Bored and Inspired. It's been fucking too long, goddamn.

Edward hated people. It was no surprise that he breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that the human race was being slowly exterminated. Edward hated people and this was a day of celebration for him.
But there was a time when he strove to do good things for all he knew, be it friends, family, or neighbors. His extroverted nature allowed him an easy ticket into the hearts of the community and his excessive involvement with volunteer work and local picnics cemented his place in the town of Havil, Illinois as a good man.
Edward, at the young age of twenty-five, had seemingly found his place in life. He even managed to court the town beauty, Rosetta Thompson, and after three short years, they were wed.
But not all in town thought of Edward in a fond way. Daleson Rook, a clerk who worked in the town hall, was all smiles as far as the other citizens could see, but inside this man broiled the scathing springs of jealousy and envy. And all hatred was aimed right at Edward.
Another enemy of Edward was less subtle than Daleson Rook and his name was Tom Young. A volatile drunk by night, garbage man by day, Tom Young's passion was for Rosetta Thompson and he preached to whoever was left in the bar about his undying love for her. Once Edward started dating Rosetta, Tom's rants became that of revenge and murder, of the unfairness and evil Edward who stole his true love from him. Tom was openly hostile to Edward whenever the two passed each other in town. It made life a little rough on some days for Edward.
The third and worst of Edward's enemies was a man who everyone just called Walt. No one really knew his full name but they knew he was crazy. And the fear for his abilities with knives was never concieved as trivial or unjustified. Walt was an war vet and by all accounts at the summer picnic, his winning the knife carving competition five years straight, only solidified the fear of this man many knew so little but feared so greatly. And Walt hated Edward so.


Just a warmup freewrite. Maybe I'll finish? Wanted to get my feet wet again. Ah, tis good, jah!?

RISE, DEAD BLOG, RISE!

I've had the itch. It's been subtle but constant. And now, I guess, I'm going to scratch that itch. Lightly at first. Maybe I'll muster enough gusto to full-on carve that sucker out.

But for now...a simple tidbit of creative whateverness.

RANDOM EXERCISE!

This is going to just be some sort of blueprint for an idea I've been juggling around in my head with.

Creating a Super Hero/Villian Character:

Powers -
Super Strength

Can summon illusions

Mind Control

Extreme Intellect

Can control a chosen person's sight (i.e. make them NOT see the train coming down the tracks)
Speak with the dead

Flying

Invisibility

Obtains minimal control over people who's names become tattooed onto their body

Can link their mind into the surroundings of any plant (trees, bushes, etc.) and see and hear via said plant but cannot taste, feel, or smell.



Okay, that's good enough for now. Next part will be weaknesses. (these are also random and direct from my head. No connections to the powers listed above but after it's all said and done, the point is to find the most interesting combination for a character)

Weaknesses/Drawbacks-

Poor vision when sun is out.

Feels extreme pain from cold.

Memory is partially erased if their powers are used too much.

If their is an opposite element/force/etc of characters power used on them (ice for fire, electricity for water, shadow for light, etc), their powers are activated and strengthed. . . and they have no control over it (think of it as an instinctual survival response).

Powers were gained via contract (the devil, a superpower, aliens, God, etc. . . example: Ghost Rider) and are obligated to do as they are bid or face numerous forms of not-good stuff.

Multiple Personalities. This one has all sorts of fun stuff that could go with it.

Has a evil/heroic clone depending on whether the character is a super hero or villain. (this could be arch nemesis as well)

The character could be very fucking stupid. Awesome powers but maybe, unlike so many comic book characters, maybe they're dumber than a rock? This could also add to some great stuff, I think.



Right. So, now there's that done. If anyone will actually read this, please PLEASE feel free to add to the lists here. Once I form a character I'm going to add more background detail to them and flesh them out a bit more. After that's semi-done, I'd like to work on an arch nemesis scenario.

I love this shit. More to follow. . .

Omnipotent Pigsnouts

It has occured to me that this blog is dead. I never update. I never write. No one else wants to write(unless I do, which I really haven't had the desire to do for some time, unfortunately).

And so for now, just so you know, I am letting this beast blow by for the time being. It will be here forever but it may only be slightly used. Depending on how motivated or inspired I feel. And I'm never either of them anymore. That isn't really great news, I know. But fuck, truth is truth. Somehow, someway, I will return to face this demon and I will be prepared for battle. My intellect will be my sword, my creativity, my shield. And my bright neon dildo, a gag-joke distraction so that I may plunge my sword into the heart of mine enemy. Huzzah! Wazzuh! Pizza?

So there it is. A eulogy of sorts. For the time being.

I will return. Oh yes, I will return.

Better Late Than Never. . .

So, it's July 4th (technically, it's the 5th but who's looking anyways?) and I've been a bad, bad, writer. I've neglected this poor bastard and for that I am sorry. However, to make amends, I'll do a quick freewrite. Because I can. I've reading a lot of short stories lately and I coming closer to a conclusion on my feelings about them. I think they're better than novels. They're shorter for one. But they also require a more thorough examination when writing one because of their relative short span. And so thus, my new goal is to pump out some drafts of short stories. The thing that I think works best with short stories, however, is that you might be able to expand on one that you've written. Perhaps make it a novel? I've read some SF short stories that that has worked for such as "Ender's Game" by Orsen Scott Card or "Blood Music" by Greg Bear. Card's story worked well in a novel. Bear's slumped and disappointed. So I am in the belief that it'll work superbly or it'll fall flat on its face. But you never know till you try, right? Right.

And so I'll start something here that may or may not be worthy of rehashing, rewriting, or even finishing. But that's the greatness of freewriting, it's always open to new things, ideas, and venues of creativity.


Someone once told me that when you're backed into a corner, you fight even harder. At the time I thought it made sense. With nothing to lose and being in a desperate state, you're more likely to grow claws, your eyes will dim and glimmer with a lusting rage, and even in a hopeless situation you will vent out with all you've got. Win all or lose all. When you're forced into that position, consequences are hardly your first concern. Survival takes over and you relinquish your senses to a carnal, primitive mindset; instinct consumes you.
It's quite an ironic statement to me at this point. I'm sitting here talking into a microphone that's I'm holding in my left hand, a loaded gun in my right. Since it's closing on 3 o'clock in the morning, all the lights in this office building are off creating a dismal scene around me. It's dark, it's quite, and it's where I somehow ended up. Very fitting, I think. In mere minutes my office door will burst open and the men chasing me will kill me, shoot me dead. And I'm not trying to survive it. I'm not going to fire back. An hour ago I would have, but now? I've seen what matters and my life isn't on that list. Not anymore. And that's why I'm recording this. To tell the truth. To make it be known what actually happened to Pamela Steinbrecht and Finny Zane. I'm going to blow the whole truth open here, right now, right before I die. I'll be able to hear the others coming down the hallway so I'll have the time to hide the tapes. They don't know about this little hand recorder in my desk so they won't be looking for it. And when it's found, they're all going to suffer for what has happened.
I better make this quick in case they arrive sooner than I wish them to.
Let me start at the beginning. . .


I have a good idea where this is going, but I have to work tomorrow and it's getting pretty damned late. Feel free to contribute to this piece. I've left it OH SO WIDE OPEN. For a reason, of course. And yeah, I know there's not much there. But we'll build it up maybe? Or drop it altogether. Who knows?

Ciao, goodnight, and good luck.

Introduction # 2 & Freewrite # 1

The Introduction Part 2:
I know I just started this blog a matter of days ago, but the writing lust took hold of me and thusly, I must now write.

How I freewrite is usually this: Take the subject matter or topic and think on it for only a moment. Then start writing without stopping for about 10 minutes. What you have as a result is usually crap. Absolute crap that has no place in the publishing world.

So what's the point? Well, I'll tell you. When you do a freewrite the purpose is only to push your mind into different venues of creativity, spurning new ideas, different perspectives, and is actually helping you see how you write. Freewrites is where tons of stuff can be pulled out of.

Last semester I was in a fiction writing workshop. One of our assignments every week consisted of at least two freewrites, and in doing so, I learned that freewrites expand ideas and open up so much to the imagination. Unfortunately, they don't write themselves.

WRITING IS NOT EASY. But have faith, if you work at it, it'll all get better.

And now, on with my freewrite!

What I'll do for the first freewrite is simple: I'm going to randomly write something. I'll start with a simple sentence work from there. You never know where it is going to go, but even if you feel that it is complete garbage, KEEP WRITING. It really is imperitive that you keep going. Set a timer if you're trudging along breaking yourself in two, write nonsense, just KEEP WRITING. And now? My first freewrite on this blasted thing.


Keep in mind, this is only a freewrite! It will, in all probability, suck very much. And grammar? Toss it because it's not important in these exercises.



THE FREEWRITE:
Cal looked out the window of his car and squinted through the rain-streaks pouring down. The house had a few lights on but everthing else seemed quiet save for the sound of the rain pummeling his car.
"You can do this you stupid piece of shit", he whispered to himself, clutching the shotgun with both hands. "You have to do this."
Just then the lights in the house began to go out, one by one.
First the kitchen light, then the living room light, and finally, a minute later, the bedroom light.
The squat white house was nestled deep in the suburbs with the typical mowed lawn, flowers and bushes decorating the front on each side of the porch, and a long, narrow driveway that went up behind the house to the two-stall garage.
Cal sat for another few minutes surveying everything. He had to be patient, he had to be calm. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Fuck it" he said, determination slowly ebbing back into his mind. He reached for the door handle and began opening the door, but his cell phone rang starkly, making Cal jump up in his seat and give a slight whimpering yelp in fright.
"Goddamn it!" he shouted, too loudly he realized after it was too late. He opened the car door slightly and then shut it. The phone kept ringing. Cal stared out the windshield unsure of what to do. Another car drove up behind him, the headlights a myriad of shapes through the streams of water cascading down the windows. Another moment and the car passed. Cal took another deep breath and answered the still ringing cell phone.'
"This better be good, goddamn it."
The voice on the other line drained the blood from Cal's face, he dropped the phone and it landed in his lap. The shotgun slowly slid from his grasp and fell between the carseat and the door. Cal's eyes were wide with shock, his breathing coming in quick puffs.
"No." was all he could say before turning the car on and speeding off into the frenzied night, a night that should have ended all his problems. Cal knew now, however, that his problems had just started.

I cut this one short because someone was actually calling me. That's...really creepy. Next freewrite soon! Any comments, suggestions, additions? Let me know! So far, no one has even probably looked at this blog but I'm gonna try my damndest to change that. That's all for now.

The Initial Reasoning For Yet Another Blog...

I'm here to write. I'm going to be utilizing this blog as a means of inspirations and exercises in the creative writing process. This isn't all just for me, though. I would like to invite other writers to do the same and draw upon our creative differences, ideas, and basically support each other through the hard times that writing can place us.

Writing, when I do it, is such a great thing for me. My problem lies in the horrible fact that I'm a procrastination expert. I'm also quite lazy. So, there is my other motive for creating this blog.

I'm starting this blog by myself, but I hope that some others out there will participate as well!

Once I get some people showing up I'd like to start a writing exercise every week. It will be different each week and there will be other options as well.

One idea that I am stealing for an exercise: Throw out a word, any word. Use that word as a basis for a freewrite. Just think of something, anything, and write about it. Don't think too hard, though. This isn't for publishing or getting your name out there. That's something we all have to do on our own. What I want to do with these exercises is fine-tune the art of writing. Practice makes perfect and I know this now more than ever before.

So if I'm alone in this, such is life. If I'm not, though? STRENGTH IN NUMBERS, PEOPLE!

Hope to see some of you soon. Happy writing!