Monthly Archives: September 2014

NaNoWriMo 2014

Fall has come, and all over America, you can smell “Pumpkin Spice”.

Especially in many lattes.  My nose, it is assaulted!

Anyway, I come to you, this twenty-third of September with the following words:

I stopped writing here.  You likely already knew this.  One thing I’ve learned from doing this insane writing thing last year: don’t burn out.  I was starting to feel it when I stopped, and so I decided to just let it go for now.  Instead of panicking and trying to push myself so close to November, I will concentrate on enjoying stories, letting myself choose one to tell, and learning new ways to write.

So, yet again, my beloved blog will gather cobwebs for a little while, but not to fear!  I’ll be back when next I need it.  Take care, and fantasize on! Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on September 23, 2014 in Announcements


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Two false starts…

Two false starts today, and I can’t get past the intro.  I’ll keep trying after I get some rest.  Taking care of my dad post-surgery is exhausting.

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Posted by on September 9, 2014 in Announcements


Vincent Vance and the Rusted Factory

Vinnie yawned as he rolled over in his sleeping bag.  The light from the window was a square of brightness directly on his face.  He tried to roll the other way, and it didn’t leave.  Further, he rolled, and gravity took hold.  He landed with a thud and squawk, and finally sat up.

He began to run a thin hand through messy blond hair, but stopped midway and blinked before he withdrew his head.  Bleary eyes looked around, barely seeing as he struggled out of bedding he didn’t remember climbing into.

The boy dressed quickly in his usual grungy, oversized clothes, then pulled on his labcoat and goggles.  He grabbed his cell and stared at the painfully bright screen a few minutes.  Saturday.  Butthole of the morning.  He looked at the window and narrowed his eyes at the offending morning light, offended that it filtered right between the iron bars of the old factory office.  With practiced ease, he balled up his sleeping bag and tossed it onto the desk, then walked out of the room. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on September 6, 2014 in Futuristic Fiction


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Back Home

Just got back home, all.  I just can’t concentrate right now.  Story time tomorrow.

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Posted by on September 6, 2014 in Announcements



A Brief Story of Biocybera

Before anyone heard anything about demihumans, a young girl wandered the streets of 2005 Detroit. She looked barely twelve, with long, uncut brown hair that was a mass of tangles. Her eyes were also brown, and so were most of her clothes– from the vest that hung off one shoulder and hid nothing of her ribs, to the tied curtain around her waist. Her feet were bare and dirty, and her clothes, if they could be called that, were badly stained.

She glared at the world as she walked further and further from the residential or commercial areas– the places more safe this area full of warehouses and the stink of industrial decay. Unused factories sat rusting, unused since the economic crash sent Michigan into a downward spiral of lost jobs and evacuation. People left the state to get jobs in the automotive industry, and to get jobs in any industry.

Only the uninteresting cereal companies seemed untouched; nobody heard about cereal layoffs. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on September 4, 2014 in Modern Fiction


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Steam-Powered Pencils

Music?  Check.  Pencil and paper?  Check.  Laptop?  Check.

Distractions?  Also check.

The woman, dark-skinned with crooked teeth spoke in a dimly-lit room.  Her skin was coated in orange powder foundation that made her look like a fucked-up pumpkin, and her husband looked like a neanderthal.  For every tooth, there was a gap beside it the same width, and each eye pointed in a different direction.  The pair took turns describing a big black figure that was half-there, threatening them.
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Posted by on September 3, 2014 in Modern Fiction


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Grandfathers and Granddaughters

Continued from Rumormill.

The princess glared at her brother as he approached the throne.  The young man paused, then fell to one knee, his head bowed. “Your Highness the Princess-Regent, I bring words from His Majesty, the Emperor.”

“Speak.” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “Tell me what words my Grandfather and Liege has sent.”

“He says, and I paraphrase, that he wishes to see you regarding the matter of two missing friends of his.” Before he was given leave, the prince rose and turned on his heel. “I will inform him you have heard his words.”

The princess’s face reddened as her glare intensified. “Since my grandfather has called on me, I must set aside audiences and see to him.” She rose. “If it is important, address it with High Priest Nikho.” She walked swiftly after him, eyes boring into the back of his wavy-haired head.  As she passed him in the doorway, he gripped his temple briefly, and she forcibly ignored his glance in her direction. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on September 2, 2014 in Semihistorical Fiction


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