|
|
Post by Tam on Nov 5, 2009 1:02:00 GMT -5
Ha ha. xD In all honesty, I just think you two are better at using what spare time you do have effectively -- I mean, I actually have hours of spare time every day, but I waste time listening to music, reading emails, staring off into space, and sleeping.
...And write-ins like the one I went to today come at a price, because while they're great for pushing you to do better than everyone else, there's the inconvenient chance that you'll meet someone interesting and find something to talk about for moments/minutes/hours that you could have been writing in. >.>;
On that note, I'm not going to hit my 8k goal tonight, or come anywhere close, really. I'll just have to be satisfied with 7k for now and try to squeeze some writing motivation out of myself after my lab tomorrow.
|
|
|
|
Post by Shadaras on Nov 5, 2009 1:10:24 GMT -5
This is likely true. xD ..before NaNo, I was wasting a large part of my free time doing random stuff on the internet. Now I use it all in a way that is at least semi-productive. *loves NaNo for stuff like this*
|
|
|
|
Post by Tam on Nov 5, 2009 2:15:52 GMT -5
...I should try that. xD 'Nother excerpt, just because. Censored with keyboard-babble for your viewing pleasure. Skim disappeared partway into the episode, muttering something dire about Twiggy and next week's meal plan. I felt guilty for disturbing her, but Charlie reassured me that she was just upset that Twiggy wasn't helping her with the menu. We were at the part where Proper Dave says, "Hey, who turned out the lights?" for the first time, when a commotion from outside the room made us jump.
Charlie paused the stream. "They're home," she said lightly.
I listened to the sounds. Someone was yelling -- several other voices sounded like they were arguing heatedly.
"I think it's more than that." I looked up nervously. "Let's see what's up."
Everything was much louder with the door open. Sounds of total discord emanated from the hallway. The loudest voice was completely unfamiliar -- it wasn't one of our group. Charlie and I moved closer, dreading what we were about to see.
Ink burst into the living room, nearly trampling us. We hastened to get out of his way; he was red-faced and livid.
"That's AFSDVGFA!" he swore, spittle flying from his mouth. "What the gagd do you think gives you the right to spy on me? What I do in my free time is my own fdasfdj business!"
"It's my business when it's not your free time!" yellled the second voice. Its owner stormed into the living room behind Ink. It was our PS, the stocky woman who had driven me home from the airport the day before. "You were supposed to be at the Botanical Gardens!"
Ink swore again. "I was learning fdasfdj nothing at the fdasfdj Botanical Gardens!"
"This program is about opening your mind!"
"This program is about CONTROLLING our minds!"
The PS took a breath to calm herself, with only minor success. "You've already earned yourself a CTI. If you don't watch your mouth and calm down right now, you're going to get worse than that."
"I DON'T CARE!"
"This is your last verbal!"
Ink cursed once more and stormed away down the hall. "You wanna destroy freedom of expression with your fdasfdj censorship? FINE!"
"That's it, FINAL WARNING. If I hear one more word out of you, you're out of the program!"
But she didn't hear anything more from him. A door slammed, and a rap song started blaring from his bedroom, which was fortunate because it drowned out any further obscenities he might have replied with.
Immediately Soleil and Crevette, still dressed in their outdoor coats, launched themselves upon the PS, jabbering away furiously in French and gesticulating wildly.
She looked at them coldly and spoke a few curt words that shut them up rather quickly, although they continued to glare at her with purest loathing.
Skim appeared out of nowhere, keeping a respectful distance between herself and the PS. She said something very calmly, diplomatically, and although I didn't understand the language, I saw the steadiness in her eyes. The PS merely frowned.
Turning to face me and Charlie as well, the only people left in the room, the older woman switched to English. "Unfortunately, I can't wait around until he's calmed down, but I'll be back tomorrow morning with the paperwork for his final warning."
"Tomorrow we have a Thanksgiving activity," Skim said.
"You'll have to hold off until we're finished."
Skim said nothing.
The PS sighed, rubbing her temples. "I don't like being the bad guy, but I don't like the attitude I got here tonight either. You all know that breaking any regular municipal laws during the program gets treated very seriously, destruction of property included."
"I don't think Ink sees what he does as destruction of property."
"No, I wouldn't doubt it," she said, "and that's the issue. Graffiti is vandalism. If he were caught by a member of the community, the entire program's image would be compromised. We're trying our best to make responsible citizens out of you, but there's only so much we can do. People like Ink are a problem."
"People like Ink," said Skim, "deserve the same patience and understanding that KanataQuest teaches us to show others."
The PS studied her for a moment. Then she said, "'ll be back sometime before noon tomorrow. Please pass that message on to our friend Mr. Ink."
She started for the door, and paused. "And please, tell me if anything else like this happens. Your regular PL is away, so it's up to you to look after one another."
Skim was silent again. The PS put on her boots at the end of the hall, and left without another backward glance.
I exhaled after the door had shut and the cold air had drifted past us. "Well, that was interesting."
Skim shook her head grimly. "She's delusional. She doesn't even see him as a person, she just thinks he's something that needs to be fixed."
"Well," Charlie said, "he is a bit of a loose cannon, isn't he?"
Skim frowned. "If she wants to calm him down, she's going about it the wrong way." |
|
|
|
Post by Rikku on Nov 6, 2009 22:20:40 GMT -5
The keyboard babble amuses me. =D
... Man, I wish I had interesting experiences to write a novel about.
|
|
|
|
Post by Tam on Nov 7, 2009 1:01:30 GMT -5
...Or you could just lie and infuse normal, everyday events with your own twisted interpretations of what makes a good story. >.>; If you were, you know, that kind of person. *cough* Short snippet from yesterday. Soon, the last few people had filed into the room: Charlie, most of her hair standing on end; Elément, bleary-eyed and carrying a bowl of raisin bran; and Skim, who was holding her notebook and looked like she'd been awake for hours.
"Alright, so, good morning," she started. "We've got a lot to do today, and we're already behind, so let's get started. Right away we need to get working on supper for tonight. Skelly and I've come up with a list of jobs so that we can share the work more evenly, we'll get to that in a sec. But for now, here's our schedule. The Côte Nord group is coming over at three--"
This generated several cheers from the assembled group -- most mocking, one or two genuine. Feeling like all I ever did around here was ask questions, I opened my mouth, but Charlie saved me the trouble.
"They're the other KanataGroup in the city," she said in a whisper. "We were with them for a week at orientation."
Skim began again. "--And we're going to go to the park for some kind of physical activity with them--"
Skelly looked up from her own notebook. "What is our physical activity for today, anyway?"
"Good question. Healthy Lifestyle?"
We all looked at her blankly.
"Healthy Lifestyle committee?" she tried again, waving. "'Allo, mode de vie sain?"
"Ah ben, tabarouette," said Elément with mild surprise. "C'est moi?"
"Ouais, coco, c'est toi."
"Ah ben." He used the same inflection as one would use saying, 'Well I'll be.'
"Wait," Twiggy said slowly, "am I on Healthy Lifestyles?"
"I don't know," Skim replied, "are you?"
Twiggy sucked his lip, nodding pensively. "I think I'm on Healthy Lifestyles."
"Oh yeah," said Trailer. "I am too!"
"So, what did you guys plan for us?" asked Skelly, wearily.
"We gonna do Capture the Flag," said Elément immediately, over the top of Trailer and Twiggy, who had been looking at each other guiltily and mumbling something. "We play it in the woods, it's gonna be so awesome."
Skim raised an eyebrow. "Good choice. When you tell the other group what we're doing this afternoon, please try to make it sound like you knew longer than them."
"Don't worry, they gonna like it," he assured her, succeeding rather spectacularly in missing the point. He took a spoonful of cereal and made to put the bowl carefully back on the floor, got about a centimeter away, and somehow managed to flip the whole thing onto the carpet.
"Elément!" Soleil and Crevette squealed, jerking their feet away from the rapidly spreading pool of milk.
"Don't worry, I clean it up!" he said, springing to his feet as Trailer and Twiggy hooted with laughter.
"Right, then, meeting adjourned," said Skim. "Supper's going to be at six, hopefully, which means we better get going." |
|
|
|
Post by Trilly (18426 words) on Nov 7, 2009 1:38:46 GMT -5
These drabbles are fun to read. ^^ And look at all the French!  |
|
|
|
Post by Tam on Nov 8, 2009 20:08:48 GMT -5
Look at all the time Tamia spends looking up the very best way to say "Make the potatoes" in Québecois-dialect French and how behind she is because of it. xD But thank you. And hey, it's educational for me, so it's time well wasted. ...My ten thousandth word is "one". Which isn't nearly as exciting as any of you people's ten thousandth words, but I'm sure there's a meaning to be found in there somewhere, one of these days when I'm feeling poetic. Edit: And also, excerpt. =D
I paused, and it took me a moment to remember what I had been saying when Soleil had interrupted me. When it came back to me, I asked, "So what's the Cote Nord group like?"
"They're pretty cool," Skim said. "We hung out with them a lot, since it was the first week and none of us really knew our own groups yet."
"Axle can kick himself in the back of the head," commented Charlie from behind Pride and Prejudice.
"Whoa," I said, impressed.
Skelly brought her feet up onto the couch. "I think our group is way cooler, though," she said.
"Totally," agreed Skim.
"I very don't like Fab," said Elément suddenly, looking up. "He is very..." he trailed off, searching for the right word. He gestured up and down, over his body, with his hands.
"Clingy," suggested Skeilly.
"Creepy," put in Trailer, plopping himself down on the couch next to Elément.
"It's true," said Elément. "He's very too much."
"Why's that?" I said, curious.
"The last time," mumbled Elément, "I wake up in our room and he was watching me and Twiggy sleep."
"Fab's actually really nice, if you give him a chance," said Skim, fairly. "He can be a little overwhelming, but he means well."
"He told me that he was going to take me out into the woods where no one could hear me scream," said Trailer. He looked a little haunted as he said it, his arms crossed as if to protect himself from the memory.
"Er," I said.
"Well," said Skim.
"I'm sure he didn't mean it like that," said Skelly. "He was probably just joking."
Elément and Twiggy stared at her like she had just suggested that cutting off each other's limbs would be an enjoyable weekend activity. There was a deep silence.
[...]
Suddenly, we heard the front door open and several new voices spill in from outside. Skim sprang to her feet.
"They're here!" she called, quickly weaving her way towards the hallway. The sounds of several pairs of shoes stomping onto the hall rug reached us, followed by the voices of Skim and the Côte Nord group conversing in rapid French, interspersed with snippets of English. Skim hardly seemed to take a breath when she switched back and forth between languages. I decided that one day, I would be able to do that too.
A very tall, lanky boy with glasses and a scraggly beard entered the room. "Cote Sud!" he trilled in a high-pitched voice, beaming from ear to ear. "Hi, guys...." He giggled. Twiggy and Trailer forced their faces into uncomfortable smiles; Elément just stared, dislike written all over his features. Unfortunately for him, however, the tall boy chose him to sit beside.
"Hey there, Element..." said the boy in a singsong voice, sitting very close. I knew from Elément's expression that this had to be the infamous Fab.
"Hi," said Elément.
"So... how's my favourite Francophone...?"
"Fine," said Elément. He caught the eye of Trailer and Twiggy, who were snickering, and gave them a "I'm gonna punch you in the face" kind of look.
"You're so lucky you get to live here, Element," said Fab witstfully, "the City's so beautiful...."
His hand found its way onto Elément's knee, at which point the francophone shot up like bread from a toaster.
"We go play Capture the Flag!" he declared. "It is getting late already!"
One of the Côte Nord group members looked over, curiously. She had just taken her coat off.
"I need to go to the bathroom," she said.
"Be fast," he said. As she moved through the now-crowded kitchen, he called with a trace of panic in his voice, "Plus vite!"
|
|
|
|
Post by Rikku on Nov 9, 2009 2:04:50 GMT -5
*nods in agreement* These drabbles are fun to read.
... I like Fab. =D
|
|
|
|
Post by Tam on Nov 10, 2009 2:53:46 GMT -5
... Good, he needs someone to like him. xD I just spent four full pages describing, in excruciating detail, a game of Capture the Flag that has no real bearing on the plot. Yes, I'm 13 000/50 000 words in, and only on Day 3 of a year-long story -- and yet I still find time to describe Capture the Flag. Go me. =D Edit: Another drabble, because the word amuses me so. A slightly less mental and slightly more sentimental one, though. Prepare for soppy imagery contrived at two in the morning. After the door had closed, the house felt suddenly much emptier -- and not only because eleven people had just filed out of one tiny apartment. Something had been pulled out of the atmosphere along with them, making it suddenly easier for me to breathe again. I leaned against the wall and watched the door for several moments, thinking.
I hadn't noticed Skim come up beside me.
"I think," she said, "tonight would be a great night for a fire."
We set up the campfire in its customary backyard pit, the one that the landlord let us use every Sunday for house meetings. We made it bigger than normal, because the chilled October air wasn't the only thing we needed to push away tonight.
When we were all sitting on logs around the fire, tired and dispirited, Skim looked up at us.
"We will never become that group."
And from that moment onwards, we felt the fire warming us, and felt the life coming back into our souls. We didn't really discuss many official house issues, but that was okay, because we had already tackled the most important one.
That night was the night of my first Kanatawrestling match, a phenomenon that I learned often occurred in the absence of television and the presence of wound-up teenagers confined to one house. We layered the living room floor with all the cushions and pillows we could find and took turns trying to knock down Elément, who had played football in high school and positively adored the challenge, rising up to meet it spectacularly and eventually resulting in an all-out brawl as we battled to remain on top of the rapidly-growing human pile.
When we finally went to bed, it was much too late, but no one really seemed to care. I thought I had reached a critical point in my development within the group that night. I climbed onto my bunk and pulled the sheets over myself, and there was only one thing running through my mind before I fell asleep.
I am so lucky. |
|
|
|
Post by Tam on Nov 12, 2009 1:08:47 GMT -5
Aagdsad, I'm so swamped in essayness right now, and it's all because I left it until the last minute. I'm a couple of days behind quota, and I probably won't get a chance to write more than a couple hundred words on my NaNo tomorrow -- the essay's due Friday -- and then my weekend might be out of the question too, since my friend from New Brunswick is going to be in town. ... And then I have to start worrying about another essay and a short story, both of which are going to be due in the next week or two. Yikes. Yikesyikesyikesyikesyikes While I freak out, have an extremely short drabble, which I'm only really posting because I want to give you an idea of just how bad what I wrote yesterday was. It was Toes.
I wasn't sure if it was because I had already seen a picture of her somewhere, or if it was because of the striped, pink-and-red socks on her feet, or if it was because of the fierce and very PL-ish expression on her face -- but I knew without a doubt that it was her. She had evidently recovered from the pneumonia. I was not, at that moment, particularly glad for her.
"That's the new girl, by the way," quipped Charlie nonchalantly, completely destroying the rather effective atmosphere of suspense that had been built up.
"Hello," said the PL gravely, only furthering the mood deconstruction.
"Hi," I said, doing my best to remain cool and indifferent in an attempt to save what was left of the original flavour of the scene. |
|
|
|
Post by Rikku on Nov 12, 2009 3:05:07 GMT -5
... I'm loving this metacity. xD Though the fourth wall hates you for it.
|
|
|
|
Post by Stephanie (swordlilly) on Nov 16, 2009 14:45:08 GMT -5
Tamia - were you going for a Singaporean accent in the prologue?  It's actually pretty accurate! "Nice to meetcha." I tried a feeble smile. "I'm--" To my astonishment, they all seemed to recoil. "Don't," said Ink quickly. "You can't use your name here." I stared stupidly at him. "Why not?" At this, a look of resentfulness spread over Ink's face, but before he could open his mouth, a petite and extremely pretty girl leapt in, "It's jus' de way de program works, la. Dey tell us to leave behind who we are, and concentrate on who we can become, you know...?" "Careful," said Ink, giving a humourless laugh. "They want in our heads." The girl must have seen the expression on my face, because she said reassuringly, "Doon't worry. I tink you'll find your name soon, la." I'm impressed that you have so many characters with such different backgrounds. I usually can't handle writing about more than, say, five or six main characters, let alone mixing in different accents and Quebecois French. xD |
|
|
|
Post by Tam on Nov 16, 2009 15:57:18 GMT -5
Tamia - were you going for a Singaporean accent in the prologue? It's actually pretty accurate! "Nice to meetcha." I tried a feeble smile. "I'm--" To my astonishment, they all seemed to recoil. "Don't," said Ink quickly. "You can't use your name here." I stared stupidly at him. "Why not?" At this, a look of resentfulness spread over Ink's face, but before he could open his mouth, a petite and extremely pretty girl leapt in, "It's jus' de way de program works, la. Dey tell us to leave behind who we are, and concentrate on who we can become, you know...?" "Careful," said Ink, giving a humourless laugh. "They want in our heads." The girl must have seen the expression on my face, because she said reassuringly, "Doon't worry. I tink you'll find your name soon, la." I'm impressed that you have so many characters with such different backgrounds. I usually can't handle writing about more than, say, five or six main characters, let alone mixing in different accents and Quebecois French. xD xD Unfortunately, no. Any accents in my story are going to be Québecois accents, but I've found that there are slight differences in how different people speak their second language, which leads to slightly different Québecois accents appearing in my story. xP I'm basing them off of a few specific people I know in real life, but I still might not be getting them perfectly, though. |
|
|
|
Post by Tam on Nov 16, 2009 18:30:13 GMT -5
Eh, excuse the double post. A new excerpt, just for you. I actually rather like this one. Please note: An early part of this excerpt might be considered offensive by some. I don't think I'm breaking any rules by posting it, but please understand that any disrespect or blasphemy committed by my characters does not necessarily reflect my own opinions or idea of what's funny. xP
To say that I had difficulty getting to sleep would be like saying that rain has difficulty falling upwards, and to say that I tossed and turned would be like saying that Niagara Falls splishes and splashes. To say that my dreams, once I finally fell asleep, were strange would be like saying that the ocean is, if you think about it, mildly dampish.
I was standing in the church basement at La Relance, but instead of kids, the tables were overrun with monkeys -- all screaming and leaping through the air, flinging carrot sticks like spears and smearing mashed potatoes into each other's faces. Elément was standing off to one side, looking proud of himself.
"Watch dis," he said, and a beanbag appeared out of thin air and dropped into his hand. He hurled it at the statue of Jesus in the corner, and the statue sprang to life, dodging the projectile.
The plaster Jesus glared at him, smoothing his robes and tsking in distaste.
Elément grinned happily. "He's everytime like that."
Suddenly I was in front of an oven, and there was a frying pan in my hand. Skim was telling me what to cook, and I was doing my best to keep up. There had to be a lot of vegetables, because everyone had become vegetarian.
"Don't use lettuce, though," said Skim. "It takes too much water to grow."
"I can't eat this," declared Twiggy, shoving his plate away. "I'm a meatatarian."
"In Vancouver, we raised our own cattle and had beef at every meal," said Trailer.
"But you're from Vancouver Island," I said.
"What!" yelled Trailer. "DON'T EVER SAY THAT AGAIN!"
Charlie appeared beside me in a tailcoat and a top hat. She extended her hand. "Come with me. I want to show you my planet."
"Don't leave," shouted my sister, who had spontaneously appeared at the table. "You only just got back!"
"I have to leave," I said, following Charlie. I noticed that I was wearing a leather jacket and what felt like a tattered fedora. "My only home is on the road."
You don't have a home, a voice echoed from somewhere I couldn't discern.
I took Charlie's hand, but it didn't belong to Charlie anymore. Instead, it was Toes. She still looked fierce, and I didn't really want to go with her anymore -- but I reminded myself that I didn't want to get in trouble again, especially so close to the end.
Holding onto my hand, Toes jumped into the air and suddenly we were both shooting upwards, rocketting into the sky. It was night, and it was pitch-black around us.
Or was it night?
You're so lost.
There was smoke everywhere. It was thick and black, and someone had burned the rice again, and it smelled horrible... it crawled into my nostrils... it was in my throat... Toes let go of my hand and I was hurtling through space. It was so dark. I couldn't breathe.
Two eyes lit up against the blackness. Red eyes, redder than blood, redder than the smiling maple leaf. And then came the grin, a grin brimming with multiple rows of pointed teeth, a grin that curled at the corners.
What did you think would happen when you came here? said the grin in that echoing voice, rows of teeth parting in an evil laugh. You have to put in some effort yourself, you know. And now you're stranded.
I was choking.
The voice changed. "Don't worry about them, they'll be out for a while. That's it now," the grin intensified, as if it were even possible, "no more talking."
I woke up, and bolted upright in my bunk so fast I hit my head on the low ceiling. I said a few things that I would never have considered saying if I had been in a more coherent state of mind, rubbed my head, and tumbled down the ladder. I had a terrible headache, and my mind felt cloudy.
I decided to forgo my usual morning bathroom stop and head into the kitchen instead. I needed some water.
Skim and Skelly were at the table when I entered the room.
"'Morning," I mumbled, heading to the tap.
They both looked up. Wordlessly, they stared at me as I filled my glass.
Feeling rather self-conscious, I put the glass down. "Er," I said. "What's wrong?"
"What are you doing?" asked Skelly.
"I'm, um. Getting a glass of water. I'm allowed to, aren't I?" I joked.
"You don't live here," said Skim, unsmilingly. "You've never lived here."
I woke up once more, this time to the now-familiar snores of the other girls in the room. It was still night, and everything was black. My eyes were wide, and my head throbbed against my pillow. I didn't think I would be able to get back to sleep, but somehow, I did.
|
|
|
|
Post by Rikku on Nov 16, 2009 19:59:39 GMT -5
... Yep, that's pretty strange. xD I now want to learn how to lucid dream entirely so that I can make my dream-self have a coat and fedora. And probably a pocket watch.
|
|
It's actually pretty accurate!