حلال Connor Bible - Everyone's Favorite Molly Ringwald loving, adoption hating, aspiring writer and bellybutton fucker

[Sigyn]

Spoiler: Conner the Movie

http://goanimate.com/videos/0DFHqGp...utm_medium=linkshare&utm_campaign=usercontent

No but really, It's good to see that he's at least trying to work on things.. I wonder if it'll last this time.

 

[Meowthkip]

No More Lullabies- A young mother, unable to sleep, kills her allegedly mutant baby. Or does she?

I kind of want to read this one.

 

[DN 420]

Connor let me say you at least have a gift in making synopsis' that are really compelling. Maybe you should be a literary agent instead.

 

[Chan the Wizard]

Drop the "allegedly."
The unable to sleep part conveys that she may be delusional and "mutant baby" is a better hook than "allegedly mutant baby." And since you're ending with a question I would leave it with only question for readers.

 

[Dudeofteenage]

Connor let me say you at least have a gift in making synopsis' that are really compelling. Maybe you should be a literary agent instead.

That's never been the problem, though, has it?

Connor excels at telling people what he's going to write. He's not so good at actually writing it. The problem is that the former isn't a remotely useful skill.

 

[BriarHeart]

Daily reminder that Connor doesn't actually want to write. He wants to write about writing, so that he can get asspats and attaboys and be told how "creative" he is. He wants to hear that people are interested in what he has to say, but once he hears that, he never produces any further content. Why should he? He's already gotten what he wants.

 

[Conrix]

Daily reminder that Connor doesn't actually want to write. He wants to write about writing, so that he can get asspats and attaboys and be told how "creative" he is. He wants to hear that people are interested in what he has to say, but once he hears that, he never produces any further content. Why should he? He's already gotten what he wants.

I wouldn't think that needs to be said more than once. At least it seemed like he was trying this time. Until he flaked out on posting his short stories. As usual. [/rates Optimistic]
https://kiwifarms.net/styles/default/xenforo/clear.png

 

[Philosophy Zombie]

Daily reminder that Connor doesn't actually want to write. He wants to write about writing, so that he can get asspats and attaboys and be told how "creative" he is. He wants to hear that people are interested in what he has to say, but once he hears that, he never produces any further content. Why should he? He's already gotten what he wants.

One time when he came around I asked him if he enjoyed writing. He said something along the lines of "yeah, but it's hard to get to work". Honestly looking back at it, I think he just said that because he knew that was the answer that sounded the best.

 

[MysticMisty]

That's never been the problem, though, has it?

Connor excels at telling people what he's going to write. He's not so good at actually writing it. The problem is that the former isn't a remotely useful skill.

It's worth reminding that Connor's actually tried to get other people to write his stories for him.

 

[registereduser]

It's worth reminding that Connor's actually tried to get other people to write his stories for him.

Really? I must've missed this.

 

[Ruin]

It's worth reminding that Connor's actually tried to get other people to write his stories for him.

Do tell.

 

[Sigyn]

It's worth reminding that Connor's actually tried to get other people to write his stories for him.

That was on WP right? From what I recall from Screenshots, He tried to commission someone to write his story idea exactly how he wanted it. I could be wrong though.

 

[MysticMisty]

It was probably WP, but it could have been another forum, or even multiple forums. At any rate, I don't know if @Smutley has all the screencaps up again or not.

 

[silentprincess]

The Redesigning of Redesigning Eva

Authors Notes: This is a redesign and moving parts around, mockery, and help with tips for the original author. I myself am not a brilliant writer, and I am probably just as bad as the original author. All I want to do is help them and show how terrible the story is, as well as guide them with tips. Some of what I will say will sting, but I am one of those people who will go straight to the gut and not prance around.

Spoiler

The Redesigning Of Redesigning Eva


PROLOGUE: THE DREAM THAT HAS COME FROM NOWHERE


Why were her dreams always the same, and yet so different?


Why is she telling you all this so early on?


That’s right, she was written this way.


Anyway back to what this chapter should have been named as in the first place, ‘The Prologue’ maybe…?

It has been like this for the past few months,andsomething about them never felt quite right…

For one thing, the factshe found them to be to troublesome because she would, for the first time in her life, experience an emotion that she couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain with any specific flavor, or articulate with any genuine flavor since the original writer didn’t even give her any. I'm not really sure what to say that will not upset your delicate sensibilities. She is just a mere shadow, or blob that never gets filled entirely so ends up being a 1 dimensional character with nothing human or something that makes the reader care about her.


And another thing criticism is a good thing to have some of the most successful writes have been knocked back from publishers' and told to come back when they have sorted out parts of their stories, making them became better authors. If you go around thinking I am the best thing ever then you are never going to learn from your mistakes and the problem with this generation.


To be honest with herself, she found it easier to just embrace them; nonetheless filled with so many unspoken feelings,the words would never come to her as to what it was meant to invoke as to why she was written so badly.


The strange dream continuously opened in the same manner every night, with scenes playing out vividly before her that haven’t even been introduced yet, but let’s continue anyway. Which usually means a person has feeling in their in their dream, emotions, and see all details as if she was living it in real life.


Nevertheless, she would be lying on the grass in Hollenbeck Park like a model on a photoshoot, because that is how the original writer envisioned it to be like since it’s younger Molly Ringwald. (Oops I let the cat out of the bag; the main female character is based on The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink Molly). Looking intently up with eyes wide at the clear cerulean sky with faint ghost like clouds peering through. Like any bad movie script or fan fiction story there is no full descriptions or characterization, nor will she ever know how she got there, or why she was there.


As was previously said a paragraph ago, It would be a beautiful day, which was a rarity in her life, since she is written like a Mary Sue so expect her to have everything causing her heartache, pain, magical powers, and needing to be saved. There was no one around to bother her, nothing that left a shadow over her considering there are always shadows cast even in dull weather, the sun still passes through enough to cast them. Even the strange crotch fungus guy whose voice boomed in her ears as he narrated a badly written verse of really edgy dialect, repeating words, grammar, and articulating are a recurring problem. Of which he could easily correct, if the writer took people’s advice when presenting to others for constructive criticism, as well as using the thesaurus once and a while.


For her character it was all so new, and it enveloped her like a soft cushioned blanket that brought her a cloud of hope that one day she will get out of this horrendous story someday dead or alive.

Getting swiftly back to the special foreshadowing dream that doesn’t need to be told yet however is the only thing in the plot that we get to read. The city of Los Angeles would be surprisingly quiet in that dream, as if she was on the set of The Walking Dead, 28 Days Later, or The Omega man, not that it is going to get as thrilling as them of course. It just seemed to be less hectic without the herds of people scuttling along the pavements similar to sheep; instead it was peacefully less like an alien inhabited planet to her. Certainly she may have lived in the City of Angels for the longest time, but to be honest she has never really felt a part of its relaxed culture and lifestyle and great quantity of models/actresses. She found the thought and experience she has of living and the concept of later when her time would come, dying in L.A dumbfounding. In spite of that, she fascinatingly found this new emotion, this day, was not as flabbergasting as it appears to her. Not in the slightest.

When she contemplates about the dream version of the water at Hollenbeck, which just happens to appears not far from where she would be lying relaxed and free. In the same behavior that dreamily balances her own, and her emotional state within this intangible realm within an alternate reality, it would be serene. Even though on the surface it presented itself as a giant slick puddle, the water would rise up and slide down the edge of the grass. Which in turn seemed to live in symmetry with the now just happens to be mentioned wind whooshed and faded intermittently in that so called perfect day.

Of course as a character who will never get much back history, so for consideration for the poor readers she acknowledges they have nothing to compare this to. However, under those circumstances she forgives the readers, and confirms that out of all the dreams that she has had in her short life so far, one has never been this detailed or profound, and certainly not as lasting.


Let’s return to the dream in hand shall we, from where we last left off.

Just as she pondered as to why she was having such a distinct and intense dream such as this, all of a sudden, against the blue sky, there would be another edgy and unsurprisingly unoriginal plot device by the author. This one being a beautifully colored majestic/ dull weak looking butterfly beating its wings, to expand on this revelation firstly it was an unfamiliar addition for her to comprehend. Furthermore because the combination of the water was providing a melody and the wind accenting nicely with a rhythm, it seemed as though the beating of its wings were hitting the right notes it was synchronized as well for supplying the percussion.

Then like any rinse and repeat suspenseful thriller moment in any textbook heavy dependency in copying the plot from an already copyrighted published source material, combined with recycling of terrible fan fiction clichés you should stay away from. At the same time, the author in a moment of condescending self-assurance thought that the main character needed to try and use this as a philosophical symbolization, of complexity and deepness to the character.


Therefore the character would think that the most interesting detail of the dream she was having, was the fact that the docile butterfly which obviously the author did not bother to specify in detail, even though it is an important plot element. Which could have helped the reader to visualize the moment much better; describing the coloring would be helping the reader understand how this was strange.


The brightly colored insect/ exhausted insect drained of its stunning colors had hovered elegantly/ drowsily down to her landing in her open left palm, and stay there. Keeping her palm as steady as possible so not to frighten the beautiful butterfly away, when the moment of unrecognizable feelings passes, she appears to start subtly relax. Subsequently, she would slowly move her eyes to the butterfly’s small watchful ones, exchanging quiet eloquent scrutinizing eyesthat stare straight, into her ownabsolutely unfocused on the external stimuli. It would be the moment she deliberately discovered the clarity, of sheer admiration of the nameless sensation she was undergoing had reached a critical pointmade her insides shiver—intentional implications, or not— she retained the emotions.


Meanwhile, that will instigate the creator to rub his sweaty, crusty and fungus ridden hands together while he smirked at his own total genius. As well as in conjunction with a substantial dependence in his thinking of how many copies of his story he will sell in bookshops worldwide and secure rights to a movie deal.


After hours of finding new places to rub, including his wobbly man bits, at his own brilliance of being a prodigy, and the thought of Molly Ringwald’s top riding up a smidgen to reveal her bellybutton. Instantly, he then in the euphoric rush of ecstasy, with hands and now being unable to fondle his wobbly man fragments because they are so crusted, smelling of cheese, and decay, that fungus are germinating on them into mushrooms.


Finally he is able to recommence in typing his work of genius once more…


Warming it doesn’t get any better!

Before she could actually fully realize what it was because again the author would not let the unfortunate characterless girl have feelings, which I guess is done intentionally since he’s thinking in terms of making a film rather than a story where people visualize the scenes in their imagination. Thus that is why the poor uninspiring butterfly is not considered important; nevertheless it would unexpectedly take off from her smooth pale palm, and instead of flapping away towards the sky in search of attractive succulent flowers for nourishment.


The aforementioned creature glided in the direction of the calm and surreal water beside her, at the same time causing her hand to hover in the air for a moment, before she drops it softly to her side carefully landing on the soft grass. Watching the butterfly absorbedly, andpreoccupied to take notice of the peripheral stimuliturning into a dreamy blur, yet another overwhelming emotion begins to seep into her. Time, once running smoothly, begins to wind downit is just too much for her to take, spoiling the natural tranquil ambiance around them.

Immediately as if possessed, she gets up from her laying position on the grass not bothering to brush off any dirt that may be on her clothing, and resembling someone who is being mind-controlled or entranced. She starts to run after the butterfly, in slow-motion like an excited small child chasing something new unaware of anything around her, especially when the weather begins to change for the worse. The warm sun suddenly disappeared behind heavy low drifting charcoal clouds, and following this the sky slowly being swallowed up into a murky depressing blackness.


As soon as she felt the tears welling in eyes and begin to roll down her face, which was when the large raindrops began to fall. To say it is simply raining would be the understatement of the year; instead, it would describe more as if the world has been turned upside down and the oceans are falling from the sky.

She was soaked right through to the bone, yet continued in her sleepwalking state; she came to the edge of the water lapping her feet and soaking the grassy verge. Not stopping, she dives into the water fully clothed, and goes down after the butterfly.

And down.

And down deeper.

And down deeper and deeper, until there was no light from above.

Waking up in a cold sweat, Eva Elliot the Mary Sue from hell would never have known this nightmare would continue for the next three months.

 

[BOLDYSPICY!]

The Redesigning of Redesigning Eva

Authors Notes: This is a redesign and moving parts around, mockery, and help with tips for the original author. I myself am not a brilliant writer, and I am probably just as bad as the original author. All I want to do is help them and show how terrible the story is, as well as guide them with tips. Some of what I will say will sting, but I am one of those people who will go straight to the gut and not prance around.


The Redesigning Of Redesigning Eva


PROLOGUE: THE DREAM THAT HAS COME FROM NOWHERE


Why were her dreams always the same, and yet so different?


Why is she telling you all this so early on?


That’s right, she was written this way.


Anyway back to what this chapter should have been named as in the first place, ‘The Prologue’ maybe…?

It has been like this for the past few months,andsomething about them never felt quite right…

For one thing, the factshe found them to be to troublesome because she would, for the first time in her life, experience an emotion that she couldn’t understand, couldn’t explain with any specific flavor, or articulate with any genuine flavor since the original writer didn’t even give her any. I'm not really sure what to say that will not upset your delicate sensibilities. She is just a mere shadow, or blob that never gets filled entirely so ends up being a 1 dimensional character with nothing human or something that makes the reader care about her.


And another thing criticism is a good thing to have some of the most successful writes have been knocked back from publishers' and told to come back when they have sorted out parts of their stories, making them became better authors. If you go around thinking I am the best thing ever then you are never going to learn from your mistakes and the problem with this generation.


To be honest with herself, she found it easier to just embrace them; nonetheless filled with so many unspoken feelings,the words would never come to her as to what it was meant to invoke as to why she was written so badly.


The strange dream continuously opened in the same manner every night, with scenes playing out vividly before her that haven’t even been introduced yet, but let’s continue anyway. Which usually means a person has feeling in their in their dream, emotions, and see all details as if she was living it in real life.


Nevertheless, she would be lying on the grass in Hollenbeck Park like a model on a photoshoot, because that is how the original writer envisioned it to be like since it’s younger Molly Ringwald. (Oops I let the cat out of the bag; the main female character is based on The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink Molly). Looking intently up with eyes wide at the clear cerulean sky with faint ghost like clouds peering through. Like any bad movie script or fan fiction story there is no full descriptions or characterization, nor will she ever know how she got there, or why she was there.


As was previously said a paragraph ago, It would be a beautiful day, which was a rarity in her life, since she is written like a Mary Sue so expect her to have everything causing her heartache, pain, magical powers, and needing to be saved. There was no one around to bother her, nothing that left a shadow over her considering there are always shadows cast even in dull weather, the sun still passes through enough to cast them. Even the strange crotch fungus guy whose voice boomed in her ears as he narrated a badly written verse of really edgy dialect, repeating words, grammar, and articulating are a recurring problem. Of which he could easily correct, if the writer took people’s advice when presenting to others for constructive criticism, as well as using the thesaurus once and a while.


For her character it was all so new, and it enveloped her like a soft cushioned blanket that brought her a cloud of hope that one day she will get out of this horrendous story someday dead or alive.

Getting swiftly back to the special foreshadowing dream that doesn’t need to be told yet however is the only thing in the plot that we get to read. The city of Los Angeles would be surprisingly quiet in that dream, as if she was on the set of The Walking Dead, 28 Days Later, or The Omega man, not that it is going to get as thrilling as them of course. It just seemed to be less hectic without the herds of people scuttling along the pavements similar to sheep; instead it was peacefully less like an alien inhabited planet to her. Certainly she may have lived in the City of Angels for the longest time, but to be honest she has never really felt a part of its relaxed culture and lifestyle and great quantity of models/actresses. She found the thought and experience she has of living and the concept of later when her time would come, dying in L.A dumbfounding. In spite of that, she fascinatingly found this new emotion, this day, was not as flabbergasting as it appears to her. Not in the slightest.

When she contemplates about the dream version of the water at Hollenbeck, which just happens to appears not far from where she would be lying relaxed and free. In the same behavior that dreamily balances her own, and her emotional state within this intangible realm within an alternate reality, it would be serene. Even though on the surface it presented itself as a giant slick puddle, the water would rise up and slide down the edge of the grass. Which in turn seemed to live in symmetry with the now just happens to be mentioned wind whooshed and faded intermittently in that so called perfect day.

Of course as a character who will never get much back history, so for consideration for the poor readers she acknowledges they have nothing to compare this to. However, under those circumstances she forgives the readers, and confirms that out of all the dreams that she has had in her short life so far, one has never been this detailed or profound, and certainly not as lasting.


Let’s return to the dream in hand shall we, from where we last left off.

Just as she pondered as to why she was having such a distinct and intense dream such as this, all of a sudden, against the blue sky, there would be another edgy and unsurprisingly unoriginal plot device by the author. This one being a beautifully colored majestic/ dull weak looking butterfly beating its wings, to expand on this revelation firstly it was an unfamiliar addition for her to comprehend. Furthermore because the combination of the water was providing a melody and the wind accenting nicely with a rhythm, it seemed as though the beating of its wings were hitting the right notes it was synchronized as well for supplying the percussion.

Then like any rinse and repeat suspenseful thriller moment in any textbook heavy dependency in copying the plot from an already copyrighted published source material, combined with recycling of terrible fan fiction clichés you should stay away from. At the same time, the author in a moment of condescending self-assurance thought that the main character needed to try and use this as a philosophical symbolization, of complexity and deepness to the character.


Therefore the character would think that the most interesting detail of the dream she was having, was the fact that the docile butterfly which obviously the author did not bother to specify in detail, even though it is an important plot element. Which could have helped the reader to visualize the moment much better; describing the coloring would be helping the reader understand how this was strange.


The brightly colored insect/ exhausted insect drained of its stunning colors had hovered elegantly/ drowsily down to her landing in her open left palm, and stay there. Keeping her palm as steady as possible so not to frighten the beautiful butterfly away, when the moment of unrecognizable feelings passes, she appears to start subtly relax. Subsequently, she would slowly move her eyes to the butterfly’s small watchful ones, exchanging quiet eloquent scrutinizing eyesthat stare straight, into her ownabsolutely unfocused on the external stimuli. It would be the moment she deliberately discovered the clarity, of sheer admiration of the nameless sensation she was undergoing had reached a critical pointmade her insides shiver—intentional implications, or not— she retained the emotions.


Meanwhile, that will instigate the creator to rub his sweaty, crusty and fungus ridden hands together while he smirked at his own total genius. As well as in conjunction with a substantial dependence in his thinking of how many copies of his story he will sell in bookshops worldwide and secure rights to a movie deal.


After hours of finding new places to rub, including his wobbly man bits, at his own brilliance of being a prodigy, and the thought of Molly Ringwald’s top riding up a smidgen to reveal her bellybutton. Instantly, he then in the euphoric rush of ecstasy, with hands and now being unable to fondle his wobbly man fragments because they are so crusted, smelling of cheese, and decay, that fungus are germinating on them into mushrooms.


Finally he is able to recommence in typing his work of genius once more…


Warming it doesn’t get any better!

Before she could actually fully realize what it was because again the author would not let the unfortunate characterless girl have feelings, which I guess is done intentionally since he’s thinking in terms of making a film rather than a story where people visualize the scenes in their imagination. Thus that is why the poor uninspiring butterfly is not considered important; nevertheless it would unexpectedly take off from her smooth pale palm, and instead of flapping away towards the sky in search of attractive succulent flowers for nourishment.


The aforementioned creature glided in the direction of the calm and surreal water beside her, at the same time causing her hand to hover in the air for a moment, before she drops it softly to her side carefully landing on the soft grass. Watching the butterfly absorbedly, andpreoccupied to take notice of the peripheral stimuliturning into a dreamy blur, yet another overwhelming emotion begins to seep into her. Time, once running smoothly, begins to wind downit is just too much for her to take, spoiling the natural tranquil ambiance around them.

Immediately as if possessed, she gets up from her laying position on the grass not bothering to brush off any dirt that may be on her clothing, and resembling someone who is being mind-controlled or entranced. She starts to run after the butterfly, in slow-motion like an excited small child chasing something new unaware of anything around her, especially when the weather begins to change for the worse. The warm sun suddenly disappeared behind heavy low drifting charcoal clouds, and following this the sky slowly being swallowed up into a murky depressing blackness.


As soon as she felt the tears welling in eyes and begin to roll down her face, which was when the large raindrops began to fall. To say it is simply raining would be the understatement of the year; instead, it would describe more as if the world has been turned upside down and the oceans are falling from the sky.

She was soaked right through to the bone, yet continued in her sleepwalking state; she came to the edge of the water lapping her feet and soaking the grassy verge. Not stopping, she dives into the water fully clothed, and goes down after the butterfly.

And down.

And down deeper.

And down deeper and deeper, until there was no light from above.

Waking up in a cold sweat, Eva Elliot the Mary Sue from hell would never have known this nightmare would continue for the next three months.

SP, you're back! I missed you!

& oh, I needed this. Did I ever need this. Brava, my dear. This is beautiful. Seeing a total sweetheart sarcastically rip something to shreds puts my black heart at ease.

 

[silentprincess]

SP, you're back! I missed you!

& oh, I needed this. Did I ever need this. Brava, my dear. This is beautiful. Seeing a total sweetheart sarcastically rip something to shreds puts my black heart at ease.

Aww that is so sweet, thank you.

Hopefully I'll get chapter 2 up soon. I'm planning on doing all the chapters.

 

[ToroidalBoat]

Welcome back to posting, @silentprincess!

Connor, do you still want to move out from your parents' house? If so, have you done anything towards that goal?

Spoiler: interesting trivia

Also, the hometown of Connor has a Wikipedia article in Mandarin. It's called 皇家港口 (Huángjiā Gǎngkǒu).

https://zh.wikipedia.org/wiki/皇家港口_(南卡罗来纳州)

 

[It's HK-47]

@Connor

Connor.

CONNOR. A thought occurs.

Since you seem so-recently enthralled with shorter stories, and since @BOLDYSPICY! is the veritable champion of your <appropriate term here>, why not offer to work in collaboration with her in the interest of making a few, short comic panels? Circuits knows that you have a much deeper affinity for the visual adaptation of stories than you do the purely written form, if your fascination with cinema and television is to be of any indication.

 

[Venusaur]

Hey @Connor ! I was going through Science to look for some interesting news articles and I came across one that I think would be of interest to you.

Some researchers studied how parents treated their adopted children vs. their biological children. Would they treat their biological children better than their adopted ones? Well...

Here's the link to the article: http://news.sciencemag.org/biology/...r-biological-children-over-their-adopted-ones

Here's a link to the paper: http://www.ehbonline.org/article/S1090-5138(15)00025-2/pdf

 

[The Knife]

@Connor , I just want you to know that I'm about to ruin a perfectly good student's academic credibility because she chose to plagiarize a published work--far less extensively than you did, by the way. I'm literally sick to my stomach over this, and I'm half-hoping that my findings are wrong, but in my heart, I know they're not.

One paragraph, man. That's all it took.