Further Remnants of My Reading List

A (still incomplete) continuation of my reading list.

• Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens. Now, I had the misfortune to have to read A Tale of Two Cities too young and sort of decided not to approach Dickens again. Then I read a selection of this for class recently, and I couldn't figure out what I had hated so much about him. 
• Flatland: A Romance of Many Dimensions by Edwin Abbott Abbott. I've heard of it before, and then it was recommended in my Bible, Science, & Human Values class when we were discussing the probability of more than three space dimensions. One of the professors admitted that finding out it was a political satire sort of ruined it for him, though, ha.
• Gutters by glassamilk (on fanfiction.net). I've heard good things about it and browsed the prologue without disliking the writing style. I'm a bit worried about its rating, though hopefully it's just for violence.
• From Fearful to Fearsome by be-nice-to-nerds (on fanfiction.net). I'm not sure how far I got, but I added the story to my favourites without actually finishing it. I should really get to actually reading it through. It's certainly been good enough to warrant it.
• The Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum. The movie was my favourite thing ever as a kid, and I've seen it multiple times, onstage, and I've even played in one onstage (as a munchkin extra, albeit). I've also seen Wicked, Return to Oz, and Oz, the Great and Powerful, but I still haven't read the originals. Doesn't seem quite right.
• Clockwork Princess by Cassandra Clare. I've been reading the two before it, and once I finish this prequel series, I'll go ahead and try the original series. There are some questionable parts, granted, but the writing style is great and with so many beautiful sarcastic comebacks I'd hate to miss any.
• Unwholly by Neal Shusterman. Because it's Neal Shusterman. End of story. Or not—I can't say how much I freaked out when I first saw this book. Unwind is going to be a trilogy! Huzzah! I feel as if I can at last comprehend the reception of Miserable among my readers.
• Railsea by China Mieville. Un Lun Dun was awesome, but when I looked for other books by this author, they were all too, eh, adult-oriented. This one said it wasn't, so I bought it. I probably should have sampled the writing first, because it doesn't seem to have the same flow to it. Ah, well. I'm sure it's still worth reading.
• The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexander Dumas. One of those "uber-classic, must read" types. Also considering The Three Musketeers.
• Sherlock Holmes series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. My dad actually made me read some of it for punishment, so it doesn't exactly hold the best memories for me. At the same time, I feel like it would be fun to read if I can get past that.

(Also, we've now hit 1000 pageviews! Thanks!)

New Fiction Idea #17

Got the spark to do some version of The Wizard of Oz, and then suddenly things started hitting me. I'm pretty excited for this.

Working Title: Sector-O, Galaxy-Z193-9

Genre: Sci-Fi

Protagonist: Tommy, a sixteen-year-old human boy with short, dark hair. He's on the short side, but he's fit enough without really being an athlete. He's easily frazzled, a bit reckless, and very loyal. His father Michael abandoned his family when he was six, and he's very teen-angsty about it.

Other Main Characters: Kaliause, an eighteen-year-old mostly-human woman of mixed Asian heritage (though she's never seen Asia—or Earth for that matter—in her life). Due to a crash accident, about half of her brain has been replaced digitally, but it's not reliable technology, and she often blanks out on information at bad times. She's very tough and reasonably caring but hates her condition.
Stannum, a Reclaimed human who died at about fifty but has been functioning for thirteen years since his infusion with cybertronics. He works in a graveyard when the technology is functioning enough for him to move. He's not in good shape and he knows it, but he carries on day by day wishing for the real life he once had.
Liutas, a former High Command military officer who's about thirty. He's a very large and well-built furry humanoid alien. A situation of torture has more or less broken him, and he fled the military afterwards despite the already-low soldier count. Rejected from society and wanted by the authorities, he leads a shamed and reclusive life.

Antagonist: Vonda, leader of the faction waging war against the High Command. She's determined to take down Michael, the last uncorrupted member of the High Command, and whoever stands with him. On her side are several minions, including the Nefret, a loyal (or, forced to be loyal through brain wiring) species of flying creatures with six long limbs and high intelligence, and the Subaltern, her private police/military force.
Many others involved in various facets of the war, or just being jerks, could also stir up trouble.

Setting: See title. While Tommy is from future Earth and knows nothing of the other worlds at the beginning of the story, the others (and where the story takes place) are from Valka, a war-torn planet of the above galaxy. Technology is advanced but usually not that enduring.

Plot: After doing angsty rebellious teen things in a restricted area, Tommy runs from the police and hides in what he doesn't realise is an experimental warp travel device. He inadvertently activates it and ends up crash-landing on Valka. First to help him is Hea, a blonde girl who tells him how to find his father before vanishing. Travel goes relatively well at first, but soon the news that Michael's son is in the area spreads, and Tommy finds himself banding together with Kaliause, Stannum, and Liutas as the three try to make it to Michael for their own ends.

Point of View: Third-person, limited to different characters but mostly Tommy.

I've always wanted to do something based on the music video for "Silent Running" by Mike & the Mechanics, and when I decided to try a sci-fi take on The Wizard of Oz, it came to mind. I really hope I get to write this, and figure out just what I can throw in to make it a trilogy, which would seem cool.

Better title suggestions are welcome.

Thanks to Sharon and the rest for helping me figure out how to make my Tin Man tick (or not tick, as the case may be).

(Also, going through Google Translate for names for my Lion, I ran into both "Aslan" and "Simba." See, I'm not the only one who does this!)

New Fan Fiction Idea #4

One of those ideas I've had for a while but keep forgetting to put down.

Working Title: When Fangirls Attack

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Genre Tags: Humour/Parody, or Romance/Parody

Length: Multichapter

Protagonist: England

Antagonist: Hordes of fangirls

Setting: Modern day, mostly in the vicinity of England's house.

Plot: England is feeling unloved one day and decides the best remedy is to summon his fangirls. Unfortunately, he slips up a bit in the spell, and hordes of fangirls for several nations (somehow also provided with shirts in the image of the flag of their preferred nations) appear. Now England has to stop them from mobbing their beloved ones, starting fan wars, and, most of all, ordering him to make out with nations he'd really rather not.

Point of View: Third person, limited to England.

It's basically a merciless satire of yaoi fangirls, with some prodding at us "normal" fangirls as well.

Macbay Transportation Services Excerpt

Here's a sample of a situation in Macbay Transportation Services I felt like writing. It's not at all the beginning of the story, but some version of this event will be part of the novel. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Yawning, Macbay watched the yellow-orange of Laurie's headlamps pass over the main street of Havil. There were few passersby at this hour, but there were plenty of buildings at either side of the pavement. Needless to say, there could still be some nasty damage if he let the truck drift off the road. He wasn't on a trip, anyway. No need to stay awake too awfully long.

Humming faintly, he led the truck past some number of buildings before a reasonably large parking space opened up to the right. After briefly checking for pedestrians, he pulled over, parked straight enough, and killed the engine. 

It's not worth it to put the lights out, he decided, briefly swishing some mouthwash and spitting it out the side window. Kicking off his heavy shoes, he locked the doors and climbed onto the thin mattress in the back of the cab.

He had been asleep for a short while when a heavy, repetitive clanking woke him. Checking his pocketwatch with a groan, he rubbed his eyes and sat up. The metallic clanking paused before resuming more loudly.

"I'm coming," hollered Macbay, sitting up. The racket finally stopped.

Now let's just hope it's not someone here to arrest me. I'm pretty sure there's still evidence for something or other hanging around somewhere.

With a grunt, he pulled himself back into the driving seat and stuck his head and shoulders out of the open window. It wasn't yet dawn, but there were enough flickering flames in streetlights for him to see the figure just outside, hovering near the advertising panel of the truck.

It was a lady—or maybe just "woman" would be appropriate, given the hour she was out and the general lack of clothing on her person. Although a short-sleeved sienna jacket covered most of her upper body, the front of her tight-fitting button-up shirt was visible. Aside from that, she was wearing short pants of all things, the hemmed edges more than halfway up her thigh. While her outfit was certainly less than modest, Macbay didn't mind much.

I think this'll be a fun drive.

"Looking for a ride?" Macbay started.

"Yes, and fast," she responded, voice cold. 

Macbay reached to tip his hat before realizing he wasn't wearing it. "I can manage that. Climb on in."

The woman gave a curt nod and hurried to the passenger door. Macbay unlocked it for her, and she stepped inside, slamming the panel shut behind her.

"Where are we headed?" Macbay started, slipping on his shoes as he got the engine cranking.

"Anywhere," the woman replied breathlessly, setting down a black bag and glancing out of the window.

"Careful what you say," Macbay replied with a grin, coaxing Laurie to start moving forwards. "Might have to travel pretty far with a nice-looking girl like you."

The woman's only reply was a "hmph" as she crossed her arms.

Around the truck echoed the clanking of the engine in full swing as Macbay pulled out of the parking space. Tossing on his hat, he glanced sideways at the woman, who continued to check the windows and mirrors.

"Might I inquire your name, miss?" he started.

She glanced at him before checking behind them again and finally pulling her head into the vehicle. "Loretta May."

"Sounds like a lovely name to me."

Crossing her legs, she didn't turn her head to look at him. "Shut up and drive, Macbay."

"All right, then." Turning off of the main street, Macbay pressed harder on the coal pedal, and the two went off into the night without another word.

Oh, well. She'll fall for my charms soon enough.

The Length and Breadth of It

This week was full of writing fan fiction, a ten-page paper on Ambrose Bierce's use of the grotesque, and a four-page paper on the epigenetic effects of the Dutch Winter Hunger famine. Naturally, I came to wonder why I'm (if not particularly confident) comfortable with writing fan fiction, while these other writings felt more akin to having my teeth scraped at the dentist's.

One idea I targeted was that I don't like nonfiction. I don't have a tendency to read it, nor do I enjoy reading history books, no matter whether other students think a certain section was better than others. On the other hand, I like reading most types of fiction, particularly speculative, but not those that too closely try to mimic real life, like things based in high school (other than Seven Pieces of Chalk. If you are in a period of your life that is relatively stable emotionally, I demand that you read it, whether you're familiar with Hetalia or not). All of my fan fictions and original fictions are very much, well, fiction. Yet here I am, writing nonfiction in a blog, pretty much for enjoyment.

Next I thought it was the research. I definitely didn't like reading fancy literary journals, or most of my other sources (with the exception of an introduction written by someone named Italo). When I write stories, I really avoid all non-pathological research whenever possible. Yet I have found myself spending significant amounts of time browsing Google Earth satellite images of my setting in The Long and Winding Road. I've even done some very basic (read: rarely more than one paragraph of Wikipedia) research on historical topics for Hetalia fan fiction.

Maybe it's the formal tone of research papers? I prefer a more loose and snarky tone in my works, even if some characters' POV sections are more syntactically complex, etc. Yet I write entire formally-worded chemistry lessons in one of my fan fictions.

I guess it's some combination of the above that can't quite be generalised. I don't like nonfiction in general, but I make exceptions. It's also nice that, in my blog posts, it makes absolutely no difference how many words I use (although I do have word count requirements in almost all of my fan fictions). I don't like doing research unless it's either something that honestly interests me or for something that honestly interests me. I feel like formal writing is much too restrictive, but, utilised in small amounts for ultimately ironic purpose, it's all right.

Not that I'm absolutely sure about all of that. I'm terrible at judging my feelings in general.

Anyone else in a similar situation?

New Fiction Idea #16

Ah, wordplay, what you inspire...

Working Title: A Murder of Crows

Genre: Mystery

Protagonist: Davey, a nightingale detective. He's fairly standard as far as the "hard-boiled detective" archetype goes, but he does have a fondness for food in general.

Other Main Characters: Benny, a raven with some sort of paranoid complex. He's the favoured suspect of the murders (killings, not the remaining crows) and hires Davey to make him a case.

Antagonist: It's... a mystery. But someone's certainly wanting to make Benny look guilty... And it's entirely possible they'll strike again.

Setting: A 1920s city and its outskirts, including a large meadow and some farms. All bird species can communicate with each other. The community of birds is ruled by a parliament of owls.

Plot: A murder of crows... has been murdered. While the local unkindness of ravens is the first to be blamed, a party of jays, a cast of hawks, a cauldron of raptors, a clamour of rooks, a deceit of lapwings (and so on) aren't safe from blame, either. It's up to Davey to find the perpetrator before he/she/it/they can strike again.

Point of View: First person (Davey).

Because puns.

New Fan Fiction Idea #3

I strangely really wanted to write this for a while, but now I've decided it's just too... down-and-dirty? for me. I might as well post the idea, though.

Working Title: This, That, and Rock 'n' Roll

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers, human alternate-universe

Genre Tags: Drama, possibly also Friendship or Angst

Length: Definitely multichapter; maybe even a two- or three-part series.

Protagonists: "The Allies," a rock band consisting (predictably) of the Allies. Francis is the frontman/vocalist, Arthur is the lead guitarist, Alfred is the drummer, Ivan is the bassist, and Yao is keyboard/rhythm guitar. Of the "this, that, and rock 'n' roll," all qualify for the third category, but Francis is particularly caught up in the "this" and Arthur in the "that." Ivan is widely known to be an unconvicted murderer of sorts. Everyone but certain fangirls and the hardcore fans thinks Yao is a girl.  Alfred is Alfred.

Antagonists: Most conflict arises within the group. There are also plenty of band-related people that can be manipulative, as well as the possibility of a battle with some new band called "The Axis"...

Setting: Modern day-ish America.

Plot: It's basically a biography of the band, from formation through changes (the drummer is replaced by someone with an uncannily similar appearance, for example) until the complete breakup.

Point of View: Third person, limited to various members at various times.

I could try to clean it up and write it, but it doesn't seem like that would do the story justice.

Writing Tools

What do you use to write?

I've never really been one for writing on paper. I do exchange letters with a friend--who gave me a fancy pen and ink!--but my handwriting is too junky and slow for writing my stories that way to appeal to me. Also, marking out ink annoys me. I have done some writing with pencil in journal, though only out of necessity. I jotted down sections of my NaNo novel whenever I could, which usually wasn't near a computer. I've also written pieces of What If in a drawing journal because I was at church camp with no computer access. Basically, I don't like writing in hand in general, but if I need to write enough, I'll do it.

On the other hand, I've never tried any fancy writing software. There were all of these discounts offered to NaNoWriMo winners, and I've heard people singing the praises of Scrivener and some other things in the NaNo forums. I've never tried any, because they all tend to cost money, but I don't know it would be worth it. I've made it this far on Microsoft Word and the fanfiction.net Document Editor. Then again, I'm not quite published, am I? I may look more into these things, though I seriously doubt I would ever spend money on it, because I'm just terribly cheap.

Does anyone have experience with writing software, or detailed recommendations? Coupons? Tips on improving handwriting?

New Fiction Idea #15

This seems to be one of my more light-hearted novel ideas. It stemmed from my mother calling someone with a deflated-looking chef's hat "an exiled chef" and my father saying we should eat our ice cream while watching people in the gym through the front window of the building like a zoo exhibit.

Working Title: Revolution

Genre: ...Humour?

Protagonist: Lorenzo Emmerich, a twenty-something man with thin, auburn hair. He's overweight, quite annoying, and not very handsome. He does, however, have a passion and a talent for cooking.

Other Main Characters: Deirdre, an inhabitant of Sterven Island who is overweight from a glandular issue. She's not very self-confident, but she's kind and more likely to be amused than annoyed by antics.
Jonah, an inhabitant of Sterven Island who is as fit as the rest but is also an exile. He works at the port and is thus able to do some smuggling. He's a bit too much of a ladies' man, but he's not self-centered.

Antagonist: The other inhabitants of Sterven Island, who mock the exiles and cling stubbornly to their ways of life.

Setting: Sterven Island, a place where everyone is raised from birth to be a health nut and is appalled by anything remotely unhealthy and its possible effects. It is modern-day, although no one's willing to sit in front of a screen for long. Print newspapers are still popular. The island is very much secluded but is under the jurisdiction of the more normal continental landmass of Himins.

Plot: Lorenzo manages to annoy most of the officials of Himins to death (not literally), and, as punishment, they exile him to Sterven Island. Completely rejected and without a job, he wanders destitute through the streets before befriending Dierdre and Jonah, and together they decide to erase the health-freak inhibitions of the islanders, but it won't be easy. Much weirdness, "Fat Pride" parades, and artery-clogging ensues.

Point of View: Third-person, omniscient.

Certainly it would be something silly. We'll see if I ever decide to play with it more.

(Also, 50th post! Hooray! I think.)

New Fiction Idea #14

This was somehow inspired by having to read and discuss part of The Communist Manifesto in class. (Also, I'm totally imagining Russia lingering over "In proportion as the antagonism between classes within the nation vanishes, the hostility of one nation to another will come to an end" with a sort of (*0*) face and interpreting it to mean it would make everyone friends with him... Anyway.)

Title: Backbone (could be changed)

Genre: U/Dystopian Fiction

Protagonist: Hannah Sherman, a seventeen-year-old blonde who's a bit underfed but very strong from the harsh work she endures. She's a bit of a tired cynic who very much wishes she could just create guitar music but knows she has no chance and thus buckles down for her farm work.

Other Main Characters: Ian Cariaga, a twenty-something man with dark hair and a pale complexion. He is tall with an unimpressively average build, acts a bit feverish in general, and will avoid work whenever possible.
Corey Fisher, a nineteen-year-old male with hazel eyes and dark brown hair. He's the same height as Hannah and rather bony. He's a whiz at composing music, and he's usually quite light-hearted, but he holds a grudge against the government.

Antagonist: The government? (Yay, dystopia.)
Everyone Hannah meets in her journey could potentially be a threat if they bring her up too often, even if they give her a lot of help and aren't themselves suspicious of her.

Setting: Hannah has grown up working in the intolerably difficult fields of Gherrum, around no known family and few good friends. The heat can get extreme, there is almost no health service, there are no excuses not to work, and an air of hopelessness hangs over the place. Completely unknown to the field workers, factory workers miners, etc. is a great state to the north, Fyllan. With those below supporting them materially, they are free to do anything. There are no families, only communities; whatever one's passion is is what that person does, where in the state they live, and who they are. People draw inspiration from others in their group and are free to move from group to group as they please (although if they can't find one they like enough... things can get bad for them). It's overall an extremely pleasant place full of fulfilled dreams and all that good stuff.

Plot: Ian, one of the lucky chosen from birth to be raised in Fyllan, is a bit mentally off and, more importantly, wholly undedicated to work. After many missed opportunities, he suddenly disappears from his latest community and is transported to Gherrum. In the much stricter environment, it is impossible for him to continue to be unproductive, but he still complains like nothing else—this and his instability combined allow few to listen to him. Hannah, however, does—and one day Ian manages to tell her about Fyllan. Hannah is inspired to escape there and live out her dream. She manages it somehow, joining with the community of musicians (which has subdivisions, of course, but we need not get into that yet) and very much befriending Corey. Still, the shadow of her birth determination to Gherrum hangs over her, and she must face several issues before she can enjoy her guitar work in peace.

Point of View: Third person, limited to Hannah.

This actually seems to have combined with an idea written for a Scribes meeting. I don't mind that.

I'm not sure exactly which way the plot goes once Hannah gets to Fyllan, aside from her being in hiding somewhat, but this is in its earliest stages. Any comments or suggestions are welcome, as always.

My Current Incomplete Reading List

One can't be a writer without being a reader as well. In fact, I really only consider myself I reader—I'm just too impatient to wait for someone else to write some of my ideas.

And so I came to decide to post some of my reading list. I'll always forget a work or two on these, and I'm always hearing about new books, so I may have a sequel at some point if enough readers (likely meaning one, given the average number of readers on any given post) are interested.

In no particular order, we have:

• Dirk Gently series by Douglas Adams. It's by Douglas Adams. That's my entire rationale behind wanting to read it, and, in my opinion, not a bad one at all. It was also recommended to me by Dr. Patton.
• Monsters by Ilsa J. Bick. Those of you who stalk my fan fiction profile know I've been reading Ashes and Shadows, and this seems to be the last book of the series. (I'm not sure if it's out yet, but that's fine since I'm still in the middle of Shadows.) The whole thing is sort-of-sort-of-not a zombie apocalypse, but it's well-written and engaging. There's a bit too much swearing, but it's generally spaced out enough among the 500 pages not to get too bad.
• Satires by Juvenal. We read a bit for class, and satire is just fun.
• Gulliver's Travels by Jonathan Swift. See above. We actually read A Modest Proposal for class, and his satire is so overwhelmingly crossing-the-line-too-much-to-count that I'm interested in more. I also feel like this is a typical novel people read.
• Whatever the title is going to be by Simon Batt. Although a lot of the my fellows at 2YN have some awesome ideas, I really need to read what he's doing once he publishes. He already has something out called Books and Stripes, so I may check that out first.
• Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. I've only heard good things about it, and it also feels like one of those novels that everyone is supposed to read.
• A million (or at least a few dozen) things by Shakespeare. See reasoning for Douglas Adams.
• Don Quixote by Cervantes. I also read a selection of this for class, and it was beautiful. I hear the entire thing is painfully long, but I feel like I could stand it.
• Encarceron by Catherine Fisher. I thought it sounded interesting, so I bought it. I hadn't heard anything about it before I randomly saw it in a bookstore, though.
• Various things by C.S. Lewis. I've already read Chronicles of Narnia (although perhaps I was pretty late in doing that just a few years ago), but I hear he writes some very popular Christian material. Normally I don't do nonfiction, but it could be worth a shot.
• Works of Edgar Allan Poe. Hopefully he's one of those writers(/poets) who sort of speaks for himself. It sounds like he writes my kind of stuff.
• The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne. I've only read some of his short stories (loved "Rappaccini's Daughter"), but I like his style. This also seems like a sort of classic novel.
• Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. Another classic thing that seems to be in my genre.
• Dracula by Bram Stoker. See above. I may also have a free version on my nook?
• Witch & Wizard series by James Patterson. I liked Maximum Ride (some more than others, for certain), and my mother has recommended this series. I think I'll read it on the plane rides to Asia this summer.
• "Who Could That Be at This Hour?" by Lemony Snicket. I love his style. For some reason, I never finished The End of A Series of Unfortunate Events, but I might as well jump into this. It's listed as children's fiction, but who cares? I'm reading enough "adult" stuff to cover it, I think.
• War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy. I'm honestly not sure if I'll make it through this one, but Dr. McBride (English professor) recommends it, and it seems like something with which I should at least be familiar.
• Works of Jules Verne. I've already read Journey to the Center of the Earth (which was apparently two for a dollar at Wal-Mart), and, if I'm really going to get into the whole steampunk deal, he seems to be a necessity.
• The Iliad by Homer. Another one of those things it seems everyone should read/know.

That's all I have at the moment, but it's probably enough for a while. What do you think? Any recommendations? Anything you want to read now that I've mentioned it?

New Fan Fiction Idea #2

Had this idea a while ago, but a Western Thought study session just brought it back to mind.

Title: [something incredibly stupid translated into Italian] (could be changed)

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Genre Tags: Humour, possibly Parody or Friendship

Length: Multichapter, though with shorter individual chapters

Protagonist: Germany

Antagonist: ...Italy, I guess.

Setting: Either modern-day or WWII-ish. That vague setting where all of the training things take place.

Plot: Italy slacks off hopelessly in training. Italy will cheerfully run himself ragged to successfully act out an opera. Solution? Compose an opera that will put Italy through all sorts of training exercises without him realizing it. At least, Germany thinks it's worth a shot.

Point of View: Third person, limited to Germany.

I feel like this could be incredibly fun. I'm not sure about trying to put an entire opera into just novel format, but I could be swayed. I've always wanted to compose some sort of silly opera.

Pitchapalooza 3

Pitchapalooza startled and awed audiences with its possibilities.

Pitchapalooza 2 pushed audiences further, with Journey-acclaimed critics calling it awesome and exciting.

And now the release of Pitchapalooza 3 is ready to stun the viewers further...

...until it completely bombs at the box office and turns out to be worthless to pretty much everyone involved.

And so it seems that my novel pitch is not among those the Book Doctors selected. Ah, well. It wasn't as if I thought winning it—let alone being chosen randomly—was that realistic.

That was still the best odds I could possibly have of getting an agent, but oh, well. Self-publishing digitally it is!

Once I actually finish the story. And maybe after redoing the cover, although I need practice drawing people holding hands for my current idea...

The Thing About Fan Fiction…

...is that it has no hope of being published. Aside from my usual phases of panic that everything I write is rubbish and would never sell, the writing that consumes almost all of my time is absolutely unsellable due to copyright.

If my goal is to get published, then it seems logical that I should spend more time on publishable writing than fan fiction. Certainly I'm not about to stop updating Break Out or The Long and Winding Road, but updating as quickly as I feel the need to takes up time I could be using more productively towards getting published. I do feel like any writing is a good way to get experience, but just look at my other posts—I have tons of original fiction ideas to toy with. Still, fan fiction has the benefit of attracting attention while in-progress, so I don't have to wait until I'm done to get feedback on my writing.

Fan fiction is a different beast than original fiction, as I've very much come to consider in the process of converting The Long and Winding Road from one to the other. Even if they do share a lot of elements, there are also quite a few differences, so the experience I get from fan fiction isn't 100% going towards what I could use in original fiction.

Basically, it just comes down to how productive I want to be. More original fiction time = less fan fiction time. I do want to have fun, though it seems a little weird for fan fiction to be my inception-hobby with writing as my hobby and something else altogether as my occupation. It's a weird balancing act that I'm definitely going to have to shift if I want to make progress on publishable original fiction.

I'm not sure just how or how much I'm going to wean myself off of fan fiction. I hate to disappoint readers, so I don't expect to change any habits as far as already-published (on fanfiction.net) works go, but I feel like I might shift to a slower-updating existence once the second of my big series is over.

Does anyone else have experience with or tips for this?

New Fiction Idea #13

Somehow came to me while doing the environmental unit in chemistry (which makes me happy for the sole reason I haven't already had those lessons).

Title: Mount (could be changed)

Genre: Steampunk

Protagonist: Theodore Florence, a twenty-something young man with dark hair, olive skin, and hazel eyes. He's tall but skinny and dresses very well. His family is filthy-rich, and he's grown up in a sheltered place that let him stay cheerfully naive. He has an extremely positive view of human progress. He is stubborn and may be prone to challenging others to a duel-to-the-death if he doesn't get what he wants.

Other Main Characters: Daphne, Theodore's 19-year-old sister. Her skin and hair are lighter than her brother's, but they certainly have a family resemblance. She keeps her very long hair in a fancy updo and has a weakness for elaborate dresses and hats. She's very sympathetic towards others. She's just as naive as her brother but handles affronts to her fantasy world a bit better.
Dobson and Crick, two high-class engineers in the Florences' service. They're both well-built geniuses (though Dobson is a bit on the short side) that have fallen on hard times. They'll happily work on foolish projects just for the money.

Antagonist: At this point, nature and the laws of physics. There could be other opposition as the story progresses.

Setting: Typical steampunk universe. The actual story takes place in a Himalaya-type area, specifically their world's largest mountain. It has enough areas of vegetation to support some wildlife and peoples but is mostly rock face. The incline generally increases as the mountain goes up, and there are no roads beyond a few simple foot trails.

Plot: Theodore wants to build a railroad straight up the side of the mountain, more or less just because he can. Given the track and train won't be serving any real jobs, Dobson and Crick  manage to work some steampunk engineering magic (depending of the advice of my engineer friends, it could involve actual magic if necessary) and start building the rails. The trip does not go smoothly, however, and Theodore's insistence on watching the entire process—and Daphne's tendency to follow him everywhere—starts to take a toll as the comforts available drop off. Still the Florences and their workers continue, challenging themselves to get past natural obstacles and the troublesome natives until they reach the summit.

Point of View: First person (Theodore).

Seems like pretty standard steampunk stuff. If the physics is a bit too much, I could make them try to get to the top to build a zeppelin airport, but that seems a little less fun.

New Fiction Idea #12

Inspired by a painting, curiously enough.

Title: Family of Ibro (could be changed)

Genre: Fantasy

Protagonist: Gavin Ibro, a 16-year-old with the family's typical short, dark hair and green eyes. He can be quite impulsive but is very compassionate. He's very easily upset and not afraid to cry. He has a good build, though he wouldn't dare hit anyone.

Other Main Characters: Shara, Gavin's mother. She's sweet but strong and devoted entirely to the family's cause. She's rather gaunt and naturally has an accumulation of scars.
Angus, Gavin's 18-year-old brother. Though they have many siblings, Angus is the closest to Gavin and has the best sense of humour.

Antagonist: Clark Seeley, a military leader who seeks revenge against a political faction, and those who work for him.

Setting: Typical medieval fantasy. Magic-users are a fairly large minority, and each brand of magic is limited to one family, with foreign blood somewhat diluting the power. The Ibros (and they're always Ibros—if a man marries into the family, he must change his surname) have the ability to take upon themselves the sufferings, physical and emotional, of others, including madness and death. This ability is relatively automatic when sufferers are close, though for others farther away, each Ibro can establish a connection to one or many people and erase their suffering even after they have moved away. Over the generations, the Ibros have built familial philosophies and systems dedicating themselves to this work.

Plot: Clark wishes death on those who stunted his rise to power, but he cannot do any harm to them while the Ibros are in town. He drives most of the family away, but Gavin and most of his household, along with a few very dedicated cousins, remain. They try to set up connections with Clark's political rivals while avoiding detection, for at this point Clark has vowed to kill any lingering Ibros.

Point of View: Undecided. Likely one centred on Gavin, though.

I feel like this could turn out to be quite interesting. I certainly don't have time to write it at the moment, but I may try writing some random scenes and seeing how I like it (and posting them here, of course).

The Annals of World-Building I

As I mentioned in its standard writeup, I've been doing some extensive world-building in the world of Macbay Transportation Services. I figure I could use as much feedback on that as on any other part of the story, so why not do a little sharing?

The map of the mainland is one of the first world-building exercises I did. Apologies for my handwriting, and for the image size (I tried the "X-Large" setting here, but the words weren't legible).

I did some slight naming changes after scanning it onto the computer (Lavil to Havil and Helmland to Helmalann), but otherwise the original ideas haven't changed much. Lines represent major roads (usually alongside railways), though they're not all in great condition, as Macbay can attest. Rivers and lakes should be obvious; major bridges are double lines over expanses of water. The triple points are mountainous/very hilly areas, the sets of three lines are swampy areas, and the clustered circles are forest. Cities with blank circles are less populous. Mayport is the capital.

Macbay is from Avalanche City on Donnelon Island, Loretta May is from Jamber way up north on Rinheart, and Max is Mayport-born-and-bred. None of the mains represent Milsin Island, but it's not that important and is colloquially referred to as "Vet Island" since a whopping amount of war veterans settle down there.

There aren't many natural landmarks, but Wickport has a rather famous and ornate lighthouse open to tourism. Setchport has a clocktower, and Mayport has "Statue Park," a large field monument with various statues of leaders and warriors in a chronologically-ordered winding line of bronze statues.

Havil is the coal center of the mainland (though the "Coal Islands" or Lesser Colonies are that for the whole Empire). Central City is the tech city of the place, while most immigrants stay near Wickport. Fog (named that for a reason) has the nation's best university, although Mayport has its own uni and a good law school (which Max attended). Kinnick is a big producer of fish, though it's not that heavily populated.

Rinheart Island may have a lot more farmland, but Donnelon is the one associated with the country bumpkins. Near Central City and Mayport, those from Rinheart are generally considered snobs, while there's not a solid impression of those farther north or south. "Easterners" and "Westerners" are from the respective sides of Donnelon, while "Northerners" and "Southerners" are from Rinheart.

I don't have a good handle on distances, so I haven't provided a scale. As of now, the place is a bit larger than Japan, though that could change as the plot needs it (don't want Macbay to get to his destinations too awfully quick).

So that's the basic writeup for our mainland. Just wait until I post their world map...

These Dreams

I had a bizarre dream this morning, but I can't remember it for anything now. It would have been nice to have the time to write it down.

I've been considering starting a dream journal for a while. My dreams rarely fail to amuse me, but just like my story ideas—or, more extremely than my story ideas—they fade in and out of my mind. I've tried just rehearsing events that happened, but if I don't write them down—sometimes telling others doesn't even do it—it'll be gone by the end of Genetics class.

Dreams are good for a lot more than vague amusement, too. The idea for Chemists came from one of my dreams. The idea for Entrapped came from the dream of a friend of a friend. Even if loads of pons firing is total rubbish, there are some interesting little gems to be retrieved in all of it.

Would you be interested in reading some of my dreams on here? I still have a few fairly recent ones—and the legendary twin squirrels dream—I could put, though I can't guarantee I'll remember anything that comes up later, or have any sort of predictability as to whether I dream something interesting or not. Nor can I say any of it will be worth reading, but it could give one of us some inspiration, I think.

Any recommendations for dream journals? I still have a mostly-empty moleskine (apparently they're a big deal) that I used a bit in NaNoWriMo, and I had been considering using it. I'm probably not going to be able to type everything up here in time, so I'll have to write it down somehow.

Also, I name a lot of my blog posts after songs...

Life, the Author, and Everything

Life and I have a complicated relationship. Throw in writing, and we have quite a love-hate triangle, constantly battling over each other's hearts and, mostly, time.

How do you balance writing with life? I usually do well enough, but this year has been a brutal tug-of-war in life's favour. Several classes are to blame, though I'm most upset about chemistry (taking it for the third time, after scoring a 5 on the AP test and getting A's every other time—needless to say, it's a hugely frustrating way to tear through time without actually learning anything). I have to kick myself into NaNoWriMo mode to get out 500 words or so of Break Out after a weary day, and I can forget about seriously pursuing other stories at the same time.

Of course, writing is very much based off life, so I'll handle whatever happens knowing I can use it somehow. Perhaps not always quite so optimistically as I just made it sound, but nonetheless handle it.

Time is really the only good weapon life tends to use against me. Crushing stress about exams—I go to writing for freedom. Death of awesome uncle—I apologized to readers if the quality was bad and kept writing, anyway. But loads of chemistry lab work and research paper outlines—there go my hopes of writing (and escape) for the next few days.

Ah, well. I'm sure this happens to everyone.

Mayflies (NFI#2) Revisited

I've been putting Mayflies through my online 2YN course, and it's had quite a few changes so far. The setting is now Mayan now (though that's thanks to a school friend). That's probably the biggest shift (no more blonde main characters, it seems!), but it's been an interesting journey so far, and I'll be glad to keep it up.

A recent assignment was to write a few paragraphs from first-person, and the same scene in third-person. Since my plan has been to alternate between Jonathan and Matthew in first-person, I wrote up three sections. Although the 2YN forum is limited to the participants, I figured I could share what I wrote here.

Third person:  The tips of stone terraces peeked over the treetops. Neither of the twins could see any more of the city—let alone its inhabitants—at this distance, but that only meant that no one could see them. "I think I'll take a look over," Matthew started, spreading out his wings and looking to his brother for permission. Jonathan crossed his arms. "Don't get caught." Answering with only a nod, Matthew flapped his wings a bit and lunged into the air. Taking a moment to catch his breath—flying wasn't the most fun when he hadn't had anything to eat lately—he pumped his wings harder and harder, ascending high enough any casual observer below could mistake him for a bird. Ignoring the increasing burn in his chest, he swept over the squiggles and squares of the main city until a wide, layered field of maize rippled below him. If he hadn't been the responsible one, he would have swooped down and ripped through the field, plucking whatever would come up and taking off again. But he couldn't get much that way, and he wasn't about to alert the locals Mayflies were around, or Jonathan wouldn't be able to come and get his share. Mouth watering, he swallowed and pitched away, wind whistling and shrieking past his ears as he soared back towards the forest. First person (Matthew): I haul myself onto a low branch, letting my throbbing feet dangle. Just over the next patch of trees, stone temple tops seem to poke out of the leaves. Finally. We haven't had food in so long we can barely fly. I still ought to give it a look-over, though. They could be expecting us—we may be far from the last city we robbed, but news travels fast—and if we walk up to an edge of town without food, we'll be chased out long before we can get to any food. Leaning back to see Jonathan climbing a bit higher into the tree, I start, "I think I'll take a look over." He stops, hooking his knees over a branch and flipping himself back to look at me. Crossing his arms, he just closes his eyes and says, "Don't get caught." With a nod, I stand, gripping a higher branch to keep my balance as I give my wings a few preliminary flaps. I throw myself back into the air with a grunt and slowly fly higher up, getting used to the exertion before picking up the pace. It's harder to breathe the higher I go, but the last thing I want to do is be spotted for what I am. If I look small enough, they ought to think I'm just a bird. Flying straight across now, I watch the pale, writhing roads and darker squares and lumps of buildings pass by beneath. My lungs are really burning by the time I see the right edge of town—an unmistakable farm, its rows of maize ducking and bobbing in the wind. I can smell my meal roasting already. Somehow as intently as I'm watching the maize, I don't realize it's getting bigger for a few moments. Although, really... no one seems to be around at the moment. Would it really hurt if I grabbed some now? No, no. I pull back up into the air, still circling. Ask those kind of questions, and a demon'll be after me in no time. I'll wait. I can't carry enough for the both of us, and if I act now, someone could figure it out before Jonathan can get here safely. Even if they don't suspect Mayflies, they'd at least post a watch—and if they find Jonathan like that, he'll get speared for sure. That's not going to happen on my watch. I finally turn away from the field, wind whistling and shrieking past my ears as I soar towards the forest. First person (Jonathan): I think I see a temple, but I'm not about to go flying to check. Not that I don't love flying—who wouldn't?—but because no one else loves me flying. Sometimes I think they're just jealous, but that's not it. It's more like... zealous. And while I've never heard of any angel telling people to hate Mayflies, it must be some implicit rule that people just really like to follow. Really, I love being cursed with wings. With flight. I just hate people who hate us for it. Unfortunately, that seems to be everyone but Mom. So instead of quickly revealing myself to anyone around who would either run screaming to the king or try to kill me then and there, I just use tree branches to get a little higher. There's not all that much climbing room, but the stone steps rise a bit with every branch. It's definitely a temple. Definitely a city, too, then. "I think I'll take a look over." Stopping, I hook my knees over a branch and lean back to look at Matthew. Despite stating his plan, he's still waiting for approval before going into action. I can't say I mind, most of the time. Caution is a good thing for any cursed person. I may have trouble with it from time to time, but that's why there are two of us. Me, to jump into things when immediate action is needed, and him, to dig me out of it if I mess up. Crossing my arms, I just say, "Don't get caught." He nods and, after readying his wings, takes off. He stalls a bit once he's in the air, and I can hear him panting over the rushes of wind from his wings. One of the reasons we have to steal food. If we hold out hoping someone will give it to us honestly, we just starve more. Get weaker. Stealing might be condemned, but so is murder. We're just trying to keep the others from committing that. Exhaling, I pull myself back onto the branch and watch Matthew climb into the sky.