Flash Stories & Poetry Day 31: Mystery/Fantasy Crossover "Detective Jykk"

 

Hey, everyone.

Sorry this is coming out so late in the day. My uncle came over early today and stayed for three hours and then I needed to work out and then there was dinner and several other distractions. Anyway, I'm here to work now. Also, I'm thinking about launching my career as a poet. What does that mean? Well, if you need a poem written, think about hitting me up. Just leave a comment on this post for now. Eventually, I'll start taking inquiries through my email. I just need to iron out the details. Anyway...

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's genre is... Crossover!

What's a crossover? Well, "crossover" is typically a word used in the fan-fiction scene to denote a piece of work that crosses over two or more fandoms. Here, I mean to use it as a method of writing something that had two different genres in it. For instance, Star Wars is actually a sci-fi fantasy crossover and Stephen King's The Gunslinger is a western fantasy crossover.

Problem is, I don't know which two genres to use. So, I'll spin the wheel of genres two more times to get my crossover. First genre is Mystery, and the second is Fantasy. So, a detective story with magic and junk. Alright, let's see what I can come up with.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

Detective Jykk kneeled over the body. He touched the victim's face and said a small incantation. The immediate aura of the spell turned a light blue; the victim had only been dead for a few hours, but it was already stone cold. He lifted the victim's arm to see if he could determine the cause of death, and there stuck in the body's chest was a knife. Jykk moved his hand near the knife and it crackled with purple electricity--he wouldn't be touching that knife until CSI arrived and used the proper disarming charm on it. But there was a bit of luck. Jykk thought that if the murderer had slipped up and used their bare hands to drive in the knife, there might be traces of DNA, or better yet, a magical trace.

Jykk wiggled his fingers and spoke a slow enchantment. Yellow sparkles materialized in the air and shot down to the ground to form a set of footprints. One foot was slightly ahead of the other and had its heel lifted. The attacker had stepped forward to violently drive the knife through the vic's chest, or maybe the attacker had been of a smaller stature. Jykk wiggled his fingers more and blew on the footprints. A trail of gold footprints manifested on the ground. Before following them, the detective cast a quick sealing spell on the body and area to cordon it off.

Jykk trotted after the trail out of the alley. Every so many yards he had to wiggle his fingers and blow again, but the bigger problem was that the footprints were fading fast. Whoever the attacker was, they must have known they might leave a magic trace and did their best to disrupt it.

The trail eventually went cold down another alley. Jykk quickly cast a reveal charm, but no one other than rats were in the alleyway. Before the footprints could disappear, Jykk turned and traced their outline with a bit of chalk. Maybe they could analyze the tracks and get a rough idea on the height and gender of the suspect from the size of the feet and the size of their gait. The detective then started inspecting the alley. He looked for anything suspicious: trap doors, stalls or dumpsters that looked out of place, and even scraps of clothing that might have been torn off the suspect's clothing. None of these were found, but the detective did do a quick scan and found some fingerprints. In order to take a proper sample, he'd have to wait for CSI with a kit, but Jykk went ahead and made a crystalline imprint of the fingerprints. He dropped them into his hand and examined them.

The fingers weren't very long, but they were slender. A slight mark beyond the finger pad seemed to suggest long, well-manicured nails. Jykk went back tot he footprints he traced and found the step of the perpetrator to be shorter and narrower than his own. It seemed likely he was after a woman. Jykk wrapped the crystalline prints a in cloth and pocketed them. He then waved his hand through the air and inhaled deeply. A subtle, violet mist filled the air. The scent of a perfume and pheromones were both magnetized dozens of times. Jykk almost got high off the smell and almost forgot that he was looking for a crook; the more primitive parts of his brain and body had responded immediately.

Jykk covered his nose with a handkerchief and walked back down through the alley. He watched the violet mist to see how it congregated in the air and followed the thickest part of its trail. It led him to a spot next to a dumpster inhabited by a box that looked to be about three feet. Trying to seem disinterested, he went to pass it up, but a fierce scream and an explosion of pheromones wouldn't let him. Within a split second, the suspect, a nimble, slender woman, hooded and cloaked, jumped from the box and attack him, a dagger forming in her hand.

Jykk quick-stepped out of the way and drew his piece. One snap of the trigger and the dagger popped out of the woman's hand, but she kept coming at him, now with fingernails that were magically enhanced. Jykk juked and jived out of the way. The woman took too enthusiastic of a step toward him and ended up passing him. Jykk danced behind her and delivered a forceful blow to the back of her skull with his piece. The woman fell unconscious immediately and hit the ground with a thud and a flutter.

"Now, then," said Jykk. "Let's see who you are." He bound her hands with a spell, and then pulled back her hood. He gasped.

***

 

Alright, stop the clock! Yes, I know I ended at the good part. That was sort of the point so you can complete the story yourselves. That, and it would've forced me to come up with another name, but I've got a headache right now. I'm really tired. I've gotten used to taking naps in the evening because my sleep schedule is so messed up. But anyway, I have 4:20 left (blaze it!), but that was fun. I actually really enjoyed writing the detective parts. It responded to my very technical side and my need to over explain everything. Maybe I should write a real detective story. 

 

But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

How to Spot an INTJ at School

Hey, everyone.

So, I had my high school reunion about a week and a half ago, and while a part of me wants to say it was great seeing the old gang, another part of me wants to say it wasn't. I unfortunately didn't get to see the people I really wanted to because they weren't there and I had a plan for the evening that due to the way things went, I couldn't execute. I thought I was going to leave an impression on people, show them that there was more to me than what they saw in high school, but that didn't happen. To some extent, it felt like being back at high school all over again.

Which reminds me, I know I've commented before that I thought I was an ISTJ in the past, but by reliving my past for a single night, I think I now have evidence to prove that I was an INTJ earlier in my life than I thought which has prompted me to write a guide on how to spot an INTJ at school. And this should work for any age INTJ, hopefully. However, fair warning, I don't think this particular piece is written all that well.

1. The Silent Revolutionary

INTJs aren't exactly known for their rebellious attitudes, but they are known for acting unilaterally when it suits them or if a rule seems superfluous. If your school has a lot of rules and loves to enforce them, look through those rules and see if you can spot any that just seem to go a little too far. For instance, when I attended my second high school, Bishop Foley, it was a private school and the dress code was really picky and stringent in some ways, and really lax in others. That said, we had to have our sleeves rolled down. I actually wasn't keen on Foley at the time, so every day for two years, I had my sleeves rolled up a little. Yes, it was small and likely went unnoticed by many, but it was a rule I broke. And it wasn't the typical dress code rule you see broken, like not having your shirt tucked in or having a weird haircut. That's something to keep in mind when you look for the silent revolutionary: seek out the one who breaks a rule that others don't, or who breaks it in a way that many would not have thought of.

2. Going Against the Grain

What's popular in the school you're looking at? Is there a movement, song, music genre, or a type of "energy" that is taking the student body by storm? Well, if you want to pick out the INTJ, just look for the one kid who is wholly unaffected by the (new) sensation. Or, say there's an opportunity for the kids at school to ditch their uniforms for some other outfit that isn't daily wear.

Example: at Foley, there were times when we were allowed to ditch the uniform, but we had to follow specific rules on what we could wear in order to ditch it. One time, we were allowed to come to school in Detroit Tigers swag, and another we could come to school in costume for Halloween. Well, being an INTJ, I have no interest in team sports and the uniform wasn't so unbearable that I would rather go to school dressed like a buffoon, so both days I wore my uniform. Course though, on Halloween a girl made fun of me for doing so, and I made fun of her right back for dressing up. So, if you want to pin point that INTJ, just look at that one kid who isn't following the crowd.

3. Value Hard Work Even When Worthless

It isn't uncommon for busy work to sometimes be assigned at school. It's extremely unfortunate especially if people are paying for their children to attend the school, so once in a while, a teacher will run into a student or two who are able to pick up on the latest "scam." I had a friend O'Meara who just copied the answers to the busy work-style homework from another classmate every day. But one day, that other classmate just went ahead and did the homework for him, using her other hand to write with so it looked sloppy (like O'Meara's). The teacher looked at the homework assignment, paused, shook her head, but then proceeded to check it off anyway.

Now, this is something you'll never see an INTJ do. Regardless of how small or pointless the assignment, we're likely to put all of our beings into it even if we know it's busy work. Why? Because it's part of our code. We have a sense of justice and are slaves to it, especially where effort and duty are concerned. Plus, we wouldn't want to take the risk on getting busted for copying or cheating. And, if the other person should get something wrong, it would ruffle our jimmies to also get it wrong just because we were cheating. I can remember doing many homework assignments to the nth degree because I thought there was something in it for me and not letting any one cheat off me. I still take academic honesty very seriously these days.

4. Aversion to Group Projects

INTJs are extremely individualistic and hate relying on others for anything. Even if a project is labor intensive and takes at least four people to complete, an INTJ would rather fulfill the duties of all four people than depend on the others to do their jobs right. I can remember some of my teachers telling us to partner up, and everyone else in the class being like "Yeah!" while I was groaning. Partially because I hated doing it and partially because I could never get the partner I wanted. (More on this in point 5.)

There was one class I had, Marriage and Parenting, where partnering up happened often. Toward the end of the semester, I didn't bother to partner up one day, either because there weren't enough people or my teacher made the concession that we didn't need to, so I didn't. I worked alone and it was bliss. After that one time, I continued to work alone and my teacher never said anything to me, so I secured the course and I thought to myself, "Damn! I should've tried this earlier." Group and partner projects are rubbish.

5. Lone Wolf

INTJs may have friends, and it is possible that they could learn to appreciate some of the people in their class--I know I did--but even after learning that appreciation and even after having my own circle of friends, I was still a huge loner. It wasn't uncommon for me to get "cut out" by my "friends" or even by people who I thought had accepted me into their group. I was once cut out of the fake band I had helped to form just because I didn't seem to fit the mold. So, once in a while, I was alone. Hell, even to today. I often don't hear about things that happen to my friends until six months after the fact.

A better example of my lone wolfishness is this: one time I was having a conversation with my friend Babecki over Instant Messenger and I had had some concerns over who he was hanging out with, not because I thought they were bad influences on him but because I was concerned how many friends he had, or something weird like that. Why was it my business? I don't remember, I may have been concerned about the integrity of our little group and I didn't want "untouchables" having access to it. So, he explained to me how he has many circles of friends and that not all of them were as close to him as others were. For whatever reason, this blew me away. I had no idea you could be at different levels of friends with people or have different circles. Course though, considering the only friends I ever had came from school at that time, it wasn't surprising for me to think like that.

Basically me. Either back then or now.

6. Otherworldly

Until they get to college, students for the most part seem very worldly or caught up in the moment. They tend to live in and for the moment. They're very real, in a sense. INTJs don't have this quality; they're otherworldly. What's going on in the mundane world around them doesn't interest them, so they tend to have the personality of a ghost or a mystic. They're not very lively, and they always seem bored or annoyed that they're forced to live through such a mundane experience or alongside mere mortals. Their minds are elsewhere and the concepts going through their minds aren't the sort of things you'd usually find in a teenager's head. They're disconnected from their peers, and they almost carry themselves like one of the teachers. I know, because I had people, students and teachers alike, who thought I was on a different level in many ways. Someone even wrote so in my yearbook. So, another way to find the INTJ is to look out for that kid who "looks" like he's somewhere else despite his very stimulating surroundings.

Alright, you guys. That's all I have for this week. I know it wasn't much, and I know it isn't like me to make such a mundane post, but this was something that was on my mind and floating around my head since my reunion. I truly do think now I was an INTJ in high school. It would explain some things and feelings I had forgotten. Anyway, don't feel too dissatisfied with this post as I plan on writing more INTJ posts per week from now on. My INTJ posts are usually very popular so I'm going to try to capitalize on them in terms of views, ads, and helping me to write my book The INTJ Mystique. So, that's it for this week.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 30: Reflection "The True Meaning of Christmas"

 

Hey, everyone.

Well, today's a non-fiction day, so let's see what the wheel of genres has cracking for me today.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!




Today's topic is... Reflection! Now, that's interesting.

For the past half a week, I've had many things go through my head, but they were all very religious. This doesn't mean that I'm not going to write about them, I'm just not going to write about them here in Flash Stories & Poetry. I do intend on getting more religious with some of my posts on my blog, but not through this channel. However, having said that, there is a religious/secular reflection I can do today, something that I've thought about a bit since December started: The True Meaning of Christmas.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

This is something we hear about every year at this time: the true meaning of Christmas. We are often told that Christ is the reason for the season, but what does that really mean? Is it just coincidence, careful Church planning to cover up an old pagan holiday, or does it go much deeper than that?

Once upon a time, two Baptists came to my house, advocating the opening of their new church which is funny because they said their message wasn't about churches, but a relationship with Christ. When my sister let the cat out of the bag that we were Catholic, the one, old guy who had been silent up until that point asked her if she understood the meaning of John 3:16. For those who don't know, John 3:16 is "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life."

Now, this question confused the dickens out of me and still does. At the time, I hadn't committed John 3:16 to memory, but I was definitely familiar with the passage. But what this question has to do with us being Catholic versus what those two old, Baptist farts were getting at, I have no idea. One of the things Catholics are often criticized for is not knowing their religion, but even if my sister and I didn't understand our faith, I don't understand how John 3:16 would have offered us any guidance.

But is John 3:16 relevant to the true meaning of Christmas? Well, perhaps; God gave us his Son so that we could all be saved, that is to say, live forever rather than die forever. Does this mean then that the true meaning of Christmas is a giving of one's self to the totality of another out of love? Perhaps, although I would argue that that would be the meaning of Easter, but Easter really is more of the celebration of God's consummate victory over evil and the opening of Heaven for us. (But is that so different from Christmas? Perhaps they both carry the same meaning.) So, perhaps the true meaning of Christmas is the celebration of such a deep and divine love that it translates into everyone's personal salvation, meaning that we are to give of ourselves so deeply that we would also send ourselves through Hell for the rest of world?

Maybe. One of the problems here is the temptation to overthink and overcomplicate the issue. Perhaps it is more of a reminder that we shouldn't get caught up in the commercialism side of the holiday, and remember that the tradition of giving and receiving gifts isn't what it's all about, but rather the gifting of ourselves to each other. The gifts are only there to be symbols of our love for one another. I tell you, as one who doesn't have a lot of money this year and is worried about having enough money for gifts for those on my list, this sort of reflection does bring me some solace in that it reminds me not to focus on how much I spend for those I care about, but rather the thought I put into what I get them.

Hmm, unfortunately, I'm not sure what else I can say about this as I worry that if I analyze it any further, I'm going to either be beating a dead horse or end up losing the plot. So, rather than do that, perhaps it is enough that my mind knows what the true meaning of Christmas is, and for now I must let my heart and spirit process and internalize it so that I may carry the spirit of the season all throughout the year.

***
 

Okay, that only took about twenty minutes. I apologize for writing so short a piece, but I got reflection and this is one of those things that was on my mind. To some extent, I'm worried that this is so "Duh!" worthy, not many people will get any use out of it. I don't want to write about things that people already know about, but perhaps some people need the reminder.

 

But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 29: Ballad "The Great Sojourn of Talianus"

 

Hey, everyone.

So, I have nothing funny or clever to say here. Let's just get to the poetry.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!







Today's topic is... Ballad. To be honest, did say lyric first, but I couldn't remember what I did for lyrics. I know I did something about a month ago for them, I can't remember what it was. However, then I remembered a little project I'm doing for Heroes of Majestia that I haven't worked on in quite a while. I actually don't suppose I'll get it out until next year, but I would like to work on it. So, this shall be the first part of The Great Sojourn of Talianus.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

Before he became a myth, a legend, a king, and a man,
Talianus was like the rest and began his quest like a lad;
Small was he with a great mane of red hair ere his tale began,
Desiring to be a hero, out he went in tatters clad.

He spoke real big about all the things he was going to do,
And about all the monsters and villains he would crush;
All the treasures he would steal and all the demons he would hew,
And whenever he would come around, all the maidens should blush.

Into the wilds he went, not knowing the legacy he would leave,
And how much the temples and priests he would grieve;
But near a pond outside his village, his first brush with death would come,
And to the charms of a long kelpie he would succumb.

As he tried to tame the beast to be his mount,
He had not the beast's mien taken into account;
Wherefore would such a rare horse meander to pond so calm,
Lest it meant to entrap wanderer and dash into black somme?

Trapped in its mane was he, unable to get free,
That monster tread the water with such glee and wouldn't hear his plea;
Alas, with a great rock, did he revenge himself with,
And he shattered that kelpie's head forthwith.

***

 

Okay, stop the clock. Well, that was rough. It took me most of my half hour and I only got five stanzas. Sorry; I was dragging ass all throughout and I had no idea what I was doing. This is a POS poem, if I'm honest. But, I think it will be all right as a base. It needs a lot of reworking and there are some parts where I can feel the legend isn't so legendary, but this poem helped to point out where those weak spots were. I wouldn't know where those weak spots are if I hadn't written this one. Maybe I should also read a few hero legends to get an idea of what the hell I should be doing.

 

But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 28: Horror Legend "The Journal"

 

Hey, everyone.

So, I'm not sure how in the world I'm going to write a short story about writing for a third time. I might say screw it and just write a regular short story. Writing about writing is only really fun with poetry and non-fiction. It's sort of difficult with fiction. So, let's see then.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!






Today's topic is... well, to be honest, I spun it multiple times because I wasn't satisfied with what I got. First I got legend, then horror, then mystery, and finally fairy tale. I do have a story idea that is about writing for horror/mystery, but it's more of a novel idea and I don't want to give it away here. Or, maybe what I could do is write a horror-mystery-legend and make it the prequel for my novel. That would be fun. Let's do it.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

A long time ago, there once was a man. He lived in a mansion on top of a hill. Those who saw him thought he was a most peculiar man. Whenever they saw him, he would be bent over, muttering curses under his breath. He always eyed everyone in the world with an eye of suspicion and hate. No one knew why, but he loathed the world and everything in it.

But the most peculiar thing about this man was that he always carried with him a leather bound journal. As he walked the world, he would be bent over his journal and constantly scribbling in it. Every day he filled those pages with his demented, wrathful thoughts. They seemed to fill the journal from cover to cover. But what was most alarming was that every day he filled the journal from cover to cover. Monday, cover to cover; Tuesday, cover to cover; Wednesday, cover to cover; the whole week, month, year long.

Some thought that perhaps he had more than one, but where he got them from no one knew; no one ever saw him buy anything. And yet, every day he had a journal filled with curses and malcontent thoughts. Some thought it was the same journal every day, but how could that have been possible?

Those who claimed it was the same journal said the journal was bewitched and that every day, the writing would be erased and the man would be forced to fill it again. But, there was another phenomenon that came to pass as the man continued to write. Every day he became a little bit meaner and a little bit older. Things that he didn't use to hate so much, he now abhorred, and though only a year had passed, he looked as if he had aged ten.

This led some people to believe that as he pored over the journal, he actually poured himself into it--his very life's essence was transported from his pen to the page and it became a part of the journal. For what point or purpose, no one knew, but they could see that the longer he wrote in the journal, the more embittered and older he became.

Then, one day, he no longer came around. For several days, no one said anything for they hadn't noticed his sentimental poison permeating the air. When someone did ask, no one answered. It took several more times and several more times after that for the question to be asked before someone finally gave the answer, "I don't know."

They went to his house on the hill and broke in. It was a cavernous, Gothic mansion, as bleak and as dark as him. They searched the whole house but found so sign of him. What they did find though sent shivers down their spine. While looking in his bed chambers, they found a skeleton, sitting at a desk, and beneath its hand was the leather bound journal--its pages were completely blank.

Haunted by the thought of what this could mean, they hastily dropped the skeleton into a trunk and moved it into the cellar. One paranoid fellow put a padlock on it for fear something might escape. As for the journal, it was lost in the shuffle, but some say it's still up there, hiding in the mansion somewhere.

***

 

Stop the clock! Okay, that's almost eleven minutes left. I know, I still have plenty of time, but I don't know how to make this longer and I'm getting sleepy. Which isn't good because I have Christmas cookies to bake. So, I was sort of rushing the story. Not everything is written as well in this piece as I would like it. For this week, I don't think I'm going to do a theme, but with Christmas coming, you can expect a lot of Christmas related posts. Maybe I'll write my own carol.

 

But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 27: Creative Non-fiction "How I Finished My Book"

 

Hey, everyone.

So, today is a non-fiction day, and it was originally my intention to take my last non-fiction piece and split it into two parts. You know, the story about how I decided to become a writer. So, then, I was like, "Crap. What do I do now?" Well, seeing as how there are so many sites out there that talk about helping people finish their books, I thought I might take a whack at it and tell you all how it was that I managed to finish my first book Remnants of Chaos: Chaotic Omens. Buy it here. So, let's giddy up!

Today's topic is... Creative Non-fiction.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

I originally started writing Remnants of Chaos: Chaotic Omens in December 2007. I was inspired by a mixture of music from the band Nightwish and the video game series Devil May Cry. I had a vision for a story about demon slayers in a gothic setting with over-the-top action. It would be my first real try at writing a book. So, I went ahead and did some research on character names and came up with Azrael Chaos and Nissa Omen, I bastardized some Latin to make a monastic order, the Maleiorcum, and I was away. Problem is, a few weeks later I was done in by a crappy floppy disk. And it was right after I had written a spectacular scene, too.

I halted progress on the book for a year and three months. During that time, I did a lot of thinking about the book, the characters, the plot, and everything else. Finally, in about March or April of 2009, I twisted my parents' arm to buy me a high school graduation present, which I should have received two years earlier, and I got a laptop. A brand new Dell Inspiron 1545 with a red top, and it was beautiful. Definitely better than the HP POS I'm writing on now. I nicknamed it the Red Queen after Nero's sword from Devil May Cry 4, and not the CPU from Resident Evil. A few days later, I had downloaded some songs from my friend Alysa, and I re-wrote the first chapter of ROCCO in a single sitting all to Michael Jackson's "Thriller." I then named the chapter "Ballroom Blitz" after The Sweet's song.

From there, I soldiered on. I shared parts of it with my friend Mary and with the members of my Youth Group, but I wasn't using an outline, and predictably, I stopped working on it. A year or two later, I was terribly bored one summer and as a result, depressed. Out of desperation, I turned back to ROCCO and taking inspiration from my recent stint with Unisoft's Assassin's Creed series, I aimed the book in the direction of Italy and introduced a character based off myself who resembled a member of the Assassin Order. And so I made more progress, and I beat back my depression.

I don't remember what happened after that, but eventually, I found myself staring at my last year at Wayne State, 2014-2015. And due to my schedule, I had a huge three or four hour gap right in the middle of a couple of days. Well, I wasn't going to go home because I lived too far, so I had to use my time wisely and I decided to spend that time writing ROCCO. It's strange, because I can remember writing ROCCO at Wayne's library, but also working on lines from the final scene at the job I had the summer before. I can remember spending the night at the Grosse Pointe Hunt Club, watching over millions of dollars in horses, and writing lines for ROCCO by hand in the wee hours of the morning. So maybe I did some writing for ROCCO the year before actually, the school year of 2013-2014. That doesn't matter. So then, what does?

Well, I managed to finish ROCCO around that time and I even submitted it to TOR publishing. They didn't want it. It's fine; my fault. I called it a dark fantasy when it's actually a Gothic Epic. But the point is, is that I didn't sign up for some webinar or for some online class in order to write and finish my book. I finished my book out of sheer determination and will. I forced myself to write even when I didn't want to. I didn't listen to anyone's fancy advice; I just saw a lot of time available to me and a way I could use it. I wanted to finish my book, so I did.

Now, it is true that since 2015, it has been uploaded to Inkitt and it has gone through multiple revisions. The original draft was 206K words; average novel length is 90K, 110K if you're writing a sci-fi or fantasy novel. So, in steps, I did manage to whittle it down to about 150K. But, I tell you, even to this day, even with it published on Amazon, I'm still making edits and corrections. There's one really big edit I have to make regarding its commas, but no one seems to have noticed it, so that issue is on the back burner, but it is something I'm going to have to address eventually.

But, like I said, the point is, is that I "finished" my novel under my own will power. It took me eight years, a buttload of editing after that, and even editing it now, but I finished it by myself with no support, no webinar, no master class. And here's the thing, so can you. You might think you need a subscription to a group or a mentor so you can stay on task, but you don't. You just need to make your own way. Think of it like this: if it's really that important to you, you'll get it done.

***

 

Stop the clock! Eight and a half minutes left. I think it's better I ended there than try to lengthen it. It does feel short, but I was starting to beat a dead horse toward the end there. But anyway, that's how I finished my book.

 

So, that's it for today. If you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below. Also, I reworked my Patreon page, so why not give it a look and consider becoming my patron. I would appreciate it.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar

Flash Stories & Poetry Day 26: Prayer "A Writer's Prayer"

 

Hey, everyone.

Sorry this is so late today. I really don't get much done on Friday and the weekend in general. I don't know why. It's just something that doesn't happen. So then, let's stop stalling and get this done.

Wheel of Genres, turn, turn, turn! Tell me the genre I will discern!





Today's topic is... Prayer!

Alright, I'll be honest; I got cinquain first, but I've already written at least one of them and they're super short. Plus, I think a prayer might go real well with the whole theme of the importance of needing to write earnestly. Other than that though, prayers are different in all sorts of ways, so when it comes to style here, I really am flying by the seat of my pants. But since this is a poetry day, perhaps I should make it rhyme.

Thirty minutes on the clock: 30:00. And... go!

By the Powers that Be, the Powers Seen and Unseen,
Grant unto me clarity of Mind and sobriety of Heart,
That I may tend to my work to perfect my Art.
Slay the Maleficarum that mean to do me Harm,
That block my Path and deprive me of Charm.

By the Powers that Be, the Powers Seen and Unseen,
Permit not my flaws to block my Way
So that I may make what I will of the Day;
Send unto me Revelations deep so I may make haste
To write the Opera chaste to wake the World from its Sleep.

For the Powers that Be, the Powers Seen and Unseen,
I give thanks in hearing my Request,
And for my Gifts which I am blessed,
Now I shall go compose my great Act,
And fulfill our venerable Pact.

***

Stop the clock! Two minutes and twenty seconds left. I know it isn't long, but that second stanza gave me issues. I still have issues with it, but I'm not sure how to fix them. If I had more time, I might be able to discover how, but right now... In general though, I think the prayer is pretty good, but I did end up using a lot of words I didn't want to use because they're too mundane. If I had the time, I could make this prayer off the hook.

 

And for those wondering, "maleficarum" means "witches", but it's derived from the two Latin words "malus" meaning "evil", and the past tense, I think, of the word "facere" meaning "to do". So the word literally translated means "evil doer". Have you ever hear of the Malleus Maleficarum, "The Hammer of Witches"? It was a Catholic treatise on how to deal with witchcraft in case you were curious. And, as I'm sure you can tell, I did mess about a little with the rhyming throughout this piece. I'm strangely okay with how that turned out.

 

But anyway, that's it for today. If you want to use the wheel I made, you should be able to access it here. And if you have the time, please check out my books for sale on Amazon which you can find through my author page. The link is below.

Keep writing, my friends.

More About Bryan C. Laesch:

My Works:

Amazon: My Author Page, My Influencer Page
Facebook: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar
Patreon: Bryan C. Laesch
Twitter: BryanofallTrade
Youtube: Bryan C. Laesch, Bawdy Scholar