Announcement: Camp NaNoWriMo

Welcome to Inkweb! I've decided to post about my experience so far of Camp NaNoWriMo.

NaNoWriMo, to those who don't know, stands for National Novel Writing Month and is a non-profit organization devoted to getting your novel written. National Novel Writing Month takes place in November and is a challenge for you to write 50,000 words in a month.

Camp NaNoWrimo is part of the NaNoWrimo project, taking place in other months of the year. Note: It is not a real camp, it's only online. For this one, the target word count doesn't have to be 50,000 words, it can be anywhere from 10,000 words to 999,999 words (although I do not recommend the latter option) and it doesn't have to be a novel, it can be short fiction, nonfiction, a script, or whatever you choose.

I decided to participate in the April session of Camp NaNoWriMo and floor the accelerator, taking my novel's word count to 75000 words, which is turning out to be harder than I thought. Currently I'm about four thousand words behind but that's not the worst I've been and I think I've got it in me to come back. I believe my whole month will be like a surging tide: I'll write like crazy and get up to the target, and then be exhausted and take a break to do other things like school and fall behind about 5000 words before writing my way back into the game. AAAAGGGGHHHH. I'm feeling exhausted already, and it's only the end of week 1.

On top of that, I lost my flash drive so I don't have a big chunk of my writing from the last few days. I've continued in a different document but it's weird not having half my project. I hope I can find my flash drive and add in everything else to the document before the end of the month.

Anyway, here's an excerpt from the part of my novel that I haven't managed to lose, incinerate, or crush under a tractor:

"The city of Brasilia was packed. Alabaster buildings were stuck so close together that in some places the road wasn’t quite as big as the Jeep; pedestrians and bikers were everywhere on the road, and sometimes there would be a fruit vendor squatting with his fruit stand right in the middle of the road.

Birds were everywhere, in every nook or cranny known to man. There were bright colorful birds obviously from that region, and there were darker colored, less vibrant ones as well; they perched on poles and wires, they flocked together on windowsills and bicycles; they filled the air with an incessant flapping noise that stirred up the air into a miniscule whirlwind of currents. Feathers fell through the air like snow, adorning the ground in great green, red, yellow, black piles. There were parrots and parakeets, macaws, a hawk or two hovering high overhead, but the crows gave by far the most clear impression. They were giants, black hulks crouching on telephone poles in groups of about two or three, never a whole murder all together at once, but definitely sticking to each other. While the other birds frolicked, these black-beaked birds sat silently like dark angels staring at the children of light."

-J.W. Ball, In the Trappings of Lost Gold

And, JTZ, please don't spoil the ending in the comments. I didn't even want you to know the ending for this, but you looked at my notes anyway, so, oh well.

Please visit Iron Wyvern and Coal Ridge, everybody! Links here:

www.ironwyvern.blogspot.com

www.ancientryme.blogspot.com

And don't forget to answer the poll at the top right!

Couplets - A Poetry Challenge

A challenge, cried the herald, a challenge for you!

What challenge, asked the king, the challenger who?

Welcome to Inkweb, and please enjoy the first poetry challenge ever on this site! For our inaugural session, there are virtual unicorn rides, blogcorn, and cyber-candy! Yay! Don't forget the pixel sombreros!

!!!

Here we go!

A couplet is a fairly simple form of verse. It's easy to come up with: write two lines that rhyme with each other.

So here's the challenge:

1. Comment with a second line to finish this couplet:

"The Minoan goats loved to think"

2. Write an original couplet of your own! Feel free to share it in a comment below, but you don't have to.

3. (optional but recommended) Answer the poll question at the top right corner of the blog.

4. (also optional but recommended) Check out Iron Wyvern and Coal Ridge! Their links are to the left. I help co-author Iron Wyvern, and Coal Ridge is a blog, mainly for poetry, created by one of the other co-authors! Really, have a great time going through those blogs.

Broomstick - The Inspector Wolfe Tales, #1 - Part Eight

This is Dopey, roger. We’re in. Commence secondary diversion and deploy primary maneuvers.

Grumpy looked up. “That’s our cue. Let’s get out of these itchy bushes.” We jumped up and cut across the lawn towards the building. I felt my heart pumping like crazy as the adrenaline set in. I was going to help commit the crime of the century. And then I was going to stop the crime of the millennium. Someone needed this Nether Key, and I just knew it had to be connected with Alice’s disappearance.

“Why are we attacking at midday?” I puffed as we got to the wall of the building and Grumpy unzipped a black bag.

“Security’s worse at night, you idiot,” Happy snapped. “So we’re attacking in the middle of the day when the guards are really bored.”

“Unfortunately cannibal turkeys never get bored,” Grumpy remarked matter-of-factly as he stapled a circular length of wire to the wall and got out his wand. “All right, buckos, step back.”

His wand sparked, hitting the fuse on the wire, and with a short abrupt bang, the wall crumbled inward in a circle of plaster and brick. Grumpy led us in.

We’re in, Happy signaled.

All right, commencing secondary maneuvers, remarked Bashful with something of a gleeful tone to his thoughts.

“So we’re the primary maneuvers?” I whispered.

“No need to whisper, dolt,” Happy told me. “Of course we’re the primary maneuvers. We’re going to steal the Nether Key. The others are just distractions.”

“Except for Bashful,” Grumpy smirked. “He’s going to wreak some havoc.”

I restrained myself from asking the manner of this havoc. If I appeared to be too inquisitive, I might lose my credibility. I was supposed to be stern and tough, an overseer sent from “the three,” whoever they were.

We advanced down a corridor, torches on the walls rapidly flickering red and an alarm siren echoing through the halls along with the bloodcurdling wails of the carnivorous turkeys.

“Backup will be here in ten,” Grumpy remarked. “We’ll have to be quick.” We raced down several hallways and up several staircases until we arrived at a large steel vault door.

Diversion in progress, Bashful updated. Suddenly the noise of sirens cut, and the torches stopped flickering. I still heard the screeching of the turkeys, but overall the building was much quieter. Silent alarm cut; cancelling reserve spells. Backup is on its way, but the Peacelocks no longer have were-camera feed or communication with the building.

How is he doing that? I asked, taking advantage of the worm coiled around my brain.

He’s at the security control room, where all the defense spells were originally cast, Grumpy replied. Bashful’s good with magic.

Bashful’s thoughts came in again. Working on vault hexes now. Clock’s ticking.

I heard muffled thumps coming through the floor, and the building shook a little.

Fighting security, messaged Dopey. Taking heavy spellfire from Peacelocks. Doc’s trying to distract the turkeys but it’s not working well. Enemies headed your way.

I heard the shrill keening of the bloodthirsty avians as they drew nearer to us, getting louder and louder and rising to a discordant apex pitch.

Hexes disabled; working on wards and curses now, Bashful informed us. Backup just arrived, three regular Peacelock carriages and a Peacefire crack team. They’re fanning out and preparing to breach. A suspenseful pause, and then: Vault unlocked. You’re free to enter.

Happy shot his hand out and grasped the handle of the steel door, twisting gently and pushing the door inward. It made not a sound as it swung open.

And then the turkeys rounded the corner.

Announcement: Coal Ridge

If any of you buckaroos out there has been paying attention to Iron Wyvern (www.ironwyvern.blogspot.com) then you already know about Coal Ridge. However, I wasn't going to count on that and I wanted you to get a heads-up.

A good friend of mine, T. Granger, who makes up the "T" in "JTZ Baner, has begun a blog of poetry entitled Coal Ridge. Here's the link:

www.ancientryme.blogspot.com

Enjoy, critique, have fun! He just wants suggestions and helpful criticism, and perhaps a little bit of praise thrown in there as well.

-Joel 

Shoes (& Important Announcement)

Shoes. Anybody wear them?

Well, anyway. That was just to grab your attention. The next installment of Inspector Wolfe is below. And the other one's under it, in case you haven't caught up. Just click the label "Inspector Wolfe Tales" in the Post Index to the left to get them all in chronological order.

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT:

The Inspector Wolfe Tales will be posted thrice a month, beginning next month. The dates of the posting of each installment will be:

10TH OF THE MONTH

23RD OF THE MONTH

LAST DAY OF THE MONTH

This month, March, however, since I missed the 10th of the month, it will be just today, the 23rd, and the last day, the 31st.

Broomstick - The Inspector Wolfe Tales, #1 - Part Seven

I stared at the building, at its magnificent glory. It stood for the destruction of crime and the construction of peace. And I was about to help break into it.

I had three choices: (a) run away, (b) go ahead with the heist, or (c) make sure the heist goes awry. My mind automatically chose option (b).

I’ll explain. In a deep cover operation like this, you really can’t risk aborting the mission when lives might be on the line. Alice was fading fast and the quickest way to get to her was to join up with these guys. If there was a delay, say, if I chose option (c), then their plan would be stalled, and Alice would most likely have completely faded by then.

Grim as this was, I had to carry on and steal the Nether Key.

Have we discussed the Nether Key? Maybe not. I’ll tell you later.

Anyway, Grumpy signaled for me to come with him and Dopey, and we headed around the perfectly-manicured lawns to a clump of bushes around back of the building, where we found another dwarf with a mask over his face crouching there.

“About time you showed up!” he growled. “And who’s Big Bad ‘n Bushy over there?”

I snarled at him. “I’m with the Three. They want me on the mission.”

“What?” the dwarf snapped. “We’ve already got plenty of cover in these bushes without you. Speaking of which, get in here before we get spotted!”

“Hey, cut the attitude, Happy,” Grumpy said, and I realized the identity of this snarky personage. “I’m in charge here, and I’m telling you—he’s with us. The Three sent him. You know how it is. They’re giving us that big honking paycheck.”

“Whatever,” Happy spat. “Come on. And here’s an extra earpiece for our guest.” He reached into one of the bushes and pulled out a slimy green worm that wriggled between his stubby fingers. I instantly recognized the specimen as being a Terravermis limus, more commonly known as a “seashell slug” and having very interesting properties. If split in half, each half would grow into a full slug, psychically connected. A practical use of this property is to insert the slug into one’s nose, where it will slither up and coil around the brain. Thus, if there are more of these slugs elsewhere in other people’s brains, then one can transmit thoughts to the others via the psychic connection between the seashell slugs. It sounds disgusting. It is.

I grimaced under my mask and took the slug. I lifted up my mask and slid it carefully into my nostril. I felt horrible, like I was about to sneeze, and the slug slithered up my nostril. I started to gag and felt it tickling the inside of my head, and then I snorted and my jaw hung slack.

“Oh, no,” Happy hissed. “He’s gonna sneeze!”

Never sneeze with a seashell slug half-coiled around your brain. I, luckily, managed to swallow down the impending storm and seized up as the tickling in my brain continued.

Then it all stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief and suddenly heard all six dwarves’ thought-chatter.

Donuts, said one of them. Bread and donuts. I thought I recognized Bashful.

This is Dopey, setting up the breach spells with Doc and Sneezy. The operation was going down already. They were going to steal the Nether Key right now, and I was going to sit by listening into their thoughts.

I needed to get a splice of my worm to a Peacelock detective. If the dwarves pulled off another heist, they’d be able to listen into their thoughts and capture them. I just hoped they reused their worms.

We hunkered down in the bushes as quietly as we could manage. Dopey sent another message. Breaching the wall in three, two...
Then I heard it. A horrible wailing shriek, emanating from the Magical Artifacts Impound.

The deadly turkeys were on the prowl.

Broomstick - The Inspector Wolfe Tales, #1 - Part Six

Sleepy drove the carriage. Judging by his name, I was scared to death that he’d fall asleep at the reins and we’d crash.

It was the other way around once he started driving. Sleepy’s the fastest dwarf carriage racer in the west. And we weren’t driving any old pumpkin. We were in the best: a TurboTroll XL12, with a team of two mean-looking horses champing at the bits. These guys were for real.

We all loaded into the back of the sleek convertible, and I was handed a mask by Bashful. “It’s so they don’t see your big wolfy face,” he told me, not at all bashfully.

“Sorry about him,” Grumpy said. “He’s always speaking his mind.”

“I can see that,” I said, and put on the mask.

Sleepy pulled us into Mach Four to exit the parking lot, ramped it up to Mach Seven for the road, and I was feeling very sick very soon, and also very glad we didn’t use the highway, for fear that Sleepy would have upped the speed another notch.

We had arrived, and at a criminal’s dream target. That criminal’s dream was a nightmare, mind you. And my thoughts on robbing the place made a nightmare look laughable. If this heist the dwarves were pulling off went sideways, and I got caught, it would be prison for life with me. Even if it wasn’t, by the time I got out, my chances of a good career in detective work would be blown.

Oh well. I’d already pitched myself in. And Alice was running out of time. I thought of Aleck’s dead body. Something was going on here that I didn’t understand, and I needed to find out what it was, before it was too late.

Grumpy opened the door to the carriage, and the dwarves cleared out of the cabin. I followed, and as soon as I was out, Sleepy was off like a shot. “He’ll pick us up when the job’s done,” Grumpy told me.

I looked at the building I was about to help rob. It was the Official Faeraway Magical Artifacts Impound. It stretched three stories high, was guarded by a crack team of Peacelocks and cannibal turkeys, and held within its walls thousands of confiscated magical objects, taken from various criminals by the police and stored here for safekeeping.

“All right, boyos,” Grumpy started, raising his voice so he could be heard clearly by everyone. “We’re only here to take the one thing. And that’s the Nether Key.”

My eyes widened and I gasped unintentionally. This was bad. Really bad.