Ok, I just wanted to see if anyone was interested in hearing more.
This is almost everything (plot-related) that I've come up with so far. There are some other random details in my notes that aren't too important to the plot, I won't share those.
Alison ends up escaping the government fairly early, although she doesn't realize the true reason for it; she didn't really outsmart the gov, she simply was unaffected by their attempts to stop her. I'll explain that in a few lines.
Alison is on the run. She's not very good at it, since most people don't do petty things like "camping" anymore. Also, the gov't seems to be especially good at finding her. It's almost like magic.
Eventually, Alison ends up in The Cave. I'm not sure if she finds it on her own, or if someone leads her there. The only entrance to The Cave is by swimming down into a pool of water, and the pool is contaminated with iron, so it repells magic. Inside The Cave is a secret hideout for mortals. All of the escaped mortals are trying to stop the government, because the gov't wants to wipe out mortals. Alison joins them.
Why does the gov't want to destroy the mortals? Well, it turns out that the mortals aren't as powerless as they seem. See, they have the power to see through all the mind tricks. The government is officially a democracy, but their hasn't been a presidential election for over a decade. The power-hungry politicians have found a new type of power; Dark Magic. They're using mind control to keep the people under control, but the mortals are immune (at least, the ones that haven't been exterminated are).
Eventually, The Cave gets an unexpected visitor; Alison's (ex-)boyfriend. Alison convinces the rest to trust him, but he can't do much but inform them about the gov't's actions. If he were to fight, the gov't would control him. As it is, if he is caught they could interrogate him for The Cave's location, and he would have to give it to them.
The mortal's struggle to establish their right to live is a compelling one, and their seems to be a lot of potential for drama surrounding the ex, and yes, things seem to fit together. I think your idea has a lot of plot potential, but also a lot of potential for author bias (your political views, your experiences) to come in and make the story less accessible for people who don't share that point of view. I'd like to see the story play out.
Thanks. I'm going to do my best to avoid bias, which should be fairly easy when it comes to politics since the government is fairly black-and-white (killing=bad, dictatorship-of-the-world=bad). Unless, of course, you support genocide, in which case this may not be the book for you.
In making it too black and white, you can lose a lot of potential antagonistic depth, which is all the rage with the kids these days. I don't mean to avoid bias, since bias is unavoidable, rather don't let the book become your outlet for your political ideas rather than a story in and of itself.
Hmm... Depth in the president would definitely enhance it, at least. I'm going to have to do some more thinking about that. I'm planning on writing in the third person, so it shouldn't be too difficult to go into detail about other characters.
Dedicated to Lucida C.
Special Thanks to Charles Bigelow and Kris Holmes
You are perfect.
Nothing else compares
to your gentle shapes
and glowing form.
Others try
to replace you,
to show you up,
but never with sucess.
Long hours I have watched you.
From afar,
from close by,
anywhere we meet.
Lucida, Lucida,
your beauty can't be matched.
you captivate me
with perfection.
Lucida,
I can't imagine
this world without you,
without us.
Lucida.
A beautiful name.
It suits you well,
for you are perfect.
Lucida,
I see the how others
adore you, but
I am not jealous.
I know,
Lucida,
that we will always
have each other.
Lucida,
I admit I've left before,
but I will always come back
for you.
Lucida,
nothing else compares.
Lucida,
you are perfect.
Another poem, rough draft, for fun. Also, changed first post. All spoilers now contain links to the post which contains the story.
Criticizing from a feminist perspective (which I don't often take), the poem holds Lucida to an unrealistic standard. There's something slightly frightening about it, especially the last two sentences.
Dr. Seuss, he had it right;
(Whenever, in fact, he did write)
To add a rhyme is to add some fun,
For everything and everyone!
Once you start, it's hard to stop,
You think of rhymes for words like "pop."
And if you're stuck on words like "orange,"
You can use half-rhymes with words like "door-hinge!"
I'm only beginning to realize that Douglas Adams walked a fine line between stupidity and comedy. Emulating his writing is hard.
You know what else is hard? Keeping your names straight. I keep wanting to write Emily (the tritagonist in Topaz Adventures) instead of Amy (deuteragonist/tritagonist in a different story).
Finally, I'm surprised that I haven't posted this yet:
The Island
****The Knight crouched down, raised the Weapon. The Beast lowered its head, scratched the dirt, and prepared to charge. The Knight leapt to the left, standing between the Beast and the Great Tree, and he waits for the Beast to charge.
****The Beast let out a growl as it began its swift advance. The Knight is faster; he jumped up and gathered air beneath him to slow his decent. He cast out the Staff, and the Orb at its end glowed red as it let out a wall of flame.
****The Beast was startled and changed course, moving to the right, avoiding the dangerous wall. The Knight was waiting for him there. He held up his hand and let forth a burst of force from the Pyramid on his Ring. The Beast was sent flying back, and lets out a surprised yelp. It pauses for a moment before retreating. There are other trees to eat from, it decides. Other trees that are not so dangerous.
****One man, a blacksmith from the Village across the Lagoon, watched this battle with great interest. As the Knight brushed the dust from his brilliant Cloak, the Villager approached him.
****“I have heard much of your power, about how you ward off the Beasts and locked away the Monster” the Villager began, “but I did not truly comprehend your power until I saw you fighting just now. You are able to protect the Great Tree,” The young blacksmith bowed to the Great Tree before continuing, “without harming any of the Beasts. You must be the most powerful person on the Island.”
****“I simply protect the Island to the best of my abilities,” replied the soft-voiced Knight. “It is the Scribe who is the most powerful in the land, and who does the most to protect the Island.” He motioned towards the branches of the Great Tree. Sitting in the lower branches was a young woman. A great contrast to the Knight, with his brilliant Cloak and gleaming headband, the Scribe was clothed in simple dress. In place of the Weapon, Staff, and other objects that held the Knight’s power, the Scribe held a single scroll and a pure, white quill.
****The Scribe dropped from the Great Tree as the Knight continued, “It is the Scribe, and her Script, that give me power. It is she who writes the fate of the Island.”
****The Scribe smiled at the Knight, kissed him on the cheek. “The Knight and I are the Guardians, and so we must do all we can to protect the Great Tree.” The Scribe’s voice was soft like the Knight’s, but held a tone of authority that the Knight did not match. “It is the Objects that hold this Island together. The Guardians may come and go, but the Objects must always be there. The people of the Island must remember that their safety lies in the Objects, not the Guardians. There will come a time, however, when the Guardians will need more than the Objects to protect the Island. We can only hope that the Guardians, whoever they will be, are prepared for the challenge.”
****The young blacksmith did not fully understand the Scribe. Few ever did, for she often spoke in prophecies or riddles, or told of unimaginable futures or pasts. The Knight, however, was of the same mind of the Scribe, and he never had trouble understanding her.
****The blacksmith bade the two Guardians farewell, and left them at the Great Tree. Both the Scribe and the Knight resided near the Great Tree while they were in the Town. The Knight did so because he felt that it was his duty to protect the Great Tree, and the Scribe did so because she felt obligated to protect the Knight. The Guardians always traveled together, because they depended on each other, and felt lonely in each other’s absence.
****The Guardians did, in fact, have names once, but they lost these when they took up their roles. They do not mind this because their new names describe them better than any birth name could. The Scribe was the Scribe. The Knight was the Knight.
****The following evening, the Guardians left the Town. Every month they would travel around the Island, watching over its inhabitants, although they spent most of their time in the Town, guarding the Great Tree. Both of them carried a backpack full containing food and supplies, but they brought as little as possible on their travels.
That day, they were travelling across the Lagoon to visit the Village. Boat was the fastest way to reach the Village, for the Island was divided by a Swamp that made travel by land difficult. The ship that the Guardians took was shared by several other passengers, including the young blacksmith that they met the day before.
****“Hello, Knight, Scribe,” the blacksmith greeted them. “Are you visiting the village?”
****“Yes,” said the Scribe. “We intend to spend a few days there before following the Lagoon to the Swamp, where we will check if the Camp is still doing well.”
****“Do you have a place to stay while in the Village?” asked the blacksmith. “The nights can be very harsh in the desert. If you have no other plans, I would be honored to house you for your stay.”
****The Guardians considered this. They usually chose to camp outside the Village, but it was true that the nights would be especially harsh with Winter approaching. Without speaking a word, they conversed with each other and decided to accept the blacksmith’s offer.
****“That would be very kind,” said the Knight. “Thank you.”
****“It would be my pleasure,” replied the blacksmith.
****It was night by the time that the ship reached the Village. The flame in the Village Lighthouse cast a glow over the docks. The blacksmith led the Scribe and the Knight to his house.
****The blacksmith’s house was made of clay and roofed with wood, much like the houses around it. He led the Guardians inside and showed them their beds, then went to the kitchen to prepare some tea. The Guardians unpacked their bags, and then went to the table to discuss their plans. The blacksmith returned from the kitchen and placed a cup of tea in front of each of them, and they thanked him.
****The Guardians had become very cautious people over the years, especially when it came to food and drink. The Knight glanced at the Scribe, who withdrew her Script from her pocket. She unrolled it under the table and scribbled a few words. Satisfied with the results, she nodded and returned the Script to her pocket. Both Guardians took a sip of tea.
****Seated around the table, the Guardians and the blacksmith discussed the Island, their jobs, their thoughts. The blacksmith was the man who forged weapons for the Island’s soldiers, the ones who protected the Citizens form the Beasts. The blacksmith had many questions about the Knight’s gear, especially his Weapon. “What design do you prefer?” He asked. “What techniques do you use? How sharp is its blade?” While the Knight answered the blacksmith’s questions, the Scribe retired to her room.
****It was very late at night, or perhaps very early in the morning, when the blacksmith allowed the Knight to get some rest. Before the Knight could arrive at his room, there was a frantic knocking on the door. The Knight instinctively answered it.
****“Is there a problem?” he asked.
****“Knight! It is fortunate that you are here!” responded the man. “Something terrible has happened at the Camp near the Swamp! Something has attacked the Camp and dragged away some of its people! You must save them!”
****The Knight immediately began to prepare to go to the Swamp. The Scribe heard him collecting his Objects.
****“Where are you going?” she asked.
****“There has been an incident at the Camp. I must go help them.”
****“I will go with you.”
****“No, you should get some sleep. You must be well-rested in order to fulfill your duties.”
****But the Scribe insisted that the Knight bring her along, and the Knight finally agreed.
****For most occasions, the two Guardians would have crossed the Desert and hiked through the Swamp to get to the Camp, or they would have taken the Path from the Town. Some days, they would travel by boat, although it is difficult to land a boat on the shore near the Camp. This time was an emergency, so they took the fastest route at their disposal: the sky.
****The Scribe held tight to the Knight’s Cloak, and the Knight swiped his Staff at the ground. The Orb atop the Staff glowed a light grey color, and as it moved a gust of wind followed it. The force of the wind flung the Knight upwards and away from the Village. He landed several dozen meters away. Again he slashed the Staff through the air, and again he flew through the air. The Orb had enough power to let them fly high above the trees, but the Knight stayed close to the ground so that the Scribe would not be too greatly injured if she fell.
****The Guardians leaped across the Desert and over the Swamp in less than a quarter of an hour. When they landed at the Camp, they were greeted by a scene of destruction.
****Something had knocked over most of the tents in the Camp, and there were large claw marks all over the ground. One of the people living at the Camp, an explorer of the Swamp, met the Guardians.
****“What happened here?” asked the Knight.
****“It was one of the Monsters,” answered the explorer.
****“A Monster? They usually stay in the Swamp unless they are attacked, and it is difficult to get deep enough into the Swamp to see one.”
****“I did not see the Monster myself, but I know where it came from.”
****“What do you mean?”
****“I was in the Swamp, on the side by the Sea, and I noticed that several trees had been uprooted. I went deeper into the Swamp to see if I could find out what happened. The trail didn’t go far.” The explorer paused.
****“Go on,” prompted the Scribe.
****“At the end of the trail of wreckage, I found a large metal plate. It had been bent out of form.”
****The Knight turned pale. “No,” he said, “it can’t be.”
****“Yes,” responded the explorer. “The Vault had been opened. I hurried back to Camp to warn them, but it was too late.”
****“Are you sure?” asked the Scribe. “The Vault was impossible to open from the inside, even if the Great Monster was awake. Someone would have had to open it from the outside.”
****“I don’t know who opened it, but the Great Monster was gone.”
****The Knight moved towards the tracks that the Great Monster had left behind. The Scribe joined him. She was drawing something on her Script.
****“It is unmistakable,” said the Knight. “These are its tracks.”
****“Yes,” said the Scribe. She showed him the Script. It was printed with a map of the Island. At the top left of the map was the Mountain, and an “X” covered the entrance to the Cave at the top. “The Great Cthulhu has been released. It is at the Mountain now, so we should have time to get the people away from here before it returns.”
****“You must take care of that,” said the Knight. “I need to go to the Cave to rescue the people that it took.”
****“Are you sure that you can do that alone?”
****The Knight took an hourglass from his belt and gave it to the Scribe. He had not used the Time for many months, so the bottom of the hourglass was filled with golden sand. “Take the Time. I will go to Cthulhu, keep it from attacking the people. Tell the people here to cross to the Village, through the Swamp. Cthulhu is not liked by the other Monsters, so it will be hesitant to enter the Swamp. Once they cross the Desert, they will be safe. Once you send them off, go to the Town. Send them to the Village by boat.”
****“But Cthulhu can travel by water. It can attack the boats.”
****“Use the Script to aid their journey. Then, I must ask you to stay in the Town, near the Great Tree. Close the Town gates.”
****“Why do I need to stay at the Town? Shouldn’t I go to the Mountain to help you?”
****“No. That is why I gave you the Time. If I find that Cthulhu has grown too strong, you will have to activate the plan. You will need both the Script and the Time for that.”
****The Scribe nodded, but was very nervous. She knew that the plan was made for emergencies like this, but she had hoped that she would never have to use it. Using might save the Island, but it could also destroy the Island. Would anyone be able to free the Island, or would it be trapped between times forever?
****The Knight held her hand. “We’ve beaten it before, haven’t we? We’ll do it again,” he said, although he didn’t sound very confident.
****The Scribe nodded. “I know,” she said.
****The Knight kissed her good-bye and left for the Mountain in the Wastelands, and the Scribe began to evacuate the Camp.
****The plan was created by the original Guardian: the Librarian. He watched over all of the Objects and kept track of who had them. At that time, there was no Scribe or Knight, and the people of the Island competed for them. Each Object had its own temple or shrine where these competitions took place.
****Eventually, it became clear that people were abusing the power of the Objects. Instead of using them to protect the Island, people would use the Objects for selfish reasons. The Librarian decided that the only way to ensure the safety of the Island would be to entrust the Objects to trustworthy Guardians. These Guardians would use the Items to protect the Island and its people.
****Before he appointed the Guardians, he invented the plan. It was a lengthy chain of events that would unfold if the Island was in danger. In order to activate the plan, one would have to write a certain symbol on the Script then use the Time to begin.
****Once the plan was activated, the Island would be locked in time and the Objects would be cast away. In order for the Island to be saved, someone from the outside world would have to collect all of the Objects and return them to the Island. No one but the Librarian had done this before, so the Librarian was confident that whoever collected them would be skillful enough to save the Island.
****The Librarian gave the most powerful Object, the Script, to the Scribe, and gave the rest to the Knight. This helped to balance their powers, and also, by separating the Script from the Time, made it necessary for both Guardians to agree that the plan was necessary.
****The Librarian chose the first Scribe and Knight, and each Scribe and Knight chose their own successors. After that, the Librarian left the Island in their care, and no one has seen him since.
****With the use of the Orb, the Knight arrived at the Mountain quickly. He looked into the Cave.
****A huge form stood in the middle of the Cave. It was almost as tall as the cave, towering at least 10 meters tall, and it had giant wings. Its hands and feet had sharp claws, and its head was shaped like an octopus, with a row of tendrils surrounding its mouth. It was facing out of the cave, looking directly at the Knight.
****“Hello again, Knight.” A man stepped out of the shadows of the Cave. “I’m surprised it took you so long to arrive. And I believe you’ve met my friend, Cthulhu?” The Monster let out a great roar.
****“You freed Cthulhu?” asked the Knight. “Why? Don’t you know that it will destroy the Island?”
****“I know all about Cthulhu and its powers,” answered the man. “That is why I have chosen to use it. You Guardians have held the Island captive for too long. It is time for a new protector. Tradition has made you Guardians appear as Kings, but you do not have the interests of the people at heart. You trap us here, on this Island, and you make us your servants. If you truly cared for the people, you would use your Objects to take us from this Island, not to keep us here.”
****“That is not true,” the Knight protested, but the man cut him off.
****“You have grown used to getting everything you want from us. You expect us to house you, to support you, to obey you. Why should we trust you? I am tired of being a blacksmith, making weapons for use against the Beasts. Why is the Great Tree so important? Perhaps we are better off without it. Let the Beasts tear it to shreds.”
****“You… are the blacksmith? How did you get here from the Village?”
****“I have powers that you would not comprehend. I have no need for the Gem or the Orb to alter the world around me. I have my own strength.”
****“That doesn’t matter. We aren’t holding you captive, we’re keeping you safe! We’re…”
****The blacksmith interrupted. “It does matter, Knight. You are taking our identity. Even this Island has no identity. It has no name. You make this Island nothing, you make us nothing. Well, I’ve had enough of this! It is time to destroy you Guardians and your Great Tree. With Cthulhu, I am going to take back our identity!”
****The blacksmith leaped onto Cthulhu’s back, and the Great Monster roared. The Knight drew his Weapon, the steel of the blade shining in the morning Sun.
****Before Cthulhu had a chance to unfold its wings, the Knight had unleashed the power of the Orb and was floating high in the sky. He made a dive for Cthulhu’s neck, but the Monster swatted him away.
****The Knight would never try to injure one of the Beasts, but Cthulhu was different. Cthulhu would not stop until the Knight was dead, so the Knight had to fight it with all his power. The Knight didn’t actually know if it was possible to kill the Great Monster; he had tried in the past, but was only able to put it to sleep and lock it away. He did know Cthulhu’s weakness. Since Cthulhu was a being of the water, the best way to destroy him would be to dry him out. Cthulhu hated fire.
****The Knight sent a huge blast of fire from the Orb, aiming it at Cthulhu’s feet, but the Monster was surprisingly agile and avoided the flames.
****Cthulhu countered with his own attack, slashing its massive claws at the Knight. The Knight managed to drop low enough to avoid the claws, but he was still knocked back by the Monster’s hand.
****The Knight managed to recover before he hit the ground, and he flew back towards Cthulhu. Raising his hand to the Light on his headband, the Knight exploded into a bust of light and appeared behind Cthulhu. He raised his staff and let some power out of the Gem embedded in it. Caught off guard, Cthulhu stumbled forward, but regained its balance and turned around. The Knight touched the Darkness on his headband and disappeared into the shadows.
****“You think that the Darkness can fool me?” shouted the blacksmith from the Monster’s back. He held up his hand and a sphere of light formed in it. He looked around the cave, and then he threw the sphere.
****The Knight didn’t have a chance to react. The sphere hit him and removed his veil of shadow. The blacksmith dropped off of the Monster and approached the Knight. He took the Weapon, and the Weapon changed, adjusting itself to the blacksmith’s preferences.
****“This is extremely well crafted,” said the blacksmith, pointing the Weapon at the Knight. “Very sharp. A perfect Weapon for the new ruler.” He lifted the blade and slashed it at the Knight.
****The Scribe waited in the Town. Everyone was gone. The Town looked completely unfamiliar in its deserted state. She leaned against the Great Tree. The Sun was rising in the sky, and the weather was nice. How could such a nice day bring such danger?
****She kicked at the dirt, drawing patterns with her feet. She drew a picture of the Mountain. She wondered if there was anything else she could do to help.
****After a few more minutes, she tired of drawing in the dirt. How are things going? she thought. No answer. That was odd. He always answered. Is something wrong? Still no answer. Maybe he’s busy fighting Cthulhu. If something had gone wrong, surely he would have said something.
****Satisfied with the Weapon, the blacksmith walked away. “Cthulhu,” he called out, “deal with him.” The Great Monster lifted its head and approached the Knight.
****The Knight wanted to respond to the Scribe, but he was busy looking for a way out. Strands of light created by the blacksmith were holding him in place. He couldn’t reach his Staff, he couldn’t touch his headband. He took a flute from his belt. In his fingers, it changed form, becoming a small string instrument.
****The Knight put the Music on the ground and pulled the thinnest string. It produced a high-pitched sound.
****Cthulhu recoiled, and the blacksmith cringed. The power holding the Knight in place weakened, and he broke through the strands. He picked up the Music, and the Music transformed back into the flute. He blew into it and another high-pitched sound broke through the air. He picked up the Staff and reached for his headband.
****A slimy arm grabbed him. One of Cthulhu’s tentacles was holding him back. He reached up with his other hand, but found that hand held down also. Another tendril reached for his neck and squeezed. The Knight couldn’t breathe. He tried to push Cthulhu away, but he couldn’t move. His vision began to fade, his lungs and neck burning with pain.
****She felt a sudden flash of pain and felt his presence in her mind. Now, he told her.
****The plan? she asked, a sense of dread growing in her.
****Now.
****The Scribe stood up. She unrolled the Script, drew a symbol. The plan’s symbol.
****She turned the Time, but the golden sand did not flow. It needed her permission to use its power. She hesitated for a moment, but she trusted the Knight’s judgment. She released the sand. She walked a few steps away from the Great Tree, and looked up. The Sun was shining bright above her.
****The Scribe threw the Time above the Great Tree, and time came to a halt.
Some italics may or may not be missing.
Maybe I should start posting as PDFs. Would less people read if I did that?
Probably, it's more convenient on here, even though the formatting may be worse.
I'd love to comment at some point but I'm feeling pretty sick right now and would like to just lie down (not because of the story, I think I caught it from my roommate). Maybe another time.
I'm feeling pretty sick right now and would like to just lie down (not because of the story, I think I caught it from my roommate).
Thanks for the clarification. Wouldn't want to think my story was infected or anything. ;D
Everyone in my residence hall is getting sick. It's only a matter of time for me. But when it comes, I'm prepared to fight.
Anyways, I think I need to do some more writing when I have spare time. Does anyone here know of any online short story contests coming up? Preferably ones where you can get feedback on stories.
Also, I think my storycrafting is beginning to infect my academic writing. In my latest English essay, I ended up inventing two (quite flat) characters to demonstrate my point. I should totally work on character development in later essays. HAHA /needtogetalife.