Thursday, October 31, 2013

(Almost) A NaNoWriMo Kickoff!

I'm here at midnight to bring you an exclusive NaNoWriMo kickoff post! I've got my stockpile of candy and YouTube videos while I wait. This post is going to be a journal post. As I begin typing, it's 10:05 p.m. Central Standard Time. I've just eaten a piece of candy, and now I'll go surf the web for thirty minutes.

...

10:32 p.m. CST. Getting tired, actually. Do I still want to stay up until midnight? Gonna watch some more videos.

...

10:51 p.m. CST. Ugh, I want to go to sleep! I shouldn't have stayed up last night, then I'd be refreshed for NaNoWriMo. Oh well. But I'm only an hour away...
Okay, I'm going to bed. November is almost here, 'tis the season for writing like crazy. Night.
-JW

Poetry Thursdays - The Hunter

Greetings, readers! I come bringing poetry, and very bad poetry at that. Please try to enjoy my rhythmic fumblings below:

Deep in shadows of the nightly glade,
Where crawl the creatures of the night,
A silent hunter lone is laid,
Awaiting prey in his eyesight.

The hunter's arrow notched and primed,
His eyes do see the sudden shape
Of silhouetted doe well timed;
He crouches lower in his cape.

The string drawn back, he fires aloft,
And strikes the deer straight on at once;
The hunter springs, with feet so soft
And follows after the bleeding prey.

He finds her in a field afar,
And takes what's useful from her hide;
He sets off under nightly star,
To home, where he'll prepare the side.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Wednesdays: 25 Facts About the Human Brain

Welcome to Inkweb! Today, I have a compiled list of 25 facts about the human brain.

Concerning the schedule: tomorrow I will be posting a short poem I have composed, and then on Friday will be Cat Monologue #6! On Saturday, I will post HyperLinkzer's suggested short story.

---

1. The human brain weighs about 3 lbs.
2. The human brain starts growing at birth and stops growing at approximately eighteen years old.
3. The human brain uses about 20% of the total oxygen in the body.
4. The reason that it doesn't tickle if you touch yourself is that the brain recognizes the difference between your own touch and unexpected external touch.
5. Memories triggered by scent have stronger emotional connections in the brain.
6. Einstein's brain is at a museum in Philadelphia.
7. Most people dream about 1-2 hours a night and have 4-7 dreams during that time period. Just because you can't remember dreams doesn't mean you don't have them.
8. Laughing requires activity in five different areas of the brain.
9. The human brain is 75% water.
10. The brain can feel no pain, in the rain, falling gently on the plain in Spain. :) The brain actually has no pain receptors.
11. Reading aloud and talking often with young children promotes their brain development.
12. While awake, the human brain generates enough power to turn on a lightbulb.
13. Physical illness is highly tied to psychological illness. 50-70% of visits to the doctor for physical ailments are estimated to be related to psychological factors.
14. Every time you recall a memory or have a new thought, you are creating a new pathway in your brain.
15. Brain waves are actually more active when you're dreaming that when you're awake. "When we're asleep, our mind can do almost anything...Now in a dream...we create and perceive our world simultaneously, and our mind does this so well that we don't even know what's happening. That allows us to get right in the middle of that process...by taking over the creating part." Haha, sorry for the Inception quote. It's my favorite movie, and I couldn't resist.
16. Harvard has a "brain bank" where human brains are stored for study.
17. Humans are estimated to think an average of 70,000 thoughts per day.
18. The word "brain" appears 66 times in the plays of William Shakespeare.
19. The hippocampus of a London taxi driver is much larger than the hippocampus of an average person, because London taxi drivers know the city streets by heart, and their brains have grown to accomodate this memorization.
20. 85% of the brain is the cerebrum.
21. Music increases brain organization (both playing and listening).
22. There are 100,000 miles of blood vessels in the human brain.
23. The hearing range the average young adult's brain can interpret ranges from 20 to 20,000 hertz.
24. The average human brain is 167 mm long, 140 mm wide, and 93 mm high.
25. Hmmm...don't have any more facts. Oh well.

Happy end of October and beginning of November! I would try to start growing a mustache for Movember, but I haven't got any facial hair yet. I'll just have to settle for endless noveling...ah, well...
-JW

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Announcement: November Noveling

Okay, readers of Inkweb, I have, on the spur of the moment, at the flip of a coin, at the roll of a die, decided to participate in NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month is quite fun, and although I do not have the faintest inkling of an idea what to write, it will still be fun to try. I've completed it once before, and also Camp NaNoWriMo, which was the more successful time of the two.

However, readership, I will not abandon you! My schedule will remain largely the same, except for one small detail:

DURING THE MONTH OF NOVEMBER, I WILL NOT BE POSTING SHORT STORIES.

Well, that's the major change for the month. I will still post HyperLinkzer's suggested story this Saturday, November 2nd. I will still be posting cat monologues and fact lists and poems, and, of course, mad things (maybe even novel excerpts) on Mondays. But I will not be posting on Saturdays this month.

Toodles!
-JW

Poetry Tuesdays: "On A Play Twice Seen" by F. Scott Fitzgerald

So, I've decided to make a change to the poetry schedule here on the blog. Thursdays, I will still post my own compositions, but on Tuesdays, I will post other poems that I think noteworthy. This week I am posting one by a great author of the 20th century, F. Scott Fitzgerald, called "On a Play Twice Seen":

On A Play Twice Seen
by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Here in the figured dark I watch once more;
There with the curtain rolls a year away,
A year of years--there was an idle day
Of ours, when happy endings didn't bore
Our unfermented souls, and rocks held ore:
Your little face beside me, wide-eyed, gay,
Smiled its own repertoire, while the poor play
Reached me as a faint ripple reaches shore.

Yawning and wondering an evening through
I watch alone--and chatterings of course
Spoil the one scene which somehow did have charms;
You wept a bit, and I grew sad for you
Right there, where Mr. X defends divorce
And What's-Her-Name falls fainting in her arms.

Monday, October 28, 2013

Mad Mondays: Where's the Postman?

Welcome, readers of Inkweb, to Mad Monday! Today I have a little scavenger hunt challenge for you guys. Basically, it is as follows:

1. I've hidden a small image of a postman somewhere on the blog.

2. It looks like this:


3. Whoever finds it first gets to give me a premise for a short story. It can be about anything of your choosing (within reason). Man goes diving and gets attacked by an octopus? Aliens attack a cheeseburger? Whatever you suggest.

Now, a disclaimer: this scavenger hunt won't require any serious slogging through every single post of the blog. It should be relatively simple, if you've got your wits about you. And no, the postman in this post does not count.

Have a good day, folks! Thanks for reading!

-JW

P.S. Whoever finds the postman also gets to name him, in case I do this again in the future.

Friday, October 25, 2013

Cat Monologue 5 - Curses!

Curses! My owners have succumbed to the vile force of idiocy that so many of the canine race presume! AAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!!!!!! There is no worse thing that could be happening right now; my kibble supplies are running low from paying off Lenny; Max the dog is as stupid as ever; and now, the household is out to buy ANOTHER DOG!!!

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Wednesday: 25 Facts About Bears

Hey readers, sorry for the lack of posting yesterday. Poetry is easy to write, but also easy to forget to write. So, here are 25 facts about bears!

---

1. The easiest way to tell the age of a bear is to count the rings in a cross section of its tooth under a microscope.

2. Only the polar bear is a true carnivore. All other bears are omnivores.

3. Sun bears' tongues can be up to 10" long.

4. Koala bears are not bears; they are marsupials (like kangaroos, only less hoppy).

Monday, October 21, 2013

Mad Mondays: Creepy Dog Thingy

It's Mad Monday! I have to post something today, so here you go:



hallowhedge:

dark-strings:

"The mayor announced that the dogs were not actually dogs, just some plastic bags caught in the breeze that people mistook for wild dogs.”

Did anybody else click and drag? You should.

Disclaimer: THIS IMAGE DOES NOT BELONG TO ME.


I'll get something of substance to post for next time.
I'm underway with a short story for Saturday, I've got some poetry tomorrow and Thursday, and I will post 25 facts about bears on Wednesday. Cat Monologue #5 is coming up on Friday.

So that's our schedule for the week, guys! Toodles!

-JW

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Short Story Saturdays: Bag the Catch

Hello and welcome to Inkweb! Here's my short story, as promised. Any suggestions for Mad Monday? Comment below, let me know. All right, here you go!
---
The truck rumbled down the dusty dirt road, throwing up clouds and clods of pale brown smoke that adhered to the tires and spattered onto the red paintjob. It would need a car wash when it finally rolled back into town, but for now, Max didn’t really care.
He opened the door and stepped out, tilting his baseball cap slightly as he walked. The dirt path was a dead end, but there was a small brown house standing at the side of the road. Max could see the desert for miles around, stretching on for infinity with little hills and bigger ridges, getting farther and farther away until the skyline of the city rose up with the horizon behind.
Max came up onto the porch and knocked on the door.
“Password?”
“It’s Max, lemme in.”
The door swung open, the screen door quivering as it moved. Max stepped in.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Feline Fridays - Cat Monologue #4

Welcome to Inkweb! Here is the newest cat monologue, featuring Chester Felix. Any suggestions for Mad Monday? Comment below and let me know. I hope you enjoy this monologue, in which things get a little interesting around the house.
---
Curses! How daft could my human owners possibly be? I've arranged a deal, and I've walked away worse than when I started out!
Sorry. I should probably fill you in, big wide world. So, you remember my plan, right? I was going to give Lenny an email account for his network of feline informants, and in return he'd get rid of Max for me?
Well, it didn't work out so well, after all. What a surprise. I should have known. Never hire someone to do a job that you can pull off yourself with a little effort.
Anyway, I made a deal with Lenny. I showed him how to create an email account, and I threw in some free kibble on the side, and he agreed to put a bounty on Max's head.
So, yeah. This was where it began to go wrong, you might say. Every other hour of the day, some puffed up kitten was jumping off a fence post trying to pounce on Max.

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Poetry Thursdays: When Yarbull Slew the Strock

Hello, welcome to Inkweb! Today I'll be posting some nonsense poetry. Expect the next cat monologue tomorrow, and a new short story hopefully on Saturday (if I can manage to stop procrastinating and write one). All right, here goes!

"When Yarbull Slew the Strock"

It was a while ago indeed,
When in the flangen fields of whivering slogg,
Our hero Yarbull ventured forth aneed;
He traveled far and wide to seek Caerbrogg,
Where legend says he did his fimious deed.

Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Fact Wednesday: 25 Facts About Books

1. Books are amazing.
2. Books don't have a limited battery life.
3. Books are engaging.
4. Books are better than TV any day. And they cost less. If you leave the TV on, it can get expensive.
5. Books allow us to exercise with our minds.
6. Books give us joy.
7. Books give us sadness. And in the famed words of Sally Sparrow, "[Sadness is] happy for deep people."
8. Books are beautiful.

ul.

9. Books are the imaginations of authors, shared with the world at an incredibly low price. Compared to a movie or a TV show, a book is extremely easy to make.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Sorry! No Post Today

Sorry I wasn't able to post any poetry today. I have to take the PSAT tomorrow, so I've been busy studying. Anyway. Hopefully it won't happen again, but no promises.

Monday, October 14, 2013

Mad Mondays - Liebster Award

This week on Mad Mondays:

THE LIEBSTER AWARD TAG THINGY!!!!!!

Trumpet fanfare! To check out Hyperlinkzer's blog where he tagged/nominated me, click on the embedded link.

All right, let's go through the steps. Basically, an Award is like a tag, so this shouldn't be too complicated.

1. Post link back to blogger who tagged/nominated me. Already did that, go check out Hyper; leaving a link is a nice way to help out other blogs with extra pageviews and, hopefully, members.

2. Answer the ten questions I have been given. Hyperlinkzer's questions will be answered shortly. Hang tight.

3. Nominate ten others and create ten questions-to-be-asked-for-them-to-answer. I don't know very many blogs, but I'll try.

4. Inform said nominated others. I probably won't do ten. Maybe two or three.

Anyway, on to the questions!

Saturday, October 12, 2013

Short Story Saturdays - The Gravestone

MAY, 1936
The phonograph fizzled out music in the corner. A grainy female voice bloomed from the brass flower of the machine. Hodges slumped in the smooth leather high-backed chair, tossing peanuts into the orange hearth.
The dark brown door quietly creaked open, and Hodges’ father poked his head into the spacious room, with a pleasant smile on his face.
“All right. Mother and I are leaving,” said his father. “Be good. Smith will be there if you need anything. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” Hodges replied, putting on a lethargically pleasant smile. Behind his back his hand clenched the leather of the chair in anxiety. He couldn’t wait for his parents to be gone.
Hodges’ father nodded and shut the door. Hodges sat up at once and looked to the fire. He got up and stopped the phonograph. He put out the fire and used the light of the moon to cross over toward the window.
The night was clouded but only partially, and the full moon shone down through the glass of the window like the radiance of the sun into the hidden ocean depths. Water droplets split and streamed down the pane. It was only lightly sprinkling, but it had been for the whole evening. The ground would be muddy, but there was no lightning tonight.
That was good.

Friday, October 11, 2013

Feline Fridays: Cat Monologue #3

Welcome to Inkweb! Have fun reading, comment with your thoughts, and stay tuned tomorrow for my short story "The Gravestone."

This is Cat Monologue #3. It's the third installment of a series of diary entries made by a housecat, Chester Felix.

---

I jumped off the roof yesterday.
Nothing particularly eventful in itself; the landing is what mattered. I stood atop the roof in blazing glory, silhouetted against the sunset, my muscles primed for the leap, and I jumped.
Right down onto Little Timmy’s head.
Needless to say, the chaos that ensued was quite substantial, and during the course of events I was nearly killed by a flailing boy, a terrified mother, and a defensive dad.
But besides all that, and the obvious bruises it entailed, I had a relatively relaxing week.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Poetry Thursdays: My Grandfathers

There's a light on in the small room up the creaky stairs
Where my grandfathers work all night in their four chairs;
I never know what they are doing but I'm
Just certain they do it all of the time.

I've only peeked once into that little room
When I was only three years out of womb;
I don't seem to remember its every detail
I only remember the shiny fish scale.

I touched it and kept it as my little lift
And now I know they'd all planned that little gift;
A fish scale, so dark, I could see my own soul,
But in the end those caring men made me whole.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Announcement: No Posts Today

Hello, readers of Inkweb! I won't be posting today because I've already done a fact post this week, and those lists are harder to compile than one might think at first. Plus, this is my first week using my new schedule, so I'm going easy on myself.

Tomorrow will be another short poem, Friday I will post a cat monologue, and then Saturday I will post a short story entitled "The Gravestone." Please note that the short story is a first draft and is not polished nicely, so have mercy on my writing.

Thanks for reading!

-JW

P.S. I urge you to listen to "Explorers" from the Coraline soundtrack. It's quite beautiful.

Tuesday, October 8, 2013

Tuesday Poems - The Purple Man

There he goes, the purple man
He walks along the path
There he goes, the silent man
He passes without glance.

There he goes, the purple man
He's walking through the woods

Monday, October 7, 2013

Mad Mondays: 25 Facts About Dragons!

All right, our very first Mad Monday! I deliver, per request, 25 "facts" about dragons! Granted, they aren't actual facts because dragons have not been proven to exist (yet!), but still, it's a fun list.

Monday, September 30, 2013

ANNOUNCEMENT: I HAVE A POSTING SCHEDULE!!!

Greetings, human and not-so-human readers of Inkweb, my humble internet abode! I bring peace, and cherries, and good tidings, and various other things.

First off, and perhaps most importantly:

I NOW HAVE A DAILY POSTING SCHEDULE!!! HOORAY!!!

Sweet, right? No more prolonged lapses in posting (hopefully), and it'll keep me writing, especially for Short Story Saturdays.

I've added a tab about my blog schedule, entitled "About Inkweb," and it's up above, so if you want to check out my schedule, you can. Basically I'll be posting six days a week.

Sunday, September 29, 2013

25 Facts, One Post: Birds!

Hello! I've got 25 facts to share with you guys today!

1. Birds cannot play foosball.
2. Birds have hollow bones.
3. Most birds are able to fly.
4. The penguin, ostrich, emu, kiwi, and chicken cannot fly.
5. Technically the chicken can fly; the longest recorded chicken flight is 13 seconds.
6. The book Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke (absolutely amazing book) has a raven's silhouette on the cover.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Searching for Truth - A Poem

Wispy winds carry me along
To my shadowed hiding place
Where I write this tender song
Every night of all the days.

I go there in the evenings,
I stay there till the morn;
I pen my songs and leave for dawn
Where waits my life forlorn.

An answer floated by me
Once on a summer day
While I perched up in an oak tree
The answer slipped away.

I go there for the answers,
I stay there till the morn;
I pen my songs but nothing comes,
To light my life forlorn.

-JW

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Villains (A Tag)

Hello, it's Joel! Here on Inkweb I am (finally) going to respond to a tag! Here's the link to Rayne Speryll's blog:

www.writinginrivendell.blogspot.com

Anyway, this tag is especially fun because it asks me to talk about my writing. And what do I love more than talking about writing? Well, actually writing is fun too, but not as much fun if you never share with other people.

All right, the following is seven questions about my favorite villain of my current book or series.

Saturday, August 3, 2013

The Straw That Broke the Camel's Back - A Poem

This is a short poem I wrote. One might say that it is about the current state of the world. Enjoy.
-JW

The Straw That Broke the Camel's Back

JW Ball


The straw that broke the camel's back
The star who bent at world's attack
The crack that ruptured continents
The book that maimed all faith and sense
The man who toppled great empires
The spark that started forest fires

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Camp NaNoWriMo - Mission Successful!

I have succeeded at Camp NaNoWriMo! I wrote a grand total of 60,931 words this month, with an additional 20,000 before the month began to bring the novel's word count up to...drumroll please...

80,931 WORDS!!!!!!!!

And it turns out I got my word goal just right! At that exact amount of words, I finished the first draft of my novel. And now, to unveil the TITLE!

Broken Thief: The Taskforce, #1

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Cat Monologue 2 - Unaware of My Impending Doom...

Unaware of my impending doom, I decided to eat the tuna. Woe to me! For I have taken part in the worst act of my entire nine lives, and have exposed myself to food poisoning. Ugh.

I haven't been working on my manifesto, because I've had such a bad stomachache that I can't even play with Mr. Annoying Fish Toy, for crying out loud. I am a miserable wreck. When I look in the mirror, my fur is green, my tongue is green, my eyes are green. I cannot stomach food of any kind: not kibble, not tuna (oh no! I've taken a vow never to touch any more of that stuff), not...wait, what's that smell?

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Cat Monologue 1 - In the Way of Things...

In the way of things, I guess I cannot complain for what happened. It was only a matter of time until Stupidface managed to get past the fence and crash my writing capabilities. But honestly, can't a dog just lie down and go to sleep? Now I have to write on this infuriating device they call a "computer" instead of my ergonomic typewriter. I was in the middle of my greatest masterpiece, my manifesto, when that idiotic pug smashed into my office and ripped everything to shreds! Ooh, what's this? A delete button! I never had one of those on my typewriter...


Anyway, I've had to start my extremely epic masterpiece all over again, and no longer do I have a hard copy continually on hand...at least until I can figure out this "printer." I mean, honestly! Using two devices to do what the typewriter by itself can accomplish? That sounds like a waste of resources to me.

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Announcement: Three Trolls and Some Treehugging Billygoats

Welcome, friends, readers, fellow occupants of the magnificent, glorious blogosphere! You're all probably wondering why I've brought you here today...but in fact it is to do none other than reveal the makings of a new project!

The three coauthors of Iron Wyvern, including myself, have come together and decided to finish off The Draconian Letters in style. Trust me, from magical frankfurters to flaming prune juice, this will be one grand finale of a lifetime! As Smok grows older, the uncles also grow older. And they who grow old must soon pass on. Thus, we have decided to finish off the letters with flair.

But though the chronicles of Smok and his family will come to an end, a new chronicle is about to begin! Introducing Water Under the Bridge! Check out more on Iron Wyvern where the fun is just beginning! The adventures of three trolls and their young acquaintance Lout have just begun. Just make sure to watch out for the treehugging billygoats!

Water Under the Bridge may just be the most ingenious scheme the coauthors of Iron Wyvern have ever devised! So stay with us as we journey through the last litteris draconis, and turn the page to a new chapter in the blog's history as Water Under the Bridge takes off!

Thursday, July 4, 2013

WORD WAR!!! Camp NaNoWriMo

Aye, me buckaroos! I be doin' the NaNoWriMo this yarr month! But it be bein' no pirate book, arr! Nay, 'tis me stupid accent t'at's gettin' ye all riled up fer a pirate book. Nae way! 'Tis sigh fie! What mysteryful science coul' be made inturr fiction, I nae know, but 'tis!

That's right. I'm writing a science fiction novel this July for Camp NaNoWriMo. It's the beginning of a trilogy of epic galactic adventures featuring my main character, whose name is Mr. TOP SECRET! That's right, I'm not telling you, because his real name is actually part of a plot point. Crazy, right? Kinda like Doctor Who, or James Bond. James Bond, because when he says his name, we know he's going to be ordering a martini soon, and if he doesn't say his name is "Bond. James Bond" in the movie, then it isn't a real James Bond movie, right? And Doctor Who because, well, duh! Doctor who?

So, I'm writing and writing, and I wrote 9,000 words yesterday! Woo-hoo! Now, I'm going to be gone for the next few days, up in Missouri where the Cardinals play (whoop; I love baseball) and the sun shines all day. Forget this Oklahoma nonsense. Anyway, while I'm gone, I want to instigate a word war challenge thingymabob!

WORD WAR CHALLENGE THINGYMABOB!!!

WRITE!!! Write anything you want, and write as much as you can. Then, on Monday, comment with your word count, and I'll make an announcement with the rankings, as well as word count from now till then. Okay? Let's do it.

This is a contest, but only if you want it to be. You can be competitive and try to beat my word count (trust me, guys; you won't :P ever.) but the main point of this contest is to have fun, write, and maybe even learn something while we're at it.

WORD WAR BEGIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Check out Joel's essay on the Holy Worlds Blog:
http://www.holyworlds.org/blog/?p=1338

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

The Trawler - A Descriptive Exercise


Hello, readers! Welcome to Inkweb! Today, I'm describing an ocean trawler in the middle of the Atlantic. Have fun reading, and make your own descriptions if you want!

April 17th, 1870; Halfway Across the Atlantic Ocean
The great ocean trawler cut through the waves with spunk like a bull goring an unlucky matador. Rain dropped in a continuous sheet of downpour; the frigid sea waves cascaded onto the deck and threatened to bury the vessel in a watery grave, a coffin for a crew of thirty-four, a respected captain, and the inscrutable guest.
But the iron ship plunged onward, breaking a rift through the surging sea slosh with its streamline bow and pushing its way tediously forward through the dark.
A sudden flash lit the great iron beast as it tossed and drove forward; several forms were visible on deck, men in dark sea-jackets, lashed to ratlines and crawling their way along the deck. They were entrenched, embattled against the dark storm, and there could be no turning back, as cried the sunken fleets that had attempted, in vain, to escape the ocean’s wrath. She was a fickle woman, but men still loved her wine-dark waters, though her temper flared like this from time to time.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

The World Is Quiet Here - A Poem

A tip of the hat to Lemony Snicket in the title there. Anyway, enjoy!


The World is Quiet Here


You know quite well what I can see from here,
Those glimm’ring, glitt’ring shadow-shapes afar;
The essence, wispy, of a time whose fear
Did not so dominate a broken star,
Who turning from the road could not do so;
And if he feared he would have come ajar
For to fear will prove the death of any foe.

To fear is just a subtle way to say
That man is not his former strength anymore
As he would have to have been in yesterdays
When he was broken, yet with foot in door
But knew his fate with not a single tear.
I see the shapes though fade they into mist
And I perceive, the world is quiet here.

Sunday, June 30, 2013

Announcement: Concerning the Inspector Wolfe Tales

Friends! Readers! Bloggermen! Lend me your ears;
I come to bury Wolfe, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is often interred with their bones;
Let it be so with Wolfe.

-Adapted from Mark Antony's speech, Julius Caesar, by William Shakespeare

It is true, readers. I am discontinuing the Inspector Wolfe Tales. I shall be supplementing my blog instead with poetry and writing. Inspector Wolfe will live on, but I will not be posting any more of his lore.

The reasoning behind this decision is simple: since the Inspector Wolfe Tales was so long, it was hard for new readers to be incoporated into the blog, when all they saw was "Part 64,000,000" on the very top post. So, I shall discontinue it. I will post stories, poetry, and thoughts of various types on here, and try to be more consistent in my posting, but the Wolfe will be no more, except in the tab above, where I will fill in all of his saga that has been posted for anyone who wants to read it. But there will be no new installments, no clues, no leads, no suspects, no cucumbers, no sporks or spork-hats.


Here lies our friend, the Inspector
James Hamilton Wolfe
(2012-2013)
May he ever rest in peace

Saturday, June 29, 2013

The Fall of Marduk Thunderfist

ATTENTION YE READERS!


This is a poem I wrote a long time ago. I have a lot of nonsense words, interpret those as you will. Thus I am classifying it as nonsense poetry. It is to be read in an Irish or Scottish accent for best results.

The Fall of Marduk Thunderfist
By JW Ball

In Frockentime my dear
They slordeled our flocks of rode
They reigned in torible sneer
And the moniring banks had flowed.

Vendar Frockenschlammer
That iron fist of woe
Didst Marduk of amour
In battle fight and so
The florting cries aloud,
"My love, hast thou been strowned?"
But yet in shatter found,
The body of a king.

As Marduk Thunderfist
In torible torror stood,
From whence, yea, from berist!
That flongen traitor would
End good Marduk's short life.
Cry, "Banter and abroad,
Our bloodish fields didst nod,"
For Marduk swornen fell.

Dead he bled on the bulgy green,
The battle brought him dead,
His body still unseen,
Nor yet his scarlet head.
And forthwith the tumneys
Crowed, "Crockle and a fell,"
Marduk was in the dell,
And smitten lay he there.

The Prossian armies won;
The Flangish tide was beat,
And the battle, it was done.
A shepherd's sheep did bleat,
And so Marduk was found:
"Thou didst with ardor fight;
Carry him home tonight."
And the cock didst woery gow-bray.

In Frockentime my dear
They slordeled our flocks of rode
They reigned in torible sneer
O'er Marduk's old abode.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Broomstick - Part Sixteen (+ CONTEST WINNER)


Welcome to Inkweb! I have a few announcements to make before we begin.

FIRST, I have selected a winner for my contest (in the post below this)! I mulled over the choices, and the winner is.....HYPERLINKZER!!!! His blog is Livin' on the Edge and he came up with a fine character. I will use his character as a police officer in my Camp NaNoWriMo July novel! Congratulations, Hyper!

It has also come to my alarmed attention that the mobile template of my blog has a white background! All of my posts previous to changing the template of the computer version of my blog have been in white! Thus, on my mobile template, my blog was completely unreadable. Two days ago, this alarming fact came to my attention. I don't control my blog through a phone, so I didn't realize this problem until I had mulled over my new blog template. I realized in alarm what I had done, but I've fixed it. No longer are any of my posts written in white! They will now be readable on a phone. Anyway, I'm glad I caught that.

Now, on to Inspector Wolfe's investigation, and the Nether World!

---------

I strapped on my black helmet, protective vest, and belt, attaching a piton cord to the last item, just in case any of the readers was confused and thought I attached it to my vest or eyeball or something.
I looked around and saw a red pyramid-like creature trying to fit on a vest and a belt. Eventually Lox came over and told the little guy he could just have an arm strap with a cord attached to it.
We all processed into the portal room, a circular room lit with soft pulsing blue werelights from the floor. A man stood in the middle of the room, wearing a silver robe and holding a wand in his outstretched left hand.
We came in, and Lox locked the door tightly behind us. “Please tether yourselves to the wall.”
I went over to the wall and stuck my piton in a slot at eye level. Others did similarly.
“All right, please be patient,” Lox instructed, “Lenny’s going to perform the spell.”
I heard a low muttering emanating from the center of the room where Lenny the magician stood. It echoed around the room, a deep roiling tone that bounced around in the acoustics of the space while Lenny moved on to a higher tone in his chanting. This higher tone joined the echoes bouncing around the room, harmonizing in perfect synchronization to create a haunting effect of simultaneity.
Lenny’s arm moved, and the werelights changed colors, switching from soothing blue to unnatural emerald, brightness constantly shifting, shadows flitting about.
Then, we weren’t there in that room.
The landscape around me was desolate and dry, and white clouds sped past like unicorns through a purple sky. The clouds were going so fast I had a feeling of vertigo.
The land was flat for what seemed like miles around. I looked back and saw Lox, standing smugly with the others. I took a tentative step toward Lox, my tether dragging along the ground as I did so. Somehow it was still back at that wall in that room. Lenny was there, in front of me, as I took the step. But the room wasn't there.
My foot hit ground, and the landscape suddenly changed. I was on a tall snow-capped peak, the powdery snow falling sideways, driving into me. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky now, and the landscape was sharp and jagged, mountainous. My tether extended downward behind me.
I took another step, and I was suspended in motion, falling into the magma below in a volcano, but then my tether snapped taut and I stopped. As I swung, the molten liquid below turned into water, sea water, crashing on rocks, and I was clinging to a cliff face. I could still see Lox and Lenny and Spoonella and the others, moving around as well. Did they see the same thing as I did? Or did they experience shifting realities completely different?
I tried to yell up to Lox, who was making her way along a ledge farther up the cliff. But no sound came out of my mouth, except the faintest whisper.
I climbed higher, and the scene changed. I was in a dark cave, and there was a light ahead of me, and something rushed by me. I heard a rustle, and two green eyes peered out of the darkness. “I am the Raven,” rasped a voice. There was a rustle like the fluttering of wings, and suddenly the light was extinguished. I gasped and stumbled forward, and I tripped as my tether turned taut once more. The landscape changed.
I was underwater, but not drowning, instead borne along by a current. I could see the pyramid shape beside me, waving his red arms that protruded out of his triangle-like body. I peered into the water’s depths all around me, but could perceive nothing except the water around and the others on the tour.
I looked below me, but there was nothing except the eventual darkness below. Not even sand. I looked around me, but there was no light source. The water’s light became green, and then red, but it seemed to come from the water itself. I tried to shout to Lox, but only a few bubbles came out of my mouth. I cursed inwardly. How was I supposed to ask questions in this environment?
I stepped forward and was borne out of the current, taken onto the wing of a giant eagle. But it wasn’t an eagle; it was made of paper, which melted away into tiny scraps that became multiple shadows of myself, laughing and pointing at me. I stepped forward across white space and into a tawny canyon, and into a maze of blue columns with different designs, all of them rotating around the base of the structure. ∆˚∫çµΩ, was one of the patterns. Some of them were indistinguishable, and I didn’t think I fully perceived much of the symbols; they were too otherworldly.
I stepped to the side and was upside down walking along the bottom of a blade of grass. I saw Lox above, or rather, below me, and I jumped toward her. The world shifted, and I was pulled sideways into a crumbling house, away from her. I twisted in midair and changed directions, spinning slowly to the ground as I landed on a cubelike platform protruding from a blue plane that stretched ever on into the distance where a pink sun was setting. The others were on similar shapes. I saw Plate-O with eyes wide, groping forward.
I moved towards Lox but the land changed, and I was falling through a dark liquid, and music was playing, a soft music that was dark as well and didn’t make sense. Lox was in the distance. “I just want to ask you something,” I whispered, but she didn’t hear me. The Nether was a nightmare.
I moved forward, and the music turned into the twittering of birds, and I was atop a dandelion in a grassy field, and the other dandelions crowded around me. I saw the others bouncing along them, but I took a step and plunged straight down. My tether seemed to follow me, so I guessed I wasn’t actually moving, but it felt like it. Everyone moved with me, and I retained the same perspective.
Suddenly I passed through fire, and I ran forward. I crossed a desert in one step into a jungle with the next, bounded down a snowy hill into a valley full of cherries and then twisted directions and was falling sideways into a giant dark pit, climbing up out of it and into a mountain range, swimming upward and plunging into a forest of gray. Sometimes the tether tugged, others it bent and moved with me, but always it stayed, and I always saw the others. This was the Nether realm. It was amazingly complex. I hadn’t even gone more than a few feet judging by the length of my tether, and yet I had completely lost myself in the folds of this dimension. How could Alice Shipton even begin to fathom its complex structure? It was clear that she couldn’t have mapped it all, or solved all its mysteries. She may have explained a part of it, but most of it would remain a mystery forever. This realm was not merely that which transported magic; it was magic, the very essence and well of magic, the soul of magic. And Alice was within its depths. Of course she couldn’t survive for long in this, because this was pure magic. There was no way to live here for a prolonged period.
And then there was a shrill whistlelike sound, and it all disappeared, and I stumbled back into reality.
Lenny had brought us back from the Nether world. That sounded funny in my head.
“As you can see,” Lox announced, “the Nether is almost more complicated than one might have first imagined. Every step you take is a step through another world. The Nether’s movements are highly unpredictable, and even Alice Shipton herself once was lost on one of her famous explorations, but using her expertise she managed to relocate her tether and come back to reality. Her discoveries have helped, but the Nether realm is still far too complex for us to navigate without difficulty.”
I nodded and looked around the room, now lit in blue once more. The ducklings were looking around, starry-eyed, at their surroundings, dizzied by their recent experience.
            “All right!” Lox cheered. “Let’s go back to the other room, and I’ll take questions.”

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Song 2

The title of this post will seem completely unconnected to anything I'm writing about hereafter, but trust me, it is. It's connected with how I got the inspiration for the plot of my July novel.
Yes, I am participating in the July session of Camp NaNoWriMo. I know I told T. Granger, one of my followers here on Inkweb and a good friend, and Z. Baner, also a good friend and follower of this blog through JTZ Baner, that I would be waiting until November to put into action my very first novel of this genre, but inspiration struck, and, well, when the muse takes hold, it can get very hard to wait for the right moment to put pen to paper, face to desk, fingers to keyboard, plot bunny to burrowing, brother to bed, and mind to the task. Not necessarily in that order.
So, I'm doing Camp NaNoWriMo. What's that? You looked up my blog, you can look up NaNoWriMo. So there. I've posted the links several times and I'm not going to do it this time. So open a new tab, look it up, and then read on.

Anyway, for my July 2013 project, I am going to write my very first science fiction novel. I believe the genre I will be writing in will not properly qualify as space opera, seeing as it only has a few main characters, a few not-necessarily-so-bad-after-all bad guys, no gigantic space armadas, and tons of nachos. Also, no Sith Lords. But it involves space travel, lots of planets throughout the galaxy, and stereotypically cannibalistic tribal warriors, as of my thoughts so far.

As a special sneak peek, I'll tell you a little bit of what I've thought out so far. It involves a man named (blank) who is on the run from (blank) and happens to find a young companion named (blank) on the way, who comes along with him to help on his quest to (blank), along the way being shot at, flung across the galaxy, trapped in the airlock, and declared the god of death by a bunch of stereotypically cannibalistic tribal warriors, not to mention flying through asteroid fields and all that good stuff. I've got a few details to sketch in, but I've got half a month to do it, and then the writing starts. So what am I telling you this for? You can help me along the way.

I need a character. This character is a galactic police officer and needs to be a compelling character. So, here's what I need:


  • Name for said police officer (along with gender; plus, he/she has to be human, so make it reasonable)
  • Planet of origin for said police officer
  • Description of planet of origin for said police officer (he/she has to be human, though, so make it inhabitable)
  • Description of said police officer (i.e. height, skin color, etc.)
  • Quirky small fact about police officer's likes/dislikes

Got it? I'll pick my favorite and announce whose answer I've picked in an upcoming announcement. Get your answer to me by email: smiling_pint@yahoo.com

Joel out. *static crackles*


Monday, June 10, 2013

Broomstick - Part Fifteen


Everyone got up, and Lox motioned to a door, walking over and opening it for everyone. “If you’ll please step into this next room,” she remarked. I realized that she was the girl I had scried, whom I hadn’t seen. Very eager girl.
I went into the next room, which was filled with diagrams hanging on the walls, as well as protective vests and helmets that were meant to show the kind of gear that spelunkers and explorers wore.
“We’ll start,” Lox said, “with a brief explanation of the history of the Nether exploration trade. The Nether was discovered eighty years ago by a scientist named Victor E. Ismyne, a bear working in quantum magic theory and also the grandfather of Papa Ismyne, the manager of this company. Victor was the first to conjecture that magic did not travel through material means, through the air, but rather he theorized that magic existed in an entirely different dimension which was mostly closed off to normal people, but which affected everything in our lives.” Lox showed off a few old portraits of Victor E. Ismyne; he was a stately gray bear with large glasses on his head and a monogrammed cane in his hand.
“Let’s fast-forward about eight years. By this time Ismyne’s Theorem was largely accepted by the general scientific population,” Lox informed us, “but we had yet to cross dimensions and prove that the Nether realm existed. A man named Bert Norrell, a magician of high repute, worked out a spell that could enable magic to transport a human through the Nether realm. The theories that have developed concerning exploration of this new dimension have come to be known as Norrell’s Laws, and gateways to the Nether are sometimes called Norrell’s Doors.
“Norrell’s followers improved his spell and soon they came to have a sophisticated tool for travelling through the Nether. However, they did not know the effects of Nether travel quite yet, and so they preferred to sit back and ponder what little experience they had of the Nether realm.” Lox paused and smiled at the assembled guests. I heard the ducklings’ pencils scratching as they took notes for their field trip; the dish was simply staring at Spoonella and was not paying attention. I smiled back at Lox.
Lox continued. “Eh-hem. Anyway, an apprentice of Norrell thought that his master was too cautious with these new theories. He put on a helmet and some knee-pads and opened a gate and plunged through. He was never seen again.
“More cautious exploration was developed in his tradition, but with proper safety measures,” Lox explained. “Spelunkers took on the name Strangers, supposedly because the reckless apprentice was named Strange. That has never been confirmed. Anyway, slowly it was recognized that there was a pattern to the shifting of the Nether currents. Explorations were risky, though, because the pattern was never fully understood and often people were stranded in the Nether due to the uncontrollable effect of magic.
“However, just as Nether exploration was fading, and people stopped funding spelunkers, a young woman named Alice Shipton came along. She was a daring explorer, and eventually charted the flows of the Nether and how it moved.” Now this was the interesting part. She might contact me at any moment, and I needed to understand how the Nether worked. Lox continued, pointing to a diagram, “she figured out how magic is altered in the Nether dimension and how that same effect, called the Shipton Factor, could account for the seemingly unpredictable flow of the Nether. Now, thanks to her work, the Nether is safe for some tourism, so that even inexperienced beginners can see how it works.”
“Good for me,” I chuckled as Lox finished.
“Why’s that?” she asked, narrowing her eyes as she looked at me.
“Well, because I’m inexperienced...” I trailed off, then picked up again, “...and a beginner...”
“Oh.” Lox nodded and raised her voice to everyone in the room. “All right, let’s move to the preparation station!” I grimaced. Did everything rhyme around here?

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Broomstick - Part Fourteen


I apologize for the delay in posting; I was preoccupied with other things yesterday and could not post on the last day of the month as usual.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

I took a cab back to the Sleazy Fox and borrowed an address tome to look something up. I also rented out a scry bowl for about fifteen minutes. I found what I was looking for in the tome and scried “All-Weather Tethered Nether Tours, Inc.”
“Hello,” answered a frighteningly attentive young woman’s voice on the other line. “All-Weather Tethered Nether Tours, my name’s Lox, how can I help you?”
I peered into the bowl but only saw a chandelier and the back of an office chair. “Uh,” I faltered.
“Yes?” answered the very pert person on the other end.
“Uh, yes,” I said, “I’d like to go on a tour.”
“Oh, OF COURSE!” exclaimed the voice. She seemed ecstatic. “Of course, of course, of course, of course! Do prices bother you?”
“Yes,” I answered. “Just give me the cheapest full tour you have, I’ll pay when I get there.”
“Of course,” replied the voice with a sweet quality that made me think this girl didn’t quite understand the meaning of the word “reality.” She continued, “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Uh,” I asked, “what time do I get there?”
“Oh!” she exclaimed, and there was a short silence as she, I presumed, looked through their tour schedule. “How early can you be here? We’ve got a reservation for fifteen minutes from now, it’s the full deal, if you can make it. Also half price!” She practically squealed this information at me, as if I had found her lost dog Foo-Foo. “But that might be too early. There’s one in three weeks, and there’s also one tomorrow. Those are your other options.”
“Actually,” I said, “I think I can make it to the one in fifteen minutes.”
“Ooh,” she said, “Papa bear. I would have taken the one tomorrow. All right, well, see you there!” Right before the line disconnected, I thought I heard another thump, and someone shouting awfully loudly, “SOMEONE’S BEEN USING MY DESK!!!!”
I shook my head, replaced the scry bowl and the address tome, and bade Woody goodbye before going up to my room and ransacking it of all the money I had on hand. I had a hunch that this tour would cost quite a lot and I would be eating bread and noodles for the next six weeks as I recovered financially. Oh well. After the investigation I would be getting paid for consulting, so that should hopefully cover expenses.
I went out to the street and hailed a cab. “All-Weather Tethered Nether Tours,” I ordered. “I’ll pay you double for speed.” The carriage scooted off as if hell’s minions were chasing it, insuring that I would get to the place on time for the tour.
We got there, and I paid the driver. “Keep the change,” I gasped as I raced out the door and onto the sidewalk. A bright orange sign, some clear orange tubing with werelights bouncing around inside, proclaimed, “ALL WEATHER TETHERED NETHER TOURS” in large capital letters. This was it.
I ran into the office and saw a huge bear behind the desk in the lobby. Her hair was light brown and fuzzy, a kindly smile lit her face, and perched on her long canine snout was a pair of wire-frame spectacles. “How may I help you, sir?” she asked. “Are you here for the tour?”
I looked around the lobby, nodding. “Yeah,” I said as I surveyed the occupants of the room. There was a spoon with four limbs and a face, sitting next to a similarly animated plate. They looked amorously into each other’s eyes, and I noticed they were holding hands. Next, I saw a large duck with her little toddler ducklings, all sitting attentively on a sofa. I guessed it was a field trip. I saw a few other people, a frog, a man, some sort of jumble of geometric shapes, and a mouse in the corner reading a newspaper.
I paid for the trip and then sat down in the waiting area, next to the dish and the spoon. Music came on that sounded so generic to a waiting room or an elevator that I wanted to kill myself, and then a minute or so after I sat down, the spoon and the plate started kissing. I looked the other way, feeling very awkward.
About three minutes in, some angry utensils burst into the room, and the plate and spoon hid behind the couch. A furious fork yelled, “Where’s Spoonella? I’ll get that rascal Plate-o!” They all ran out, and the dish and spoon came back to their seats. “I hope your parents don’t find out we ran away together,” Spoonella whispered to Plate-o. I concealed my derisive laughter with a well-timed sneeze and an arm over my mouth.
After about ten minutes of waiting, a young woman came out from the back hallway of the building. She was dressed in a black dress with an All-Weather Tethered Nether Tours logo embroidered on the shoulder, and her long curly hair was as bright golden blonde as I had ever seen on someone’s head before. “Hello, everyone, my name is Lox,” she smiled, “and I’ll be your tour guide.”