He hadn't written anything in nearly a year. No. That wasn't entirely true. He had written something. Many somethings. Many somethings tantamount to nothing. They were no more than writing exercises. He would start with an idea, a wonderful idea, a brilliant beginning and it would go nowhere after a day. His flirtatious romance with inspiration was just that. His obsession with her kept him in withdrawal when she left and his sense of direction deteriorated. In his languor, he wondered why he kept to such deleterious circumstances. And then, she returned.
Most men are born in the hours nine and ten, rising in effort to the strength of noon, standing upon two legs and by sixteen on four wheels. By twenty-one they begin to retire from the twilight of adolescence. Through the night their indiscretions are committed. In the darkness many lives are snuffed by two and the final flames burn out at three. The silence and solitude are clearest in the waking hours of the early morning between five and seven. The image everyday of a post apocalyptic earth is comforting. Perhaps in knowing what the world was like before these concrete trees.
I wasn't going to title this one, but a title came. I don't think I've got the tone quite right either.
The Bridge
--You ever think of going back for a visit? --Where? No. Why? --I don't know. It's where you're from. --No. It's where my parents are from. I don't even know why they want to go back. Life is good here. Why go back? --Yeah, but don't you want to see what it's like? --No. I've been there. There's nothing there for me. --Well, wouldn't you want to go back home if you ever left? --This is my home. I was born and raised here. I know these streets, these people. This is my culture. This, with everyone like me. --Yeah, but... --I don't need to go to some town no one has heard of to affirm my identity. I don't. That place means nothing to me. I know. I want it to but it doesn't. Everything I want is here. I know who I am. I know my heritage. I know it will fade down the line. --But... --I can deal with it. I've met my share of overcompensating, self-hating snobs and posers and deniers. I'm not self hating. I know myself. I know this. I know you. I know. I know. I know you haven't quite figured yourself out yet... --You've thought about this a lot haven't you? --Yes, and.... You know... we'll go. We'll go. If you still want to, we'll go. Sometime. So can we go catch a movie now or something?
That "the tone isn't quite right" seems to me to be a hint or something, but for what? Such things in the eye of the beholder may indicate a reflection of a personal nature, perhaps.
ps I honestly don't read webcomics. I used to. But these days I don't even keep up with xkcd.
Perhaps your protagonist in the above dialogue is too straightforward? I'm just guessing here but when writing dialogues in text I often find myself telling more that I want to explicitly, because I feel limited by the medium.
xkcd has been stagnant for a while.
In what way? I always wonder how long high-output commentaries that cover broad topics will last, especially when they become a phenomenon in themselves. By now we'd be looking more at xkcd as a culture than a cartoon...
I think possibly the real reason I stopped reading was because the one time I commented on the LJ feed some internet-hobo tried to troll me.
Perhaps. I've had difficulty in writing such situations consisting of dialogue. And it is often closely tied to wall-of-text's lesser known sibling block-of-dialogue which might as well be a monologue.
For xkcd, the situations and jokes seem tired, but I can't say that I entirely agree with a certain xkcd hate blog, which appears to be written by the genuinely jaded.
Flight
It is a fiercely windy day, one where it is hard to breathe with the wind in my face. A blackbird is hovering in the distance, flapping but going nowhere. It neither dips nor rises. It only pushes forward into the headwind. I look around and her hair is tossed by the wind, occasionally falling in front of her face. She combs her hair away with her fingers only to have it in her face again. A twinge in my chest diverts my gaze. Like a fighter plane, the blackbird turns slightly and flies off with the wind to its belly.
but I can't say that I entirely agree with a certain xkcd hate blog, which appears to be written by the genuinely jaded.
Hahahahahahaha an xkcd hate blog? The date that was created was the date it matriculated into the mainstream. Incidentally that's also the event horizon for something eventually falling back into ignominity unless you become such a cultural icon that you pass through the middle of the black hole and out the other side into eternity, like Elvis, The Beatles, and Beethoven.
Parsat: Daisy Owl is charming and lighthearted, in fact in a way I am reminded of One Swoop Fell. I'm not sure they share nearly the same agenda but the tone...
I see the appeal in, as Mike Dutton puts it, "wanting to restore the age of innocence" or something like that. In fact I wanted to indulge in a similar tone and whimsy in my own project but eh...when you make the internet your commentary space it will never come out innocent...
I'm iffy about adding two more lines to this, but the Fe3+ is there.
Moronic Elegance
--So this guy, right, he reads my thing on mutual synchrony and quantum entanglement? --Pfft. Yeah. I can see where this is going. --This other guy has a problem with his spectral photometer. It's a simple electrical problem, so I tell him what the problem is and where to fix it. The guy, the first one I told you about, he like goes on to say, 'Hey, maybe it's got something to do with mutual synchrony.' --What the **** does that have to do with mutual synchrony? --I know right? --Did you put him in his place? --Yeah. I told him the shut up about stuff he didn't know and you know what he says? --Lemme guess... --'Maybe it has something to do with this mutual synchrony I've been reading about.'
Alright, I'm quite sure I'm missing something there with the whole ferric ion and all that...what were the two lines? And where the heck did this come from?
And...you know you want to write something about narcoleptic dragons.
Mutual synchrony is a sociology (or psychology) term, which would have been explained in the two lines I did not include. Synchrony is also obviously related to quantum entanglement, a physics term. (Segue to string theory!) But to put mutual synchrony and quantum entanglement together is ridiculous and perhaps deserves misappropriation.
Person A misuses Info A. Person B goes off on Person A. Person B recaps to Person C, revealing his own misuse of Info A and Info B.
I suppose it's obscure (Info A and Info B), but that's how it works sometimes, although the presentation could have been clearer. It's more a rant than anything (against pseudoscience and the arguments against the pseudoscience, especially when both sides are just as bad).
Nacopleptic dragons has got to be one of the more random themes, but I suppose you have an advantage given your medical background. All I have is nearly falling asleep in class, and you've written quite a monster, but we shall see.
Ah yes, I see now. I'm aware of synchrony in the social sense but since I know nearly nothing about quantum physics I thought quite possibly it was the name for some strange behavior with quarks in paired electrons or something or other like that. Since if one is measured as up at any one point in time then the measurement for the other would have been down or whatever it is you learn in high school...
I'm worried that people will think Ubertuna has finally gone off the deep end and refuse to participate, haha. Aside from advantages, it would take some real mental wrangling to work something intelligible out of that. Have you noticed the themes have become really obscure as of late?
