The continuing adventures of Grant and Dave, part 5

Hello all!

 

I’d apologise for my lack of updates, but it’s not like anyone actually reads this thing! I got pretty busy over my birthday week and then got lazy with writing. I also had my first difficulty with the plot of Grant and Dave’s adventures. Writing short scenes comes easily, but sometimes it’s hard to think them out of the mess I’ve put them in. Still, I’ve resolved to get back to work on that shortly, and to continue writing exercises until then. In the meantime, since I have a convenient backlog of story parts, heres the next one:

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It was like an obscene blend between a crunch and a splat. Grant had never hit a human with a range rover before, so he couldn’t tell if zombies sounded different. He wasn’t particularly keen on finding out, after the last hour. They’d had a surprisingly easy start to their trip north, getting to the car, removing its occupant, and starting it up without a hitch. Of course, starting the engine had sent every zombie in the areainto the now-familiar berserker state.

He’d only had his license for a few months before the outbreak, so Dave was in the driver’s seat. Behind the wheel of an armored slab of metal on wheels, the timidity of the past few weeks suddenly faded into a more familiar look. Grant had seen that look before a big game, or when someone started hitting on his girlfriend at a party. It was bloodlust, pure and simple. With a teeth-barring grin, he revved the engine.

“Let’s get out of this dump”

They hit their first zombie before they were all the way out of the carpark. Though, Grant reflected, hit seemed too tame a word. More like they’d rammed it. To be fair, the undead hadn’t exactly evaded their attack; the balding, 40ish man in a strained tracksuit had sprinted towards their front bumper, eyes red and practically foaming at the mouth. The force of the impact had all but removed the top half of the thing’s body, sending it flying off to their left. The glimpse he had gotten as it pirouetted past him still chilled Grant. The impact would have instantly killed any living human, but those eyes had held, not the stillness of death, not even stunned surprise. The rage in them had been undimmed, it’s gaze strumming fear through him even in its helplessness.

Since then, he’d kept expecting his brother to run out of steam, lose the brave front and draw inward again. In fact, it seemed with every zombie they hit, his brother became more complete. He would swerve back and forth as they headed for the highway north, going out of his way to run down the undead. Sometimes they went mercifully under the wheels. Other times they flew through the air. One had even managed to cling to the bumper for a good hundred meters, forcing Dave to break into a hard turn to throw it off. While the carnage he caused was gruesome, Grant didn’t feel nearly the total revulsion he would have expected. It seemed like whatever gave these things the power to strike fear with a gaze had also cut them off from life in every other way. He felt no tug of empathy, none of the connectedness he would have felt with even a stranger. Whatever primal sense bound living things together, these creatures had no place in it any longer. His attention was more taken up with his brother’s sudden transformation. He still wasn’t certain whether Dave had truly broken out of his catatonia or was simply building a brittle shell out of fury to cover his fear. Perhaps some of both. But even as he considered the possibility of his brother undergoing a psychotic break, Grant felt more at peace than he had in a while. It felt right, to sit here in the passenger seat, bouncing jokes off his brother while they drove to some unknowable destination. He settled in for a long journey.

“Better turn on the windscreen wipers, bro. You’ve still got a little zombie on my side”

>>>

 

This one was a little more light-hearted, which probably reflected the mood I was in. The story has definitely taken a darker twist recently. I was having a lot of fun writing it and I’m sure that will continue once I can get past the little sticking point I’ve gotten myself into.  Thanks for (imaginarily) reading!

The continuing adventures of Grant and Dave, part 4

Here’s the next part of the story! Part 4:

>>>

 

It was amazing how, even surrounded by shambling corpses, those glorious golden arches could still evoke the sensations of deliciously fried meat and cheese, giving promise to a pair of hungry men. Grant stared out through the clear glass doors of the small fast food joint, watching the undead curiously. This was the closest he’d been able to get to the enemy in its resting state. They seemed not to notice him, slowly moving around and bumping into one another, hardly resembling the rage-filled beasts they had encountered earlier that day. Absently he noted the small details that were reminiscent of their former lives. They all shared the pallor, the black-pupiled eyes, the shambling walk, but the one closest to him still wore a tattered backpack, and his long dreadlocks made Grant think of university campuses. Another, currently rooting around an open trash can, wore what would have been an expensive business suit and tie. Death was the great equaliser, he supposed.

He was distracted from his reverie by the smell of cooking meat, and his brother’s voice from the kitchen behind the brightly-colored counter, “Food’s up, come and get it!”

Venturing past cash registers that were still entreating him to try the latest developments in slushy technology, Grant found Dave beside a working hotplate, already starting on a long line of surprisingly appetising burgers.

“What, no happy meal? I heard this week you get a dinosaur toy and everything.” His brother ignored the sarcasm, and Grant picked up a burger anyway – he was too hungry to be picky.

“Just by thankful one of us had a part-time job through high-school,” Dave retorted when he’s finished inhaling his first creation, “God knows what sort of monstrosity you’d come up with, given free reign of this place.” He returned to eating almost before the words were out of his mouth.

“You’re an eating machine, you know that? Unbelievable” Grant shook his head, smiling despite himself as the second burger quickly went the way of the first. “Anyway, I’ve been thinking,” he continued after he finished his own meal, “This city’s too restrictive. We got lucky getting here across the rooftops, but we can’t move like that forever.”

“So, you want to what, go bush? How are we going to make it out of the city, if we can’t even cross the street without starting a riot?” Dave’s resistance was only token, Grant could tell he’d come to a similar conclusion.

“We do whatever’s necessary,” Grant declared, trying to keep a positive tone as he considered the riskiness of his plan, “I saw a four wheel drive in the car park outside with the door open, looks like the keys still might be in it. How do you feel about going motorised?” He chose not to mention that the keys were still attached to their former owner, who’d been struggling against her seatbelt when he’d noticed her.

Dave’s eyes lit up, “I wonder if these things can survive being run over by a four wheeler.” He chewed silently for a moment, looking contemplative.

Grant decided to let his brother finish his meal before filling him in on the finer points of the plan, ”Only one way to find out, right?”

>>>

The continuing adventures of Grant and Dave, part 3

I’ve been pretty slack updating this blog it seems! Mostly I’ve just been busy with other things. The writing exercises are going well when I have time for them, but a lot of my writing at the moment is continuing the story I started in my last post. With that in mind, I thought I’d post it here in segments so as to keep this space busy until I have more time on my hands. As before, words in bold represent the ten keywords at the CCC.

Part 3:

Dave hadn’t been happy when Grant had revealed his big plan for crossing the zombie-filled street. Not that Grant himself was ecstatic over the idea, but he tried to keep a positive outlook on life, even post-apocolypse. That and they didn’t have a choice. His brother stood behind him, steadying his legs as he leaned out the window to hook two lengths of chain over the electric cable that lead out over the massed undead below.

“Remind me again why this is a better idea than, oh, say, growing wings and flying away?” Dave grumbled behind him, shifting his weight to keep them both stable.

Grant cursed mentally as the distraction nearly caused him to let one of the chains slip. “The cable’s the only way we’re getting out, and it’s too far to crawl. The other side’s attached a little lower, so if we use the chains as a flying fox, we should make it most of the way across before we have to push ourselves along.”

Dave fell silent in grim concentration as he clambered up onto the window sill behind his brother, feet spread wide to allow them both room to stand as he took the ends of the second set of chains. It might have made more sense to cross one at a time and spread their weight out, but after what they’d been through, neither brother wanted to risk being separated if something went wrong. They would put all their eggs in one basket, and hope for the best.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing, little brother,” Grant heard as he tried not to look down, gripping his chains tight.

“Just imagine you’re at summer camp” He shot back over his shoulder, “You never had a problem there.”

Of course, the luminous blue waters of Lake Tahoe in summer were a lot less likely to see a bomb-diving 21-year old as a snack. Still, there was no point in delaying any longer.

“Let’s go!” He yelled as he leapt forward into emptiness.

His hair cascaded backwards in a stream of bronze as the warm midday air suddenly whipped against his face. The rush of speed exhilerated him, and a small part of his mind marvelled that he still had the potential to feel such an emotion. He had all of a second to enjoy it before totalchaos broke loose below.

The moment the jangling, scraping noise of chains sliding down electrical cabling reached the masses below, they reacted with maniacal fury. Faces that had been blankly starring upwards at them now twisted into rage, and the masses that had been loosely shuffling around suddenly rushed to pack the space beneath his feet. Grant’s heart froze in terror, and as an errant twist of the chains showed him a glimpse of his brother, he know he wasn’t alone.

Looking ahead again, his terror at the display turned to fear for their lives. While the cable had started two stories above ground level, their combined weight was pulling it down into a dip that would end at least 30 feet short of the other side. Worse, a glimpse below showed him that the undead were starting to climb on top of one another in an effort to reach the meat being dangling above them. He could only close his eyes and pray as he slid downwards towards the greedy hands below. He felt himself jerk to a stop as he hit the end of the line, then grunted as Dave’s larger form hit him in the back, twisting them both around and bringing them to a standstill.

The sudden absence of sound felt physical. As soon as the chains went silent, the noise from below dissipated. Looking down, his eyes were drawn to the upmost zombie on the flesh-pile below them. Almost within reaching distance, the malicious light had left its eyes, and as Grant watched, it stumbled dumbly back towards earth, as if forgetting its purpose all together. Barely able to believe it, Grant rattled his chains together experimentally. In the moment before he dampened them, the vicious light again filled the eyes of the undead below.

“I’m beginning to see a trend here” He murmured absently to his brother, still panting behind him.

“If you mean that noise seems to royally piss them off, I see it too” came the winded reply.

“It certainly seems like more than happenstance. Are you alright? We’re going to have to abandon the chains and crawl the rest of the way up to that window if we want to avoid starting another zombie mosh pit underneath us” Grant quipped, letting his usual humour hide the undertones of true concern.

“It’s gonna be slow going” was the only reply.

“Well, unless you made a date with one of the lovely ladies in rags down there, we’re not exactly on a tight schedule” He grinned, always willing to take a dig at his brother’s habit of having a new girlfriend every month.

“Get moving, short stuff, before I decide to see how well you hold on while being kicked in the ass.” The taunt was a familiar one, and the friendliness in the mocking tone was comforting.

“Whatever you say, big guy. First one there gets the bed of their choice”

“Oh goodie”

>>>

Stay tuned for further updates.

Zombie apocalypse in ten words or less

Hello, dear readers!

For the past few days I’ve been channeling my writing through the wonderful folks at the creative copy challenge, where ten words are posted each Monday and Thursday, and the challenge is to form a comprehensive short story around them. I first tried it last Thursday, with this little zombie-themed submission, with the bolded words representing the ten key words that must be included:

They were totally wedged in here, a completely last ditch gambit. They’d been on the run ever since the undead horde had reached Sydney and forced them out of their last safehouse. Now he knelt in front of a padlocked door at the end of a slanted back-alley, his brother watching his back with their father’s old shotgun. The sunset mottled the clouds with an unholy cerise glow, illuminating a street devoid of movement, for the moment. The stillness wouldn’t last long, Grant thought as he worked. The undead seemed to be able to sense them wherever they ran, even bereft of consciousness as they were. His hands were raw from falling on gravel earlier, and it wasn’t making his task any easier. He was trying desperately to pick the lock on what appeared to be the back of a warehouse. If they could get inside, they might be able to sleep safe for the first time in days, but his tools were slipping in his grip as the lock resisted all manipulation. He’d kill for a red bull, or even some coffee – anything with caffeine in it. Hell, he already had. Arching his back for a moment to relieve the tension, he went back to work, trying desperately to force patience into his increasingly panicked motions. He tried to ignore his brother’s whispered warning as slowly moving shadows slanted across the alley’s entrance.

After some very supportive feedback from the great community there, I figured I’d try continuing the story this Monday. Of course, it wasn’t so easy when today’s words were all very distinctly circus themed:

Trapeze
Spectacular
Magician
Unicycle
Spandex
Mysterious
Innovation
Originality
Totem
Jugglers

Still, I really wanted to continue the story of the two brothers, so I did my best to work them all in unobtrusively to the next instalment:

-

Grant didn’t exactly feel spectacular after a night spent nestled into old bags of cement mix, but at least his eyes could focus after a few hours of sleep. Even if it was interrupted by the relentless moaning coming from outside the broken glass of the old warehouse windows. He allowed himself a momentary grin, thinking back to the night before. He’d felt like a magician when the old deadbolt had finally given way to his nimble fingers. He’d pulled Dave into the darkness and slammed the iron door behind them, the mustiness in the air seeming inviting after days spent smelling rot and decay.

He looked around now in the dim morning light, taking in crumbling brick walls, empty shipping pallets, and discarded tools. Neither of them had had the energy to check the place out last night, past ensuring there were no undead surprises in the closets. Looking around the wide open space, he didn’t see anything mysterious about it. Certainly no food, and they were getting low. They couldn’t stay here long. Unfortunately, getting out might be harder than getting in, and that certainly wasn’t a cakewalk. Walking toward the daylight let in by the empty windows, he allowed himself to hear the perpetual moaning that he’d unconsciously learned to tune out. One look out past the broken glass confirmed what he already knew. They were waiting. Eyes filled with inky black pupils turned unerringly upwards, staring at his head like jugglers eager to catch that last spinning ball. He shuddered slightly and pulled his head abruptly back inside. You’d think you’d get used to that stare, but it seemed like every one of them carried the originality of fear in that empty gaze. Each of them struck him a little differently, like a hammer chiming a bell at a new angle. He preferred not to think about it.

Turning to his brother’s form, stirring on the bed he’d made from a wooden pallet, Grant decided it was time to move.

“Ready to face a glorious morning in the sunny suburbs, brother dear?” He queried, his customary acid sarcasm serving to cover the queasiness he felt, “Our adoring fans are waiting for us to make an appearance, and I know you hate to disappoint.”

He was rewarded with a shadow of his older brother’s confident and winning smile. “You know me too well, little man, but what can I say. The people, they love me, alive or dead. So, how are you gonna get us out of this dump, since you got us in here in the first place?”

It felt good to see Dave tease him again, but he couldn’t help but note the tone of entreaty in the last question. It was strange for Grant to be the one calling the shots now, and he wasn’t entirely sure when the dynamic between them had shifted. His older brother had been popular all his life, a natural born leader, and, as he said, people loved him. Grant hadn’t resented him for it – he’d looked up to his older brother, but had been content with more solitary pursuits, learning to open locks, climb rock walls, and vault over obstacles. He’d always joked that it might save his life someday, but he hadn’t expected to be proven right like this. Whatever the reason, his confident and outgoing brother had grown more quiet and passive the longer they were on the run, while Grant had thrived, in his own way, under the pressure.

“Come on over here,” he motioned his brother to follow as he walked back towards the windows, steeling himself not to look down.

“I’m not sure staring at the view is going to help us get out of this mess, little brother” came the reply from behind him.

“Come on, brother dear, show a little innovation,” Grant replied wickedly, “After all, necessity is the mother of invention.” As he spoke, he pointed up to what he’d noticed earlier. There was a power line running out over the street below them, from just above the gaping windows to a building on the other side. “With the power out pretty much everywhere we’ve been, I’d say it’s safe to cross.”

“What do you want to do, ride across it on a unicycle? That’s a hell of a long way to crawl, and in case you haven’t noticed, I spent the last few years playing football – I’m not a trapeze artist like you.” The unmistakable quavering of fear was spreading through his older brother’s voice.

“I bet you’d look dashing in spandex though,” Grant’s mockery was almost automatic as he searched for a way to reassure his stricken-looking role model. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan. I saw something in one of those storage cabinets we can use – we did it all the time in gym.”

“If you say so, short stuff – lead the way.” A flicker of confidence crept back into Dave’s voice at his assurance.

Grant tried to focus on that confidence as his brother followed him away from the windows. Dave’s hand gripped his shoulder a little too tightly, as though he were a totem that would keep them safe if he only stayed close enough. He hoped his brother’s trust wasn’t misplaced.

-

This one turned out quite a bit longer, but I’m pretty happy with the results. I’m going to continue working on writing in general each day of course, but I think I might try to continue this story each Monday and Thursday. It’ll give me practice developing plot and characters past the single scene short stories I’ve been producing thus far.

On being an organization freak

Hi there, all my imaginary readers! I hope you’re all having wonderful imaginary lives! As you can possibly tell, I’m in rather a good mood, because my singing practice just now got physical enough to get the endorphins pumping plentifully. My exuberance isn’t entirely hormone generated though, as I’m feeling rather on top of things at the moment, which always makes me happy. You see, I’m an organization freak. Not so much organizing my physical workspace, but definitely my digital and mental workspace. Because I’m actively working on a large number of pursuits at the moment, it’s easy for me to get swamped, losing track of where I am with various projects. And when I don’t know what needs to be done next, it makes me unhappy on a very deep level. Fortunately, organizing things helps allay that unhappiness.

For instance, when I decided I wanted to start writing each day, I knew immediately it couldn’t be on my main laptop. It’s just not clean enough, folders everywhere, random software installed all over the place, games, music, and videos cluttering it up. Apart from the sheer distraction of it, the writing just wouldn’t feel neat and tidy in my mental list of pursuits. So instead I pulled my tiny EEE PC out of retirement and stripped it of everything except what it needed to run Darkroom, and turned that into my writing laptop. Now I never touch that laptop unless I’m about to write, and so it’s much easier to keep track of where I’m at with my writing.

I’m juggling a lot of things though; guitar, singing, writing, work, PhD research, cooking, reading, etc. I can’t allocate separate laptops to all of them! So I recently spent an hour or two laying out a simple goal tracking document breaking everything I’m doing down into categories with my goals and what I need to do to achieve them. Having it all written out on paper (well, on my iPad) set my mind at ease; before I wrote it down I had to keep it all in my head, juggling it around constantly. Now I can just refer to my goal sheet to make sure I’m keeping up with everything. I’ve used this tactic many times through university, and it’s always been extremely helpful in getting me motivated and relieving my stress.

So I guess the take home message for today is that maybe you too could try writing out your goals and tasks if you’re feeling overwhelmed. Trite advice, perhaps, but look at me, helping you, dear reader! How far we’ve come.

Until next time, I’ll be sorting my iTunes library into obsessive neatness (A challenging task, but far more rewarding than it really should be).

Yours Truly,

The Writer

Taking the first steps

Hello, internet denizens!

I’m starting this blog to chronicle my attempt to reach my dream of being a professional writer. All my life I’ve been an avid reader and have greatly enjoyed writing. I’ve been lucky enough to receive encouragement from teachers and family members, and so I’ve always thought that “someday” I’d write in some capacity. Over the past few years however, I’ve let “someday” become further and further away. Partly I was just focused on finishing my degree (a Bachelor of Psychological Science), and partly it was because I was writing so many reports, thesis papers, and essays. But I’m a graduate now, and while I’m planning on starting a PhD next year, I’ve had time recently to really think about what I want to do with my life. I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s no time like the present to start on the path to my dream. My ultimate goal is to someday become a published novelist, and this blog will be a way to record that journey from the start.

At first I won’t be publishing too many pieces of writing, as I’m focusing on getting the tap flowing, so to speak, rather than producing well crafted works of fiction. Since I tend to approach new pursuits in an orderly fashion, I’ll be reading, and thus reviewing, a fairly large number of “how-to-write” books. I’ll also possibly review some of the novels I’m reading, and give updates on my progress. After a while, I’ll hopefully have some substantial written pieces to offer. Of course, for a long while very few people will read this blog, as I won’t be telling many of my friends and family about it, but that’s kind of the point. I’m hoping it will let me practice and share my journey without inviting too many naysayers.

Thanks for reading, I hope to keep this blog going strong for quite a while.