https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10362572/1/Rio-lly-stoned

I would love kfaraday to have a group Skype call with the Botbros and read this together. I'm willing to give up all my boons for this to happen, but he already has more than enough boons anyway. That be cool though...at least for me and maybe Tim if he's still alive somewhere in cyberspace...

Rio is a childrens' movie about birds in the Amazon



RIO IS A CHILDRENS' MOVIE ABOUT BIRDS IN THE AMAZON

I will check your fanfiction for mixed tense and passive voice and then, if it all checks out, I will tell you to use less adjectives

You have mixed tense throughout, I'd say keep everything in past tense. Cut down uses of "begin to"/"began to" unless the fact that it is beginning is an important detail.

It seems conspicuous that a bird would know exactly how many yards away something is, so the use may imply the existence of a narrator, as opposed to planting ourselves in the minds of one of the birds. Make a firm decision as to whether you're expressing your story through a third-person narrator or an account of the characters' experiences.

Remember: you don't need to convey details if they're obvious, such as the second time Blu activates a song on his mp3 player; "Blu pressed play" conveys everything you want with the brevity you need.

Keep in mind I'm illiterate so you can take this with a grain of salt

Also, "replied" is a difficult word to use that often, I think. It doesn't have the literary presence of "said", which makes it stand out more to the viewer, prompting someone like me to internally think "of course s/he replied, that's inherent to the sentence you dope".

When it's obvious who's speaking, dialogue exchanges are often done without anything outside the quotations, as in this example:


"I heard her voice, Grant. That isn't a metaphor. She told me not to jump." Tilde reversed his pace.

"OK. Well, it sounds to me like you're being dramatic."

"I could have died. I knew I wasn't going to; it was a sure shot. I do crazy stunts every day. But I could have, and she was begging me."

"Tilde, calm down-"

"So!" He put on his smile. "What's next? Any insight? Maybe split the difference? Because you know, staying here is too dangerous, and going back home is too fucking safe!"

Tilde kicked the table over, sending a single paper plate flying. A moment passed in silence.

"Now I'm being dramatic."

Wow, tilde! You really give out good advice. And yeah, I get that Rio is a kids movie and blah, blah, blah. But you see, take a look at this picture and tell me if this looks childish. You see, you can mold an idea into anything you want. The only reason why I had watched Rio is that it was being showed in my biology class in high school. So yeah, I was inspired. What kind of person do you think I am? I'm not some creep who watches kids movies. Do you expect me to go on ahead and watch the sequel in a movie theater filled with kids? Of course not! Hell, if I really wanted to watch it, than I would just buy it when it comes out to Bluray like a normal person would.

http://jewel-loves-blu.deviantart.com/art/Lovebirds-Fight-Together-452784525

A young urban youth sits on the footsteps outside of his apartment; they were cold in the winter evening -- dotted by rain droplets surely on their way to freezing -- but those frigid steps were no colder than his heart.

"Shiiit...Holmes'a kick me out if I don't have my paper in tomorrow." The kid inhales sharply, the smoke in the air retreating into his mouth. He holds the smoke as prisoner for a few moments before exhaling loudly. Judging by the vapors' lessened amount, he swallowed down most of it.

"Fuck'n..." The male fumbles with the blunt in his hand. "I know what I'mma write." That revelation came after that first hit, and only expounded on itself as he took in more smoke; almost like the smoke was giving him his brain cells back, despite doing the opposite in reality.

It was weeks later when he returned to school for the first time ever since that day, with hundreds of pages in his hands. The students...the teachers...well, just about everyone looked him funny. The expression on the troubled youth's face was one of relief. A clear of his throat, and down those papers went, in a clean pile. Right on the teacher's desk.

The kid left right after that. Was never seen again, they say. But, that paper was saved in the school archives, never to be graded. Rumor has it, the report is not a report at all, but rather a story. Relatable to the black youth, the young man would probably say.

This story is a tale about birds. Birds, and drugs.