Category Archives: Uncategorized

Flash Fiction: Shaggy Cat Story

Sharpclaw Invincible opened his eyes. He could smell them in the air again, already.  This was the earliest they had woken him up in a long time, but he couldn’t afford to roll over and go back to sleep, no matter how warm the Human was today. He grumbled and meowed a little, and then stretched and jumped off the bed.

Some mornings they made it easy for him, but he didn’t think today was going to be one of those days. The bedroom was a cacophony of scent and smelled of sleep, food, and Human. Whenever it didn’t clean the room, Sharpclaw had trouble telling if there was anything in the room he should worry about. This morning, the cloud of smell coming off of the pile of laundry nearly obliterated his nose, but after he stepped on the dirty clothes a few times and pawed at them, he couldn’t find anything hiding that he needed to destroy, so he padded away into the kitchen. There was no sense in just sitting around licking himself if there was food to be eaten.

There was still a little of the crunchy food left from dinner, and he started munching on that, after getting a drink from the dog’s water dish. For some reason the dog’s water bowl always tasted better than his. He was pretty sure it was a conspiracy, and if the Human were smart enough to understand, he would have long since talked to it about that. On the other hand, he’d seen what the dog did to the litterbox, so he didn’t really think he had anything to complain about.

He had just about finished eating when he saw a flash of violet out of the corner of his eye. He kept chewing but he was alert, and he slowly moved his head until he was almost looking straight at the purple urple. At the same moment, he smelled another one behind him, coming in through the window, one of their usual bolt holes. They were being smart this morning. Send in a distraction, and then while he was busy, bring in the main attack force. The last time they had gotten through his defenses, they had probably done the exact same thing.

He continued staring at the purple urple crawling through a crack in the baseboard, and then, without so much as a twitch, he jumped straight back and landed on the one behind him.

It screamed, a horrible high-pitched squeal that was almost too high to hear, and wrapped its whipsaw tail back and forth, trying to get a grip, but this was not Sharpclaw’s first trip to the litterbox. The new one stared in horror as he made quick work of the intruder and kicked what was left to the side of the room. Then he raced forward and attacked.

When he’d finally taken care of them, and two of their friends (he’d had to race clear across the front room to grab one before it escaped) he could hear the Human up and making noise in the bedroom. He caught his breath and walked over in that direction. Just before he got to the bed, a scent of purple urple hit his nose, and he realised that he still had some of their blood on his fur. The Human never seemed to notice, but Sharpclaw still thought it was safest to wash it off anyway. When he finished, the Human was sitting up in the bed, holding one of its books, and looking at him.

“You woke me up, Billy,” it said to him. “Sounded like you were running the triathlon out there.”

The noises didn’t mean much since it spoke such a primitive language and was obviously handicapped in its ability to speak a proper tongue… imagine, having only two paws to gesture with, and no tail! But he jumped up on the bed and sat next to him, anyway. It took one hand off its book and ran it idly down Sharpclaw’s back.

When he’d first moved in with this Human, he hadn’t realised how bad an infestation of purple urples it had, and it didn’t even seem to care. He was a little lax at first about killing them all, but when a group of three or four made it to the Human one morning, it was sick for over a week. Sharpclaw had to suffer through late or missing meals, a dirty floor, and being almost completely ignored by it before he realised that he couldn’t let any of those evil demons through. It was a hard job, but it was nice to have food and a roof, and a warm place to sleep.

The smell of purple urple hit his nose again, and he whipped his head around. One had gotten through, or hidden, or ran too fast for him to see, and now it was slithering around and up the Human’s arm. Luckily, he had seen the critter when he did, and one quick bite at it ripped it in half and sent it back to wherever they came from.

“Ow, Billy!” the Human said, and rubbed his arm with the hand that held the book. “Fine, I won’t pet you then.” He didn’t sound too mad, though, and Sharpclaw was able to finish washing himself in the warm spot on the bed.

It was going to be a good day.

 

 

How Long Does It Take to Read Popular Books?

This is a neat infographic from Personal Creations. Not much more has to be said about it, though if anyone has comments, please feel free. I personally estimate 50 pages an hour when I’m deciding how long it will take me to read something, though I can skim/ review half again as fast. I think I used to be able to read faster, but I also know I get more enjoyment out of my reading than I used to. I’m not quite as compulsive about it as I used to be, either. Once there was a time where if I were trapped somewhere without a book I would actually start to panic a little. Now, I just sketch down story ideas.

Also, what books/ series would you like to see on here? I’d ask for Infinite Jest (counting the footnotes, and time spent going back and forth to them… by the way, that’s one of the few books I’ve bought in paper and e-book format, and I can definitely recommend the e-book over paper copy, mostly because of its hypertext format but also because you don’t have to read the footnotes in their 8-point type) and Remembrance of Things Past, though I’m not sure either of them really qualify as ‘popular.’

Here it is:

How Long Does It Take to Read Popular Books?

 

Inspiration Tuesday

Well, I have a few things to talk about for Inspiration Tuesday, today. First, I’m at work trying to keep the rash at bay but otherwise doing alright. I’m next to positive that it’s not contagious; I think my guinea pigs… err, roommates would have noticed by now. Still not sure what’s causing it, and the itching is only getting worse. In fact, the picture below, blatantly stolen from Weird Tales’ Facebook feed…

…is an example of how I’m afraid I’ll look after I’ve scratched my face off completely.

Inspiration has been showing up in the strangest places, lately, not just below the rock in my back yard where the writing Elves usually hide my week’s worth of ideas. This week’s story is about a street magician, and it’s a fantasy story in the sense that I always wanted to be at least a sleight-of-hand artist, if not a magician, when I was younger. (By younger, I’m including last Friday, when I found three balls of about juggling size and decided to show off to the cat. She still won’t speak to me.) And even though my efforts to learn to palm cards and double-deal and produce coins led to nothing more than my own image in the mirror doubling up and laughing at my practice, I kept trying, and kept thinking about it. A few days ago, a regular character strolled on to my stage, one with a rather tragic story that he was trying to escape from, and in her attempts to give him a backstory, my Muse found my old copy of Huggard and Braue’s Expert Card Technique and, well, poof, my character was made flesh.

In a way, I suppose it is like stage magic. I clasp my hands, smile, proclaim to the audience that I have nothing up my sleeves or between my ears, and then out of nothing, a group of people are walking and talking and sharing their stories with the rest of the world. Maybe I did learn sleight-of-hand after all.

Though I still would love to do a good Four Aces trick.

Story 3/52: Double Nickels and Dimed

My first foray (in the 52 Story Project, at least) into social science fiction. I do like hard technical sci-fi such as that produced by Iain M Banks or Jerry Pournelle, but writers like Philip K Dick, Samuel R Delaney, and John Brunner are the ones who truly trapped me in the field of Future Perfect Fiction.

Double Nickels and Dimed

Like the story? Share it! Every person who shares a link from The 52 Story Project gets a free… umm, the free satisfaction of knowing that you shared my story with the world.

Story 2/52: The Occasional Suicides of Daniel Birkin

Happy Thursday, and as promised, here is another story for your reading pleasure. Or if you hate reading, here is another story to fulfill your masochistic needs for morning torture. It’s about half the length of last week’s, and it’s in a form I haven’t played with as much as I’d like to.

Story 2/52:  The Occasional Suicides of Daniel Birkin

And if you missed last week’s, it’s over here, and it actually has a title, now.

I almost titled this post Story 1/26, since I have a problem with fractions not in their lowest terms. Still, it’s nice knowing that I’m 1/26th of the way through my project.

Poetry Monday: Second-Hand

It’s not that I didn’t like the shirt
Just,
It’s not something I would have bought for myself
But that wasn’t as important as
Knowing that you’d found it for me
that you were thinking of me
(though God only knows what you were thinking)
and I would wear it
with and without you
so you would know I was,
at least
thinking of you thinking of me

I could never get rid of it
and I hauled it from house to house
When we’d pull it out of the box, we’d think of it again
and of each other

But it hasn’t been worn for four years, now
Like everything else,
It’s time to find it a new home

And a new life
New thoughts to be thought about it
Until it’s too heavy to rest on one’s shoulders
Without dragging them to the dirt.

Poetry Monday: 2nd Draft

I’ve decided to take the plunge and write a poem a day this year. I’m still less than a week into it, but here is one of them from a couple of days ago. It fits in well with the theme of this blog, I think. I’ve also been meaning to get back to writing poetry, since it was my first love as a writer. (My first as a reader was fantasy fiction… which is why I write it, I think.)

2nd Draft

Writing is editing, cutting, burning.
Pouring out words, anyone can do
No cure yet for logorrhea
Nor should there be. But playtime’s over, friend.

Pull out the knife, bless its steel
Pare away from your work
Slice away the distracting, vestigial parts
No matter how savory, sensual they are

Remove everything that gets in the way
Sculpt, remake the natural chaos
Under your tools, discover anew
The perfection from your muse

Nothing in excess shall remain
And the artist, as self-created
Work, shall exhibit
The stripped-down perfection of art

Focused on Fiction: Five Storytelling Tips

Reblogged from The Daily Post:

Click to visit the original post

  • Click to visit the original post

November — and with it, NaNoWriMo — might be drawing to a close, but fiction writers don’t stop telling stories just because another page is torn from the calendar. And whatever the season, slapping sentences into a compelling narrative is never easy.

We’ve all heard the common axioms recited to writers everywhere: “Write everyday!” “Show, don’t tell!” “Write about what you know!” Sometimes, though, it’s a good idea to try something different to get the creative juices flowing in new directions.

Read more… 891 more words

from Stark Writing Crazy http://cjcasey.wordpress.com/2013/11/27/focused-on-fiction-five-storytelling-tips/
via IFTTT

Focused on Fiction: Five Storytelling Tips

Reblogged from The Daily Post:

Click to visit the original post

  • Click to visit the original post

November — and with it, NaNoWriMo — might be drawing to a close, but fiction writers don’t stop telling stories just because another page is torn from the calendar. And whatever the season, slapping sentences into a compelling narrative is never easy.

We’ve all heard the common axioms recited to writers everywhere: “Write everyday!” “Show, don’t tell!” “Write about what you know!” Sometimes, though, it’s a good idea to try something different to get the creative juices flowing in new directions.

Read more… 891 more words

from Stark Writing Crazy http://cjcasey.wordpress.com/2013/11/27/focused-on-fiction-five-storytelling-tips/
via IFTTT