Camp NaNoWriMo Winner

I guess this is where a photo of my writing pens in flexing pose would go. Or a photo of my keyboard flexing, or whatever the equivalent of a writer’s biceps flexing would be. But maybe that lovely banner up there is just enough to get the point across. My goal for 2015’s Camp NaNoWriMo was 30,000 words. Understandably that might not feel like a big deal and it’s obviously almost half of what the traditional NaNoWriMo is. Yet, for anyone who has been following my weekly updates on the matter (7 Days, 14 Days, 22 Days, and a recap of the last week will probably follow tomorrow when hopefully my brain is more cooperative), it should be fairly clear that April is a ridiculously busy month for me.

Not only are there a lot of holidays (which contrary to what one might expect, take away your free time instead of giving you more), there’s a also my birthday, my volunteering as moderator at four different places, some job hunting, and a lot more I’m unable to list at the moment (mostly because my brain is trying to erase any knowledge of them so I’ll never think about them). On top of all that there might have been traces of a social life. That’s mainly why I went for 30K instead of 50K, which I knew wasn’t going to happen. And I’m not using that as an excuse, it’s more of a clarifier.

Everyone who has attempted NaNoWriMo of any form does not need excuses for how bad they’ve done. It’s not a job and it’s not for anyone else but yourself. It’s a personal project based on a hobby and when all is said and done the only thing that matters is that one is satisfied with their own final result. That being said, I’m ecstatic about my own results. Not solely because I’ve managed to write the freaking 30K I promised myself I’ll reach by the end of the month, but because I’m impressed with the story so far. Yep, so far, it’s not actually done yet. In fact, t might be a long while before it’s completed. While I’ve managed to write roughly 1000 words every day for 30 days, I cannot keep up that pace throughout the whole year — while I may act like it at times, I’m not a robot. Though that’d be pretty cool.

Anyway, it’s been a long day for me and I feel I’ve had enough of words, phrases, sentences, and paragraphs for now. I should get a proper rest and probably do some catching up with the TV shows I follow. I do hope all of you are enjoying your week, and for everyone else who manages to hit their Camp NaNoWriMo target, congratulations (and late congrats to all those who did so in the past several days)! To those who attempted but didn’t quite hit the mark, even bigger congratulations! You’ve done your best, tested the waters, explored the grounds, yada yada — it should help you accomplish your goal on your next run. Merlin knows we all fail, definitely more frequently than we win, so don’t let that discourage you and keep working. Rome wasn’t built in a day, even though you’re certainly free to try.

I’m off to do a victory dance and cuddle with my bed.

Mine’s not as good but you get the point.

Short Story Sunday: Letters to No One

The old black teapot was fuming, signaling it’s had enough of that heat and wants to get off the stove right now. Mr. Blinchley on the other hand was in no rush, he lived alone and rarely had company so he enjoyed any sound that broke off the monotone silence, even if it came from a teapot. Plus he felt cold, despite the fireplace going, and a cup of hot tea would help with that more than a barely warm one. It was April, the week of Easter, but it appeared that the weather missed the memo. The temperature was dropping with each passing day instead of rising as it should, so Mr. Blinchley penned it a winter in disguise in his letters.

Maybe it wasn’t just the weather though, Arthur Blinchley was about to enter his ninetieth year of life and age certainly makes some adjustments to the weather forecast. It makes the winds feel heavier, the rain louder, and the sun weaker. Mostly it makes the cold feel colder, and puts a man a season or so behind in attire. For everything beyond that, he decided it’s all a matter of personal choice. We ourselves choose when we give up, when not to get out of bed, and when we stop doing the things we love. The answer Mr. Blinchley was aiming to leave as an example for everyone else was never. That’s why on his work desk where his favorite chair was situated, lied a pile of letters.

Letters were like a piece of magic for him. And since magic strayed from the ordinary and mundane, he never sent any letters around Christmas anymore. He preferred waiting till the Easter holidays. The few months between the two holidays gave him just about the right time he needed to read several times the letters he received, and then to come up with just the right responses they deserved. The longer he was with them the more special they felt. He had set on a mission to live his days alone, and for better or worse he found he excelled at the task. Yet every now and then he felt the loneliness creep in behind his mind and give him distant memories, enchant his dreams with company, force him to wake up with a craving for friendship. The letters helped him with that. They reassured him he still has all that even though nowadays he rarely sees anyone but the milkman, the newspaper boy, and the employees in the shop across the street.

With the cup of tea in his hands to warm the old bones, Mr. Blinchley sat down at his desk, admiring the handwriting he’s mastered over the years. If those letters did not include personal details and told the dreary tale of his life, they might have been considered a piece of art. At least he wanted to think so. Just as he often thought of the excitement these letters might give to his carefully selected recipients. Yet he knew the truth, especially with this new age and technology, is that most of them were likely uncomfortable or ashamed to be receiving and sending written letters.

Arthur Blinchley also pondered why the letters have not been sent yet. You see, they were already written, signed, placed in lovely light yellow envelopes, unpleasantly licked and carefully closed. Now they were simply sitting as a pile, gathering dust and reminding him that one of these cold days he need to put on an extra sweater and head down to drop them off in the closest main box. But for a reason he could not quite perceive, he did everything but that. He even managed to do some household chores he was so diligently putting off as if he had hoped one day when he wakes up they’d all be done in some mysterious way. And while Arthur still found the thought of magic endearing, he didn’t quite fancy mysteries, he just really wished the housekeeping would get done on its own for once.

Not today, he told himself. In his ninety years of life, that was one of the easiest phrases he could tell himself. It appeared simple and short, clean and sweet, even though deep inside it was the root of all things evil and lazy. Might be that’s the plans of villains never go as planned, they always tell themselves not today whenever it comes to executing them. Heroes don’t do that, heroes act. But Arthur had no trouble chewing on that thought, he hadn’t been a hero his whole life so why would he seek that now? Plus heroes were never old either, if they could not save the world at the age of ninety, how could anyone expect Mr. Blinchley to do the things he did in his prime?

Between spinning thoughts during his time at the desk and watching an episode of whatever that was on the TV that he couldn’t recognize, Arthur forgot to have a look at the clock. “Funny thing, time. We stop doing things on its account, but it never stops for us”, Mr. Blinchley thought to himself as he moved to get to his bed. He had what might have been one of the best nights of sleep, even though he might have said that the night before, and the night before that. It was a common occurrence for him to enjoy his sleep.

Yet, as he moved across his apartment, Arthur fell a heavy weight fall on top of him. He extended his arms and leaned toward his favorite chair for support, but failed and made things worse. By pushing the chair down he hurt his left arm when he fell with it on top of the chair. The whole event rumbled the place and the pile of letters fell on top of him. Lying there on the ground, next to his favorite chair and among some of his prized possessions, the letters he wrote to his friends, Mr. Blinchley pondered once again why he didn’t send the letter sooner. Was he too old for such a task? Or did the procrastination delay the thoughts that yet another year of his life had passed? Was it fear kept him back?

In his final moments, Arthur felt maybe it is better that the letters didn’t reach anyone. Maybe it will be a better form of goodbye than any note or words he may have sent them. Sure, his handwriting looked beautiful even though his hand shook when he wrote, but maybe the letters he wrote weren’t worthy of being his last words to his friends. Funny, he thought to himself, we rarely look at it what way and hardly ever accept it, but time does stop on our account.

Lists & Liebsters

A while ago I got tagged for a Liebster award by Story and Somnomancy. The scope of it is you give a shout out to newer bloggers or older bloggers who seem to be flying under the radar, as a way of promoting them and bringing bloggers together. I intended on doing this sooner but I got distracted. Then I was reminded about it when I won the Rafflecopter Giveaway hosted at Story and Somnomancy of the 2015 Young Explorer’s Adventure Guide. It’s an anthology of middle grade science fiction which features a story of her own. “Robot Sister Number Phi” tells the tale of a girl trying to replace her own sister with a robot.

Now, I know some bloggers don’t do these type of awards. We all know the best blog award one can ask for are readers and visitors, and I agree with that, but this one features lists and I have a weakness for lists. So, let’s give this a go!

Rules:

1. Thank the person who nominated you and link their blog.

2. Give your readers 11 random facts about yourself.

3. Answer the 11 questions from the blog who nominated you.

4. Nominate 11 bloggers to receive this award.

5. Come up with 11 questions for your nominees.

The Random Facts

1. No matter the type of coffee I’m drinking, I prefer it with a few drops of milk.

2. Even though I love both reading and writing, sitting down to do either of the two is always hard.

3. I used to love sugar and used it with everything, but recently (read: the past year or so) I’ve been avoiding it. Which doesn’t mean I don’t use it, but for example instead of using 2 teaspoons of sugar with my coffee I now use just a fragment of a teaspoon, if I use any at all.

4. I hate sorting music files. I hate it so much that even though I have my music on the cell and the computer, I tend to just play a radio instead of playing my music (which is clearly outdated and could use some spring cleaning).

5. I’m very easily distracted no matter what I’m doing.

6. I hate crowds in general, which also means that I do not particularly enjoy holidays and family gatherings. Thank goodness there’s food and drinks to get me through those.

7. I enjoy swimming and I like watching basketball, handball, and volleyball; but otherwise I’m not a huge sports fan (read: I don’t mind watching sports, just in most cases I’d rather watch a tv series as things tend to happen there).

8. I try to use clothes as long as possible, mostly because I hate shopping and I hate changing appearances. If a piece of attire is in a good state, still fits on me, and it’s good for the weather outside, why the hell do I need to waste money on buying a new one?

9. I’ve always been rather short and skinny for a guy from my generation, till 2014 when I got somewhat chubby. Which resulted in a huge self-esteem drop because apparently a guy with a tummy and moobs is the perfect start for a joke.

10. I always try to do things on my own, even if it means consulting with Youtube tutorials more than with actual other people.

11. A few years back I had a temporary allergy or skin issue of some kind. Whenever I’d be exposed to the sun too long or I’d do some exercise and I’d start sweating, I’d get a ridiculous red rash over my chest. Never got around to testing what exactly caused it. But eventually it stopped so yeah.

The Answers

1. If you can assign a theme song to your favorite book, what would the theme song be?

My favorite book tends to change just as much as my mood, and currently that would be George Orwell’s 1984. I think Gary Jules’s and Michael Andrews’ cover of Mad World would be a fitting theme for it.

2. What was the most recent book that’s made you grin like a giddy schoolgirl/boy?

That would The Thing on the Doorstep by H. P. Lovecraft, but mostly because I had been hoping to read it for a while and it finally ended up in my hands.

3. What types of books do you normally read?

I’m in love with horror as a genre, but most books I read tend to lean toward fantasy. Anything that goes beyond this ordinary world, but preferably something that avoids common themes (love triangles, the funny friend, the friend love interest, etc.). I like when my books surprise me, when it features something I wouldn’t have expected. There’s little enjoyment about reading the third page if I know what will be there after I’ve read the first page.

4. What author do you get excited over when a new release has been announced?

I’ll be ridiculously excited when I hear George RR Martin’s release of a new book has been announced, but in general I’m mostly excited about new releases by Neil Gaiman.

5. If you hosted a tea party, which book characters would you like to have sitting at your table?

The Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland, it’s a tea party so there’s no one better for it. But also Bilbo Baggins and Gandalf from Lord of the Rings, maybe Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter. I’ll leave it at that because as mentioned previously I’m that big about crowds.

6. Any books that have made you angry lately?

Not that I remember.

7. Do you fully read book reviews before or after you’ve finished the book?

I like skimming reviews beforehand, especially if I’m not sure which book to read next. Sometimes I read whole reviews after I’ve finished a book, but usually not before so I can avoid spoilers.

8. What book(s) are you currently reading?

I’m currently in between books, but I have the following books lined up for next: Premium Harmony by Stephen King, Aesop’s Fables translated by George Tyler Townsend, and Alone (part of the The Girl in the Box series) by Robert J. Crane.

9. What book would you like to see adapted in a different medium (graphic novel, game, movie, anime, TV series, etc.)?

I would love to see various series, such as A Song of Ice and Fire and even Harry Potter, turned into anime.

10. Do you have any other geeky hobbies besides reading?

Would playing video games be considered geeky? I do some amateur writing, that’s quite geeky. I enjoying taking photos but I haven’t had the tools to do that in a while so I’ve grown distant to it. Nowadays I prefer editing images digitally.

11. Zombies or unicorns?

Zombies. I love unicorns, but not as much as I love me a good old dead no-brain human. Plus zombies keep others away so I could put a few in my yard. Can’t do that with unicorns, it would draw too much attention and would bring everyone and their mother to my garden.

The Nominees

So it shouldn’t be a secret but I haven’t been around that much lately so I’m sadly at a lack of folks to nominate here. It was one of the reasons I delayed posting this. Thus if anyone wants to do this, leave a comment and I’ll add a link to your blog up here. Otherwise I’m nominating whoever reads this!

An Adventure in NaNoWriMo

The Book Review Directory

Eric Schlehlein

Write Me a Book, John!

YadaDarcyYada

Daily (w)rite

Poems & Poemes

Storyshucker

SinghCircle

Sidekick Reviews

The Questions

1. How do you pick what book you” be reading next?

2. Do you have any books that have surprised you — whether you were expecting them to be good and they weren’t, or you were expecting them to be bad and they weren’t?

3. Are there any movies or TV series you’ve seen merely because you enjoyed the books the story is based on?

4. Do you have a least favorite or a favorite book-to-other-medium adaptation?

5. You need to pick yourself a partner and a best friend from the pool of fiction characters. Who will they be?

6. What’s the one thing that stands out to you the most when browsing books (covers, titles, description, etc.)?

7. A new system’s being put in place that ensures every person reads at least one book in their lifetime. You get to make the book choice, which one will it be?

8. What’s the last book you read in a single sitting?

9. What do you like doing when you’re not reading?

10. If you could adapt one book into a different medium, what book would that be and in what medium?

11. A Harpy or a Gorgon?

22 Days of NaNoWriMo

What comes after 7 Days of NaNoWriMo and 14 Days of NaNoWriMo? Well of course, 21 days! Except apparently I can’t math and just now I realized 4×7=28 while I’m aiming at 30, so I’ll be doing 8 days for the last two weeks. I do sincerely hope that anyone else attempting Camp NaNoWriMo is making great progress and their story is getting along well!

• Day #15: We’re JUST HALFWAY through the month?!

Usually you’d be the first person to look on the bright say and think “hey you’ve made it through half of it!” but you’re so tired all you can think is “ugh I have to do this for the same amount of time I’ve been doing it till now” and that’s a painful thought.

• Day #16: Remain calm, don’t panic, and keep writing. Okay, maybe panic a little but definitely keep writing.

Pushing yourself to do something every single day, no matter what it is, is going to be troublesome. And the best way to get through any problem is to keep your head cold and keep trying.

• Day #17: The weekend starts today, you can do this if you put your mind to it, right?

Just think of the wonderful feeling once you’re done, that majestic sensation should keep you motivated! There’s still time even if you’ve fallen behind. No plan was ever straightforward, they all have their setbacks so you just have to go beyond yours.

• Day #18: Who am I kidding, if I was using my brain I wasn’t even going to start this in the first place.

At this point you realize you’re fighting against every little atom in your whole body whenever you attempt to sit down and write. Any motivation and hope you gave yourself the previous day have already left the premises before you woke up. It’s like there’s an evil Santa visiting you every night and stealing all your positive thoughts so you’re forced to regain them on your own every morning. Or is this all just a game and you’re always restarted to the first level?

• Day #19: Argh where did my weekend go?!

Does the whole world turn against you whenever you decide to do this? Because it sure feels that way. At this point you’re not even sad, more like frustrated and angry and you want to go set things on fire (but not really).

• Day #20: Another freaking Monday… I’ve had it with this thing.

The more you try to push yourself away from it, the harder it hits you when you finally come back to it. No matter what you’ve started writing, you’ll have to finish it.

• Day #21: Okay, ten more days and you’re done. Kind of… Just keep writing dammit.

If a head could fall from one’s shoulders due to stress and frustration, you’re fairly sure yours would be rolling on the floor right now. But thankfully that could only happen in fiction. Which reminds you… What are you doing and why aren’t you freaking writing?!

• Day #22: Just 1 week left! Okay, almost. But almost is good enough, right? Right?!

You’re nowhere near as smug as Matthew McConaughey, but you feel you should be. Both because of what you’ve written so far and because you’re almost close to the finish line. Give yourself some credit, because others likely won’t do that. The best way to reassure yourself you can make it through this month is if you look back at what you’ve managed to do so far.

The Noble Order of Time

                  Art by VirginIron on DeviantArt

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At a round table sit three highly skilled knights,

Their weapons, although different, are often intertwined.

The first knight carries a heavy broad axe,

With a slow swing but extraordinarily strong.

The second knight carries a longsword,

He has a lighter swing but his reach is quite long.

The third knight carries a fencing sword,

Which has a pointy sharp end that can do no wrong.

Sometimes their hits are as high as they can go,

Other times they deal the lowest possible blow.

When the weapons clash with each other,

You can see parries, or blocks if you’d rather.

Yet no matter the striking they do among themselves,

The mighty knights are just people’s hard-working elves.

Night and day we make them fight as slaves,

As they count the time to our inescapable graves.

It’s not all that dark, black and sad, though,

Their battle brings as much lightness as there is in snow.

For when their battle keeps going on all the time,

We try to do some goodness for all the past crime.

Yet in a peculiar way the biggest crime in all of this,

Is by watching their battle, everything else we miss.

14 Days of NaNoWriMo

About a week ago I did a 7 Days of NaNoWriMo post, covering the beginnings of an attempt at Camp NaNoWriMo. The extraordinary National Novel Writing Month takes place in November, but the Camp is a smaller sibling project that takes place during April and it gives authors more freedom in comparison to the first. Yet, despite providing you with choices, some flexibility in what you write, how you write, and at what pace, do not delude yourself that it’s any less of a difficult or demanding task.

Writing in its self, no matter the form and purpose it takes is  an excruciating and agonizing assignment lead by an exhausting process of brainstorming, planning, and organizing plots which you’ll then spend day and night splattering with ink over paper, only to wake up in your sleep and burn out all the nonsense you realize you’ve written. But pain, misery, agony, and all the tragedy in life produce emotions, they stir our imagination and once those vanish, you’ll have in your hands the impeccable fruits of hard labor. Whether a short story, a group of poems, or the start of a novella, you’ll have at least the foundation for a written piece of work that speaks this is brilliant and must have taken effort or talent. Or maybe that’s just something I tell myself to help me sleep at night?

Either way, grab a pair of goggles as we’re flying off with a steampunk hot air balloon to revisit day 8-14 of Camp NaNoWriMo.

• Day #8: Ugh, my Wednesday is a Monday?!

The strong victory feelings you had the day before seem faint and distant, as if they were a million light years ago. Any remote sense of accomplishment evaporated with the realization that another heavy seven days are ahead of you. Begrudgingly you push everything and everyone aside and attempt to turn the table and be productive.

• Day #9: What do you mean it’s my birthday tomorrow and this is the Easter weekend?!

Not only are you behind with your word count, but with this coming avalanche of events in the next couple of days you’re well aware you’ll be buried under deep snow and your word count will remain as frozen as the Antarctica. Will you ever recover? Will you be able to dig your way up to see the sun again? Are you capable of rising from the ashes like a Phoenix? No one knows, especially not yourself, but this seems like the perfect time to start panicking.

• Day #10: Time to pretend I’m interested in festivities and non-writing things.

Stuff such as socializing, small talk, long conversations with people you barely know are so low on the list of things you wish you were doing at this very moment, one is quite certain that even breaking things, running around naked on the streets, and murdering anyone nearby, rank higher. Yet when there are celebrations there’s usually fancy delicious food, various selections of drinks, and hopefully a cake big enough for one to drown in it. You can never say no to all wonders that feed your soul and you’re certainly not saying no to cake. In some ways this helps you survive and put on a manic laughing face as you’re internally screaming to sit down and write.

• Day #11: Wishing it was a lazy Saturday and that you had a few less drinks the previous day.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, wash down your thoughts in alcohol and hope they never reappear again. But those little demons turn out quite the swimmers, and while you’re trying to get your head straight they decide to punch you like a boxing bag, repeatedly. You’re so swamped you’re contemplating the idea of saying screw it and taking a nap. Resistance is usually futile, but you try your best not to give in on the temptation.

• Day #12: Stop the holidays, stop the celebrations, for goodness sake stop the people!!

You feel holidays is the name given to some supernatural beings sent on planet Earth to beat you up, devour all your energy, creativity, and leave you exhausted, bloated, unable to do anything remotely productive. Doesn’t look like you’ll be doing any writing today.

• Day #13: Please shoot me and make sure you don’t miss.

The holidays keep going, which can’t really be said about your word count. More food, drinks, too many people and conversations for your taste, no sign of that glorious cake you recently had, and for all you know your brain has left the station. It may not have reached its new destination but it has definitely started the journey of leaving your head.

• Day #14: Remind me why I do this to myself every year?

The festivities might finally be over, but they’ve left you feeling like you spent the last few days running marathons, yet it doesn’t appear that you’ve won any of them as you see no trophies nearby. All you see is the obvious lack of writing, a plethora of plot points you have yet to plan out and write, while your mind says go to bed and don’t wake up till the end of April. Apparently, the weather finally left its Winter mood and embraced the Spring temperatures, but you’ve been so busy typing you haven’t even had the time to look outside.

You tell yourself to keep going, you’re already halfway there — you can definitely survive another two weeks of this, right? Somehow you’re not really sure, but you’re dead set on trying and you go grab another cup of coffee.

7 Days of NaNoWriMo

In case anyone hasn’t noticed, lately I’ve been slacking somewhat (for example I didn’t get to do a Short Story this past Sunday). However, as far as excuses go I have the second best one — I’m attempting to do Camp NaNoWriMo. Which is the evil twice-removed cousin of NaNoWriMo, which would then be the stepmom or mother of evil and the very best possible excuse for slacking. If you’ve never tried either of the two, the best way for me to describe them to you is as monthly tortures composed of coffee, stress, self-loathing, coffee, random tantrums, mood swings, coffee, keyboard bashing, self-bribing with cake, and did I mention coffee? But if you do get through all of that, you’ll probably have the joy of owning a written piece of a decent length and very crappy quality. That’s why usually we take a short break to replenish our batteries, after which we continue the torture but now by editing instead of writing.

If you’re extremely fortunate you’ll have an amazing product to be proud of that you can show off to others who’ll look at you with awe. If you’re less fortunate you’ll find comfort in the fact that you’ve done the impossible — you’ve produced a novel in a month’s time. Sure, it may be something that you’ll hide in the most secluded corner of your computer forevermore because it doesn’t deserve to see the light of day ever again, but you’ve had fun and experience and those always come in handy. I’m getting off-topic though, the idea of this post is to illustrate how usually the first week (which I’ve now survived, woo!) tends to go.

• Day #1: Like stealing candy from a baby.

It starts as in the fables, this new land you’re discovering is gorgeous in every way and as peaceful as it can be. There is no sign of trouble anywhere and it’s a beautiful day so you even do your writing with as much leisure as possible. You’ve been preparing mentally for this for a while now and you’re quite sure in your capabilities and the plot you’re going for.

• Day #2: Everything is great and whimsical.

Another day of productive work, you haven’t come across any issues yet and you feel this is your year. This is the year when you out-write all your friends and produce the best story humanity has ever seen.

• Day #3: A few bumps on the road can’t stop me.

It can’t all be that pretty, you must have some rough patches and at least they make for a good story. You reassure yourself you can make it through this and a small drawback isn’t stopping you.

• Day #4: When I set my mind to it, I’m unstoppable.

You’re ready to move beyond yesterday’s trouble, you sit yourself down with a bucket of coffee by your side and you do some quality catching up. Heck, you even get ahead so you have less to write tomorrow!

• Day #5: Okay, maybe I lied a bit yesterday.

You already start feeling the weight on your shoulders fingers. It’s day 5 and you want to keep going strong but you desperately need a break so you attempt writing what you can without pushing your limits. You’ve earned some comfort and you can always catch up the next day, right?

• Day #6: Why is this happening to me.

I’ll catch up tomorrow is the most basic mistake, yet somehow you manage to throw yourself under that same bus every year. You even fall for that multiple times in the same month. You’re tired, you have other things to do, your mind is blocked, you feel like the whole world is on fire, and you start regretting you decided to do this.

• Day #7: How am I doing this, and can I please keep doing it for another 3 weeks?

You have no idea how you managed it or where you found the will from, but you sit down and catch up for the whole week. Was it the fact that you hate losing this early? Was it because you’re competitive and you wanted to show your friends you’re not a loser? Or was it simply because you promised yourself a whole big pile of awesome pizza which you’ll eat all by yourself? Doesn’t matter, so as long as the job gets done.

I guess it also doesn’t matter that by the end of the first week you’ll already be suffering from typing disease, where you’re prone to do some ‘typing‘ no matter where you are or what you’re doing.

101

The title’s 101 not because I have that many dalmatians at home, but because as of this moment that’s the number of posts on this blog. Which isn’t showing off — I started the blog in May 2012 so really it’s quite the opposite as I know a fair share of you who cover 100 posts in a week or two. I’ve been on and off in the past, unable to get myself to stick to posting. Back then it had a different purpose, different content, and a different theme. But I believe now I have a more clear direction and a better management of my time for it, so it should hopefully keep growing instead of stalling. In just 2 months this year I’ve achieved just as much as I did during 2014 and 2013, and I’m one third of the way to beating my stats for 2012. Which is not to say the path it was headed toward previously is wrong, it was simply aimed at a different target. Or, to use another Hemingway quote…

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” ~ Ernest Hemingway

Just because the start might not have been that brilliant, it doesn’t mean I get to just ignore it. It still included writing and thoughts that came from me, it included pieces of myself. But it’s important to remember and honor the past, just as much as we aspire and plan for the future. Without the past we wouldn’t be where we are and there would be no future to look forward to — we’d still be at square zero.

So, a note for myself, and for everyone else I guess, keep bleeding, keep writing, keep sharing your hurt with the world. If we can all relate and help each other get through the pain, we’ll come out stronger in the end. Here’s to another 100 posts — cheers!

Top Ten Thursday: Overused Plots

Have you ever read a story or watched a movie/show and thought the plot seemed familiar in some way? It should be a common occurrence, since most ideas nowadays are just a spin on something that has already been done. But sometimes that plot has been redone so many times that it’s just lazy writing or catering for the masses at this point. I’m likely guilty of that as well, after all most of our ideas are born from the work of other people, but we could definitely do a better job when it comes to originality. Although, quite a few authors have managed to work cliches into their work without an issue. Can you think of a few overused plots on top of your head? Here are my top ten!

10. Switching Twins

It may not be as common as I believe it to be, but whenever I’m reading/watching twins my gut tells me they’ll be changing places. Not only that, but during crucial scenes where the identity is important, they’re bound to have switched places. Whether they end up kissing or killing them, they do that on the wrong twin. Insert collective gasping here because no one saw that coming.

9. The Prophecy

A not-so-vague prophecy which provides a detailed summary of all the events about to go down in the near feature, automatically spoiling the reader/watcher of what’s coming. It takes away from the incentive to read the book/watch the movie, though you may still wonder if it’ll turn out correct and continue reading/watching. But if you do so, and it turns out correct, there’s also a slight feeling of disappointment, unless the story was overall appealing, as to why you went through the whole thing when you could have just read/watched the prophecy.

8. The Wild One Tamed

People change, we all grow and evolve over time. But it’s shocking how many fiction characters change completely overnight or just over a short period of time. The dumb jock becomes the smart savior of the world, the flirtatious person turns into a saint, the naive virgin is now a bad-ass, and the reader/watcher is still who they are except they’re likely cringing at this part.

7. The Orphan

This goes especially for prologues, if there’s a story about a baby being abandoned you know right then and there that is going to grow up into one special human being. This is so apparent that if after said prologue it doesn’t turn out that way I’d blackout for a few days due to the massive shock. In my humble opinion this is even worse than the prophecy plot, as there you’re deliberately giving away your story while here you’re unintentionally spoiling it from the very beginning. Not at all entertaining if I’ve read it before already and if I know what’s coming, that takes away both the surprise and the freshness from the story.

6. Fake Death

The character dies and then surprise, surprise, they actually don’t. The ground in fiction isn’t very receptive of bodies, apparently. I tend to blame this one on Tolkien for bringing back Gandalf and even stronger than before, but there are older stories with that plot. It seems death is very rarely final or crippling, it’s more often reviving the protagonist or portrayed as rebirth of the character. Which isn’t bad, but haven’t we had enough of that already?

5. Ugly Duckling

This doesn’t refer solely to the romantic part of stories, but it’s definitely more prominent there. The character who was appalling and/or least desirable to everyone at the beginning of the story, eventually becomes the most appealing one. While its’s a great story on its own, this is used so frequently now I believe at least every third movie includes that plot. They don’t have to be appealing to everyone, no one is loved by all, but they don’t have to be so hated in the first place as well.

4. Funny Sidekick

Since the protagonist is so busy trying to impress everyone with their skill, they’ve lost all sense of humor and it’s up the sidekick to bring the jokes to the table. Not to mention the sidekick is literally useless and serves no other purpose but to provide sarcastic and witty remarks. Humor’s great, sarcasm’s even better, but the source needs to be any character as opposed to a single character with no other purpose.

3. A One-man Job

This has quite a few versions, from not accepting anyone’s help because they feel it’s their mission, or a specific character has to return to and old position because everyone feels only they can do the job. Heck, whole cities or nations would depend on a single person — are thousands of people so incompetent opposed to that single person? Were the other characters there just to applaud whenever the protagonist does something cool? Or were they meant to look dumb so the protagonist can look smart? Might as well use a laugh-track instead of supporting and minor characters if that’s the case.

2. Pure-Evil Enemy

Who is the protagonist and why are they so bent over to spread the seeds of chaos? We’re human being,s we all have a story and we all have our reasons for doing what we do, whether it’s good or bad (sometimes we just don’t realize when something is bad). The protagonist needs that to, they can’t just be born evil. No one’s born with the will to destroy the world, though they can get that will due to events in their life.

1. Love Triangle

Yep, that takes the first spot. Is this fun for anyone at this point? You have whole franchises where the world depends on the work of a few people, yet the focus goes to the girl’s inability to choose between her two suitors. They’re doing everything (read: fictitious exaggerations of love) to win her over but it’s too hard for her to pick one because they’re both so ridiculously good looking, highly intelligent, extremely courageous and kind and… Yeah, I need to rest my eyes now because they’ve been rolling for a while. It’s too much and it’s been done too many times, simple as that.

Short Story Sunday: Cinema Night

Being part of winter the months of January and February are usually filled with cold, rainy, and windy days. Thus one usually finds it enjoyable to spend those days at home with a cup of warm coffee. Or, since it is also the awards season for motion pictures, one might also enjoy going to the cinema to catch up with award nominees. My roommate and I are avid movie fans so that’s what we used to. It all stopped one night four years ago.

The night I have in mind we were going to see a thriller romance, which we would usually avoid but it featured Angelina Jolie and Johnny Depp so we thought to ourselves how bad can it really be? Awfully bad, apparently. I guess it didn’t help that I had pulled two shifts at a fast food restaurant before going to the midnight screening of the movie. Somewhere along the way I must have fallen asleep. Which is quite normal with me being tired and the movie not entertaining enough to keep me awake. What isn’t normal is waking up all sweaty and frightened as if I’ve had a nightmare but not remembering any details. The first thing I realized is that I was at the cinema. The next thing I did was look left to where my roommate was sitting but he wasn’t there, his seat was empty. In fact, after looking around the room I noticed all seats were empty. The cinema was empty, there was no one there but myself.

I was more confused than frightened at this point but I could sense a fear setting in. I saw the movie was over, though a black screen was clearly still projecting, as if the credits were to run but there was no change. If the movie ended, why wouldn’t my friend wake up? Why wouldn’t I wake up from noise of everyone else leaving? Aren’t there staff members who check the rooms after each screening ends? Too many questions and no answers. As I moved toward the exit of the cinema I pulled out my cell phone with the idea to call my roommate, but it had likely ran out of battery because I couldn’t turn it on. No biggie, I told myself, until I reached the cinema’s front door and realized it’s locked. I tried pushing, pulling, even kicking it but it wouldn’t budge. While with each push and pull and kick I could fear my heart racing faster and faster. How did this happen? Am I spending the night at this place?

I was set on finding a phone, they had to have one somewhere. Making my way through the halls though, I started pondering if just sleeping off the night isn’t a smarter move. I could hear noise. The noise quickly turns into more clear sounds. And the sounds soon turn into voices. What if I’m not alone here? Is that a good or a bad thing? My brain was tired, my body was exhausted, I needed sleep and not creepy thoughts, so I took a deep breath and moved toward the source of the voices. Getting closer to them, I realized they’re not actual human voices. It sounded like they were coming from a TV – and rightfully so, there was a movie playing. From fear to disappointment, I could not catch a break. I had almost decided to give up and find a comfortable place for spending the night, when I noticed a black shadow in the front rows. It looked like a small dark figure moving quickly between the seats, making its way toward the back exit of the room. In the dark I could not see who or what it was, I just stood there observing its movement. As the light of the movie changed, from dark to light, I caught a glimpse of it before it disappeared through the exit. An extremely thin, crooked figure. It wasn’t small as I thought, it looked tiny because most of its body was slithering on the floor.

I was seeing everything from a different point of view now – there was no sign of my friend, my cell phone wasn’t working, I was in an empty, locked up cinema, and there was something else with me there. Something I couldn’t even define and the bare thought of it send shivers down my spine. I was frozen, blocked, unable to move or maybe I just didn’t know where to go but I knew I was just standing there. I tried to shake off the negativity from my mind and left the room. I decided I’ll lock myself up in the owner’s office so I made my way down the hall. I didn’t make it even ten feet when I saw the thing again. It was coming from the restricted areas, it had likely visited the offices – but how did it get there so quickly? Or were there more than one? I noticed that I can hear the thing making a snake-like hissing, but stronger, sharper, and it sounded a bit deeper. It’s probable that in the previous room the sound from the movie was preventing me from hearing any of this, but now the hall was mostly quiet and I could hear it. I could hear it clearer and clearer. It was coming this way.

At this point I was completely worn out. My body and my mind kept reminding me about the lack of sleep, lack of food, lack of water, and pointing to the excess stress, dismay, and fear. I did not have the energy or the will to pretend that I’m strong or that I’m smart or to make strategic moves. I decided to make a run for it. The bathroom was close, I could lock myself up in there and hope I make it to the morning. Due to being exhausted my running wasn’t very fast, and even though I’m sure my feet were stumping on the ground and my heart was thumping, all I could hear was the noise the slithering was making. I was so focused on reaching the bathroom that I didn’t think about other possibilities – just as I was about to enter the bathroom I noticed there’s a short corridor on the right that has stairs which lead to the roof. I pushed the bathroom door as hard as I can, hoping it distracts the thing, and made a run for the roof.

The idea of getting away from that thing and that place gave me hope and strength, I could feel myself rushing at a faster pace than before. In fact I was moving so fast that I completely forgot to lock the door behind me. I thought to myself if there are stairs to the roof then there must be fire-escape stairs that lead down from the building. And there were, I could see them as soon as I came out on the roof and without even stopping to take a breath I kept running. I’m not sure if due to my state or my rush, as I was going down the last stairs I slipped and couldn’t hold onto them. Within a second I found myself on the ground, lying on the back and my whole body aching while all I could do is let out a scream of pain.

I keep going back to this moment, I’m not sure if it was a response to my scream or a victorious roar of its own, but at that exact moment the thing peeked from the room and let out a vicious hissing sound that resonated across the whole street. Despite all the pain and exhaustion, I pushed myself up on my feet and started running. I never glanced back, not even once. I just kept running. I do not remember how but apparently I almost made it to the hospital, I had collapsed nearby and someone picked me up and took me inside. I awoke the next day, but the joy of surviving last night’s happenings quickly faded away. While I made it out alive, I  was informed my roommate didn’t, or at least they couldn’t find him. In fact, they couldn’t find any of the people who were in that cinema last night, I was the only person who made it.

It’s been 4 years and the police never really got any leads on the case. But then again, I never told them what truly happened to me that night.