Tekulo, AZBlue and I will here be brainstorming ideas and discussing details for the upcoming epic we will be collaborating on. Therefore the comments included herein will contain spoilers. YE BE WARNED. Team logo. What do you think? Huh? Huh? Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith
A while back in a dazzling epiphany I got this idea for an epic, but alas I doubt very highly if I should have the time to write it. I'm busy with other, more important literary projects. However, if I find enough interested parties, I'm sure I could find the time to take it in shifts with them to write this. In other words, I'm asking you, my adoring fans harsh critics gullible followers dear friends, if you would like to partake with me in telling a new tale. Now, I admit it's not th
15. Every vote is a word promoting and inspiring the divine arts of literature. Help bring a master of the craft one step closer to the hard-earned glory he deserves! 14. The fact is, your vote counts! Even the best entries might only win by one vote--if they win at all! Do you want terrible entries to win just because they're popular? Do you want to be personally responsible for the next Twilight? 13. You are advocating Unity. 12. It is your Duty. 11. It is your Destiny. 10. You are s
The bane of any writer is the dreaded staunching of the creative energies. The cause of this disease is hard to place. Some say it is indolence. Some say it is tied closely with diet and appetite, and the same things that affect both. Whatever the cause may be, I have developed a surefire, failsafe, foolproof, certifiably success-guaranteed cure to this onerous disease. You will need: - One bed - One pillow - One rope (a sturdy twine will do) Directions: Step 1. Lie on the bed, face up.
I have an announcement that's going to make Kraggh vomit a modicum in his mouth, tear out his hair, and weep uncontrollably for the lamentable prospects of the written word. And while this bit of news may strike terror into the hearts of some, I could probably name a greater number who will be pleased, perhaps a few who would even be thrilled. What am I leading up to? Nuile wrote a novel. And he's publishing it. (Coming 1/12/13) Pattrick Clayton is a farmer in a somnolent Lancaster
Dear readers, I challenge you to a game of chess! Yes, that's right, all of you. At once. How does it work? Simple. I'm black. The rest of you are white. Therefore, if it's white's turn, comment here with your move. Just to be fair, I'll say a given member can not move more than twice in a row. Okay, so this eye test chart below is actually a makeshift chess board. E for empty. N for Knight, because King got K. So on and so forth, see? The bottom right square is A1; the upper right corner is
Simple question. When you're reading a book, how do you feel about accent? What do you like to see, and what do you dislike? Do you prefer to be free from the occasional phonetic spellings? I'd like to hear your thoughts. Or perhaps, "I'd like to heah yore though's." Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith
Those crazy Ambagers are at their writing-off again. This theme was "Rainbow." Polychromatic Frowns Rainbows make me want to cry. Surely you’ve seen one. Surely you’ve seen how dreary they are. They’re big frowns plastered across the sky. And their bright colors are incongruently cheerful. It doesn’t make sense. It’s illogical. Irrationality in nature makes me want to weep. The frown itself is bad enough. It makes me want to frown. But the colors mock my woes and make me want to cry.
As the cover lifts off the precious pages, among the first things you see in any book are the various credits. It is only fair, therefore, as a first order of business to give credit where it is due. For my Premier Membership I owe my thanks entirely to GSR and his giveaway. The drawing ended, as GSR explained to me, with my name in the fourth slot, and there were only three prizes. However, after over two weeks of inactivity and failure to claim his prize, one of the winners was disqualified, a
I'm a writer, after all, and a writer writes. This title is no misnomer. And I figure this will be safer here than in the black hole of Completely Off Topic. So I present, without further ado . . . Guardian Angel I see a sun-bathed field strewn with children, laughing, screaming, running. I see one tag another and backpedal. The new It takes off like a shot. As I watch, two of them give up the game. While the others continue, they sequester themselves in the embrace of a watchful oak
Last time I'll plug this, I promise. The Second Death, Kindle eBook, is free now through January 30th. Get your hands on it now and it's yours to keep forever, yours to read any time your Kindle is handy, and yours to review if you happen to feel munificent and eloquent. ;D Just be sure to let me know so I can give you proper thanks. All right, I'll say no more on the subject. At least not any time soon. Thanks again! Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith
For the past few weeks, cradled gently in the center of a modest web, an arachnid has hung in my writing window. I have watched him, day after day, week after week, setting upon the prey that flies unwittingly into his net, or rocking in the breeze. I have seen the dew drops hang from each glistening strand in the growing sunlight. I have watched the great care with which he tends his home, strengthening and expanding it diurnally with fresh threads of silk, or carefully cutting loose fallen lea
It started out slowly and gained speed as it went along, becoming an exciting tale of espionage. It follows the adventures of one Peter Gudge, whom I can describe as nothing more than a bum, as he by happenstance becomes a spy for big business in "American City" in an attempt to root out Communism. I don't particularly care for the style of Mr. Sinclair, and though it is an interesting story, I personally cannot stand that knavish poltroon the writer calls his protagonist. If my words have
I'll go into greater, more specific details re the purposes of this, which should be essentially self-explanatory, but for the moment I'd like to ask you guys a favor. I merely ask you to look at these two synopses I've drafted and elect your preference. Mix and match if you wish, share your thoughts, let me know if it's the type of synopsis that would entice you to read a book. Thanks! A Mockingbird was a drowsy town in rural Lancaster Pennsylvania, a place where nothing ever happened and
You told me never to play this song again. If promises were LEGO they could seldom be broken, but most promises are composed of that cheap stuff they use to may Happy Meal toys. Besides, I kept my promise not to mention it any time soon. This isn't soon. Worry not; I will keep it brief. The Second Death is now available in paperback from Createspace (preferable) or Amazon for $11.99. Add in shipping and handling, and if you've got about sixteen or seventeen bucks to burn and no Kindle to b
I compiled a list to keep me on track of all my projects that pertain to writing, and I thought I'd share it. On BZP: - Co-host the Ambage - Keep up with SSCC reviews - A long list of "to-reads" - Plan and write Nothing Destined with AZBlue and Tekulo - Post The Last Avatar Elsewhere: - Write a series of mystery puzzles - Script a comic series for an artist - Collaborate on a tongue-in-cheek article on gaming - Write an article on detective fiction - Coordinate a writing club In Life: -
Every now and then, we all feel a little despondence. We lose hope or confidence and we feel down. Especially when we're about to tackle a daunting task, we all have our misgivings. The specific thought that brings this all to mind is National Novel Writing Month. A lot of writers are dedicating themselves to the task of writing a hefty 50,000 words during the course of the ensuing month, and that is no simple task. So for them, for anyone who needs a little inspiration, I offer this poem. I
A great misfortune has this day afflicted the world. I think we can all agree that there is nothing to do in the face of such woe as this but to lament affectionately and honor the deceased. On this day has taken leave of the mortal world one arachnid by the name of Theodore; that's right, that aforementioned spider, one of the insect kingdom's wisest of creatures, one of the most misunderstood forms of life, and one of the most tragic losses to befall this planet. But let us bow to his valian
In checking my notes I found, rather to my disappointment, that I have read little over twenty novels in the past year. Not a very significant number at all, and not a very satisfying one, but there you go. Nothing can be done about it now! The past cannot be changed. But that is the point of this reflection, is it not? Evaluating the past to better plan for the future. To Kill a Mockingbird is easily the best novel I've read this year. I believe I already reviewed it some months ago in early
7. Run through the streets singing Yankee Doodle--all fifteen-or-so verses!--at the top of your lungs. 6. Call everyone you see "comrade." 5. Remind everyone how this day is a day of remembering and honoring our belligerent founding fathers' disrespect for authority. 4. Mail letters to all your British friends--gloating! 3. Write a short story about a professional baseball player. Then, reveal it to be nothing but a young boy's daydream, suddenly shattered when he hits a baseball through a windo
So somebody's been gossiping behind my back, saying I should write something like this. =P Well, I'm not much of a poet, but as far as I could tell there was no rhyme nor reason to that, nor any metrical structure. I'm probably wrong, but I know precious little of poetry anyway, and so I will leave it up to you to tell me whether this is a poem or not. Fifteen minutes of trying something like the previously mentioned poem, and this was the result: Pain and sorrow let loose to kill, Joy and bl
(The title is longer than the entry.) For those who aren't aware of it, Hahli Husky is currently hosting the second BZPower Library Summer Olympics. The short story competitions, with a branch each in COT and the Library, are now open for entry, lasting until the 24th of August. I strongly encourage you--yes, you, right there, and don't you think that I don't know who you are--to enter, because sadly this contest has been pretty quiet, nothing like the last. And after all, I can't win witho
Eleven years. Was it really that long ago? . . . And yet, was it truly so recent? Eleven years. I was a mere child. I had no idea what was going on. It didn't affect me. Now I look back, I recollect the memories of others; and I think. I wonder: What are we really remembering here? An evil deed. A horrific tragedy. A good deed. A great wonder. An evil deed. I won't delve into that. Iniquitous men sacrificed themselves for their beliefs; it's a twisted act of distorted heroism. But while
