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Continunity Comp - Comp-osition not Comp-etition

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Postby MrPetrov » Sun Jul 01, 2007 7:24 pm

And now to follow my own advice.

I recall from the distant past a composition exercise in which I was asked to produce the first portion of a narrative. The end was to be left hanging. The resulting works-in-progress were then shuffled and handed out again. Your task was to continue the narrative but to leave the end hanging once again. The results were again shuffled and handed out yea unto the fourth or fifth generation.

Initially, I scoffed. It seemed a waste of talent on my part and drudging effort on the parts of my peers. After all, who could possibly match the originality, wit, and style of my writing? At the time I wasn't even being sarcastic.

The results, however, were surprising. Not only did I discover that I was a terrible writer, a fact which no doubt you all have learned in less than twenty posts, but that the people with whom I was working were, indeed, some of the most boring and unoriginal hacks to ever put pen to paper. They thought the same of me, no doubt.

This cannot be said of the ADRIFT community, which I have so recently spent several thousand words lauding and imploring. Drifters, by dint of their particular passion for IF, are verbal, textual people who possess not only the intellectual refinement necessary to produce good and creative writing but also the dedication to achieve completion. Anyone willing to put together a hundred locations worth of richly implemented underground maze just to have someone they've never met tell them their spelling is awful must eat nails for breakfast and horsehide on Christmas.

And so I invite you to join me in this little exercise. Anything from a paragraph to a page should be about right. Post following post should add up to a linear (or non-, for that matter) narrative, preferably fictional. I am sure the moderator will keep a better eye on the content than I could but let's try to keep things sane, please.

I'll begin.
I am alive.

Currently working on:
*WIP XXIV (part III) "The Best Game In the World"*
*WIP XXV "Except For This One"*
*WIP XXVI "A Really Good Idea That Went Nowhere"*
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Postby MrPetrov » Sun Jul 01, 2007 7:26 pm

William Forsythe badly needed a walk. When he arrived home last night with an aching head and an empty wallet all the lights in the house were dark and the furnace was off. Jane wasn't home either. Things hadn't been going well between then for a long while now and they'd agreed to a divorce in the end, but this was rather extreme.

You see, Jane had taken the equal division of property quite literally. William had been away in the city for a couple of weeks and in the mean time Jane had collected her fifty percent and departed. Fifty percent of the coffee table. Fifty percent of the couch. Fifty percent of the toilet. Fifty percent of the kitchen rug. It looked like most of the work had been done with a chain saw and crowbar. William didn't want to find out what had happened to the car.

There was a note on the half of the kitchen table, along with a sheaf of blue papers that no doubt were his half of the divorce agreement. The table been propped up with half of a chair and William elected to sit on the floor rather than disturb the arrangement. Turning on the lights also demanded more than half of a bulb and he'd had to peer at the paper in the orangey light of the streetlamps filtering through half of the blinds.
I am alive.

Currently working on:
*WIP XXIV (part III) "The Best Game In the World"*
*WIP XXV "Except For This One"*
*WIP XXVI "A Really Good Idea That Went Nowhere"*
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Postby brain in jar » Mon Jul 02, 2007 7:00 pm

It was a notice that Jane was to return for half of more things but this time with a bulldozer. This was quite enough for William so he reached for a phone for a solicitor. "Damn," he thought. She'd taken half the phone, of course! "Hmm, she didn't take any of the receiver. I hope I have all the numbers I need." After his first try, it had been made hopelessly obvious that he was missing all the right keys.

This looks like it'll be interesting. We can add plot elements as we go :)
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Thanks, Bondo!

Now would be an ideal time for procreation.
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Postby DChabino » Tue Jul 03, 2007 2:03 pm

One half of the keys dangled from his fingers as he shook the gently, rattling them like a musical instrument as he began to ponder the predicament. The various elements of his thoughts required much concentration, and so he moved to the half toilet and place on cheek on the stool to ponder. He didn’t really need to go, but had decided it was the best place to do his thinking.

A great puzzle ensued. Half the keys would be able to open half the places where the spare keys to the other half would be. The spare keys could open other hiding places where other important halves of some halves could be hidden, awaiting later pickup from his now ex-wife. But, the good half of the other half had to be hidden in the places that were the best half of the hiding places that there were. So, after confounding himself thoroughly, he began to ponder where to begin.
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Postby MrPetrov » Fri Jul 06, 2007 4:00 pm

Must... not... let... thread... DIE! (Pulls starter cord on brain. Distressingly rusty-sounding whirring noises erupt from prefrontal lobes.)

---

There was a knock on the front door. William muttered, "Every time...", and hurriedly tugged up his pants. He debated briefly about flushing but hurried away when the knocking came again, louder. It had begun to drizzle during his key-pressing adventure and the two policemen at the door looked like under-ripe strawberries in their hazard orange rain capes. Miserable, pissed off, under-ripe strawberries. With potbellies.

The two policemen followed the standard American model of partnering, Laurel and Hardy. One was tall and gaunt with a pock-marked and perpetually sour face. The other was short and rotund to the point of absurdity and boasted a little toothbrush Hitler mustache that perfectly matched his ridiculously undersized hat. The fat one's eyes were bloodshot and he was white as a sheet. He held a black plastic trash bag at arm's length in front of him, staring fixedly at the lump in the bottom as if he'd seen a ghost.

The tall one stepped in under the eave to get out of the rain and made a hat-tipping gesture. His voice was strangely shrill and girlish and William caught the taint of rye whiskey on his breath as he came far too close.

"Mr. Forsythe?"

William looked up into his tiny, rat-like eyes. "Yes?"

The fat one dropped the sack at William's feet with a wet thump. "Did you have a dog, Mr. Forsythe?"

---

Also, congratulations to DChabino for producing the most confusing half-dozen lines of text I have yet read on the ADRIFT forums. Keep it up, good buddy.
I am alive.

Currently working on:
*WIP XXIV (part III) "The Best Game In the World"*
*WIP XXV "Except For This One"*
*WIP XXVI "A Really Good Idea That Went Nowhere"*
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Postby brain in jar » Fri Jul 06, 2007 8:52 pm

"Er, no, but I have a cat," William responded, smugly yet confused, "I hope my ex didn't try to take half of him!" he added sharply, trying to make their standing at his door less contemptible than it should somehow be. "Oh," the short officer snorted, suddenly making the term "pig" seem justified, "you must be the other bloke we're after, then." The rain was picking up in strength and the storm drains outside were clogged, making small streams down which families of ducks were swimming. The fat officer motioned his eyes to the tall officer and then to the bag. The tall one misunderstood him just nodded his head. The fat officer fumed, raised his trotter to smack the tall idiot in his head and lobbed a short expletive his way, "the bag you idiot!" The tall officer strode to bend his way down to open the bag (almost kicking himself with his knees), where he shifted a drowned dog and underneath it revealed...



Edited By brain in jar on 1183755787
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Thanks, Bondo!

Now would be an ideal time for procreation.
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Postby earthclaws » Fri Jul 20, 2007 8:49 pm

:claps: :bravo: :dancer: :D...ya Im just messing with smiles.... :)
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