Kobul never liked missions. Kobul never liked new place. Missions on new place were boring. Missions always had lots of waiting and watching. Never enough hunting. Kobul was a hunter. Kobul was best hunter. Kobul was strong. Kobul was fast. Kobul was smart.
Big two arm pink thing was with Kobul on rooftop. Ghost thing told Kobul and him to watch for food on roof. Food attacked Kobul all the time. Kobul was never hurt. Kobul always would win. But Kobul was never allowed to eat food that attack Kobul. It angered Kobul. On old place, Kobul would eat all the food that tried to hurt Kobul or people that looked like Kobul. Sometimes people that looked like Kobul was food. Sometimes people weren’t. It was always up to those people. Read the rest of this entry
I struggled with this one for a while. This kind of character is not very easy to write.
The halls were empty. It was both positive and negative.
On the plus side, I didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone. I went full force, connecting my line to the metal door frames and zipping along at near light-speed. But finding no one meant I had to travel from room to room, and continue looking. No one in the training center, no one in the recreation rooms, no one in the command center. I was never given access to the announcement system. I could just seep into the interface, but I’d be scolded. Fortyseven isn’t a harsh leader normally, but he can be a little frightening when he wishes to.
Damn it to stasis. Read the rest of this entry
This one starts and ends a little differently. But hang in there, it does go somewhere.
My stories this year are character focused instead of plot focused. I end each story only when the reader can get a grasp for a part of the character and form an opinion about them.
You never quite understand how structurally resistant a wall can be until you’re knocked through one. The base was built to last through fires, raids, and even area damage bombs. It was not, however, meant to take a four hundred pound Restioxian woman sent through the air at high speed. The same can’t be said the other way around. My people aren’t likely to be brought down by this kind of damage. Even if it did take me a moment to get back up.
“Very good. You’re getting the hang of it.” Read the rest of this entry
Warning. The following story contains:
Foul language. Allusions to desired sex. An unfortunately likable asshole.
It didn’t get dark there. It got purple. Deep purple, so purple that everything else either looks too blue or too red depending on whether it’s after midnight or not. I walked up beside him just as he was starting to turn a little red. He was against the sky, standing in behind the railings of the sniper platform. He’d been there all day.
“Hey, sorry about… ya know.”
It took the kid a while to respond. He was still getting over the shock of the whole thing. New people, new job, new planet. Shit can be tough.
“Yeah…” Read the rest of this entry
Well, well, well… Here we are again. It’s MAY. It’s StoryADay! And I’m late, as usual.
The point is that I’m doing it.
I like doing themed collections. Last year, I wrote of death. I wrote nearly 70,000 words of death in 30 days. This year, I will write of heroes. No, I’m not going to go all heavy handed and write thirty stories about real heroes from everyday life. I’m a comic book geek… and because I’m doing the writing (and not you), I am going to write about what I want!
I have created a fictional world called Hypostatica. What this world is about and how heroes are incorporated will be shown in the writing.
My goal: To write 30 stories by the end of this month… not necessarily one per day, but averaged out, I should be good. I have no length goal. Things are getting pretty real in other areas of my life and… wait… why am I rationalizing to you? For that matter, why am I personifying the not-a-single-person who is reading this?
Wow, I’ve invalidated my entire life with that last sentence, so I’ll act like I never wrote it! Yay ignorance!
Keep watching…er…reading… er… not reading? Ah, hell. My stories are coming soon. I’m out.
My wife has just informed me that may now has 31 days… When did this happen? I was not at this meeting. I do not appreciate it when existence changes without my knowledge, let alone my say-so.
This is Aaron’s secondary mind, reporting from the creative recesses of his psyche. We’re here with one of the main characters of Myth; of Men and Monsters. She doesn’t quite understand that she’s a character and she hasn’t gone through any of the events in the story yet, we’ve caught her the day before her first introduction.
Ms. Bo’Fauhn, it’s lovely having you here, are you comfortable?
Yes, very much so, thank you.
Wonderful. Let’s get started as I know you have things you need to accomplish. Can you tell us a little about yourself? Give us some history on you.
My name is Claire Bo’Fauhn. I’m sixteen years old, nearing the end of my Spiriling courses at the Byohar Tower Schools. I’m the daughter of a Ghirault, a nobleman from Fridinlay. Read the rest of this entry
Here’s my personal philosophy…
Measure twice, cut once.
This does work for writing. Not everyone breezes through their first draft with little regard for pacing, sentence structure, paragraph breaks, readability, grammar, punctuation, etc. It’s the same for consistency in story-telling. For sci-fi and fantasy works, the mantra has to be refined.
Create a system of measurement, measure twice, create a cutting tool, then cut once.
The concept is done, the worlds are fleshed out, the peoples and places have been described. Maps have been drawn for continuity’s sake. My system of measurement has been set in stone and the eyeballing gave way to absolute relativism long ago.
I am at the point of creating a cutting tool and this is the fun part.
Developing characters’ method of action is giddily enough like playing god. Their voice, their personalities are the best part of everything.
I’ve gotten it in my head to do a character interview for Myth:OMAM which I will post here as soon as it is finished.
Thought you guys might enjoy this. It’s an excerpt of what I’m working on right now.
Light filtered through her closed eyelids, washing the darkness in a warm ruddy pink. She held still as long as she could. A lingering sleepy thought crept through her slowly waking mind, convincing her that if she gave the others no reason to notice, she’d be left alone.
She had not slept well. Read the rest of this entry
Which will be edited as soon as I can use more than my phone…
Oh, what’s that?
With what did I make the image?
I’ll give you a hint… it sorta rhymes with bone.
Alright, stop giggling at the word ‘bone’.
This is for myth, per my usual concept desgin train of thought.
Since I can’t edit the image caption on my phone, it is © Aaron Shively, 2011.
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