London Challenge: How many of these can you include in your novel?

Pandora's Box is going to be a really interesting one to figure out a use for, but 'The fist of ultimate despair'? My story won't TRULY be complete until I've inflicted a character with that kind of brutality! :D

2006: So You've Fallen in Love - 1,477 words.
2007: Not-So-Lonely Road of Faith - 11,522 words.
2008: Faux - 13,366 words.
2009: The Coleridge Tape.

jayintheclouds.livejournal.com / twitter.com/jayintheclouds / facebook.com/onsentamago

And the ginger cat is about to go in...

He's in, his name's Mogwi and he's a grumpy bugger!

I reckon I can manage a maximum of six of these in my novel.. tricky to get a ocean liner into a book set in 580 BC.

1 - no chance
2 - nope
3 - this one actually should be pretty easy!
4 - um, no
5 - swimming sadly wasn't an Olympic event at that point
6 - I suppose it's possible?
7 - some enterprising fisherman must have used some kind of floating device to mark a net?
8 - yes
9 - yes (no surprise, this one is my one)
10 - yep
11 - yep
12 - I'll... try, I guess

Ok, I've managed to get in the swimming pool... but it's my own so I don't think it counts. It definitely wasn't part of my original storyline though...

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Hi guys! I'm new here, take it easy on me :)

Strange challenge, I keep flitting between whether or not to keep this novel serious or not. On one hand, I don't like doing things by halves; on the other I'll likely not survive if I take it too seriously :P

As for the items:

1. Maybe incidentally
2. Ditto
3. Very likely, if more by name/concept
4. Ditto (ie Titanic? :P)
5. Incidentally?
6. Most likely!
7. May be more difficult
8. Haha, would fit in rather well, but would be a stretch
9. Do-able
10. Haha, nope!
11. The easy one I suppose! Done.
12. "The fist of ultimate despair"? Haha, just for the novelty of the phrase I might endeavour to use this!

Woo hoo! I've managed to include the circular saw, the world's largest ocean liner, red drink AND The Fist of Ultimate Despair in tonight's scribblings :D

2006: So You've Fallen in Love - 1,477 words.
2007: Not-So-Lonely Road of Faith - 11,522 words.
2008: Faux - 13,366 words.
2009: The Coleridge Tape.

jayintheclouds.livejournal.com / twitter.com/jayintheclouds / facebook.com/onsentamago

Ok I've gotten in the cat and the world's largest ocean liner... let's see where tomorrow takes us!

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Starfish shaped pebble... tick!

Done the olympic sized swimming pool! :D seriously, this saved my life, I felt like giving up and then remembered this topic... I've written about 800 words on this damn swimming pool and I can get a lot more out of it too!

[Edit: haha, I was wondering how much I did actually write on this swimming pool thing and checked it - 801 words! that was a pretty good guess if I do say so myself! :P]

Are we posting (short) extracts from our novels to show how we've incorporated them? 'cause I think that could be pretty fun :)

Also I'm going to aim to get all of these things in... :) especially the whiny ginger cat! (my cat has been trying to walk all over my keyboard while I type recently anyway so I'm pretty sure I can find some inspiration there somewhere :P)

The Olympic swimming pool was mine! Yay! This is a little cut from mine showing the cat and the world's largest ocean liner, plus the use of the word "ambidextrous" that I got sponsored to work into the story...

“Hey, you want a beer?” he asked. “I could do with one.”
“Sure,” I said, watching my own reflection in the shimmering black kitchen tiles.
He opened the fridge and lobbed a bottle over his shoulder, assuming I would just catch it. I almost missed as a fat, ginger cat wound itself in between my feet and meowed.
“Don’t mind him,” he said. “He hates everyone, except me. Don’t you, Frieda?”
The cat meowed again and continued to grind its face into my leg.
“Seems to like me,” I said. “Why Frieda?”
“I thought he was a girl when I got him and by the time I figured out he wasn’t, Frieda had stuck.”
“Look,” I said. “While I’m never one to say no to free alcohol and all this cat talk is charming, should we just get on with it?”
“Whatever you say, Professor,” he said.

“You’ve got left and right-handed guitars in here,” I said.
“I’m ambidextrous,” said Anthony. “I didn’t know, which I’d be more comfortable with.”
“If you’re not supposed to be playing rock music, what do your parents think you’re doing with all this stuff?”
He shrugged. “They’ve never seen the studio.”
“How’s that?” I asked.
“They’ve never seen any of the house,” he said.
“My father builds ocean liners. They’re travelling on the Queen Mary 2 at the moment checking out the competition.”
“So you’re in this house all alone?”
“Me, Frieda and Iva, the housekeeper. They didn’t want me to miss any school between Maryland and here. Anyway, you wanted to start?”

If anyone wants to read more, you can sponsor me at http://www.justgiving.com/AbNoWriMo/, which gives you access to the whole thing on my blog.

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Actually I think you could just about manage it --

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ancient_maritime_history

I like this idea, perfect for when you can't think of anything else to write but you want to meet your daily quota (erm, yeah, I'm really slack in that regard...)

I reckon I could get just about all those in... question though: what exactly is this fist of ultimate despair? Sounds like something out of The Pilgrim's Progress... either that or something out of Family Guy...

Eternally optimistic... I will produce some writing of quality, even if it kills me!

lol at your cheeky ocean liner reference there too, Audiofrog :P

The second day was spent at home, thinking. Freedom is exhilarating at first, but like everything else it soon wears off and becomes faded and old. I absent mindedly browsed the internet for a few hours, eventually ringing a company and asking for private usage of their Olympic swimming pool.

(...and then she travels there, gets there, uses it, etc :) (she's currently very rich) (brackets within brackets!))

Whoo-hoo... artichoke paste... done!
The soup was indeed the best soup I had ever tasted. It was thick and full of chunky vegetables with a strangely exotic herby taste.
“This is pretty good soup,” I said.
“I know,” he said. “She’s an absolute wizard with soup. I get the feeling that’s all they ate in Bulgaria when she was younger. There’s this thick artichoke paste she puts in everything. It smells terrible and tastes even worse on its own but somehow it’s an amazing base for soup. She discovered it when we lived in Italy and since then she actually gets it shipped in in crates.”
“Well, I guess I count myself glad that she does,” I said.

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Ok here's the cat
Abigail had planned to spend the night home alone in her flat in with her grumpy cat and maybe a takeaway curry for one. The cat in question was a large squat marmalade tom who had never quite forgiven her for emasculating him, his squashed face was fixed in a permanent frown which fitted his grouchy and taciturn temperament perfectly. Chris used to call him the ginger bastard but his real name was ‘Mogwi’. When she arrived Mogwi was sat next to his food bowl (as per usual) with a look of tired and resigned depression. ‘Oh come on fatso, I gave you more biscuits than could feed 12 cats this morning’. He responded with a drawn out high-pitched mew and put one paw on top of the bowl fixing her with a reproachful look. ‘Fine, quit your whining...’

and the starfish pebble
The birthmark looked vaguely like a teardrop, or a fish, or like one of those Japanese kites. No, he thought, definitely a fish. Once you’ve fixed a certain meaning onto something, no matter how ambiguous, it tends to stick. Like seeing shapes in clouds or scary faces in wallpaper patterns, ones conjured up the meanings are hard to dispel. Gary had a ‘lucky' pebble in his bathroom which he had picked up on a beach in Cornwall when he was 13 or so. An ex-girlfriend thought it looked like a flower, she was wrong it was and always would be a stubby starfish, just as he had seen it that day 10 years previously. He hadn’t corrected her but he had dumped her 4 days later.

I've just copy/pasted the list and dunked it at the end of my story notes. I will definitely try to incorporate as much of them as I can into my story, one way or another >_>

ginger cat!

the bellicose natured ginger cat which would weave its way through the sparse, dry plants squatting in the poor imitation of a garden that sprawled out in front of my territory [...] its now pleading eyes almost convinced me to let it stay, but I was resolute, and soon it was outside miaowing plaintively and to no avail

Because I'm not sure if I did the best job of explaining how I exactly threw The Fist of Ultimate Despair into my story last night... :)

Was it a storm? Was it Monstro? Was it literally the fist of an angry God?

I'm not sure I even know to be honest. It's better that way, I think! :D

2006: So You've Fallen in Love - 1,477 words.
2007: Not-So-Lonely Road of Faith - 11,522 words.
2008: Faux - 13,366 words.
2009: The Coleridge Tape.

jayintheclouds.livejournal.com / twitter.com/jayintheclouds / facebook.com/onsentamago

Another one down... teddy bear in a sailor suit (helps that one of my characters is five):

I became more and more nervous as we got closer to Anthony’s house on the bus. I don’t like situations I can’t predict and I had no idea what was going to happen here. Kayla gawked at the house as we walked up to the front door.
“Kayla,” I said. “You have to be very good here. Don’t touch anything and say please and thank-you like I taught you, okay?”
“Okay,” she said.
“Hey Eric,” said Anthony opening the door and then he immediately crouched down so he was eye-level with Kayla.
“What’s your name?” he said.
She clung to my leg. “Kayla,” she said shyly.
“I’m Anthony,” he said. “How old are you, Kayla?”
“Five,” she said, showing him her hand.
“That is a nice bear,” he said.
“Her name is Eric,” she said.
“Oh really,” said Anthony, looking up at me and winking. “I think I know some bears that might want to meet Eric. Do you want to come and see them?”
She nodded and when he reached out to her, she put her tiny hand in his and followed him without giving me a second look.

Anthony opened the door to a room in the house I had not seen before. It was full of toys.
“This was my favourite bear when I was your age,” said Anthony picking out a teddy bear in a sailor suit. “My daddy bought him for me in America.”
“What’s his name?” asked Kayla.
“Bruno,” said Anthony.
“I like him,” said Kayla.
“Well you can play with him and anything else in here you want.”
“What do you say, Kayla?” I said.
“Thank-you, Antknee,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” said Anthony. “Now do you want to bring Bruno and some other toys down to the studio and you can play while Eric and I play some music.”
Kayla took a couple of Barbies and some paper and crayons.

Come over to the dark side... we have cookies

It took me a while to understand what Largest Ocean Liner meant... Now I guess it's pretty obvious. Anyway my characters are right ON an ocean liner, on their way to Americaaaaa, so you know, I feel cheated out of a challenge :P

2009 - A One-Way Ticket To Brooklyn - WIP
2008 - Stars Shine Brighter - Winner

Mine are undertaking a round the world cruise on the Queen Mary 2, so I also feel like I'm a bit cheating on this one ^^; and they are gods so I can easily fit a discussion of Pandora's box in the middle.

Lilibel

2005 : D'une rive à l'autre
2006 : 14 fevrier
2007 : Sans-titre
2008 : Barbiewire
2009 : La croisiére s'amuse : une divine comedie

I feel really cheap for putting the items in incidentally and in really contrived circumstances, but hey, it's a writers' block prevention aid! :D

Cool idea. I'm going to do as many as I can - I bet I can work them all in eventually. Here's red drink:

Toby swilled the last of her wine round in the big glass, the way she’d seen them do it on Food and Drink. Why did they call it red wine, she wondered? It wasn’t a red drink at all. When you spilt it on something white, like a school shirt, as Toby had done several times, the colour was burgundy or pink rather than red. She bet it had been named by a man – they tended to be lazy when it came to colours.

Except for Cris. He could probably name 15 different shades in between cherry and vermillion.

After 3 days home alone, too intent on ignoring the telephone to ever be able to completely relax, even colourising with Cris sounded like a fun way to spend an evening.

What colour would he call her hair? Probably something more imaginative than carrot.

And here are two more:

‘Read this.’ Mike tossed several stapled together pages towards Tess. ‘PI’s summary of the week so far.’

‘Swapsies,’ said his wife, indicating the baby taking up both of her arms. Mike always hated moving the baby when he was sated and peaceful after a feed; he edged his hands gingerly under the little body and transferred him over bit by bit.

Kai’s lips puckered open and closed, still feeding in his sleep. One tucked-in hand kept a tight grip on Poopeye the Sailor Bear, nicknamed after the critics’ reception of Mike’s performance as a pirate in a British parody of Pirates of the Caribbean. Even as he had signed the contract he had wondered if it was possible to make a parody of a film that was as self-referentially silly as Timmy Mallet, but at the time it had seemed like a good way to move from TV into the movies.

Still, the movie had some good outcomes too. On the model of the Queen Camilla, the unsinkable World’s Largest Ocean Liner (actually about twenty feet long and lacking a port bow), Kai had been conceived.

He stroked the boy’s red candy floss hair. Wherever Toby had been conceived, Mike certainly didn’t have such good memories of it. So far his only good memory relating to her was at the art gallery, watching her and Hillary compete for the title of Most Unexpected Art Expert Ever.

OK, I've now worked in all the ones with a strikethrough:

1.Circular saw
2.Unicycle
3.Pandora's Box
4.World's largest ocean liner
5.Olympic swimming pool
6.Teddy bear in a sailor suit
7.Buoy
8.Stone shaped like a starfish
9.Thick artichoke paste
10.Whiny ginger cat
11.Red drink
12. The fist of ultimate despair

And I think I can work the others in easily enough, although the Fist of Ultimate Despair might take some effort. It's definitely given me a few hundred extra words and some good plot/character development so far.