Tags: writing


get yer short fiction right hurr!

Okay, so.

I need to get back into practice writing stuff that isn't fanfiction. Therefore, this is a flash fiction request post. No garuntees on quality of pieces.

Here's how it works:
Give me one word. No more, no less.
you may in adittion to that one word request a setting, character, or genre. NO FANFIC. By setting or character I mean stuff like "swamp planet, gentleman thief, clockpunk; Vestibule." you may request characters and settings I have written before (ie, "Garath-mal, duck-dragon")

For nonfiction, just specify that when you ask.


Addendum: characters I have played in tabletop games (ie, Blaze Auryn , Tarin Varkyne) count as original characters.
jesus christ its a house

consciousness; stream of

pardon my pretension, but occasionally I vomit words; spew ideas and it all comes out like a high-schooler's madness, gladness, badness; I blame Danielweiski, the fool. I dream of staircases and of monsters in the dark and I will never think of else again. Characters are burning in my soul and twisting myself to something new again and I'm a million different people from one day to the next, I can't change my mode, no, no, no; my shape shifts and I am unmade and remade and perhaps fReemade books are in my blood and I am words, words, words; do I write anything new or do I just regurgitate, recycle and renew? Maybe in our green-obsessed world this is a fine and dandy thing, after all we're nothing but sequels and remakes but I want the new. I'll destroy, I'll burn down the status quo because I want something new.

Gods. I am undone. I am undone. I break from my false reality and my real reality still unfolds and unbinds. I don't know where I am. And yet I remind myself that all this has happened before and will happen again. I will survive this. I will endure, and in enduring grow strong. Can you catch all the allusions I've made? I'm a rotting cesspit of festering pop-culture garbage, the space between my ears filled by inconsequence.

I'll survive.

But at what cost? At no cost; I'm thinking like a high schooler again, thinking that I'm the only one in the world this has ever happened to the only one this happens to and that's a lie. I am not a beautiful or unique snowflake. I am the same decaying organic matter as everyone else. Hi. This organic matter is dreaming and is reaming and streaming out thoughts, bleeding words from a shotgun wound.

Don't worry. I'm not depressed, I promise. Just thinking. Bleeding ink from paper skin. I've been listening to Johnny talk too long.

I have to finish this thesis.
jesus christ its a house

Senior Seminar Topic

Senior Seminar Topic:

"Darkness of the Unknown: Fear of the Unfathomable from Beowulf to House of Leaves"

May the gods have mercy on my soul.

(I will be discussing Lovecraft a lot but he's not in the title. Sorry Lovecraft.)

The NANO is dead. Long live the NANO

Basically, due to having to finish projects, I got stuck at 12,000~ words and haven't written a syllable more.
For those of you who would pull out the argument that PLENTY of nanoers balance essays + final projects + real life + novel, know that I am not those people. Know that I spent literally this entire weekend trying to finish two essays and a painting, and that I missed not one but two DnD sessions, the school play (Which is a BIG DEAL for me, considering that the entire theatre department regularly camps out on my floor. I'm expecting to wake up with broken knees someday) and pretty much doing anything fun. I'm also behind on one of my other projects and haven't even started packing to go home on Wednesday yet.

Anyway that's not what this is about. This is about the actual Nano itself.

Honestly I'm not sure how to feel about those 12,000 words. I, personally, am disgusted with them and don't think they are worth continuing.

On the other hand? I have 12,000 words, a solid idea of both character and plot, which is something I don't get very often. Even if I hate writing some of it, I know where it is and where it's going, which is something.

So I ask this. Does anyone out there want to see the horrific mess that is my 12,000 words of aborted nano fetus, either now or once November is over? I'm NOT looking for editors yet, per se; I'm looking for a general "Yeah, even if you hate it I'm pulled in and compelled; I really want to know what happens!" or "Other than your prose which is at least readable this is valueless trash I hate all the characters and want them to DIAF."

Plot synopsis? "Boy goes to Japan. Boy has emotional problems [hay this sounds familiur]. Boy meets crazy bouncy romantic comedy heroine girl [wait not anymoar]. Girl causes boy to re-evaluate his life. Unfortunately for Boy, Girl seems to be from a dark comedy and then things take a turn for the Weird and Surreal, becuase Ryuu is writing this story and damned if she isn't going to write surrealist postmodern wtfery."

Interested y/n?

Holy shit!

You know, I am behind. I am only at 11,400 words, ish

But I realized something this morning upon reading the pep talk:

I have a plot.

I have a plot and a coherent ending. I still have to get from where I am to where I am going but the plot is there.

Really, not so bad, considering that this novel began literally as a cop-out. Have I explained what I'm even writing ABOUT yet?

Basically, I didn't want to have to think too hard about my characters or setting. I've noticed that when I try to come up with a vast sprawling fantasy world, or even a fantastic realism world, I spent all day thinking about the cosmology and the physics and the why and how and don't think about the who and what.

So I took one side of myself - the meek, shy, quiet side who wants to be told what to do with my life, and I made him male. I mixed him up with a melange of traits from other meek, shy male friends of mine.
Then I took the other side of myself - spunky, well-traveled, wild eyed and wondrous. I mixed in a lot of pieces of some women I know but mostly every one of my meek, shy male friend's fantasies, the way they seem to think I am, and threw in every romantic comedy heroine I've ever seen.

Then I went on TV tropes and saw that, as usual, they have a word for the latter sort of character

So setting and what's going on at the time? Given that I'm still dealing with this shit, I went ahead and dropped them in Chiba, Japan, basically sending them to the same study abroad program that I was at. I put them in the positions of myself and one of my few good friends on the program, though their relationship ends up rather drastically different than ours did (If you're reading this, very drastically different, and I don't think of you in the same way at all.) A lot of the events that I've described thus far are caricatures and exaggerations of things that really did happen to me; I even mention by name a few places I've actually been.

It's a bit surreal and I worry a lot that this is cheating. I'm writing about a self-insert doing things that I did except some more extreme things happen. The main difference is that I don't think life is going to end at all happily for this man; whilst unless there's something you all aren't telling me, my life is going in a pretty good direction (or so I'd like to think.)

I don't, after all, have a Manic Pixie Dream Boy dragging me around by the wrist and taking all my money.

Also, Manic Pixie Dream Girl is absolutely a working title (yes, I named it after the trope!); I'm probably going to end up calling it She after the Abney Park song. Yes, I'm a dork.

I don't think I'm going to get to 50,000 words by November 30. But I have more than 11,000 words. That's something. And if I can continue to chip away slowly but surely like I have been, I might have 40,000 words by month's end. That's not bad. When I get there, I think I'm going to ask someone to look it over and tell me if it's worth it to continue or if I should drop it now and run far, far away.

I hope though... I hope that I have something here. It's different than anything else I've ever written - it's realism (kinda) for once. I dunno if I'm getting any deep exploration of the human spirit here, but... well. It's more words than I've ever written about the same thing in such a short period of time (the volume of information on Shadows of the Dawn is absolutely more, but that was written over the period of what is now more than ten years, and SotD is much less coherent than this story is thus far).

And isn't that the point? To prove to oneself that it is possible? That the impossible is possible, reachable, touchable, and that even if this novel isn't all that great that you are capable of writing this much?

Hoom. So let's see where we go. As one of my protagonists like to say, "Stop worrying about the future. Just close your eyes, jump feet first into it, and damn the consequences."

(no subject)


Though I'm sure you are all tired of these daily "here is my wordcount" posts.

I am hating it slightly less. My hope now is that I can get from where I am at to where I should be before the end of the month. It doesn't have to be 50,000 words; but it has to get from where the protagonist is in the beginning to where he is in the end.

... so from a decently put together but boring person to an insane, broken shell of a man.

Hooray! I am a cheerful person.

(no subject)

behind on nano. didn't update yesterday. might not get to it today. should try anyway. doesn't help that I hate this novel.

(no subject)

Yeah I totally did that voting thing. And I got free Starbucks for it. And almost got free Kirspy Kreme for it except there was no Krispy Kreme near my place of residence.

I am behind by 8 pages on my Nano novel. oops.