Theme - "Shell"

It can be physical or abstract, or both.

Word Limit: 1500

Submission Deadline: Wednesday 2/25 by 11:59 PM Pacific.

Voting begins Thursday, 2/26, and goes until Saturday, 2/28 at 11:59 PM Pacific.

Optional Secondary Objective:

In media res - In Latin, this means "into the middle of things." In much simpler terms it means beginning your story somewhere in the middle, and not allowing the reader the luxury of knowing everything out of the gate. How you later fill in this info is up to you, it can be a slow build up, a scattering of clues the reader has to put together themselves, or an abrupt transition that changes the whole meaning of the tale.

Remember, this is just an option. It is not necessarily going to give you bonus points, but could definitely make your story interesting.

Submission Guidelines:

- All submissions must be written during the time of the challenge. We don't want a snippet of your doctoral thesis from 1996 being used here.
- One entry per poster. You can submit and then edit if you'd like, but finalizing before submitting is encouraged.
- Spelling and Grammatical errors can be used to great effect when the story, characters, and setting demand it. However, proofreading and spell-checking your writing will probably result in a more positive attitude towards it when people are voting.
- Using the topic as the title of your piece is discouraged. These challenges get a large number of submissions and if entries share the same title, it's difficult for the readers to separate them out come voting time.
- Any writing style is welcome, but remember that most people are probably going to vote for the well written short story over an elementary acrostic poem.
- There are many ways to interpret the theme for this assignment, we are all writers or wannabe writers, so keep that in mind when writing and critiquing others' works.
- Thousands of people read GAF, so if you don't want some masterpiece of yours to be stolen and seen in Hollywood a year from now, don't post it on here.
- Finally, there is a handy word count checker at WordCountTool.com. Nobody wants to be a word count Nazi, but please keep your submission under the limit.

Voting Guidelines:

- Anyone can vote, even those that do not submit a piece during the thread.
- Three votes per voter. Please denote in your voting your 1st (3 pts), 2nd (2 pts), and 3rd (1 pt) place votes.
- Please read all submissions before voting, it is only fair to those who put in the effort.
- You must vote in order to be eligible to win the challenge. Critiques/comments are encouraged but not required.
- When the voting period ends, votes will be tallied and the winner will get a collective pat on the back and will be in charge of picking a new topic to write about and pick the word length.
- In the event of a tie, the story with the highest number of first place votes will be declared the winner. If they are still tied after this first tiebreaker, the previous challenge winner will decide any further tie-breaking measures (2nd Place votes, Joint Topic Choice, etc.)
- Remember: you cannot win if you don't vote!


The Entries:

ronito - "Shell Shifters"
Great Rumbler - "Illuminus"
Darkpen - "Gelato"
AlternativeUlster - "I’m along to take the ride, Baby it is alright, this story is electric."
Timedog - "Empire of Ruin" (Audiobook!)
nitewulf - "The Tired Night"
Ward - "The Hero and the Villain"
Aaron - "The Scoundrel of Ayssia"
Zamorro - "Shells on a Balinese Beach"
darkbanjo - "A Night on the Razz"
Gattsu25 - "Long Day"
ZephyrFate - "Dreams in a Cage"
Assemble! - "Plain Jane"
Cyan - "Rabbit Hole"
Egg Shen - "Skin Deep"
Mr. Snrub - "Sandwich Bag"
crowphoenix - "Balance"
Scribble - "Tell-a-Tale of Penny"
DumbNameD - "Brando's Story"

Previous Challenges:

#1 - The Things Unseen” (Winner: beelzebozo)
#2 - An Unlikely Pair” (Winner: Aaron)
#3 - weightless, breathless” (Winner: Azih)
#4 - On the way” (Winner: DumbNameD)
#5 - The End” (Winner: Cyan)
#6 - Playing with Fire” (Winner: Aaron)
#7 - Something Brutal” (Winner: Ronito)
#8 - Parasite and Host” (Winner: Aaron)
#9 - The Seasons” (Winner: ivysaur12)
#10 - Anniversary” (Winner: Memles)
#11 - Comedy” (Winner: Scribble)
#12 - The Trilogy” (Winner: Aaron)
#13 - Impossible Thing” (Winner: Cyan)
#14 - Lost and Found” (Winner: Iceman)
#15 - Prescient” (Winner: Iceman)
#16 - Trick or Treat” (Winner: DumbNameD)
#17 - Countdown” (Winner: DumbNameD)
#18 - Masquerade” - (Winner: Nitewulf)
#19 - The Grey Area” (Winner: DumbNameD)
#20 - "Score" (Winner: Timedog)
#21 - "Foreign" (Winner: Aaron)

Sweet!

In media res - In Latin, this means "into the middle of things." In much simpler terms it means beginning your story somewhere in the middle, and not allowing the reader the luxury of knowing everything out of the gate. How you later fill in this info is up to you, it can be a slow build up, a scattering of clues the reader has to put together themselves, or an abrupt transition that changes the whole meaning of the tale.

Click to expand...

Interesting. This coupled with a multi-meaning topic should bring out quite a range of stories.

Definitely excited for this.

oh man. I can only think about the final fantasy spell for this topic.....I might have to sit this one out.

ronito said:

oh man. I can only think about the final fantasy spell for this topic....

Click to expand...

Hehe, same. I was playing FF III earlier today, which doesn't help. :lol

*digs out old TMNT fanfic...*

I'm going to have to think hard for this....

I got it! I had to look in the dictionary for multiple definitions, though. I wish the idea-farming process had been more organic, but it was either that or "Mr.Crab's Adventure on the Beach."

Can I write about Exxon instead?

I'm having a tough time selecting an idea I like.

ronito said:

oh man. I can only think about the final fantasy spell for this topic.....I might have to sit this one out.

Click to expand...

http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/shell?r=75

i got busy and forgot about the last thread and forgot to vote. sorry guys.

we'll see if i have time to submit something for this one.

It took a while, but I've finally got an idea in mind that I'm ready to run with. It's going to be a return scifi for me and if I can get it to turn out the way I want it to be, I think it'll be my best entry. I'll set in it probably all the way up until the submission deadline. For some reason, I'm really pumped about this one!

Ouch. I barely started writing and I've already hit the word count.

Scribble said:

Ouch. I barely started writing and I've already hit the word count.

Click to expand...

My outline is nearly a thousand words, so I sympathize.

Timedog said:

we'll see if i have time to submit something for this one.

Click to expand...

But, I thought...

I feel lied to. Your username is a lie!

Things got a little bit tight at the end, but I managed to get into writing everything that I wanted to at just three words under the limit! Happy!

And now I'm going to sit on it for a few days and see if I can think of anything that should be fixed up.

I'm gonna have to write fast to make sure no one steals my idea.

ronito said:

I'm gonna have to write fast to make sure no one steals my idea.

Click to expand...

Too late! I already swiped it.

interesting secondary objective. I sort of feel like I already did this in the last challenge, but this definitely gives me a different idea for how to go about it. I can't believe some of you guys having humongous outlines, though D:

"When the time comes to hang the capitalists they will argue over who gets the profits from the rope."

Marx had said that or something like that. At least Dietrich thought Marx had said that. He wondered why he was thinking of that now as he was lead to the gallows where a noose waited for his neck.

The crowd around him yelled and spat at him. People reached out trying to grab at him through his wall of guards. The hate on the people's faces was unsurprising. A fat woman shouted out "Capitalist pig!" and threw a rock at him. He quickly dodged and kept walking forward. Now that the moment he had feared for so long had come he found himself calm; a kind of crystal clairvoyance filled him. He wasn't angry at the mob around him or his executioners. They were playing their part in the game a game that would claim his life in a few short minutes. A game he would however, win.

"A game?" Zimmer had asked a few days prior in front of a jury his voice thick with carefully painted incredulity. "People's lives were ruined and you call it a game?"

Dietrich had snorted, he knew the "trial" would end in his death anyway so why not be honest. "You played it too Zimmer. You know." He replied.

Zimmer turned with practiced indignation, "I am not one of you."

Dietrich rolled his eyes.

"How can you call this a game? You got rich while people's lives were ruined. People starved. People died" Zimmer said before turning to pace dramatically before the jury.

"Capitalism, like any other kind of -ism, is just a shell game." Dietrich sighed as he started, "There's money under one of the shells, but which one? In capitalism the companies shift the shells around, the stockholders and employees guess where they money is. Like any good shell game minor awards are given out every so often to keep people playing thinking they can win. But the real location of the money is in the shifter's pocket."

"See citizens?" Zimmer said his arms outstretched in almost a messianic way, "This is why we must overthrow the oligarchs. To them this is just a game in which all of us are just pawns. We must institute a new government"

Dietrich cut him off, "You can change systems all you want, but the game remains the same all that changes is who is shifting the shells. Remember what happened with the Soviets."

Zimmer came close to Dietrich then, putting his face in Dietrich's. "People are just there to be used to you aren't they? You're a CEO through and through, you don't see people, you see resources."

"You were one not so long ago Zimmer. You tell me how it is." Dietrich snapped back. He hated Zimmer, even in the days when they were both on the same side. Even more so since The Collapse. Zimmer had promptly had a "change of heart" and given his money to the poor and easily fooled and lead the fight against the former power holders. Money that once bought cars now bought expensive guns and cheap soup for fighters. Zimmer said he did it "for the good of the people" but Dietrich saw through it. Zimmer was just taking the opportunity to clear out his rivals.

"My brothers and sisters know I left that life a long time ago. I now only have love for the people." Zimmer said to the jury. The room echoed with agreement.

Dietrich had to duck again to avoid another rock thrown at him as he got to the stairs of the gallows and began to climb. He took a look at the assembled mob. Fat from the unnatural syrups, additives and preservatives from the only food they could afford to buy, smelly from their fighting and work, muddy from the dirt they stood on they looked like the animals he always thought they were.

Off in the distance he saw a skinny figure clothed in white. Zimmer had come to see him hang. Another quote popped into Dietrich's head, this one from capitalist hero Jay Gould, "I can hire one half of the working class to kill the other half." Dietrich's mind went to the plans he had laid. The reporters he had paid, the radio personalities in his pocket, the progandaists and the people stupid enough to believe them. This time tomorrow they would be howling at the death of such a patriot as Paul Dietrich at the hands of such a mob. The "Keepers of the American Dream" with their fervent flag waving and sizable weapons cache would not stand for it, not when their leader had been given a large sum of money to avenge the death of Dietrich or any of his cohorts. Within days Zimmer would be dead and without his leadership his little “movement” would dissipate. Dietrich's children and the children of his cohorts would take over and the shell game would begin anew.

"Remember, you have to play the game better and smarter than I did." Dietrich had told his son weeks ago. He had known that Zimmer needed a boost to keep his mob going so Dietrich could tell that either it would be one of his cohorts or him that would be singled out. "My problem was that I saw the worker as the parasite. Always leeching at profits. I was so caught up in my cleverness I never realized that I was the parasite." Dietrich had told him.

"So don't be conspicuous." He continued, "The longest lived parasites are the ones that you don't know are there. We got greedy. We killed the host. Keep your host healthy, but just healthy enough. Be subtle in how you work. Never be the bearer of bad news, hire someone for that. Let politicians believe they're actually running the show. Watch your worth carefully. And trust no one; remember, in the end, there is no God, no country not even family to rely on. There is only money and it has no loyalty."

Off in the distance he could hear Zimmer talking to his rabble. Dietrich couldn't make out what he was saying but it didn't really matter. In a few days Zimmer would be dead and his silly little power grab with him. Order would be restored and it would be Dietrich's poor orphaned children who would lead the recovery to normalcy. He was John Galt. Let the swine have their day in the sun. Those that didn't follow would be butchered soon enough; those that did would grow fat until it was their time as well.

Without thinking Dietrich ducked his head to allow the executioner to slip the noose on his neck easier. His skin prickled at the feel of the rough rope. Someone behind him asked Dietrich if he had any last words. Again the thought came unbidden to his mind.

"When the time comes to hang the capitalists they will argue over who gets the profits from the rope."

He saw Zimmer in the distance gesticulating wildly as he spoke to the mob. He though Zimmer's dead body. He thought of his neck itching at the rope around it. A smile split Dietrich's face, "That commie bastard Marx was right." he chuckled looking around at himself. There was a loud crack as the trap door opened beneath him, then nothing.

Illuminus
Word Count: 1500

“You shouldn’ta said whatchu said, Fister.” The younger boy complained. He sniffed loudly and wiped at his nose. There was a large bruise just under his left eye. Fister refused to acknowledge that he’d been spoken to or that there was even anyone else in the room.

“Hey, Fister, why’d you go an’ do that, huh? You know the fogies already got it in for us ‘cuz they say we’s the ones thatta been stealin’ all the food lately.”

In frustration, Fister kicked away one of several empty cans that littered the floor.

“Just you shut up a second, Walgreen! I can’t think a bit over all yer yappin’!”

Walgreen sniffed loudly for a second time, he looked like he was about to cry again.

“But you heard what the chief fogie said! He said if we come sneakin’ round again he’ll have our hides! I thank he meant it, Fister, he was awful angry when he said that.”

“Would you just shut yer trap for a minute? That old coot can’t prove a thang and he knows it. He’s jus tryin’ to scare us and it looks like he did a right proper job on you already!”

Fister dug through the pile of empty cans in search of one that might’ve been a little less empty. No such luck.

Walgreen sat on top of box, twiddling his thumbs idly. He was hungry too, but better at bearing because it was something that he’d grown used to. The older boy suddenly jumped to his feet and kicked at the pile of cans, scattering them around the room.

“We ain’t got nothin’ to eat, huh, Fister?”

Fister turned angrily, “I can’t keep draggin’ yoor sorry hide around, Walgreen! They’d wouldn’t’ve been suspectin’ us if you hadn’t caused such a racket last time we went scavengin’.”

Walgreen hung his head. It was true. If he hadn’t have tried to get that candy bar from the top shelf, he wouldn’t have brought every fogie in the neighbor down on them. But it would have been worth it, it really would have been. Neither of the two had ever tasted real chocolate before, just that synthechoc that the stripes handed out sometimes to the “neglected youth” of the city.

They weren’t even really friends, not in the way that most people used the word anyway. Fister took care of Walgreen sometimes because nobody else cared enough to do so and Walgreen followed Fister around for the same reason. But when you got down to it, nobody ever lived that long here just because they had a few friends.

“Hey,” Walgreen said suddenly, “Tangelo said you saw somethin’ when were a-runnin’ along The Wall last night. What’d he mean by that, ya thank?”

“Nothin’,” Fister replied simply, “Tangelo just makes up stories ‘cuz he knows you’ll swallow ‘em up every time.”

“Come on, Fister!” The younger boy insisted, “You wouldn’ta been carryin’ on like you did with the fogies if you hadn’ta seen somethin’!”

Fister slammed his fist down on a nearby box and smashed in the top of it.

“Alright, already! I’ll tell you what I saw, but you gotta promise me that you won’t tell another soul, no matter what, okay?”

Walgreen nodded his head insistently. The older boy sat quietly for a few seconds and then he stood up, his head nearly brushing the ceiling.

“It won’t do no good jus’ tellin’ you ‘cuz you wouldn’t even be able to rightly comprehend it.”

“Whadda ya mean?”

“I’ll show you.”

The streets were mostly empty by then; even the badges had gone home for the evening. It was just as well, neither of them were all that keen on people poking into their business. The two went down a long, narrow alley and Fister stopped at a rusted old grate. He grabbed a hold of it and pulled it up.

“Gone on down, I gotta put the grate back once we’re inside.”

Walgreen climbed down into the darkness and Fister followed him a few seconds later. The sewers that ran under the streets were dark and carried a strong, penetrating odor, but they were good for running away from badges because they were all too afraid to go down there. Most of the time anyway.

Fister led the way with just a small, pocket lighter for illumination, but it wasn’t really necessary. Both boys had spent nearly their entire lives crisscrossing the city right under the feet of the fogies with them none the wiser. Fister stopped suddenly in front of a small, metal door. It was just two feet tall and the hinges were a mass of crumbling rust.

“Somebody was commin’ after me, so I ducked in here fer a spell. That’s when I saw it.”

Walgreen swallowed hard.

“You ready?”

Walgreen nodded.

The older boy grabbed the handle and pulled. Then, a peculiar thing happened: the door opened, but not in the way that doors are supposed to. Rather than pivoting on its hinge, the whole door slid silently out of its cavity on well-oiled rails. Fister climbed over the top of door and then crawled through the newly-revealed opening. Walgreen hesitated for just a second and then quickly followed him.

The room that the two found themselves in was about five feet by five feet and just over three feet high, barely enough room for more than one person.

“I don’t see what’s so darned special about this,” Walgreen mumbled.

Fister reached up and grabbed a tiny, metal panel that’d been set into the ceiling and slid it over a few inches. Behind it there was hole about as wide as a fogie’s thumb. Fister raised one eye up to the hole and held his hand over the other. He stared up for a few seconds and then sat back down.

“I don’t understand,” he said dejectedly, “I saw it yesterday.”

“What was it?”

“A light,” Fister replied, “A bright light. Brighter’an anythang I’d ever set my eyes on before. It was all yellow and warm like.”

“Ain’t nothin’ there now, Fister. You shure you didn’t dream it?”

“I saw it!” Fister yelled angrily, “I did see it!”

He looked about to say more, but instead sat back down on the cool, stone floor. Walgreen believed him, but if there really was something, why wasn’t anything there now? The two sat in the tiny room for a long time, neither saying anything. Fister started to move toward the door and that’s when it happened.

The room was suddenly flooded with light, brighter than any that the two had ever seen before. It bathed the room in a silvery sheen that sparkled and bounced with giddy delight. The two boys looked at each other, then Fister raised his head up and looked through the hole.

“I see it!” He shouted, “Only…it’s kinda differ’nt this time. There’s a big silver ball hangin’ there in that big room above us. It’s kinda weird, though. Here, look fer yerself.”

Fisted moved and Walgreen looked through the hole. He just stared at it, his mouth hanging open, for nearly a minute. Then he looked over at Fister.

“What’re you gonna do, Fister?”

“I’m gonna find the place where this light’s commin’ from. The fogies know somethin’ about it, but they wouldn’t say word one.”

“You don’t mean…?”

“Yeah, I’m goin’ out. You’ll come with me, right?”

Walgreen nodded his head slowly and hesitantly. They both knew what the fogies said about people that went out. Maybe it was true and maybe it wasn’t, but nobody that’d went out’d ever came back.

The two got up early the next morning. Fister put what little food he’d managed to scavenge on a moldy tablecloth and then tied up the corners. He took Walgreen’s hand and then they stepped out into the street.

Normally fogies wouldn’t pay much attention to a couple of scrappers, unless they thought something of theirs was being taken, but today was different. It was hard to say just how, but it was like they knew what the two boys were planning. They glanced out of the corners of their half-open eyes as the boys walked past. Some shook their heads sadly and others smirked, turning up the corners of their mouths. They could tell when somebody was getting ready to go out.

In no time at all, Fister and Walgreen stood in front of The Door. It was just six feet tall and made out of a solid piece of metal with no ornamentation and it bore a grimy layer accumulated through a century or more of disuse. Hardly unique in that respect, but everyone in town knew what it was. And they stayed far away from it.

Fister had seen it opened just once before and the drunk fogie who went through had never come back. Walgreen looked up at Fister, silently asking a question. Fister squeezed his hand in reassurance. Then he reached up and quietly pushed the door open.

Double-post, bleh. :/

That was quick!

Scribble said:

That was quick!

Click to expand...

When an idea hits, I write. And this time around I even waited longer than I normally would before posting it.

Scribble said:

That was quick!

Click to expand...

I know my schedule coming up. I'm going to be much busier later this week. I figured if I didn't do it now it wouldn't get done. Caution to the wind and all that.

This is a completely brilliant subject and I can't wait to try it. I missed the last topic (ironically my own) but it won't happen again.

However, I'm trying to write my novel. Maybe an excerpt...?

bengraven said:

This is a completely brilliant subject and I can't wait to try it. I missed the last topic (ironically my own) but it won't happen again.

However, I'm trying to write my novel. Maybe an excerpt...?

Click to expand...

Many of us are working on novels.

I find that it's typically best to keep these completely separate and use these as a practice/learning experience. Sometimes you need to pull yourself out of your novel and do something vastly different to get better.

Happy Anniversary, GAF writing challenge!

That's right, it was a year ago today that AlteredBeast began the very first challenge. And it's been quite a trip ever since. We've had highs and lows as interest in writing has waxed and waned, but for the most part, the writing has only gotten better as we've gone on.

But some of the older stories are still damn good. I wanted to take a moment to recognize some of my personal favorite classic GAF challenge stories. Some of these are from regulars, some from one-off cameo appearance writers, but they're all great. Let's travel back in time and check 'em out (in order of appearance):

#1 The Things Unseen: beelzebozo - "Investments"
#2 An Unlikely Pair: Great Rumbler - "John and Robot John"
#2 An Unlikely Pair: nitewulf - "Engineers Don't Dream"
#5 The End: Mike Works - "Paper"
#8 Parasite and Host: Aaron - "A Lesser Form of Pity"
#9 The Seasons: ivysaur12 - "St. Anthony of Padua's"
#10 Anniversary: Memles - "Announcements"
#15 Prescient: Iceman - "The Number 10"
#16 Trick or Treat: DumbNameD - "Catching Venus"

(Limited to one piece per writer, max. Recent pieces avoided, as those haven't had time to become classics yet. )

So Happy Anniversary, and many thanks to AlteredBeast for coming up with the idea and kicking it off, and to the regulars (Aaron, DumbNameD, nitewulf, ronito, Scribble, et al) for always making it fun.

Here's to another year of awesome stories!

Gelato
Word count: 704

The rain had stopped, and yet despite the cars racing past, and the distinct smell of smog in the air, there was a certain something about how the air was like after it rained. With worms crossing sidewalks, soil over-flooded, grass and leaves covered in droplets and dew, maybe it was being alone that made it feel that much more dramatic, like a single instrument playing music into my senses.

But I was hardly alone. I was with her. We were standing there, alone, together. The cold air bit at our faces and fingers, but at the same time, there was inner warmth. But I wasn't focused on her, nor was she. Together, we stood there, taking everything in.

I don't know how long we stood there. Could have been half a minute, or half an hour, it didn't matter.

But it was getting late. Indeed it was, so I spoke.

"We should get going"

She took a sigh, and tried to walk away. Having clutched onto her, we began to waddle away from the wall. "Get off, you're heavy!"

"Alright."

We walked past the gelato shop, the coffee place, the video store, and where the hotdog stand usually stood, then turned the corner. From there, our ways would split. She turned to me, pecked me on the cheek, and said she'd see me tomorrow.

That day never came.

She died at 9:45 PM, according to the nurse. They like to use the word "passed away," I think it makes the idea of death softer. The reality is that she died. She died... and I feel so powerless over that fact.

---

Today is our anniversary, you know? We met today. Do you remember, Sarah? I hope you didn't forget. Its okay if you did, though. Actually, I didn't even know it was today until I went through our old things, took a look back at older calenders. Three years. Can you believe that? I can't. We knew each other since... 8th grade, right? You transferred from California, so different from the other girls. I'm sorry I teased you. I love you, though. Do you love me?

---

"Hey!" I salute, drowsily.

"What's up, man? Your hair's all over the place." It was Evan. "Gained some weight, too."

"You don't look so bad yourself," I laughed. "Come in, come in.

Evan Faraway was one of the few friends I had left. Well, real-life friends, anyways. He'd been coming over after school after I started to skip. He keeps me in touch with what's happening outside. I rarely went outside these days. Sometimes, sure, but for the most part, I stayed in my room.

"Hey, just sit here and play some Smash while I wash up, yeah?"

"Alright," he replied.

---

I swear I want to unplug every phone in the house.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is Charlie Nebinson there?" I recognized this voice.

"Yes, speaking?"

"Hi, Charlie, this is Amanda Newman, I'm a student counselor at West Point Highschool. We spoke before, do you remember?"

"Yes, I remember," I mumbled.

"Do you think you could come into school tomorrow? We need to discuss what we're going to do about your missing school. I've already talked with your mother, and she's very concerned. Do you think you could come in?"

"I guess."

"Okay, good. Please come drop by the counselor's office. Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I hope to see you then, Charlie."

"Bye."

"Bye bye."

---

<ChewingGum has entered>
<Welcome to TheFuriousFew: Good job on the raid last night, guys! Congrats to everyone who get their Malice armor and weapons. Remember to check FuriousFew.org and our message board for the latest news and times for meetups.>
<HenrytheXXX> hey chew! Where've you been?
<Star> hey chew
<Marth> sup gums
<Arrowhead> So I was like, whatever happened to the mystery pokemon dungeon series? I mean, sure, they weren't the best selling games, but I demand more rogue-likes on the market. And damn Sega for their self-sabataging asses.
<Arrowhead> Oh, hey, sup chew.
<ChewingGum> hey guys.
<ChewingGum> Nothing much. I dinged 45 on my Ranger last night.
<Star> grats!
<HenrytheXXX> congratulations!
<Marth> congradulations
<Marth> *congratulations
<Arrowhead> Grats, man.
<ChewingGum> So what are you guys up to? Are we doing anything tonight?
<Arrowhead> Nah, man, nothing tonight. We're in a party right now, though.
<ChewingGum> Oh yeah? Need a 45 Ranger?
<Arrowhead> Sorry, man, we're grinding in the South Barnabos Island on Inklings.
<ChewingGum> oh
<Arrowhead> Maybe later, man.
<Malorrie> hey guys
<Star> webba mal
<Marth> wb, mal
<ChewingGum> hey mal
<Arrowhead> Welcome back, Mal.
<Malorrie> lol
<HenrytheXXX> wb
<Malorrie> this is delicious orange juice
<Malorrie> <3
<Marth> I hate orange juice. I like Tang and Orange soda, though D:
<ChewingGum> lol
<Malorrie> I love orange juice

---

Its so hot today. The streets are crowded, there's music and noise. People chattering. I can't believe this is the same street...

Well, no, I can believe its the same street, of course its the same street. But I haven't been on this street in so long. There's a new store over there. Where we stood. Where I stood.

Its so bright and bleak. The streets are blinding my eyes. I see all of these people's faces, yet I don't know any of them. Even the stores. The gelato shop. The coffee place. The video store. And where the hotdog stand usually stood. And the corner.

This time, I walked down her path.

I could smell her.

I walked down her path.

"Oh! I'm sorry."

I had bumped into someone. A young lady. She looks younger than me, probably from West Point. Pretty, too.

"Oh, that's ok," she said.

I smiled weakly, and moved on.

Wow! I can't believe it's been a year. Thanks for making these threads great guys, especially in my absence.

I will start writing again, I promise. Between 40 hours a week at work and another full time schedule at school, my time is so zapped, but I promise I will start writing here and there again, perhaps it will get me back in the mood to finish my screenplay as well!

Great Rumbler said:

Illuminus
Word Count: 1698

Click to expand...

Psst.... 1500 this time, per the OP.

I mean, I'm not fussed over a few extra hundred words, but I'm new at this and don't want to see anyone piss on your face or anything.

bengraven said:

This is a completely brilliant subject and I can't wait to try it. I missed the last topic (ironically my own) but it won't happen again.

However, I'm trying to write my novel. Maybe an excerpt...?

Click to expand...

ronito said:

Many of us are working on novels.

I find that it's typically best to keep these completely separate and use these as a practice/learning experience. Sometimes you need to pull yourself out of your novel and do something vastly different to get better.

Click to expand...

Considering the one year anniversary and all, maybe it's time to expand this situation a bit, and create a second topic on the novels or other longer works people are working on. It wouldn't all be excerpts, but advice, comments, and ideas to help one another overcome what's a daunting task. I always thought it was a shame that the November novel writing thing died out once the month was over.

Well, if you wanna go digging about a year ago, I also created a thread (or participated in, I can't remember) a thread just for that purpose. Worth reviving.

hey_monkey said:

Psst.... 1500 this time, per the OP.

I mean, I'm not fussed over a few extra hundred words, but I'm new at this and don't want to see anyone piss on your face or anything.

Click to expand...

UUUGGGHHH. All the past ones have been 1700 so I got used to it.

If anyone wants to lodge a formal complaint about the size, I'll cut down.

Great Rumbler said:

UUUGGGHHH. All the past ones have been 1700 so I got used to it.

If anyone wants to lodge a formal complaint about the size, I'll cut down.

Click to expand...

Formal complaint. You know I'm a stickler for word limits. Sorry.

Aaron said:

Considering the one year anniversary and all, maybe it's time to expand this situation a bit, and create a second topic on the novels or other longer works people are working on. It wouldn't all be excerpts, but advice, comments, and ideas to help one another overcome what's a daunting task. I always thought it was a shame that the November novel writing thing died out once the month was over.

Click to expand...

I was thinking about this. But came up with a few issues. First off, if you're actually looking to publish it, companies will frown upon excerpts being out there on the net. Further threads have shown that are asking for feedback, 40% of the posts are like "It's great!", another 40% are like "You suck!" 15% are joke posts, only 5% of the posts actually have any valid criticism and only half of those are any good. So for excerpts, I'd say no. I'm actually playing with the idea of enlisting the help of some of the creative writing crew that have proven helpful and honest in their criticisms in reviewing the next draft of my novel.

As for general advice, I'm all for that.

ronito said:

Formal complaint. You know I'm a stickler for word limits. Sorry.

Click to expand...

I'm going to punch you now, ronito.

Aaron said:

Considering the one year anniversary and all, maybe it's time to expand this situation a bit, and create a second topic on the novels or other longer works people are working on. It wouldn't all be excerpts, but advice, comments, and ideas to help one another overcome what's a daunting task. I always thought it was a shame that the November novel writing thing died out once the month was over.

Click to expand...

I am for this, but it would be a long time before I get to put out something. Plenty of work to do before hand concerning the characters.

ronito said:

I was thinking about this. But came up with a few issues. First off, if you're actually looking to publish it, companies will frown upon excerpts being out there on the net. Further threads have shown that are asking for feedback, 40% of the posts are like "It's great!", another 40% are like "You suck!" 15% are joke posts, only 5% of the posts actually have any valid criticism and only half of those are any good. So for excerpts, I'd say no. I'm actually playing with the idea of enlisting the help of some of the creative writing crew that have proven helpful and honest in their criticisms in reviewing the next draft of my novel.

As for general advice, I'm all for that.

Click to expand...

No more than small excerpts would be posted, like a page or less. Posting large sections would a bad idea for a number of reasons. We can also make a no 'it's great/suck' rule, where if you are going to say something, make sure its substantial.

Dax01 said:

I am for this, but it would be a long time before I get to put out something. Plenty of work to do before hand concerning the characters.

Click to expand...

My idea for the topic would be helping at every stage of writing, even before you have something substantial written. You could post a character concept and get some feedback on that. You could also get advice on how to start writing. For instance, I don't believe in making a lot of preparation beforehand. Write the first chapter, and see how things roll, then construct a more solid outline with a focus on how it'll all end.

Aaron said:

My idea for the topic would be helping at every stage of writing, even before you have something substantial written. You could post a character concept and get some feedback on that. You could also get advice on how to start writing. For instance, I don't believe in making a lot of preparation beforehand. Write the first chapter, and see how things roll, then construct a more solid outline with a focus on how it'll all end.

Click to expand...

I'm not interesting in writing a book, but a script for an episode of a TV show. When it comes to the characters I am working on, I want to flesh out everyone before hand. Plus, I want to see how good I am at this without any help/advice.

And if there is going to be a thread like this, I don't want just small excerpts.

Aaron said:

No more than small excerpts would be posted, like a page or less. Posting large sections would a bad idea for a number of reasons. We can also make a no 'it's great/suck' rule, where if you are going to say something, make sure its substantial.


My idea for the topic would be helping at every stage of writing, even before you have something substantial written. You could post a character concept and get some feedback on that. You could also get advice on how to start writing. For instance, I don't believe in making a lot of preparation beforehand. Write the first chapter, and see how things roll, then construct a more solid outline with a focus on how it'll all end.

Click to expand...

Well I could certainly use help. But would rather keep the excerpts out to a few people, you know too many chefs and all that. But I'd love to have a thread for bouncing serious writing problems. Again my only concern would be the worthless feedback thing.

Dax01 said:

I'm not interesting in writing a book, but a script for an episode of a TV show. When it comes to the characters I am working on, I want to flesh out everyone before hand. Plus, I want to see how good I am at this without any help/advice.

And if there is going to be a thread like this, I don't want just small excerpts.

Click to expand...

I've done a few scripts and I still feel the characters mostly come out in the actual writing, and too much planning doesn't end up helping very much.

ronito said:

Well I could certainly use help. But would rather keep the excerpts out to a few people, you know too many chefs and all that. But I'd love to have a thread for bouncing serious writing problems. Again my only concern would be the worthless feedback thing.

Click to expand...

Excerpts could be optional with a declaimer that it might affect your chance of being published. We could also leave e-mail addresses for more private feedback.

Aaron said:

Excerpts could be optional with a declaimer that it might affect your chance of being published. We could also leave e-mail addresses for more private feedback.

Click to expand...

I'm all for it.

Aaron said:

I've done a few scripts and I still feel the characters mostly come out in the actual writing, and too much planning doesn't end up helping very much.

Click to expand...

I want to know who they are before I start writing them. I'm thinking things through and looking at who he/she is.

I’m along to take the ride, Baby it is alright, this story is electric.
by AlternativeUlster
word count: 1135

Part Two

“Right now I see some sort of taint,” said Daniel Craig.
“Well Daniel Craig, you don’t see taint but you smell it,” I then look down at my balls and indeed there were some smell symbols like wiggles and dashes and perhaps he is also talking about this red rash coming off my taint balls and is sort of peeling off. I continue on, “You have come a long way from James Bond to being a police officer of national rank.”
“National rank?,” you can hear the excitement of shit talking coming out of the former James Bond’s voice since he is so very pathetic nowadays, “Does this mean that I am being promoted?”
“Promoted?,” I think about it to myself, “Promoted?,” and yet I continued to think about to myself. Did I just make a slip up? I had said too much in such little amount of time. I had forgot to buy those aluminum balloons from the grocery store with famous cartoon characters and catch phrases. I always imagined these aluminum balloons being like how a jukebox is to a singer-songwriter, band, or sometimes an orchestra if you go to a fancy bar where it is required to wear a suit and tie.
All and all, it didn’t matter, Daniel Craig died in front of his parents while sucking someone’s cock and his parents were there and said, “I didn’t know my son was a faggot.”
Sometimes when you are around homosexuals they are cool with you joking around about them and saying, “Oh you are such a faggot” but to hear it from some dude’s parents, they sounded quite harsh but at least Daniel Craig didn’t die as a black man because then my mind would explode because the “n“ word hurts me so much.
I had to go for a walk and think about the homosexual situation for a bit. Next time I had to be ready. I had to backhand a woman though if I ever came to close (for comfort).
“Women need to know their roles,” I am telling this to my new partner, “but I am afraid that you need to take off your shirt right now.”
I should note that my new partner was a woman. If I had a time machine I could change my words to sound more clear but none of that is really that important. She was a good lover, not the best, but this time was what I needed. I came into her ass and later when we were on a chase on foot against some black people that didn’t do anything wrong, she shat herself. It was embarrassing but it is true that cum is sort of like a laxative but tastier.
She cried for a bit but I was already ready for another round and I didn’t mind the poop falling out of the bottom of her pants leg. She had to poop that much. It was gross but once you got past the smell, well, she was like a rainbow.
I should also note that this woman isn’t fat nor is she a famous person or at least not yet.
A couple of years later, she dropped out of the force to work the streets. She had the face that could work the streets but it was mostly the streets that worked her and when the streets worked her it was to the point of her dying of cancer from the smoke. Where I come from, the streets that work are filled with smoke and it was possible to die of cancer because of all the smoke.
At her funeral, there were nobody else but whores so I thought it would be appropriate to tell everyone about the time I fucked her up her ass and she pooped herself. At least someone found it funny but it wasn’t her very attractive sister.
A couple of years later, she would forget that I said that at her funeral so we went out on a date. I found out she wrote Adam Sandler fan fiction but him into Dragon Ball Z stories and her punch line for everything was in an Adam Sandler voice saying, “Oh no Piccallo!” It was annoying and I could have only think of seven things that were more annoying (not in order by the way):
1. People asking black people if it was cool to say the N word around them.
2. MadTV reruns replacing SNL reruns on Comedy Central.
3. People who lied about being from Palestine to get some sort of “cred.”
4. Biopics that were always lame but somehow mange to get great performances from the person doing their impersonation.
5. The 8th Wave of Grunge
6. White people who say they are Buddhists.
7. Women who have unprotected sex and has STDs and don’t tell you about them so once you find out they have STDs, you have to go back and break their jaw.
Regardless, she was a cunt and wasn’t that good in bed so I had to backhand her. I think I solved the homosexual problem for now.

Part Four

As I drive my police car I look over at the Shell gas station and I just realized that I have never ever forever have ever never ever seen a gas station blow up. There is something intimidating about the gas station and perhaps I should just leave it alone.
The thought of it grows on me. Days become more days which in turn becomes more days and then the sum gets added and it is a day before a full week so then I had to go back the Shell gas station that I have been thinking about for the past 6 days.
I should have seen the signs earlier. The place wasn’t open and had been closed for quite some time now according to its sign that said, “We have been closed for about 27 days now. Sorry dudes.”
Where can I overpay for a gallon of milk now?

Part Five, the final Act for now

The homosexual problem came back and into full force back in the city but I wasn’t there for I was on vacation. They tried to get me to get back from my vacation but I had to remind them that their paranoia is something else and that something else was beyond paranoia like it would have the adjectives ultra or super in front of it. I decided to teach them about tolerance over the phone and like that, everyone on my police force were better than before.
All this talk about tolerance made me want to get my dick wet in sweet vagina juice.

AlternativeUlster said:

Part Two...
Part Four

Click to expand...

The final page is written in the books of history,
as man unleashed his deadly bombs and sent troops overseas
to fight a war which can't be won and kills the human race,
a show of greed and ignorance, man's quest for dominance.

They say when a mistake is made, a lesson has been learned
but this time, there's no second chance, the hate engulfs the world.
A million lives are lost each day, a city slowly burns,
a mother holds her dying child, but no one is concerned.

Cyan said:

The final page is written in the books of history,
as man unleashed his deadly bombs and sent troops overseas
to fight a war which can't be won and kills the human race,
a show of greed and ignorance, man's quest for dominance.

They say when a mistake is made, a lesson has been learned
but this time, there's no second chance, the hate engulfs the world.
A million lives are lost each day, a city slowly burns,
a mother holds her dying child, but no one is concerned.

Click to expand...

I almost got a Bad Religion tattoo until I saw some guy who had it at the exact same spot where I was going to get mine which was on the back of neck. It was the cross-buster but I am sure I would have even more trouble trying to find a job with that tattoo.

ronito said:

I'm all for it.

Click to expand...

Okay, I posted the beginnings of the topic. It's pretty bare, but can be built on through suggestions:
http://www.neogaf.com/forum/showthread.php?p=14848485#post14848485

AlternativeUlster said:

I almost got a Bad Religion tattoo until I saw some guy who had it at the exact same spot where I was going to get mine which was on the back of neck. It was the cross-buster but I am sure I would have even more trouble trying to find a job with that tattoo.

Click to expand...

Awesome! But yeah, even the cross-buster t-shirt is enough to get loads of dirty looks, and that you can at least take off. A tattoo could be problematic.

Empire of Ruin
Word count: 888

Audio book version!


“You’re presence here is quite unexpected. I didn’t feel you.”

“My energy is stealthed using ancient arts.” Malugo said without any hint of emotion.

“There are no arts that are not inherent to my body. There is no knowledge unforeseen to me. There is no will that my vice cannot crush. Save your breath human. Savor every last molecule of oxygen that fills your lungs, every palpitation of your heart. The sweat that beads down your brow and cools your skin shall be the last mercy your soul will experience. Oblivion is too noble a fate for your likes. My father’s kingdom awaits the souls of those whose sins defile my throne.”

“There’s something you do not, and cannot understand, oh noble one,” Malugo crowed, “your painbody is wrought with the sins of humans. Your dark flesh bubbles and moves under your armor with every transgression of my people, and still, you do not understand. Our sins forge your very flesh and bone, and yet we humans hold a power that you will never know.”

The dark figure stood up from His throne. The floor beneath Him shook from the immense weight of His body. A living red aura surrounded and encircled Him, these were the souls of past defilers, crying out in anguish from His father’s dominion. They whispered lies and trickeries, trying incessantly to win the mercy of The Martyr and the gift of oblivion so their suffering might end. On a quiet night one could hear these whisperings for miles surrounding His castle.

The Martyr stood near 10 feet tall, towering over Malugo. His body was fully enclosed in black pearlescent armor except for tiny crevices between each plate where His dark skin could sometimes be seen boiling and churning during times of great sin. In His hands The Martyr held a giant hammer. It was cracked from use and the metal had the same reflective quality as His black armor. None had ever seen The Martyr without this armor. It was said to be impenetrable, forged by the hand of His father, The Omnipotent.

“Do you really believe that you, a simple man, can defeat a God!? Your human-like faults are to be expected, but you choose to lust after my very throne? Your retribution shall be infinite. My empire is absolute. A paradise. It is perfect in every conceivable measure. Those who honor me will find forgiveness for their sins. Those who defy me will have an eternity to regret their course. Come.”

Without hesitation, Malugo unsheathed his sword and rushed The Martyr. A flurry of blows rained down upon His dark armor with astonishing speed and frequency. Each collision glanced off the armor without leaving a scratch. Malugo thrusted and attacked while The Martyr stood in place like a statue. His sword grew heavy in his hand, and the sweat pouring down Malugo’s face nearly blinded him. He recoiled.

“Ha, now you see that your efforts are fruitless. No human hand has ever harmed my body. Now, with my Omnipotent hammer, I will purge my empire of your filth.”

“You still do not understand!” Malugo muttered between large gasps of air, “I have traveled this entire earth—your empire. I have studied every art. I have vanquished every foe that stood in my way. I have seen the mountains and the fields and the endless seas. I have seen the conditions of the people of your empire. I have seen this ‘prosperity’ that you bestow, and I care not for it. Until now I have hidden my energy from you, but now your empire will come to ruin.”

“Nonsense! By my father’s hammer, to Hades with you!”

In a powerful and exaggerated motion, The Martyr lifted the hammer high above his head. Malugo dropped his weapon and emptied his heart and mind. The Martyr gasped and his hammer fell heavily, cracking the marble floor. The skin that lay underneath the black armor began to boil violently, seeping through the spaces between each plate. The Martyr groaned as if in immense pain, and his body began expanding.

“Impossible! By what art? What…what are you??”

“I am pure hate. I am complete emptiness. Until now I’ve hidden my true nature from you. My heart is blacker than the skin that now expands and threatens to expose your body to my blade. Those that came before me were unpure. There is not a shred of love in my heart for anything. My hatred is greater than all the sins that course through your veins, because it is undiluted. It is unending. Your prosperity, your peace, your forgiveness—I hate them all with equal disdain. Once you are dead, every human will feel the consequence of his sins, and I will rule over this earth. From my clenched fist will come pain, suffering, war, and death. Human anguish will know no bounds. Tell your father that I will be waiting for him upon my eventual death, and I will kill him too.”

The Martyr’s body grew larger and larger from the overbearing weight of hate, until a gap large enough for Malugo’s sword to poke through was created in-between plates. In a terrible explosion, the defilers were cast out to perform their trickeries on the people, and the sum of all inequities was released upon His empire.

“Right now I see some sort of taint,” said Daniel Craig.

Click to expand...

This is the greatest opening line in the history of anything I've ever read.

I added an audio book version of my story to my original post. Why I worked for hours on that instead of my chemistry work, or just using that time to write a better story...I don't know. It was fun though!