Scratch

Exercise, for it's own sake is the mere turning of the gerbil wheel.  Spin and spin all you want, you'll get no where.  Exercise for the sake of development, for the sake of learning is the aggressive throwing of the gerbil wheel against the walls of an unbreakable cage.  Throw and throw all you want, all you'll get is a bent wheel.  Exercise for the sake of seeing what will happen is the process of dismantling of the gerbil wheel and turning it into an escape ladder and a pry bar to open the cage lid with.

The Agent refused to give in, ‘They certainly sounded like words.’  The old man sighed, ‘Yes, he will repeat whatever you say back to him but he does not mean anything he says because he can not mean anything with his words.’  The cloud man was still struggling to understand and so asked, ‘He does not mean what he says?’  The old man replied, ‘He does not mean what he says.’  The Agent frowned, ‘He only repeats what you say to him?’  The old man replied, ‘He only repeats what you say to him.’”  Yew closed the book.

Read the rest of week five here.

Styles

Dialogue versus description.  Who wins?  Well for this story, dialogue is the norm where as description comes only in the face of conflict.  I'm thinking it is an attempt to capture the "slow time" feel of a fight.  One would hope the author would have a more concrete grasp of why they are doing what they are doing but hey, I'm just playing, right?

Then Yew moves and the deputy’s nostalgia stops.  The larvae are so closely grouped that he can follow the Agent and wallop whatever moves in the water that isn’t human.  The splashes of blood and water come at the same time, their temperature and color mixed into a luke warm pink spray that immediately covers him from knee to head.  Twice he hits empty water.  Three times his club meets bone and flesh.  He finds his thoughtless mind filled only with these numbers, 2 and 3, like the score of some card game on a late night.

 Read the rest here.

1800 more

More words more words.  Not in love with the story yet but the exercise is its own justification and I expect things to pick up as in there should be some violence soon and what problem is not solved by the introduction of violence?

Lotus bends over and picks up a wood scrap.  She grins in a way that speaks of inevitability.  “Yup.  Those are the teeth of a larvae.”  She tosses it to Yew, who catches it, scans it quickly and nods his assent.

Jalod sighs.  “Well that is reassuring to hear.  I had begun to doubt myself, in spite of all the attacks nearby.  It still seems so unreal... that thing.  I had a hard time believing what I had seen.”  He looks back and forth quickly between the two Agents.  “You both must know what that is like, I’m sorry to burden you with my thoughts.”

 Click here to read the whole thing.

Still not still

Alright.  Six days of writing.  One day of not writing.  That means 1800 more words.  How many will be usable?  Maybe 500. Hope for 500.

Jalod continued.  “It was the smell.  It was like nothing I’d ever encountered before and yet it was a smell my body knew was wrong - like the smell of a dead animal, the smell of rotting meat.  When I looked up whatever had been there was gone.  I walked over to see if the other chickens were still there and they were, all pressed into the far side of the coop.  So I went back inside, retrieved some of the other Servants and we cleaned up the mess and repaired the damage.”

 Not sure where I'm going but I'm not worried either.  This is a crank it out and see what happens project.  Next one we plan more - k?  K.

Read the rest here.

Small steps

Story of the Agents of Change.  Their mission: to keep the world free of larvae.  Their doctrine: change is the only constant.  First section:

“There is a figure standing on the path up ahead, wearing a grey cloak.  Do you see it?”  Yew points down the path.

Lotus’ gaze does not follow the finger.  “It needs to be an open question.  I guess I wasn’t clear about that so maybe that’s my fault but it seems kind of obvious.  You need to provide some room in the question so that I can fill that room and that room creates more room for you to then fill with a response to what I said.  Because what I’m doing right now is making my own space and when people do that then no one else really wants or needs to join in.”  She looks down the path and spots the figure.  “It’s called dialogue, you know?”

“I suspect that’s our contact.”  Yew quickens his pace slightly and puts a slight smile on his face.

Lotus falls behind and mutters.  “I suspect that’s our contact.”  She bobbles her head back and forth mockingly.  “I suspect that’s because they sent a letter requesting assistance and said that a town representative will wait for us in a gray cloak two miles outside of town.  I suspect that’s not suspicion at all.  I suspect that when someone tells you something and then that something turns out to accurately reflect the facts then that’s knowledge, not suspicion.”

 Read the rest here.

Ergo Ego

The story of Oedipus Rex is a story of ego.  Maybe the story of any king is the story of ego.  Certainly this retelling is overflowing with ego from pretty much every character that crosses the page. I can't think of a single act of humility in the entire book.

Hubris, right?  That's the word I remember from reading ancient literature.  Who are humans to challenge the gods?  Or maybe more accurately, watch as the humans challenge the gods and get smushed.  As all single moral lessons do, it gets old.  You've heard it once, you've heard it a million times - no matter how true or relevant it is.

So it is with this book.  I've heard it before.  I know it's a rewrite of a classic and so obviously we know the main character is going to sleep with his mother.  I know he's going to kill his father - that's a given.  It's just that the theme is... well... a bit tired.  I'm never drawn in as a reader to care much for any of the characters.  They are all jerks who kind of get what they deserve - so who cares?

Maybe it's the length of the thing.  Oedipus was an egoistic jerk and Jocasta was kind of a twit but because it was a play the whole thing was sad.  Ed is a jerk and (his mother) Dianne is a twit but it's a full length novel and... yawn.

Yes the world is full of jerks.  Yes ego will lead you to ruin.  Done and done.  Avoid the jerks, tune down your ego and read the original.

Breakfast Knives

The Fertile Ground festival is coming up again next year and once again I've written a short play that will be a part of it.  So far we've gone through two re-writes and we've still got about 6 weeks to go.  Here's a brief taste:

Jillian:  Are we back to my taste in movies?

Jonas:  You and I and everyone else we know knows that you have bad taste in movies.

Jillian:  What if I think my bad taste is good taste?

Jonas:  You’re entitled to that, I suppose but it doesn’t change the fact that you have bad taste.

Jillian:  Do you have any real evidence for these accusations?

Jonas:  Alright, in that horrible movie you force fed me...

Jillian:  “The Minus 1”?

Jonas:  Yeah, whatever the hell it was called.  There was a fifteen minute scene... completely silent, I might add of people doing math equations on a chalkboard.

Jillian:  Does that remind you of any dreams you’ve had lately?

Jonas:  That’s different.  Someone deliberately directs a movie.  Nobody is in control of a dream.

Jillian:  Right, so after the montage?

Jonas:  Yeah, so then after the montage you finally pulled something out of the ground.

If you're feeling particularly helpful, you can read the whole thing here and give me some feedback.