(no subject)
based on my blog posts:
I write like
Stephen King
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
Based on my creative writing:
I write like
J. K. Rowling
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
“You're just so lucky you're a lesbian,” Katie sighed, setting down her tray in the bustling cafeteria. “Women would be so much easier.”
Chaia looked up from her uninspiring salad and arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, women are never complicated or frustrating at all. All of my relationships have consisted of pillow fights, long talks over chocolate ice cream, and slow love making to k.d. lang.” She shook her head, stabbing at the lettuce on her plate with particular ferocity.
A cheerful voice piped up from her left side. “Well, I do braid your hair sometimes,” she smiled brightly, flipping her long dark hair over her right shoulder, disturbing the silver earring that lay against her jawline.
“Hi, Lara,” Chaia muttered, kissing her softly. Chaia dug into her backpack, pulling out a lime green sandwich container. She tossed it onto the table offhandedly, sending her fork across the table in an unforeseen collision.
Katie caught it as it attempted to make an escape, setting it nervously back in front of Chaia. “Why did you bother coming to the cafeteria if your dad packed you lunch?”
“Maybe, I wanted more than just a sandwich,” she snapped, pulling open the container. “God damn it, Dad! Why do you always buy this freaky grain bread?! I know we're vegetarians and all, but I feel like an ecoterrorist eating this crap!” She slammed the lid back onto the container, shaking the table, before forcing the container angrily into her bag.
“Um, are you maybe projecting your issues onto the sandwich?” Lara gestured toward Chaia's backpack. “I'm just saying. Sandwich violence is preventable.” She put her arm around Chaia's shoulder, draping the other around her until her hands met. “What's going on with you, love?”
Chaia disentangled herself from Lara's embrace and picked up her tray, scooping her backpack off the floor in one smooth movement. “I just...I've got a lot to do. It's not you,” she kissed Lara's slightly open mouth. “I swear.” She walked away, dropping her tray onto the belt without even bothering to sort her recycling.
I write like
Stephen King
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
Based on my creative writing:
I write like
J. K. Rowling
I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!
“You're just so lucky you're a lesbian,” Katie sighed, setting down her tray in the bustling cafeteria. “Women would be so much easier.”
Chaia looked up from her uninspiring salad and arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, women are never complicated or frustrating at all. All of my relationships have consisted of pillow fights, long talks over chocolate ice cream, and slow love making to k.d. lang.” She shook her head, stabbing at the lettuce on her plate with particular ferocity.
A cheerful voice piped up from her left side. “Well, I do braid your hair sometimes,” she smiled brightly, flipping her long dark hair over her right shoulder, disturbing the silver earring that lay against her jawline.
“Hi, Lara,” Chaia muttered, kissing her softly. Chaia dug into her backpack, pulling out a lime green sandwich container. She tossed it onto the table offhandedly, sending her fork across the table in an unforeseen collision.
Katie caught it as it attempted to make an escape, setting it nervously back in front of Chaia. “Why did you bother coming to the cafeteria if your dad packed you lunch?”
“Maybe, I wanted more than just a sandwich,” she snapped, pulling open the container. “God damn it, Dad! Why do you always buy this freaky grain bread?! I know we're vegetarians and all, but I feel like an ecoterrorist eating this crap!” She slammed the lid back onto the container, shaking the table, before forcing the container angrily into her bag.
“Um, are you maybe projecting your issues onto the sandwich?” Lara gestured toward Chaia's backpack. “I'm just saying. Sandwich violence is preventable.” She put her arm around Chaia's shoulder, draping the other around her until her hands met. “What's going on with you, love?”
Chaia disentangled herself from Lara's embrace and picked up her tray, scooping her backpack off the floor in one smooth movement. “I just...I've got a lot to do. It's not you,” she kissed Lara's slightly open mouth. “I swear.” She walked away, dropping her tray onto the belt without even bothering to sort her recycling.