silent and seem bored to death, as if they were here for hours already.

Pete : - Can't we at least put... something on him ? I... I really can't stand any more, seeing him rot just there.

Andrea and James (in the same monotonous tone) : - Do not touch or disturb the scene of crime.

Edward (snickering) : - Listen to this brave, self-righteous and well-trained law enforcers...

Andrea and James (simultaneously) : - Shaddap ! (Andrea glares at James who smiles brightly and smugly at her).

Pete : - Hey James... You seem a bit... preoccupied... what's on your mind?

James (looks at him, playful) : - You mean, apart from the whole prison riot and confinement thingy ? (Sighs then says, more seriously) Well, I think I'm going to be a grandfather.

Pete : - Really ? (all his face lits up) So who's the lucky girl who managed to put a hand on your little Dick ?

Everybody stare at him blankly. Pete's face goes all white.

Pete (stammers) : - I... I meant... I didn't mean to... I... (shouts) I know that your dick's anything but little !

Edward (shocked, incredulous) : - Pete ? Boss ?

Pete (panics again) : - I meant... Richard ! Your son ! Richard... (breathes with some difficulties)

James (pets kindly Pete's shoulder) : - Don't worry bud...

Andrea (ironical and pissed off) : - Edward old chum ? Would you be so kind to explain to all of us why you did just call our friend Pete over there “Boss” ?

Edward (tense and defending himself) : - Well Andrea my dear old “I'never'have'no'clue” friend... Of course I've worked for Pete. He's an advocate after all, and me a private eye. It's only natural that two being looking for a truth, that no one of our beloved so called “detectives” at the police have enough brain cells to find, join forces most of the time. I mean, enough brain cells even if they put them in common.

James (menacing) : - The job that brought you in there in the first place, the interrogation. It was for ol'Pete ?

Edward (stares at James as if he know something worth blackmail about him. Voice low and full of threatening innuendo) : - Well... It's funny that you ask me that because... It happens to be a case that you might find... Oh, quite interesting... (talks as if for himself) Oh yes, quite interesting indeed... and most entertaining too... yeah...

Andrea : - What are you talking abo...

Big noises from the hall, sounding like some prisoners trying to open the sealed door

Pete (stands up) : - Oh my god ! We are going to die !

Lights fall again. End of Act One.

Merci beaucoup Half !
C'est là que je vois quant même que écrire un texte entre minuit et 3h du mat' et pas le relire, ça... fait des dégâts. Comme le lawyer en effet (que j'ai heureusement vu et corriger au stylo avant de rendre mon devoir).
Tes corrections me sont, comme toujours, très précieuses.

Sinon je suis très très contente que tu ais compris la blague sur "Dick" elle semble avoir totalement échappé à ma prof, qui n'y a, apparemment, rien compris.
Du coup je sais pas si je dois garder ce passage là ou pas...

La suite... héhé. J'y ai réfléchit en fait (à 3h et demi de ce matin là).
Les prisonniers n'arrivent pas à défoncer la porte, mais l'atmosphère est tellement tendue, surtout après une coupure d'électricité qui les plonge dans le noir, qu'ils finissent par s'entretuer.
Et on découvre que c'est James qui a tué l'homme, en fait son coéquipier du FBI, parce qu'il avait mis enceinte sa fille (à James. La petite sœur de Richard). Mais en fait tout ça a été (riot compris) orchestré par Pete.

Lol ! Eh bien, quelle histoire !!

Ah, mince, du coup tu avais déjà rendu ton devoir, c'est ça ?

CHPONG

Maaaaais elle a quel âge, ta prof ? Parce que là, franchement, si elle a pas compris la blague, je m'inquiète pour elle ! Elle est du genre duègne victorienne qui vit dans la littérature british au point de se laisser couvrir de toiles d'araignée sans même le remarquer, ou bien ?
Parce que, rrrrooh, quand même . Garde-là ta blague, elle fonctionne très bien.

N'est ce pas ? Tout ce qu'on peut faire dans les prisons comme histoires... (d'ailleurs, j'adore la réplique de Teddy que tu a cité. C'est juste trop drôle.)

Oui je l'ai rendu mais vu que c'était à rendre le lundi matin 10h30 et que je l'ai finit le lundi matin à 3h01...
De toute façon je dois le réécrire pour lundi.

Non même pas, elle est toute jeune et tout, 30 ans a tout casser... D'ailleurs elle avait apprécié mon "red hot juice" pour le sang, donc je m'étais dis que bon...
Après, je crois qu'elle est américaine, peut être que le référence au sexe la choque...
Peut être n'at-elle pas compris juste parce qu'elle a pas osé lire le passage en entier (c'est l'impression que j'ai eu en tout cas).
Et elle veut que je rende ça "plus clair".

Ah ben comme ça ma correction aura quand même servi à quelque chose.

Citation:

Peut être n'at-elle pas compris juste parce qu'elle a pas osé lire le passage en entier (c'est l'impression que j'ai eu en tout cas). Et elle veut que je rende ça "plus clair"

Lol !! Si tu dois rendre ça plus clair il va falloir lui faire un dessin de pénis en annexe !
En même temps, si elle n'avait pas osé affronter le passage, elle ne t'aurait pas donné comme consigne de l'expliciter, non?

Mais franchement, Ana, si tu fais plus clair, ce sera plus une blague. Même pour moi, qui ne suis pas native, c'était limpide. Explique-lui juste de quoi il retourne entre adultes. Dis "male genitals", ça fera très professionnel.

_________________

Bah oui je sais bien... En plus je la trouvais marrante moi cette blague... Bah, je la laisse, de toute façon, elle est maman depuis pas longtemps alors je suppose qu'elle en a vu d'autres (haha).

Merci en tout cas, de ton avis éclairé. Je suis rassuré à vrai dire.

Tu sais, depuis l'immaculée conception, on ne peut plus se fier à personne.

Retravaillé un peu mon texte.
Re gros merci Half, parce que tes corrections m'aident vraiment, d'une part à avoir un meilleur texte mais aussi à comprendre les erreurs et éviter de les refaire.

First Scene.

Pete : Lawyer. Slim, nervous. A brunette. 45 years old but seems older.
Andrea : Cop. Energetic and easy to anger. About 25 years old.
Edward : Private Eye. Dressed in green, always playing with his can. 35.
James : FBI Agent. Bright blue eyes, blond hair, in his early forties.

The room is in plain concrete, light-gray painted, with a table in the center, some chairs around. Against the up-stage wall stands a coffee machine. A red light goes on and off on the wall, above the machine.
In the left corner, up-stage, are a man and a woman, back to the public. They look at something near their feet.

Pete (straightening and turning a bit toward the public): - Do... do you think he's dead ?

Andrea (doing a similar movement) : - Judging by the distance between his body and his head I'd say yes, he is. But you know me, I'm not an expert.

Edward (coming from a door at the opposite of the stage) : - Well well well, Andrea my dear. Would I dare say that you seem a little... sarcastic this evening ? (Content with himself) Yes, I dare !

Pete (faintly, stepping back from the corpse, curling in the corner of the coffee machine) : - Oh my god he's dead.

Andrea (who turned immediately to face Edward) : - What the fuck are you doing here, Edward ? Have you anything to do with the riot ? Or the murder ?

Edward (standing right in the middle of the stage, one hand on the table, the other playing with his cane) : - Really sweety, your actual lack of deductive skills, I mean, a lack even deeper than usual, is scaring me. I, obviously, came here for the sole purpose of interrogating some delinquent individual imprisoned here and... The entire building is in high level alert, the door down the hall, as well as most of the doors of the prison, are presently sealed so I am arh... as you'd say... “stuck” here as you are.

Pete (as faintly as before) : - Dead... he's... he's dead...

Andrea (red with rage, just managing not to shout at him) : - And for the murder ?

Edward (slightly annoyed, contemptuous) : - Oh please, I know you cops are chosen for your lack of brain and bovine behavior but for the love of all dear, stop asking inept questions !

Andrea (goes quickly toward Edward, in large strides, looking like she's about to punch him) : -You little...

James (coming from the same door as Edward before, and staying near it) : - What. Is. Going. On. In. Here ?

Everybody turns to him

Pete (hysterically, shouting really loudly, still hidden from James in his corner) : - He's dead !

James (glares at the coffee machine) : - Who is dead ?

Andrea : - It's none of your damn business ! It's a police business !

James (smiles at her, flirting) : - Oh, I hadn't seen you, lovely lady ! (goes near her, gently takes one of her hands. With a deep and rich voice) Hello you. You see, it's a wonder that this is police business because I happen to be a FBI agent. (shows his badge) I'm Jesse. James Jesse (winks at her) At your service. And, you are... ?

Andrea (very coldly) : - I, mister Jesse, am... a cop. A very pissed off and very not interested at all cop.

James (winks again at her then turns to the others, very cheerful) : - So, where is this corpse ?

Pete (panicking, jumping out of his corner) : - He's here. Ohmygod ohmygod please someone do something !

James (sees him and grins wildly) : - Pete ? You ? Here ? What a delightful surprise ! So, wanna show me our dead buddy ?

Pete (trembling, shows him) : - He's here and... the head is.. is there.

James (goes near him, bends over, staring at the corpse and examining it) : - Well, he sure looks dead ! (beaming)

Edward : - Oh, many thanks to you, Ô great, dashing and clever God of the cluemasters ! Now, I'd like to ask the real question... Was he dead before or after we were the only ones locked up in here ?

Andrea (growling and turning toward James) : - Hey ! It's true ! Where the heck are you coming from, you fucking Fed ?

James (straights himself up, almost jumpily, delighted) : - I was in the... How should I say it to a lady ? Bathroom ? Toilet ? Oh I know ! I was, lovely lady, in the powder room !

Pete (bursts suddenly into a real loud and cackling laugh, hysterically) : - The powder room ! Hahah !

Edward : - Ô dearest Divinities, we are so dead... (slumps onto a chair).

Andrea (clears her voice and her mind by coughing a little and turns to face the public) : - Alright guys ! I propose that, given that we're all suspects, and in that respect unable to properly run the investigation before the end of the riot, we just sit down, waiting for the rescuers to come in.

They all do that. The lights go down, the stage is in the dark, except for the red alarm.

Second Scene.

All the same characters.

They are all sitting around the table, some of them with cups from the coffee machine in front of them. They are all silent and seem bored to death, as if they had been here for hours already.

Pete : - Can't we at least put... something on him ? I... I really can't stand it any more, seeing him rot just there.

Andrea and James (in the same monotonous tone) : - Do not touch or disturb the scene of crime.

Edward (snickering) : - Listen to these brave, self-righteous and well-trained law enforcers...

Andrea and James (simultaneously) : - Shaddap ! (Andrea glares at James who smiles brightly and smugly at her).

Pete : - Hey James... You seem a bit... preoccupied... what's on your mind?

James (looks at him, playful) : - You mean, apart from the whole prison riot and confinement thingy ? (Sighs then says, more seriously) Well, I'm... I'll... It appears that... I think I'm going to be a grandfather.

Pete : - Really ? (all his face lits up) Good news, finally ! So who's the lucky girl who managed to put a hand on your little Dick ?

Everybody stares at him blankly. Pete's face goes all white.

Pete (stammers) : - I... I meant... I didn't mean to... I... It's not what I... I... (shouts) I know that your dick's anything but little !

Edward (shocked, incredulous) : - Pete ? Boss ? Boss what are you sayi...

Pete (panics again) : - I meant... Richard ! Your son ! Richard who's nicknamed Dick ! Like all the Richards ! (breathes with some difficulties)

James (pets kindly Pete's shoulder) : - Don't worry bud...

Andrea (ironical, pissed off and wanting to change the subject) : - Edward old chum ? Would you be so kind as to explain to all of us why you did just call our friend Pete over there “Boss” ?

Edward (tense and defending himself) : - Well Andrea my dear old “I'never'have'no'clue” friend... Of course I've worked for Pete. He's an lawyer after all, and me a private eye. It's only natural that two beings looking for a truth, that none of our beloved so called “detectives” in the police has enough brain cells to find, join forces most of the time. I mean, enough brain cells even if they put them in common.

James (menacing) : - The job that brought you in there in the first place, the interrogation. It was for ol'Pete ?

Edward (stares at James as if he knew something worth blackmailing him. Voice low and full of threatening innuendo) : - Well... It's funny that you ask because... It happens to be a case that you might find... Oh, quite interesting... (as if for himself) Oh yes, quite interesting indeed... and most entertaining too... yeah...

Without being seen, Pete, looking worried, guilty and a bit menacing, is trying to sneak off.

Andrea : - What are you talking abo...

Big noises from the hall, sounding like some prisoners trying to open the sealed door.

James (to the public, in a monotone tone) : - Oh my god... We are going to die...

Lights fall again. End of Act One.