Dangerously Genocidal: challenges

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Showing posts with label challenges. Show all posts
Showing posts with label challenges. Show all posts

Tuesday, 3 May 2016

My Name is Stumpy - #BlogBattle Week 60: Duplicitous

May 03, 2016 6
My Name is Stumpy
#BlogBattle Week 60: Duplicitous

This is my entry for the #BlogBattle hosted by Rachael Ritchey. This week, the theme that seemed to stand out in my mind as I envisioned the story, was something of a Horror. I hope you enjoy it!

* * * * *

Welcome, my friend, welcome. Please, take a seat. I have not had company in a long time - it is good to see a new face. Coffee? Oh, of course, forgive me. Old habits die hard. I must say that I was surprised to receive your letter. Not many are interested in my story, but I would be happy to share it with you.

Now then.

My name is Stumpy. It's not my real name, but I've been using it for so long that the name my parents give me feel foreign on my tongue and to my mind. People have been calling me Stumpy since I was eight years old; ever since I'd lost my leg to the old chipper on grandfather's farm. It'd been awkward at first, walking around with half my leg missing, but one grows used to prosthesis. Besides, when I finally chose my profession, it became rather useful. Who would've thought that a peg-leg clown could be so popular?

Yes, you heard that right. I'm a clown. It doesn't pay much, and I can't say that my father - may the old bastard rest in peace - ever forgave me for choosing to become one. I went the whole nine yards, even attended a professional clown school. I have my degree framed and hanging against a wall in my house. I always displayed it proudly. It was a badge of honour for me. My wife - soon to be ex-wife, I suppose - found it adorable. 

She married me because she thought I was funny, you know? Said that I always made her happy, always knew just how to make her laugh. I'd been proud of that too, once.

I wish I could tell you where it all went wrong. I'm not exactly sure myself. I read an article, many years ago, that spoke about the mental stability of clowns. The writer was quite certain that the humans behind the painted happy faces tended to be... depressed. I thought he was an idiot, then. Over the last few years I've gone over that article so many times in my mind - I didn't have much else to do, you see - that I can probably recite it word for word. It's still hard to believe, even now, but maybe the writer had a point.

Not that I would say that I'm depressed... but I'm not altogether certain about my mental stability anymore. Now, don't give me that look. Ask even the craziest of men, and he would still believe that he is sane.

I really did enjoy being a clown. There was something so... undeniably satisfying to bringing joy to others - whether they were adults sitting in a pantomime crowd, or children at a birthday party. They always laughed at the foolishness of stumbling old Stumpy. I loved them for their smiles and their laughter. I don't know when it happened, though, but one day... that changed.

Their laughter was no longer satisfying. They twisted, became cruel. I saw derision in their eyes, I saw them mocking me with their toothy grins. That was when I began to hate them. Over time, I became angry with them for deserting me, for withholding from me the true merriment that was meant to be my reward. So, when I could no longer have their true laughter, I settled for pure screams.

Yes, I can see that you are familiar with the rest of the story. They've certainly brandied it about a fair deal, publishing every event in even the finest detail. They certainly made it sound like I had become a clown specifically to utilize the deceptively friendly facade to to satisfy my 'urges', I believe they called them.

It was good to speak about the true man again... it was beginning to feel as though he were long dead. Perhaps he is; dead and gone the moment the white face and painted red smile became more real than the man hiding behind them. Perhaps that is why I'd killed them... I simply forced them to reveal the true nature behind their mocking smiles, eternally preserved in death. So young, so innocent... so cruel.

But, as you can see, we have run out of time. Not that I'm in any hurry, you understand, but I don't think those many families waiting out there would be quite so happy if I missed this final performance. After all, is death not a performance as well? I rather welcome it, having waited for it so many years in this small cell. I suspect it will be a comfort.

Now then, before you leave my dear young man, permit an old man walking down death row one final handshake...


Vex Vaudlain   
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Friday, 7 November 2014

NaNoWriMo - The Challenges of Week Two Are Here!

November 07, 2014 2



Time Flies! 

The first week of NaNoWriMo is almost over, and this is usually the point where things should be easier. After all, starting is the hardest part! But when you're writing during NaNo, the trials seem to be never-ending - the whole point of a challenge that encourages you to write a book in just one month! This are looking especially difficult as you now start preparing for week two of this craziness.

Here are some of the most common walls that are suddenly flying towards you at break-neck NaNoWriMo speed - and how you could deal with them.



1. MUSE ON HOLIDAY
This is probably the most common problem. The one moment your muse can't shut up, and the next you can't find her anywhere. It's enough to drive anyone batty, and once you have to start sitting down and forcing yourself to write, things just don't feel that much 'fun' anymore. The thing to remember, though, is that if you decided to join in NaNoWriMo just for fun, then do something that inspires you to write. Join in a few word sprints - there are several channels on Twitter that run them. One of the most popular (and best in my opinion, what do you think?) is @NaNoWordSprints.

But if you're not doing it for fun, but actually doing it to help drive you to complete your novel - then screw the muse! She'll come back when she realizes you're ignoring her. Just keep on writing! It sounds simple, but I know it's not that easy. So, pick a time every day and set it aside for writing. Don't use it for anything else. As Stephen King says (I warned you that I'd be quoting him a lot!):
“Don't wait for the muse. As I've said, he's a hardheaded guy who's not susceptible to a lot of creative fluttering. This isn't the Ouija board or the spirit-world we're talking about here, but just another job like laying pipe or driving long-haul trucks. Your job is to make sure the muse knows where you're going to be every day from nine 'til noon. or seven 'til three. If he does know, I assure you that sooner or later he'll start showing up.”

2. TOO MUCH MUSE
Yes, this can be a problem - those of you who have experienced this knows what I'm talking about. It's when your muse is active and talking and just won't shut up - about everything other than your novel. She keeps inspiring your poems, your short stories and even when you receive a prompt perfect for your novel... she still tells you about this wonderful flash fiction you just have to write.

Unfortunately, too much muse can get you thinking, leading to...


3.  I-NEED-TO-START-OVER-SYNDROME
With your muse suddenly incapable of even looking in the direction of your novel, you start to assume that your story idea is horrible, and the best thing you can do - despite the fact that your 11 000 words in - is to start over. Maybe you just need an exciting, much more creative plot to write about, and everything will be fine!

But it won't be. You'll give in this time and start your new story. Next week you'll probably be in the same boat, and again the week after. Before you know it, the month is over and you have 3 stories at 10K each. Stay focused, and later you'll find the diamond in the dung.


4. EDIT MODE
Also known as 'OMG-This-is-such-a-great-idea-but-my-writing-smells-like-something-that-died-in-a-sewer!'. Remember me mentioning the Diamond in the Dung hidden in your story? This is what happens if you decide to go looking for it before your story is even done. You just can't help yourself and you start editing. It probably starts small. Maybe just a paragraph.

Then a page.
Then you need to go back to the beginning to make sure everything looks as beautiful as this page.

Next thing you know your NaNoWriMo has gone out the window, and you've started NaNoEdMo - and when you're done with that you'll realize that NaNo is almost over, your story is half complete and your motivation has gone the way of the dodo.

You need to do something very difficult - take your inner editor and LOCK HIM UP. Picture a large empty safe with 10 inch door and a lock that even a super computer can't hack. The safe is buried far underground, in a shelter of some kind with nice big Star WarsTM worthy doors. and there is no exit - it's all underneath a mountain that needs the hand of it's creator - you - to open it.

And you won't. You will be writing. Right now. Go!

Finally, all of this leads to the WORST ONE OF ALL:


6. PROCRASTINATION

The curse of everyone who has something to do, the bane of a writer's existence. It's the unholy offspring of 'Ooh, that looks like fun' and 'Meh, later'. It creeps up on you, then makes you believe it's the best thing in the world. It snuggles up to you, and the next thing you know, the vampiric bastard/bitch has its teeth in your neck and is sucking the life and creativity out of you.

But if you catch him quickly, recovery is possible!


The cure for almost all of the above is to just keep writing. It can be a thousand words or it can be a hundred words. It also helps to talk with others you know who are doing NaNo as well - bounce ideas around, and take a few notes of ideas that pop up in the conversation.

Nanowrimo is a challenge, we all knew that - but isn't that why we signed up?


What do you think? Are there any other challenges you think should be included? Let me know in the comments below!




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