21:44] <Leon5550> Ooh! we got an update! http://finalfantasy.wikia.com/wiki/User:GRIEVER_POWER/My_Character

[21:44] <Diablocon> Sword that shoots more swords?

[21:44] <Otherarrow> Awesome!

[21:45] <Leon5550> Naginata's pretty good, but I prefer a Guan

[21:45] <Otherarrow> We need to write all this down somewhere!

[21:45] <NA> did I mention the platinum is /fabulous/ly taken from the God of Gods Dragon fang gold-silver-diamond Platinum?

[21:45] <Otherarrow> XD

[21:45] <Leon5550> Yea, why not add this guy in the story?

[21:45] <Diablocon> I prefer a Gwetna. It's a real Japanese weapon, I totally didin't make up that word >_>

[21:46] <Otherarrow> I bet that they do not get that he is a parody.

[21:46] <Yuanchosaan> It would help if Japanese had a "we" sound :P

[21:46] <HexedUnderIce> or, a Yoshitsuna? :P

[21:46] <Leon5550> Or a Mitsubishi?

[21:46] <Diablocon> That's just the romanization. It's totally cooler looking and sounding in the original Japanese >_>

[21:47] <Otherarrow> Thor blessed Naginata! It makes no sense, but neither does anything else!

[21:47] *** Diablocon [n=5600c42d@gateway/web/cgi-irc/irc.wikia.com/x-a3b6ab56475e7511] has quit ["CGI:IRC"]

[21:47] <Leon5550> Ok, so who'll add this? I already have mine, so someone gotta do it

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[21:47] <Yuanchosaan> <prophecy voice> And he shall descend from the fiery heavens in a chariot of fire, drawn by the sun! Or maybe a Ferrari, because he's so awesome that he can ignore anachronisms.

[21:47] <Leon5550> Remember, we cant tell it's a joke, be serious

[21:48] <Otherarrow> Nice! Future car from the sun!

[21:48] <Diablocon> A Ferrari driving a porchse?

[21:48] <HexedUnderIce> Is the chariot of holy fire?

[21:49] <NA> the ultimate weapon will have to be Masamune-Ultima-FirstTsurugi-Fenrir-Excalibur III (!)-Lightbringer-Masamune Mk. III-GilgaGenji-Fenrir-ThePowerOfHeartandFriendship-Keyblade-SwordOfCrystal-OfCosmos-OfUltraman Weapon.

[21:49] <Otherarrow> Make the fuel something....Awesome! Like explodium!

[21:49] <Leon5550> Or petrol!

[21:49] <Otherarrow> Nice weapon Nelo.

[21:49] <Henryacores> Masaexy Crystal Weapon

[21:49] <Diablocon> It doesn't need fuel, it runs on his coolness

[21:49] <Yuanchosaan> <prophecy voice> Yes! And all women who but glimpse his gorgeous, beautiful, magnificent, fabulous, pretty, handsome, sculpted, perfect face fall instantly in love with him, hero of heroes.

[21:49] <Otherarrow> XD Oh yeah!

[21:50] <Henryacores> Not to mention his muscles

[21:50] <Diablocon> If they don't, that's lesbians? >_>

[21:50] <Otherarrow> And his hair!

[21:50] <NA> Leeroy's car is too sexy for his car. And the need of fuel.

[21:50] <Leon5550> EVEN lesbians

[21:50] <Diablocon> *they're, why'd I put that's?

[21:50] <HexedUnderIce> <prophecy voice> And he shall gather you together, and then break you

[21:50] <Otherarrow> No. Even lesbians. He is THAT hot!

[21:50] <Leon5550> Hurah!

[21:50] <Diablocon> Shouldn't he have an animal companion?

[21:50] <Otherarrow> The Space rock I made?

[21:51] <HexedUnderIce> Yeah. It's something epicly awesome.

[21:51] <Leon5550> Yea, a wolf, a tiger

[21:51] <NA> yes, Bahamut Nebula of the Milky way...screw that. Bahamut of the Sun...no..yes! Bahamut of the whole Universe!

[21:51] <Otherarrow> No! A Space rock that can take the form of a wolf, a tiger, a dragon, a cyclops.

[21:51] <Diablocon> Liger, which is a mix of a lion and tiger! (They're real animals BTW)

[21:52] <Otherarrow> Nice!

[21:52] <HexedUnderIce> A flying shark!

[21:52] <Yuanchosaan> I'm so saving this to Word.

[21:52] <Yuanchosaan> Why does he need only one?

[21:52] <Diablocon> A flying LAND shark!

[21:52] <Otherarrow> Bahamut of the Multiverse!

[21:52] <HexedUnderIce> No, a tentacle-backed land dragon-shark

[21:52] <Yuanchosaan> For he is so FABULOUS that a single animal companion is just not FABULOUS enough.

[21:52] <Otherarrow> Oh yeah!

[21:53] <Diablocon> An entire zoo is his animal companion

[21:54] <HexedUnderIce> NA, they aren't virgins once they come within 5 miles of him

[21:54] <Leon5550> Only twelve?

[21:54] <Otherarrow> XD

[21:54] <Otherarrow> Typo. 12000. And they ain't virgins anymore.

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[21:55] <NA> did we mention that he is also pure as the driven snow? Because he's a good role model for kids!

[21:55] <Diablocon> He unvirgins them but with a singly stare

[21:55] <Otherarrow> Yes!

[21:55] <Diablocon> Wow, bad timing.

[21:55] <HexedUnderIce> The term is deflowering

[21:55] <Otherarrow> Deflowering stare O_O

[21:56] <Diablocon> "Because he's a good role model for kids!" "He then deflowers them with his stare" Such bad timing XD

[21:56] * HexedUnderIce attempts to use a deflowering stare on Yuan but fails *

[21:56] * Otherarrow stabs Hexed

[21:56] <Otherarrow> BAD! NO TREAT!

[21:56] <TSD> ]

[21:56] <Yuanchosaan> Sorry Hexed, but you just ain't Leeroy Jenkins.

[21:56] <Otherarrow> Only HE can do it.

[21:56] <Otherarrow> Hi TSD.

[21:57] <NA> too be fair, no hero is a hero without villains. Leeroy is opposed by a few characters. Why? because they're jealous of him. Yes, he is THAT good.

[21:57] <Otherarrow> Such as? I bet Leeroy could use it!

[21:57] <TSD> Such as that combination of a staff and a spear.

[21:57] <Otherarrow> That sounds pretty cool.

[21:57] <TSD> When I imagine it, not so much.

[21:58] <Henryacores> brb, class is over

[21:58] <Otherarrow> No. Leeroy is betrayed by the Gary Stu Army he blindly leads. And kills them all while EATING CHICKEN!

[21:58] <TSD> At one end is the blade. At the other, the decoration of the staff.

[21:58] <Diablocon> HIs enemy is that guy in the mirror who seems to be just as cool as him >:(

[21:58] <HexedUnderIce> No, he is betrayed, and then he turns all the males into females with a glare.

[21:58] <Yuanchosaan> Bye Henry

[21:58] <Otherarrow> Bye Henry.

[21:59] <TSD> I also thought of using minature versions of that combination. Slashing an enemy, then electrifying the wounds..............

[21:59] <Otherarrow> Yes! Only Leeroy can opposs Leetoy!

[21:59] <Otherarrow> *Leeroy

[21:59] <Otherarrow> That does sound cool though TSD>

[21:59] <NA> no wai! Leeroy fuses with clone!Lerroy to become even MORE fabulous!

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[22:00] <Otherarrow> O_O EPIC!

[22:00] <HexedUnderIce> Then the universe tears due to the fabulousitity

[22:01] <Yuanchosaan> He's name is Edward. Therefore, it should be *%FABULOUS*

[22:01] <Yuanchosaan> Minus the percentage >_>

[22:01] <Yuanchosaan> *His

[22:01] <Otherarrow> YES.

[22:01] <TSD> I'm a very bad judge of what is funny.

[22:01] <NA> rainbow naming FTW!

[22:01] <Otherarrow> No. With the percentage. He is that FABULOUS!

[22:02] <Otherarrow> How so TSD?

[22:02] <NA> as in, FABULOUS 200%!

[22:03] <Otherarrow> YES!

[22:04] <Yuanchosaan> So tempted...to create...this character...

[22:04] <HexedUnderIce> Do it.

[22:05] <Otherarrow> Do it. Just to spite them. just to make the story standable through how funnyly overpowered he is.

[22:05] <Otherarrow> At least write it down, and keep it for them to see.

[22:06] <NA> did I forget to mention that Leeroy's voice can seduce/intoxicate anyone who hears it?

[22:06] <NA> *anything

[22:06] <Yuanchosaan> I dont' know. If I do this, it might mean Diablo can't do his snarking.

[22:07] <HexedUnderIce> Even men NA?

[22:07] <NA> no, even non-living things.

[22:08] <HexedUnderIce> LOL.

[22:08] <Otherarrow> Maybe he can. They don't know that he was involved with this thing...Hmm...Parody for a bit, or snark forever....Tough one.

[22:08] <HexedUnderIce> Goodnight guise.

The birth of Leeroy, in all its <s>terrible</s> fabulous glory.
----

[21:28] <Yuanchosaan> And then I'll make a 16 year old Hume, who wields a sword, and has mysterious heritage.

[21:28] <Yuanchosaan> His name?

[21:28] <Otherarrow> Stu?

[21:28] <Yuanchosaan> LEEROY JENKINS.

[21:28] <Henryacores> Cloud

[21:28] <Otherarrow> XD

[21:28] <Henryacores> XD

[21:28] <HexedUnderIce> WINCOPTER.

[21:28] <Otherarrow> And he will run blindly into battle eationg chicken?

[21:28] <Otherarrow> *eating

[21:28] <Leon5550> LOLOLOLOLOLOL

[21:29] <Yuanchosaan> He will use the magic power of his prophecy to make everyone fall under his control.

[21:29] <Yuanchosaan> And throws them all recklessly into battle, killing everyone. Oops.

[21:29] <Henryacores> Well, my guy is t3h most powerful hero

[21:29] <Otherarrow> BEst ending....EVER!

[21:29] <Henryacores> He touches enemies and they go poof

[21:30] * HexedUnderIce might as just well make an expy of some WoT character. ;P

[21:30] <Otherarrow> Except when the plot (other writers) demands it.

[21:31] <NA> Just 16 years old and already have a spouse!?

[21:31] <Otherarrow> I still want to make that rock. But it will be FROM SPACE, and be able to make earthquakes and volcanos and stuff. And gwet ALL the ladies!

[21:31] <Otherarrow> O_o

[21:31] <Otherarrow> *get

[21:31] <NA> ah crap. I forgot to do the time stamp again.

[21:31] <HexedUnderIce> Rockophillia?

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[21:32] <Otherarrow> I guess so. :P

[21:32] <Otherarrow> Hi Diablo.

[21:32] <Diablocon> Hello

[21:32] <Diablocon> I heard I can come here for some snark

[21:32] <Henryacores> But the final boss is immune to this, so he has to do something really cliché which is know that he's the son of someone the final boss killed who makes him burst in rage and cut him in half

[21:32] <HexedUnderIce> WE SHALLS DO ITS FOR TEH WINS

[21:32] <Henryacores> Hey diablo

[21:32] <Otherarrow> You canme to the right place Diablo!

[21:32] <Otherarrow> *came

[21:32] <Yuanchosaan> I vote for having my 16 year old "Leeroy Jenkins" character to be the main character in this story.

[21:32] <Henryacores> I miss our discussions on boobs

[21:33] <Otherarrow> DO IT! It will make it go quicker.

[21:33] <Diablocon> You're adding a character Yuan?

[21:33] <Otherarrow> And make my "SPACE-god rock" the sidekick!

[21:33] <Yuanchosaan> [21:26] <Yuanchosaan> I will create a Moogle character, who is 17 years old. He will be idealistic, and want to save the world. Then he gets thrown into battle, barely escapes with his life because he can't fight, but tries to persevere anyway.

[21:33] <Yuanchosaan>  [21:26] <Yuanchosaan> He then makes a promise to a princess to always be there for here and save her.

[21:33] <Yuanchosaan> [21:27] <Yuanchosaan> And is promptly killed in the next scene, as he realises he's in way over his head. The end.

[21:33] <NA> sorry if I asked his earlier, but did you remember to mention that Leeroy is also irresistable to all women, female villains, men, and..monsters?

[21:33] <Henryacores> He has to use swords

[21:34] <Yuanchosaan> The other is:

[21:34] <Yuanchosaan> [21:28] <Yuanchosaan> And then I'll make a 16 year old Hume, who wields a sword, and has mysterious heritage.

[21:34] <Yuanchosaan> [21:28] <Yuanchosaan> His name?

[21:34] <Yuanchosaan>  [21:28] <Yuanchosaan> LEEROY JENKINS.

[21:34] <Otherarrow> That is important. He needs those.

[21:34] <Yuanchosaan> Yes. He's a Marty Stu Leeroy Jenkins.

[21:34] <Henryacores> XD

[21:35] <Otherarrow> He will lead them blindly to their deaths all while eating chicken!

[21:35] <Leon5550> Leeroy Jenkins....

[21:35] <Otherarrow> And still live. BEcause he is the main character.

[21:35] <Diablocon> That is brilliant

[21:36] <Henryacores> Oh! He must be able to go on a super-power burst\trance mode

[21:36] <Otherarrow> OK....Why are these parody characters more interesting that the real ones?

[21:36] <NA> does he <s>sparkles</s> have the innate ability of convert the focus (sun)light, lamp light, moonlight to him?

[21:36] <Henryacores> Because they suck?

[21:36] <Otherarrow> Lamp light FTW!

[21:36] <Diablocon> Twilight reference? Why not

[21:36] <Otherarrow> I guess.

[21:37] <Yuanchosaan> Sure. Marty Stu Leeroy Edward Jenkins.

[21:37] <HexedUnderIce> :LOL

[21:37] <Leon5550> Edward's a good name, change it to Irving

[21:38] <Otherarrow> Make it more Stuy. "Leeroy Edward Kain Highwind Jenkins Jr."

[21:38] <Leon5550> Mary Stu Leeroy Irving Jenkins

[21:38] <Henryacores> No, leave Edward

[21:38] <HexedUnderIce> No, needs moar.

[21:38] <Otherarrow> Nothing against Kain, it's just a Gary Stuish name.

[21:38] <Yuanchosaan> And so, a prophecy was born. In a time of trouble, a time of strife, a hero shall arise from the ashes! He shall save the world, and be greater than any hero before. And his name will be...a name worth of his greatness...the great "Leeroy Marty Stu Edward Highwind Jenkins"!

[21:39] <Henryacores> XD

[21:39] <Otherarrow> Awesomeness! XD

[21:39] <Henryacores> x'D

[21:39] <Yuanchosaan> Correction. He shall save the world AND eat chicken.

[21:39] <Henryacores> I can't laugh this much in classrooms :X

[21:39] <NA> Marty Leeroy "I'm simply /fabulous/" Jenkins Cloud Squall Sephiroth Strife Strife Strife Leonhart Ominslash Renzoukoken Jenkins.

[21:39] <Otherarrow> XD

[21:39] <Diablocon> It finally happened (happened). It finally happened. It finally happened. I'm slightly mad! XD

[21:39] <HexedUnderIce> LOL

[21:39] <Otherarrow> lol

[21:40] <Henryacores> Well, duh. Big news :P

[21:40] <HexedUnderIce> Needs moar balefire.

[21:40] * Yuanchosaan is laughing out loud

[21:40] <Henryacores> He needs a gun

[21:40] <Otherarrow> He needs more Uber-WDU.

[21:40] <Henryacores> Maybe an old revolver, like Dirty Harry

[21:40] <Leon5550> Gun is good, he needs a sword, a BIIIG sword

[21:40] <Henryacores> He has a sword

[21:40] <HexedUnderIce> Not WDU, Balefire. :P

[21:40] <NA> which he is NOT compensating anything with it. He's all around awesome dammnit!

[21:40] <Otherarrow> BOTH! Combined even!

[21:40] <Leon5550> Damn! Dirty Harry's a badass

[21:40] <Yuanchosaan> Ahem. <prophecy voice> The hero shall come, with angels singing his praises. He shall wield a sword! A big sword, worthy of his maginificence! And a katana! And a spear! And a gun!"

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[21:41] <HexedUnderIce> Is the sword made of crystal?

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[21:41] <Otherarrow> Does the gun shoot stars?

[21:41] <Diablocon> No, but the bullets from the gun are

[21:41] <NA> no. It is made out the power of /fabulous/.

[21:41] <Otherarrow> XD

[21:41] <Leon5550> The bullets turns into summoned creatures when fired

[21:41] <Yuanchosaan> And the sword shall be made of crystal, and the gun of adamantite, and the katana of mithril, and the spear of...we ran out of cool metals, but take our word for it. It's AWESOME.

[21:41] <Leon5550> And the shooter have to say the SAME thing before firing a bullet

[21:41] <Diablocon> Kaze's done that Leon

[21:42] <Yuanchosaan> I mean, it's fabulous.

[21:42] <Diablocon> Oh, that's what you're referencing XD

[21:42] <Leon5550> Now Imagine firing in full auto mode...

[21:42] <Otherarrow> XD

[21:42] <HexedUnderIce> What about Mythamantite?

[21:42] <Diablocon> Damascus Yuan!

[21:42] <HexedUnderIce> or Orialchum?

[21:42] <Otherarrow> Awesomechum?

[21:42] <Otherarrow> Awesomnese?

[21:42] <Leon5550> Mythril? Adamantium? Orichalcum? Kryptonite?

[21:42] <HexedUnderIce> LOL

[21:42] <Otherarrow> lol

[21:42] <NA> the guns automatically performs a Nuclear-Generated Stars-Blowing Up-Gamma Ray gun when fired. AND Leeroy is immune to the radiation. and the recoil.

[21:43] <Yuanchosaan> Unobtainmythalmithril "simply fabulous" awesomekryptooricalium Damascus spear.

[21:43] <Leon5550> And the explosion, of course

[21:43] * HexedUnderIce just rolled off his couch laughing *

[21:43] <Otherarrow> But the recoul gives hima  nice tan!

[21:43] <Otherarrow> *recol

[21:43] <Otherarrow> XD> Unob....Simply....XD

[21:43] <Yuanchosaan> It ain't a spear, actually.

[21:44] <Otherarrow> Oh?

[21:44] <Henryacores> The gun has to shoot Meteors

[21:44] <NA> the spear is made out of platinum.

[21:44] <Yuanchosaan> Spears are for ordinary heroes, and those are below Leeroy.

[21:44] <Leon5550> Platimum's too weak

[21:44] <Otherarrow> It is another sword?

[21:44] <Leon5550> And peasants use spears

[21:44] <Otherarrow> REAL heros use like 20 swords!

[21:44] <HexedUnderIce> An axe?

[21:44] <Diablocon> It's a trident?

[21:44] <HexedUnderIce> OR AN AXESWORDSPEARGUN

[21:44] <Yuanchosaan> It's a Naginata. Because anything from Japan is "Just Better" (TM)

[

 But love that word... Horacio the moralist, fearful of passions born without some deep-water reason, disconcerted and surly in the city where love is called by all the names of all the streets, all the buildings, all the flats, all the rooms, all the beds, all the things forgotten or remembered. My love, I do not love you for you or for me or for the two of us together, I do not love you because my blood tells me to love you, I love you because you are not mine, because you are from the other side, from there you invite me to jump and I cannot make the jump, because in the deepest moment of possession you are not mine, I cannot reach you, I cannot get beyond your body, your laugh, there are times when it torments me that you love me (how you like to use the verb to love, with what vulgarity you toss it around among plates and sheets and buses), I am tormented by your love because I cannot not use it as a bridge because a bridge cannot be supported by just one side, Wright or Le Corbusier will never make a bridge that is supported by just one side, and don't look at me with those bird's eyes, for you the operation of love is simple, you'll be cured before me even if you love me as I do not love you. Of course you'll be cured, because you're living in health, after me it'll be someone else, you can change things the way you do a blouse. So sad to listen to Horacio, the cynic who wants a passport-love, a mountain-pass love, a key-love, a revolver-love, a love that will give him the thousand eyes of Argos, ubiquity, the silence out of which music is possible, the root out of which a language can be woven.

[...]

As if you could pick in love, as if it were not a lightning bolt that splits your bones and leaves you staked out in the middle of the courtyard.

----
Hopscotch, Chapter 93, by Julio Cortazar.

Tags: literature

A friend wanted to see this, so here's another random story. It's extremely clunky with exposition in parts. I would have liked to further explore the construction of literature with Em's writing and do some worldbuilding, but was constrained by word limits.
---- 
Click. Whirr. Buzz.

 

The machine hummed and ticked quietly to itself, gears spinning contentedly. Jon patted the machine fondly. What a marvel of technology, he thought! Capable of churning out a million, a billion novels, all lovingly crafted together from carefully constructed sentences, each chosen to give the greatest meaning, the utmost poignancy.

 

His job: to place each plot element in its appropriate position, selecting to form the perfect narrative structure. A happy ending or a tragic kill-‘em-all; a passionate love affair, a thrilling military mission – anything and everything the reader wanted. Books serve to give people pleasure, and they had mastered the art of creating the perfect book for each individual.

 

He read through the next order on the list. “An ancient conspiracy, assassin haunting the protagonist, no one can be trusted,” he murmured. Delicately he slipped in the “betrayal from a trusted friend” twist, compounded with a “return of a long lost family member”; debated the merits of “redemption by death” and finally added in an “all is not as it seems” stinger. He could hear the machine beating out a rhythm with him as he tapped the controls, the living and mechanical building a story.

 

Click. Whirr. Buzz.

 

With a sigh Jon relaxed back in his seat, smiling. 10 minutes and 33 seconds! “And not a moment too soon,” he noted, as two young women bustled into the shop.

 

“Wow, Em, look at the new range they have!” gasped one, a tall blond clutching a shopping bag to her chest. She rocked back and forth excitedly, mouth agape.

 

Her shorter companion looked less impressed, peering short-sightedly over thin-rimmed glasses. “You’re not going to look at those cheapie 5-for-2 romance novels are you, Nicole?” she asked quietly. “I can’t understand how you read those things. Absolute rubbish.”

 

“Oh Em,” Nicole replied theatrically, rolling her eyes, “Stop pulling that serious reader thing. Liven up! Sure, they’re not completely tailor-made by the R.I.T.R’s, but they have such a big range.” She gestured encouragingly towards a brightly lit display. “All you have to do is click your heroine from this list, followed by the love interest, the setting, the type…all set!”

 

Em brushed chocolate strands of hair out of her eyes, frowning. “Nicole, you know this isn’t what I’m looking for.”

 

“Oh? Then maybe let’s look at the presets. The expense can be a bit much, but they spend weeks on these. They’re so up to date,” exclaimed Nicole.

 

Em gently removed Nicole’s hand from her arm. “It’s fine. I’ll just go and pick up my package.”

 

“She always does this to me,” Nicole complained to Jon. Devoid of her companion, she picked out the nearest person.

 

“Your friend doesn’t seem to be interested in books,” Jon observed.

 

“It’s not that. She loves them, but she’s never satisfied. What’s more, she doesn’t even know why.”

 

“I…I see,” stammered Jon, slightly take aback.

 

“You see? I don’t at all. Every book is tailor made for her, and she still isn’t happy.”

 

“We’re holding a promotional tour later today,” he replied brightly, “The director promises updates in all areas, including absolutely new mechanics for crafting books. Perhaps your friend can find something she likes.”

 

“Thanks a bunch! Hey, is that the R.I.T.r 2400 over there?” she inquired.

 

Jon slapped the appliance cheerfully. “It is indeed. This baby is the one that makes all our specially designed novels.”

 

“How did people ever cope without machines to produce their novels?” Nicole marvelled.

 

“Who knows?” said Jon, shrugging.

 

Em sat curled up, arms wrapped protectively around the book package. With trembling fingers she removed the book from its brown paper bag.

 

The book assailed her eyes with dazzling advertisements. “Guaranteed to satisfy your book wants!” proclaimed the cover. “Your credit back if unsatisfied.” “Like these? Submit your book model to have more produced of similar themes.” The back had much the same, dominated by the Autor company’s logo.

 

She flicked the book open, rapidly scanning the pages. The character archetypes were exactly as she had requested, the story convoluted but comfortingly familiar. Her finger lingered over the “Suddenly a shot rang out” line. Absolutely classic.

 

She slammed the book shut. “This is not what I’m look for,” she muttered, “It’s exactly what I asked for…but not what I need.”

 

Romancer, thriller, mystery, fantasy, science fiction, westerns – she had tried countless genres. She had read the presets, selected all elements randomly, sent in a thousand orders; nothing managed to surprise her. By now she had begun to suspect that all novels were simply shallow reflections of the one novel. Perhaps her novel could only be found by tearing apart that novel’s pages and beginning anew.

 

She heard the tinkle of jewellery. Nicole had probably finished babbling to the guy at the desk.

 

“Em!” Nicole trilled as she burst in, “I know just the thing for you. We’ve been invited to join a tour of Autor’s new workings!”

 

Emm smiled tiredly. For all Nicole’s natter, she never stopped caring. “Thanks, Nicci. That sounds wonderful.”

 

They joined a crowd of people chattering excitedly amongst themselves, anxiously anticipating the tour.

 

            “Can’t believe they’re releasing this early…”

            “…preset upgrades, dunno about that…”

            “…I hear the R.I.T.r’s will need less human support.”

            “Look, look, he’s here!”

 

All eyes focused on the man who had just entered. A sigh seemed to exhale from them simultaneously: “Director Atticus.” His ancient face looked benevolently upon them, the wise sage leading his people.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he greeted them solemnly, “I thank all of you, our loyal readers, for coming to our tour today. I can promise you that what we will display now will completely revolutionise the book world.”

 

“You are all familiar with how the R.I.T.r’s work. We isolate sentences, themes, even individual words, categorising them. You, the reader, choose the plots and characters that you want. The R.I.T.r’s simply select the best of the repository – but it is also more than that. They are true miracle workers, able to craft stories from their elements.”

 

He snapped his fingers, summoning two workers to wheel in a covered trolley. With a practised gesture he whisked the cloth away, revealing a gleaming new machine. The crowd let out an appreciative sigh. This contraption left the 2400 far behind: sleek, silver and modern, with gears hidden neatly.

 

“After 10 years, we introduce the R.I.T.r 2410.” He waited for the wave of murmurs to die down. “We offer the normal upgrades: segues have been smoothed, the number of similes, metaphors and themes increased; motifs varied, elements multiplied. Of course, we also offer much more – three main features, in fact.”

 

“The first is the MiniMaxi system. With this, the R.I.T.r can be programmed to select the minimum number of words to deliver the absolute maximum effect. We know that your time is valuable; we aim to allow readers to enjoy as many wonders from the world of our novels as possible.”

 

“The second is the ability to choose the style of the novel you want, whether it be from an existing book model, an older machine, or perhaps even the work of writers.” He emphasised the word strangely, different from the familiar “R.I.T.r”. “Most of you are unlikely to know the word. Even I do not remember writers; it was my father who told me, and he had it from his father’s father, and so on.”

 

“A writer is a person who creates books, without the help of machines.”

 

The entire audience gasped. People…creating books? What a preposterous idea! Why would anyone want the flaws in such a work, the inherent bias of the creator (how arrogant!)? Who would want to read a book which did not target the reader?

 

Director Atticus lifted his hand for calm. “I know what you are thinking – but this is the purpose of this feature; the ability to mimic the style of authors, removing any distasteful elements. How much creativity can be harnessed, how high will the potential of the R.I.T.r’s go?”

 

“And why stop at simply removing parts of the style? The third feature goes beyond this: we take the style of the author, and completely transplant them to a new genre. Imagine the sweetness of a romance in the thrill of an adventure. Each unique manner finds a new home.”

 

He paused, savouring the moment. “That brings us to our newest range…with these tools in our hands, we have so many possibilities ahead of us. Imagine the ability to recreate any classic novel to your liking, the opportunity to pick and choose from the very best, to taste the pleasures of an age long gone. That is what we, Autor, offer to you today.”

 

The spectators burst into rapturous applause and immediately began to assail the Director with questions, praise and requests for autographs, a seething creature bustling and shouting.

 

“Director! Director Atticus!” called a high, tremulous voice that just managed to pierce the din, “I was wondering…can people now become writers?”

 

The crowd-creature stopped, all eyes staring at Em. A slow titter began, spreading through the multitude until it became a curtain of soft laughter. Em stood her ground, despite the rising colour in her cheeks.

 

“My dear…” murmured the Director, “Why would you ever want to?”

 

“I was just thinking…people used to do this before. Maybe we could find something new…”

 

“Writers have no place in our world now,” said the Director coldly, “I suggest you stop this silly dream of yours – no one would ever wish to read something created by a writer.”

 

 Nicole grabbed Em’s wrist. “I’m sorry Director, she can be such a silly bird at times. We really appreciate what you’ve prepared for us, absolutely fantastic.” In hushed tones she continued to Em, “We’re getting out of here,” half dragging Em out of the shop. Laughing and taunting chased them:

“What an idiotic woman”

“Who does she think she is?”

“Writers are dead and gone.”

 

When they were a fair way from Autor, Nicole finally dropped Em’s arm. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, hands on hips. “Don’t you know that what you’re suggesting would completely threaten Autor’s stability? You’re lucky the Director didn’t sue you!”

 

“I was just thinking aloud…”

 

“Then don’t! The entire book market is worth absolute billions. People know what they want, they think it’s the only way.”

 

“There might be some other way…”

 

Nicole shook her head. “Don’t be so naïve, Em. Maybe there was, a long time ago. But no one writes now; no one knows how to. You couldn’t even start. Alright, perhaps you might discover something new and amazing – but think what that would do to everyone. We will have been deprived of it, reading from the machines; throwing something new at us would make that past life false. Autor would die, and with it all those jobs from making and maintaining the R.I.T.r’s all around the world, all the booksellers.”

 

“What if you fail? You heard all those people back there; you’ll be derided by society. Autor won’t ever leave you alone. Face it, that person was right: “Writers are dead and gone”.”

 

Em said nothing, merely staring at her hands.

 

I sit at my desk, staring at the blank piece of paper in front of me. Maybe Nicole is right. Is writing so incredibly selfish, is it beyond us to realise our dreams and communicate our messages to others with our own abilities? Can we understand another person, enter the world of another, meet the shadow of a writer?

 

Perhaps my book can’t be found there either. I’ve never written a story before, never even read a human book. Who is to say that it will be any different from all the rest, that it will be unique or original, not another reflection of that book? Is it worth the risk? So much seems to rest on simple words.

 

I pick up the pen with trembling fingers. “Hello. My name is Em. I want to tell you a story…”

Tags: writing
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: cheerful
Current Music: A Night in Fantasia 2004

Apologies for the lack of posts lately. My computer broke down, but we should be back on schedule by tomorrow. 

Tags: information
Current Location: Australia
Current Mood: pensive

"The Wondering Minstrels" is one of my favourite sites, with a very simple concept: a poem each day, with commentary. Unfortunately, the site hasn't been updated in several years. There are other poetry sites, but "Minstrels" remains the best.

I love poetry. This is not a common thing these days - so I wish to share the passion of poetry with others. Therefore, I shall start a similar thing to Minstrels. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday I shall post a poem I love, with or without comments.

Is it likely that many people will read these poems? Probably not. However, whatever people I may reach will give me gladness. I hope also that through this I will rediscover many of the poems that lie buried under layers of dust in my mind.

Have a poem you'd like to share? Know any good sites or communities? Feel free to leave a comment, or ask for my email. Guest submissions would be welcome.
 
Edit: The community is up! http://community.livejournal.com/poemforaday/

Tags: poem of the day, poetry
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: loved
Current Music: U2

The first part of three thematically related stories (hence the trailing off), all of which are based on artworks I made.

----

The Foolish Princess stood on the ramparts before the flames: the same flames, which, cackling in delight, had consumed her kingdom, swallowing buildings and her people in its greedy maw. The scent of their crisping bodies and the taste of the ashes choked her; the smoke wreathed her shadowy silhouette as she stared beyond them. The army below laughed at her, laughed at her weakness and sorrow, laughed with the voice of the fire; their spear points gleaming like embers. Her people watched, beaten and despairing.

 

Foolish, vain princess, they thought. What could she do for them? Squanderer of money; dry of eye at her father’s death; proud, greedy and arrogant – it was she who had brought this ruin down on their kingdom. The crowd murmured “Punish her, not us.” The crowd accused “What would the old king say, seeing this?” Family, friends, flames: all gone. The fire snickered.

 

The Princess did not cringe. She simply walked closer to the blaze, despite the increasing heat which sucked the moisture from her skin.

 

“O conquering army,” she cried. “You have come with steel and flame, wreaking your destruction on my people and my lands. For this, I can never forgive you. You have brought sorrow, and dried our sorrow. You have brought hatred, and crushed it.” She stepped forward again, and unsheathed her sword. The inferno beneath her snapped and strained towards her, the hot wind whipping the Princess’s dress behind her. Her golden hair, streaming around her, caught the crimson gleams in the flames until it seemed that she herself was the fire, the fire’s rage, come down to Earth to smite them. So terrible and queenly she looked that even the crowd stared and wondered. The young Pauper, cowering beneath a cart, beheld the Princess as if for the first time. Foolish Princess? At this moment, he loved her.

 

“I love my people,” she called, softening. “I feel their pain, their fear. I am the Queen and I am the Land. It is for them that I speak when I say this: Leave this place!”

The Commander stood forward and smirked, transfiguring his handsome face into something almost bestial. “Leave? Princess, you are more foolish than I thought. We have won this land. Look, your people are defeated.”

 

The Princess held his gaze steadily. “My people will never be defeated. Their hate and spirits are strong. You think you have conquered them, but so long as the line and heart remain, we will fight, and devour you from within. No peace will you know here, no love nor happiness.”

“I swear this on blood, sword and flame. Know our hatred, and fear.” The light gleamed on the edge of the sword as the Princess thrust it into the air.

“You will heap pain upon your people as well as mine, princess,” said the Commander. “Is this your “love”?”

“Then I offer you a choice. Stay, and feel our wrath. Leave, and I will give you both peace and my life – is that not mercy? Give my people back their lives. Let them rebuild and remain free. Without a leader, they are not a threat, so show your mercy to them. This I beg of you.”

The Commander looked thoughtful. “Do you swear it?” he asked, finally.

“By blood, sword and flame,” the Foolish Princess answered once more, and drew the blade across her fragile throat. Blood splattered over the beautiful face that she had once so adored to the ignorance of all else, as she toppled into the waiting embrace of the fire. The inferno roared even higher, the tendrils gently caressing her dying body, sharing it with the sky above.

 

“She was so beautiful…” whispered the Pauper in awe. “And so brave.”

“She was a fool,” grunted the Old Man. “Now we have no bargaining chip left, no protector or leader to stop them from doing whatever they want. What worth is an oath, or a martyr’s death?” He spat on the ground before them. “Only fools die willingly by fire.”

 

The Pauper looked at the blaze searing her hair in its leaping gold, far more glorious than the fripperies that she had once worn. “I do not think, in the end, that she was a fool…” he whispered, watching the sparks…

Tags: writing
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: pensive
Current Music: The Beatles

Art does not imitate life. Art - all art; literature, music, visual - resolves the elements and chaos of life into meaningful patterns, symbols, stories. We take this template and apply it to life in order to gain an understanding of it.

Tags: art
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: indescribable
Current Music: Beethoven's Symphony No. 5

I've really fallen in love with Leonard Cohen's version of "Hallelujah". Like most people, I was more familiar with Jeff Buckley's version, but the original is so different.

Cohen's voice is definitely an acquired taste: even now, I'm not so fond of it. But in Hallelujah, he manages to achieve such a poignancy, such a tone of anguish that it really strikes a chord in my soul. What a beautiful, sorrowful song.  

And even when it all went wrong
I'll stand right here before the Lord of Song
With nothing, nothing on my tongue but "Hallelujah"

Tags: music
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: cheerful
Current Music: Leonard Cohen

I love listening to the sound of the wind and rain at night time...

Some people tell me they find it frightening. I can't really describe why I love the sound to them. Sometimes I simply lie there and listen to the soft susurrus of the breeze, or the patter of rain and the sigh of the waves. It catches a little of the ephemeral beauty of nature for me. It's a feeling that is there only for a moment, that I want to keep forever.

That's one of the reasons I create art. Perhaps my poor skill can one day, sometimes, catch a tiny glimpse of the glory of nature, the moments which cause a catch in your throat.

The other reason?

I think I create art to make people smile.

Tags: artwork, nature
Current Location: Home
Current Mood: rejuvenated
Current Music: Mimi o Sumaseba soundtrack