Earlier on I pondered the possibility of retrofitting the chapters I – III of Æquinoctium with individual titles and was literally buried under one reply. This being approving of my idea, I now have to come up with some witty headings – because that’s how democracy works, y’all!
It is with the making-up of a super-rare element called Tristanium that our charming redhead heroine sets the whole story in motion. So of course the first title is predestined to reflect this vital plot point. “Anomalous Materials” is also the first level of the video game classic Half-Life (1998), not counting the intro. Continue reading
I am aware that the last story (or in this case, chapter) took its sweet time to find its way to the World Wide Web. Therefore I’m eager to re-establish a certain flow in my postings. I cannot promise to deliver a new story/part this month, but there is a so far 2,000 words strong one in the pipeline. I can already tell, though, that this is going to be another biggie; no way I am able to stay below 10,000 words. Perhaps I will postpone this longer narration in favour of a short story I just recently got inspired to.
Whatever it will be in the end: no worries!
First of all: The story you are about to get a glimpse of is ready to roll, so you won’t have to starve through yet another month without new content. I reckon to submit it somewhere next week. Of course there is a certain reason for this delay: Soul in Chains was written on commission. But halfway through the very fruitful contact with the person who had requested it broke off, now leaving me with a work in need of final clearance. Although I believe to have hit all the right notes, I welcome said person to do the Final Cut. Continue reading
The sudden change of the operator’s tone and hectic noises in the background, soundtracked by unintelligible voices going back and forth, told her that she’d guessed correctly.
“Yes, can you― would you please wait a sec…?”
Another period of time went by, its duration slightly embarrassing for an organisation with a four letter acronym.
Then a second man addressed Denise, and with far more composure.
“Good morning, Ms Carlisle. My name is John Wollny. Please tell me how I may help you.”
“Who are you, exactly?”
“I support the dialogue between parties in situations like this.”
“Then please support my dialogue with the Housekeeper.” Continue reading
Today is my fifth anniversary on Word Press – reason enough to take a stroll down Nostalgia Street. (Actually, the anniversary was yesterday, but one has to consider the… uhm… the leap year, right, the leap year – or just learn how to read the bloody calendar!)
It had never been my intention to create a blog as such, but I still landed at WP because of its popularity and its “low-threshold-ness”. What I had in mind was to create a base camp for my stories, from where they could travel the vastness of the Internet. Continue reading
It is not without pride that I announce that with the last chapter, Part Forty-One, Pony Boot Camp has broken the 100,000 words barrier. According to my processing program, the current version including chapter headlines and so on is sporting exactly 102,520 words!
[pause for applause] Continue reading
Originally I had planned for Part Thirty-Nine to be released this month, but as so often before my writing routine was messed up by an annoying reality. Since I am now aiming at the first week of October, here’s something to shorten the waiting time: Continue reading
The fifth instalment of “How not to write a story”…
It was a bitter mockery that pony training was scheduled as our first activity.
is changed into:
It was a bitter mockery that pony training had been rescheduled to be our first activity. Continue reading
Darkness and disorientation awaited her as Denise woke up. Only slowly, in the rate her dizziness faded away, she was able to make sense of her surrounding and situation. Her body felt weak and chilly, and her back throbbed from lying on some hard surface. Her loss of consciousness hadn’t been caused by the stun gun. That deceiving bastard must have drugged her up once she had been incapacitated!
Denise tried to rise from her recumbent position, only to find her arms and legs trapped. At wrists and ankles as well as above elbows and knees she was bound with broad leather belts. Oh, and she was down to her slip and bra.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…!” Continue reading