Warm up, and Synopsis of three fictional works in progress
A caveman empath, an LGBT festival of fashion and cult theory, and a lazy Vampire hooked on the monthly blood of an functional-alcoholic Red Dragoness.
This warm up exercise is three parts:
The purpose of the short trips themselves
Showing the movements that get me aligned with my writing goal for the day.
A bit about what projects to expect in the future from me. Laying out groundwork, pounding in the stakes, and tying a few sight lines.
The release target for today
An introduction to three short stories that make up the core discoveries found in fiction writing itself within the novels I’m working out.
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The purpose…
While this is going to look a lot like writing about writing, and usually an immediate turn off, this is more than me going through the motions. These are a bit of the mental stretch routine it takes to get me warmed up. This one in particular is also a sneak peek at the bigger project I’m working on. Also, it’s a chance for me to make a few like minded friends along the way. Though I am alone at my keyboard, this project is hatching simultaneously all throughout society. My project is only merely one manifestation of a similar many, a thousand page droplet of rain. Give me fifteen minutes and hopefully you’ll recognize your part in this ultimately movement. Though my role is limited, it could be a catalyst for others, and therefore I have no choice but to push this out however possible, and hopefully retain the story’s integrity in the process.
Whether we become swept up in a deluge, or are joined as simply as two droplets that merge, the short trips I write are a part of the natural process. I hope you will subscribe to and find something of yourself in this.
The static interference is already tuning out. Time is short, I’m ready to share a synopsis of three stories interior to the novels I’m working on. They are creative portions written supposedly by the author protagonist. These will not be self help novels, but the plan is that most readers should finish with a thirst for redefined or newfound purpose from deeper within themselves. Clearly my writing needs more work, so here I am with two hands, an overly self-critical mind, and an entirely reachable goal that seems forever away. I’m going to run-on straight through the finish line, and then do it again and again until a smooth story flows through.
The words are already saturating the ground, rinsing away the mud, seeping through sand and limestone, and replenishing “our” community aquifer. Though my novel is of my own work, the wellspring from which I draw belongs to all of us. I mean to clear and improve the path to it, and make it visibly accessible. Enjoy my work if you will, fill your own bucket, take what you need, and be free to return any time.
I have writing in my nature, I hope to help even one other realize theirs.
The early release target for today
These three short stories make up the “core of discovery” within novels I’m working diligently on. They will take up a total of eleven chapters spread out over three books. Here I am reworking their synopsis without notes.
This off-the-cuff rendition of my stories help me simplify things, and have flashes of new inspiration. What I have for you today is a sampler, of seemingly separate stories that are themselves character developments within the protagonist “author”.
For the briefest context, the first book is about a kid who wants to be an author, the next about an adult who has been writing his entire life and found a practical and spiritual purpose in it. The third is about the same character, but written largely from a hypothetical 4th dimension perspective. The natural progression is from the first discovery of writing as an escape, to writing for personal development both professionally and as a head of household. This newest turn in storyline, this evolution, has become an ongoing series of recognition that now has me pushing harder than any self imposed deadline, fear of old age, or premature death ever has.
Suddenly spreading this message discovered in writing the third book has superseded the importance of even finishing the first two books. That’s problematic. The third must be released first, and yet, I can’t just skip the steps that have led me to where I am now. This has led to my atypical and possibly overly compressed release.
I understand my chances of getting a publishing deal may suffer for forcing this out without the necessary trim and polish that I expect of myself. Once this message has been adequately addressed, I will come back around again and again until I make it shine.
Now, onto the breakdown of the three short stories. If you’re reading this before I’ve published them at length, feel free to comment which you’d like to see first, or ask any questions.
If you have a better way for me to present my work, I’m all ears.
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The first of three is a caveman story, intended to be a high school senior’s creative writing project. The caveman protagonist is a failure when it comes to important tasks, hunting, gathering, fishing, and building. He is generally either the laughing stock, or the cautionary tale of the tribe. Before the end, his ability to help the youth of the tribe avoid common mistakes and perils, and to help find their talent gets ceremoniously recognized. He’s made an apprentice to the tribal shaman.
In moments of self doubt, and assuming his own impending exile, he had gone out to seek a safe shelter. On that search he discovered an overgrown entrance to an underground facility left by a previous yet more advanced civilization. He (the author) turns in his assignment with the classic question of what to do with information of such importance, having already achieved success and then finding information that could either improve life for everyone, or have him killed for apostasy.
Twenty years later, the author comes back with a solution to his caveman’s dilemma, and how he can utilize the discovery safely to maintain peace and improve living conditions for his tribe.
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The second story is much more controversial. This is a “FICTIONAL” story of an annual festival of “freedom of expression” something like an LGBT inclusive combination of Burning Man, Comicon, E3, but written in a dystopian context with elements similar to Animal Farm, Starbelly Sneetches, 1984, Hansel and Grettel, Rapunzel, Hunger Games, and others. There are a few easter eggs, barely hidden.
The party is on its 25th anniversary year, and is an online sensation and has become the future of Global Agendavising. It’s like a transhumanism WEF party for future activists, with Furzies, Obeasties, BDSM, body mods, tech, and sex.
It is the story of an unlikely pairing of a conspiracy theorist blogger who befriended a jilted ex-partygoer. They use implanted technology and change his identity to infiltrate and record the party. The plan is to use their rigged system to win their pageant, and then record the celebrity afterparty from which some of the most conspiratorial and salacious rumors have emerged.
The running online conspiracy is that a secret society is running this circus-like party for the sake of entertaining and changing low frequency individuals, splitting them from family, and degrading the parts of society that willingly accepts this self harm so as not to lose favor in the eyes of the ideologically captured. There is a heavy element of double speak, and aspects of Stockholm syndrome, and imposed conformity being sold as the height of fashion and individualism.
They infiltrate the party. The jilted partygoer is immediately accepted with his new identity, and by day two he drops his mission. Basically he provides a tour of all the attractions and party schedule, before going radio silent for the rest of the week. His outsider friend who is in a hotel room across the street can only keep track via the 24 hr CCTV posted to the party website, hoping the radio signal goes live again. The cameras are all throughout the party, and highlight reels are being posted regularly leading up to the pageant.
Our insider character becomes friends with an underdog pageant entry Furzy named TrashyPanda. On the last day TP has reservations about the celebrities and pageant, at which point he and our insider switch costumes. The pageant and the finale party are a blur. By the after party the CCTVs are off, but our insider is conscious enough to turn back on the implanted transmitter. The blogger catches the real TrashyPanda wearing his insider’s costume on the way out of the party. They sort out the confusions, and quickly return to his hotel room to listen to the afterparty.
This story ends with an unfortunate martyrdom, and a new partnership between the escaped TrashyPanda and our blogger. He gets his scoop story about the party, but then rather than trying to shut it down, they create a support group for people who have been wronged to let all of their voices be heard rather than one scandalous attack piece.
Furthermore, people just wish they could have their lost friends and families back.
This support group becomes a permanent judgment-free bridge where we can all meet, stand together, and know we’re important even to people who disagree with our life changes, or refusal/inability to evolve.
It may take generations, but breaking the cycle of abuse requires that we realize how real people are more important and actually less judgmental than activist groups would have you believe.
Within the book the story is then filed away so that the author can move on to write about other parts of his own inadequacy. Working through and overcoming personal and societal challenges yields more meaning in life than hoping for a lucky lotto ticket. Sharing good feelings is like sharing home cooked food with the hungry, though I am emotionally thin.
This leads to the third and final story overview I’m abbreviating today.
(Now, I have a concern that this is dense and wordy. I understand that publishers want things to flow, and I’m sorry, that’s just not how my brain works yet. Please understand with me that I am still working within my writers cocoon, and that I know that there are others like me out there who digest this kind of material just fine. Like wood for termites, milkweed for monarchs, or cheeseburgers for fatties like me, I’m going to keep working on this, building my pretend colony, preparing for my imaginary journey, and consuming for my impending heart attack. Whichever it is, my time is short, and my process is working)
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At last we come to a third story, Undying Love. We have another unlikely pairing, this time of a lazy vampire addicted to the monthly blood of his highly-functional alcoholic red dragon partner.
This story again needs at least the briefest bit of context, and though it needs the most work, I’m releasing it prematurely because it’s now the engine pulling all the previous work together. Forcing it out here in as solid#2, we’ll have to see how it takes shape, and clean it up nice and tidy. There will be two chapters in the second book, and three in the third. Beginning with a recently turned vampire who had been a hobbyist writer and professional barfly. Though he had dreams of being published before, he pretty much gave up once he became basically timeless and well, stopped dreaming. That all changes when spousal difficulties get out of control with his life partner, a Red Dragon.
The first chapter is actually in homage to Choose Your Own Adventure novels right in the middle of a “normal” book. The vampire who has been living an un-life of indulgence finds a drunken dragon at the beach drum circle and fire dance. She inspires something in him to improve the quality of his existence, and so he seeks her out. They relate on many issues, and find shared value in each other as bilateral support.
No longer a CYOA, fast forward a few hundred years, and there have been numerous calamities and breaches of trust. She’s occasionally out of control, and he’s trapped in his same old downward spiral that she hadn’t understood was a part of him. They inspire negative behavior in one another, and enable each other’s self-destructive behavior to cope with the fact that neither of them is getting what they expected from their union. The dragon is being overworked and becoming increasingly unstable. The vampire is getting fat and listless, living more like a scavenger than a hunter. The chapter is an actual brewing tempest conditionally manifested by their internal battle. It threatens to destroy them and the small island society over which they have come to lord.
In order to solve the problems between himself and the dragon lady, he had gone back to his solitary writing as a means for problem solving. The act of writing has also taken on a more supernatural aspect since becoming a vampire, yet he hasn’t much explored his newfound talent. Instead he is using his connection to draw up a compromise, a treaty of sorts to be stamped in their blood.
He brings peace to the land, and he sees that no characteristic change has been made except for negotiation. Without remedy, this situation is not settled once and for all. It’s the best they can do to make a promise, to put their portion of the keep up for collateral, and work together.
The final three chapters are still more loosely planned, because they’re reliant on other chapters which may or may not remain in the story.
The gist of the last three chapters is as follows.
More time has passed since their treaty. They have been much more reliable to one another. Though the vampire is still lazy, and the dragon still fills quickly with rage. Their population has modernized with the continued contribution of its masters. The dragon and the vampire are working according to their previous blood pact.
The dragon has been working a forge to maximize local manufacturing capacities. The vampire has supposed to have taken on an active role as ambassador to the island. Instead he’s effectively returned to his previous apathetic barstool and lazy near pointless writing. Less ambassador, more he’s been getting out of her way. He’s pretending to be busy most of the time, and only sometimes negotiating things she has trouble with.
In his capture and meandering in meaninglessness he has begun to notice a new kind of societal rot that he hadn’t before. Like malformed and dying leaves on plants, his people appeared pale, or sick and drugged. Since he’d quit feeding on them, he’d also quit paying much attention to their health. He concludes that their problems are environmental, or indicative of a more powerful force imposing its silent will on all of them and their land.
As if waking from a siesta in the hot sun, he infers that the influence has been manifesting itself from the same place that his writing has. Curiosity grabs him, and so he goes to work writing once again, repurposed to investigate the root cause.
In his writing chamber, though the vampire cannot see itself in the mirror, he looks into it and clearly sees that his whole world is being watched from its other side. He writes for one month in isolation, conjures out the recognizable characteristics of this beast, and learns what it is they’re up against.
He takes leave to inform all the other dominion keepers, and implores them to tell others. They are skeptical and unmoved by his words, until he shows them what he has bottled, a He points out their similar societal rot and how their own motivations have been recently diminished.
This is a zom-pocalypse, where he learns that his people are becoming brain deficient, attacking any one of their own that no longer identify with one another.
Because that threat is coming from an ethereal place, it is infecting and scrambling their value system. Also because this had apparently gone on for years without him noticing it, their time may be shorter than one more season away from total collapse. Who knows what will happen if their populations are destroyed. Lastly, because the threat is infectious, he concludes that it’s not enough to shield them. What they need is an immediate plan of action. He and others must go on the attack.
The first step is to show them what he has discovered behind the mirror which they have all surely seen by now too. In this meditative state, he captures the image of the beast like a screen shot, breaks down and crushes his mirror into a fine powder. He then mixes it into a concoction infused with his own blood. He bottles and caps it, and writes down all the steps so that he can replicate the process for any non-believers. Essentially captured, if you shake the bottle, in with the sparkling glass dust and bubbles that monsters face is reproduced, and anyone who sees it will immediately recognize it as the beast who rips their dreams away as they wake. It is the monster that separates us from our paths, that which tore down our communication lines and towers connecting our inner and outer selves. This beast is not faceless, and what is worse, its presence is more apparent than ever before. It’s captured our attention more than ever before, as we have gone from knowing ourselves, to worshiping false versions of ourselves in front of mirrors, to forgetting who we are meant to be in front of flashing screens.
The vampire takes his bottle, his instructions, and his version of a pact for his people to share with all the other leaders.
They must kill the rot from within, purge those rabidly affected, and jail those who are addicted to this madness.
In some places this would work, and in others where the contagion has taken over more, they will have conversely self-sequester until their ethereal battle is over. They must join forces, preemptively draw the beast out from its subterranean realm and collectively disable it in the realm of ideas. From it formulate a social antibiotic that will repair citizens whose internal natures have been restructured. There will either be a solution for these people, or else it won’t matter because the beast will steal all of their creativity and connection. If we don’t act now, they will fall like dead leaves from a poisoned tree.
Chapter three, the final chapter. The plot becomes especially disparate here, as I have yet to finish.
All of the overwatchers (as we’ll call them) implement their various decrees of temporary martial law, mandatory militias, and preventative segregation. Secondly all digital entertainment is repurposed for educational and work related purposes only. Nobody likes it, but a three month break is mandated across all lands.
Finally the leaders all come together to meditate with a united purpose, so as to recognize one another in the 4th dimension forms and roles.
(This has been brought to light in another previous chapter within the book. As brainstorming on a page, becomes a blueprint from which we can design magnificent things, our actions if this 3rd dimension yield and solidify concepts as reliable as blueprints in the next dimension. This call to action for our 3D selves, presents itself as a viable plan for our 4D.)
I cannot tell you with certainty what happens after that point except for what can be deduced from changes that have happened from this day forward. I would be outright lying if I tried, as at my friend’s funeral when the pastor told the attendees how he witnessed my friend and his mother reunited in the clouds when he heard the news of his passing. Maybe the battle occurred, maybe it never did, or maybe ethereal battle simply knows no winner. Maybe also my friend is there with his mother watching me write this. I cannot know for sure, and it would be a lie if I said I could.
Very few of the overlords returned after being rejoined with their remote selves, and finding that the beast had already disfigured each of us. The realization alone transformed our physical selves to forever reflect the ages old corruption within our souls, now hideous and hated by our populations. Others never returned from their meditative states, partly unwilling to separate again from their true selves, and partly too ashamed to live unmasked and forever corrupted. Some fought this beast, destroyed themselves, and fell dead.
All of us who returned went into hiding, to be remembered only in our final decrees, and storied heroism. Living out our lives in solitude, some choose to continue secretly watching our populations grow. Proud at having removed much of the poisons we embody, but leaving them to utilize what talents they have learned, still make new mistakes and missteps all their own. Other unfortunate leaders may have survived yet never overcame the beast, and thus also never recovered enough to love themselves or their people again. Destroyed by their disfigured nature, they are unable to enjoy anything to this day. To them, no good has come of life since they were separated from their populations. Instead they choose to live lives saturated in self abuse, perpetually defeated, and habitually in denial of any attainable happiness. Their equally unfortunate populations suffer respectively according to the whims of the beast, living out every moment to satisfy their own egos, or the ego of their abusers.
As for our Vampire and Dragon, though they had each loved themselves more than they loved one another, and though they loved their dominion and trove of riches respectively more than the population that yielded it to them. They were left completely bare with one another. Though the battle had lost them nearly everything, and also left them unmistakably disfigured, they could still choose to love each other. They were given an out, another chance to leave, and neither of them took it. Despite the only reason they had remained together in their previous battle, they decided to stand together behind their blood pact, proud of the decrees by which their population has thrived since their departure.
As it turns out, their population doesn’t need them anymore. They have each other so that they can continue to be good. The Vampire has all he needs in the Red Dragon, and the Dragon has her travels to still corrupted lands whose populations she can decimate with fire and on whose corpses she can feed like platters of chicken wings. Our outcome is as balanced as anyone could hope for; partly lucky, partly hard earned, and humble to be still elevated in storied lore and honored code of conduct.
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