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geekhack Community => Off Topic => Topic started by: hwood34 on Sun, 05 October 2014, 23:30:27

Title: Writing Thread
Post by: hwood34 on Sun, 05 October 2014, 23:30:27
I thought it would be nice to have a thread where people could showcase their writing skills, whether that be in the form of a short story, essay, or poem. Here's a link to the Natonal Novel Writing Month for anyone interested in participating: http://nanowrimo.org . The idea is to create a novel in just one month, get critiqued by other writers, and get to meet with other writers.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: paicrai on Mon, 06 October 2014, 07:00:47
420
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: hwood34 on Mon, 06 October 2014, 07:31:32
Quote from: paicrai on Mon, 06 October 2014, 07:00:47
420
xxXX420blazeitXXXxx
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: Computer-Lab in Basement on Mon, 06 October 2014, 07:33:29
I wrote a poem in 5th grade that won an award.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: hwood34 on Mon, 06 October 2014, 08:13:07
Quote from: Computer-Lab in Basement on Mon, 06 October 2014, 07:33:29
I wrote a poem in 5th grade that won an award.
jeez, lemme see if I can dig out some of my elementary school haikus :p
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: Computer-Lab in Basement on Mon, 06 October 2014, 08:20:02
Monday morning haiku:

**** no **** no ****
**** no **** no **** no ****
**** no **** no ****

Also applies well to situations involving large spiders.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: paicrai on Mon, 06 October 2014, 08:35:17

Quote from: hwood34 on Mon, 06 October 2014, 07:31:32
Quote from: paicrai on Mon, 06 October 2014, 07:00:47
420
xxXX420blazeitXXXxx
literature at its finest
rollin paper
book paper that is
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Mon, 06 October 2014, 13:29:28
Tp4 wakes up..

Tp4 puts on cloths..

Tp4 goes jogging..

Tp4 showers..

Tp4 turns on the computer..

Tp4 waits for his slow-ass 160g x25m g2 to boot..

Tp4 launches firefox..

Tp4 checks for new bluray torrent releases..

Tp4 checks GH..

Tp4 writes stuff on GH..

Tp4 thinks florid writing can go -suck it- !!

Tp4 applies emoticon..

(http://s1.postimage.org/15usiymys/128.gif)
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: RED-404 on Mon, 06 October 2014, 13:40:40
Life is ⌨, ⌨ is life. ☮
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: SpAmRaY on Mon, 06 October 2014, 13:47:56
I once had a literary professor in college tell me I should be a writer. I hate writing. The End.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: exitfire401 on Mon, 06 October 2014, 13:51:37
Quote from: SpAmRaY on Mon, 06 October 2014, 13:47:56
I once had a literary professor in college tell me I should be a writer. I hate writing. The End.

Happens to me quite often as well...I would never do it because I hate the craft.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Mon, 06 October 2014, 13:52:34
Quote from: SpAmRaY on Mon, 06 October 2014, 13:47:56
I once had a literary professor in college tell me I should be a writer. I hate writing. The End.

You can't say that and not post up some bling writen'
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: ConscienceDrop on Mon, 06 October 2014, 14:09:35
I like the idea of this thread a lot. Unfortunately I don't have anything to contribute at the moment, but maybe some time soon. I will keep an eye on this thread though.

People should probably note how open to criticism they are as well, or if they wish to just showcase for people to enjoy and would rather receive no criticism.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: terrpn on Mon, 06 October 2014, 14:29:24
Quote from: tp4tissue on Mon, 06 October 2014, 13:29:28
Tp4 wakes up..

Tp4 puts on cloths..

Tp4 goes jogging..

Tp4 showers..

Tp4 turns on the computer..

Tp4 waits for his slow-ass 160g x25m g2 to boot..

Tp4 launches firefox..

Tp4 checks for new bluray torrent releases..

Tp4 checks GH..

Tp4 writes stuff on GH..

Tp4 thinks florid writing can go -suck it- !!

Tp4 applies emoticon..

Show Image
(http://s1.postimage.org/15usiymys/128.gif)


already a NY Times................bestseller
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Mon, 06 October 2014, 14:44:09
Quote from: terrpn on Mon, 06 October 2014, 14:29:24
Quote from: tp4tissue on Mon, 06 October 2014, 13:29:28
Tp4 wakes up..

Tp4 puts on cloths..

Tp4 goes jogging..

Tp4 showers..

Tp4 turns on the computer..

Tp4 waits for his slow-ass 160g x25m g2 to boot..

Tp4 launches firefox..

Tp4 checks for new bluray torrent releases..

Tp4 checks GH..

Tp4 writes stuff on GH..

Tp4 thinks florid writing can go -suck it- !!

Tp4 applies emoticon..

Show Image
(http://s1.postimage.org/15usiymys/128.gif)


already a NY Times................bestseller

You know.. I've always felt that they've taught us how to write MORE without really saying anything at all ..

When in reality, and inline with the Practical Purpose of Language we should probably write LESS,  as little as possible to get our point across..
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: RED-404 on Mon, 06 October 2014, 15:18:08
Quote from: tp4tissue on Mon, 06 October 2014, 13:29:28
Tp4 wakes up..

Tp4 puts on cloths..

Tp4 goes jogging..

Tp4 showers..

Tp4 turns on the computer..

Tp4 waits for his slow-ass 160g x25m g2 to boot..

Tp4 launches firefox..

Tp4 checks for new bluray torrent releases..

Tp4 checks GH..

Tp4 writes stuff on GH..

Tp4 thinks florid writing can go -suck it- !!

Tp4 applies emoticon..

Show Image
(http://s1.postimage.org/15usiymys/128.gif)


It seems to have lost something in translation. Heres the original.
(http://red.dazoe.net/stuff/2014-10-06_15-08-35.png)
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: noisyturtle on Mon, 06 October 2014, 15:29:50
I have some stuff that has won awards and been published on Gamasutra. Most of it is dry, technical game design theory stuff though.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: hwood34 on Mon, 06 October 2014, 17:38:17
Quote from: ConscienceDrop on Mon, 06 October 2014, 14:09:35
I like the idea of this thread a lot. Unfortunately I don't have anything to contribute at the moment, but maybe some time soon. I will keep an eye on this thread though.

People should probably note how open to criticism they are as well, or if they wish to just showcase for people to enjoy and would rather receive no criticism.
Well if we could get some actual submissions that would be great :p

Quote from: noisyturtle on Mon, 06 October 2014, 15:29:50
I have some stuff that has won awards and been published on Gamasutra. Most of it is dry, technical game design theory stuff though.
pooost eeet
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Mon, 06 October 2014, 20:06:28
Florid writing is fundamentally flawed because its prose hinges on the hijacking of emotional responses. There is rarely a sentence that couldn't be written more simply; The embellishment only serves to appease our senses rather than provide the terse channel necessary for communication.

I could've wrote ^^^  that as..   

-
**** writing, you emo wimp. space-saved, you know what I's sayin', Done ! Peace nigga!...

-
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: noisyturtle on Mon, 06 October 2014, 20:26:09
http://www.gamecareerguide.com/features/1244/game_narrative_review__silent_.php (http://www.gamecareerguide.com/features/1244/game_narrative_review__silent_.php)
They got my name and school wrong here, but whatever. It's on the GDC site with the correct heading.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Tue, 07 October 2014, 01:33:41
Here's another reason why submissions may be scant...

Let's compare the writing thread to the faces of GH thread for example.. 

Let's say you're ugly...  well there's nothing you can do about it, so it's a short throw for people to rationalize and think -I am what I am-.. -I am not ashamed-...


But Writing is different... because it's something you can practice and be good at.. so if you're bad at writing, you can't divert responsibility for the calamity...

THUS.. one very much could be ashamed of their bad writing....


This shame factor would inhibit many people from coming forth with their writing samples, which I'm sure are all quite adequate..

(http://emoticoner.com/files/emoticons/onion-head/oh-onion-head-emoticon.gif?1292862514)


I think we should encourage people to write..

Let's do this...  someone come up with a writing prompt, (NOT YOU PAICRAI, Sry, I already know what you're gonna say, and it's probably R-rated)

and everyone write something  short... 500 words based on the writing prompt..


YES GH-homework.. (http://emoticoner.com/files/emoticons/onion-head/cheer2-onion-head-emoticon.gif?1292862495)
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: paicrai on Tue, 07 October 2014, 04:51:20
a haiku:
change is a coming
the way of the old is dying soon now
punch a fat ***** hoe
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: hwood34 on Tue, 07 October 2014, 06:38:19
Quote from: noisyturtle on Mon, 06 October 2014, 20:26:09
http://www.gamecareerguide.com/features/1244/game_narrative_review__silent_.php (http://www.gamecareerguide.com/features/1244/game_narrative_review__silent_.php)
They got my name and school wrong here, but whatever. It's on the GDC site with the correct heading.
wow, nice! :D
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Tue, 07 October 2014, 11:55:56
Quote from: paicrai on Tue, 07 October 2014, 04:51:20
a haiku:
change is a coming
the way of the old is dying soon now
punch a fat ***** hoe

I quite liked that Haiku Paicrai.. It contains a great deal of information..

so... from it, I gather..


-change is a coming-

Perhaps you're dissatisfied with yourself or the situation you're in...

-the way of the old is dying soon now-

You feel suffocated by those who have authority over you (teacher/older sibling/guardian/parent)..

-punch a fat ***** hoe-

You've been unsuccessful with females, and so you've singled out their weakest form (fat ***** hoz) and decided to h8 on them as an outlet...



This is not a constructive mental framework paicrai... it's certainly not uncommon for younger guys your age, but it'd help more to think positive instead of raging.. (http://emoticoner.com/files/emoticons/onion-head/pretty-onion-head-emoticon.gif?1292862516)



In contrast:

Accept the flow today --

Learn from the mistake of those old

Curvy wins versus stick
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: SpAmRaY on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:01:55
storybundle has a sale currently on writing tools if anyone is interested
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: Signature on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:03:19
Only got dem poems in swedish
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:05:13
Quote from: SpAmRaY on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:01:55
storybundle has a sale currently on writing tools if anyone is interested

is this like humble indie bundle.. but for books... where theres like 2 good one, and the rest are just meh... like boxes of chocolates ?
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: CPTBadAss on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:07:53
I wrote a short story last year for a writing class I was taking. Very slowly working on a fiction piece as well but that's not ready to be shared yet. If I remember I can post the short story. It's ok but I was happy with it because it was a step forward in my personal writing; it's something other than reviews and blogs.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:08:49
Quote from: CPTBadAss on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:07:53
I wrote a short story last year for a writing class I was taking. Very slowly working on a fiction piece as well but that's not ready to be shared yet. If I remember I can post the short story. It's ok but I was happy with it because it was a step forward in my personal writing; it's something other than reviews and blogs.

u have a blog? link the blog...
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: CPTBadAss on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:09:31
It is linked, look at the little globe under my avatar. Or click around my signature.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: SpAmRaY on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:18:32
Quote from: tp4tissue on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:05:13
Quote from: SpAmRaY on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:01:55
storybundle has a sale currently on writing tools if anyone is interested

is this like humble indie bundle.. but for books... where theres like 2 good one, and the rest are just meh... like boxes of chocolates ?

yes
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: CPTBadAss on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:22:47
I think I'm going to do National Novel Writing Month (http://nanowrimo.org/) this year. It's been something I've been thinking about doing for a while. Maybe we can link that into this thread?
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:39:31
I feel that written fiction is being supplanted by the CGI-spark of late 21st..

My imagination can not readily produce the same mental response as the immense visual stimuli generated by super-computing..


So if you are a kid growing up today,  there's no real reason to read fiction, when movies and tv-shows provide the same plots with significantly better visual presentation.


I've always felt that whole, -Use your imagination- speech was only with respect to LEARNING to read / write.

However, as far as taking information inwards..  it doesn't make sense for the modern-someone to read the book vs watch the movie..


Are there merits to the textual format, sure, will they continue to exist as the framework and skeleton TO the ultimate Visual Presentation (Movies, TVshow), also yes..


but with respect to the audience..  the Book is quite dull, and significantly more time consuming..




Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: paicrai on Tue, 07 October 2014, 12:59:07

Quote from: tp4tissue on Tue, 07 October 2014, 11:55:56
Quote from: paicrai on Tue, 07 October 2014, 04:51:20
a haiku:
change is a coming
the way of the old is dying soon now
punch a fat ***** hoe

I quite liked that Haiku Paicrai.. It contains a great deal of information..

so... from it, I gather..


-change is a coming-

Perhaps you're dissatisfied with yourself or the situation you're in...

-the way of the old is dying soon now-

You feel suffocated by those who have authority over you (teacher/older sibling/guardian/parent)..

-punch a fat ***** hoe-

You've been unsuccessful with females, and so you've singled out their weakest form (fat ***** hoz) and decided to h8 on them as an outlet...



This is not a constructive mental framework paicrai... it's certainly not uncommon for younger guys your age, but it'd help more to think positive instead of raging..
Show Image
(http://emoticoner.com/files/emoticons/onion-head/pretty-onion-head-emoticon.gif?1292862516)




In contrast:

Accept the flow today --

Learn from the mistake of those old

Curvy wins versus stick
or me and the1onewolf were having a laugh in chat and came up with that
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: baldgye on Tue, 07 October 2014, 13:00:27
I just typed up this 1500 word Metal Gear Solid forum post about how the story of MGS dsnt actually matter to anyone, including Kojima (http://w11.zetaboards.com/The_Cardboard_Box/topic/10613052/1/)
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Tue, 07 October 2014, 14:29:45
Quote from: baldgye on Tue, 07 October 2014, 13:00:27
I just typed up this 1500 word Metal Gear Solid forum post about how the story of MGS dsnt actually matter to anyone, including Kojima (http://w11.zetaboards.com/The_Cardboard_Box/topic/10613052/1/)

read the whole thing..

I never played through MGS, because I didn't like the control scheme..  Now I know I don't need to play it..

Thanks.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: noisyturtle on Tue, 07 October 2014, 19:15:39
Here's something I wrote for the KBK giveaway a while back. I misinterpreted the rules and wound up writing an entire short story.


The vibrations of the railway paired disturbingly well with the warm steady breath of the overweight gentleman that was wheezing directly into James Mills face. His eyelids grew heavy as the train carried him along the poorly lit underground tube and his thoughts turned to the vitamin infused bird-meal that awaited back at his residence. James was of the merchant class, a self-employed clothing vendor providing uniforms and work outfits for the lower class, and both worked and lived in his shop in the Orange District, the section of Phoenix city where all shops and storefronts were located. James was returning home from meeting with a client who had recently placed a large order of servant outfits to replace the ones that were recently put into quarantine after half his clients staff caught the shivers and mutilated the gardener and neighbors. It seemed as if cases of shivers were becoming more and more common these past few months, but Governor Rose had insisted nothing out of the ordinary was happening, and that these were isolated incidents that have been thoroughly studied and taken care of. James never thought much of Phoenix City’s troubles and much preferred to let the government take care of things as long as they let him alone. In fact, all these recent shiver cases were actually a great boon for his business as those from the lower class seemed to be affected more, and that simply meant another work order placed for a lost uniform. As the train rumbled between districts James glanced lazily out of the window and through the thick glass tube to the uninhabitable Windshere beyond the city’s domes. It was beautiful in a way, how barren and blasted the landscape was in the dim lime colored pillars of light that shined through the polluted skies. Every now and then the reflection and angle of the light would catch a jagged unearthed bit of balem, infusing the violet crystal with a brilliant glow and giving the Windshere an impression of being decorated with great glittering jewels that shined and pulsated as far as the eye could see. If James had not seen the view a thousand times before he may have been moved, but instead he let out an inexcitable grunt as he sunk back into his seat and closed his eyes once more.
   
‘Now arriving, Orange District. Please depart in an orderly manner. Trains leaving for Gemini Sector will be departing on platform 2. Have a safe night.’ James turned on his side not wanting to get off of the train, but he knew the guards would soon sweep the cars and he would be fined for not adhering to the rules. “Five more minutes mom.” James murmured with a slightly bemused look on his face. As he exited the train he glanced over the line of people awaiting the Gemini train. Tired and dirty in their work clothes with backs hunched, they looked like they could be refugees on their way to some better far off land. The truth was the people who lived in the Gemini Sector represented the poorest and most repressed of Phoenix Cities populous. Not allowed to own businesses nor manage them, they did all the jobs around the city that no one else wanted to do and could be readily identified by their brightly colored jumpsuits, work outfits that James and his shop provided to the upper class to distribute amongst their employees. James’ father had been placed in the Gemini sector upon his arrival in Phoenix City and had always tried to impart upon James to treat them the same as he himself would wish to be treated, but in reality James never interacted much with them so he really didn’t get many chances to implement his father’s advice. Truth be told, James didn’t really interact much with anyone, as most of his business could be taken care of by computer. Occasionally he would meet with a new client placing large orders, but in these situations James often found himself trying to stifle his apathy and general disinterest with offbeat laughter and awkward smiles that really seemed to upset his clients more than anything else. James shuffled along the streets trying to avoid eye contact with passersby as the simulated daylight beamed down on him casting a long shadow on the walkway. The technicians would be switching off the daylight soon and the gentle glow of the street lamps and walkway would guide him the rest of the way home. Phoenix City couldn’t afford the luxury of mimicking time of day as the domes were originally built as purely temporary and functional, and there were certainly no intentions of having people living in them for more than a couple decades. After the Blight, many sacrifices had to be made and decisions were hastily ordered out as the Earth withered around its denizens. Having been born and raised inside the domes, James had no concept of what life was like before the Earth died and only knew what his father described to him, so to him they were simply stories. In fact, James rather liked living in the domes and the concept of having an entire world around him made him feel uneasy and exposed. He shivered at the thought of having an endless horizon spreading before him with boundless space between his head and the clouds above. As James’ thoughts preoccupied him, the daylight was turned off and with an electric buzz the walkways guide lights lit up. This was his favorite time of the day as the streets were sparsely populated and the dark gently hugged him from all sides as if he were floating through twilight in a bubble. As James rounded the corner on which his shop was located his eye caught someone quickly darting about on the other side of the street. Must be someone not wanting to be caught by the curfew agents, he guessed as he glanced down at his watch. Three and a half minutes until curfew. As James reached the door to his shop he reached a hand into his jacket pocket, fishing around for his keys. Without warning, something whizzed past his head crashing against the shops wall with the cacophonous sound of mangled metal on brick, missing him by mere inches. James stood dazed, staring blankly down at a gutted street sweeper droid, its circuits torn out and wires flickering with the last few bursts of impulse. James whirled around to face his accoster staring into the eyes of Ambrose Perkins, the owner of the robot repair shop down the street. “Ambrose, what the hell are you doing? If this is your idea of a joke it’s in extremely poor taste.” Ambrose snarled, frothing at the mouth and stamped the ground like a bull readying to charge. James noticed Ambrose’s sleeves were covered in a dark viscous substance that he could only assume was oil from the droid and stepped backwards in confusion until he hit the wall behind him. Ambrose lunged at James grabbing him by the neck with both hands, his nails digging into James’ skin. As James struggled for breath, he could now plainly see what covered Ambrose’s sleeves was in fact blood and an emotional chord of pure terror reverberated throughout his body. James tried with all he could muster but couldn’t break free from his assailants grasp; his legs gave way under him as Ambrose followed him to the ground pushing harder and harder against his larynx. The dim lights illuminating the walkway grew ever softer with James’ vision as he began to slip out of consciousness. Suddenly he heard in succession two loud sounds that felt as if they emanated within his own head. Ambrose Perkins’ face froze for a moment and he loosened his grip as James gasped for air and attempted to upright himself. Ambrose calmly stood up and stared blankly into nothingness as he clenched his stomach and small rivers of blood trickled over his fingers. He slowly tilted his head down resting his gaze on James whose was face tinged blue from lack of oxygen and eyes wide with fear. Another shot rang out in the streets and Ambrose keeled over on top of James who pushed him aside for fear of getting blood all over his clothes. “Are you alright citizen James Mills?” Not waiting for a response the enforcement officer started to speak into his recording device while simultaneously holstering his weapon. “Ambrose Perkins, 42. Dead at 10:06 pm. Wife and two children found mutilated at residence, subject located nearby assaulting another citizen. Looks like another case of shivers.” “Citizen, please return to your residence immediately as curfew is already in effect.” James feebly pointed to his shop and pushed the door open, crawling inside. He stumbled across his store making his way to the stairs that led to the small apartment above. James no longer had any sort of appetite, on the contrary he vomited violently into his kitchen sink for what seemed like an eternity his mind careening in a million different directions. Mr. Perkins, his family, the shivers. James was completely overwhelmed by the night’s events and collapsed in a heap on the linoleum floor.

James started awake with a jolt at the sound of loud rapping on his shops door. He stood and began to blearily make his way downstairs, stopping briefly at a mirror to notice the purple and red bruises that had bloomed on his neck. “Open up,” yelled a voice from the other side. James looked around and grabbed a nearby scarf from the coat rack, wrapping it around his neck and tossing one end over his shoulder.  He swung the door open revealing two law officers with furrowed brows and impatient looks upon their faces. The portly one pushed James aside, letting himself in followed closely by another with balem-lensed goggles and a moustache. The chubby officer walked around James’ shop eying everything as if he were searching for something for which he could incriminate. His gaze eventually fell upon James who had sat himself on a stool by the computer. “Citizen, we are aware you were the victim of an assault last night, and we are here to ask you a few questions and test you for shivers. Do you have anything to declare before we temporarily revoke your rights?” James shook his head, “No sir.” “Good then let’s get started, I am Officer Wilkes and this is my colleague Officer Pond,” Wilkes gestured towards the man in goggles who had placed a large metal case on the countertop and was fidgeting with the clasps on its side. “Citizen, what was your business being out so close to curfew on the night in question?” James stared out his shop window seeing a parade of law officers milling around the front of his shop, investigating the crime scene he assumed. “I had a meeting in the Sapphire Sector with a new client and the meeting ran a bit long, so I had to catch the last train of the day home.” Wilkes nodded, but seemed preoccupied by the commotion outside, “Yes of course, and what was your relationship to the recently deceased?” “Well sir, he ran the shop down the road. I’ve only ever really seen Ambrose on the street a few times where we would say hello. You know, friendly chat and the like. I once took my vacuum in for repair there, but he wasn’t in at the time so I had to take it elsewhere and…” Wilkes waved a hand cutting James off mid-sentence, “That’s fine, that’s fine. So you had no contact with the deceased the day in question prior to your assault?” “No sir.” “Were you aware that Mr. Perkins was illegally siphoning balem energy to power his shop?” James looked shaken, as the thought of his neighbors being involved in illicit activity without his knowledge made him feel uneasy, “No sir, I… I had no idea.” Wilkes leaned over the counter in an accusatory manner, “You gonna stick to that story?” James grew flustered, “Why yes sir, how would I have known anything about that? I would never endorse that kind of activity.” Wilkes raised an eyebrow “So you never noticed in all these months your shop was not being charged for balem consumption? I find that extremely difficult to believe.” James was shocked. He honestly hadn’t noticed anything of the sort as he had all of his bills put on an auto payment program. “Officer I swear, look here at my records. My bill payments go straight in each month automatically. I was never notified of any discrepancies. I didn’t know, I honestly didn’t.” Wilkes leaned back and motioned towards his companion, “Well, we will be able to tell if you had any contact with Mr. Perkins and his residence within weeks of his infection. Officer Pond, if you would be so kind.” The second officer adjusted his goggles, the purple crystal momentarily catching a reflection of light. He reached into the metal case drawing out two clamps attached by wire to a small black box inside. “Now relax Mr. Mills. I can’t tell you this won’t hurt because it will, but if you cooperate it will be over before you know it. That is, if you were telling the truth.” Officer Pond had already put on a pair of black rubber gloves, and along with his goggles and slicked back hair he looked like some nightmare of a dentist straight out of Hells waiting room. James recoiled but Wilkes held him firmly in place by the shoulders as Pond placed the manacles around James’ wrists. Pond then turned his attention back to the small black box flicking and turning a series of switches and knobs. With the first switch, the case hummed to life, and with each subsequent dial, grew louder and louder until James felt as if his entire shop had been transformed into a turbine engine. James could feel the weight of the manacles around his wrists and the sensation of tingling upon his skin as all his body hair went erect and was quivering, dancing in the air. Suddenly a jolt of electricity shot throughout James’ entire body, shaking violently his nerves and forcing him to grit his teeth in response. “Officer Pond, your readings?” “Mmm, Officer Wilkes it seems as if our friend here has…. Not been exposed to the shivers.” Pond glanced up at James who was sweating and shaking on his stool. “That’s a good thing Mr. Mills. That means you don’t have to be taken to quarantine. You do most certainly want to avoid that.” Pond chuckled a bit under his breath at the prospect. Wilkes seemed agitated with him, “What about his collusion with Ambrose Perkins? What do the readings say about that?” Pond leaned in close to the dials and tilted his goggles, “Hmm, there doesn’t seem to be any indication of balem energy exposure at the levels that were found in Mr. Perkins or his family, which would indicate our friend had not had any prolonged contact with the deceased in the last couple weeks. Although… no sorry, that was just a little bump, heh.” Wilkes shrugged, “Well Mr. Mills, James if I may, it seems you are clear and infection free. Congratulations.” As Pond started to power down the machine, James could feel the steady flow of pain leaving his body and noticed he had wet himself during the process. Wilkes reached down and removed the clamps from around James’ wrists, as he did so Pond shot an aggressive look towards the burley officer who either didn’t notice or choose to ignore it. As Officer Pond clamped his case shut, Wilkes moved towards the door, “The city of Phoenix appreciates your cooperation in this matter and apologize for any inconvenience we may have caused you. Please fill out the mandatory evaluation form for our stellar performance and return it to your local precinct within the next four days.” As the two were walking out of the door Wilkes turned around and said, “Oh, and expect a bill for the unpaid energy consumption along with the fee for your interrogation. Have a safe day.”

James sat and stared at the tiled wall in his bathroom with his arms wrapped around his legs as the warm water gently poured around his shoulders, streaming over his chest, and pooling at his feet. He pondered the life of Ambrose Perkins and his family. It was so sad knowing that such a brutal and unforgiving fate had fallen upon his wife and children. To be beaten to death by their loving husband and father, the sheer terror and betrayal they must have felt in those last moments was inconceivable to James. He felt so sorry for them, and so sorry for himself that he didn’t have a family. At least they had that in life before Ambrose caught the shivers and murdered them, at least they had love. In this moment James felt so very alone. The water trickled down his cheek meeting with a tear that was immediately washed away down the drain. ‘That’s it!’ James thought, pounding his wet fist on the shower floor creating a small splash. ‘From this point on I will be more assertive. I will smile and wave. I’m going to go out of my way, dammit, to meet new people!’ James stood up with renewed purpose and turned off the water. Stepping out of the shower James grabbed a towel, quickly wrapping the soft fabric around his waist. There was a commotion outside, but James assumed they were still investigating the scene of the crime from the night before. James trotted over to his dresser, giddy with the prospect of making new friends, and who knows, perhaps he would meet that special someone. He thumbed through his shirts, stopping on a flattering salmon colored polo with some smart looking stripes along the collar. He held it up against his body and nodded with approval. Once fully dressed, James stood for a while in front of the mirror practicing his smile, “Good day. Why hello there. Oh yes, this is quite a nice evening. Goooood day!” His smiles seemed an awkward motion, but James assumed it was because he was simply not used to it. Surely his happy face was not as odd looking to others as it felt on him. James started down the stairs humming to himself, but stopped as soon as he reached the bottom. The front window of his shop was broken and there was glass strewn all about. James could see something was happening outside, but his view was partially blocked by a torn banner that had been hanging above his storefront and fallen like a curtain. James hesitantly made his way around the counter and inched towards the busted out window. He could hear yelling from beyond the portal and decided perhaps this was not the day he would be putting himself out there. There was a groan from beyond the tattered banner, and James froze with trepidation as the embossment of a figure began to take shape, pushing its way through the fabric. The banner rose like a lifting veil, playing across the approaching specters motif. James pawed at the door behind him that led back upstairs, all the while keeping an intent gaze upon the intruder. As the banner reached the top of the stranger’s head, it flopped to the floor revealing a woman whom James had never seen before. From her uniform James could plainly see she was a law officer, but something was very amiss. Her uniform was bloodied and torn in spots revealing fresh scratches and wounds of varying sorts. James recoiled, he knew what this indicated. Her glassed over eyes, frothing mouth, she clearly had the shivers. James panicked and turned to unlock the upstairs door, but the woman furiously leapt across the room with unnatural speed toppling James over and pinning him against the floor. James grabbed at her wrists in an attempt to stave her off, turning his head to the side and yelling towards the street. “Help! Help! An infected, this woman has the shivers! Help!” James could hear someone responding as he struggled to throw the rabid woman from atop his torso . “Over here, behind the counter! Help me, please!” The responder grabbed the woman by the neck, tossing her to the side with great force. “Oh God, thank you.” James looked up to see the face of officer Wilkes looming over him. “Oh officer, she attacked me crazed with the shivers. You likely just saved my life.” There was no response, and James could only watch in what seemed like slow motion as Officer Wilkes descended upon him with all his weight and began to tear chunks of James’ flesh from his body. The last thing James could remember thinking is ‘This is exactly why I should never leave the house.’
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Tue, 07 October 2014, 19:17:16
I enjoyed your many run-on sentences... rules be damned..
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: AugustCanaille on Sun, 06 May 2018, 04:18:17
I was going to start a new topic to ask the question: Are there any writers obsessed with mechanical keyboards? But I've perused the site and come to a definitive no. My question arose from the fact that I wondered who else was a serious writer and seriously obsessed with this niche of technology. Obviously no one. And, to be sure, I meant real writers, not someone who writes blogs or Yelp reviews or the dross that is considered screenwriting nowadays.

I primarily am a novelist, but I write short stories as well, in the vein of Bukowski, Fante, Henry Miller. I am obsessed with Journey to the End of the Night, and I still wonder to this day what Celine wrote it on: probably a typewriter from the 30s. I just recently got into mechanical keyboards and it changed my life. Nothing else comes close to this feeling. Now I use Scrivener with any clicky switch I can get my hands on, backlit at night, with symphonic black metal in the background. It's a long way from writing a thousand-page novel with a suicide pen in solitary confinement.

I once read that Nietzsche's writing style visibly changed--around the time of Beyond Good and Evil--because he stopped writing with pen and pencil and began using a typewriter, which sharpened and condensed his thoughts. And if you start at The Birth of Tragedy and work your way chronologically, you can see it; his style become more epigrammatic. As the saying goes: Man shapes the tool, and the tool shapes the man.
Title: Re: Writing Thread
Post by: tp4tissue on Sun, 06 May 2018, 06:27:42
For a long time now I've noticed that people who type -at speed- 100wpm and above behave very differently compared to those who can not.

This has to do with time cost.

(Human external Bandwidth)


SynchronousAsyncronous
TextFastFastest
SpeechSlowestSlow



This difference in time cost dramatically changes the way a person may approach life.

For someone who can type rapidly and communicate using the asynchronous formats, talking AFK to another person becomes a tremendous chore.

The optimization for more rapid bandwidth greatly alters interpersonal dynamics.