19 Sep. 1780,
My collegues and I received a most interesting visit yesterday eve. A man calling himself an interested party asked about our steam engine research. He said was from an influential Bavarian institution that would fund our advances if we agreed to help them with some biological research. I must admit, I feel skeptical that there is any future is such an activity, however my brother scientists expressed excitement. Even so, if they can help push our revolutionary (if you'll forgive the phrase) steam projects, we cannot pass up such an opportunity.
24, Sep. 1780
A most curious creature. Having the main appearance of an insect, this dimunative beast has the dexterity and flexibility of a rodent! It even has the hands of a racoon of some sort. Our Bavarian benefactor calls it a "drakul." Recognizing it instantly as the father of that infamous character Vlad the Impaler, I asked him why they named it so. He just smiled an unpleasant rictus and told us to watch. Soon enough, one of the Bavarian’s colleagues brought in a mouse and dropped it into the insect’s cage.
What happened next was an abomination before God! The strange insect was on the poor mouse as fast as lightning. The poor creature squealed in agony as the insect’s mandibles sunk deep into its flesh. Not all of my fellow scientists could watch the horrific spectacle. Understandable though it was, I found myself transfixed upon the grizzly scene. Though it seemed an eternity, it did not last long before the horrible insect withdrew its gory maw and scuttled into a far corner.
The poor mouse lay there, shivering, emitting pathetic moan-like squeaks. However, as I watched the poor creature lay in what I assumed would be its death throes, the deep wound began to slowly knit itself together. My colleagues and I all drew closer to watch this phenomenon. I tell you now, I would have thought it a miracle had I not witnessed the earlier attack.
The wound closed and disappeared as fur slowly began to grow back. Soon, there was no trace of it! The mouse had stopped its convulsive shivering and lay there quietly. Only movement of its sides told us it was still alive, just in a deep sleep.
The Bavarian waved off the questions we all began to ask at once, telling up to return two days hence, when all of our questions would be answered. I dare say, it was an invitation none of us would dream of refusing!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
In Progress...
One of the most valuable things you can do as a writer is to write down scenes that come to mind. Even if they don't seem to connect to anything else you're working on.
For instance: I wrote a quick horror-esque scene about... maybe a year ago. Nothing huge, but a boy cowering in an alley as a horrible creature bore down on him. Here, take a look.
It's short and I never thought I'd really do anything with it. Yet, a week or so I found a use for it. Sure, it bears little resemblance to what you see above, but it helped me get through an opening scene I had no idea what to do with.
Think about that. It took me a while to take the "write everything down" advice that you always hear. Now, I know what they meant. You never know when something you wrote off the cuff is going to come in handy.
So, remember that. Take a "wannabe" writer's advice :) Do write down any odd scene that comes to mind. Even if it seems like it's just an aside, you never know when you can use it!
For instance: I wrote a quick horror-esque scene about... maybe a year ago. Nothing huge, but a boy cowering in an alley as a horrible creature bore down on him. Here, take a look.
The boy ran.
He stumbled over a trash can and looked behind him, breathing heavily, eyes wide with terror.
The thing chasing him looked vaugely like a dog, but instead of fur, it was covered in scaley chiton. Its tail was long and whip-like, ending in a serrated boney spike.
The boy choked on a scream and started running again.
The creature paused briefly to savagely swat the garbage can out of the alley before picking up speed after the boy.
The boy took a corner and was horrified to be face to face with a dead end. As he spun around looking for another way out, the creature padded around the corner. Barely able to draw breath, the boy backed up against the wall.
Stopping at the entrance to the alley, the creature reared up onto its hind legs. As it straightened, its joints realigned themselves with a sickeningly wet grind and pop. It walked a few steps closer to the boy and let out a hideous hissing shriek.
The boy finally screamed.
It's short and I never thought I'd really do anything with it. Yet, a week or so I found a use for it. Sure, it bears little resemblance to what you see above, but it helped me get through an opening scene I had no idea what to do with.
Think about that. It took me a while to take the "write everything down" advice that you always hear. Now, I know what they meant. You never know when something you wrote off the cuff is going to come in handy.
So, remember that. Take a "wannabe" writer's advice :) Do write down any odd scene that comes to mind. Even if it seems like it's just an aside, you never know when you can use it!
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Fear
I think anyone that does any kind of writing struggles with fear. Fear that no one will like what you wrote. Fear that your teacher won’t give you a good grade. Fear that what you write won’t make any sense.
Now, I’m not gonna go on about writer’s block, because I think in most cases, all writer’s block is, is an excuse to dismiss the fear you feel. Put a tangible name to it. It probably helps to give writers something to fight. No one wants to deal with fear. That’s the whole point, in a way.
One think that I have noticed about my self these last several months, is that fear is insidious. Most times, you do not notice that it has crept up on you. You make excuses. “Oh, I’m too tired,” or “It’s hard to write AND work on my school work.” For me at least, I think these boil down to simple fear. After I finished the first draft of Adventure, Inc., I sent it out to a bunch of friends to read it. I decided to take two weeks to step back from it.
I think that was the worst thing I could do. As a writer, you have to write to get better. Sure, it’s okay to take some time away, that’s not the issue. But instead of working on something different right away, I did nothing. Like the whole Parallax thing with Green Lantern, I let fear into my heart. Okay, yeah, I realize how pretentious and melodramatic that sounds, but it’s true. That time I spent doing nothing gave my mind time to wonder if what I wrote was any good.
That dreaded inner editor surfaced and began picking it apart in my head. While there’s a time and place for that, generally during edits after you get feedback, you can’t let it plague you until you’re ready to actually sit down and edit. That inner editor will play on your fear, and you’ll never get anything done.
I guess that’s the moral of this post. Don’t let fear stop you from writing. I think that’s why most people never live their writing dream. Fear.
I let fear stop me from writing these last couple of months. Don’t let fear stop you!
Now, I’m not gonna go on about writer’s block, because I think in most cases, all writer’s block is, is an excuse to dismiss the fear you feel. Put a tangible name to it. It probably helps to give writers something to fight. No one wants to deal with fear. That’s the whole point, in a way.
One think that I have noticed about my self these last several months, is that fear is insidious. Most times, you do not notice that it has crept up on you. You make excuses. “Oh, I’m too tired,” or “It’s hard to write AND work on my school work.” For me at least, I think these boil down to simple fear. After I finished the first draft of Adventure, Inc., I sent it out to a bunch of friends to read it. I decided to take two weeks to step back from it.
I think that was the worst thing I could do. As a writer, you have to write to get better. Sure, it’s okay to take some time away, that’s not the issue. But instead of working on something different right away, I did nothing. Like the whole Parallax thing with Green Lantern, I let fear into my heart. Okay, yeah, I realize how pretentious and melodramatic that sounds, but it’s true. That time I spent doing nothing gave my mind time to wonder if what I wrote was any good.
That dreaded inner editor surfaced and began picking it apart in my head. While there’s a time and place for that, generally during edits after you get feedback, you can’t let it plague you until you’re ready to actually sit down and edit. That inner editor will play on your fear, and you’ll never get anything done.
I guess that’s the moral of this post. Don’t let fear stop you from writing. I think that’s why most people never live their writing dream. Fear.
I let fear stop me from writing these last couple of months. Don’t let fear stop you!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Investigations
Cynthia looked over the top of the paper she was reading and glanced at her friend. The normally tall Hitomi was slouched down in the chair across from her, the stack of newspapers she took ignored in front of her.
They were in Atlanta, looking into a bunch of strange robberies in the area. They grabbed as many different newspapers as they could, though they haven’t found much. Her friend, however had abandoned the search ad was staring into space.
“I think I’m supposed to be the quiet one, Omi. You’re upsetting the universal balance.”
Hitomi jumped slightly, and looked back at her blankly. A few slow blinks later, “What?”
The paper hid the smile that threatened to break CJ’s normally impassive expression, and she watched her friend come back from wherever she was. Most likely, Alana was there with her. “You’ve been staring into space for the last hour. These papers aren’t going to read themselves, you know.” The obvious amusement in her voice made Hitomi raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” She blew out a breath and shook her head. “Sorry, partner. I don’t know where my brain was.”
Now CJ did smirk. “Oh, I think I could give you a guess.” Her rather furious blush confirming her suspicions, she shook her head at her friend. “Oh just call her. She’s probably down at the new Institute with Buck and Mitchell checking with the construction crew. She could probably use the break.”
Hitomi muttered something about meddlers under her breath before stabbing an annoyed finger in CJ’s direction. “I could say the same thing about Mitchell you know.”
She grabbed her soda can and took a long drink, her eyes dancing with mirth, “I did. This morning when you went to get the stack of newspapers you’ve been ignoring. He said Alana says ‘hi’ by the way.”
“You suck. You know that, right?”
CJ laughed. “Sure.” She tossed her paper aside. “Nothing wrong with missing her you know. It’s perfectly natural.”
Hitomi just glowered and grabbed a paper and opened it with such force that it tore down the middle.
CJ smirked and picked up her paper.
< ——— >
“Here’s a story. I think it might be what we want.”
“What’s it say?”
“Three hurt in strange robbery. Thief dressed in bizarre animal costume. Exhibited greater than average strength.” Hitomi looked up from the paper. “That was last week. Strange that this is the only reference.”
CJ shrugged. “I’m not sure if it’s strange. It’s not like there hasn’t been other weirdness over the years. Some criminals just prefer theatrics.”
“I guess. The rest of the article plays the whole thing down. It almost feels like an attempt to get people to ignore it. Plus it’s almost buried on page seven.”
“Oh come one. How many times did the local authorities ask us to play things down to the media. Just look at what happened after those robots attacked the old institute.”
Hitomi nodded, looking sour. “How anyone could think that was a gas explosion is beyond me.”
CJ raised a brow, “Omi, people believe what they want. They see what they want to see. You could wave an alien corpse in front of some people and they’d block it out.”
Hitomi chuckled, “Nice imagery, partner.”
“You get my point. We both know the world is stranger than anyone is willing to admit. Including us, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, I get it.” She grabbed a hotel notepad and scribbled the name of the jewelry store that was mentioned in the article. “Still, you’d think it would merit more than one story.”
CJ shrugged again. “I guess we’ll see. Write down the name in the byline, too. Maybe we can ask them about it.”
Hitomi nodded and scribbled again. “Sound like a plan. Ready?”
“Always.”
They were in Atlanta, looking into a bunch of strange robberies in the area. They grabbed as many different newspapers as they could, though they haven’t found much. Her friend, however had abandoned the search ad was staring into space.
“I think I’m supposed to be the quiet one, Omi. You’re upsetting the universal balance.”
Hitomi jumped slightly, and looked back at her blankly. A few slow blinks later, “What?”
The paper hid the smile that threatened to break CJ’s normally impassive expression, and she watched her friend come back from wherever she was. Most likely, Alana was there with her. “You’ve been staring into space for the last hour. These papers aren’t going to read themselves, you know.” The obvious amusement in her voice made Hitomi raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” She blew out a breath and shook her head. “Sorry, partner. I don’t know where my brain was.”
Now CJ did smirk. “Oh, I think I could give you a guess.” Her rather furious blush confirming her suspicions, she shook her head at her friend. “Oh just call her. She’s probably down at the new Institute with Buck and Mitchell checking with the construction crew. She could probably use the break.”
Hitomi muttered something about meddlers under her breath before stabbing an annoyed finger in CJ’s direction. “I could say the same thing about Mitchell you know.”
She grabbed her soda can and took a long drink, her eyes dancing with mirth, “I did. This morning when you went to get the stack of newspapers you’ve been ignoring. He said Alana says ‘hi’ by the way.”
“You suck. You know that, right?”
CJ laughed. “Sure.” She tossed her paper aside. “Nothing wrong with missing her you know. It’s perfectly natural.”
Hitomi just glowered and grabbed a paper and opened it with such force that it tore down the middle.
CJ smirked and picked up her paper.
< ——— >
“Here’s a story. I think it might be what we want.”
“What’s it say?”
“Three hurt in strange robbery. Thief dressed in bizarre animal costume. Exhibited greater than average strength.” Hitomi looked up from the paper. “That was last week. Strange that this is the only reference.”
CJ shrugged. “I’m not sure if it’s strange. It’s not like there hasn’t been other weirdness over the years. Some criminals just prefer theatrics.”
“I guess. The rest of the article plays the whole thing down. It almost feels like an attempt to get people to ignore it. Plus it’s almost buried on page seven.”
“Oh come one. How many times did the local authorities ask us to play things down to the media. Just look at what happened after those robots attacked the old institute.”
Hitomi nodded, looking sour. “How anyone could think that was a gas explosion is beyond me.”
CJ raised a brow, “Omi, people believe what they want. They see what they want to see. You could wave an alien corpse in front of some people and they’d block it out.”
Hitomi chuckled, “Nice imagery, partner.”
“You get my point. We both know the world is stranger than anyone is willing to admit. Including us, I’m sure.”
“Yeah, I get it.” She grabbed a hotel notepad and scribbled the name of the jewelry store that was mentioned in the article. “Still, you’d think it would merit more than one story.”
CJ shrugged again. “I guess we’ll see. Write down the name in the byline, too. Maybe we can ask them about it.”
Hitomi nodded and scribbled again. “Sound like a plan. Ready?”
“Always.”
Friday, January 30, 2009
Warped Doors
By the time Larry came back to fix the door, Rob had could absorb and extrude a variety of objects. The larger the object, the more difficult the process and the more painful it was to extrude it. The process wore him out, and his hand felt like it was covered pin pricks.
Larry knocked and pushed the door open. “Hey, Rob. I’m going to reseat the door. It shouldn’t take all that long. Hey, what’s with all the fruit?”
“Trying to see if I could absorb it.”
“Any luck?”
“Well, it goes in okay but nothing comes out.”
“New way to eat?”
“Ha. Good to know it doesn’t work, in case my life depends on having an apple at a moments notice.”
Larry shook his head and dropped his tool box by the door. “How the luck otherwise?”
“Not bad. There’s a trick to it, but once you have that.” He shrugged. “Not going to say it’s easy, but less difficult.” He paused, “Not surprised I’m trying to learn to control it?”
Larry turned to face his friend from where he was getting his tools ready. “Rob, I would be surprised if you didn’t. In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never really sit idly by if there’s something you can do about it.”
Rob shrugged, a bit uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t feel right not doing anything.”
“Exactly. That’s what makes you who you are.” He turned back to the door.
Rob sat back and looked at the array of objects in front of him. Including the new pile of wooden toothpicks what used to be part of a desk. Looking at his now normal looking arm, he blew out a sigh. Something to be said for normalcy, even if it was an illusion.
“Woah!” Rob turned at the shout and saw Deb holding a hand to her chest, and Larry leaning the door against the inside wall.
“Ah, sorry Deb. Didn’t know you were out there.”
“No. No, that’s okay. You just don’t expect the door in front of you to leave its hinges.” She brushed passed him and tossed a small overnight bag into Rob’s bedroom. “Clothes.” Larry raised his eyebrows speculatively as she dropped onto the couch next to Rob. “You tried it on fruit?”
“Yeah. I think it just breaks down into my system though. It never comes back out.”
“Good to know. Otherwise?”
He shrugged, and told her how his hand felt, then showed her the new pile of toothpicks. This earned him a hug and bright smile. He offered to show her his progress but she shook her head.
“You said it was getting a bit painful to do? Then no. Show me tomorrow after you’ve had some rest, okay?”
“Alright. I’m not sure I could have done it anyway.” He flexed his hand and winced. “Food?”
She shrugged. “Works for me. Let’s order in, though. Pizza?”
“Cool. Larry?”
“Yeah, you know what I like. I’ve gotta take this door downstairs. It’s warped all to hell. I’m pretty sure I’ve got a spare in the basement. Be back soon.”
They watched him wrestle the old door out into the hallway. Rob started laughing quietly.
“What?”
“Isn’t it odd? A normal thing like a having a door replaced in the midst of all the craziness.”
She watched him for a moment, eyebrows raised. The she laughed too. “Isn’t it so right that the old door was warped?”
They both laughed until their eyes started to water.
Larry knocked and pushed the door open. “Hey, Rob. I’m going to reseat the door. It shouldn’t take all that long. Hey, what’s with all the fruit?”
“Trying to see if I could absorb it.”
“Any luck?”
“Well, it goes in okay but nothing comes out.”
“New way to eat?”
“Ha. Good to know it doesn’t work, in case my life depends on having an apple at a moments notice.”
Larry shook his head and dropped his tool box by the door. “How the luck otherwise?”
“Not bad. There’s a trick to it, but once you have that.” He shrugged. “Not going to say it’s easy, but less difficult.” He paused, “Not surprised I’m trying to learn to control it?”
Larry turned to face his friend from where he was getting his tools ready. “Rob, I would be surprised if you didn’t. In all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never really sit idly by if there’s something you can do about it.”
Rob shrugged, a bit uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t feel right not doing anything.”
“Exactly. That’s what makes you who you are.” He turned back to the door.
Rob sat back and looked at the array of objects in front of him. Including the new pile of wooden toothpicks what used to be part of a desk. Looking at his now normal looking arm, he blew out a sigh. Something to be said for normalcy, even if it was an illusion.
“Woah!” Rob turned at the shout and saw Deb holding a hand to her chest, and Larry leaning the door against the inside wall.
“Ah, sorry Deb. Didn’t know you were out there.”
“No. No, that’s okay. You just don’t expect the door in front of you to leave its hinges.” She brushed passed him and tossed a small overnight bag into Rob’s bedroom. “Clothes.” Larry raised his eyebrows speculatively as she dropped onto the couch next to Rob. “You tried it on fruit?”
“Yeah. I think it just breaks down into my system though. It never comes back out.”
“Good to know. Otherwise?”
He shrugged, and told her how his hand felt, then showed her the new pile of toothpicks. This earned him a hug and bright smile. He offered to show her his progress but she shook her head.
“You said it was getting a bit painful to do? Then no. Show me tomorrow after you’ve had some rest, okay?”
“Alright. I’m not sure I could have done it anyway.” He flexed his hand and winced. “Food?”
She shrugged. “Works for me. Let’s order in, though. Pizza?”
“Cool. Larry?”
“Yeah, you know what I like. I’ve gotta take this door downstairs. It’s warped all to hell. I’m pretty sure I’ve got a spare in the basement. Be back soon.”
They watched him wrestle the old door out into the hallway. Rob started laughing quietly.
“What?”
“Isn’t it odd? A normal thing like a having a door replaced in the midst of all the craziness.”
She watched him for a moment, eyebrows raised. The she laughed too. “Isn’t it so right that the old door was warped?”
They both laughed until their eyes started to water.
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