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Sunday, May 10, 2009
Just converted the pixish historical Eras into rough equivalents according to the Gregorian calendar. Normally I would keep track of things according to how many hundred/thousand years ago they happened.
The oldest surviving dates for any historical era are for the second Era of the Empire, and they suggest that this Era started roughly 3,300 years ago. That's 1,300 BC. It spanned 1300-100 BC. The next Era spanned 100 BC - 500 AD; the one to follow 500 - 800 AD; the one following that 800 - 1700 AD; finally the current era is 1700 - present.
Ah, perspective.
The sprites weren't anywhere near the Kingdom of Kellari, were only barely starting to unify by 650 AD or so; contact with humans didn't take place until 1250 AD; the Novesroth rebellion/revolutionary war didn't happen until 1400 or so; Kellari's last civil war and the isolationist movement that cut off contact between Laquanya and Earth didn't happen until ~1700. US independence didn't happen until halfway through the 1800s (in this alternate universe).
Jeeeeeeeebus.
Current mood:  working
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
So I've gone through my writing folder and found a large number of things I've never posted for many reasons (most of the time because they're not finished). Some of these I actually plan on finishing and posting; others have been abandoned, but I remember them fondly; a few I shot dead long ago.
In light of the holiday season, and also how I haven't posted anything of merit in months, I'll be opening the vaults for a little while and posting unfinished pieces and snippets of WiPs. And I'll kick it off with an HP fanfic I started writing the day after I finished book 7, back before Dumbledore was gay for his former buddy, and the community for them was only an excuse for slash (similar to the Albus Severus/Scorpius comm). [/I fangirled it before it was canon wank]
Anyway, I quite like the dialogue. First extended bit is how it would've begun; I've added explanations in brackets for the scenes that I began writing halfway through.
( “How does one bring up the subject of revolution?” )
And that's all I have for now. Sorry it stops mid-scene, but I promised myself that the point of posting vault stuff was so I wouldn't write more, just get it out there and maybe get myself back into gear writing some of these as a result. Maybe... you found the look into how out-of-order I write my scenes interesting?
Current mood:  hungry
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
8:59PM
Epic fic is epic (13-thousand+ words, and we're only about 5 chapters in), time consuming, and extrapolating wayyyy too much from a few stray comments in canon. Ain't that the way? ^^;
Also, it sucks that the only time I succeed at writing humor, it's for an obscure fandom where the canon is already inherently ridiculous, which does half my job for me (Macdonald Hall, for those of you who know). Perhaps I need to stop thinking about What I'm Saying With This Piece Of Writing and start pulling ridiculous crap out of my ass? Seriously, that's how we're writing this--when we need prank/odd plot device ideas, we invent noodle Incidents that involve a combination of 3 improbable objects (example: a pink gingham dress, a bucket of ink-water balloons and a flugelhorn), and then never explain them.
Anyway, I'm not sure why I felt like posting this. To claim that I'm not just being a lazy fuck writing-wise and/or I'm not being eaten alive entirely by my Japanese and classical Chinese homework? That's probably it.
Current music: "Tells me that she's lived about 100 lives, scares me to death when she thinks and drives..."
Monday, July 21, 2008
Taken from ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) lorataprose:
Ask me my characters' thoughts on [insert subject here], whether it's sex, the apocalypse, or another character, or what. I will write back an explanation.
( A list of characters )
You can ask one question to a whole bunch of characters, specific ones, several questions to different ones, whatever you want so long as you don't leave, like, a hundred. ^^; Happy asking.
Current mood:  okay
Friday, March 7, 2008
What had me down and stalling so much over the past while was Catch-Magic's inconsistencies. Go back and read Rilath and Enhash's introduction scene; they're NOTHING like the characters they've become. Plot devices/characters I put in during draft 1 when Catch-Magic was a self-contained novel, as well as just plain not-well-thought-out aspects, do not work.
So, a brief rundown of major changes to keep in mind.
1) Rilath wandered in the desert for 3 decades and change after the death of Queen Nyrmei, whom he loved unrequittedly, and who died giving birth to current royals Theros, Thain and Nyseiz'y.
2) Cassie and Tobias don't get along. No, really don't get along. He hit on her when they first met, she slapped him, now they goad each other and bicker like children.
3) Grandmère, the old woman who took Evie in, doesn't exist. Evie ran away from her temporary foster parents' place, ran into Cassie at a fast food place, stayed with her for a day or two, ran away from her, ended up in the Braxton's yard, where the House took her in. On the way home from visiting Evie's former, charred house, they're chased by a Darshyque; James gets separated from them, runs into Tobias, who helps him get back to his friends because he has a Thing for helpless schoolboys in glasses. The gang, +1 new addition, is chased again by Darshyque (the same scene where Evie freezes them dead). Tobias offers to help them out, because he has a Thing for helpless schoolboys in glasses.
4) Chris doesn't go with them to Kellari. Not sure yet how, exactly, this comes about, but a) there are too many characters to keep track of in Lenest-Levine-Zing-Cassie-Denlye-Jhu scenes already, b) any plot-forwarding role he has can easily be adapted and handed over to Zing instead, c) this allows Chris to become a vital plot-forwarding force in the beginning of book 2, and d) being left out will be a major influence on his character development, which will also lead to vital plot-forwarding in book 2.
So to show that I actually have been working recently--since coming to England, which doesn't sap my will to live/write like France did--here are a few excerpts.
( Revised prologue from the revised prologue )
( Chapter 1, section 3 (Rilath & Enhash's introduction), completely redone )
Current mood:  happy
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Working Title: Hate and Cheerfulness - U104
Rating: PG, for implied sexual situations/prostitution
Summary: Android U104 explores the logic and illogic of human emotions, focusing on "hate", whether or not it is a concept worth adopting.
Author's Notes: Completely unoriginal, but lorataprose liked it, and as it was a gift to her for finishing her workshop piece, posted 'cause she encouraged such. Beware how the ending just isn't. Anyone is, as always, welcome to leave crit. A better title is, as usual, greatly appreciated if you think of one.
( She hated being cheerful all the time. That was her greatest accomplishment, one that was hers alone. )
Current mood:  full
Monday, December 24, 2007
“Five hundred dollars? For a one hundred gram package?” The woman’s mouth gaped open, distinctly fish-like however cliché the comparison.
“It’s the day after Christmas, Ma’am,” Lisa said, concealing a grin that was too mean for a Christmas elf. Which is what she was dressed as, shop gimmicks being cheesy as they were. Although Lisa supposed that a gimmick probably stopped being cheesy when it worked so well. The store certainly received its share of attention from shoppers, being the only one in the mall that hadn’t undergone the hasty scramble to take down its Santa doll and plastic reindeer. Sandwiched between an electronics store, which strove always to be the most up-to-date, and an antiques boutique, which thought itself too cultured to put up decorations in the first place, the Yesterday Post Office was a winter wonderland of spray-on snow and service workers dressed in green tights and elf ears.
“But—but—That’s more than I make in a week!” the lady was protesting, clutching her jewelry box-sized package as if it were as precious as her little girl, whose hand she held tightly in her left.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Lisa said, sounding nothing of the sort. “But our store provides an entirely unique service, and I’m sure you can imagine it is most in demand on December 26th. As you can see,” she added on, waving a tired hand at the line clear out the doors and around the corner, and the wall shelves, which were stocked floor to ceiling with packages wrapped in manically cheerful holiday paper, “we’re swamped already. Perhaps if you didn’t want it delivered so very early…”
“But they’re Christmas presents for my son at college,” she protested. “He can’t receive Christmas presents on Christmas night.”
“Unfortunately, Ma’am, all of our clientele feels the way you do about their loved ones, and they put their names on the waiting list earlier.” Lisa picked up a clip board, blew some flakes of paper snow off the top and flipped back two pages, tugging thoughtfully on the cotton ball end of her hat. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind around noon yesterday, we can deliver your present for only three hundred dollars—or for two hundred fifty at three o’clock yesterday afternoon—“
“These are criminal, your prices—pure exploitation—a monopoly—“
“The only reason we have a monopoly, Ma’am, is because we’re the first company to have mastered short-term time travel. Please be assuaged by the fact that next year, we expect that many new companies offering similar services will have opened, all charging similar prices.”
The woman, snapping the gift back into her overlarge purse, muttered something about the police being happy enough to use the same services for the good of the public. She glared over her daughter’s head, ready to criticize and waste the store’s time when she wasn’t going to buy anything. Which, of course, the store couldn’t have.
Lisa did grin then, and vindictively. “We workers here at the Yesterday Post Office are perfectly willing to oblige all your holiday needs, Ma’am, but unlike the fine men and women of the State Police, we are not given state funds for our endeavors. I am sorry that we couldn’t be of assistance to you today, and please consider our services in the future when you forget to send out your son’s birthday present, as well; after all, birthdays very rarely fall on major holidays, so there should be few delays or excess charges when sending such a package.”
The woman, visibly offended to the very core of her soul, clenched her daughter’s hand so tightly the girl winced and swept herself from the shop. “Merry Christmas, Ma’am!” Lisa called as the shop bell, replaced by the sound of jingle bells, sounded out cheerfully. She then bent herself in half laughing, flipped off the “open” light, taped an apology letter to the window, and slammed the front door shut in the faces of the line of customers outside, fresh with the reminder of how much she loved working over the holidays.
Current mood:  accomplished
Thursday, October 18, 2007
The examiner pressed her lips together, then sighed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Monternal, but I cannot give you a passing mark for your work this time around. Perhaps next semester…”
Matthew packed his copy of the textbook into his bag, rolling his eyes when the action allowed him to twist away far enough for the examiner not to see. This was his third semester flunking the exam, a special occasion seeing as how they’d given him Olenzack, who was notorious for passing the most flunkies on to Advanced Occult. The corner of his book snagged and pulled torn material in the lining of his bag.
“Excuse me,” said the dead man lying strapped to the table. “I don’t mean to intrude or anything, but—where am I?”
“You certainly have the potential for great success, there’s no doubting that,” Madame Olenzack continued to Matthew, eyes darting to the dead man but choosing to ignore him. “In fact, I must confess I and the other professors are perplexed by your results, what with your family history.”
“Excuse me,” the corpse began more tentatively than before. “Am I… dead? I remember a… car running the light…”
“Yes, you’re dead, and a lab rat to boot—doesn’t that make you proud?” Matthew drawled, sidestepping the examiner’s sharp rebuke about how speaking with the dead wasn’t kosher.
The dead man, who couldn’t pale, trembled. “This… isn’t heaven.”
“No, it’s a classroom, and you wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t screwed up my necromancy exam—“
“That will be all!” Madame Olenzack shrieked, running her hand over the dead man’s eyes. He stopped trembling, laid still like corpses were supposed to.
Matthew shrugged and exited the room, dragging his bag across the floor a ways before slinging it onto his shoulders. He thought his examiner had been sort of unfair—a faulty reanimated corpse was better than none; it could move, and you could convince it to do your bidding, even if it wasn’t a proper flesh-eating drone.
And hell, at least this one hadn’t exploded.
Current mood:  blah Current music: Voices from the next room over
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Part 3 of Eating the Stars and Gran's Dilemma:
( Duchess stood tall atop the stairs, surveying a jungle-gym castle. )
[A/N: For the curious, Sugar's sister/Tart/Jerry is 11-12, Sugar/Sweet/Sherry is 7, Duchess is 10, and Duchess' head servant Adam, who will be making an appearance later, is 8. The incident that killed off the adults and most children above age 4 happened 5 or so years ago.
As including data for a character who hasn't shown up yet may suggest, I have somewhat of a direction for this now! *party streamers and balloons*]
Current mood:  lethargic
Sunday, June 24, 2007
4:41PM
Current mood:  annoyed
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
As you may have noticed, the beginning of Catch-Magic is under heavy review. The removal of inconsistencies aside, I face the archetypal battle between presenting the information the reader needs and making the damn thing interesting enough they don't fall asleep. I would love to start my story out with, "Creeeeeek—crash-shatter-whumph-slam!", which is a helluva lot more eyecatching than "No one noticed when a glassy, translucent orb in an out-of-use back corner trembled, shedding layers of dust.", but so far it is not of the working.
In the interest of this, I post what I hope will be the opening lines of Catch-Magic's sequel (working title of Drashanen's Catch):
"Your mother," Shirley Temple said, standing on tiptoe to lean against the bartop, "was a whore."
Tobias sighed; this was the third time this week.
I want to know: if you were in a bookstore, opened a book at random and that was the first line, would you continue? If you could please spare me 30 seconds to comment with a simple "It works" or "It doesn't work" at least, I would appreciate it muchly. Also, I would love suggestions for ways I could make the newer C-M prologue more interesting.
[Edit: ( Possible rewrite of the 'new' Prologue )]
Monday, April 30, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
Inspired by a news excerpt I saw this evening. I'm relatively proud of it, as it was written on a lark.
( But that's illegal! )
Saturday, February 3, 2007
[A/N: Was trying to finish up the next chapter of Catch-Magic for this occasion, but it's not cooperating. Good news is that it's almost finished... >.>
Also something you must know before you read this: I am eating egg salad and corn pizza. Mmmmmm.]
( My moustache brings all the girls to the yard )
Current mood:  chipper Current music: "I Hope I Get It" - Chorus Line
Saturday, December 30, 2006
Part 2 of this messed up thing. Still don't know where I'm going with it; it sounds like the introduction to either a short story or a long novel, so let's pray for the former for the sole reason that I don't think I could deal with a whole book of this.
Needless to say, as nonsensical as this is, it'll help a bit if you read the first part.
( Gran sat majestically atop the staircase. She was good at stuff like that. )
[A/N: wtfcrows? Guess there's a crow empire. *shrug* I'll go with it.
Again, suggestions for a direction for this plot, although not necessarily adopted, are appreciated.]
Current music: Inuyasha themes
Sunday, December 10, 2006
( “We once had stars. Mama and Papa and the adults all ate the stars.” )
[A/N: Believe me, I'd like to know as much as you. Maybe I'll go somewhere with it; maybe it'll sit here and fester. It was inspired somewhere between rewatching Corpse Bride (this time dubbed in Japanese) and reading chapter 1 of a manga called Sugar Rune, which is quite cutesy and not at all messed up so really, no idea. Something in the wtf factor reminds me of Deva's sea serpent story (at least in the first prose short of IBG as I haven't seen any other version [/disclaimer]).
If I do continue, in addition to the sky being something that must be maintained (magically/psychically/wtfever), I'm toying with the idea of taking words very literally. For example, stealing a person's heart becomes a much more serious crime in this universe.
Uh... suggestions/comments? **fishes for anything that could work with this**]
Current music: Sarah's a capella group's CD
Monday, December 4, 2006
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