Finished NaNoWriMo

Hey,
NaNoWriMo was tough. I tried this two time in past 4 years and both times i left it in middle or somewhere even before the mid point but this time, somehow, stumbling and mumbling and tripping and falling my way through I finished it. Phew. Clocked a total of 50021 words. Even if half of it, or even if all of it is crap, i don't really mind. The first draft is always shit. I know this much that I wanted to finish 50k words and with all the shit happening to me in November I still did it.

In the last hours till 0000 hrs when i was writing the last 3000 words, there was a very big temptation to cheat. I gave myself various reasons that I can stick parts of any previous work that I had written and inflate the word count and get the pretty lil pic that you see above. I mean, who'd be there to check me, right? I could have done that and gotten away with it too. But then, i thought, can i really not write 3000 more words? Will i have to wait another year for a November to see if i can finish the 50k. I didn't have the patience to wait till November 2011, so I wrote on. It is important to do what you are doing, with eyes on the goal and all distractions eliminated.

The writing has been tough for me in November because I went home for Diwali once and then for another occasion. That's two weekends wasted, and then I had to go for a dear friend's marriage on the third weekend. These six days I got NIL words done. Which is kinda scary because weekends are the time when any writer can pull up the word count to the max degree. I just got one weekend which was the second and which had a half working Saturday in my office. But at the end of the day, the important thing is that writing got done. How it got done, the circumstances it got done in, whether it was pen or paper or macbook or iphone or the skin of your enemies with their blood and bones for ink, it doesn't matter. What matters is that writing must happen.
And writing happened. This makes me happy.
Thanks to the twitter gang for being pillars of support and jabs in the ass when I was wasting time doing other things than tweeting.

Right, that done, now i want to ask you something.

Do you like horror short stories?

About NanoWriMo (I'm taking part) + Some Writing Tips

Hey

I am taking part in this year's NaNoWriMo. That's National Novel Writing Month for those living under rocks and in caves. That's ok. The idea here is to write a novel of 50k words in the month of November. Today is 4th day of November, too soon to say anything whether I will complete the novel or not. I really really want to. I hope I keep wanting to complete it.

I won't share what I am writing about for the sole reason that I might jinx it, but rest assured it's all manners of kickassry that we indulge in on this blog. There is blood and exploding helicopters and some sex and more blood. I'll throw in few more exploding helicopters and some satellites too at later stages. I'm using some tips tricks and tools to get me through the writing experience. I'll share some of them here, not all, because well, there IS no all, it's just a tentative list. Anyway:

1. Plan - It's a big project, ambitious too. So, divide the novel into chapters, preferably one chapter a day. Each chapter equal to or more than 1667 words. And you're set towards 50k.

2. Setting - Fix a time for writing daily. Either early in morning or late at night. No phone calls, emails or internet in that time. If you write after proper planning you can easily churn out up to 2k words in 1 hour. That's what I did on one day when I had my work planned out. I knew what I had to write.

3. Rewards - Keep some reward for yourself once you've hit your daily word count. I ate three chocolates the first three days and drank a Mountain Dew today. Tomorrow, it will be something else.

4. Music - Music doesn't work for me, so i keep my headphones off. I do listen to some music before writing to get my blood pumping. I prefer rock, if any other genre works for you, so be it. While writing it's better to keep it silent so that you can listen to your inner voice, then again its personal preference.

5. Announce - Tell a friend that you're writing a novel or inform your online pals on twitter/facebook that you're writing. You might make some new friends in the process and you'll have the accountability factor of delivering the novel before 30 November.

Yeah, we've all read these tips now and before too, but it's always good to have a refresher. So anyway, good luck with writing. I have a good story idea bubbling in my head, i will post it in a day or two.

If you're also writing your novel this November, do share in comments what works for you and I will add it to this post. (My NaNoWriMo Page is here you can connect with me through twitter, my handle there is @69fubar)

Cheers!

N

Non Story Post :: The Science Of An Idea

Negative thinking is not good for your health or for the health of those around you, but negative thinking can be a great hub of ideas for writers who are looking for ideas.

Why?

Negative thinking means some kind of conflict, some kind of disturbance in the normal course of things. What is a comet was heading towards Earth right now? What if there is a girl in a white frock standing behind my chair this instant? What if a full convoy of commandos are coming to pick me up and take me to an unspecified location? These are all great what if scenarios. If you put some x,y,z character in a strange fix, a physical dilemma or even a moral one and then find a way out which the reader could not think of, you have a winner on your hands.

This is the way stories are written. When you, a writer, put your characters in hot water, you are putting your readers in hot water too, and then when you take the characters out of hot water because of some Deus-ex-machinia, then the readers also feel relieved. This is the reason why people watch horror/disaster movies. Because they want a positive resolution. They want the fake voice of hope in their hearts to be true. That's fiction, but it's good fiction and it sells. And what sells and puts food on your table and pays the bills, no matter how shitty the product, must be good.

Right? I hope so.

Now let me deal with this girl in white standing behind my chair.

Comments are open for discussion.

How do you come up with ideas?

Are positive resolutions to stories the only way to go?

Anything else you'd like to discuss?

N

When I am not writing stories....

...I am writing poems :)

Updated the Poetry blog today, with three new poems. More might come.

Do check it out.

www.fubarpoems.blogspot.com

Thanks!

N

NON Story Post -- All Is Not Well

International readers, the few of you, recently released Indian movie 3 Idiots was about the education system of the engineering in India. The movie popularized the phrase "All Izz Well"(sic) among the youth who, according to the movie, can stay calm by saying this phrase when all shit is getting shot to hell and back on the back of a rabid T-Rex.

All is well?

Really?

Since when the fuck has all been well? When the fuck will be well?

How long will it take us to realize that we're all in a state of constant degradation and we are slowly spiralling towards the end we are all supposed to meet. This fact scares me and disturbs me to a great degree. To think of a world where none of you will be there to read my stories. It shakes my faith in humanity and you tell me ALL IS WELL? FUCK THAT, i say.

All is NOT well good sir, 'even the Monalisa is falling apart' (Fight Club)

Through all the destruction of the soul and mind, we are hanging on to dirty filthy words like hope, love, kindness and empathy. There is nothing like that in the world. If you don't start cutting people, its only because people are cutting you. Right now. Yes.

Are you the one doing the damage to the universe or getting damaged by the universe?

Do you really, with all your heart and soul, believe in power of Love and Goodness? Don't answer this to me, answer this to yourself.

We're living in interesting times, ladies and gents, this is a WARZONE.

Show no mercy, because you shall receive none.

Non Story Post

I like the fact that i can post whatever the fuck i want to on my blog. That's the whole point of blogging no? I mean, it's not really a popularity competition. Uh...nevermind.

August has been a tough month on me. And it's not over yet. I asked for things again and again and i was told no. Maybe i didn't ask hard enough or maybe I didn't deserve those things, but anyway, August is almost over now. I'm glad for that. I might be quitting the job, i've been doing work for the past three years, and it's certainly not fun. I mean, i didn't even have my exam results when I was on the job and i got my graduation result after my first salary, which was peanuts. The salary was peanuts, not the result.

Anyway, the past 3 odd years have been tough on me, and the blog, and my writing has gone through changes, some good some bad, and i am glad to say, everyday i learn something new. Which isn't very comforting, to say the least. I started novels and left them in middle, some 3-4 of them and then there was lot of writing. Found the mecca of distraction called twitter, got addicted, quit it. Had some other bad habits, left them too. Then, slowly my mind rotted because of staying alone. All fucking alone. I was afraid that i'd get used to staying alone and i did. Now, if someone else is near me, i feel they are invading my personal space. I've diaries full of ideas that are yet to be written, guess their time has not come yet. And still, there are so many things i can't talk about on the blog, because this is, somewhat, a public medium. But yeah, all through these years, i've loved writing every single word here. Through loneliness, being broke, hunger, drunkenness and madness, every single fucking word has been worth it.

Now, onwards, to more stories. Because that's what we do.

N

How Things Change :: Part 3 of 3

/Now/

Mira stood in waist deep waters, her hand with the flare gun dropped to her side. The approaching light of the hydrofoil looked like an angry demon's eye in the darkness. A smile streaked her bloody teeth. She raised a hand in greeting and felt herself slip into the water. Mack saw her go under the surface and he gunned the boat, the engine screamed under the added pressure. He jumped into the water before the boat had even slowed down, reached Mira, and pulled her to shore. She coughed up water as he laid her down on the sand. Her shoulder was bleeding badly and there was white bone visible under the torn skin.

Mira opened her eyes lazily. "The Electrician is out. Get the fat man." It was misson time, her eyes were glazed with pain but there was a strange focus in them. "What about the Electrician?" he asked.

"I'll handle him."

Mack nodded. "Is there anything you need?" he asked.

"Yeah, help me to the water."

He led her to the water. The boat had floated to the shore and the receeding water had banked the boat into the sand on the shore.

"Go," she said, "we don't have much time."

Mack turned around and started running towards the mansion. Behind him, Mira collected another charge in her hand. Small enough to be useful and large enough to do the work on the boat. She needed the boat's power.

IN THE MANSION
The Electrician moved his shoulder in the socket and grimaced as it slid in with a wet crunch. The pain was amazing, he almost shorted himself with the currents in his own body. He looked at where he had thrown Mira and he saw Mack come running towards him.

"Bloody siblings." he grimaced and prepared another serpent strike in case Mack also wanted a dose same as his sister. But then Mack jumped up on the roof of the mansion and kept running. The Electrician was surprised at this odd behavior when a strike of lightening diverted his attention from Mack. It came from the shore. "Ah Mira"

/On The Roof/

Mack's senses were ablaze with the electricity present in the Mansion. He zeroed in on the source. The Fat Man. He was here and Mack could feel it in his bones. He homed in on the source like a wolf homing on an injured prey. He called forth another lightening strike from the skies and a hole opened up in front of his feet, he didn't stop running and dived straight in.

The Fat Man was sitting in his lazyboy which creaked under his weight. He was looking at a large screen full of monitors that showed all parts of the mansion and one of the cameras showed Mack standing behind his lazy chair. "Welcome, Mack." he said without turning around.

"We have a hit on your name." Mack told him.

"I know that."

Mack was puzzled for a moment, then realization dawned on him. "You ordered the hit."

He heard the smile in the man's voice.

"It gets boring on the island son." He moved the chair to face Mack, his face was lined with age but his blue eyes were full of excitement. "Come and sit in my lap, let's watch some television." Mack obeyed like a docile puppy and sat onto the man's lap which was not much different than the chair.

The TV screens that were disjointed now became a big tv screen with each tv showing a piece of an image. The images started moving on the screen.

The back of electrician's head appeared on the screen. He was bent over something and muttering to himself. The camera zoomed out and the screen filled up with the image of Mira, her shoulders were bare and one shoulder was swathed in white bandages. The Electrician mumbled apologies as he bandaged her shoulder and she jolted him with little bolts of electricity in his ear.

"What a lovely couple, aren't they, Mack?" the Fat Man asked.

Mack started to suck on his thumb. A fuse in the palette of his mouth shorted and his skull exploded, spraying brains all over the fat man's white suit.

On the TV screen Mira let the Electrician kiss her.

-------------__End__------------------------

This could have ended in 1000 different ways, but i liked this one the best.

Got a few ideas for single post stories now :)

Do let me know in comments how you liked this one.

The Rose, Red and Blue (Part 2 of 3)

(You can read part 1 of this story here)
/Now/

Mack sat in the dark with his back to the boat's cabin. The hydrofoil was fitted with a X-286 engine that gave the boat speed equivalent to a Ferrari on water. He would need it soon. He watched the starless skies, there was a storm building up in the south. His favourite kind of weather. He took the cigar from his pocket. It was half smoked and slightly bloody. The cigar of victory and death. He got up from his perch, stepped over two bodies that had their heads chopped off, the wounds cauterised by lightening. There was no blood here, he liked his jobs clean. He went up to the boat's railing and put the cigar in his mouth. The clouds gathered above him like bad luck but he knew it was only normal. He flicked his fingers and a stab of lightening struck down from the clouds into the water, dangerously close to where he stood. The cigar glowed to an amber red and Mack sucked in deeply. He exhaled and looked to the shore, willing the signal to make itself seen. He wanted to kill more. It was an addiction. Then the flare went up, bright against the sky like a jewel in a crown. He spat the cigar and before it touched the surface of water, the boat was off in the direction of the flare.

/Earlier/

The Electrician stood waiting for Mira in the big hall. He was dressed for the fight, batteries laced his back and his armour was a mishmash of gadgets and junk. Most of the gadgets didn't work, they were only for show, but he knew he'd not need gadgets with the girl coming here. He'd smash her like an empty carton of juice without using much force. He wanted to get back to drinking sweet electricity. And he waited for her. But she didn't show up. So he decided he'd go and say hi to her.

Mira sensed the air around her fizzle and a smell of ozone filled the atmosphere. She stopped walking, stood absolutely still and took stock of her reserves. She had wasted a lot of energy in getting through the guards and she was doubtful that she'd make it through the fight that was coming her way. The Electrician calmly walked into her view and his confident smile sent her heart in a sickening lurch in her stomach. She squeezed a charge in her fist, building it, giving it power, till the Electrician was in the range of her attack. He saw her closed fist, he saw the blue light gather around her fingers, and he started running towards her. Mid-run, he dropped to his knees, and started a slide that ended near Mira's feet. With a flourish, the Electrician presented Mira with a wire rose that lit up with red and blue flames.

"This is my love for you, my love." he sighed.

And Mira slammed him in the face with the charge she was building. The charge sent him tumbling head over heels. He crashed through three different walls and came to a stop, his nose was broken and he felt an empty space where his shoulder joint was supposed to be.

"Stupid girl," he muttered more out of frustrated sadness than anger or pain, "out you go."

Electric serpents lashed out of his right hand and coiled themselves around the fixtures in the ceiling. The serpents reached Mira, who was still standing in the same spot, gathering her energies and thinking about her next move. She didn't have to think for long because the serpents lashed out at her. Lifting her in a tangle of blue lightening bolts and hurling her bodily through the skylight, into the trees and far away onto the beach. Mira fell on the warm sand and coughed out a gob of blood.

"Mack..." her bruised lips whispered as she gathered resolve to get up.
--------------------

I am messing up the timeline of the story on purpose. Some explanation, each part of the story is divided into now and earlier. The events of earlier have led to the events of now. And the Earlier of this part will relate to the NOW of the previous part of the story. Confused? GOOD!

Let me know in comments how much you hate me.

Her Footprints Are Bloody (Part 1 of 3)

The sand was comfortably warm between Mira's toes. The water made a flower of her skirt as it lapped up around her thighs. When the slow waves reached her waist, she took the flare gun from her jacket pocket and fired it up into the sky. Then she waited for him to come.

Earlier

Mira left a trail of death in her wake. Her feet were bare, covered in blood. A trail of bloody footprints followed her. Those who had tried to stop her had died bloody deaths and she was no in habit of cleaning up after her. It was Mack's job and Mack wasn't here. Yet. She walked the corridor deeper into the mansion, softly whispering Hindu mantras to herself, to keep herself calm. It was difficult.

She was a shadow of usual electric self. Her eyes were sunken like she had not slept for days. Her clothes were torn and dirty and she was wearing a borrowed skirt that sweeped the floor as she walked. Her hair was a mess, standing up on its edges as static electricity coursed through her skin. She saw one of the goons peek from the end of the chamber. She flicked her fingers and sent a ball of lightening smashing into the face of the man. A smoking hole gaped where the man's head was a moment ago. The man collapsed and she calmly walked over his body and her feet were bloody again. She saw a CCTV camera on the wall move to follow her. She lifted her middle finger to the camera and it shorted with a puff of smoke.

The man who watched the camera in a room deep within the mansion smiled to himself. Such brazen display of power was nothing alien to him, he had done it himself when he was young. He stroked the white cat that sat contended in his lap. The hair on the cat's skin bristled as static electricity built up and with a terrified yelp the cat jumped from the man's lap, gave him a scowling look and stalked off to do whatever cats do. The man pressed a button in the armrest of his chair and spoke three words, "Call the Electrician."

The Electrician was lounging in his Lazyboy, a wire plugged into the hole in his skull. "Sweet electricity, light be up baby." he whispered to himself, lost in the delirium of electrons and protons. He felt a surge and dip in the current. They were calling him. He'd have to plug off. This upset him. He pressed a finger in his ear, activating the mic implanted in his jaw.

"What?"

"Mira."

A smile lit up the Electrician's face.

"Mira..."

---------------------------
A good story is one which doesn't tell everything to the readers. This is the first of three. More tomorrow.

100 Probable Blog Topic Guidelines.

*edit - I wrote this post on July 31, 2010. Many of these topics might be done, but you can always give your take on them. Enjoy!
--------------------------------
Just on a whim, just to prove a point to myself, just to remove at least one of your excuses to write, I wrote 100 probable blog topic guidelines. These are guidelines, not verbatim post titles. If you write a post on any of these titles or related subject matters and you'd like me to send some reader your way, leave a link in the comments are i'll update the post. I agree that some of these ideas might have been explored before, but hey, you can't have everything. Oh, and i wrote these topics in some 40 mins, cuz i got a call in between. Enjoy, or not. Some of these topic might be offensive, you're free to get offended in that case, and I am free to completely ignore your offensedness.

1	Leave your cellphone at home you don't need it
2	Why aliens shouldn't come to india
3	The benefits of being Indian
4	There is no spoon
5	Five reasons why bollywood is a fail
6	Five reasons why hollywood is a fail
7	Stop reading newspapers
8	How to create an atmosphere to write
9	Taking care of fish is a tough job
10	Living without tv
11	Become a better liar
12	Stop talking on the phone, text instead
13	Saving power by avoiding bath in winter
14	My hostel days were the best
15	My hostel days were the worst
16	My Dad is stronger than your dad
17	Food cooked by Mom's hand
18	You can't get taller
19	Good things come in good packages, not small.
20	The world will make you its slave
21	Is life all about doing a job?
22	Leave a mark when you die
23	Death is but another journey
24	Nostalgia about old music
25	Black White movies were awesome, why?
26	There are no pretty female leads in bollywood today
27	Why you should watch a movie every weekend
28	How to break free of the society's clutches
29	Why having a moral code is important
30	Six people I want to kill
31	Tears taste awesome
32	What is blood tasted sweet
33	Why vampires should not sparkle
34	Getting a dog is better than making babies, discuss.
35	Why AIDS is good for human population
36	Ten ways to act like an utter asshole
37	Seven people you never wanna meet
38	Stereotypes In Cities
39	The Universe is a big ball of shit
40	Anger issues and dealing with them creatively
41	How to fund your cocaine habit
42	Ten reasons why fish are awesome pets
43	How to start a black metal band
44	Face paint is the new black
45	Men are stupid
46	Women are stupid
47	Children are stupid
48	Dogs are very stupid
49	Why cats don't give a damn about humans
50	Rap is music? Discuss
51	How to kill Wolverine
52	Comics are the new novels
53	Building a cheaper tomorrow
54	How to be less of a burden on the planet
55	Why cycling to work will not be successful in India
56	Kill your car
57	Apple Products are overrated? Discuss.
58	Gay people are attention hungry.
59	Social activism is dead, they're in it for the limelight
60	Staying silent is best for you
61	How to fire your boss
62	True Zen is NO ZEN
63	There is not path to peace, STFU.
64	People are problem. Why?
65	They just want my money, they don't love me.
66	If Predators had a 9to5 job.
67	Chilling out : Xtreme Sessions
68	Voluntarily Slowing down Internet can Help you Focus
69	YouTube is waste of time
70	Superman In India: Success of Suck?
71	How to live with less attention
72	Some people should be shot dead
73	Some get medals for living, some for dying
74	Fat people are good liars. How?
75	Leg pulling on twitter. Is it justified?
76	Biting Back when you are bitten. Doing it gracefully.
77	A six pack is a sign that you're wasting your life.
78	We're all gonna die, so why bother?
79	Simplification is overrated.
80	Iphone vs Blackberry. Touchscreen or buttons?
81	Would the planet's end be warm or frozen? Imagine.
82	Smoking is not sexy.
83	9 Ways to have sexy sex.
84	10 things men do wrong when dating
85	Why do women expect so much from men and vice versa
86	I killed a unicorn and I liked it.
87	Babies are evil. Explain.
88	How to get over downloader's guilt
89	Eating Meat is wrong because animals are cute.
90	Would you eat a human baby?
91	What if you are attacked by cute but rabid human babies?
92	Why you should have a moral code
93	What mark will you leave on the face of the planet?
94	Live slow, die old. Do you agree?
95	Anger as a motivating force. How?
96	Alternate uses of empty water bottles.
97	Creating an idea dump is necessary
98	What if mermaids were truth.
99	Is the FBI/CIA really watching you?
100	Names are important. How?

On The Problem Of Creating

Now that we've discussed the problem of distractions, let's fight the syndrome "I Don't Know What To Write On My Blog" or the Lack Of Creativity.

Most of the blogposts start with some kind of apology, "Sorry I've not posted in a long time, blah and blah and I promise to be regular from now on" but this never happens. Many times people are on a creative low, because creativity is not like a fountain, you can't be creative 24/7/365, no one can. Even the masters take some time out and do uncreative things, like wasting time in watching tv. (I hate tv, that might be the next post)

So, what is creativity like? Well, for me it's like a wave in an ocean and you and me, my dear friend, those of us who "think" ourselves to be creative, are like surfers! We are the writer surfers, you might be a drawling surfer or a composing surfer, but you are a surfer, so am I. All of us are surfers!

Ok, so, you are the surfer, and the creativity is the wave. Right. When the right wave comes, you lie there in anticipation, after the lull in the sea, you know a wave is coming, oh by god, you KNOW it! You can feel it in your creative bones, and you tense up, on your surfboard, ready to tackle the wave, ready to ride it out, whether you fall in the ocean, drown or get eaten by the shark, you HAVE to ride the wave. Oh yeah, that's when magic happens my friend. That's when magic happens. And creating something is magic. It's more magic than what you see on the stage, more magical than the iPods or David Blaine.

Fuck David Blaine, if you've made something out of nothing in your life, YOU are the magician.

And the best part, you can do this magic again and again. Sometimes, it will be good, sometimes it won't, but if you're a magician, a surfer, a creator, that's what you'll do.

So, wtf are you waiting for? Go create. You don't need anyone's permission.

Dealing With Distractions

Any creative person will always have this one problem. They are too easily distracted. Why does the distraction happen? Because, creation is an act of observation and at the same time being disassociated enough to focus on the creation. It's like a loop, or a vicious circle.

Let's take an example. Of me writing a story. Because that's the closest thing I have as the means of a specimen. Me. A specimen. For your entertainment and understanding.

I get distracted easy. There is very less present to keep my attention to a task. And even now I see the twitter tab has three new tweets but I am writing in this window. And I am wondering if gmail has any new emails for me. And I have this bowl of noodles on my table and I am hungry. The fish in the bowl on my table are looking at me. I just stared back at them and they dispersed.

So there. Lot of distractions. But I am still writing. How?

SPEED. MOMENTUM. KEEP THE BALL ROLLING. DON'T STOP.

There, that's in capital letters, you can write them on your hand, or on your notebook.

The trick is to not stop when you start something. That's the best hack i know to keep distractions at bay. Yeah, you might need to go to loo to pee when you're writing a very long story but even then, when back at the keyboard, it means no fucking around.

If it's a long job, divide and rule. If it's still big, divide more.

But don't get distracted.

Twitter tab tells 18 tweets. I'll now tweet the link to this post.

More, tomorrow. About characters in stories.

tied up in things

Hello dear readers, i know some of you are there. I am tied up in work. There is a lot of it and i've been trying to get rid of certain addictions with only moderate success. The writing meanwhile has suffered. But i will be back soon. There is no other way to go about it. One should always be back.

So, yeah, here's to hoping that all is well in your parts of the world and that you're having a good time.

See ya soon.

N

NON STORY POST-- About Stuff

Hey you, yup you. This is NOT a story. I like to make this clear in most of the occasional non-story post here. Cuz hey, we need to get to know each other better. You barely know me, even when you've been reading my blog for god know how much time. Ok, some of you know me, but you DON'T really really know me. Few do. Very few. But let's not go there.

I have some news, some views, and some links.

NEWS : I am off facebook. I told trusted parties to change my password to something I don't know so that even if I want to I cannot login there. It's a time waster, I'd rather spend that time writing. The friends who really really care can easily contanct me on email or call me or whatever, if I love them I'll pick their calls or something.

I have frozen the twitter account because I realized that twitter was an idea dump. The best ideas that could've been kickass blogposts were getting wasted as 140 character tweets of no particular significance. I might take up twitter again in future, but that's till I can rack up my personal word count. TO those who are reading this from twitter. I'm not really sorry guys, I know you'll miss me there, but I have to get my life in order and do awesome things. Twitter was taking too much brain juice, now that I know I am off it, I can work on more interesting things like painting stones and drinking red bull and listening to music and ofcourse, writing.

VIEWS: There are "Outside Forces" working to mess with me. Sorry Outside Forces, that's not going to happen. :)

LINKS: Serial Fiction has hit blogsphere in full force and I'm lucky to have my friends here doing some awesome mindfuck work. In no order of authority,

• Mr Dinners writes about Angels Over London and a war between good and evil. With brit humor and sarcasm and kickass lucifer character. Lots of drinking, sex and mindfuckers going on here. Check it out here. Judgement Day. Go and leave some comment love.
• Antriksh, our old drug user and sex addict friend who writes only when he is high as a kite and low like a rapper thug. Kid is insane, in short. He is writing something which I am yet to catch up on, but he's got an interesting format. And his Google Image Fu is strong. Check it out at his serial fiction here > The Coup.
• And last but not the least, Mr. Jason Evans, he of the awesome Clarity Of Night fame is doing some serial science fiction at this joint, Clarity Of Night. Great quality of writing, short, snappy and hard driving, check it out here > The Seed.
• *EDIT>> We can't ignore the young guns of blogger, Luciana Jade posts at Stories From Hell 'The Manor' is only at part one right now, if you egg her on with a few comments, I'm sure she will write more! ;)

So as the weather gets hotter, the weekends should be spend indoors, reading and enjoying as many blogs as you can, and ofcourse, when you read, do leave comments, it's only good manners and even a single comment can be fuel for the writer to write more. It DOES make a difference. Writer folk survive on feedback. Be giving.

And, for the hellions among us, those who like their beer strong and their heavy metal loud >> One Million Beers For Metal. This is where it was conceptulized. So, if you're attending a concert and drinking beer, send these peeps a pic, should be easy enough no? They are planning to collect one million pics. So yay!

That's about it for now.

More stories next :)

The License to Fuck

Note: Think of a future where the pollution along with the climate and biological changes has mutated the male genes and the government has erased all memories of sex from people's minds because horny people are trouble. So, in such times, those who need a baby need an official Governmental Fucker to procreate on their behalf. They pay money for people with License To Fuck. The thoughts of people are garbled and fucked up, excess TV, junk food, and information explosion has made them stupid. This is the story of one such stupid couple. Needless to say, but I shall say this anyway, fuck off if you're offended easily.

----------------------------

Mrs. and Mr. 50390 had wanted a baby for such a long time. But they didn't have the license, The License To Fuck.
----
The sky was a musty gray that evening when the hover car floated to a stop outside house number 50390. Mr. 50390 looked at Mrs. 50390 and saw the light of joy in her eyes for the first time in 25 years of their marriage. He was happy too, he was happy for her. He sat on the couch and waited for the Governmental Fucker to barge in through the door. Like they always did. Governmental Fuckers didn't need to knock. All doors were thin air for them. They had the power. Among other privileges.
The man who appeared through the door was an image of slightly less than perfection. His eyes were blue and his hair was black, he was tall with broad shoulders but somewhere something was missing. There was no spark of intelligence in his eyes. His eyes were tired and he was nervous. But he was all Mr. 50390 could afford to get his wife impregnated.

"Please come in," Mr. 50390 said to their guest, even though he was already in, "have a seat."

The man walked to the small couch and sat down across the table where the husband and wife were seated. He said nothing and opened the thin briefcase he was carrying. He took a small cube out of the briefcase, closed the briefcase and set the cube on the briefcase. The cube threw up a spray of mist and the molecules of mist hung in the air to form a screen in which the man started to speak.

"Procreator X2ZZN @50390. Biological Breeding to be initiated by the agent as the subjects don't have a LTF. The agent is geared to breed male chromosomes only."

The husband-wife duo looked mystified at the agent talking numbers and barely intelligible gibberish sentences into the mist. Then, the mist vanished.

He placed the cube back in the briefcase and shrugged. "Datawork. Got to keep the books up to date."

He looked at the husband wife who sat across him, looking at him like dumb sheep. "This is first time for you guys?" the agent asked.

They both nodded in unison.

"Fuck my luck."

"Allright, Mr. 50390, you probably don't want to watch this. Natural insemination is not a pretty sight. No use telling you since you don't have a License To Fuck, but still, you might want to go to another room."

"But this room is all we have," he said, "we sold everything else to get an appointment with you."

The agent looked at the wife. "This might hurt."

She looked back at him, like a terrified but excited animal and nodded.

"The couch it is then." the agent said to himself and started telling the wife everything that happens during the natural process. The husband started setting up and ancient video camera he had bought in a scrap shop. He didn't want to miss his would be son's conception at any cost.

The agent looked at the camera, gave Mr. 50390 thumbs up sign and opened his zipper.

Mrs. 50390 gasped and so did Mr. 50390.
-----------------

A Cartoon...

My entry at Clarity of Night was slightly molested by the some of the comments there, though I must admit I was at fault too, for not clarifying a point clearly in the story. I could have mailed our host Jason to make a slight correction and just remove the word Grandma from the story and make it she, the story would have been fine. But, had it been a print publication would I be able to correct the error? No sir. I thought about it and decided to let the error be.

So, this CoN contest is a lesson to me, to review/edit the stuff I write more carefully. Yup.

On second thoughts, maybe the kid was thinking of doing things to his Grandma.

Geddit?

;)

P.S- I've been busy this side. Some kind of regular story telling will commence soon.

The cartoon above is from here.

Clarity Of Night :: My Entry :: #149 :: Things Boys Do

Hi,
I have entered the Clarity of Night again. I woke up yesterday and wrote the story. Half awake and half asleep. There are mistakes in there but that's a part of the game. I have not written with the idea of winning this time it's just for having fun.

The story is called Things Boys Do and it's entry #149.

Please go there, read and comment if you like.

All said and done, lets all give big applause, thanks and respect to our host,  Jason Evans. With the number of entries going in this contest, the judging process, the managing part of all this, and the prizes. Everything!

Man, doing all that takes some management skills. A BIG thanks to Jason once again.

Here's my story.

Enjoy.

N