So that 'pretty peaceful - stay at home/be on call - week', I talked about in my last post didn't really end up going as expected and I have ended up working six days out of the last 7. That coupled with three days a week at the gym and time away from the house hasn't really made for the most productive environment...
Thankfully I'm no longer on call and I am itching to get some writing done so I should have something up within the next few days.
In the meantime I've been taking another look at the various writing competitions that are coming up that I would be eligible to enter.
This is what I have found so far:
Odyssey House Short Story Competition
1500 word short story exploring the theme "How did I find myself here" and making some reference to experiences either with drugs or alcohol - may be difficult to pull of considering lack of experience with abuse of either... Still the website says that they only need to be mentioned in the story as opposed to being the main focus. Have a few ideas, will see where they go.
Submissions close 4th November.
Link
Australian Literature Review Monthly Competitions
Short story of between 1000 and 3000 words fitting the theme of the month entered - in November the theme is 'Murder', which I'm not really sure about, but it won't hurt to take a crack. Will need to do some thinking on this one.
Submissions close 20th November.
Link
The Writing Lab Facebook Competition
Bit of an odd one. At first I thought it said 420 word limit, but it's actually a 420 character limit... Still this one will be seen by the most amount of people - as it is on Facebook and the winner is decided by the number of likes (a fair system to be sure...). Though given the length and the possible exposure it seems silly not to enter.
Submissions close 31st December.
Link
Not a very big list so far, but I get the feeling that there aren't that many competitions run at the tail end of the year. Will keep checking and update with more as I find them, as well as having a look for international competitions as well as Australian ones.
Comments and story ideas welcome - always good to bounce ideas off someone.
Till the next one,
M.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Escape Velocity
Okay,
the other story that I've been working on lately (I believe I mentioned it last week) is taking a little longer than I expected. The plot is there, drafted out, and there are three or four different variations on the beginning sitting on my desktop... what I'm having with trouble with is deciding which one works best - the idea was to retell the story of an illegal immigrant (a child with his family - mother & brother) coming into Australia. Just having trouble combining the innocent/ignorant experience of the child with the seriousness of the topic. I am muddling through, but I want it to be good so I'm going to wait until it clicks.
Other than that things are pretty much the same where I am - though I am getting more writing in. The PDQ that I talked about last post is up and running properly and my character got in. So far the writing and the story are a little all over the place, both in terms of quality and coherency (we have yet to establish a pecking order and so for the moment everyone is doing everything at once - which, coupled with the differing levels of writing ability makes the whole thing a bit messy). I finding it stimulating however and it has been a good way to ease my way back into writing stuff semi-regularly and hopefully it will get better as it goes along.
On top of that I have managed to get another short story done which I will put up at the end of this post. Bear with me though. Have gone back to SF for a bit - but it is part of something that I have been thinking of doing for a while - one of several stories that show different interpretations of a single event.
Obviously this is the first. There will be more. As well as my immigrant story once it is ready/done and the stock broker when I get back to that. Have a pretty peaceful - stay at home/be on call - week ahead of me so looking to get plenty of reading and writing in.
Anywho, story:
Escape Velocity I
Trapped. Hurt. Alone.
The floor is littered with empty syrettes, stained red... used up. A hand (mine?) reaches for the box. It is heavier now, there is less in it. Only three now. Not enough. The splinter of pain returns, somewhere in my arm. Leaking red (why won't it stop?). The third last slides in easy. Brings warmth.
Two left.
I pop a stim (pill. Plenty of those left) and the world sharpens somewhat; grows bigger. Five feet by five by eight. Standard ceramic white, smeared in blood. Mine. Every now and then the lights flicker. Running out of power? Damaged? Don't know. Red fingers too slick on display to find out; wont dry, even on glass.
Pod gives a low hum. Cold air rushes in; took longer this time, lasts for less. Running out of air. Red splattered everywhere. Seeping out. Wont clot. Running out of blood. Running out of time.
Time passes. Pain returns (shit. Fuck. Getting worse. Syrettes supposed to last hours. Supposed to help clot. Help heal. Doing none of those things). Push in another; nothing else to do. Hardly feel it. I eye the last one anyway and ask the question: Would it be enough if I took it now? Enough to bump me over the edge? Military syrettes. Supposed to be strong... Should be dead already.
One left.
Good hand pulls back slide on pistol. Hundredth time. Still empty. Still useless. Still cant throw it away. Thinking is getting harder, like sifting through sand, or thick mud. Slips through fingers. Hard to keep track. The lights dim. It gets darker and the blood seeps out of the hole in my arm. Still wont clot.
Pain again. Syrette number three goes in. Fingers clumsy. Numb. Pins and needles everywhere. Feel sleepy but don't seem to die. Damn... have to think. Start to panic. Syrettes all gone. Same with bullets. Never had any to begin with. Can't overdose on stims... Crack the door?
A red lever sits behind a panel of glass designed to be shattered. Yellow and black stripes signal a warning, further explained by blurry scrawl of letters too small to see. Can only read those above, big and bold:
E.V. 19. Jötunn. New Helsinki.
Empty words, meaningless now. The Jötunn is dead, others scattered. Probably also dead.
Might be all that's left. Little me in a little box, trying to find the easiest way out.
Take more stims. Take most of them. Try to pull myself up. Bad arm fights like dead weight. Unmoving. Still bleeding dark red. I drag it with me. It hurts... God it hurts.
Fall twice in five feet. Pull my self back up, leave more red smears on stainless white. Good arm shoulders the glass. Once. Nothing. Twice. Cracks. Three... It shatters in a puff of safety glass. The pod beeps again. One last breathe. I pull the lever.
The bolts inside the door 'pop' and then cold nothing rushes in as the air rushes out.
I breathe the nothing in. Remember the old warnings.
9 Seconds left.
9 seconds. That's how long it's supposed to take.
8.
Pressure equalises. More 'pops'. The door falls away.
7.
The drive fails, the lights go dark. Blood shines in the darkness. Snap frozen. Floating.
6.
I push out, craving... space. The cold is shocking. Wakes me up more than the stims.
5.
Outside is endlessly dark and empty but all of me is bright. My hands. All that I can see glows.
4.
Down below (up?) I can see the Jötunn burn. Still alive but venting gasses, atmosphere. Burning.
3.
The other ship spits fire across her bow, breaking her back. Still she hurtles towards the gate. Towards home.
2.
Jötunn impacts. The gate spins down. Shatters. Implodes.
The light is blinding. Pure. White.
1.
Darkness.
Obviously falling back on the whole short sharp sentences things here, though I was hoping it would reflect the characters state of mind.
Have ideas planned out at least three other perspectives though so will try and alter style for each.
Other than that, can only build back up slowly.
Until the next one,
M.
the other story that I've been working on lately (I believe I mentioned it last week) is taking a little longer than I expected. The plot is there, drafted out, and there are three or four different variations on the beginning sitting on my desktop... what I'm having with trouble with is deciding which one works best - the idea was to retell the story of an illegal immigrant (a child with his family - mother & brother) coming into Australia. Just having trouble combining the innocent/ignorant experience of the child with the seriousness of the topic. I am muddling through, but I want it to be good so I'm going to wait until it clicks.
Other than that things are pretty much the same where I am - though I am getting more writing in. The PDQ that I talked about last post is up and running properly and my character got in. So far the writing and the story are a little all over the place, both in terms of quality and coherency (we have yet to establish a pecking order and so for the moment everyone is doing everything at once - which, coupled with the differing levels of writing ability makes the whole thing a bit messy). I finding it stimulating however and it has been a good way to ease my way back into writing stuff semi-regularly and hopefully it will get better as it goes along.
On top of that I have managed to get another short story done which I will put up at the end of this post. Bear with me though. Have gone back to SF for a bit - but it is part of something that I have been thinking of doing for a while - one of several stories that show different interpretations of a single event.
Obviously this is the first. There will be more. As well as my immigrant story once it is ready/done and the stock broker when I get back to that. Have a pretty peaceful - stay at home/be on call - week ahead of me so looking to get plenty of reading and writing in.
Anywho, story:
Escape Velocity I
Trapped. Hurt. Alone.
The floor is littered with empty syrettes, stained red... used up. A hand (mine?) reaches for the box. It is heavier now, there is less in it. Only three now. Not enough. The splinter of pain returns, somewhere in my arm. Leaking red (why won't it stop?). The third last slides in easy. Brings warmth.
Two left.
I pop a stim (pill. Plenty of those left) and the world sharpens somewhat; grows bigger. Five feet by five by eight. Standard ceramic white, smeared in blood. Mine. Every now and then the lights flicker. Running out of power? Damaged? Don't know. Red fingers too slick on display to find out; wont dry, even on glass.
Pod gives a low hum. Cold air rushes in; took longer this time, lasts for less. Running out of air. Red splattered everywhere. Seeping out. Wont clot. Running out of blood. Running out of time.
Time passes. Pain returns (shit. Fuck. Getting worse. Syrettes supposed to last hours. Supposed to help clot. Help heal. Doing none of those things). Push in another; nothing else to do. Hardly feel it. I eye the last one anyway and ask the question: Would it be enough if I took it now? Enough to bump me over the edge? Military syrettes. Supposed to be strong... Should be dead already.
One left.
Good hand pulls back slide on pistol. Hundredth time. Still empty. Still useless. Still cant throw it away. Thinking is getting harder, like sifting through sand, or thick mud. Slips through fingers. Hard to keep track. The lights dim. It gets darker and the blood seeps out of the hole in my arm. Still wont clot.
Pain again. Syrette number three goes in. Fingers clumsy. Numb. Pins and needles everywhere. Feel sleepy but don't seem to die. Damn... have to think. Start to panic. Syrettes all gone. Same with bullets. Never had any to begin with. Can't overdose on stims... Crack the door?
A red lever sits behind a panel of glass designed to be shattered. Yellow and black stripes signal a warning, further explained by blurry scrawl of letters too small to see. Can only read those above, big and bold:
E.V. 19. Jötunn. New Helsinki.
Empty words, meaningless now. The Jötunn is dead, others scattered. Probably also dead.
Might be all that's left. Little me in a little box, trying to find the easiest way out.
Take more stims. Take most of them. Try to pull myself up. Bad arm fights like dead weight. Unmoving. Still bleeding dark red. I drag it with me. It hurts... God it hurts.
Fall twice in five feet. Pull my self back up, leave more red smears on stainless white. Good arm shoulders the glass. Once. Nothing. Twice. Cracks. Three... It shatters in a puff of safety glass. The pod beeps again. One last breathe. I pull the lever.
The bolts inside the door 'pop' and then cold nothing rushes in as the air rushes out.
I breathe the nothing in. Remember the old warnings.
9 Seconds left.
9 seconds. That's how long it's supposed to take.
8.
Pressure equalises. More 'pops'. The door falls away.
7.
The drive fails, the lights go dark. Blood shines in the darkness. Snap frozen. Floating.
6.
I push out, craving... space. The cold is shocking. Wakes me up more than the stims.
5.
Outside is endlessly dark and empty but all of me is bright. My hands. All that I can see glows.
4.
Down below (up?) I can see the Jötunn burn. Still alive but venting gasses, atmosphere. Burning.
3.
The other ship spits fire across her bow, breaking her back. Still she hurtles towards the gate. Towards home.
2.
Jötunn impacts. The gate spins down. Shatters. Implodes.
The light is blinding. Pure. White.
1.
Darkness.
Obviously falling back on the whole short sharp sentences things here, though I was hoping it would reflect the characters state of mind.
Have ideas planned out at least three other perspectives though so will try and alter style for each.
Other than that, can only build back up slowly.
Until the next one,
M.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)