Poisonroot - progress and first writings.

I've been working on Poisonroot. I've written a couple of short pieces and one long one, and here is the long one. I'd write more, but it's late and I'm in a bit of pain after aikido class so that will do for now.

 

Duke Fennic’s manor stood in its own grounds, north of the river. A series of large buildings connected by passages, it seemed strangely deserted as Trip and Victor walked towards it. The iron gates stood open and it wasn’t until they were halfway across the sandy courtyard that they were intercepted.

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Two short bits for Poisonroot

I've been prevaricating long enough over this. I had a good long chat with Sue today about the plot to this and she said it seemed to be pretty good, though I'm still having trouble grasping it in my own mind. It's like trying to grab a soap bubble; I don't want to grab it too hard in case I pop it.


Anyway, I've written a couple of pieces of non-story stuff to get the characters better acquainted in my mind. The first is a short piece about Victor. He's old, he misses his wife, he's lonely and he's fed up of kids coming and standing on his roses. The second is a piece about young Trip, aged 6; he's quite advanced for a six-year-old in thinking, I guess, but that's ok. In the main story he'll be about 12, but this is how he ends up doing a job by choice that most others have to be ordered to do, namely working in the Library.
 

Victor grunted and spat into a flowerpot. There were tourists outside his house again, damned bastards, always wandering around and pointin’ at this and that. Damn it, they’d be in the rose bushes in a minute trying to see into his windows.

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100 Themes 025 - Trouble Lurking

Ok, so I had this idea and then decided to fit it around one of the 100 themes. I don't know if the result's any better, but it certainly gave the piece a little bit of structure. The tone's different too; negative theme, so negative tone.

On other news, I lost all the planning I did for this year's NaNoWriMo or National Novel Writing Month. I will still be taking part, though. My ideas must not have been that good, as I've not had an urge to rewrite either of them... still, I like the peacock riders idea. Might work on that.

I'm reading a textbook at the moment, and therefore am in no mood to review a book :D So, here's another 100 theme. Interestingly, I got up early and wrote this before 7.30 in the morning! Rarity for me, if you know what I'm like. I'm usually dead to the world before then, and after then too.

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100 Themes 024 - No Time

Cards on the table-time; this is the first thinking I've done on a long piece of fiction I'm thinking of writing. Something a bit more dramatic than previous things, and better-planned. A family drama, I think it's called; three brothers, two sons, one crown, that sort of tagline. That's not bad, actually. Let me just write that down...

Anyway, there's going to be lions and peacocks being ridden, and bits in the first person, bits in third; it'll be a blast.

Oh, and I've been practising writing in the first person :D
 

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100 Themes 023 - Cat

Now then. I've just got a cat with my darling wife Susan, and I could have written a smushy thing about him. Pfft.

This one is a play on a few things. The picture they're talking about exists; I don't really like it, and Sue does. I have one she doesn't like, so we hang them both, or neither. Fair, see? The smells Cat likes, I like, but she's not me; I just wanted to have a character that liked some of the same things I liked so that I could write about liking them. Selfish, yes.
This isn't based on any reality; Sue and I were never at Uni together, I don't know anyone that's done anything like this... it's just a nice thing based on a few real things. One or two truths in a big pack of lies, I guess. I've been told to 'write what I know'; this has some things I know in it.

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100 Themes 022 - Mother Nature

I make no bones about this; Mother Nature, or Mrs Henson, owes a lot to Stephen King for her existence. I recently finished watching The Stand again, something I encountered in my early teens as a four-part serial, then read. Mother Abagail (I believe that's how it's spelt) is a wonderful voice in my head, a deep South bible bashin' ol' black woman, she won't take no nonsense but if you think you gon' put one over her you got another thing comin'. And so on.

I hope she comes across. There's a certain amount of Day of the Triffids in there too.

Oh, and while I think about it; this represents the start of something. Wonder if you can spot it :D
 

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100 Themes 021 - Vacation

I... don't deal well with enforced relaxation. In fact, I hate it. That's why my writing output goes down when the holidays are on. As a teacher, it's hard to get around the Summer holidays. How Erik feels in this is pretty much spot-on.

Erik von Nesslinger was a character created for a forum RPG a while ago. I recently toyed with resurrecting him but, thinking about it, he's fucking whack; I mean, he's Sean Connery in my head, with a sniping crossbow; what fun is that? The physics of that alone is impossible, the idea that you could have a crossbow that was accurate over a long enough distance to make sniping possible. Unless someone wishes to correct me, Erik will never see the light of day (and now I feel like a kidnapper with a hostage).
 

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100 Themes 020 - Fortitude

This was a toughie. I played with a couple of ideas, and this fell out; it's not great, so I'll stop talking and let you read it :D

 

“Fortitude. Chastity. Faith.”

Sir Clement of the Fairweald murmured these words in time with the other knights around him. He was knelt, as were they all, dressed in full armour, holding his sword out in front of him. The point dug into the ground as he leant on it, standing. The armour was heavy, but he barely noticed its weight.

The Grand Master strode forward to stand in front of the three-tined cross. His own armour was covered in gold, glinting in the light filtering through the high windows.

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100 Themes 018 - Rainbow

I was trying something here; writing without planning. Yes, it's writing a myth as well. But the Mother character has just sat down and is telling this story, or at least that's how I wanted it to come across. There are holes in it, because it's not planned, and she finishes it rather hastily because she's fed up, maybe, or the child wants to sleep. I'm quite pleased with it, as simplistic as it is.
 

 

“A story, is it? Very well.” Mother sat on the seat next to my bed, her knitting needles clicking quietly together. I sat up, suddenly not at all tired despite the heaviness of my eyelids. My duvet was warm, my pillow was soft and the fire crackled in time with the clock on the wall.

“My tale begins hundreds, no, thousands of years ago, and on a world far from this one. 

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100 Themes 017 - Blood

My first thought on looking at this theme was 'Oh god, not vampires'. There seemed to be so many clichés when it came to blood. It runs thicker than water. The rivers run red with it. It always tells, etc etc. Dripping blood, puddles of blood, violence. At time of writing, my capital city, London, is undergoing riots for no apparent reason, and I'm sure there is blood being shed. It's appalling.

This is no less melancholy, but I tried to write it slightly light-heartedly. This person, I feel, is practical about such matters, and knows it would be silly to grieve overlong.

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100 Themes 016 - Questioning

I debated doing lots of things with that theme, 'questioning', but then this crawled out of somewhere. It's pretty horrible, if I say so myself, and though I could have strung it out longer, I needed to end it. I knew where it was going anyway ^^

 

“Where… where am I?”

I blinked, but it didn’t make the bright light go away. My eyes hurt from its glare, and I turned my head, tried to raise a hand to shield myself. My wrists were tied to the arms of the chair I was sat in.

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100 Themes 015 - Silence

I was in a pub with my wife the other day, and there was a poster up advertising a 'Psychic Event'. One-to-one psychic readings for just £30. Seems like a lot of money, but I guess sometimes there can be a certain amount of catharsis in the things they say. We were reading one of those crap magazines, and one of the readers had written in saying that she was upset as she had slept through her husband's last breath, and it was torturing her with guilt. The psychic replied that he had waited until she had slept so that he knew she was peaceful through it. We thought that was actually a really nice thing to say, and might have removed a huge weight of guilt from that person.

Anyway, I was inspired by that and the theme to write this. Enjoy.

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100 Themes 014 - Smile

Had lots of fun with this one, it's broken in the head. A lot of my stuff is at the minute :D Not sure why, but it's fun!


“And, last but not least, the trophy room.”

Their hollow smiles stared down from the walls; a slow count showed fifteen heads, all ages and ethnicities. DCI Neil McCormick swallowed, suddenly feeling a little grey, and moved forward slowly. The handcuffs attached to the suspect jingled as he was pulled along behind. Each head stared out into space as he began his monologue again, blinking behind thick glasses.

“I had to replace their eyes with glass ones, of course; medical prosthetic eyes, very realistic. The skin has been specially treated, and it won’t ever show age. I’m sure you’ve already worked out that, in every case, a large flat blade not unlike a guillotine was used in the beheading. Each one of these has been made exactly to the strictures of the order.”

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100 Themes 013 - Misfortune

This is an idea I've had rattling round for ages, and I'm not certain this does it justice. Basically, there are two girls in America who are different people, but joined at the hip, literally. What they do is spectacular, driving cars fluidly, that sort of thing. Amazing.

But is it a threesome if they have sex? They've only got one set of sex organs, y'know? What if one's a lesbian? Are they bisexual by default? Is masturbation lesbian sex?

So here's my version; not about them, because they're real people, but about two boys with the same issues...

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100 Themes 012 - Insanity

This one was just silliness, I suppose.

 

“Is there anything I can say that will stop you?”

“Nope.”

I shook my head. Damn him, why did he have to be like this? Were all little brothers so infuriating?

“Tell me again what you’re going to do.”

“So that you can pick it apart.” He grinned, his freckled cheeks shining in the bright midday sun.

He turned and pointed at the thundering waterfall. Its rumbling underpinned every sound, and, inured to it, I knew that I would feel its absence when I moved away. There were a few tourists wandering around, one kid with a balloon.

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100 Themes 011 - Memory

I've been without reliable internet recently. Moved house, that's why, and damned internet companies take so long to connect you. I guess I should have gotten onto it quicker. Anyway, here are a few stories.

 

The raven shifted its feet on his arm. Why? This wasn’t one of the skittish creatures that so often flew high overhead, or perched in the trees. What was the significance of this one? It was sleek, plumage black as night; and, as night is seldom black, it held hues of purple, blue and grey, caught in the weave of feathers.

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100 Themes 010 - Breathe Again

I couldn't think of this in any way but the most violent. It's not very long; it IS only a vignette, though.

 

His weight crushed down on me, arm pressing in under my chin. I opened my mouth, tried to draw a breath, but there was just nothing to pull in. I could feel the cold cobbles, wetness soaking into my shirt and pressing a pattern into my back.

He was crying. How strange, a part of me thought.

“Why did you have to do it? Why? God, why?” He was almost whining, and if we’d been in the middle of one of our many arguments I would have needled him for it. Is it any wonder I found comfort and safety in his brother’s arms?

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