i'm going to have to stop putting actual thought into these stories before i start writing them, because i really won't cope writing four-hour epics every day for much longer on the arboreal and extraplanetary habits of marsupials, part ii

I have no idea how you'll keep it up. But I have massive respect for you.

hey ruz remember how i said i'd read all those classic sci-fi books before i met you? i figured i'd write one instead and it would even out

Day 452 The men at the front discovered checkers, playing a few games in-between short and highly concentrated exchanges of a more dangerous correspondence. The set had been looted from an enemy soldier who had, for whatever inexplicable reason, launched himself from the opposing barricades and charged the fifty-strong camp in a terribly ill-considered advance. His name, according to the papers similarly stowed on his person, was Henry Digeson, and by the letters folded into his pocket he had married well and bore three children. ‘Such a shame,’ Rudiger had said, re-folding the letters and placing them in his own pocket. ‘No doubt he was an important character over the ridge. I wonder what madness lead him to this death charge?’ ‘I couldn’t hazard a guess,’ Paul replied. ‘Who’s up for a game of checkers?’ Meanwhile those in command, separated from the excitement by three rows of bored, restless soldiers, played their own games of chance. Only their games involved pieces more weighty, more expensive than the simple plastic coins of the soldiers’ – no, their pieces were of gold and silver, and the board was pure mahogany. ‘I suppose we should advance tomorrow,’ Colonel Rodderberry sighed, moving a piece onto the final row of the board. ‘King me.’ ‘You expect promotion?’ Viscount Stachenry yawned. ‘Be patient. I expect it shall be another week before we are able to move.’ ‘What a bore this is,’ Rodderberry went on. ‘Here I thought each day would bring with it battles anew and enemies afresh. But the truth is their patience outgrows ours and their men take time to replenish. But that we could skip over this tedium! The messengers don’t bring news of victory but orders for more tea and scones, or trivial updates regarding weather or the fashions of the day.’ ‘My lord,’ a messenger cried, running into the tent. ‘The enemy have established laissev-faire models of economics!’ ‘Oh, good,’ Rodderberry said. ‘Pretty soon they won’t have need for our bullets.’ ‘Oh, very good, my lord,’ the messenger nodded. ‘Very droll. Wouldn’t you say, Viscount?’ But the Viscount had been so taken by Rodderberry’s quip that he had taken too large a swig of the mead, and by now, choking on the hilarity of it, had turned quite a regal shade of blue. ‘Oh, bloody hell,’ Rodderberry spat. ‘Why does this keep happening?’ At that moment, a stray bullet entered the side of the tent and entered his skull. ‘My lord?’ asked the messenger, but before he could further inquire, he fell dead due to massive and unprovoked cranial hemorrhage. Meanwhile, back at the front, the men continued to play checkers while expounding upon their views of the various forms of governments continually warring against each other for little apparent purpose, at the whim of some delusional god.

And all the while, women died in childbirth.

Day 453 The messenger reported that, astonishingly, almost exactly 50% of the population at home had died. Half the command post was surprised.

I'm amazed no one else has taken this opportunity yet. The D20 Event Plot Determiner Board Roll a twenty sided dice to determine your course of action! Roll multiple times for important moments or characters! 1. Romance. Endeavour to hook this character up with any other character who rolled a Romance. Ignore gender and sexuality, this is drama we’re dealing with! 2. Argument. Have this character argue with another over any subject (roll again to determine the cause. If you roll another 2, just have them rant and rave unintelligibly). 3. They’re a robot. But don’t let this get in the way of Romance. 4. They’re gay. But don’t let this get in the way of Romance. 5. They’re a gay robot. This usually leads to Argument with 3s and 4s. 6. Rival. Like Argument, but far more dramatic and persistent. 7. Die. The character dies. Roll again to determine why. 8. EVIL CYBORG NEMESIS FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION (fuck yeah!) 9. Amnesia. Roll again- the character takes on this aspect but has no knowledge of it. Roll again to determine why. 10. Hallucination. Roll again- the character takes on this aspect but it’s not real. OR IS IT?! 11. Really Good. This character is really good at something. Point this out at all times to keep them well balanced and interesting. 12. Really Bad. This character is really bad at something. Point this out at all times to keep them well balanced and interesting. 13. Traitor. This character is betraying or will be betraying the others to the antagonist. If you roll this for the antagonist, make them especially antagonistic. If the antagonist is Crazy, have them betray themselves. 14. Redeemed. This character will do something good suddenly and inexplicably to undo all the bad they’ve done. If you roll this for a good character, make them a Traitor or Crazy so they get the chance to do some bad to undo. 15. Crazy. This character just behaves randomly, and usually badly. 16. Gritty. This character is a murderer or rapist or something. 17. BADASS MOTHERFUCKER WITH A DESERT EAGLE: REVENGE ASSASSIN 18. Conspiracy. This person is not what they appear to be (i.e., Robot, Crazy, or Crazy Gay Hallucination Robot). 19. TWIST. Roll twice and reveal these aspects at the very last second. 20. Comedy. The character is a comedy character. Make sure to inject humour into everything they do and to have other characters laugh with or at them every few paragraphs. Examples! (2, 7, 9) Jim Gray has an Argument because he finds out that he’s Dead but had Amnesia about it. (16, 7, 5) Liz Flannery is a Gritty murder-rapist but she Dies because she’s a Gay Robot.

I always roll 17s.

Bah, my next one was (3, 11, 20) - a Robot that's Really Good at making people laugh. Fuck that shit, those bastards are everywhere in SF.

If the antagonist is Crazy, have them betray themselves. I dunno why, but this made me laugh a good deal.

Okay, writing exercise time. I just used a number generator to get 3 numbers (no 20-sided dice on me, sadly) and got (12, 5, 8) - A Gay Robot Evil Cyborg Nemesis Who is Really Bad at Something. I will be writing this today and posting it up for critique.

Legendary.

So my ridiculously huge monitor arrived today. I can't really imagine a situation where I'd need a 22" widescreen display, but dammit I'd better be prepared. Also, it's rotatable, which is actually pretty handy for writing or coding or just reading the internet. I've also taken to writing on my old Alphasmart 2000. It's like a typewriter in that you can do literally nothing else but type, and the consumables are fairly cheap (three hundred hours of battery life off of three AA batteries), but you get all the advantages of word processing in that you can stick the results into a computer. Prior to using it my best single day word count this year was around 1600 words, now I'm up around 2,200. I think it's the lack of a wordcount that really helps.

Those are some images. I liked the bleeding seawater and twisted marble. Normally I avoid anything that references war trauma in any way. Played out. But this was pretty great.

Okay, bear in mind that this is only my first draft and a short sample of my awesome day-to-day epic robot chronicle, but it's a start. Thanks to Edcrab for the tools necessary to make something truly great. Code: ROMO THE CYBORG ROBOT HAS RELATIONSHIP PROBLEMS "You're going to see him again, aren't you?" Her brown hair spilled across the rumpled sheets. She tossed her head and glared at him. But he was busy buttoning his shirt and didn't notice the angry stare. Or at least pretended not to. "I have to. He's my nemesis. I hate him." His hand sorted through the junk on the dresser swiftly, mechanically, lifting his wallet and car keys from the mess. "I wonder sometimes," she snipped.         He whipped around and asked, too loudly, "What's that supposed to mean?"         "It means you spend more time jumping across dimensions trying to kill him than you do making love to me! It means you're obsessed with him!" She realized she was yelling again and on the verge of tears. Softer, she said, "It means I think you care more about him more than you do me."         "That's ridiculous," he said quickly. But he wasn't so sure. Not anymore. "Besides, can you really call what we do 'making love'? You're flesh and bone, and my innards are powered by an advanced system of pneumatic pumps and pistons. Sure, it's great for you. But what good does it do me?" He could feel his anger chip flaring again and took a breath (not that he needed it, since he was a pale mechanical imitation of humanity). "I have to go." His voice was once more without emotion.         "Romo, wait..." Tears stood in her eyes but she refused to cry.         "Wait? You think he'll wait? He's out there right now, in some parallel dimension, saving worlds and doing good! And I have to kill him! Because I'm just a robot cyborg, and that's what I was built to do!" He hated this situation, like he was on trial. What was he supposed to do? He had been implanted with one simple goal – to kill Captain Vance Allen, General of the United Galactic Society.         But after nearly a decade of chasing Allen across the galaxies and dimensions, he wasn't so sure of his goal anymore. Every time Romo cornered the captain and prepared to deliver the death blow with one of his dozen laser pods, or his titaniblade or bloodmelter, something stopped him. He would stare into Vance's soft brown eyes, and steal glimpses of his rippling physique through his battle-torn military shirt. He would leave the room and order his henchmen to kill Allen, knowing full well the scrappy captain would find a way out. Or he would invent some reason to imprison Vance with his crew and give them just enough time to formulate an all-too-convenient escape plan.         She was weeping openly now. "Just...just tell me you'll be back. That's all I need."         Without a word, Romo the robot walked out of her life forever.        He had not been programmed to love, but Romo loved Captain Vance Allen just the same. He felt bad for the girl – or at least as bad as a murderous robot with human skin grafted to him which technically also made him a cyborg could feel – but he couldn't deny his feelings anymore. Romo was gay for Vance Allen. And although he had failed miserably as a cyborg nemesis, he had plans to become a huge success as the gay robot lover of the human space hero. Crits welcome!

I love you.

I think you should have had at least a bit set during the love making. I mean, come on - pistons? So much potential! And, you know, puns. Everybody loves puns. His lovemaking should have been mechanical, and maybe involved oils.

This is everything I ever wanted in a novel. Where and when can I buy it? *blows a kiss Iriah's way* You can read the rough draft when I get around to writing it on my Yahoo! Groups page. And then you can comment and tell me what you like/don't like/think I should change. hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahah

I've found that reading his threads are like looking at a train wreck. I want to look away from the gore and throw up... but I keep peeking back for more.

This is everything I ever wanted in a novel. Where and when can I buy it? *blows a kiss Iriah's way* You can read the rough draft when I get around to writing it on my Yahoo! Groups page. And then you can comment and tell me what you like/don't like/think I should change. hahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahahahah Just imagine him without a shirt. Oh wait, you don't have to imagine it.

Just imagine him without a shirt. Oh wait, you don't have to imagine it. It's what gets me through lonely nights on the cold prairies.

You know, I almost feel bad for him, and then he posts this: I know interacting with you guys on this forum has increased my desire to try out this method. And then I don't feel so bad.

Hey guys, as you know, I want to join the NBA. I played a few games a while ago. You guys watched, told me that I needed improvement, and gave me advice on how to improve. But instead of practising, I have decided to plan the route from the house that I will buy in Beverley Hills when I get that fat draft cheque to the stadium. Planning this route will save me some time in the mornings. You guys can look over my route and tell me where I can save time, OK? Those are some images. I liked the bleeding seawater and twisted marble. Normally I avoid anything that references war trauma in any way. Played out. But this was pretty great. Thanks dude. It was really just a long, elaborate in-joke, but I had fun writing it.

I think you should have had at least a bit set during the love making. I mean, come on - pistons? So much potential! And, you know, puns. Everybody loves puns. His lovemaking should have been mechanical, and maybe involved oils. I thought about it, but I don't think I'm ready to go there just yet.

(19, [8, 10] 6, 6) Man, they're like co-ordinates. Co-ordinates to literary greatness. So Bob has a really, really strong rivalry going with an evil cyborg nemesis that actually turns out to be a hallucination. ...there's a glimmer of a good idea in there somewhere. THIS WAS NOT THE PLAN! And I must be the only person who's convinced that Sky isn't all that he seems. I refuse to believe he's that oblivious.