And they're off.....

... National Novel Writing Month (www.nanowrimo.org) started today.

I feel I am too busy with other crap in life to commit the time to write a 50,000 word novel. I do have until 11:59:59 pm GMT November 30 to sign up if I change my mind.

However, saying that, I of course had a couple ideas of openings come to mind. Now I must mention I had heard a little about nanowrimo about 2 weeks ago, but didn't know it was November, only learned today it was a November thing.

Any how, here is my start to a story that is likely to go no where...

---

'It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents.' ¹

Scratch that, to cliché

‘Call me Ishmael.’²

Scratch that, not sure of the name.

‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.’³

Scratch that, don’t think it’s all that true.

‘It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.’⁴

Scratch that, people might wonder at clocks striking thirteen.

‘It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity.’⁵

Scratch that, too wordy.

‘Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.’⁶

Scratch that, don’t need something so grandeur as an intro.

‘A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... ‘⁷

Scratch that, as grandeur as the last, and more cliché

‘A man walks into a bar...’

Scratch that, this isn’t a joke.

‘If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.’⁸

Scratch that, do I really want to go into that much detail?

‘Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.’ ⁹

Scratch that, will the pages actually show that?

‘Somewhere in la Mancha, in a place whose name I do not care to remember, a gentleman lived not long ago, one of those who has a lance and ancient shield on a shelf and keeps a skinny nag and a greyhound for racing.’ ¹⁰

Scratch that, I don’t know any such man.

‘Mother died today.’ ¹¹

Scratch that, too sad.

‘The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.’ ¹²

Scratch that, not quite right.

‘I am a sick man . . . I am a spiteful man.’¹³

Scratch that, would the character be like that?

‘Where now? Who now? When now?’¹⁴

Scratch that, too many questions.

‘The moment one learns English, complications set in.’¹⁵

Scratch that, true, but not a good start for this story.

‘I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases, each time it was a different story.’¹⁶

Scratch that, don’t think it could be put together in the time left.

‘He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish.’¹⁷

Scratch that, don’t really know much about fishing.

‘It was the day my grandmother exploded.’¹⁸

Scratch that, shocking, but not quite.

‘It was a pleasure to burn.’¹⁹

Scratch that, a little too masochistic.

‘Once upon a time...’

Scratch that, too much of a fairy tale start.

‘A story has no beginning or end; arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead.’²⁰

Scratch that, don’t know where to go from there.

‘It was love at first sight.’²¹

Scratch that, too obvious.

‘I have never begun a novel with more misgiving.’²²

Scratch that, too true.

‘In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.’²³

Scratch that, can’t remember that advice.

‘You better not never tell nobody but God.’²⁴

Scratch that, could become too religious.

‘In the late summer of that year we lived in a house in a village that looked across the river and the plain to the mountains.’²⁵

Scratch that, too peaceful.

‘The towers of Zenith aspired above the morning mist; austere towers of steel and cement and limestone, sturdy as cliffs and delicate as silver rods’²⁶

Scratch that, not quite how it should start.

‘Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space.’²⁷

Scratch that, sounds to textbook like.....

The author clicked on his count-down timer on his computer. The seconds ticking away: 2,548,453; 2,548,452; 2,548,451. He’d already wasted 43,549 seconds, just over 12 hours, and he still didn’t have an opening sentence. He was doubting his ability to get 50,000 word written in 30 days... make that 29 days, 11 hours and 42 minutes.

----------------------

Footnotes:

1 Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, Paul Clifford (1830)
2 Herman Melville, Moby-Dick (1851)
3 Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice (1813)
4 George Orwell, 1984 (1949)
5 Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (1859)
6 Douglas Adams, The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy
7 George Lucas, Star Wars (1977)
8 J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (1951)
9 Charles Dickens, David Copperfield (1850)
10 Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote (1605; trans. Edith Grossman)
11 Albert Camus, The Stranger (1942; trans. Stuart Gilbert)
12 William Gibson, Neuromancer (1984)
13 Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground (1864; trans. Michael R. Katz)
14 Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable (1953; trans. Patrick Bowles)
15 Felipe Alfau, Chromos (1990)
16 Edith Wharton, Ethan Frome (1911)
17 Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea (1952)
18 Iain M. Banks, The Crow Road (1992)
19 Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451 (1953)
20 Graham Greene, The End of the Affair (1951)
21 Joseph Heller, Catch-22 (1961)
22 W. Somerset Maugham, The Razor's Edge (1944)
23 F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925)
24 Alice Walker, The Color Purple (1982)
25 Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (1929)
26 Sinclair Lewis, Babbitt (1922)
27 Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye (1988)


Bibliography:

Most of the quotes were found here:
http://www.pantagraph.com/articles/2006/02/04/news/doc43e3e6b004381080724526.txt
and here:
http://www.pubquizhelp.34sp.com/art/book_first_lines.html

Another twist of fate

Last week I got an email informing me about PlayWorks Ink. I was excited because I'd heard about it but couldn't remember when it was. Then I read it and was disappointed because it was Nov 1-4, 2007 and I had another writing class all day on Nov 3 (the same day as most of the activities at PlayWorks Ink.

Then I got a phone call... my one day class was cancelled - not enough people signed up. So I immediately signed up for PlayWorks Ink.

(Ok so this posting is not all that exciting, but last week when it happened I thought it was - I just haven't got around to keep this updated).

Twists of fate??

I recieved an email today that made me laugh, not because the email was funny, but becasue of the timing....

So, as my previous post mentions I am longing to return to the UK, well, yesterday I aslo sent an email to a recruiting agency in the UK that I delt with before. Today I got an email from a different agency about jobs in Glasgow.
Now this in itself would be an interesting coincedence, but Shanny (of Kitten's Musings - yes I have to update that link) is going to Glasgow too.

A wee bit more history / info, just for the sake of it.
Sean is in Birmingham.
The job I nearly got 18 months ago, and the reason I emailed the previous recruiter - to see if the company was still interested in me - is in Manchester, between Birmingham and Glasgow.
On my 2005 tour of Scotland I fell in love with the place.

Are the fates telling me something, or teasing me? (I'm still not sure my day job is my career!)

Longings of the heart

Over the past couple days while I sat working at my day job (writing and crafts do not pay the bills) a longing has filled my heart.
It has come and gone for the past year, this longing for the UK.
To return to the adventures I had, the people I met, and the friends I made.
There is one in particular, let's call him Sean (as the character in '5 of a Kind' was based on him), whom is the cause of the heartache.
I miss him dearly, and merely thinking about him tugs at my heart.
It has been nearly two years since I last saw him in person, so how genuine is this feeling?
Is it love, like I think it might be, or is it a simple desire to have fun like I did when we were together?
The feelings were strong in the writing and preparation of the play '5 of a Kind' and at the time I thought it was a longing for the past.
But now that it is over, what is it I feel?
I do not want to dismiss love so lightly, one such as me has rarely, if at all, experienced love.
Yet I feel I should examine other possibilities.
Could it be, as I mentioned before, as simple as a longing for the past?
For a friend who is fun to be with, and there for each other?
For freedom from the monotonous rigors of my day job?
For the adventure of travel?

I want to fly from here, I want to escape and write.
Why can't I drive myself to work to that end?
If Sean is a love, or even the memory of our time is what I cherish, why can't I use it to drive me.
To motivate me to reunite in person and find the truth in my heart.
I will endeavour to channel this longing into productive work.
Work to save money.
Work to prepare what needs to be done.
And courage to make those leaps of faith into the unknown that I fear.

Updates

So I finally got around to add the last two chapters of Joe Trebble today - it only took me 4 months.

But other things such as the play '5 of a Kind' seemed to be more important. Speaking of which I should post soon a list of working titles of other plays/stories in the works.

Stangeness

Well life has gone by fast since my last post, and most of it focused on my play - see the related blog on that.

What made me post today was a strange email I received that I would almost classify as junk/spam, if not for the bizarre nature of the email. I have copied it below. As you can see it is not obviously selling anything, and in fact is almost a piece of prose (with odd words thrown in).

Though as a friend said, it could be a cryptic message (and oh no for me for posting it if it is!).
Oh, you'll notice it is not actually addressed to me, my email was under Virginia's name.

-----

From: Shelli
To: Garth
Date: Wednesday, June 20, 2007 9:35:10 PM
Cc: Eun; Man Armstrong; Tena; Lakisha; Ok; Virginia Montgomery; Noemi Hernandez; Janeen Murphy
Subject: Finally, found it

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5 of a Kind Blog

Well I have finally got around to creating the blog with information on my script being performed at the Winnipeg and Saskatoon Fringes:

5 of a Kind

Joe Trebble's continuing adventure (Chapter 5)

As I see Joe Trebble's story beginning to over run this general writing blog, I have created a blog just for his adventures.

I'll still post about the new chapters here, with links, but now as the story progresses, there should be no need to search for old posts to catch up on the story. So I will also mention that Chapter 5 is also now up (on the new site).

Joe Trebble's Adventures
Chapter 5: Dogs

50 words or less.....

It is time for me to summarize my play (5 of a Kind) in 50 words or less for the Fringe programs. It is always a difficult thing to summarize a play or book in so short a number of words and still have it appealing, intriguing and saying enough of the story that people are not overtly surprised by it, yet not revealing the ending. So here are a few of my attempts for people to comment on. Please make comments on specific ones by referring to category and number (ie B-4, C8, ...), thanks.


A) [this one was the initial 25 words or less submitted to one Fringe to give an idea of what the play is about]

When Canadian Evan meets up with three Brit boys for Birmingham Pride, their lives are propelled through trials of love, friendship, betrayal and deception. (24)


B) [these are my top 4 favorites at the moment - in order of length(word count)]

1) Will Evan and Roger convince Sean to go to Pride?
Will Mike drive David and Evan apart?
Find out in this coming out adventure of friendship, love, betrayal, deception, and learning to just be oneself. (35)

2) What would you do if a secret side of yourself was uncovered?
Follow Sean's journey of acceptance in coming out, and Evan's discovery of David's sketchy past in this adventure of friendship, love, betrayal and deception. (36)

3) Pride! Watch the drama unfold in the events leading up to Birmingham Pride between Canadian Evan and Brit boys Sean, David, Roger and Mike in this adventure of friendship, love, betrayal, deception, coming out and just being oneself. (38)

4) When Canadian Evan visits Birmingham, his desire to stay for Pride is dubious in this coming out adventure of love, friendship, betrayal, deception and learning to just be oneself.
Will Roger convince Sean to go to Pride?
Will Mike break up David and Evan’s relationship? (45)


C) [these are the others I brainstormed - in order of length(word count)]

1) When Evan and Sean meet up with three Brit boys in Birmingham, their lives are propelled through trials of love, friendship, betrayal and deception. (24)

2) When Evan and Sean meet up in Birmingham, their lives are propelled through trials of friendship, love, betrayal and deception in this story of self discovery. (26)

3) Will Evan and Roger convince Sean to go to Pride?
Will Mike drive David and Evan apart?
Find out in this adventure of friendship, love, deception and betrayal. (28)

4) When Canadian Evan visits Birmingham, his desire to stay for Pride is dubious in this adventure of love, friendship, betrayal, and deception.
Will Roger convince Sean to go to Pride?
Will Mike break up David and Evan’s relationship? (38)

5) When Evan and Sean meet up in Birmingham, their lives are propelled through trials of friendship, love, betrayal and deception as Robert helps Sean in coming out, and Evan leans the truth about David when an old acquaintance shows up. (40)

6) While visiting the UK from Canada, Evan is invited to Birmingham by his new mate Sean. While there, Evan is faced with Sean’s coming out, guided by Roger, and the trials of love with David. Especially when David’s old acquaintance, Mike, shows up. (43)

7) When Canadian Evan visits Birmingham he is faced with an adventure of friendship, love, deception and betrayal as he encourages Sean to come out, with the help of Roger, and his love of David is put to the test when Mike shows up. (43)

8) Pride! Watch the drama unfold in the events leading up to Birmingham Pride between Canadian Evan and Brit boys Sean, David, Roger and Mike in this based on a true story of adventure, coming out, love, friendship, betrayal, deception and just plain being yourself. (44)

Observations on the C-Train

I am not sure what it is today, but I seemed to be more observant on the C-Train this morning. There were 3 individuals that caught my eye with their appearance.

One woman had a Vulcanish look to her. She looked quite dignified, and defined facial features (such as her jaw and nose). Her hair style was more what gave me the Vulcan impression as it reminded me of the Vulcan (or perhaps Romulan) hair cuts on Star Trek. She even had the salt and peppery look to her hair, despite which she still looked middle aged (not too old, not too young). It seemed a give away that she was not Vulcan by her normal shaped ears, but with cosmetic surgery now days, who knows....

I was standing in the middle of the C-Train car, and the Vulcan woman was opposite me just to the front. Opposite me a little farther back, was a man who caught my eye. Or more his eye caught my eye. He had one bright blue eye and one darker eye (dark green or perhaps medium brown). Not quite like Jason/the little girl on X-Men 2 (with the piercing blue eye and the piercing green eye). Had I been standing elsewhere I doubt this man would have caught my attention. He was dressed casually, in a black coat, black trousers, and a shirt with some design on it. He seemed to fit into the mix of the transit crowd. His eye caught my attention and I wondered briefly if one eye had a coloured contact lens. I did not observe him too much, and there is only so much one can gather from a few glances. I did however think that perhaps there was more to him than meets the eye. Does he have some special ability because of the eye? (As I write this Alastor Moody from Harry Potter comes to mine, but a much younger one, as the man I saw would be in his 20s by my guess.)

Now I don't mind if people listen to music. I mind only a little if I can hear a bit of it through their headphones (though I wonder why they play it that loud). But when I do hear it I look around to see where it comes from. Opposite the man, and just about next to me, was a the woman with the loud headphones. Now the best way I think I can describe her, is an 'out of season cougar.' She had the general look in the face of an older woman (I'd almost say she looked older than the Vulcan woman, but they are probably both about the same age). She had wild blond hair, and those dark sunglasses that look like they're made to cover normal glasses. The music I could hear (not too clearly, but loud enough), basically cemented the Cougar image to me. She did not look overweight, but she did look a little hung over perhaps (I'll atribute that to the sunglasses). Now it is a little cool out today, and it wasn't evening when I was on the C-Train, so her attire was perhaps the one thing that did not scream cougar, but close. She had a black winter jacket, blue jeans and brown (typical) winter boots.

There were of course others on the C-Train I observed, but not to the same degree.
A woman had three piercings in her lower lip - her attire as casual as the blue eye man.
The man next to her was working on a laptop.


I must also add that I don't think this is coincident that the next chapter of Joe Trebble is titled Public Transit as I wrote that about 4 days ago (just took a while to type up and post).

Joe Trebble and the Bio Tech Conspiracy - Chapter 4: Public Transit

Need to read the previous chapter (Chapter 3) or start from the beginning (Chapter 1)

Joe Trebble and the Bio Tech Conspiracy
Chapter 4: Public Transit

Christie left the room with the rest of her class. As chit chat erupted, her mobile buzzed, indicating a text message.

Christie waved goodbye to her friends as she headed to the bus, checking the message on the way.

"Joe Trebble is coming for dinner" was the message from her father.

Christie had not seen Joe for almost 4 years, what would he be like now?

The bus stopped and Christie got on, her red hair blowing slightly in the wind. She smiled to the surly looking bus driver as she showed her pass. He looked back and nodded.

"Where was Gus?' She thought of the bus driver who usually drove this route.

She walked down the length of the bus, looking at the people around. Some she recognized, some she didn't.

'Would Joe be all formal like that business man reading the National Post? He was doing that business degree,' she thought. 'Or would he be more like that Goth kid at the back, all in black and in his own style? Joe had implied to me that he had got involved in a unique group of people.' Christie sat in her normal seat, smiling at the kids across the passage. 'Or is he married now with kids of his own?'

"Hey Christie. You left suddenly from class," Trevor, a classmate, said taking the seat next to her.

"Got company tonight," Christie replied.

"Oh, well, I, um . . . say what did you think of today's lecture?"

Christie looked closely at Trevor, he hardly ever took this bus. Suddenly she realized something about him. He had always seemed so shy around her, and awkward when he talked about anything other than school. He wasn't that bad looking, short brown hair, and green eyes, good body, but perhaps needed to work out.

"It was an interesting paper presented, not too sure if the techniques were properly documented. So where are you going Trevor?"

"Off, um, shopping. . . . maybe a movie."

"You know, I've heard there are a couple really good movies out, perhaps we could catch one next week," Christie said seeing Trevor blush. He was obviously trying to ask her out.

"Yeah, um, sounds good."

"Here's my stop. Give me a call tomorrow." Christie got off the bus.

Chapter 5 coming soon.

Joe Trebble and the Bio Tech Conspiracy - Chapter 3: Love

Authors note: Click to read Chapter 1 or to read the previous chapter

Joe Trebble and the Bio Tech Conspiracy
Chapter 3: Love

Joe drove off from the BioTech building. His meeting went well with Henry, at least he hoped so. The dinner tonight might change all that.

Tonight. What would he tell Christie. He knew she cared for him, her sporadic letters were clear as day to him, what with the training he had. But he didn't love her as she loved him. There was another in his life. Yet once she heard he was in town, wand for no apparent reason, since the meeting with Henry was confidential, she might think he came for her.

Lost in thought, Joe drove the pink Cadillac back into town. Marcel was at the hotel when he returned.

"Thanks for the car," Joe said tossing the keys to Marcel.

"How was it, doesn't look like it went well."

"It went quite well, just a turn of events. How can I let Christie down?"

"What do you mean?"

Joe led Marcel into his hotel room as they talked. Taking off his white shirt.

"Henry invited me to their place for dinner, he'll give me his decision then. But Christie will be there."

Joe opened the closet to find something more appropriate to wear.

"If she knows you as well as you say, she should be fine with it. I'm surprised you've not told her."

"I never felt comfortable telling her in a letter. Besides, her last letter to me was about six months ago, and I was hoping she'd find someone else."

Chapter 4

Short Story Sweatshop - tomorrow

Tomorrow is going to be interesting. It is the day of writing where I hope to continue the story of Joe Trebble.

Part of what is going to make it interesting is that my computer crashed about two weeks ago. Luckily my files could be rescued prior to it going back to the store for warrantee work (it is only 5 months old).

The first two chapters were written right on the computer, so posting them only required finding them. This time, any Joe Trebble story will have to be typed up first.

Another thing is that there has been a lot going through my mind, so who knows what interesting things will come to the paper. Only time will tell.

Lunchbox Theatre - Calgary

On 26 March I received an email that surprised me. It was an invitation to the launch of the next season of Lunchbox Theatre.

It surprised me as I've no idea how I got on their mailing list.

'Fate' I told myself as I replied saying I would attend. In the back of my mind I thought of who might have put me on the list.

The launch was on Wednesday at 3pm, and it was fun. I was a little nervous since I still feel new to that world (although I have been involved in various aspects of drama and theatre off and on for several years). However, I met a few interesting people prior to the 2007-2008 schedule of plays.

This year it is going to be a set of 7 world premiers, all of which look fascinating. And I so happened to meet one of the playwrights.

Lunchbox Theatre
http://www.lunchboxtheatre.com/

Drifting

I am feeling somewhat adrift on the river of life
Content to let the currents of fate guide me
It is perhaps my way of dealing
With the recent unexpected changes
Currently in my life
I am still endeavouring to focus
On present work and opportunities
Enjoying each day
Yet limiting my future planning
Even though I must consider
The possibilities
When dealing with these sudden events
I will wait until
A moment of potential enlightenment
That I know is coming
(Coincidently)
Near Easter

Hello March!

Life is a journey,
one adventure after another
some are joyous
like birth, weddings, graduation
or even just a great night on the town
and some are depressing
like death, loss, accidents
I had such a day yesterday
not with death, thank god,
but a couple mishaps.

It is three weeks since my grandmother passed away.
I was visiting my parents this weekend to help out, even though most of the work was done.
But it was a good thing I was there, for my Mother slipped and fell in the shower.
She went to the hospital, got sewn up (3 stitches in the back of the head), and came home.
Two more times she fell, but luckily my Father and I were there to help.
She was then admitted into the hospital.
At 8:30 pm I decided to drive back to Calgary from Edmonton.
Around 11:30pm, less than 60 km from Calgary, my car spasmed.
This has not been my week, I thought while waiting for a toe.
For last week my computer crashed, and I came down with a heavy cough.
When March comes in like a lion it goes out like a lamb.
Does that refer to life as well as weather?

Joe Trebble and the Bio Tech Conspiracy - Chapter 2: Persisting Against All Odds

Authors note: Click to read Chapter 1

Joe Trebble and the Bio Tech Conspiracy
Chapter 2: Persisting Against All Odds

Joe walked into Henry's office, there was a reason he was here, and he knew, despite his boyish good looks, many here would hate him for it, but it had to be done.

"Joe my boy, what brings you to our neck of the woods?" Henry said as Joe entered his office.

"Business. But we'll get to that later. How is Rachael and Christie?" Joe asked. Henry and Joe's father, Mark, had worked together for many years. Henry was almost like an uncle to him, Christie almost a sister. However that all changed about 7 years ago when Mark had passed away, a freak accident in the lab. That was back when the BioTech labs were in the city core. Since then Joe had seen less and less of Christie, Henry and Rachael, his adopted aunt. Especially when he had gone to Wales to do a business degree. Wales to do a business degree? Everyone had asked. But Joe wanted to get back in touch with his father's roots.

"Racheal is doing well, and Christie, well she is working on her masters in bio-physics. You should come by another time and say hello, she would be delighted to see you again. She's off at classes right now, but does some of her work here. Now what can I do for you? A drink to start?" Henry said in reply to Joe's questions.

Joe was about to say no to the drink, but based on why he was here Henry might need that drink. "Yeah sure." Joe took the stout glass, half filled with 21 yr old Scotch, a good year Joe thought smiling to himself that it was as old as he was - even though it was in Henry's possession for 2 years. Joe sat down on the visitor chair, Henry leaned against his desk. Joe took a scan of the room as he sipped his drink. The room was as he had remembered, three walls were covered in whiteboards, scribbles of molecular biology formulas and chemical compositions all over then, and covered then with papers of important research notes. Henry's desk was a pile of papers, a cracked decanting flask used as a pencil holder.

"I thought you were still in Wales," Henry said after sipping his scotch.

"I am, or was. Look, Uncle, I don't mean to be brash here, but I have learned of some things that I think you should know. Through the grapevine so to speak." Joe put down his glass. "There is this mega micro biology company in Birmingham that has been working hard towards a vaccine like what you are working on. They are cutting corners and hope to undermine everyone else that is doing legitimate work. Not only that they have been up to some corporate espionage, and apparently a couple of the smaller micro-biology companies in Switzerland and Italy have already been attacked," Joe leaned forward, noticing the worried look on his uncle's face. "I know a few of the right people in the right places to get a little of this knowledge, and I also know some people that can help. But seeing as this company is one of the bigger ones in Canada, you are bound to be targeted soon. I can help, but you have to trust me."

Henry gingerly put down his scotch, and turned. "I had heard about Switzerland, I thought it was an accident. What happened in Italy?"

"No accident. Italy, they lost 3 years of computer data, they have been good at covering it up, but it hit them hard."

Henry sat heavily in his chair. "What can you do for me?"

"You are not going to like this, I already know. Father would not approve either, but sometimes you have to fight fire with fire." Joe paused for a moment, it was hard to say, and do, what he needed to with a man he loved and trusted like his father. "They are recruiting people to spy on the other companies, my name is known to them connected to BioTech, they are not sure how deep my loyalties lie, nor have they asked me, but if I pull the right strings, I could be their spy here. The thing is I have to work for them. But I can play the double agent, inform you, and only you, what I know. This means I get no special treatment when I work here, so I can limit what I pass on to them, but I have to give them something or.... well I heard that Switzerland was because their mole was not performing." Joe was shaking inside, this was going to an uphill battle all the way to save the company his father helped found.

Joe could see the grim expression on Henry's face, it made him look 10 years older. "Would it be any good? You acting as a double agent, trying to save us in the face of unethical overzealous corporations?"

Joe was about to tell Henry the full truth, but stopped himself short. There was so much more to it than that, and despite all the odds he had to pursue it carefully. "Trust me it is."

"Let me think about it. Come by the house later tonight, even if I have not decided, it would be good for you to see the family."

Next chapter

Joe Trebble and the Bio Tech Conspiracy - Chapter 1: A hot pink car

Author's note: Below is the Freefall story I mentioned in my last post

Joe Trebble and the Bio Tech Conspiracy
Chapter 1: A hot pink car

A hot pink Cadillac pulled up in front of the BioTech building. Everyone with a window on that side of the building had seen the car approach and work had stopped. The BioTech building was at the end of a long road on the outskirts of the city, and there was no doubt that the car was either going to stop or turn around once it got to the building. People were curious, who would be driving the car, and why would they come here? Most of the other cars in the car park were the standard colours; white, black, blue, occasional red and yellow. Hot pink, that stood out. The employees all crowded at the windows to watch when the car stopped.

Really only those on the lower 2 floors of the 8 storey building could clearly see who stepped out; a man, in his early to mid twenties. He wore white jeans and a white cowboy hat and had a bare chest. He paused for a second after getting out of the car, and took off his cowboy hat, his blond hair fell to just below the nape of his neck. He reached into the car and pulled out a shirt, pulling it over his well defined muscular torso before placing the cowboy hat back on his head. He then proceeded towards the main entrance.

Inside a great commotion happened as everyone tried to rush to the lobby and see who this stranger was.

The man entered and walked confidently up to the reception. His white attire sticking out amongst the blue-green-grey tones of the building. "Good day ma'm, I'm here to see Dr. Birghtonston. My name's Joe. Joe Trebble. He should be expecting me."

Sarah, the receptionist had not taken her eyes of the man since he had left the car. His well toned body was only accented by his glowing youthful face, and his Welsh accent nearly made her melt. "Umm, oh, yes. Hold on a moment."

"Sure thing. I'll just take a seat." Joe turned and went to sit down.

Sarah watched his hot ass as he walked away towards the black leather chairs in the lobby. Once Joe was sitting the receptionist called Dr. Henry Brightonston. "Dr. there is a Mr Trebble here to see you."

"Who?" came Henry's voice on the other end.

"Joe Trebble" Sarah repeated.

"Ahh yes Joe. Send him in."

She hung up the phone, and stood to address Joe. "Dr. Brightonston will see you now. Third office on the left."

"Thanks Ma'm," Joe said tipping his hat and giving a slight bow before going through the security doors towards Henry's office.

The crowd of onlookers parted as Joe came through, smiling at them and tipping his hat to a few of them. Once he was passed them they all poured out into the lobby to gossip with the receptionist.

"Do you know who he is?" Marry asked.

"Joe Trebble." Sarah replied.

"Why is he here?" Jean asked.

"I Don't know” Sarah answered.

Author's note: Watch for more posts with Joe Trebble and the Bio Tech Conspiracy to read the continuing story. (Chapter 2 here)

Free Falling

"Freefall is a method some writers discover spontaneously, but many have to (re?)learn: the technique of writing from the larger Self, beyond reach of the ego and its censors. As the name suggests, Freefall invokes the courage to fall without a parachute, into the words as they come, into the thoughts before they have fully formed in the mind, into the unplanned structures that take shape, without prompting, to contain them."
From: http://www.freefallwriting.com/

I have learned that there are various types of Freefall writing, much of it can be personal, and that can, in a way, be considered the purest form. In some of the writing classes I have taken Freefall is used as either a warm-up exercise, or for the duration of the class.

Sometimes though, especially on a Saturday morning, or after a busy day of work, the mind may not want to turn on the tap of creativity. To break the whitespace that is the page, a word, or phrase, is sometimes used.

Generally what happens is at the start of the class we write short words or phrases and toss them into a pot. Before the Freefall starts, one is randomly selected and that is a potential topic, for those that want that first word to bring the focus on the writing.

I have taken a full day course on Freefall writing, and have signed up for another in about 10 days. At the last one, a character came to me halfway through the day, at the start of one of the Freefall sessions. His story I feel is going to be told through this method. Each chapter unknown until that slip of paper is pulled from the pot to lead him down his next path.

I have a feeling I know who this character is, but, like anyone you meet for the first time, what they say and do may not be all they appear to be (but is usually not far from the mark). Through these chapters (which I will post here, but with irregularity), I will learn his true nature and if he is all I think him to be, or deceptive in his appearance and initial actions.

From a 14 yr old boy

I found this little bit of writing just the other day, it is one of my favourites. I wrote it when I was about 14, at a 3-2-1 Write! event for youngsters. It was during a session about writing description.

He opened his eyes and saw moss and pine about him. He looked around for his mother but just saw pine trees. Then it hit him, the smell of blood. He was happy for that meant food. As he was about to leave his cave under the pine, he listened for his mother's call for him to come, but it never came. He mewed to ask if she was there, but there was no reply. He decided to go out to eat for he was starving. He went looking for the meat. He thought this place was different. The tree was near a cliff he had not seen the night before. As he looked around at the rocks and trees, he distinguished the direction from which the smell of meat came. He rounded the rock in front of the lovely smell and there in front of him was a horror, the likes of which he had never seen before. His heart raced in shock and tears sprung to his eyes, for there in front of him was...

Friends

I'm still learning this site, and from my sporadic investigating, I have not seen an easy way for friends to request I have links to their websites....

So this entry is that gateway. Post a comment with your url, and I'll look at your site.

Black Phoenix

The fantasy world I am creating started from a simple thing. I joined a Yahoo! Fantasy RPG group, where I created a character. He did not get far in that group as I did not have the time to weed my way through the posts and get him involved. However, out of it he became the beginning, the creator so to speak, of the fantasy world I am now exploring.

I am taking a unique approach in writing this world. I do not present the life of the characters, nor all their adventures in linear format, but snippets of their lives while they are in possession of a Black Phoenix object.

The Black Phoenix himself is a mystery to all (even some parts are unknown to me). All that is know is that he is a traveler from afar, a master blacksmith, and can channel the magic of the world into what he creates.

To date I am following the path of 4 of his handiwork:
- A Dragon pendant
- An oath ring
- The Sword of Konrasz
- Jessamyn's Shield

It is not just these 4 objects, and the characters caring for them, but pivotal moments in the history of the land that come together in at least 6 stories and 1 poem. Eventually the stories will expand on the history and adventures of others.

I am hoping that each story stands on its own, and reading them out of order (what ever that order may be) will not spoil another story, but perhaps add to the discovery within either.

Published!

I am not that widely published (yet), but with the launch of my play at the Winnipeg Fringe in July, I think I can safely say I am a published author.

Other smaller things I have published were only in a university newspaper that had limited readership, and considered a joke (although the paper itself knew that, unlike the mainstream paper at the university that was a joke and thought it was serious).

I have entered a few contests, but as yet I've not won any. However, my fingers are crossed for a poetry contest I entered a couple months ago - winners are going to be announced in April.
http://alexandrawriters.org/ffmag.html

As I pull this site together watch for failed contest entries, short stories that were done without expectation of more, and maps to the fantasy world the bulk of my stories I hope to publish take place in. Also soon will be more on my play debuting in Winnipeg.

Coming Soon....

.... this site up and running (with more info).

Also more information on my script that will be produced at the 2007 Winnipeg and Saskatoon Fringe Festivals. Along with some of my writings.