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Post by jvanmason on May 2, 2012 17:26:26 GMT -5
If you'd like to discuss the art of writing or try your hand at writing scenes yourself, you can use this thread. You can also email or PM me. Additionally, there will be a wiki site for stories soon. Here are the rules. (a) If you post here or use the wiki site remember that public posts should be suitable for all audiences. If you are in doubt or have questions, send your stories by email. My current email address is below. This address may change in the future: jvanmason@yahoo.com (b) I will edit stories or outlines without mercy This may mean complete rewrites. (c) Your text will be placed under a license known as Creative Commons. This means that you will receive credit but that you are essentially donating your stories to Niklas. (d) If your stories don't fit into the Niklas world we may work on them anyway and run them on a general fiction site.
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Post by jvanmason on May 2, 2012 17:34:09 GMT -5
Here's an example of a Niklas story fragment. It's not a complete story; think of it as part of a puzzle that I'm assembling over time. The text is by Patrick in this case with a rewrite by me. This fragment may help to illustrate character development, the use of subtle humor, and foreshadowing. Regarding the last point, the boy that Niklas dreams here of will play a key role later in the story.
* * *
Chapter title: It is only in sorrow that bad weather masters us.
The storm started up again as the Edlunds were finishing dinner. Niklas's parents seemed to be enjoying the candlelit meal; apparently it was romantic. But Niklas thought it was boring.
They'd even told him to stop holding a piece of bread over a candle flame... It was a science experiment! He was studying the process of carbonization!
He wanted to watch Captain Proton on TV or listen to Mystik Spiral or Dr. Teeth. Friday, the one day he was allowed to stay up late...
BOOM!
The thunder died away. Lightning had struck somewhere nearby again. The gates of the sky opened; he could hear the rain hitting the roof.
Niklas looked out the dining room window and watched what he could see of the storm. There was more lightning, though not near the house again. Lightning rods were good, he decided.
After dinner, he went to his room but decided to go back downstairs. He wasn't afraid of the dark, but there was nobody upstairs with him. Even Tina was gone.
The thunder and lightning, the incessant beating of the rain, combined with occasional creaking sounds from the walls and the darkness, barely held back by a flickering candle... It was different when you were alone.
Niklas didn't run to the stairs. He just trotted a little.
At the middle of the stairs he stopped. His parents were sitting together on the living room couch, talking. And then they hugged each other. He hesitated and resolved to return to his room and stay there.
It was a little hot and his electric fan was useless. But he didn't open the window.
"A bat might get in. You never know; it's common sense." he thought.
Niklas got undressed and tossed his clothes in the general direction of the closet. He got into the bed and tried his old trick; reading under the blankets with a flashlight.
Too warm. This worked O.K. in the winter, but the summer was different. He threw off the blankets and sat up. "Too bad," he thought. Blankets were useful. Besides keeping you warm, if you were under a blanket when a ghost appeared in your room, it couldn't get you.
There was a slight sound across the room, where the closet was. Niklas froze for a moment. That wasn't a creak; something over there had moved. He pointed the flashlight towards the closet.
Everything was just like it was supposed to be. The closet was quietly being a closet. The desk was next to the closet, where it was supposed to be. The shelves above the desk still displayed his books and a few toys (though he didn't call them "toys" any longer).
Niklas got up and slid the closet door closed. He lay down again. After a while, he tried to go to sleep. A few minutes later, he got up and locked the door of his room, then went back to bed. Eventually, he started to drift off.
rattle
Something was trying to open the door. Niklas froze again.
"Niklas? Are you okay?" his father asked through the door.
"Yes, Dad. I'm okay..." he said.
"Goodnight, son."
"Goodnight, Dad."
Niklas caught his breath, got up, and made a visit to the bathroom, where he attended to urgent business. Then, hearing both his parents in their room upstairs, with him, he went back to his room and opened his window. A cool breeze filled the room. Niklas covered himself with one sheet and finally fell asleep.
He dreamed about Captain Proton and Keith in a storm. The storm turned into a sailboat race. Then there was a boy who was dressed strangely.
* * *
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Post by jvanmason on May 2, 2012 17:39:18 GMT -5
Here's part of the opening of a March Universe story that I'm working on. This piece may help to illustrate character definition and the art of hooking the reader. By the end of the piece the reader is hopefully engaged by the Dorrians and interested in exactly what's going to happen with Morik.
As a related note, the Dorrians have been fleshed out here a bit from March's original concept. He viewed them as excessively rigid and formal; that remains true but the focus here will be on the conflict between their definition of what art is and Morik's views on the same subject. From the Dorrian perspective, Morik is a true Outlaw Artist.
* * *
Chapter title: Every reunion is a taste of the Resurrection.
"No, the ship isn't Botaran." said Jahv. "It's Dorrian!"
"Morik's people?!" Davy exclaimed.
Jahv nodded. "It's a cloaked medium-level cruiser. Crew of about twenty, I think. It's coming in on a vector that will put it right above us. We're about to have company!"
* * *
Jahv and Keith watched from a safe distance as two figures materialized abruptly at the east edge of the woods.
There had been no way to determine where the landing party would arrive. The two boys had simply been lucky enough, or possibly unlucky enough, to have chosen the right spot. The others had headed over to the west side to set up a lookout post over there.
The two aliens were adults. They seemed to be the same species as Morik and both were male. However, aside from these basic facts, they could not have been less like the alien boy.
For one thing, the Dorrians seemed stiff and reserved. That certainly wasn't Morik.
Additionally, their hair was long, like Morik's was most of the time, but it was combed neatly and tied in the back with complicated braids.
The two men were dressed in long tunics; one was a deep burgundy and the other was indigo. Both tunics bore three colors of gleaming swirled patterning, as though thick threads of green, gold, and red had been sewn into the tunics.
The burgundy tunic was more ornate than the indigo one and this seemed to be significant; the man wearing the burgundy tunic walked slightly ahead of his companion.
Both wore dark purple trousers and boots that appeared to be chrome-gold. The man in the burgundy tunic wore a chain around his neck with an ornate symbol in some type of alien script. The one in the indigo outfit didn't have a chain.
"I wouldn't have expected to find them in a place of this type," the indigo said.
"I agree. Additionally, this entire world is classified as a special case," the other replied. "There are no formal relations. It is not clear how a Dorrian made it here at all. And yet that is what the evidence suggests."
The indigo pulled out a small device. Even from a distance, it was clear that the device was as much a work of art as it was a tool. It seemed to have a wood case that was decorated with carvings.
"There are life-signs in the area. Very close. Mixed genetic codes. And the anomalous energy signatures aren't far away."
Jahv walked out of the woods, towards the aliens, and Keith followed.
The aliens glanced towards the two boys. They didn't seem surprised.
"May we help you?" Jahv said.
"A Botaran," the burgundy said. "This is a partial explanation."
"Odd-looking even for a Botaran," said the indigo. "Clearly a child, but what is he wearing? For that matter, as a Botaran child, why is he wearing clothing to begin with?"
"It is most likely protective gear of some type," said the burgundy.
The indigo looked back at his device. "The other one is a local. Genetic code is a reasonable match to the ancestral species, date of divergence not established. Instances of this species may have interacted with the People in the past but I have not encountered them myself."
He seemed lost in thought for a moment.
"Perhaps the Botaran's need for protective gear is related to the locals. There may be sanitation issues or the clothing may guard against bites and scratches."
"Hey!!" Keith said.
"But why is a Botaran here..." the indigo continued.
"Irrelevant," the burgundy said. "Or, rather, it is a secondary issue. It may not be any concern of ours. Regardless, perhaps he can be useful."
The two men took a step closer to the boys and faced them. "Greetings, young ones," the burgundy said. "Is there an adult nearby who we may speak with?"
"No," said Jahv. "You can talk to me. I'm one of the representatives for off-world affairs on this planet."
Jahv seemed slightly less self-assured than usual. "Official representatives!" he added.
The two Dorrians looked at each other. Their expressions didn't change, but they seemed to be amused.
"Is it possible that he is serious?" the indigo asked.
"Botarans are known for their high intelligence. Certainly not their judgment, but they are intelligent." The burgundy didn't actually shrug, but something about him gave that impression.
"Yes," the indigo said. "A Botaran child might be unpredictable but he would at least attempt to act responsibly. Responsibly by Botaran standards, at any rate."
The two glanced at each other again. There wasn't a nod; not quite, anyway.
The burgundy turned his attention back to Jahv. "Very well, young Botaran. I am Kortamariyandros. This is my executive assistant, Ychintcharpetron."
"Gesundheit!" Keith said.
"Is that your name?" Ychintcharpetron asked.
"The local is not of immediate significance," Kortamariyandros said.
"Young Botaran, we are in this system because evidence turned up elsewhere suggesting that a Dorrian was located here. This is the planet that would most readily support Dorrian life. Additionally, scans from orbit turned up signatures of activities that are beyond the capabilities of the locals."
He paused briefly.
"We had hoped to find the Dorrian at the source of the signatures. However, you will do. Is there a Dorrian here? If not, what information are you able to provide about the matter?"
"He's here." Jahv answered. "Morik."
"That is similar to a male Dorrian name. However, that cannot possibly be all of it," Ychintcharpetron interjected.
"It's all he's ever told us," Jahv said. "If there's more, I don't think he knows about the rest."
"Very well. We would like to meet him, please." Kortamariyandros said.
"Certainly," Jahv replied. "Follow us."
He and Keith turned and started into the woods. The two Dorrians didn't move. Jahv turned back to face them. "Is there something else?" he asked.
"Is the Dorrian located in the wilderness?" Kortamariyandros asked. "We will trust your answer but this is unexpected. Additionally, will the local be accompanying us? If so, why? Is he a servant?"
"The local is Morik's friend, as I am," Jahv said. "And Morik is this way."
He and Keith started walking again and this time the Dorrians followed.
Keith had thought of a few questions. What was all of this about? Were the aliens here to take Morik away? And weren't they a bit full of themselves, even for adults? But none of the others seemed to be in a mood to talk.
* * *
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Post by jvanmason on May 2, 2012 18:00:37 GMT -5
Here's a story fragment I've posted elsewhere with a bit more added. I like the way this one is shaping up.
* * *
Chapter title: A consistent soul believes in destiny
Keith clicked through the TV channels.
"Machete", seen it. "Gladys the Groovy Mule", no. Commercial for Skittlebrau, skip it. "Murder, She Planned", no. "Werewolf Women of Venus", seen it.
A strange kid's show on one of the Super High Frequency channels. He'd never seen this show. In fact, this channel was supposed to be static. Keith paused.
It was a foreign show. He didn't understand the language. There was a dead Indian. Two boys. The Indian's son, Martin's age, and a boy with a tail, Niklas's age. They were casting some type of magic spell. A dragon appeared, a big one. He looked down. Then the dead Indian was alive.
The Indian boy was crying. He ran to his father, who was starting to stand up, and hugged him.
It was a stupid show. Dead fathers didn't come back to life. Keith turned off the TV remote and threw it towards the TV. He sat there for a minute or two and didn't think about anything.
Keith noticed that he was crying, but it didn't seem important. There was a sound behind him and he realized that his stepfather was in the room. He'd been watching. That didn't seem important either.
"Keith..." his stepfather said.
"What."
"We received your grades today. They'd improved."
"So?"
His stepfather paused. "Is there anywhere special you'd like to go for dinner tonight?" He sounded different than usual.
Keith thought for a moment. "Maybe."
* * *
Jonathon and Randy didn't have a remote control for their TV set. It was too old. Randy sprawled on the carpet while Jonathon turned the Super High Frequency dial, looking for "Captain Proton".
The SHF dial worked differently than the regular dial. TV channels didn't click from one to the other. Instead, they faded in and out.
There were a lot of stations on SHF and some of them were crowded together. Jonathon turned the dial slowly so he wouldn't miss anything.
He passed a foreign language game show. Then a cartoon; the hero was a skeleton made of gold and he was fighting a bad guy. After that, one of the shows that were really commercials; a pretend newslady was talking about "Mr. Fusion" and the audience was clapping its hands.
Then "The Fearless Ferret" and "Mighty Plumber", followed by "Monkey Island". Then static.
"Hold it," Randy said. "What's that?"
It was still just static, but a boy was standing in the middle of it. He looked forward and recited:
"From the land beyond beyond, From the world past hope and fear, I bid you, Genie, now appear."
He paused and added "Don't go out tonight, Randy Fox". Then he shrugged and walked offscreen. Only static was left.
* * *
"I wasn't going to go out anyway," Randy said.
"Captain Proton" was over and the two boys were sitting on the carpet with Celia's old Zathura game between them. Jonathon had just drawn a Shooting Star Wish card. Randy's remark didn't seem to need an answer so he ignored it.
Randy wasn't paying attention to the game but Jonathon liked it anyway. His real family didn't play games. They never really did anything.
Jonathon looked up at Randy. "You can have my wish if you want," he said.
"O.K. I wish... summer lasted longer." Randy looked thoughtful. "But not if it means there's a drought or the Earth melts. They had that on the "Twilight Region". I know... I wish wishes didn't have to be dangerous. I wish everything didn't have to be like that."
He glanced at Jonathon and smiled. "Take your turn."
* * *
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