The Adventures Of Lord Roman - Chapter 4: Blinking Over the Brink

The Adventures Of Lord Roman - Chapter 4: Blinking Over the Brink

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A laugh that sounded like a bubbling cauldron, if a bubbling cauldron had the timbre of a hundred helium-induced sheep shouting, tittered into the dank cell where Roman lay. He responded with weak moans that successfully expressed a mixture of fear and how little faith he had in the character entering the room. By now the skin on his wrists beneath the straps were red, almost blistering. He grit his teeth and pushed his chest upwards, closing his eyes as if to ping out of the situation into some imaginary paradise that straining with all your remaining strength teleports you to.

The erratic tittering came closer. A shlink of chains hit the floor by his head, followed by a heavy metal clunk. He winced, as a rough, cold object touched his forearm. He dared not open his eyes. "Please. Please. Please," he whispered, "just leave my Franklin."

The cold sensation that had been travelling down his upturned forearm halted and the cauldron of sheep overflowed with a flock of laughter. Then Roman convulsed in agony; a blood-illuminating scream teared like a pterodactyl ripping out of his chest. In his rage and panic filtered vision he saw a giant pink peanut with the painstaking smile of a cheap doll. Its pupils rattled in its sheer-white eyes like a dishevelled fly trapped inside a lampshade. Whether or not the creature really was a peanut was far less important to Roman than the fact that it was gouging out the tendons in his right arm with a rusty meat hook. It chirruped like a vibrating hummingbird on ketamine all the while.

In a moment of clarity, Roman knew he was going to die. He knew that this was it.

His face lay back in the pale square of moonlight and gave up a sort of sick overwhelming allowing. He stared into the moon, which seemed to have grown five times its normal white size, and his vision became as crystal clear as when he were five years old. The hacking pain of the peanut remained in his flayed arm, but it was felt alongside the clocktower corner in Arfandol at the age of 17, watching her screw up his letter and turn away for the last time; the desire to get a good sniff of Mrs. Raibu's fresh apple pie at the age of 6, but being sent to lie in the dog kennel in the rain after he tugged the tablecloth and it smushed on the floor; holding the stamped letter from the king at the age of 8, learning that his father had died somewhere thousands of miles across the ocean and would not be returning.

The closest things to what he experienced next is a breath, the word everything and the word nothing. Asmaraj con Junifer mon Ploon agade non secule paaafways to other mun strukcha own haaf gud melondeys wisk u\z inna ho ho hold up vommnisch misky weay bu bulloon volt vamp dutrashank abla no.. //sd//f////wetr/t//g/g/g//g//ライブg/gs/dseropiti][][][425][34p56970]a]]a]a]adofifopoii-11111-----11110000010 10 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0

1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 0 10100100100//////23//30--0-2-34-#'[#[#;#[;#;'?/.,/ hhhd///ds===d sand 6 befoa hopns I looked info gauurgh bage trah ckksss peee ckckck eeeeng mmmm eeeeee owt und chuk eeeeng mi doun. Ah ah ah ahahahah I caaaaaandfsdfn held torumbsh before long I'll be yurong forhistro blak and I watch the bin men chucking the rubbish into the back of the lorry with awe while I hold my dad's hand. I sit in the living room holding a baddie from Biker Mice from Mars and a toy motorbike made of plastic that looks like toxic waste. I sit in assembly and use my imagination to escape. At night, staring at the glowing star stickers on the ceiling above my bunkbed, I glimpse a man with black hair writhing on a raised door in a dank cell being tortured by Mr. Blobby from the TV. I don't like it, so I try to push the thoughts in a different direction. I'm listening to my granddad tell me the joke about the Scoddish min howh who alwyz etz ceez samwichzzz ev ee nn thg he hates thammmmmm bloghran fahuthe hgald icuiperlu po235#//# fa#/#/#/'#'#2345/2///?/23.4#.2/////g/g/g/g/g///h/h/h/h/hh//h/h/hh//h/h/1=-=1==1-0-1-1-1--1-1-1110000011111000 1001 10 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1

0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 0 1 01001 0101 10 12-- 10 1-0--0 1-310249-=34004-535605=6788/////g/g//g/g/g/g//g/gggggggggg/////g//g/[[[[[]][[[hdfhuihhieho duo sa l latin swr iis t t t t t aa sf arrhjhj a aarrrghhh a arggrhga a sou eru peeeling p epepeelling pieeelinjg a change of hartyyy decisions to be made after ransacking Roman's arm, the peanut creature's effervescing laughter subsided. Roman gulped huge and heavy breaths of air, eyes trained onto the moon wider than they'd ever been. The pink peanut undid the straps around his limbs and peeled him off the torture device. Then the peanut hoisted him over its shoulder. Roman coughed a chunk of blood up, which the peanut beast caught in his free hand and threw into the square patch of moonlight behind him, before closing the door to the cell.

Cover Image Credit: Kissanime

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The Key To Ending Your First Draft Blues

Or at least getting through the next chapter with your hair intact
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Ah, the first draft. We’ve all been there as writers. The day we decide to turn a blank word document into a 70,000 word (or more) masterpiece. Or, at least, that’s always the aim. Often as first-time writers, we go into the experience blind, learning as we go, and never really knowing whether what we’re doing is right or wrong.

It can be frustrating at times, as most first drafts are a test of sanity. As somebody who had written ten first draft books (nearing eleven) in six years, I have had my fair share of ups and downs when it comes to first drafts.

My first book ever took me four years just to write it, I started at the age of sixteen and finished by the time I was twenty. A year later I had written another. I then wrote one in thirty days, and nowadays I write about three to four books a year.

My point is, there is no science to writing. It is all about learning how to do it, and finding the methods that suit you best. I just wish I could have had someone to tell me all of that when I started.

With that in mind, here are my five pieces of advice on how to write your first draft:

#5 Embrace the Terribleness

The first draft is always the worst version of any story. The sooner you accept it, the easier it is to move forward with your work. So you misspell a few words so bad that even Word can't help you. That shouldn't stop you from going with the flow. Your dialogue will feel hammier than a "Star Wars" film, but you'll clean it up the second time around. You're not expected to create a masterpiece on the first go, so just enjoy the ride.

#4 Suffer for your Art

Writing can be hard. I've said it enough times already, but it's true. You have to be prepared to suffer for it. The reason my first book took four years to write was because I didn't commit to it. The reason I wrote 80,000 words in thirty days was because I committed myself to write at least 1,000 words a day. Now I average 3,000 daily. Is it painful to force 3,000 words to the page every day? Yes, but that's what you have to do to get the draft finished.

#3 Take your Time

Now I know this goes against what I just said, but it's important that you go at the pace you want to. I was happier writing 1,000 words a day, but I was eighteen then. At twenty-three, I'll never get everything done going at 1,000 words a day. Commit yourself to writing every day, even if its only 200 words. Writing is a marathon, not a sprint. You'll get to the finishing line quicker if you jog a steady pace rather than adopting a sprint and rest mentality.

#2 Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff

Yes, it's important to remember what colour your character's hair is, which one is taller, and what weapon they are carrying. Although with that said, it is important to keep going forward. In my editing, I go over everything with a fine comb, often with a character profile at my side. Don't get bogged down giving every little detail the first time around, you'll have time for that later. The hardest thing is getting it down the first time.

#1 Keep the Story Going at All Costs

This kind of goes without saying, but it is by far the most important step for me. You have to keep moving forward. It doesn't matter if you have to use the biggest Deus ex machina to get your plot going again, you can always edit it away in the re-draft. I use a technique called automatic writing, which means that I don't plan every detail of a chapter. I simply write it as I go. This allows me to give my characters natural reactions as events often come as a surprise to me too.

Obviously it is good to have a rough idea of what is meant to happen, but as long as you can get your characters from A to B, then you are half way there. The other half will be polishing it to the point you can see your reflection.

Good luck, and happy writing.

Cover Image Credit: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Writer%27s_Block_I.jpg

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4 Steps To Writing a Haiku

It's Fun I Promise
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You've probably had to write a haiku for English sometime in your school career. You most likely found it boring, or difficult, or just plain stupid. I am going to try and show you a more fun way to write a haiku.

1. The Basics: What You Should Know

In case you don't know, a haiku is a Japanese poem that is only three lines long. It is usually taught that the syllables in each line should go 5-7-5. But really, as long as there are 17 syllables or less in the three lines, it's a haiku.

2. Write to Get a Reaction

When you write a haiku, you are aiming to get one of three reactions: Aaaahhh, aha!, or ha ha! For example...

Aaahhh: Laying in bed/dog next to me under blanket/my furry heater

Aha!: Life is too short to love people/who do not deserve/your whole heart

Ha ha!: I'm on the toilet/and my stomach drops/the roll is empty

3. Create an Image

In your writing, you want to create a new image in your readers mind with each line. Take my first haiku for example. I first talk about laying in bed. Then, I say there is a dog next to me under the blanket, so you picture a lump under the covers. In my last line, I call him a furry heater so you imagine a heater covered in fur. The image you create is more important than the syllables.

4. Performing

Lastly, you need to think about performing your haiku. As always, when you're speaking in front of a room of people, you need to project so the whole room can hear you and you need to make eye contact. Another thing to remember is the tone of your voice while you are saying your poem. Dramatic pauses can keep people on the edge of their seat, waiting for what you're going to say next. You also have to remember to be confident! And if you're not confident, fake it till you make it!

Cover Image Credit: Imgur

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