This week’s theme was dialogue. I wrote 5,500+ words for my three stories this week and in each I worked on trying to create dramatic and captivating dialogue. I think I had varying degrees of success overall. I would like to have some more feedback for my writing, however, I have no idea how to promote my writing blog. While I have about 20+ followers I don’t know how many actually follow any of my stories. I have gotten many likes this week and that’s certainly encouraging, but it’s hard to translate likes into constructive feedback. If anyone has any advice on how to attract people who might be interested in reading my stories please let me know in a comment. For now I just want to reflect on the three sections of dialogue I wrote this week.
The first of these was The Monk and this contained the worst dialogue of the three in my opinion. Not for the content, indeed I have actually won some praise for the content, and I am pleased with that myself. Rather what I was unhappy about with this dialogue was the simplicity of style, it was just questions and answers. It had the sophistication of a public school homework assignment. There was little passion in the dialogue, although I tried to put a feeling of solemnity in it to try and spice it up emotionally. What I would like to do in future Monk updates is have more arguments, debates, and emotive speeches. I don’t like the low energy nature of these dialogues. Continue reading “Writer’s Diary: Dialogue”
Otto shook his head dismissively. Randall fixed his attention on the big man.
“Do you have a problem with my plan, Otto?”
Otto cocked his head to the side smiling casually, then swinging it back about to face Randall his expression had transformed to one of abject fury.
“Yes, sir I have a problem, do you have any idea how much work we villagers have to do just to put food on our tables and to survive the winter? Yet you come here and cause a scare telling everyone about some unseen threat to them and demand we do as we are told. Heinrich here got lost in the woods because he believed your tales; there are no monsters out there. But yet you want a motte and bailey, well that’s just great, because I’m the woodsman here and you basically want me working all day every day to get the timber for such a work. Will I get any payment for it? Will I get any thanks? What about these other folk? They have more important work to do. Why should we do what you want us to do?”
Randall maintained a steely gaze at Otto throughout this entire outburst. He looked on as though completely unaffected by the torrent of extreme emotion that had just been poured forth. Continue reading “The Horror of Humhyde – Part 5”
Elwin put away his pen and paper, and carefully stashed his work and tools in the various secret nooks on his bookshelf. He checked the time on his wrist watch and carefully slipped out of his apartment. Holda glared at him as he slipped out the door, she demanded to know what he was doing. He hesitated, and calculating that she was not in a sufficiently foul mood to make a scene then and there, he just ignored her and crossed the threshold of the door closing it behind him. He could tell Holda was fuming, but as he had surmised she was not prepared to make a scene just now.
Elwin made his way up several flights to the balcony of the seventh floor and looked down the gloomy funnel of the atrium. Far below was Edith sitting at her usual table sorting through piles of papers. Feeling safely obscured from her sight while up there he allowed himself to lean forward over the rail enough so as to make his voyeurism obvious should she looked up. He admired her long blonde hair and face that was perfectly white like polished porcelain. Her clothes were still made from the same coarse fabric as all the other Delforians’ clothes were made from, yet hers actually fitted her body snuggly. Her clothes had seams in different places and it looked as though her clothes had actually been custom made for her. He started to imagine what it would be like to run his fingers around the orbit of her waist when at that moment her head tilted upwards and her gaze fixated on him. The thorn in his knee burst into a spasm of pain. His knee extended involuntarily and he felt his centre of gravity over reach the balcony railing. Continue reading “Thorns – Part 10”
“So joining this cult, the Aeshir? Well, did that give your life meaning?” asked Kelly.
Kent shook his head, “No. Well, not at first. By the time I completed my seasoning I was actually miserable and quite depressed about my life and the state of the world. I was ready to quit then, give up on my inheritance and just try to go back to being ignorant about my life again.”
“What does seasoning mean?” asked Paul.
“Seasoning? That’s the term we use for the initiation period. You need to pass a test to join, then spend one season in a monastery, swear an oath, and presto you’re part of the Aeshir. You can choose to stay more than one season if you like, but if you want to get your inheritance then you have to join one of the religious orders. There are five to choose from. I chose to join the druids as the membership challenges appeared the least odious to me.”
“Oh, so did becoming a druid give you a sense of meaning to your life?” interjected Kelly.
Continue reading “The Monk – Part 9”
Readers of my story “The Monk” might have noticed recently that the story line has moved into the next phase of development. Key parts of the background for the story are being revealed. This is a bit of a new genre because most stories about religion tend to be about existing religions, while for this story I am inventing two entirely new religions that exist in opposition to each other. The clerics of the two faiths are battling with each other and soon there will be a war of words developing as the two faiths battle for the hearts, minds, and souls of the characters.
Fans of the Star Wars franchise will point out that the Jedi and the Sith reflect two opposing religions. However, in no part of the movie franchise do the Jedi and Sith battle out their differences in a debate or dialectical struggle. They just fight violently with each other immediately on contact. This battle of goodies and baddies was enough for me as a child, but as an adult I find myself disturbed by the mindlessness of their constant warfare. The imperial and the republican forces may well represent the globalist and nationalist political forces that have existed throughout human history, but because the movies never delve into depth about the ideology driving the two factions one cannot easily distinguish the two. Luke Skywalker never once shows any remorse for the people he murders throughout the series with the exception of his own father. We never learn about Luke’s thought process, and it’s bothered me whether or not he is actually a good person. Continue reading “Writer’s Diary: Religious Sci-fi?”
The creature stopped by the torch and at first looked like it was pulling something out of her eye. Then Heinrich realised the creature was actually tugging at one of her eye balls. She tugged and until she ripped out one of the pig eyes and threw the putrid seeing organ onto the ground. Then reaching down she picked up a small case at the base of the torch stand. Inside this case was a dozen disembodied eyeballs. The creature selected one and proceeded to jam it into the empty eye socket. Heinrich watched the creature adjust the eyeball by rotating it into position with both hands. Once the creature was satisfied with her new eye she picked up the container and the torch, and plodded off into the forest.
Heinrich watched the light slowly grow dim and then disappear into the abyss of tree trunks. Buried in the blackness of the forest he wrapped himself up tightly in his cloak. He caught himself murmuring prayers and had to cover his mouth for fear that the other creatures might be lurking in the forest nearby. He eventually decided against moving and thought better to wait until sunrise. Continue reading “The Horror of Humhyde – Part 4”
“Delphorian boys, you have left the sheltered and limited confines of your nurseries. You have been plucked from the arms of soft gentle women and introduced to the harsh realities of the thorn. Our race is a cursed race. We brought it upon ourselves. In the old times we conquered and enslaved the whole world. We were arrogant and in one of our laboratories the plague was created. The plague escaped and rendered as weak and dying. In our moment of humility, our former slaves the Kelites, who were immune to this plague, graciously provided us with the solution to our folly: the thorns.
“Praise be to the Kelites!”
The hall erupted with a chant of praise to the Kelites.
“Give thanks for the thorns!”
The hall answered the headmaster in kind.
“May our debts be paid in full!”
Ready for it this time, I joined in the chant with the other boys.
“With the nursery behind you and your first thorn in place; you are ready to learn how to be useful citizens for the world. Our race owes a great debt to this world. A debt we must pay off. The rivers are dirty, the sky is mottled, and the land reeks of our sin. We have lived in excess, but we will work to make the Earth bountiful and fertile again for everyone. Continue reading “Thorns – Part 9”