Tag Archives: Prose

Random Writings

Some of my writings from THREE years ago. The lovely thing about the internet, is you can preserve things in their original status forever (or until the site goes under)

I look back on where I started and can’t help cringe, but that’s a sign that I’ve improved, right?

In other writing news: taking advantage of not being employed or in school full time and going for the full FIFTY THOUSAND Words goal for National Novel Writing Month. I had fallen behind but managed to catch up on Sunday where I wrote seven thousand words in one day. 

I put off actually starting  the Luther Paradox reboot enough to use it for NaNoWriMo. And I’m 45k + along and enjoying myself.  Sure I’ll have a lot of editing to do once I finally finish the story (which won’t be on November 30th) but this is the first time in almost six months that I am enjoying writing again.

But once I have gone through the project and revised it, I’ll start posting at least segments of it  here. I’ll never “live-blog” my NaNo story like I did two years ago. That was a mistake looking back.

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The Luther Paradox

Or the story that finally breaks my writing drought after three months.

I was sitting in my History of Christian Churches classes last year, learning about the Reformation, when a story idea came to me. What if Martin Luther had been prevented from posting his 95 Thesis? What if there was a time travel element – if the person who stopped Luther was from the future… if he was a time traveling mercenary?  I played with the first draft during National Novel Writing Month in November and got to about 20,000 words before I realized my story wasn’t going anywhere plot wise. I had focused far too much on my protagonist, giving him a back story that was quickly turning him into a Mary Sue character. There is a reason why I never bothered posting anything I wrote back then.

I decided to reboot my own story and start again, playing around with the plot until I picked a starting point that would just jump right in. I don’t want to give too much away in case of spoilers but I’m hoping to weave a tale that combines religion – the Catholic Church specifically – and Time Travel.

Finally writing again after the summer drought feels good, but my confidence is shaky (actually, that’s nothing new). I have decided to post the first two thousand words for feedback.

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Character Sketch

School has started up again, and so has my creative writing class. The first assignment is a one page character sketch.

I had intended to create a character from scratch, but found I had writers block. – Now I realize that I made the right choice in taking a second character based class instead of the plot one. – So I decided to sketch my best friend Jane.

***

It was clockwork: every March, my best friend  Jane would get such a nasty cold that nearly incapacitated her for two weeks. In a school of overachievers, Jane overachieved the most. She loaded her schedule with as many AP classes as our school would allow, with the rest being honors classes. We had a motto, “BS is two thirds BLS” because most of us overachievers excelled at getting the most out of the least work. But not Jane. She fired on all cylinders in every class, which meant she had to do homework every night for 6 classes.

On top of her heavy school load, Jane was on Varsity crew. During crew preseason she would run laps around the basement of our school with her teammates every day for almost two months. That was right around February and March, so maybe the added stress is what caused the yearly cold. In gym class, especially before she joined crew, she never seemed very athletic, but after a few years of crew, she was muscular. She loved to run and row.

Jane is really down to earth when it came to things outside of school. Her hair is always shorter than her shoulders, barely long enough to put into a ponytail most of the time. It’s just one aspect of her no-nonsense approach to her appearance. She never wears make up, and the majority of her clothes were chosen for their comfort over anything else. While we were at school and most of our classmates were very style conscious, Jane stood out by ignoring what was popular. It seemed most of her shirts came from gift shops and souvenir places.

Jane is soft spoken, with a generous sense of humor. She’s never the first one to start laughing, but joins in almost immediately. She prefers dinners with her friends, sometimes as a big group but mostly one at a time. It doesn’t matter what we do or eat, because we always have a good time.

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I’ve Got a Secret

So I realized I haven’t written anything in ages and that needs to be fixed. And I also noticed that this is my 80th post! So I’m celebrating a bit.

I’m going back to my old standby whenever I need to write but can’t seem to. Edward Hopper paintings.  “Nighthawks” is his most famous painting.

I typed in “Nighthawks and Abortion” into google on a whim and got this little article. It doesn’t even mention abortion but it is a great idea, that the woman in red is the epitome of loneliness because she stands out from everything else in the picture. (Which is either too dark or too light)

Anyways, this is just a first draft. And yes I noticed similarities between this and “Hills Like White Elephants” by Ernest Hemingway. I’m not saying I think I’m as good as him, just that I’m taking almost the same situation.

I’ve got a secret.

I’m not sure if I can tell him. But it’s only been a few days and already I feel it gnawing at me, each day getting stronger. How long can I keep this up?

They had walked to the only place they knew would be open after they had gone to the last showing at the movie house. It was the awkward time of night where it was too early to go home yet too late to do much else. So they walked slowly through the muggy summer night, mostly in silence. The movie wasn’t very good. By the time they reached Phillies they were tired. The only other customer had barely acknowledged them as they shuffled into the cafe. They waited a few seconds for their eyes to adjust before picking adjacent stools on the opposite end of the counter.

“Kitchen’s closed, folks,” the sodajerk said.

She just eyed the gigantic coffee urns sitting on top of the counter a few stools down from them.

“Coffee, please” it was the first time he spoke since he suggested this place.

“Decaf for me please” she added hastily as the sodajerk went to get their coffee. Her boyfriend gave her a brief look.

“I uh… need to be up early tomorrow.” She didn’t look him in the eye.

“oh. well you could have said something back at the movie house.”

“No, no, I wanted to stay out with you a little longer.” She forced herself to flash a smile at him. “Besides, it’s been so hot out that my apartment needs to cool down before I can sleep.” He nodded in agreement.

The coffee arrived and she gratefully took a big gulp before realizing just how late it was. She nearly spit it out before setting the cup down. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice how bad it tasted. She reached for the sugar and poured in more than her usual two spoonfuls.

“Want some?”

“Oh, no thanks.” He looked at the sodajerk who was drying some cups. “Do you have any milk?”

“We’re out.”

“Cream?”

“Out. It is Saturday night.” He looked at the clock. “And I’m closing in 20 minutes.”

He didn’t seem fazed by this at all. She briefly considered just telling him now. The other customer stared intently at a newspaper that was soon to be yesterday’s news, his coffee cup sat forgotten at his elbow. She wondered what brought him here alone, on a summer Saturday night.

They sat in silence for a bit, nursing their coffees as if they were alcohol. She didn’t feel able to speak and he didn’t think he needed to. The silence sat awkwardly among them. It wasn’t comfortable but it wasn’t oppressive either; it was just silent.

Finally she opened her mouth. “You know I…”

“Closing time folks. I’m gonna have to ask you three to leave.” The other customer paid and quickly disappeared, leaving his newspaper on the counter. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. 10 cents for the coffees mister.”

He fished a dime out of his pocket and put it out on the counter. Neither had finished their coffees, but they didn’t care. They just nodded goodnight as they slipped into the still heat once again. Instinctively they started heading for her place. The streets around Phillies were dead, even a few store fronts empty. This part of town had seen better days.

“God, it didn’t even cool down yet.” He looked at his watch. “And it’s already almost 11.”

She felt uncomfortable; the coffee wasn’t sitting well with her and she swore she felt a little dizzy. “Let’s not rush home then.” She knew she wouldn’t have been able to tell him right now, with even though they were alone. She saw him screaming his head off, waking up the lucky people who were already asleep and making a scene. How did she even think she could have told him at Phillies?

The buildings slowly changed from the silent old-timers to the younger, livelier row houses. Her neighborhood was in transition like all the others, but it seemed to be for the better. They reached her door stoop without her really noticing.

“Well.”

“Next weekend?” she asked.

“I really should check what’s playing. I don’t want to sit through that again.”

“Fine. Maybe dinner then?”

“Maybe. I’ll give you a call by Thursday.”

He kissed her on the cheek and then vanished into the darkness.

She let herself into the building without looking back and went up the stairs to her apartment. She came into her apartment with a loud sigh. Instead of heading straight to bed, she took out her phone book and looked up her best friend’s number. If she couldn’t tell her boyfriend that she was… Don’t think it! then she would at least tell her best friend. She needed to tell somebody soon. She left the book opened to the page right under her phone.

He doesn’t need to know. Then she turned out the light and went to bed.

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Evolution

of  writing that is. This is beyond the revising that goes into a piece, especially for class. There’s a first draft, changes are made and then there’s the second draft. Usually the changes end there. And the drafts are usually pretty similar. If there was any major revising, the essence of the first draft can still be seen/felt in the second draft.

No, this goes beyond that kind of revising. These “drafts” of the same project are so different from one another that they are more like phases. They all have the common theme and subject but that is it.

It all started just over 4 years ago when Continue reading

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Talaxian Tomatoes Confessional

I am a huge Trekkie and fell in love with Star Trek Voyager while at college. Voyager went off the air right before I started seventh grade, in May of 2001. I never watched it on TV, but I found its presence online. There’s fan videos on youtube as well as a few online communities. I belong to one that is filled with Fan-Fiction writers and readers.

Fan-fiction is a funny thing. I’ve dabbled in it over the years. When I was at BLS, I had several friends who were really into it. I read a few fics about Harry Potter, but I never really saw the point in writing my own. I was, of course more interested in writing original fiction.

Fast Forward to 2010, and I find there’s still a glass ceiling that I need to break through in my writing. I will break it, but I have to work hard the next year and a half, especially if I still want to end up in a MFA program. But I agreed to take part in a Secret Santa Story Swap run by some members of the community.   It’s really the only time I force myself to write fic.  Unfortunately, the week before the gift was due, I ended up working more than 40 hours. I felt pretty rushed, and I was worried that the person who requested a story from me (it’s all done anonymously) would hate it.

I was pleasantly surprised. It seems I can write fanfic pretty well. I thought about it and realized, I’m already dealing with compelling characters, who were drawn out over seven years of television.

So as an experiment, I’m putting up my fanfic story to join the ranks of the other writings I have on here.

Title:  Talaxian Tomatoes Confessional                                                                                                            Rating: PG

Copyright notice: Everything characterwise belongs to Paramount. (I’m just borrowing them real quick)

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The Power of the Exiled – Ch 6 Pt 3

This is probably going to be the last I post for a few weeks. I have finals that need to be taken care of, and this is where I ran out of gas two weeks ago. What follows after this isn’t good enough to post (and it is mainly from Andrew’s Journal so I would have to update what I posted so far)

There isn’t any jump between part 2 and 3.

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