Ooooo I've gone all serious recently. First I post that ridiculous 'My Girl' piece on the General Fiction page (I'd been smoking... depression set in), and now I am writing a dark fantasy, which is also depressing but likely to have a more uplifting ending which is completely unusual for me. (I feel killing off the main character makes it better and effective usually)
Well some of you may have read my post on writing a prologue and it was for this project, but I just ended up turning it into a Chapter. I think maybe I thought about it too much, but at the moment what I have written is so spiffingly good I might actually make myself a medal out of card and glue. I am not telling you a thing about it. I am sure you are all incredibly jealous by that...... you are I can tell.
I feel like I am having too many ideas spread among a mass array of genres. Hell, I even wrote the opening screenplay for a random romantic comedy based on an event that happened to one of my mates. (I won't go into details... but it was hilarious... and he wasn't too happy I'd done it). Yes so my head is currently bursting with stuff... I'm just so amazingly imaginative, guys (you better detect the sarcasm). I amaze even myself sometimes. Now for instance. (I've been drinking)
Anyway, I'll catch you all later, not that I've built up enough of a friendly relationship with any of you to actually use that phrase, but hell, I'm feeling rebel-ish.
...I've finally got a bloomin' job!
Honestly this bloody town I live in is useless for jobs. I applied absolutely everywhere, just looking for something to give me some money before I go to University in September. But no, these miserable Yorkshire nutters didn't reply did they!
Nevertheless, its May, and since taking a year out before University this year last July, I've done bugger all... except write of course. I'd probably be dead by now if I didn't have a pen and the back of an old work folder to write on. Its nothing much, I'm expecting minimum wage, but who cares! I can actually go ahead and buy all the things I've wanted recently... and there's been a hell of a lot... mainly video games.
Anyway, yes, all has been good these last 2 months. My mother bought me some muffins was an awesome highlight for last month, my University accepted me earlier in the year, and one of my friends actually asked me to go out on the piss for once. Ah how irresponsible that was. And now I've got a job!
Party time people!
Science Fiction and Humour aren't touched upon often, but where it has been used its always been to massively brilliant effect in my opinion. Terry Pratchett wrote an endless amount of books, most of which are not only entertaining for adults but children as well. Douglas Adams took the art of Science Fiction massively far with the Hithhiker's series, combining general randomness with pure genius.
Although I may not even be a smidge on the underpants of this genre, I intend to follow in their footsteps to become another one in the small list of people to write Comedy Sci-Fi. The only problem is my organisation.
These last few months I've written bits and pieces for the book. I've got the general plotline sorted, its just linking it altogether. Documents and bits of paper are flying all over the place in my house at the moment, not having a clue where the hell they are or what destination they're supposed to be going. Character profiles are absolutely massove as I tend to delve way to deep into their personality, even their opinions on drugs and politics which pretty much will play no part in the storyline are outlined just in case. You never know with writing what you're going to think up next.
I've got randomly made up alien races from all corners of the Universe, even though we haven't got a clue where any of those corners are. Equipment used, weapons, toilet facilities, ship designs. I've thought of everything! I just hope I'll be able to use all this.
So, as you can probably tell, I'm completely disorganised, but what I have written is pretty good I feel, combining the realism of today's Universe with a genuine 'could happen' evolution of man which is shielded from our race's eyes.
Want more? I wouldn't expect so, but I'll be posting here nevertheless. Stay tuned, and you may be able to nick my plot, even though it will probably turn out to be as irrelevant and ridiculous as Britney Spears appearing in a period drama.
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