*Exaggerate every syllable of the story with the Jimmy Fallon “Ew” voice for effect.
In response to:
It was dark like a shadow; the empty night was cold, and it felt like ghosts were watching from the underbrush. A leaf crunched loudly under my trembling feet, and I, thinking it was the lurking beast of the night, jumped in fright. The graveyard was as dead as the people laying in it. I was in the graveyard because my friends had dared me to go, so, being a high school teenager, I couldn’t resist giving into peer pressure. The wind was like a whisper from the dead of night. Suddenly a large crash happened right in front of me, and my vision went completely dark. I laid there, scared for my soul, but realized, in the darkness, that I had just tripped over a gravestone, and that it was dark because my eyes were closed. After I opened my eyes, I got up and walked forward. Suddenly a hand grabbed my arm, and I cried tears of fear because I was too young to die. After about thirty minutes of sitting in the fetal position I realized it was just a tree branch. Feeling really embarrassed, I began walking back, and started thinking of the heroic story I would tell my friends. Right as I was about to leave the graveyard, a rumbling like an earthquake shook the ground before me. Once again returning to the fetal position, I peered from behind my arms, and realized the galloping like sound had stopped. Looking behind me, I started laughing because I’d gotten scared from something so obvious: My favorite rainbow unicorn Steve! Crazy the scares you have in the darkness of the night.
P.S. The darkness was dark.
P.S.S. The night was as quiet as silence.
P.S.S.S. It was cold like temperature.
P.S.S.S.S. My spirit was as fortuitously strong as marshmallows.
The end end.
So clearly, by now, if you haven’t noticed, this story is a joke. As a writer I believe we are constantly challenged by the content choices we make, and the pressure to gain views and likes resulting in content choices, in any and all media outlets, I believe has really undercut the integrity and sincerity of the system and content as a whole. Throughout my time thinking on this subject, the one question that always seemed to originate was: What makes a writing piece successful, what makes it popular, and how does one get recognized for their work? The true answer is… I could not tell you for the life of me. I can laugh at the story I’ve written because I’ve seen popular writing and stories in tune with the cliche and overused concepts of pop-culture. When writing becomes a careless task, for the reader, it becomes a method of mindlessness, which may or may not be the philosophy of modern day anyways. I find this unfortunate; where has the importance gone in thought provoking action and learning? Where are the publishers and industry leaders soliciting and promoting this type of thinking? I believe I have a long way to go, and a beacoup des choses to learn. Cheers to the small voices deserving of so much more. Until then…
The end end end.