The Daily Post 11: “Climate Control”




I’m actually doing one of these BEFORE midnight! Which means I might actually get it done and not fall asleep in a lump!


Have fun~







I definitely say that climate has some kind of effect on people’s moods. I mean, ba-dur. It doesn’t have to make any kind of consistent sense, though. Like how some people love hot summer days and I think that just outside of the window is the world slowly being baked to death beneath the unflinching fire of the sun. So to heck with that, time to completely steer myself away from this original point!

So I prefer to think about how weather can affect your thought processes and imaginations. Like how storms for me charge up something deeper and more brutally natural about the world. So, I’m further developing a philosophical trend of thought for a novel/novel pair of mine that involves the trinity of Machine, Sentience, and Nature and Nature certainly isn’t the way we like to think about it on our padded modern world. Nature, as we like to think of it now, can be easily corralled and persuaded to move or be removed so it can fit neatly into our little gardens or groves out behind our homes and other nice stuff like that. When in reality, if nature had its way, it would tear off our faces and wear them as trophies after sucking all the nutrients from our brains, of course. So when I see stuff like thunderstorms and droughts and snowstorms and hurricanes, I can’t help but be reminded just what the ruling of the world’s natural order is:

Humanity likes to think it’s at the top because of its creation of machines that allow it to survive the natural world. And yet, without that assistance, humanity would be consumed in an afternoon by a system that doesn’t care if it lives or die. Nature doesn’t care for art or culture or great legacies because it created all of those things in its earthy, pulsing womb. All that has been created or ever will be created is the product of the natural forces around us that provided all of the atoms and materials and the laws of physics and energy that makes every one of our human creations (from the material to the imaginative and existential). Again, when I see storms blasting bolts of sky-splitting energy or a rainstorm turning a desert into an ocean of flowers (Have you seen those Atacama Desert pictures? That’s what I’m talking about!), it makes me realize just how tiny we humans still are, even with all of our machines. Everything that we make seems to have an edge of disdain for it- disdain for the natural world that seeks to disempower and unmake us at every turn. I suppose that’s something that we humans can be thanked for, the feeling of scorn that drives us to pursue progress at an almost homicidal rate just to ensure that we aren’t subsumed by a force that can crack the freaking sky open with a flick of its finger.

I think I had an ultimate point I was going to try to get at with all of this but now I’m afraid I’ve lost it. Oh well, that’s part of the fun of doing these- the point arises from the process. It also helps that this is usually how I make my little diatribes. I usually just make noise and say things until I realize there was a point there all along that I just wasn’t able to see.

I suppose I could say here that it’s not just weather that affects our moods but our moods affect how weather appears in our eyes- from something to be afraid of or annoyed back to something from which all awe and self-reflection as a person and as a species springs.

If that was all a bit too high-brow of you, here’s a stupid thing I made up recently:

Being killed by Satan should now is called (by me and nobody else ever), “brimstoning.”






<a href="">Climate Control</a>



There was another dumb thing I made up that I wanted to add up there but then I forgot it. You’ll be spared, readers, this time.



Good luck, you brave writer folk!







Friday Fictioneers: “Old, Familiar World”




I feel like I’m obligated to write something about Thanksgiving this time around. It’s a shame I don’t also feel obligated to submit these darn things on time!


Have fun~




Image Copyright: Sandra Crook
Image Copyright: Sandra Crook


Title: Old, Familiar World

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100


When I was a boy, a ship carrying my family, a wolf-eyed father and a mother with dawn in her hair, departed for the sunset horizon. I was to wait until the New World was ‘settled and civilized.’

Thus I watched for the ship from a grassy seaside cliff every day.

Years passed and not even the gout stopped me from climbing the cliff. I came less often after I was wed. And even less after my son was born. I promised to never leave them for new worlds— no family should have to wait like widows on a watch.






For those who are wondering, I didn’t actually have a historical ship in mind when I made this. Just any old early England/Ireland-to New World voyage where everybody died because of the cold/the Yetis/Odin cultists. Not like that narrows it down any.




Good luck, you brave writer folk!




Daily Prompt 7: “Trains, Planes, and Automobiles.”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Trains, Planes, and Automobiles.”




Unemployment is strangely liberating in the opportunities it provides.


Have fun~



Title: “Trains, Planes, and Automobiles.”

Prompt: “You’re going on a cross-country trip. Airplane, train, bus, or car? (Or something else entirely — bike? Hot air balloon?)”


Short answer: Train.

Long Answer: TRAIN.


I love trains, always have. As a child, I wanted to be a train conductor as my dream job. All those stupid kids wanting to be astronauts and doctors and stuff. Me, I just wanted to ride trains. There’s something utterly delightful about riding a train. It’s not so claustrophobic or security-obsessed as a plane and it’s not nearly so loud or disorienting. You get to see the countryside zip past you without having to drive or do any real work on your own. It’s a magical kind of feeling for me, to be honest. I usually take a trip down to Chicago once every two months or so (depends, sometimes its more like once a month) and I always look forward to the train rides going down there and coming back. I love listening to the other passenger’s conversations (which is like eavesdropping but I almost immediately forget what was said a day or two later [unless its drunk teenagers/college kids. That stuff’s gold in word form]) and letting the whole of the visible world roll by.


Which also means I actually get to look at the towns and people as we pass them. Gives me a bit of a perspective shift when I see all of the places I pass in a train, even just doing down to Chicago. The main thing I’ve realized about this all is that the world is really freaking big.


Like, there are three things I don’t get from people:

  1. When asked, “Did it all seem to go quickly?” about my college career, my answer of “heck no,” usually surprises people. I mean, four years in which I radically changed (for the better [?]) as a person alongside making all-new friends and learning something new every single day, can hardly pass in a wink. Freshman year seems a lifetime ago already.

2. Being told that, because of the internet, the world seems so much smaller now. If anything, the world’s bigger now than ever before. When you go onto Wikipedia and realize that there are thousands (if not millions) of articles that’s just extremely truncated information on incredibly complex and complicated topics, you can kind of realize just how giant the world is. Or how going from Illinois to India by plane takes the greater part of a day? Realizing how long a day really is and how fast you’re going in a plane and the world just grows exponentially in size in my head.

3. No, inquisitive old people, I never went to any sports games while at college. Except for half a basketball game once. Which was actually pretty fun. Still! Do I look like a sportsy person to you?


Fun Fact: I want my wedding to be a train. One with multiple cars so the reception can be held and then the food and all that can be in a different room and then we can even sleep on it. Since I’ve always wanted to do that. I’ll just have to convince my partner to be okay with having a less-than-traditional wedding night.

Besides, then I can say to my partner, “I never want to get off of our crazy train.”

Provided the entire audience isn’t killed with the blunt trauma of that pun, I’d consider that line al

one worth the whole affair.







<a href="">Trains, Planes, and Automobiles</a>



Is it normal to become really sleepy and distracted all the sudden when reading something that you’re totally not interested in? Like, even if its a three-sentence-long (and not MY kind of paragraph-long sentences, either) email? Because boy does it happen a lot to me.


Good luck, you brave writer folk!






Daily Prompt 6: “Million-Dollar Question”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Million-Dollar Question.”




I usually don’t write during the daytime but doing blog stuff then instead of at night when I’m doing my novel-writing really seems to help me get out of bed and start making the most of my time.

Oh hey, it’s a Daily Prompt about why we do blog writing! How fortuitous!


Have fun~



Title: Million Dollar Question

Prompt: “Why do you blog?”



Interesting question, Paranoid Guy, whoever that is! In an attempt to be more candid and outwardly honest in my life, I’m going to be as frank as possible.


I blog is that I can hopefully drive more traffic to my books and other, much larger, creative works. There, I said/typed it and now it’s been breathed into the world. I think I actually started this blog to talk about NaNoWriMo, which I’m fittingly about to start doing again. Since then and since I started to write more books and get out there in the literary world, I wanted to turn my blog into some kind of useful marketing tool.


Now, that’s how it all started. And it still remains as part of the reason why I do what I do here on the blog, but I think I’ve come to realize that having people who look at blog posts doesn’t really equate to sales or even publicity. I remember talking to an alum from my school, Illinois Wesleyan University, and he said that even though he has a blog that gets thousands of hits, a minuscule percent (no exact numbers given) of those who visit actually buy this books.


So that dream, like many others, is heavily sleeping or hovering somewhere near death.

Anyway, onto slightly more cheery things!


Such as how my blog gives me a place to stretch my literary legs. I find doing flash fiction and short stories to be relatively cathartic and a kind of writing challenge that I wouldn’t normally partake in. I’m a novel-centric kind of person who also dabbles in video games and screenplay writing, but flash fiction and short stories never quite appealed to me. So giving myself a challenge in this way, especially when I also have a deadline (sometimes very aggressive ones such as with Flash! Friday), can be quite refreshing. There is something to be said about getting writerly fatigue when you’re working with a 100,000 word novel. Writing something short, easily digestible, but still creative can really free up the muscles of the mind and help you see things i new and imaginative ways.


I honestly do think that doing all of this flash fiction has helped me with having better control of my pacing in my stories, something that I oftentimes struggle with since I like spending so much time showing how my characters view the world, even if its stopping them from going out and seeing said world. Besides, if I can turn my writing skills to new avenues and reach more people, even if it doesn’t get me any more sales or publicity, there’s certainly no harm in that. I’m actually working on my grad school applications to become an assistant teacher as I type this and I think what I mention in there, such as how writing can not only be very liberating and illuminating for the writer but when ideas transcend the pages and start to influence other people’s lives, it can really show just how much power a collection of scribbled shapes on paper can really have.


Do I think that my flash fiction, so easily and quickly consumed and forgotten, can really change people’s lives in the same way that a novel can? Nah, not really.


But that’s why I’m still a novelist!


And then there’s Lorequest.

I decided to accidentally make my most (by a huge margin) viewed section of content almost entirely out of mass speculation and guessing at the inner workings of fictional worlds. How ironic that I decided to start Lorequest completely for fun and just for my own enjoyment and for the enjoyment of the passing enthusiast of whichever game I happen to be talking about and then it went on to become a huge percentage (over 1,000 views in this year alone) of the amount of activity I get on my blog. Even stranger is that its totally unrelated to any of my own fiction writing since I’m more of an archaeologist when I do Lorequest than any kind of storyteller.


But hey, I like it and people seem to like it so why stop? So long as I don’t get the pants sued off of me for talking about the vidjagames, I shall keep on questing for the lore!


And I might as well keep doing the other stuff too since it always does my heart good to hear people enjoying my stuff. Literature can bring people together, even from across our social-media-maze of a world. And that’s really kind of awesome.







<a href="">Million-Dollar Question</a>



Boy I really should get onto doing those NaNoWriMo posts… I have to stop writing my NaNoWriMo story first though. And that’s just unreasonable.


Good luck, you brave writer folk!





Daily Prompt 5: “Snark Bombs, Away!”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Snark Bombs, Away!.”




I accidentally read this prompt as “Shark Bombs, Away!” and I thought it’d be about stupid amazing super villain weapons. Normally, I’d just do what I want anyway and proclaim my authorial independence but this time I’ll play along.

This compliance to your will shall not last, Daily Prompt…


Have fun~



Title: Snark Bombs, Away!


Prompt: “Try your hand at parody or satire — take an article, film, blog post, or song you find misguided, and use humor to show us how.”


I stand before you today, well, stand is just metaphorically speaking. I’m actually lording over these press bandits beneath me and am presenting myself as standing to you mere mortals viewing me from your smartphones and televisions. Stop picking your nose. You know who I’m talking to. Don’t think we can’t see you. It’s disgusting and morally corroding our society.


Now then. On the matter of the war.


There has been dissent concern that our nation’s method of “peace through war” is “Orwellian” or “pants-crappingly-terrifying.” Well, I’m here to lay these fears to rest. Right at your feet. Still writhing and gasping for life despite the futility of it all. Get used to the image, my people. All of these fears are just what the enemy wants you to think. They want you to compromise and become trouble with burdens of humanity and universal unity of our species. But when you look at the face of a child that hasn’t eaten for days and is desperately searching for his parents amongst the rubble of his bombed city, how can you feel nothing but rage? Rage will make us strong. Fear will make us wary. And wariness will ensure that no terrorist, conqueror, or Putin will break out spirits- because our spirit will be divided amongst the hundreds of millions of people in this country.


Every man will, so to speak, become an island. Isolated from global humanity and any hope of universal harmony. And that, my people, is how we win.


With each bomb we manufacture we condemn another family to misery (but who cares, they’re foreign, all the way across the big bad world!) and we get to boost taxes war contributions and keep… dropping more bombs!


Stay away from those blackboards you damn math nerds! And keep away from those dictionaries, blasted Liberal Arts professors! There’ll be no need to invoke the big bad D-word today. We always have enough money when we have people’s lives to ruin.


That’s what money’s made for, right?


Now, who has quesiton- Who’s a big dumb rube that can kiss my backside?


Oh, look at you with all of your hands up. How embarrassing.






I bet this was all just a clever ploy by Stalin to lead us dissenting elements out of the shadows and onto the anonymous labyrinthine internet. The old mustached bastard may not have thought that over too well.


Oh and also, he’s dead. I just felt on picking on Stalin today. It’s not a common occurrence, surprisingly.



Good luck, you brave writer folk!




Daily Prompt 4: “By the Dots”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “By the Dots.”




I think I’ve been meaning to do one of these for a while but nope, just getting to it now. I really wanted to do that magical creature one but decided that extrapolating on a fantasy magic system I devised surrounding the power of words in a novel being transformed into real spell power (nepotism, you say? What’s that?!).


Maybe one day!



Have fun~



Title: By the Dots


Prompt: “We all have strange relationships with punctuation — do you overuse exclamation marks? Do you avoid semicolons like the plague? What type of punctuation could you never live without? Tell us all about your punctuation quirks!”


It’s really no surprise that I love dashes. These “-” and these “—” are brilliant little buggers. I always just use them as a kind of escape mechanism to make any kind of sentence I like- for instance I can just fashion other sentences onto earlier ones to make them seem like they’re conjoined but semicolons are far too rare for my liking. Besides, “-” lets me make snide remarks whenever I feel like it. Given that’s how I talk, just with more stuttering while my brain tries to find the right words and more mumbling as I make said remarks, it just seems natural to me. And I love to write as I talk because it lets me be unrealistically accurate with what I’m trying to say in conversation and I get to reach an audience where I won’t constantly be interrupted by the world around me as I’m wont to be!


Oh I love commas, too. Did I even need to put a comma in that last sentence? Who even knows!? I certainly don’t. But that’s part of the fun for me as a writer and for my editors. They have to work for their money to weed out all of the ill-placed and poorly-used commas! If they can survive the comma jungle then they can say they have edited something of mine.


Plus my drive to write dialogue in a such a way that it seems as realistic as possible helps, too. I really want to write a book one day where most conversations have at least one “um,” like,” or “er,” in them. Because that’s what we all talk like, right? Well, at least we young’uns do. And doing that in my medieval books would just seem weird if it was as prevalent as it would be in a more “modern” book. Even though people were far less educated back then, it just seems wrong to foul up their language- or I’m just overthinking it.


But I still managed to sneak that “-” in there after all!

Yeah, this’ll do.






I probably could have included italicizing and bolding as things I do way too often, too. But those technically aren’t punctuations, even though I use them to establish EMPHASIS. See how much more effective that was? The caps-lock was just added for special effect.


It may have also made you just read that in Josh Peck’s voice if you’re one of my contemporaries.


You’re welcome, by the way.




<a href="">By the Dots</a>


Good luck, you brave writer folk!





Daily Prompt 3: “Right to Brag”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Right to Brag.”




I’ve got 30 minutes before today’s done, making this Daily Prompt, by and large for no real reason aside from my arbitrary adherence to the space-time continuum, no longer relevant very soon.


Have fun~



Title: Right to Brag


Prompt: “Tell us about something you (or a person close to you) have done recently (or not so recently) that has made you really, unabashedly proud.”



Well, this one’s simple isn’t it? I normally don’t take pride in all of what I do or have done in life simply because if it’s worth being prideful over, it’ll have to be something truly great. And I’m only 22 years old with nary a scratch made into the world. Everything up until this point has just been what was expected of me. I finished High School, went to College, did very well in college (probably better than anyone would have dared hope), and met friends, helped people, had a couple relationships, did dumb and smart things, and generally made a normal mess of life as people are wont to do.


But you know what nobody told me to do? Nobody told me to write a book for my final assignment in my 301 Fiction Writing class. See, I could have put instead that I’m proud of my actual publishing of said book after editing it for a couple of months. Or I could have put that my fiction defence thesis went beautifully in my senior year of undergraduate and that I’m set to release my next book in maybe a month or so.


But nah, I’m choosing to focus on when I was asked to write “30 double-space pages, give or take a few” for my final assignment of 301 Fiction Writing in my junior year of undergraduate. And, like some gremlin meant to torment my poor creative writing teacher (this would be my third and final class taught by her), I handed in 124 pages totaling to a very messy and very ramshackle novella.


I got an A- on the assignment, by the way owing to my general lack of editing. And this was after spending no fewer than 9 hours on one day reading the entire thing from beginning to end and fixing whatever I saw. But fair’s square, I take the grade. Because, like that old stupid saying goes:


“When I say ‘jump,’ you-”


“Sorry, can’t hear you, I’ve already leapt clear through the ceiling.”


I may have paraphrased that a little.


Yes, the original state of Garamoush was ramshackle and held together naught but sheer ambition and imagination but dammit I felt proud (and exhausted, having turned it in only about two minutes before the final deadline) when I held those 124 pages in my hand and they weighed with a weight that I had never known before. It was the weight of accomplishment, of doing something that somebody had asked for in my own way and to my own level of quality and quantity. It was a work entirely wrought from my mind with my hands that could floor everything else I had ever created up until that point.


But see, I knew that it was better than anything else I had ever done. Usually I simply speculate on the importance of works or projects or wonder what greater role they place. That first state of Garamoush helped to define the next couple years of my life and sent me off on a path that I could have only started on if I threw myself up and out through that ceiling with caution to the wind and reckless abandon to assault my professor with tormenting nightmares of grading.


She liked me as a student, though! She sat on my council of literary judgement one year later and gave me a glowing (I assume) acceptance for my research honours thesis.


Or maybe she just wanted me out of her hair.


Until I emailed her about getting letters of recommendation for grad school!


She’ll never be free of me! Never.






Minutes to spare and I’ll I’ve got to do is write a lame little outro. I got this!


So now that’s my cue to start dawdling and wandering into any given Wiki site and emerge three days later with a huge beard and much more knowledge about the state of the Undercity or the political structure of the Imperium of Man than any human ever should.


Above and beyond, right?





<a href="">Right to Brag</a>



Good luck, you brave writer folk!