Sarapen's Journal

Mike versus Mac

Fri, 04 Dec 2015 03:40:52 GMT

I finished that Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out fanfic a while ago, though it wasn’t picked for that anthology. I have to agree with that decision because I kind of rushed the writing. Ironically, the fic wasn’t as good as I wanted it to be because I was distracted by a video game. (Dragon’s Dogma, in case you were wondering. It’s not the greatest thing ever but it scratched my RPG itch for several months)I meant to revise the fic before posting it but I soon forgot about it and about writing fanfiction in general. I just kind of lost interest. Then I stumbled across it again recently, so I thought I might as well put it up.
Here finally is Mike versus Mac.

Breaking his silence for the first time in almost 30 years, Little Mac describes The Battle of the Decade to our reporter. The story of Mike versus Mac straight from the horse's mouth! Read it all in this month's issue of Sports Illustrated!

( Read more... )

comments

Two great tastes

Mon, 09 Jun 2014 01:50:26 GMT

You know, I like Orphan Black and I like Avatar: The Last Airbender, but I don’t really see why both series should be featured in the same fanfic. Also, good holy crap but there are already thirty-one pages of Orphan Black fanfics on Archive of Our Own when the show is only a bit over a year old. I’ve forgotten what it was like to be in an active fandom.

comments

The Traitor – Prologue

Tue, 21 Jan 2014 03:47:12 GMT

I revised the prologue because I thought the original was too wordy and kind of purple prose-y in bits. Henceforth follows the new version.

Zuko was thirteen years old when he realized that his father didn't love him.

At the time, this revelation came as a complete surprise to Zuko. Years later, with a clarity afforded by distance, he could admit that his doubts had been growing steadily, like a mountain built up pebble by pebble, or a dam eroding day by day.

Like the cracks in an eroding dam, Zuko tried to shore up his doubts. Perhaps his father favoured his sister, but that was only because of her skill in firebending. Perhaps his father despised Zuko's soft heart, but that was only because his father wanted him to be strong. Surely if Zuko grew stronger and hardened his heart then his father would show his approval. Surely then his father would love him.

But monsters do not love, no matter how much their sons desire otherwise. And so, after inadvertently insulting his father in public, after unknowingly challenging his father’s disregard for the lives of Fire Nation soldiers, after discovering that he was to duel his lord and father, after begging for forgiveness that did not exist, after being mutilated by his own father, after experiencing firsthand the mercy of the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation – in short, after having every cherished belief violently destroyed – Zuko stopped being Zuko.

The Crown Prince entered the dueling grounds, but afterwards he did not spend three days holding back cries of pain. He did not listen to his sister gravely deliver news of his banishment while she mocked him with her eyes. He was not given the impossible task of finding the Avatar, a person who had not been seen in a hundred years. He did not silently listen while Uncle Iroh offered his help, did not stew in bitter rage while his ship crossed the oceans and did not stare with burning eyes at the Earth Kingdom port where they had docked.

The Crown Prince entered the dueling grounds, but it was the Blue Spirit who left. It was the Blue Spirit who looked out upon the Earth Kingdom, who took first one step down the gangplank then another, away from the Fire Lord, away from Uncle Iroh, and away from the Fire Nation. It was the Blue Spirit who stepped off the ship towards the Earth Kingdom, who stepped forward towards the future, towards vengeance, towards destiny.

comments

You're not Alexander the Great

Sat, 09 Nov 2013 05:27:41 GMT

There seems to be a peculiar project to create even more crappily written novellas for Worlds of Power, a defunct series of novellas based on video games released for the Nintendo Entertainment System console. Well, there’s nothing demanding that the submissions be terrible but apparently the original editions were really bad. I wondered exactly what kinds of stories would be submitted so I started looking through lists of NES games, then one thing led to another and before I knew it I was writing a fanfic for Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out. An excerpt:

Mike versus Mac

Most of the people reading this weren’t alive during the Moon landings. Most of the people reading this weren’t alive during the Kennedy assassination. A few might be too young to remember 9/11. Somehow, history refuses to be conveniently accessed. Somehow, history happens without us being there.

I think about this as I drive through Los Angeles on my way to a certain house in Carson. Most of the people in the neighbourhood are Filipino, and I even pass Jollibee, a restaurant franchise which has almost all of its locations in the Philippines. Finally I pull into the driveway of a modest home and before I even open my car door the owner comes out and shakes my hand. How are you, he asks. How was the drive?

I’ve never had an interview subject so eager to talk to me. Before I know it, I’m ushered through the house and into the den. “This is where I keep my old stuff,” says my apparent new best friend. There might have been several things on fire in that room, but I don’t notice because my eyes are drawn to a poster on the wall. It’s screaming about a boxing match set for October 5, 1987. Two men, one white, one black, face off with grim determination. Mike versus Mac, it says. The Battle of the Decade.

We’ll see if my inspiration will continue. I’ll have to read some Sports Illustrated articles to check the writing style.

comments

Micro-fic

Wed, 11 Sep 2013 04:44:48 GMT

Herewith is a quick snippet of individual spirit snatched from the alienation of modern life (i.e., something I wrote while at work). It follows immediately after the previous scene I posted. This scene is unfinished but what the hell, here it is:

“I can’t be sure, but I’m almost positive this is your fault,” said Katara as she frantically hopped up and down in the prison cell.

“Well, I can’t be sure, but I’m almost positive you can go suck my balls,” said Toph as she sulked in the corner of the room.

“You don’t have balls, Toph, you just have a mouth that’s too big for your own good.”

“Well, you have a butt that's too big for your own good.”

“I'll have you know I have an excellently shaped rear. Wait, how would you even know? Are you feeling me up in my sleep?”

“Duh, how else can I tell what you guys look like? Did you forget that I'm blind?”

“Eww, Toph, you're like an onion of perversion. Every time I think you can't get any worse you end up topping yourself. Wait, did Aang actually wet his bed back in Ba Sing Se or was that you pranking him?”

“Hehe, do you remember him trying to hide those sheets?”

Katara rolled her eyes at the admission. “You're a complete brat, Toph.”

“I'm hearing lots of talking and not enough exercising.”

Katara mumbled curses to herself as she went back to sweating out her escape plan.

“That's it, Katara, do your best or whatever, ” cheered Toph half-heartedly. “Hey, will it help if I pee on you?”

At that moment the door to the outside opened, showing Zuko and Sokka frozen on the threshold.

“Uhh. . .” said Zuko, to which neither Sokka nor Katara had anything to add.

“Hey!” shouted Toph, breaking the spell of awkward uncertainty everyone besides her was under. “Who do I have to pee on to get rescued here?” she demanded.

“Aang, Toph is asking for you,” said Sokka.

comments

I’m writing, I’m writing

Fri, 27 Jan 2012 05:48:24 GMT

Despite all appearances, I seriously am writing. Mica and claudiapriscus on AO3 kind of got me doing it all over again for He Said, She Said. Take a look:

“So what did you think of the play?” mumbled Toph around the stick of barbecued banana slices that was currently in her mouth.

“Two thumbs up,” said Zuko. “The director’s thumbs, I mean, since I’m going to cut them off and shove them up his ass.” He demonstrated his pique by kicking down a banner pole whose sign read The Life and Death of the Prince of Ill Luck.

Sokka snorted at Zuko’s answer. “Hello, jerkwad, did you not get the memo about not being a bad guy anymore?” Sokka kicked down another banner pole, not because he hated the play but because as a good boyfriend he felt obligated to act on Yue’s behalf when the play was a blatant plagiary of her novel. Also he liked kicking things.

Zuko punched a hole through a backdrop showing some icebergs floating on the sea. “Me, not a bad guy anymore?” he asked. “Says who? I never promised anything to anybody. Anyway, who says good guys can’t cut off the thumbs of people they don’t like? What, are the good guy police going to arrest me for that?”

“Uh, yes, and they’re actually just the regular police,” said Sokka as he tore apart a set of red Fire Sage robes.

“For the love of crap, can you two just make out already?” interrupted Toph. “I swear, you can cut the sexual tension with a knife.”

Sokka turned to Toph in annoyance. “You know, Toph, life isn’t one of the borderline gay romance stories you pay people to read to you. Just because two people argue with each other doesn’t mean they’re secretly in love. Almost one hundred percent of the time it means they genuinely disagree with each other.”

Toph was too busy enjoying her banana slices to give a properly derisive jeer to Sokka’s pronouncement and in fact all she could manage was a sarcastic roll of her eyes.

“Hey, what are you kids doing backstage!” demanded an angry bearded man who Zuko assumed was the stage manager or something. He didn’t bother to find out but instead smashed the chair he was holding over the man’s head instead of smashing it on some Ba Sing Se palace scenery like he originally intended. Taking the man’s intrusion as a cue, he sauntered casually out of the back door whose lock he had bashed open with a rock – this was only after listening to ten minutes of fumbling and cursing from Sokka before the other boy admitted that he couldn’t pick the lock (and only after Zuko had broken the lock did Toph reveal that she could have used her metalbending and saved everyone the trouble).

Much later, on their way out of town and back to their camp site Sokka observed, “You know, for a play that’s supposedly about the ‘Prince of Ill Luck’ the majority of the story revolved around the whole Katara forbidden love angle.”

“Yeah,” agreed Zuko as he walked along swinging a wooden sign that said Colonel Kinjo’s Travelling Players, “It’s like they wanted to make a stage adaptation of Thunderstorm but kept getting forced to make a straight propaganda piece instead.”

“What kind of propaganda piece makes you feel sorry for the bad guys?” asked Toph as she finished her snack and began cleaning her teeth with the barbecue stick she’d been eating from. “Zuko’s supposed to be the traitor but the play ends with Katara crying her eyes out and promising to avenge his death.”

“Good point, it gets kind of weird near the end, doesn’t it?” said Sokka. “But can we agree not to tell Aang that he spends the Battle of Ba Sing Se screaming and hiding under a blanket?”

“No, we can’t, because I’m going to tell him that as soon as we see him,” promised Toph. “I even memorized the lines his character was shouting at Azula: ‘Take Sokka, he’s stupid and ugly and no one likes him.’”

Sokka huffed in annoyance and stuck his hands in his pockets. He should have known Toph would remember that line. “You know, Toph, maybe we really should come clean to Katara about where we’re getting our money from,” he threatened.

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” said Toph as she threw her skewer at Sokka’s head.

“So you’re cheating at crooked dice games,” said Zuko. “You’re just doing the same to those gamblers that they were going to do to you. How can that be wrong?”

“Exactly,” said Sokka.

“For sure,” agreed Toph.

They were both glad that Zuko had been too distracted by seeing the advertisements for the play that he didn’t ask how they’d scored same day tickets for what was obviously an incredibly popular show. If he had known they’d scammed the tickets from some rich jerkoff then he would have probably thrown a hissy fit about them risking the mission or something.

Honestly, for a firebender Zuko could be a complete wet blanket. No wonder he and Katara got along so well. All Toph and Sokka did was trick money out of people who had too much of it. What could possibly go wrong with that?

comments

I am writing

Sun, 13 Nov 2011 19:42:45 GMT

Seriously, I’m writing. This excerpt is the opening of a project I’ve had on the backburner for over a year now, tentatively titled The Year of the Dragon:

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that we used to be at war with the Fire Nation. I can still remember running for my life as the last of their raids ravaged my clan one final time; I can still remember how I screamed and screamed when I discovered what they’d done to my mother. I can remember the look on my father’s face as he and the other warriors left to join the fighting and I can remember the long days of waiting that followed immediately after, days where every now and then my chest would clench and I would think, This, now, is the sign that my father is dead.

But days turned into weeks, then months, and then years, and every now and then I could swear I felt a premonition of my father’s death, but every time I’d shake it off as nothing but love and worry mixed together. Finally, a ship from our Northern cousins came, its passengers bringing strange stories of the Avatar returning and defeating the Fire Nation. Our enemy was beaten, they said, and now the war was over.

To think that the battle for the fate of the world had come and gone without my tribe even knowing. How strange to have your universe turned topsy-turvy and not know about it until weeks later. But that’s pretty much the story of my life.

Right now I’m working on the last part of He Said, She Said, though. It’s probably going to take me a while to finish, but I’m slowly chipping away at it.

comments

Back in Black

Tue, 11 Oct 2011 03:21:31 GMT

I want to start writing again. I’ve kind of been distracted with my new-ish job, but I still want to keep with the fiction, both fan and otherwise. And guess what? That’s just what I’m going to do.

Also, I hadn’t realized it, but my return to fiction writing apparently happened on July of last year. I’ve been back in fiction for over a year now! Well, technically I kind of dropped off with it for the last few months, but that was only a temporary situation.

Expect more anon, gentle readers. And no way am I taking another four year break like the last time.

comments

The Dog Who Was a Prince – Chapter 3

Sat, 25 Jun 2011 22:18:54 GMT

“Fuck.”

Wow, who was the potty mouth who was cursing so early in the morning? Katara lifted her head and looked around the room where she’d woken up. She was apparently lying in a hammock attached to the walls of a room made entirely out of metal. There were miscellaneous bags of something lying on the floor (dimly, Katara remembered that the floor on a ship was called the deck). Some of those bags looked familiar, and it took Katara a moment to realize that they belonged to her and Sokka. Was Sokka here too?

Oh, there he was sleeping in the hammock on the other side of the room. From the loud snores he was emitting, he hadn’t been the one who had greeted the new day with a hearty f-word. “Fuck me.” See, there it was again. It was coming from someplace really close by, too. So close that she could have sworn it was coming from her own mouth. “Merciful spirits, please fuck me dead.” Oh wait, it was coming from her own mouth.

( Read more... )

comments

How now, brown cow?

Tue, 21 Jun 2011 15:58:41 GMT

I thought that finishing off He Said, She Said would be fairly straightforward but I seem to have come up against a wall. The last two chapters have been going through the Stations of the Canon, as it were, by following the progression of the episodes of Books One and Two. However, Part 2 ended in a way that blasted that sequence apart, meaning that there is no way Part 3 will resemble Book Three in any realistic fashion. I could still force the story to follow Book Three but doing so would lessen the narrative as a whole since the plot would not flow naturally in that direction. Which means that I have to write more original stuff for the story.

Of course, I’m not averse to originality, but the bigger problem is that the ending of Part Two necessitates a change in tone from comedy to drama, at least in the beginning. However, drama is harder for me to write than comedy and thus it will take me much longer to finish the fic. Getting the whole thing back on track to a ridiculous adventure would mean slightly more work as well.

Really, there’s nothing for it but to do it. I find that when I’m stuck on a story that the simple act of writing gets the creative juices flowing and ideas start popping into my head.

Anyway, I have a hankering to add the next part of The Dog who was a Prince, which should probably help with my other projects. Immersing myself in Avatar fics should also help.

So there you go, folks, you heard it here first: A new chapter from moi will appear on the Etherweb soon-ish.

comments

He Said, She Said - Part 2

Sun, 17 Apr 2011 22:37:09 GMT

This chapter was actually ninety percent finished by the end of February, the only thing left was the big showdown at the end. But then I got a new job and that kind of slowed down my writing by a fair bit. It’s another long one, but guess what – the fic is 66% finished. Only Book 3 is left, the epilogue is actually already done. How about that, huh? I’m looking forward to actually finishing a multi-chapter fic.

“Princess Azula, I think you’ll be interested in this message,” said the governor of Omashu. Azula took the scroll from him and quickly scanned through it, then slowed down to read the message again more thoroughly when she realized what it was saying. “Well, girls,” she said to her friends, “it seems my brother has finally shown his true colours.”

“What do you mean, Azula?” asked Ty Lee. Behind her, the governor had silently retreated out of the room. Azula’s only answer was to turn the scroll around so that Mai and Ty Lee could read it. The tassel was in the gold and red pattern that meant an official message involving a royal wedding. Had the Earth King finally gotten engaged? Then Mai and Ty Lee took a closer look.

“Zuko’s engaged to Katara, ‘Master Waterbender and daughter of Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe’?” quoted Mai.

( Read more... )

comments

Wherefore art thou

Wed, 23 Mar 2011 02:36:09 GMT

Fun Elizabethan fact: “wherefore” means “why”. So when Juliet asks, “wherefore art thou Romeo?” she means “Romeo, why are you Romeo?” To explain more clearly, Juliet is asking why her beloved is Romeo, i.e., a member of her family’s sworn enemies. It’s obviously a rhetorical question, since it’s not a question anyone can answer. “Wherefore” thus does not mean “where”, and it is incorrect for someone to use it in that manner. This piece of trivia about Early Modern English is brought to you by my sense of responsibility about not updating in too long.

There’s an explanation behind my absence. To sum up my situation succinctly: I have a new job, it’s got crazy hours, but the pay is pretty damn good. I barely have time for anything else now, though, and my scarce downtime is mostly taken up by decompressing. I’ll still be keeping my hand in, but I won’t be as visible online as I used to be.

That is all. Carry on with your normal routine.

comments

Brotherly Advice

Mon, 28 Feb 2011 20:39:40 GMT

I’ve never done a drabble and yet here’s one now. I was going to put this scene into He Said, She Said, but it didn't work for the story. I thought I might squirrel it away instead and insert it into an appropriate story later since none of my fics are right for it, but that might never happen. I might still find a good spot for it, but for now, here it is as a standalone.

####

“Zuko?” asked Aang, his voice quavering slightly in nervousness.

“Yeah, Aang, what is it?” answered Zuko as he sharpened his swords.

“Umm, how do you ask a girl out?”

Zuko was so startled by the question that he almost cut off his own thumb. ( Read more... )

comments

Putting the cart before the horse

Mon, 28 Feb 2011 06:20:03 GMT

Well, I just finished writing the epilogue to He Said, She Said. This, despite the fact that I still haven't written the middle or the end of the story. Hey, I normally write sequentially, but not always. When your muse is upon you, you've got to just go with the flow.

comments

Ghosts of the past

Sun, 27 Feb 2011 22:30:39 GMT

I write like
Rudyard Kipling

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

I ran some of my writing through an online analyzer and it gave me this result. I guess Kipling isn’t so bad, but I haven’t read him in years and I was never super into him, so he probably didn’t influence me that way. Then I ran another sample through the analyzer and got this:

I write like
H. P. Lovecraft

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Oh come on, I’ve never even read Lovecraft! Be more consistent, literature robot! I was actually afraid I wrote like Isaac Asimov, I read most of Foundation when I was 10 and I think I absorbed Asimov’s sparing descriptions. Strangely enough, the Lovecraft sample was from a non-fiction essay. I guess Lovecraft’s writing sounds like dry academic text.

comments

Bending and Chinese cosmology

Sun, 27 Feb 2011 21:17:13 GMT

According to Chinese cosmology, there are actually five elements, though they are apparently more of a mnemonic device and are more properly referred to as the five phases or the five movements. Anyway, the five elements are:

Fire (Chinese: 火, pinyin: huǒ)
Earth (Chinese: 土, pinyin: tǔ)
Metal (Chinese: 金, pinyin: jīn)
Water (Chinese: 水, pinyin: shuǐ)
Wood (Chinese: 木, pinyin: mù)

The number five figures into a lot of Chinese cosmology – the Five Cardinal Points (centre is included) for example, or the Five Relationships of Confucianism.

I thought of applying the Five Relations to Avatar’s bending philosophies. To wit:

Air - Friend to friend. Air is the bender's friend, it delights in helping its dear comrade.
Water - Parent and child. The bender's power flows from Tui and La, who bestow their power as a parent bestows gifts upon a child.
Earth - Elder brother to Younger brother. The bender is the younger brother who can only gain concessions from the elder brother of earth through standing up to him.
Fire - Ruler and ruled. Fire is the servant of the bender, to be ordered around and dominated.
Which leaves the fifth relation of husband and wife to be carefully ignored.

I’m still not certain if the one for Earth is entirely right. Perhaps the bender should be the Elder Brother, or perhaps husband and wife to Earth? I do like how appropriate the rest of it is.

I just can’t figure out how to put this into a fic. It should probably be a serious one. Maybe for The Quest I can have Katara encounter these philosophies while she travels through the Four Nations. It sure wouldn’t be appropriate for the two jokefics I’m writing.

comments

He Said, She Said – Part 1

Sat, 26 Feb 2011 17:33:15 GMT

What would have happened if Aang hadn't recovered Katara's necklace?

“Katara’s necklace!” cried Aang. “Give that back!”

“Come and take it!” shouted Zuko as he kicked a blanket of flame toward the Avatar. The younger boy dodged nimbly out of the way, but the prince pressed his attack and released more blasts, all of which missed.

While the two boys fought – or rather, while Zuko chased Aang, who kept hopping around and staying out of the Firebender’s reach – Katara and Sokka fought Zuko’s bounty hunter, June, and her monstrous shirshu. For some reason the old Firebender who always accompanied Zuko did nothing but watch the fight. Perhaps he was too old to fight, or perhaps he was waiting for an opportune moment to join in. Whatever the case, Katara didn’t have the time to ponder the situation. June and her pet were already hard enough to fight on their own. Please don’t let the old man join the fight, thought Katara before she refocused herself on the battle at hand.

Luckily, Sokka was quite good at thinking on his feet and had quickly grasped the potential of the jars of perfume that the nuns had stored in the courtyard. “Katara, splash this stuff on that giant sniffer animal thing!” said Sokka as he tipped over the jars. Without hesitation, Katara grabbed the perfume and waterbent it at the shirshu. The smell overpowered the creature, causing it to lash out wildly at its surroundings. June was quickly paralyzed by her own shirshu’s poison tongue while a surprised Zuko suddenly found himself unable to move after the shirshu tagged him on the way into running into a wall and knocking itself out.

“Prince Zuko!” shouted Iroh in concern. “Are you all right?”

( Read more... )

comments

Notes toward a proposed fic, The Quest

Fri, 18 Feb 2011 07:19:10 GMT

This post is about the Avatar fanfic I am writing, tentatively titled The Quest. It’s shaping up to be my magnum opus, to be honest. I’ve been kicking it around for months and the amount of research I’ve done for it is far beyond what I’ve done for any other fic. I’ve been reading up about Chinese kinship systems, obscure martial arts, and attitudes on the Mandate of Heaven. To be fair, though, I wasn’t reading those things specifically for the fic but I did note interesting stuff down.

Anyway, The Quest is set three years after the war in a world where Aang’s iceberg was found by Suki at Kyoshi Island (it drifted north). Yeah, it’s majorly alternate universe. I was kind of worried that all of my stories would be retreads of the canon series with one or two points of departure, but this one is way different.

( Read more... )

comments

The Traitor - Chapter 2

Sat, 12 Feb 2011 05:30:40 GMT

Interlude - Two Years Earlier (Six Months After Zuko’s Banishment)

The Fire Nation messenger walked unknowingly beneath Zuko’s hiding place in the branches of the tree. The man tramped noisily through a pile of dead leaves before catching himself and trying to move more quietly. It really was too easy. What kind of soldier was so inattentive in the midst of potentially hostile territory? And what commander would use someone so inexperienced as a messenger? The man was so clumsy in the forest that it was quite possible he’d slip and break his neck before ever delivering his message. Well, Zuko certainly wasn’t complaining. The spirits grant that all of his enemies were so stupid – fighting fair was for suckers.

( Read more... )

comments

Appallingly bad story ideas

Tue, 08 Feb 2011 06:03:09 GMT

I have great ideas. I think I do, anyway, but I’ve never gotten around to actually putting those ideas into action. For many years, I’ve had various ideas for original stories fermenting in the back of my head, and I’ve even got a few notes I’ve written out here and there. However, I’ve never actually tried to write those stories down.

Until now. Seriously, I thought to myself, why the hell shouldn’t I try to write these stories? Why shouldn’t I try to publish these stories? There’s a lot of unreadable crap out there that somehow got published, so at worst I’ll just be adding another drop of literary horridness into the ocean of mediocrity that surrounds the rare islands of genius which make reading such a pleasure. And I might get paid for doing so!

And, you know, I’m already writing fanfiction anyway.

As part of my quest for joining the creative industry, I’ve started looking at venues for short story publishing. Specifically, I was looking at the submission guidelines for the Strange Horizons sci fi magazine when I came across their list of Stories We’ve Seen Too Often. All of these story types sound incredibly bad, but the situation turns from amusing into horrifying when you remember that all of these stories keep getting submitted.

Still, while some of these stories are simply uncreative (honestly, a story about a writer having difficulty writing?) while others are merely clichéd, some stories are actively detestable, particularly the ones that are heavily misogynist in plot. If you can get past that, though, then it can be kind of fun to spend some time being reminded that there are worse writers out there than you. Some favourites:

A "surprise" twist ending occurs. (Note that we do like endings that we didn't expect, as long as they derive naturally from character action. But note, too, that we've seen a lot of twist endings, and we find most of them to be pretty predictable, even the ones not on this list.)

The characters' actions are described in a way meant to fool the reader into thinking they're humans, but in the end it turns out they're not humans, as would have been obvious to anyone looking at them.

Creatures are described as "vermin" or "pests" or "monsters," but in the end it turns out they're humans.

The author conceals some essential piece of information from the reader that would be obvious if the reader were present at the scene, and then suddenly reveals that information at the end of the story. (This can be done well, but rarely is.)

Person is floating in a formless void; in the end, they're born . . .

Story is based in whole or part on a D&D game or world.

A party of D&D characters (usually including a fighter, a magic-user, and a thief, one of whom is a half-elf and one a dwarf) enters a dungeon (or the wilderness, or a town, or a tavern) and fights monsters (usually including orcs).

Story is the origin story of a D&D character, culminating in their hooking up with a party of adventurers.

A group of real-world humans who like roleplaying find themselves transported to D&D world . . .

Strange and mysterious things keep happening. And keep happening. And keep happening. For over half the story. Relentlessly. Without even a hint of explanation . . .

Evil people hook the protagonist on an addictive substance and then start raising the price, ruining the protagonist's life . . .

Twee little fairies with wings fly around being twee.

Man, suddenly I feel like ten times more confident in my writing abilities. Thanks, Strange Horizons!

Oh, and don’t you fret, I’m still working on my fanfics.

comments

Still here

Sun, 30 Jan 2011 07:30:22 GMT

I know I’ve been incommunicado lately, plus it’s been a while since I’ve updated any of my fics or put out a new one. I’ve actually been working on some original writing. None of the original stuff is new and I’ve been playing with ideas for these works for years, so it’s not like I’ve suddenly dumped fanfics for original fiction. I’m still keeping up on reading fics, though, and I still occasionally work on my fanfics now and then, so no need to worry about my abandoning any of my stories. Heck, I’ve even dipped my toe into some new fandoms. Hang in there, more will come from me sometime between now and the end of the world.

comments

The end of my Ranma fic

Sun, 09 Jan 2011 07:18:26 GMT

What follows is the ending I currently have in mind for Ranma Saotome’s Guide to Dating. It’s possible I’ll change it when the time comes to write the final scene, but for now this is what I’ve got. Enjoy!

( Read more... )

comments

The Writer’s Technique in Thirteen Theses

Mon, 03 Jan 2011 21:54:19 GMT

by Walter Benjamin

I. Anyone intending to embark on a major work should be lenient with himself and, having completed a stint, deny himself nothing that will not prejudice the next.

II. Talk about what you have written, by all means, but do not read from it while the work is in progress. Every gratification procured in this way will slacken your tempo. If this regime is followed, the growing desire to communicate will become in the end a motor for completion.

III. In your working conditions avoid everyday mediocrity. Semi-relaxation, to a background of insipid sounds, is degrading. On the other hand, accompaniment by an etude or a cacophony of voices can become as significant for work as the perceptible silence of the night. If the latter sharpens the inner ear, the former acts as a touchstone for a diction ample enough to bury even the most wayward sounds.

IV. Avoid haphazard writing materials. A pedantic adherence to certain papers, pens, inks is beneficial. No luxury, but an abundance of these utensils is indispensable.

V. Let no thought pass incognito, and keep your notebook as strictly as the authorities keep their register of aliens.

VI. Keep your pen aloof from inspiration, which it will then attract with magnetic power. The more circumspectly you delay writing down an idea, the more maturely developed it will be on surrendering itself. Speech conquers thought, but writing commands it.

VII. Never stop writing because you have run out of ideas. Literary honour requires that one break off only at an appointed moment (a mealtime, a meeting) or at the end of the work.

VIII. Fill the lacunae of inspiration by tidily copying out what is already written. Intuition will awaken in the process.

IX. Nulla dies sine linea * — but there may well be weeks.

X. Consider no work perfect over which you have not once sat from evening to broad daylight.

XI. Do not write the conclusion of a work in your familiar study. You would not find the necessary courage there.

XII. Stages of composition: idea — style — writing. The value of the fair copy is that in producing it you confine attention to calligraphy. The idea kills inspiration, style fetters the idea, writing pays off style.

XIII. The work is the death mask of its conception.

* “Not a day without a line,” i.e., writing a line — variously attributed to Horace, Cicero, Pliny, and a mess of other dead guidos.

comments

Four things to avoid when writing

Sun, 02 Jan 2011 05:55:42 GMT

From io9’s 4 Danger Signs to Search For, Before Sending Off Your First Novel:

Adverbs, overuse of
Sentences beginning with “it”
“There was”, or “there were”
“Was being”, or “were being”

Damn, now I’m becoming self-conscious. I don’t tend to revise my fanfic too much, mainly because when I finish one all I want is to get it out there as fast as possible. What usually happens is I revise when I start writing the next chapter. My stories are all works in progress (except for my single one-shot, of course). I have no qualms against drastically changing something that I’ve already put up and in fact have already done so with Ranma Saotome’s Guide to Dating.

But after reading the above article, now I’m tempted to look over what I’ve already written. I don’t think I overuse adverbs, I prefer to use simile and metaphor to describe stuff that’s happening. However, I might enter into the passive voice too often for fiction. Blame my graduate school detour into anthropology – sometimes the passive voice is necessary for that style of writing.

It’s too bad I’m so much better at writing essays, I could crap out a decent one almost without effort, but I often struggle with fiction. Writing posts for my blog is really quite easy for me. I suppose I simply have more experience with essays.

The only thing to do, then, is to practice. I need to write, and write, and write, and I also need to revise, revise, and revise. But I’ll have to remember this list when I’m doing my thing.

comments

Doppelgangered

Sat, 25 Dec 2010 20:01:36 GMT

I’m currently having a marathon of Legend of the Legendary Heroes while roasting a pork shoulder in the oven (and yes, the title of the anime sounds dumb). In the course of my viewing I spied a certain Miran Froaude:

Who bears an uncanny resemblance to Mai from Avatar: The Last Airbender:

Two differences:

Miran doesn’t have the odango pigtail buns hairstyle and,
Has a penis.

I’m just guessing on the last part, it’s not like ze whips out the block and tackle for the audience to have a gander. But damn, “Miran Froaude”? The name sounds stupid, just like a lot of made-up Japanese names from sci-fi and fantasy. Then again, I’ve come up against some pretty dumb names in English fiction as well.

Mirrored from Sarapen.

comments