Everyone has them, so we needs a thread for it :)
I'll start, with this small bit written 10 minutes ago:
Adwyn stopped, looking around at other doors in puzzlement. "Guards?"
"Oh, we don't post any guards in the diplomatic quarters." Watkin chuckled. "That would discourage the dignitaries from plotting and murdering each other, and we can't have that."
----------
Member of SFFmuse
Nano #1 done at 62,857. #2 (the sequel) starting soon....




50,085 / 50,000
Nov 9, 2007 - 01 15
Silly dignitaries, being discouraged by a little thing like guards. Hehe
I wrote this one yesterday, it isn't as random as you might think...but nearly:
"Yep, and it is certainly not a swallow. You have a bat on your back, a small brown one to be exact."
50,204 / 50,000
Nov 9, 2007 - 01 21
I think this is probably my favorite bit of non-dialogue writing... I have another favorite out of the regular story (this is part of the prologue) but its about twice as long so I figured I'd just post the one:
Her amusement turned to horror in a single terrifying instant when she saw the riders. Dust plumed behind them like the crest of a bird as they bore down on the woman and child. Her lover burst from between the huts and snatched her in his arms, pushing her as far from the thundering hooves as he could. She picked up her feet and sprinted when she realized it was he who rescued her, and silently mourned the child whose skull was being crushed by the war beasts. There would be other children, but she must be the one who would be alive to birth them. Whoops of maniacal laughter followed them, and soon after, the riders themselves.
The woman continued to run long after her husband was speared down in his flight, but his final sounds rang in her ears until she reached the cavern. She felt his death like she felt the brutal rays of the sun caressing her flesh.
Leagues away, a scout was racing towards the Trading City on his mount. He had seen the riders coming from his position far from the homeland, but he knew he would not be able to reach the village in time. The City was closer; the City was near. The man in the City would save those who were left.
He repeated the words like a mantra, recycling the phrases in his mind until he believed he would dream them for the rest of his nights. He then began to speak them aloud, so he might remember them every one of his days. And when his throat was too dry and he could no longer make a sound, the drumming of the beast’s gait said it for him.
The City was closer.
The City is near.
The man in the City…
I love yours, Alcar! Made me laugh. ;)
7,744 / 50,000
Nov 9, 2007 - 10 27
well, since i've researched/written/submitted 5 moderately sized papers and 3 shorter papers since NaNo began, I guesstimate that i've written about 20,000-25,000 words...
too bad none of it has anything to do with my story... as evident by the shiny '0 words' in my wordcount bar ;)
...Unless I can somehow work up a story about Ban Chiang pottery, art criticism during the Baroque period, Carracci and Caravaggio, How Riel Manywounds uses art as activism to connect with Native youths in Canada/USA/Mexico/Australia via an online community and magazine, Edith Ratna (a modern Indonesian artist) and 3 short papers critiquing various writers/textbooks.
...i think a story involving all of that would be more random than anything you could write Liosis ;)
that sparrow and the bat made me laugh... Jek?
sigh... now i must start research for my 15 page (min) paper... or maybe i should work on the shorter one first...
i'm glad everyone seems to be having fun!! and i hope you keep posting pieces so i can read something fun :)
jh
113,371 / 50,000
Nov 9, 2007 - 13 51
Her amusement turned to horror in a single terrifying instant when she saw the riders. Dust plumed behind them like the crest of a bird as they bore down on the woman and child. Her lover burst from between the huts and snatched her in his arms, pushing her as far from the thundering hooves as he could. She picked up her feet and sprinted when she realized it was he who rescued her, and silently mourned the child whose skull was being crushed by the war beasts. There would be other children, but she must be the one who would be alive to birth them. Whoops of maniacal laughter followed them, and soon after, the riders themselves.
The woman continued to run long after her husband was speared down in his flight, but his final sounds rang in her ears until she reached the cavern. She felt his death like she felt the brutal rays of the sun caressing her flesh.
Leagues away, a scout was racing towards the Trading City on his mount. He had seen the riders coming from his position far from the homeland, but he knew he would not be able to reach the village in time. The City was closer; the City was near. The man in the City would save those who were left.
He repeated the words like a mantra, recycling the phrases in his mind until he believed he would dream them for the rest of his nights. He then began to speak them aloud, so he might remember them every one of his days. And when his throat was too dry and he could no longer make a sound, the drumming of the beast’s gait said it for him.
The City was closer.
The City is near.
The man in the City…
Okay, now I want to know who he is -- really neat prologue.
50,204 / 50,000
Nov 9, 2007 - 16 49
Yay, I hooked someone!
*twiddles thumbs* Thank you. ;)
50,049 / 50,000
Nov 9, 2007 - 17 02
These are probably my favorite two paragraphs (That don't have a gaggle of swears accompanying them like my one character enjoys).
First
The human’s brow wrinkled, his eyes closed. He began humming, a sad, lonely song. Between pursed lips his soul threw up it’s sadness, leaked it through the hole, so small, so insignificant, and it blazed throughout the room, into my ears, into my heart. The human hummed songs of another time, before this place existed, and I understood. The song wasn’t of my forest, nor was it of misery, the song was about a place, a place you try to get to, a place you know but can’t find. A place that speaks to you, that floods your dreams and haunts your steps. The human’s song was about defeat, about losing, about not knowing how to go back.
Second (I just wrote a few minutes ago)
I slumped into the dry, cracked grass, half surprised I didn’t hear anything snap. It hadn’t rained in nights, the ‘prairie’ was beginning to turn the color of mud, and my mouth was beginning to taste of dust. I’d have given anything to be back in Marvin’s cellar, drinking the cool beer after Jack had given up getting me to leave.
“Hey, you can’t take a nap now!” Jack roared at me, kicking dirt over top of my face. In an unsatisfying attempt at revenge, I tried to spit it at him, but the wet sludge just managed to dribble on to my foot.
50,968 / 50,000
Nov 9, 2007 - 17 37
This is one of the best bits so far. I still feel like I lost my mojo when the 1,000 words disappeared, but it's coming back.
“Where’d she go?” He shook me again, and my teeth rattled inside my head. That wasn’t nice. I squirmed, trying to get away from him. Trolls aren’t too smart, but it wasn’t a good thing if he’d managed to misplace Thia.
“Can’t speak, here.” I could barely breathe, so speaking wasn’t possible. He loosened his grip just enough for me to talk. “Her? Her, who?” I asked buying for time. I squirmed some more, but he had me in a death grip.
“Yeah, her. Thia. What did you do with her?” Great, not only did he loose her, he thought I’d found her. I didn’t think he’d be too happy to discover the truth. He shook me again.
“Put me down,” I squeaked. It is hard to yell when someone is choking you. I wriggled and fought, but he was a troll and I’m very small. Even with my vampire strength, it wasn’t enough, so eventually I gave up. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday,” I managed. “Hey, I’m having a hard time breathing here. Ease up on the hold and maybe we can talk some more.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Wow, a troll that said sorry. I’d have fallen over in shock, but he was still holding on to me. He gently put me back on the ground, but kept a bit hairy hand on my shoulder so I wouldn’t run away. As if I’d run from a troll, especially one wielding an axe.
“You look like you lost more than Thia.” I mentioned. He was alone, his buddies nowhere to be seen either. He squeezed me shoulder and I squeaked. “Sorry, didn’t mean to point that out,” I said. “I don’t have a clue where she is.” Not that I’ve have told him even if I did, axe or not.
“Let’s go find her then,” he said and pushed me forwards—as if I hadn’t wasted the better part of this evening already trying to find her elusive ass.
50,441 / 50,000
Nov 9, 2007 - 22 56
The only thing I *really* love so far is this entirely anti-nano word that is an integral part of my story: Fußball-Weltraumkoloniemeisterschaft.
It's the name of this important soccer tournament that is the impetus for The Plot (which has yet to materialize). But what a wonderful word!
If anyone reads German, you may find it funny (ha ha or eww, don't know which).
50,441 / 50,000
Nov 10, 2007 - 21 53
Okay, here's another one I like quite a bit:
The two of them walked along the river for a moment or two, not speaking. They watched the river wind its way along the middle of the wheel edge that made up the living space of Arkadia, pulled along by the centrifugal force which gave them an artificial gravity. They watched birds fly between branches of trees, both the birds and the trees carefully picked by the best AGI ecologists before the colony was launched.
113,371 / 50,000
Nov 10, 2007 - 22 27
The king is dead, and the MC is trying to find out if one of his mistresses was involved... and said prostitute ends up explaining the king, surprisingly well, and likely far better than he deserves.
"Men come here for many things, but I'm not sure they ever find what they're looking for. They seek friendship and pleasure in sex and lust, finding nothing because they don't understand what they really look for. That's how the Blue Lady described it to me, when I first started working here.
"I think it fits the king: the true motives of people are often hidden from themselves. Our true goals, our true drives -- he wanted to do so many things, to improve the world in so many ways. But in the end he's remembered for nothing, having done nothing truly bad or truly good. Maybe that is all a king should aspire to?" She shrugged. "He was a nice man, though. And I'd like to think he understood that no matter how grand and noble the goal, the methods to make it come about are always base and brutal things."
4,101 / 50,000
Nov 11, 2007 - 06 18
This is a favourite piece of my first chapter. My prose is dense and takes a long time to carve out, but I think it captures a mythical weight without sounding "too epic" for what it is: a young forest-girl's first meeting with another non-magical, mortal creature. They are both children, and I think this is the moment at which one understands, for the first time, a real sadness:
He was one of the Karach, wild dog-men from the great southern plains, though he was small then from youth and sickness. His name was of his own tongue, unpronounceable in a human mouth, but Aewyn attempted in with stubborn insistence until he finally, with no small protest, came to be known as Poe. For a year he was silent, and Aewyn thought him dumb; then suddenly in the spring he spoke the forest-tongue with the facility of one who has listened a long time. It was harsh and deep in his throat, even before his maturity, but she found she could speak to him as she spoke to her mother. This discovery pleased her young curiosity to no end, for her mother slumbered more and more in the trees, and in the long days of winter, when Aewyn’s hair turned white and the forest was quiet, she would clothe herself in the skins of other beasts, and the two would go walking in the woods together, and made from their thoughts a spring of sounds that never ran dry.
Poe told her what he could of the world beyond the trees, that there were many shaped like her, called Iun, and that they dwelt by the hundreds in great camps of stone and wood. He spoke of his own people, and told stories passed down from mother to female child since “before before,” as he struggled to put it. As a male cub, and being young when he was brought, he could remember little of these chronicles, called the Hanes, and he seemed strange and thoughtful when he spoke of old memories and times past. In time Aewyn came to know this feeling herself, during the night hunts when Poe would leave the shelter and venture into the dark: for whatever leaves and furs she could gather, the hut was colder for his absence, and Aewyn understood then the feeling of knowing something that had gone away.
Feel free to PM with feedback/criticism if you like.
15,239 / 50,000
Nov 11, 2007 - 21 54
This is the first paragraph of my novel, and I quite like it:
The city's streets ran red with the blood of a thousand dying men. The thudding of the war drums beat a constant tempo, counting down the city's dying heartbeats. The sky above was lit with fire. This was Constantinople, capital of the Byzantine empire, and the greatest city in the world. Tonight, it burned.
113,371 / 50,000
Nov 12, 2007 - 15 02
I suspect this may be the best bit I write all day....
"Are you on drugs?" the bartender said slowly.
Adwyn blinked, staring at him in puzzlement, then looked down. "I'm on the floor." The bartender stared at him in disbelief. Adwyn looked down again. "A - wooden floor?" The bartender continued to stare and Adwyn tried a smile, then ducked down and stood up. "With shavings," he added firmly.
"You know how I wanted you to try talking more?" Raul said. "Maybe you can do it after we leave a place where people dress up in leather and chains for fun?"
"Chainmail?"
"It's not when they wear it like that."
Adwyn just nodded and dropped the shavings, brushing his hands off.
50,034 / 50,000
Nov 12, 2007 - 17 53
A line that I wrote yesterday, which actually makes sense in context (the character was in an embarrassing situation, so he was blushing):
"I expected to spontaneously combust at any moment."
50,204 / 50,000
Nov 15, 2007 - 18 22
I just wrote a short scene that made me happy, so I'll throw it out here.
*********
Eliseo awoke groggily, trying to piece together the persistent dreams. The one about the city had been the most prominent, but others drifted at the edges of his memory, tugging for his attention. He sat up slowly, marveling that his body hardly ached, before realizing that his eyelids were stuck together with bloody tears again. Sighing, he wondered what T’caa would think if he came in the room at that moment.
As if the thought had summoned the man, Eliseo heard footsteps enter the room, then pause.
“I have a theory,” Eliseo said, attempting to lighten what probably looked rather disturbing from T’caa’s point of view, “That if I cut my eyelashes off, it might stop the vicious cycle of waking up like this.”
He heard a ‘tsk’ing sound from the man’s direction. “I’ll get a damp cloth.”
“Thanks,” Eliseo muttered, making an unenthusiastic attempt to pry the lids apart in the meantime. T’caa returned a moment later with a dripping rag. It took several minutes of careful scrubbing to remove the dry, clinging blood. Finally able to open his eyes, Eliseo had to snort when he saw the cloth.
“It looks like we cleaned up a murder.”
“I believe it is very difficult to kill a person with your face,” T’caa replied, laughing, “Especially when one is asleep at the time.”
*********
Before this, I wasn't sure there was any way I could make Eliseo's spontaneous and chronic "crying blood" situation funny, but I think I managed. Huzzah!
113,371 / 50,000
Nov 15, 2007 - 18 53
hahahah! That rocks. Of all problems associated with crying blood..... that is just awesome.
113,371 / 50,000
Nov 16, 2007 - 23 06
"By the way, what did you do to the car?"
"Do you like it?" He followed Cody outside, putting on the shades and looking pleased. "I believe I've solved most of the interface issues, though it is a bit of a letdown for her."
"Her?"
"She is Mary Sue Mark 4.2. She was is being used in a coffee maker."
"'Was is'?"
"It's not my fault your language has tense problems with time travel." Winter shrugged. "She wanted a change of scenery, so I liberated her since the entire Mary Sue line was recalled less than two days later due to a faulty logic runtime error."
"Explain that in a way that makes sense," Cody said.
"Most people do not have coffee maker's that attempt to take over the universe in the belief that it is justified by being 'mary sue'. Granted, it was a Mark 2.3 that tried that, but they recall the entire line regardless. Possibly from embarrassment that it did manage to conquer the entire Andromeda Nebula."
"A coffee maker conquered a galaxy?"
Winter shrugged. "I don't pay much attention to the thirtieth century. It could have been normal then, like an olympic event?"
50,231 / 50,000
Nov 17, 2007 - 13 09
"All of it came pouring out of his mouth: the fear of getting sick, the inability to control his emotions or his thoughts, the crippling loneliness and complete inability to speak to people. Charlie talked for almost twenty minutes, his eyes red and swollen with tears by the end of it.
And when he finally finished, swallowing hard so that he wouldn’t cry, Jimmy Bobbo nodded in understanding, took another swig of his beer, and replied, “Cool. I’m an alcoholic. Don’t tell.” Then he winked at Charlie and fell off his bar stool. "
50,172 / 50,000
Nov 17, 2007 - 14 07
This is my favourite; funny how it's always at the beginning :)
The spoked rear tire spun endlessly as the wide-glide lay crippled on its right side against the hard concrete barrier, which now had an exaggerated crack where the edge of the tire pressed against it. The aged asphalt felt extremely cold and twisted as Mike lay there, trembling and shaking. He was fading in and out of consciousness. His jaw felt like it had been split in two, the right half pressing against the pavement, and the other half embedded in the roof of his mouth. He could taste the blood that was draining down his throat. Momentarily, he knew he was in rough shape and was unable to say anything. The asphalt felt rugged under his jaw and cheek, yet warm from the moisture. The pressure felt like lying on a bed of pebbles, but only mixed with shards of glass. It stung … suddenly his vision started to diminish … then, everything went black.
50,777 / 50,000
Nov 17, 2007 - 21 30
Wow. I never in a million years thought that anything I wrote would end up in this thread. But, amazingly enough, I wrote this bit today that I actually like! In this passage, Audra, a meek and odd little girl has embarked on a dream-quest (of sorts) to hunt a dragon. In this bit, we see her transformation from timid misfit schoolgirl to confident hunter:
***
She smiled, wishing the kids from school could see her now. Back home, she was meek little Audra, who talked to herself, believed in things that didn’t exist, and couldn’t make a single friend. Here, on the cold, dark, foreboding mountain of her dreams, the gentle child who avoided confrontation at all costs was stalking though the endless night, hunting the most dangerous creature in existence armed only with her body and her imagination.
She was undefeatable.
She would have bet a thousand dollars that if Nick ever saw a dragon, he would run screaming for his mommy, and if Colby ever found himself on a mountain this cold and dark, he would sit helplessly and cry until something came along and ate him. But not Audra; no, she would continue on her journey undeterred by fear and discomfort, to hunt down the creatures of other people’s nightmares and win.
Ahead of her, she could see a tiny golden light flickering in the distance; probably from a house, or a tower. Certainly a dwelling of some sort. Perhaps whoever lived there could tell her where to find a dragon.
She gritted her teeth, took a deep breath, and clenched her fists with resolve before she set off across the jagged rocks and treacherous mountain terrain towards the tiny light that may signify the presence of invaluable help, or of danger the likes of which she had never before encountered.
She couldn’t wait to find out which it was.
7,744 / 50,000
Nov 17, 2007 - 22 47
maybe i'm just supremely overtired, but this line makes me laugh:
"Denial is an unattractive quality to cultivate."
...the guy has a way with words... and apparently a problem with compliments...let's see if beating up someone weaker than him will improve his mood...
...i will stop talking now... and go back to writing...
jh
7,744 / 50,000
Nov 17, 2007 - 22 57
okay, so instead of beating up someone weaker, he tried to molest someone in a hallway and got his ass kicked... yea! that was fun :)
oh, and this part also makes me laugh... maybe it's a bad thing that i'm only posting lines that make me laugh... but really, it's NaNo... so i don't exactly feel particularly proud of what's coming out on the keyboard...
"Roan’s face flushed. There was no point in blaming Kova, but something did have to change, and soon. Jayaan was... it was too complicated to explain and too blindingly obvious to ignore."
how's that for completely freaking random?
okay, i go sleep now and promise not to bother you all any more.
50,441 / 50,000
Nov 18, 2007 - 21 39
Ha! I just used "hypoglycemic" in a sentence. And it was absolute the right word, too. No forcing. So there.
50,204 / 50,000
Nov 22, 2007 - 00 16
You win one internet! :D
And now for another of mine. This one was just too awesome not to post. Gigglefits in the cathedral closets!
"Seo, Ah don' wan' yah t' spill yer guts tha' way. Ah just wan' t' know wha's buggin' yah. Yah been... ou' o' sorts fer a whil'." Aja replied soberly, adding, " 'Leen shoul'n hav' push'd yah. Was eet som'thin' dat happen in ze desert?"
"Yes," Eliseo muttered. Am I really that easy to see through? he thought. "I'm not--"
"Did yah fall 'n love wit some pret'y desert gal?"
Eliseo burst out laughing, at first startling Aja then causing him to join in. Once he had started, it was hard to stop, and both of them finally collapsed on the floor of the closet, almost unable to breathe, but utterly perplexed as to what was so funny.
The closet doors suddenly opened, and Viridal stared at them. Eliseo knew what she was seeing; one boy with blood streaked on his cheeks, both of them gasping for breath amidst the giggles.
"If you're looking for a lay," she finally said, voice vaguely strained, "Its going to be pretty hard to find in here. Especially what with you two howling like that."
She only became more baffled when the men collapsed into helpless laughter again at her words. She shut the closet doors gingerly, walking back out into the hall. After a moment they heard her reply to someone, "They're having a fit of hysterics in the closet... yes, really. No, I didn't ask why."
"I suppose," Eliseo rasped some time later, "It would make this situation all the more absurd if I admitted you were fairly close to the mark."
"Yah? How?"
"It was a pretty desert boy."
Eliseo had no idea why that set Aja off into gales of laughter again, but it was impossible to resist cracking up along with him.
Goodness, I love these boys. They're so silly. Its too bad I've got to kill one of them off. *weeps*
___________________________
NaNo '06 - Love of the Unordinary: Won!
NaNo '07 - Child Of Moon And Night
113,371 / 50,000
Nov 22, 2007 - 09 04
And from last night's bit of oddity... the two aliens lost the human they've been trying to tag (but are at least now sure he IS a human and not a platypus):
"We need to find the human?" the first alien said patiently. "You said you were trying to configure their technology to a search?"
"The battle station plans are not on the main computer."
"I think you are confusing me?"
"We need to question the princess! I have seen it three times, and it does not work, but they keep doing it! I believe this is irony," the second alien said, looking pleased.
The first alien stared at the television, then back at the second alien. "You haven't done anything at all, have you?"
"I used to the force! I am not sure what that entailed, however, since we do not have bowel movements." The second alien shuffled back a few steps. "I also discovered their entertainment providers believe their are sounds in space!"
50,441 / 50,000
Nov 22, 2007 - 10 14
Bwahaha!
50,968 / 50,000
Nov 22, 2007 - 23 26
I just wrote this. Might be the best part yet.
Drawing her close, still held on the knife I licked her neck. She fought, her terror making her strong, but the knife in her belly was more than even she could fight against. Her blood ran across my hand. I would lick it later. Now, her neck pulsed, the beat sweet and tantalizing. I licked her again. Her skin was smooth, with a faint hint of cinnamon and other spices.
Holding her close, I trapped her arms at her sides and bit. Her blood ran coppery and sweet over my tongue. God, it was like a drug. I resisted closing my eyes. I would not let her catch me in the same blood lust and fall victim to her the same way she had become mine. I paused, forcing her to make eye contact with me. I drew back, and smiled at her, fangs dripping her blood down the white, white of her shirt. Her eyes showed her fear, and I bit again. I drank until I knew she was mine. Mine to command. Mine to drink from fully. Mine to allow to go free. This beautiful, beautiful girl. And she was mine.
I looked up to lock eyes with Nikolai, and he grinned at me in knowing. I had gained her strength, and she would be my ally forever. I stood her back on her feet, caressing her, kissing her mouth, letting her taste her own blood, sweet on my lips. She smiled at me in devotion.
“I'm Cassandra,” she said. "yours to command, my mistress.” And I cried.
50,204 / 50,000
Nov 23, 2007 - 00 22
I love it! Very powerful, especially the last line. The visuals were absolutely wonderful.
_____________________________
NaNo '06 - Love of the Unordinary: Won!
NaNo '07 - Child Of Moon And Night: Won!
7,744 / 50,000
Nov 26, 2007 - 01 55
something to show the great love i have for my FMC... yeah... i can't stand her... which is probably why she gets beaten up so much...
...i swear i don't need therapy...
* * *
It was the low hissing noise that reached her first, followed by Kova’s voice and a blur of motion. Then it was a fist in her stomach, sending her crashing to the ground and a weight on her chest. Blinking back tears, Roan tried to move her hands, but he had them pinned tight beneath his boots. She caught a flash of white: teeth, or maybe eyes, before the fist slammed into the side of her head.
“Dirty. Filthy. Hateful. Ugly. Worthless.” Each word was followed by a blow to the head. “Dead. It would be better if you were dead.”
Roan tried to open her mouth, to call for help, but he hit her again and she bit down on her tongue. She choked on a mouthful of blood and Kova stirred. No, she pushed, she fought, and struggled. That was when Roan blacked out.
50,441 / 50,000
Nov 29, 2007 - 22 34
Ordinarily I'd put this in the laughably awful thread, but for some reason I'm really loving the schmaltzy ending of my nano this year:
Siobhan felt her eyes start to sting, and then tears began to spill out and run hot down her cheeks. She tried to say something that would tell Slava how she felt, that she did love him but just not the way he loved her, that it was hard for her too, but the words wouldn't come. So she just cried and hugged him, and when the tears were done she kissed his cheek and left.