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Thread: A story I wrote for my creative writing class

  1. #16
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    Sorry...interesting this thread popped up this week. I hadn't written anything creatively for months, and then wrote this Friday night. Not sure where I'm going with it, but I wrote it after remembering seeing some high-school aged kids hanging out on a rock on a float trip two summers ago.

    “Yeah, but what’s going to become of us, Dave? Are we even going to remember all this?”

    “Oh, **** that. We’re not going to spend this summer talking about dumb shit like that.”

    But we were. It was halfway through our final summer together, at least in that serene childhood setting where no one had serious jobs and we all still thought we were running from authority. We’d spent the half of it wondering what was next, even though most of us knew.

    But Dave didn’t. That was the irony. He was the one whose future was just unknown.

    Cal was going to college. Eventually, he would turn a pre-law degree from the U into being a high-priced corporate lawyer in Chicago. Two-point-five kids, white-picket fence in the ‘burbs. It was a predetermined future. Hell, it might have been the past before it was the future.

    “That makes no ******* sense,” Cal said.

    “What makes no ******* sense?” Dave was mocking him.

    “Well, we’ve spent half the summer staring at these falls hoping some hot chick would come by that we somehow didn’t ******* know, and talking about the end of August. And it’s near the ******* end of July.”

    “Jeez. You make it sound so dire.”

    Dave was always the one who “didn’t give a ****,” but we all knew he did. Or thought we knew he did. His mother died when he was a kid. Some bad accident before he moved to town – he didn’t talk about it much. His father was an alcoholic, who waltzed into town about once every six months proclaiming his sobriety to everyone and always talking about some new job he had in Omaha.

    When Dave was younger he always tried to sneak Dave away and take him back to Omaha. The few times he actually got out of town, he’d show back up in town a few hours later, most times with a police escort.

    It was like one of those ******* Academy Award winning movies that everyone goes to and cries about and hyperbolically praises the new childhood star who plays the kid and the old, downtrodden actor who revitalized his career by playing the drunk dad.

    But it was Dave’s life. Yet Dave somehow always rose above it all. Had better grades. Won the ******* sports trophy. Except for the run ins with the law. That must have just run in the family.

    But when it came to college, Dave turned down all the scholarships.

    I’m not college material, he would always tell us. We knew it was a lie. He was the best and the brightest. Never could figure him out.
    “**** this. Let’s go.”

    “Where we going Dave?” I asked, lifting my head up off the rock.

    “****’d if I know. Not here.”
    *The statements above are my opinions, unless they are links, because then they are links, which wouldn't make them my opinions, and I suppose stats aren't necessarily opinion, but they are certainly presented to support an opinion. Proceed accordingly.

    Quote Originally Posted by Buff View Post
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  3. #17
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    I'm still fiddling with this story. The hardest thing is the treatment of this being that exists beyond human ken.
    Quote Originally Posted by Sting
    "You know cos I just lost my parents--both my parents died in the same year...to this day, people come up to me and say 'my dad died and that album really meant a lot to me,' which is very nourishing {pats heart} for a songwriter to hear that your songs have a utility beyond just their own solace, that it actually helps other people."

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    Quote Originally Posted by MOtorboat View Post
    Sorry...interesting this thread popped up this week. I hadn't written anything creatively for months, and then wrote this Friday night. Not sure where I'm going with it, but I wrote it after remembering seeing some high-school aged kids hanging out on a rock on a float trip two summers ago.
    You wrote that? Wow. You are gifted dude.
    Quote Originally Posted by Sting
    "You know cos I just lost my parents--both my parents died in the same year...to this day, people come up to me and say 'my dad died and that album really meant a lot to me,' which is very nourishing {pats heart} for a songwriter to hear that your songs have a utility beyond just their own solace, that it actually helps other people."

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    I am musing tonight on the possibility of a novel or similar long form of fiction.

    My problem is that I obsess on the big ideas instead of interesting stories. The passion I want to share is my own relationship to existence, but this is hard in practice. HP Lovecraft did a passable job of it.

    Here are some notes from my brainstorming tonight.

    Different levels of rationality.
    Different axiomatic systems. Different logic forms. Godel.
    Spectra. Unlimited spectra. What is a spectra.
    Creation. Creating new spectra.
    Time, the nowness, tracking identity
    Memory as identity and meaning
    Something beyond void and form.
    Anxiety because aware and this is first precept of existence, the axiom
    A nothingness so profound and powerful. Like the assertive force that insists on mindlessness when breath counting, but its boss's boss. A black hole with a gravity pull of consciousness beyond anything, no entity-ness allowed. But then the thing that insists on that rule.
    But what of the space between matter, isn't this just nothingness?
    Could it be that a true nothingness is the dimensional structure itself, the scaffolding that is itself barren of shape and form. That is, the mere existence of three dimensions, no matter or mass or energy implied, nothing to be contained, but just the dimensionality. Isn't this the most empty of things? Without that spatial framework, existence is a closed warmness. It is the creation of possibility and location that invites the loneliness of void.
    So what are the next set of locational (location as metaphor) dimensions?
    What about an endless set of dimensions that resulted in beings that never died and would likely never encounter other beings? In time space and so on. In dimensions unknown.
    There are beings that do not die. They are apart from our three dimensional space and apart from time.
    The rules, laws of existence...in our case physical laws. A reality where they are laws only because it's one possibility of laws and nothing has shifted to require other laws.
    Quote Originally Posted by Sting
    "You know cos I just lost my parents--both my parents died in the same year...to this day, people come up to me and say 'my dad died and that album really meant a lot to me,' which is very nourishing {pats heart} for a songwriter to hear that your songs have a utility beyond just their own solace, that it actually helps other people."

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  7. #20

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    Hawg, I have a book I'm writing for funsies. Our dialogue is kind of similar.
    Quote Originally Posted by Jaded View Post
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  8. #21
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    Quote Originally Posted by Hawgdriver View Post
    I am musing tonight on the possibility of a novel or similar long form of fiction.

    My problem is that I obsess on the big ideas instead of interesting stories. The passion I want to share is my own relationship to existence, but this is hard in practice. HP Lovecraft did a passable job of it.

    Here are some notes from my brainstorming tonight.

    Different levels of rationality.
    Different axiomatic systems. Different logic forms. Godel.
    Spectra. Unlimited spectra. What is a spectra.
    Creation. Creating new spectra.
    Time, the nowness, tracking identity
    Memory as identity and meaning
    Something beyond void and form.
    Anxiety because aware and this is first precept of existence, the axiom
    A nothingness so profound and powerful. Like the assertive force that insists on mindlessness when breath counting, but its boss's boss. A black hole with a gravity pull of consciousness beyond anything, no entity-ness allowed. But then the thing that insists on that rule.
    But what of the space between matter, isn't this just nothingness?
    Could it be that a true nothingness is the dimensional structure itself, the scaffolding that is itself barren of shape and form. That is, the mere existence of three dimensions, no matter or mass or energy implied, nothing to be contained, but just the dimensionality. Isn't this the most empty of things? Without that spatial framework, existence is a closed warmness. It is the creation of possibility and location that invites the loneliness of void.
    So what are the next set of locational (location as metaphor) dimensions?
    What about an endless set of dimensions that resulted in beings that never died and would likely never encounter other beings? In time space and so on. In dimensions unknown.
    There are beings that do not die. They are apart from our three dimensional space and apart from time.
    The rules, laws of existence...in our case physical laws. A reality where they are laws only because it's one possibility of laws and nothing has shifted to require other laws.
    Was there any psilocybin involved here? Some pretty existential stuff goin on. I like it.

    Regarding your challenge of distilling big ideas down to interesting stories... Maybe try a bottom-up brainstorm to complement this top-down version. Write bits of dialogue, or short 1-2 page "stories/scenes" that get at any of these principles, no matter how disconnected they are. One Tim Ferris principle that's always resonated for me is that if you write 30 pages of nonsense and 1 page of it has legs - that's exactly what you needed to get to that page.

    I also listened to the latest BS pod with Matt Stone and Trey Parker and they said that most of their writing comes out of a single ridiculous concept - they write a one minute scene (usually 2 pages) and then go from there not knowing if it's the beginning, middle, end, etc.

    Your top down exercise gives you a good menu of topics to start from.

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  10. #22
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    Anyone written anything lately?

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    No, but I have a great idea for a novel.

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    Quote Originally Posted by BeefStew25 View Post
    No, but I have a great idea for a novel.
    Spill it.
    Quote Originally Posted by Sting
    "You know cos I just lost my parents--both my parents died in the same year...to this day, people come up to me and say 'my dad died and that album really meant a lot to me,' which is very nourishing {pats heart} for a songwriter to hear that your songs have a utility beyond just their own solace, that it actually helps other people."

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    Quote Originally Posted by Hawgdriver View Post
    Spill it.
    I don’t want to get vulnerable here. Do you text?

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    I wrote a good short story in high school.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Hawgdriver View Post
    I am musing tonight on the possibility of a novel or similar long form of fiction.

    My problem is that I obsess on the big ideas instead of interesting stories. The passion I want to share is my own relationship to existence, but this is hard in practice. HP Lovecraft did a passable job of it.

    Here are some notes from my brainstorming tonight.

    Different levels of rationality.
    Different axiomatic systems. Different logic forms. Godel.
    Spectra. Unlimited spectra. What is a spectra.
    Creation. Creating new spectra.
    Time, the nowness, tracking identity
    Memory as identity and meaning
    Something beyond void and form.
    Anxiety because aware and this is first precept of existence, the axiom
    A nothingness so profound and powerful. Like the assertive force that insists on mindlessness when breath counting, but its boss's boss. A black hole with a gravity pull of consciousness beyond anything, no entity-ness allowed. But then the thing that insists on that rule.
    But what of the space between matter, isn't this just nothingness?
    Could it be that a true nothingness is the dimensional structure itself, the scaffolding that is itself barren of shape and form. That is, the mere existence of three dimensions, no matter or mass or energy implied, nothing to be contained, but just the dimensionality. Isn't this the most empty of things? Without that spatial framework, existence is a closed warmness. It is the creation of possibility and location that invites the loneliness of void.
    So what are the next set of locational (location as metaphor) dimensions?
    What about an endless set of dimensions that resulted in beings that never died and would likely never encounter other beings? In time space and so on. In dimensions unknown.
    There are beings that do not die. They are apart from our three dimensional space and apart from time.
    The rules, laws of existence...in our case physical laws. A reality where they are laws only because it's one possibility of laws and nothing has shifted to require other laws.
    It's come together and now I'm writing a novel. Genre is horror but it's more of a 'this could really happen' type approach to it. Near future science fiction in recognizable US that turns into an apocalyptic dystopia with survival/adventure/wilderness sprinkled with massive armed conflict, AI stuff, eh...there are going to be some cool things. What I'm most stoked about is the central mechanic of the main antagonist that will certainly land the book squarely in the horror genre gives me a lot of play to be...well...novel. I just have to make sure it's the mindbending, surreal-but-vivid type of novelty and not the 'w t _?' type.

    The only depressing thing is that even though this is something I feel I must do, the ROI per hour is awful--even if I manage to publish and sell and find moderate success. Really, I got to this point because I just can't find the type of story that I want to read, so maybe I'm supposed to write it.

    At some point I need to hit up G and glean his wisdom, and I think Davii mentioned his wife penned at least one book. I'm all ears for advice and dire warnings. Fortunately for me, a friend is an author and owner of a regional bookseller, so he'll be a great resource.

    Now I just have to finish writing the damned thing, instead of talking about it like this.
    Quote Originally Posted by Sting
    "You know cos I just lost my parents--both my parents died in the same year...to this day, people come up to me and say 'my dad died and that album really meant a lot to me,' which is very nourishing {pats heart} for a songwriter to hear that your songs have a utility beyond just their own solace, that it actually helps other people."

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  17. #28
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    Hey, so, if anyone can help, let me know what you think about this character introduction in terms of general ability and whether you would enjoy this kind of writing. It's about 40 pages or so in, and the initial mishap and fallout are becoming more evident.

     
    Ryan Ward watched on horseback as the dawn colors claimed the sky. The sun was not yet risen and a chill pervaded all. Below the squat mesa on which Ryan’s horse stood, the West Texas scrubland was a dark watercolor of umber and viridian that would become sienna and olive when the arid plains were fully undressed in day’s light. A pickup truck a mile off, travelling parallel to the horizon, spit a dust plume from its wheels as it drove north on the county road. The truck drove out of Ryan’s sight but the dust remained, hovering.

    A few hours earlier, Ryan awoke to an alarm he had set to trigger in response to any sudden and massive global market fluctuation. This alarm wasn’t meant to warn him of danger to his assets, he no longer played that game, it was meant to warn him of a danger more serious: possible financial system collapse.

    He saw that the electricity was off for virtually all of the United States except Texas. That Texas was unaffected, Ryan thought, would make these Texans even more insufferable about their state pride. Well, looks like they got this one right, so can’t blame them. He had saddled his favorite horse, Ukase, and came out here to think.

    The exchange rate of the euro and the dollar was the particular marker that triggered Ryan’s alarm. Others soon followed. Ryan’s first task was to figure out if this was a normal market reaction to the obvious financial damage that would arise from a nation without electricity or if it was being amplified by concerted action to unseat the US dollar as the world’s reserve currency. What he discovered convinced him it was.

    Worse, there were widespread reports of irrational behavior that went well beyond what would be expected during a financial crisis: scores of murders, assaults, and even unprompted proclamations by high-ranking national officials that steered their country toward armed conflict. In most cases, the report would mention an individual acted psychotic or delusional. Ryan saw the same fingerprint over and over, reports of the culprit ‘seeing things’ or ‘talking to an imaginary person’.

    Well, shit, something serious is going down.

    Ryan had spent years as a trader in the hedge fund industry before he had made his nut and decided to unplug. If money was the world’s blood, he had been working close to the heart. Coding high-frequency trading algorithms, implementing cryptocurrencies as self-executing hedges, working currency and commodity desks, creating banking system models that simulated financial disaster within the Basel III framework, mapping dark wealth ecosystems, all these and more had been Ryan’s expertise during his time as a hired gun for some of the world’s elite money managers.

    Ryan had come to appreciate the benefits of this financial vascular system while coming to understand the real danger of something throwing a clot and bringing it all down. At first, to Ryan, it seemed like a system that used a dollar to create a hundred dollars of economic activity was dangerously unstable. In time, Ryan accepted the trust and industry the system afforded, even if he begrudged his own lack of personal control regarding the process. He may not directly receive the dividends of owning the plumbing to the world’s de-facto monetary system, but without that system, he would not have made as much money as he did.

    But not everyone was agreeable to extending this circulatory system to the farthest reaches of modern civilization, and that was why he unplugged and prepared for the worst. After leaving the game five years ago, Ryan had become ‘one of those guys’: a survivalist. A prepper.

    He found some nice acreage between Abilene and San Angelo and built a house. He dabbled in horses. He became a gun enthusiast. He learned how to gut a chicken. He applied his formidable computer programming acumen to hacking. He bought an airplane. He bought some other land that no one knew about in case he had to bug out.

    So after the massive drop in value of the dollar against the euro, Ryan tested several hypotheses and found evidence that this catastrophe was being used as a catalyst for a coup on the western financial system’s hegemony. Whether or not the blackout was engineered or coincidental, a host of precise actions were being taken to amplify its financial effect. Like a laser-guided airstrike aimed at a particular window of a building, the moves being made carried an embedded signal that the ones making the moves did so with intent and knowledge of the target.

    The clot in the system was dislodged, and soon it would find a coronary artery.

    Ryan had come out into the brisk pre-dawn atop Ukase to clear his mind and think. Now he had thought it through and concluded: this probably means war.

    A pinpoint blaze of sun appeared on the horizon, an odd lighthouse on the wastelands. Ryan steered Ukase gently down the slope toward his shelter in advance of the gathering heat.
    Quote Originally Posted by Sting
    "You know cos I just lost my parents--both my parents died in the same year...to this day, people come up to me and say 'my dad died and that album really meant a lot to me,' which is very nourishing {pats heart} for a songwriter to hear that your songs have a utility beyond just their own solace, that it actually helps other people."

  18. #29
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    Ok then.

    Well maybe this is interesting.

    I have a character, and she's important. She's an underpowered nobody, a trust fund girl that wants to prove herself to daddy, she's a survivalist with a wild streak. She's going to face a mortal crisis by something from outside of reality and existence as humans know it, something that challenges her own cognizance of agency and free will, her own definition of herself. She needs to prevail.

    I just want a theme song to help guide my writing.
    Quote Originally Posted by Sting
    "You know cos I just lost my parents--both my parents died in the same year...to this day, people come up to me and say 'my dad died and that album really meant a lot to me,' which is very nourishing {pats heart} for a songwriter to hear that your songs have a utility beyond just their own solace, that it actually helps other people."

  19. #30
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    Quote Originally Posted by Hawgdriver View Post
    Ok then.

    Well maybe this is interesting.

    I have a character, and she's important. She's an underpowered nobody, a trust fund girl that wants to prove herself to daddy, she's a survivalist with a wild streak. She's going to face a mortal crisis by something from outside of reality and existence as humans know it, something that challenges her own cognizance of agency and free will, her own definition of herself. She needs to prevail.

    I just want a theme song to help guide my writing.
    What age is she in and what era? Is she an old soul?
    *The statements above are my opinions, unless they are links, because then they are links, which wouldn't make them my opinions, and I suppose stats aren't necessarily opinion, but they are certainly presented to support an opinion. Proceed accordingly.

    Quote Originally Posted by Buff View Post
    What is this, amateur hour? It's TNF against the Jets and you didn't think you'd need extra booze?

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