This is another common writing prompt I do, this time with Leslee, coming up with fantastic first story lines. These are mine (we did separate one), but don't expect any stories from them!
The boat bucked in the maw of the seamonster.
The murder of Phineaus Spalding took two minutes to complete.
Maude disrobed in the middle of the venetian plaza to great cheers and applause.
Fink the dog had several unusual hobbies, including the collecting of small fossils.
Steam rose from the tiny body.
The ants skittered over and under the particles of sawdust as they slowly deconstructed James Sealworth, formerly the mayor of Portland.
A five-foot long eel died slowly, writhing in distress as it tried to find it's way out of the rotting corpse.
It was a dark and stormy night when Jesus finally decided to descend from heaven; unfortunately there was no one left on Earth to greet him with adulation.
The woman in the tiled square ululated just before Yosef was forced to behead her in an ancient ceremony that marked his ascension to the group of Fifteen.
Hermano rubbed his side against the grate in an attempt to wrest his skin from his body.
Once upon a time a priest, a rabbi, and a dog walked into an Irish pub, never to be seen again.
After I wrote these (and Leslee suggested that the duck make it out of the pub alive, I realize these are awfully Gorey-esque. Hmmmm. I'm really twisted!
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
The Encounter Group
Note: This was a piece of flash fiction I wrote from a prompt I did with my friend Leslee. We chose entries randomly from a dictionary - this one was "encounter group". My resulting story didn't have much to do with that phrase!
-K. O.
---
The ground was moist, my feet blistered and bleeding -- the water stung. I don't know when I stopped running. I don't know how far the ship was behind me. The memory is slipping away.
In the inky darkness I could here the rhythmic song of frogs. I must have been near a marsh. I stumbled towards the low chirping sounds. It was a sign of something alive, natural.
My hands began to shake. I was back on Earth, but how could I have been away? Where were the others? Had they escaped? Did I escape?
My foot dropped into the marsh, I fell face forward into the stagnate weedy water. Acrid bitter water filled my parched mouth, my tongue finally lubricated. I felt the urge to scream, but the cool night water wrpped around me -- was I naked but for the water? I couldn't remember. The urge to breathe welled up -- but I was too tired. Somehow it felt that the water below was endless, and I began falling.
Something grazed my back -- a frog? It spread out, touched my spine. It spider walked to the base of my skull. The water, I realized it held me in paralysis.
The thing on my back twiched. It was no frog. Fear welled up again. Then it struck. I felt the thing push its way inside my skull. I felt pain press against the inside of my head. The thing actually grunted a low chirp in its effort. By then I was completely numb to any pain there was, my brain detached from the event.
The thing thrust again and again and again, trying to deposit the egg. I thought briefly of my childhood. It was a lifetime ago, so far away. Then I wondered why I didn't need to breathe. The water no longer tasted acrid. There was a sweetness and within it was laced a hint of a pleasant, unidentifiable flavor.
Finally the thing retracted itself, the egg safely in place. It hopped off my back. I floated there face down for several minutes, unable to see or move -- just taste and hear.
The egg hatched and my mind split in a thousand pieces. I was everywhere and nowhere. I began my life here as well as many other planets.
I feel privileged to be back.
-K. O.
---
The ground was moist, my feet blistered and bleeding -- the water stung. I don't know when I stopped running. I don't know how far the ship was behind me. The memory is slipping away.
In the inky darkness I could here the rhythmic song of frogs. I must have been near a marsh. I stumbled towards the low chirping sounds. It was a sign of something alive, natural.
My hands began to shake. I was back on Earth, but how could I have been away? Where were the others? Had they escaped? Did I escape?
My foot dropped into the marsh, I fell face forward into the stagnate weedy water. Acrid bitter water filled my parched mouth, my tongue finally lubricated. I felt the urge to scream, but the cool night water wrpped around me -- was I naked but for the water? I couldn't remember. The urge to breathe welled up -- but I was too tired. Somehow it felt that the water below was endless, and I began falling.
Something grazed my back -- a frog? It spread out, touched my spine. It spider walked to the base of my skull. The water, I realized it held me in paralysis.
The thing on my back twiched. It was no frog. Fear welled up again. Then it struck. I felt the thing push its way inside my skull. I felt pain press against the inside of my head. The thing actually grunted a low chirp in its effort. By then I was completely numb to any pain there was, my brain detached from the event.
The thing thrust again and again and again, trying to deposit the egg. I thought briefly of my childhood. It was a lifetime ago, so far away. Then I wondered why I didn't need to breathe. The water no longer tasted acrid. There was a sweetness and within it was laced a hint of a pleasant, unidentifiable flavor.
Finally the thing retracted itself, the egg safely in place. It hopped off my back. I floated there face down for several minutes, unable to see or move -- just taste and hear.
The egg hatched and my mind split in a thousand pieces. I was everywhere and nowhere. I began my life here as well as many other planets.
I feel privileged to be back.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Spinaker
This technically isn't a complete story, just a fragment I wrote while waiting for the bus into town.
Racquel thought about yesterday's lunch as she clung to the underside of the hull which was now basking in the tropical sunlight like a dead Moby Dick. She had eaten a chicken salad sandwich with capers - the really large ones. She craved the salty taste, and now she was marinating in her favorite brine.
She was alive at least, and there was still the possibility that she could salvage the boat if the ocean ever stopped bucking. It was a strange sight in the calm skies, but the orange horizon at the noon of day told a different story.
The asteroid had been unexpected. Racquel heard no warnings on the radio. It had zoomed overhead with a sonic boom so loud that she lost her hearing for a time. Sound was slowly coming back. She could faintly hear the slapping of the waves against the hull and the fevered cries of birds above as they flew panicked every which way in total geomagnetic confusion.
Racquel thought about yesterday's lunch as she clung to the underside of the hull which was now basking in the tropical sunlight like a dead Moby Dick. She had eaten a chicken salad sandwich with capers - the really large ones. She craved the salty taste, and now she was marinating in her favorite brine.
She was alive at least, and there was still the possibility that she could salvage the boat if the ocean ever stopped bucking. It was a strange sight in the calm skies, but the orange horizon at the noon of day told a different story.
The asteroid had been unexpected. Racquel heard no warnings on the radio. It had zoomed overhead with a sonic boom so loud that she lost her hearing for a time. Sound was slowly coming back. She could faintly hear the slapping of the waves against the hull and the fevered cries of birds above as they flew panicked every which way in total geomagnetic confusion.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Nothing is Memorable
The toenail lay upon the next ridge. Freddy clambored up a carpet fiber to get a better look. In this body he had an insatiable appetite for discarded toenails. Reincarnation is a bitch.
In the last life, Freddy had been a man leaving toenail clippings on the floor. His wife Doreen screamed at him every time she caught him clipping his nails without collecting the bits. It must have bothered her more than he realized because he was sure that she had poisoned him slowly. The last few days he remembered as a man were spent in the hospital with puzzled doctors running all sorts of toxicology tests.
When he woke up he found himself eating his way out of an egg sac. It was a very confusing time. He was shocked to discover that he had six legs. He didn't even want to think back to the time he spent in a pupa metamorphosizing into an adult mite. Euh. Puberty sucks as any species.
His adjustment to a new body had been traumatic, but what had been more shocking was that he was not alone. As a man he had no idea that mites could communicate so well. The form of mite language is hard to describe in human terms, though needless to say it is more advanced and complex. Older mites had told him that the huamn form was the first stage of life for most beings. There was no particular order or hierarchy of beings you could be - after that first primal stage, you reincarnated to learn a specific lesson.
As he swayed gently on the tip of the carpet fiber, Freddy just wished that lesson wasn't as mundane as cleaning up his toe clippings. In the stale air above the carpet he watched his former wife scream at his former body.
In the last life, Freddy had been a man leaving toenail clippings on the floor. His wife Doreen screamed at him every time she caught him clipping his nails without collecting the bits. It must have bothered her more than he realized because he was sure that she had poisoned him slowly. The last few days he remembered as a man were spent in the hospital with puzzled doctors running all sorts of toxicology tests.
When he woke up he found himself eating his way out of an egg sac. It was a very confusing time. He was shocked to discover that he had six legs. He didn't even want to think back to the time he spent in a pupa metamorphosizing into an adult mite. Euh. Puberty sucks as any species.
His adjustment to a new body had been traumatic, but what had been more shocking was that he was not alone. As a man he had no idea that mites could communicate so well. The form of mite language is hard to describe in human terms, though needless to say it is more advanced and complex. Older mites had told him that the huamn form was the first stage of life for most beings. There was no particular order or hierarchy of beings you could be - after that first primal stage, you reincarnated to learn a specific lesson.
As he swayed gently on the tip of the carpet fiber, Freddy just wished that lesson wasn't as mundane as cleaning up his toe clippings. In the stale air above the carpet he watched his former wife scream at his former body.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
The Experiment
This was another extreme protagonist exercise I did with Leslee at Borders. She carefully wrote one good one and I vomited out two so-so ones. I don't think either of my characters are very extreme - they are just in extreme situations. This story is called "The Experiment".
The experiment had gone terribly awry. Joe felt sick to his stomach as he got pulled further into the device. Six months ago he stood in a boardroom trying to justify his research to the CEO. When he found out his department was going to be downsized he ran through the company campus ready to save his baby at all costs.
That dash through the crisp fall air, up until the current moment, had given him the biggest adrenaline rush of his entire life. He was on the verge of a big breakthrough - his name would be infamous. He wasn't going to let those beancounters stand in his way so his flabby legs carried him through on this marathon and he shocked the CEO's personal assistant when he arrived pink-cheeked and rasping.
"I have a matter of the utmost importance to discuss with Mister Smith!" he said it with such authority that she just nodded absentmindedly in her smart green sweater. He straightened his posture and strolled into the CEO's office, fully knowing that he would probably get fired for his moxy. THe CEO stared at the intrusion. Joe stood his ground and presented his case about how the company would stand to make trillions from the new technology.
It was a great moment. It was Joe's best most defining moment. Now he was wondering if it was worth it. Would anyone remember him? They might not even know that he had ever existed. Joe had a lot of time to contemplate this. The parallel world communication device prototype had malfunctioned, sucking him into interdimensional space where reality spaces bumped and glided but where people should never travel.
The experiment had gone terribly awry. Joe felt sick to his stomach as he got pulled further into the device. Six months ago he stood in a boardroom trying to justify his research to the CEO. When he found out his department was going to be downsized he ran through the company campus ready to save his baby at all costs.
That dash through the crisp fall air, up until the current moment, had given him the biggest adrenaline rush of his entire life. He was on the verge of a big breakthrough - his name would be infamous. He wasn't going to let those beancounters stand in his way so his flabby legs carried him through on this marathon and he shocked the CEO's personal assistant when he arrived pink-cheeked and rasping.
"I have a matter of the utmost importance to discuss with Mister Smith!" he said it with such authority that she just nodded absentmindedly in her smart green sweater. He straightened his posture and strolled into the CEO's office, fully knowing that he would probably get fired for his moxy. THe CEO stared at the intrusion. Joe stood his ground and presented his case about how the company would stand to make trillions from the new technology.
It was a great moment. It was Joe's best most defining moment. Now he was wondering if it was worth it. Would anyone remember him? They might not even know that he had ever existed. Joe had a lot of time to contemplate this. The parallel world communication device prototype had malfunctioned, sucking him into interdimensional space where reality spaces bumped and glided but where people should never travel.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Extreme Protagonist
My friend Leslee and I were at Borders thinking about how many of the bestselling novelists write over-the-top characters. We decided to try making extreme protagonists as a writing exercise, and this is my attempt. We limited ourselves to four paragraph stories. Leslee's was way cooler and I told her she could develop a novel from it.
"Where the hell am I?" Its so dark and something smells bad. It smells like something has died. I need to turn the light on - I think I'm going to be sick. Maybe I just need to stand up. Uh. Too much effort. I'll just like here for a moment.
God, I can't remember what happened last night. We were going down to the bar - fuck, I hope I didn't drive back. I probably swerved all over the road. Hmm. Maybe I did. My head hurts - best there is no light afterall. I wonder what time it is. It must still be night.
Have to get up. I can't stand that smell. It's like a skunk died, got eaten by maggots, then the maggots died and got eaten by mini-maggots. Then the mini-maggots - oh fuck I'm going to be sick - I have to - "Rrrrch-"
"Ow!" What the fuck? What is that? What is that, wood? It's right above me! I'm in some sort of box! What the hell happened last night? The wood is covered in something - satin? SATIN? Am I in a coffin? Oh, hell, some sicko has put me in a coffin! My face - oh no - ohnoohnooho - I've been here for a very long time --
"Where the hell am I?" Its so dark and something smells bad. It smells like something has died. I need to turn the light on - I think I'm going to be sick. Maybe I just need to stand up. Uh. Too much effort. I'll just like here for a moment.
God, I can't remember what happened last night. We were going down to the bar - fuck, I hope I didn't drive back. I probably swerved all over the road. Hmm. Maybe I did. My head hurts - best there is no light afterall. I wonder what time it is. It must still be night.
Have to get up. I can't stand that smell. It's like a skunk died, got eaten by maggots, then the maggots died and got eaten by mini-maggots. Then the mini-maggots - oh fuck I'm going to be sick - I have to - "Rrrrch-"
"Ow!" What the fuck? What is that? What is that, wood? It's right above me! I'm in some sort of box! What the hell happened last night? The wood is covered in something - satin? SATIN? Am I in a coffin? Oh, hell, some sicko has put me in a coffin! My face - oh no - ohnoohnooho - I've been here for a very long time --
Sunday, May 27, 2007
First Post: Yay!
Yes, the title is dorky. Essentially I just want to outline the purpose of this blog. This is actually my third blog (well fourth actually, but that's a whole other story), I have my personal blog, my private blog (which only I can see), and now this one. I'm trying to force myself to write more fiction, so I going to try to make it a habit to write one small, original story, everyday. This will be a huge challenge!
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