Late again, I know. I hadn't actually planned on making one, but KathrineROID convinced me over on her blog Scribbling on the Computer to write it anyways. So I agreed, for accountability is good. Granted, it won't be anywhere near as long as hers.
First, I'm going to try and write 500 words a day. It doesn't matter as much what I write, just as long as I write. You might get flooded with blog posts now. I'm also doing it because writing skills is a muscle, and inspiration comes while writing.
I'm also going to try and do either a minimum of 15 push-ups, or a minimum of 30 push-ups a day. Or maybe work up to 30. Why? To build arm strength and general fitness. Why 30? It's the most I've managed to do in a single minute.
Thirdly, I'm going to attempt to finish the first draft of The Dying Words of Dick Elden, Galactic Gumshoe by the end of the year. The reason is that I have yet to finish a draft of a novel. A shame, I know. And an annoyance.
Oh, I'll also be working on something titled Secret Project 001, something that has me more excited about writing fantasy since I finished reading LotR for the first time.
So, what are your resolutions?
Showing posts with label Dick Elden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dick Elden. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Millenium Falcon? Nah. Enterprise? Nah. Spectral Vigilante? Maybe
 |
| His Ship |
These are my current ideas.
- Vigilante
- Vigilante Shadow
- Spectral Vigilante
- Vigilante Myth
- The Investigator
Monday, March 7, 2011
Excerpt from THE DYING WORDS OF DICK ELDEN, GALACTIC GUMSHOE
This is my latest novel and the reason I haven't posted in a bit. It's brand new, a parody, and copyrighted to me.
The Dying Words of Dick Elden, Galactic Gumshoe
The Dying Words of Dick Elden, Galactic Gumshoe
An Unexpected Visit
I was always getting into trouble. Well, that isn’t true, not really. I’m the kind of boy who just can’t resist adventure, which has gotten me in trouble.
Oh, call me Dick. My full name’s Elden, Dick Elden. I’m a high-schooler and whenever life got me down, I’d go for a walk. When my spirits needed restoring, I could always count on the headlands of Massachusetts to restore them. Or, at least, make them seem smaller. But it was the stars that truly drew me up.
It was well after dawn on a spring morning in 2010 and the young teenagers of Blansfield were just dragging themselves out of bed. I was already up.
In fact, I was a on a walk above the sea, absorbing the crashing of the waves and shrieks of sea gulls. Then it happened! A bang! A flash! I reared back like a horse with its reins caught round a tree.
As I picked my self up off the ground, I spotted an oddly dressed figure staggering towards me. I scrambled back, but my curiosity was sparked. The figure looked like a man dressed in a trench-coat with a fedora on his head.
“Wait!” He croaked, and I paused, before stepping forward like a man in a trance.
“Wait!” He croaked, and I paused, before stepping forward like a man in a trance.
“What?” I asked, still taking in the man’s bloodstained coat-front and pale face. He was dying that was obvious.
“T-take t-this.” The man spluttered, coughing out spittle and globs of red liquid. He stuck his hand forward to me and shoved something at me.
“A-alright.” I stammered. “What is it?” He muttered something. “What was that?” In a burst of strength, the man answered with a defiant yell.
“The successor of the position is chosen!” With that, he collapsed like a limp rag. I checked his pulse. Nothing. I looked down at the thing. It was a small thingamajig that looked like a computerized passport. There was a button that was helpfully labeled ‘Press Me to Turn KIAC On.’ I pushed it.
“Welcome unidentified person. I am the Know-It-All-Computer or KIAC.”
“What?” I nearly dropped the machine. Fumbling, I managed to catch it, but not before I’d pressed several buttons.
“Please state your name, date of birth, and place of residence.” That, my friend, was strange. I complied though. Something told me this was important and the machine’s orders be followed. I learned later it was the KIAC sending telepathic messages. Not cool.
“I am Dick Elden, born on October 3, 1994 AD.” I studied the machine. It was doing something, and the words were in some weird alphabet like Klingon.
“Congratulations on your promotion Dick Elden, Galactic Gumshoe and Official Representative of Terra to the Galactic Private Detective Agency.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, secretly wanting to know and do whatever it meant. It wasn’t KIAC this time either. I’d always wanted to be a private detective.
“Perhaps Ah shout’ exsplain.” A new voice cut in. I turned and blinked. Again, I blinked. There was a small furry creature in greasy overalls with a rag sticking out of his pocket and a wrench beside it. It had a thin and long head with eyes on the side.
“Shain’t pulite sto stare.” The creature said.
“Shain’t pulite sto stare.” The creature said.
“Er, um, well, sorry.” I stammered.
“Stop stammering like a Kreech after a crash.” There was that KIAC again.
“That might be a good idea.” I replied to the creature, alien, person. “You’re name isn’t Scotty is it?” He/it spat.
“Shcotty! Swhat a shtrange name! Mah name ish Bax Grashden.” He added. “Shnow zwe really must be leaving!”
“Bax! Grab the kid and move! We’ve got Hegemony fighters coming in!” That was a new voice coming out of nowhere. I whirled. A battered old ship shimmered into view, seemed to cough, and fully materialized. Then I saw three more ships.
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Tune in sometime for more!
Can anyone guess where I copied and tweaked parodied the first three paragraphs? They're the opening paragraph to three well known classics. Here's some hints: safe for a steamboat, whale of a tale, and fighting brothers.
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