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Author thread/ comp (Ended)

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Re: Author thread/ comp (under 7 weeks to go!!!!!!!)

Postby killmaimburn » Mon Oct 14, 2013 4:58 pm

:lol: :lol: :lol:
Wait a minute thats not lemonade !!!

So now you do :D
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Re: Author thread/ comp (under 7 weeks to go!!!!!!!)

Postby Baragash » Mon Oct 14, 2013 4:59 pm

*guilty face*

Well I only did my exam on Friday (81% woot!) so I wasn't planning to have done anything by now ;)
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Re: Author thread/ comp (under 7 weeks to go!!!!!!!)

Postby Bob_to_Some » Mon Oct 14, 2013 5:04 pm

I did actually start writing - up to 2750 words so far
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Re: Author thread/ comp (under 7 weeks to go!!!!!!!)

Postby killmaimburn » Mon Oct 14, 2013 5:08 pm

Bob_to_Some wrote:I did actually start writing - up to 2750 words so far

Whilst one welcomes the enthusiasm.. and as one who reads black library I'm sure I shall embibe every ripe word juicily milked from your noggin, I would suggest a nod to the opening post of a guidance of about 1000 words.. just so that other people read it and score it fairly.. if you wish to write a behemoth tome you are of course welcome..

And its not too late to enter, entry is merely deciding to write something and then submitting something you deem worthy before the deadline.


If any of you are super duper eager and want to just thrash the whole thing out before I've worked out what I'm doing when December hits.. I suggest you send your finished document as a PM to Spack. :D
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Re: Author thread/ comp (under 7 weeks to go!!!!!!!)

Postby Bob_to_Some » Tue Oct 15, 2013 8:56 am

Lol, this is simply coincidence - I was writing it anyway!

I can just submit the 1000 words - that's fine. It's like turd anyway :)

I'm aiming for 80k words (I read somewhere thats about the average for Sci Fi novels)
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Re: Author thread/ comp (under 7 weeks to go!!!!!!!)

Postby Baragash » Tue Oct 15, 2013 9:14 am

I've been quoted 100k for a novel so 80k doesn't sound unreasonable.

I've actually got a book where I note down novel ideas, but none of them seem to be compressable into something for this :(
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Re: Author thread/ comp (under 7 weeks to go!!!!!!!)

Postby Bob_to_Some » Tue Oct 15, 2013 9:48 am

Well.. here's the first 1003 words. - feel free to critic. a longer version will be on my blog: http://angrygrots.blogspot.co.uk/

Darkness

“Damn them.”

“They can rot in the pits of the abyss for all I care. Kill them, burn them, and utterly destroy them.” – Majir Tor’Grath


The first dawn had passed on Zyphas, the planets sole star passing overhead to warm the bitter cold ground from the nightmare that had been the dark hours. Men and women cowered with fear as the last remnants of the evening vanished, allowing them a brief moment of almost peace – the calm before the storm as it’s often called. As Morgaph looked out over the frail forms of nearly thirty survivors making the journey to the fields and shanty towns down river, he paused for a moment to look up to the sky. As the light from the dawn broke the darkness, the scene reminded him of a childhood story where light fights the dark, and eventually a hero emerges and destroys the darkness forever. Never had he thought the story could come true, until they arrived.

“Who are they? Will they hurt us? What do they want?”
The voices of the survivors rattled around the small confines of the shanty town hall, the largest building in the area capable of holding such a rabble in any formality. Morgaph was the first to break the noise with a calming yet overpowering voice – “They will be here soon, the landing was not far from here and we know of no other settlement that has survived. We need to find shelter, we don’t know which side they are on”
As he spoke, the gathering quietened, the look of sudden understanding spreading like fire throughout every face in the room. Not one soul needed reminding of the terrors that hunt in the night on Zyphas, the thought that something worse had come for them in the daylight didn’t sit well. A riot broke out, first just a scream, then panic and rushing to exit. The larger of the survivors pushed through the masses and inflicted more harm than good, bones breaking and any sense of order diminished – a free for all riot of fear and the very real need to escape taking over the small amount of control that remained.

Morgaph exited from the rear of the building, lighting one of the very last iho sticks he had left. All things considered, he thought to himself, there may not be another chance. The stick never made it to his lips, his body fell backwards with a small wound just starting to trickle blood down his brow. Slumping to the floor, Morgaph died. Nobody saw his killer, and nobody would remember his death.

Watching in complete silence, save for the voice in his mind, Ancronir the silent studied the scene. The human had been easy, he had to die as he showed the traits of one who could lead the rabble. That would only detract from this exercise and delay the coming of the Majir. He settled the scope of the long rifle, breathing gently as he sourced his next target. The voice in the back of his mind suddenly came to the fore “Do it… Kill it!” “Quickly!” Ancronir fought the urge to just shoot everything wildly, remembering less often that his body was own his and his skills were still useful to the Majir, despite the growing voice within to forget the past and just shed blood. No, this time he thought to himself it would be his way, not the voices way. Ancronir put pressure to the trigger grip, squeezing slowly as if savouring the joy of every moment, watching down his scope as he sighted the next prey, he felt the mechanical pull of the spring beneath the grip, the inner workings of the long rifle as if in slow motion – the sudden accelerant of the projectile firing down the barrel. He held is breath just enough to watch the moment of impact, a split second after pulling the trigger the prey fell.

“You missed.” Hissed the voice in his head.

Moira fell, bloodstained from a wound to the back of her neck that sprayed blood over the children running in front of her, two boys – no older than six standard years. Their faces dirty, pupils like pin pricks in the whites of their eyes, they ran on, Moira put her hand to her neck and tried to apply pressure whilst herding the boys to safety. Turning the corner of the hut they thought would hide them, she took note of what was going on. Dust was flying up from the ground as the few survivors fled from the area of the impromptu meeting and ran from the possibility of being attacked. She realized too late that that possibility was a reality, as she finally stemmed the wound from bleeding out.

“Why us… Why?” she stammered, hoping someone would answer but knowing otherwise. The boys tried to comfort her, but they were dazed, the fear and panic ruining any chance of comprehension they may have had. Daring a look out of the window, Moira looked to see who had shot her. She saw nothing but the final few survivors running into the distance, the dust began to settle and a strange calmness took over the shantytown. A single figure on the horizon clad in darkness and standing as tall as a normal man, strode into the town. He carried a rifle and had bags hanging from his body, clearly not a survivor – Moira held her neck and took another look.
“No… Please… No!” Moira picked herself up and gathered the boys to make a quick exit as she noticed those bags were actually heads.

Ancronir strode into the town; he knew full well there was prey here, those who were too slow to run.
“You missed.” The voice was becoming louder, more persistent and Ancronir was growing tired, soon the voice would take over and he would be forgotten. He stopped – movement ahead broke him from the cloud of anger at the voice in his mind – “Prey.”
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Re: Author thread/ comp (21 days to go!!!!!!!)

Postby killmaimburn » Sat Nov 09, 2013 11:17 am

Swwwweeeet, 1 in the bag, 3 more and we'll have a fully fledged AOS comp :wink: .

21 days to go, forget about your movemeber, or your new more awesome mohawvember.. its all about the official national novel writing november (apparently authors refrain from portmanteaus...lolz).
1 entry in and complete.. Somewhere a few weeks back you should have either started the skeleton and notes on muscle mass of your beast, or just started throwing thousands of words at a thing ready to edit down..Timeline wise you lot should be just about starting to think about putting some flesh and clothes on bits and pieces..working out whether dick really did get down with jane, or wether she was actually a skaven narwhall beast who ate his soul after he won the big game.

My piece is chugging along (as in its slightly smaller than my usual post lengths)..turning into a bit of an kMb Knight shamalan which I think I need to fix, because I do too many of those.

Is anyone else left out there, (I have drifted to get my rocks off other places) did everyone leave after the fun purge?
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Re: Author thread/ comp (12 days to go!!!!!!!)

Postby mattjgilbert » Thu Nov 21, 2013 11:47 am

I have a vague idea but will have to see if I have time to formulate it before the deadline. So much else to do :'(
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Re: Author thread/ comp (2 days to go!!!!!!!)

Postby killmaimburn » Fri Nov 29, 2013 9:50 am

Well for all you lot out there wanting to create, or just throw something down.. you've got today, saturday and sunday.Thread will lock at some point when I can remember early hours monday.

Still waiting for the great King-stoyefsky to lay down his cutting and insightful novella into the workings of the human heart in the 41st millenium.But remember you didn't have to register an interest in april, its not to late to get drunk have a visitation from the great ronnie and write down his words on gold tablets then upload them.
I'll put mine up probably tomorrow lunchtime after running it through another spellchecker.

(lolz facebook aos has a reach of 1..My cats site is more popular)
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Re: Author thread/ comp (2 full days to go!!!!!!!)

Postby killmaimburn » Sat Nov 30, 2013 12:18 pm

********************************************************************************************
They were underground, and it was raining..they could tell. The walls were clammy and unfinished.
But the air wasn’t stale and it wasn’t cold…they had talked and decided this indicated some form of artificial construction or at least not natural phenomenena.

There wasn’t much between them as a group, they all wore the same drab fatigues, you had to strain your eyes in the light to see anything that distinguished them from one another.
They had, of course, looked for an exit. Gone around the perimeter, gone through the trite ordeal of establishing a pecking order, the one slightly taller and with slightly more upper muscle mass believed he could now tell the others what to do.
They had tried digging, to no real effect. Although the walls appeared clay like with the moisture, they were impenetrably hard.
At that point the “leader” appeared to have renounced his mantle and sat with a sigh. A very brief rule.

Tybalt squatted against a wall minimizing his contact with both the wet walls and the damp floor. He didn’t believe he had anything to put in at this time.

Minutes ticked by, possibly probably minutes. The gloom, the lack of tell tale signs they were accustomed to using to chop up time were absent, making the only measurement of its passage the consensus of the group that none felt hungry.

The wall to Tybalts right let out a cracking sound,it was dry, brittle, flaking now,where once there was an oozy illusion of opacity, now a stark, less visceral, decay.

Tybalt stood, and approached a wall, he brushed the flecks and detritus.. they fell away with ease..but as he wiped away the layer,the fresh exposed underneath instantly dried and began to peel to replace it.
Others had noticed his whirling arm antics and now joined him scrubbing the wall, soon the air was think with particulate cast off.The pile of dust almost ankle deep. But whilst they could not judge the depth of their work, it was something to do, so they persisted.
The ‘work’ was repetitive, their arms and hands sore and red from polishing the wall down, 1 of them bled, but they carried on.
The changes were subtle but rewarding the wall lightened in hue, they could now see a little further. They carried on, many of them had small cuts and worn scraped skin now, but they carried on.
The wall had gone from a dark chalky brown to almost a vivid light pink, they scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until, with a sound like whipcrack, the paper thin wall cracked open. Tybalt wasn’t sure whether the group sighed in satisfaction or the room changed pressures suddenly, but something made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
He grabbed his comrades on either side and pulled them with him as he dived forwards.
His mouth reluctantly got to sample the bitter sump water expanse before the rest of him,as he rose up he heard a sound both wet gurgling and dry cracking as the cell behind them folded in on itself, trapping, presumably crushing those he hadn’t hurled with him.
Complaining noises of his companions were silenced as they too realised what had happened.

Perhaps it was the acrid bogwater they had landed in, or the allusion of journey into the light, but Tybalt suspected it was leaving the rotting progression of the beastly tree thing that had shaken off whatever mindmiasma had been clouding his thoughts.

Even with its trunk collapsed in on itself it stood a tall tower hundreds of feet tall,…amongst others, a cyclopean blade of grass in a lawn.

“Mercutio, do you…?” [Tybalt gestured to his forehead with his forefinger].

“Yes My lord, b..bb. the council..?”
“ gone, I’m afraid such is the way of this place.. Veron get up man, I take it we have you to thank for this modest increment in our lifespan?”

The third man raised himself from prone spat the taste out of his mouth and nodded.
“As the vines came down I dropped my satchel charge just as you said, must have taken out some of the root”

“ Good man,” and with that Tybalt set off at a brisk pace, only slightly hampered by the brackish water sloshing around his feet “We must plough on, I’m sure we shall have time to remember their great sacrifice and retell our tale many a time, but we must clear this area by sundown”.

The other 2 quickly caught up and flanked Tybalt matching his quick step, struggling to keep pace and nervously peer up at the same time.

The creaking of the boughs coming from the hungry tower plants followed beside them as they slogged through the mire....
*************************************************************************************
(the rest of it is ongoing in my head)
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Re: Author thread/ comp (2 full days to go!!!!!!!)

Postby Baragash » Sat Nov 30, 2013 1:05 pm

killmaimburn wrote:Minutes ticked by, possibly probably minutes.


:?:
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Re: Author thread/ comp (2 full days to go!!!!!!!)

Postby killmaimburn » Sat Nov 30, 2013 4:04 pm

Baragash wrote:
killmaimburn wrote:Minutes ticked by, possibly probably minutes.


:?:

I figure throwing in a garth marenghi mannerism/trope might encourage our literary elite to post in confidence ;)
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Re: Author thread/ comp (2 full days to go!!!!!!!)

Postby ruffian4 » Sun Dec 01, 2013 11:20 am

Baragash wrote:
killmaimburn wrote:Minutes ticked by, possibly probably minutes.


:?:

That's a secret handshake of the Todd Rivers fanclub.
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Re: Author thread/ comp (Ended)

Postby killmaimburn » Mon Dec 02, 2013 12:01 am

Well since it would be lunacy for an organiser to win, I shall step aside and let Bob_to_Some claim his throne as King Author of the table of strife.
Gentlemen it has been a privilege.


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