Tales From The Twitter and Other Things

I need to get back into writing regularly so I've decided to do Camp Nanowrimo. It's basically National Novel Writing Month but less serious or official. They have two of them, in June and August. I may be crazy and attempt both of them, not sure as of yet. I think I'm going to start the sequel to my fantasy novel which feels really crazy to me as I only finished it a few months ago and haven't completely edited it yet but that's what nanowrimo does. It makes you write really freaking fast. So I need to Edit and Write and do other stuff. I need to Blog and Tweet and Tumble and who knows what else.

Some guy is shouting out on the street and it's highly irritating.

I have been doing some editing of my novel. It doesn't seem that difficult but it is boring. Actually for the most part I'm simply excising commas. I use commas so much it's ridiculous and I don't know why. It's a bad habit really. Commas break up a sentence and slow the reader down. Without them the prose feels faster. The reader doesn't have to pause every second and then go on. But I have an obsession with commas. In my first drafts I feel like they should be everywhere and constantly convince myself that they belong. Thankfully it seems when I edit I can overcome those feelings, say 'No fuck you commas' and get rid of them. Then when I read over the lines they sound better and I feel pleased with myself.

I recently read Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman. It is thrilling and fantastic. With seemingly no effort he takes a modern day setting and blends it with high fantasy creating awesome mythologies and stories in a seemingly-mundane world. It's not something I've really seen before and the writing is superb. A very satisfying read. I'd recommend both of his that I've read, this one and American Gods. Great books.

I just finished The Sun Also Rises by Hemingway. Talk about a difference from Gaiman. No fantastical elements, just day-to-day life written in short punchy sentences. The writing is so simple that it's actually amazing. No excess detail or fluff, he just tells you what's happening. It's kind of crazy, really. Great read.

What else? Who knows? A girl at the bar where I bounce was dancing barefoot downstairs where glass is broken practically every hour. I told her she needed shoes and she pointed to her ridiculously high heels. I told her I didn't care, she needed shoes or she'd be thrown out. If you're going dancing for hours don't wear ridiculously uncomfortable shoes and especially don't walk fucking barefoot in a nasty downstairs night club. That's all I gotta say.

People. Sometimes I just can't stand people.

So I have a Twitter and occasionally I post teeny tiny twitter tales on it. You know how Flash Fiction is around 1000 words and Flash Flash Fiction is around a couple hundred? I guess this is Flash Flash Flash Fiction. I've thrown them up on Tumblr but I will also put them up here for those who don't have a tumblr. For those who do, here's mine. http://www.tumblr.com/blog/ingdowntherabbithole

Twitter Tales

Occasionally, I tweet tiny tales on my twitter. Thought I’d compile them and throw em up here.

———————————————————————————-

The scavenger fled past the Fence. The hunter followed him Inside. Terrors roamed here, beyond reasoning. Here they would meet

———————————————————————————-

“Don’t worry,” the time traveller said, “I’m here to fix things.” The old man sighed, “just like the last one.”

———————————————————————————-

He jumped in. The body felt fat and slow, unwieldy. He felt the Owner in the back of the mind, suppressed. “Time to ride,” he said.

———————————————————————————-

The day approached like a beast over the horizon, snarling and devouring the darkness with glorified pleasure.

————————————————————————————

The alarm clock rang. He smacked it off the nightstand. He saw his hands were slick with blood. “That’s not good,” he said. 

He looked around and saw a blond woman on a red-stained rug. She didn’t move or breath. “That’s really not good,” he said.

Reality struck him like a truck. “Oh god!” He cried out. ” What have I done?” An empty whiskey bottle stared at him.

She had no pulse. A knife lay underneath the bed. “No no no no!” his voice, the only sound. The previous night lay forgotten

————————————————————————————-

“I’m a monster,” he said, baring fangs and tearing her throat out. Her last thoughts were ‘I thought he would sparkle…’

————————————————————————————-

The arrow flew, damning all hope.The boy died ‘fore he struck the ground. “We are lost, the Chosen One’s been killed.”

————————————————————————————-

The blade pierced his chest. He cried out in relief. “I die and may this time I stay dead.”

————————————————————————————-

A tweeter tweeted terrible tweets tactically telling technical tall tales to test technological techniques totally terrorizing tenuous twitsTwitter