Conquer Club

Dancing Mustard wrote:Registered ages back, getting pretty excited about it all now.

Also, if anybody can find the flagrant troll threads I posted in their forums, then I'll gift you five self-respect points.

InkL0sed wrote:Oh god, so many forums, so many possibilies.

Dancing Mustard wrote: So to get this back on topic, dear other participants, what are you thinking of writing about this month?

InkL0sed wrote:Last year I did what is known a "dare novel". I took as many dares as I could and tried to tie them into a coherent plot.

I ended up with a pedophile hero, stalking a severely dysfunctional couple who had adopted his biological son, who believes himself to be a prophet. The hero turns out to be an alien, his son actually has super powers, and in the mean time an evil corporation called Spork Nation is plotting to take over the world, with the help of rival aliens. In a few words.

DM wrote:OMG I HAS A BIG HEAD NOW I GET TO MAKE THIS THREAD. ;D

Anyway, it's NaNo season. We're all plotting.
But that doesn't mean our muses want to help us out.
And this is where we yell at them.
It's also where we yell at our MCs for being morbidly stupid. XD

D-cha shall start with...

Dear Mercado,
JESUS *BLEEPIN* CHRIST MAN, WHAT IS YOUR *BLEEPIN* DEAL?!
Okay, had to get that off my chest.
But srs bsns, mate. First you go without giving me any ideas whatsoever, and then you give me inspiration for four stories at once?!
How do you expect me to pick?!
I hate you. Remind me for Screnzy! '09 to use Zasahara as my muse.
Notlove, DM
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Synopsis: Hotel Califorina
On a dark desert highway;
that’s now an interstate
People drive into the fog;
only to meet their fate.
In shadows of dream land;
there the vampires hide;
Werewolves roam the starless night;
while they hide inside.

Excerpt: Hotel Califorina
It was a dark moonless midnight and the Interstate was barren of traffic as he drove home from yet another important political event just barely a week before the people would go to the polls to decide if he was worthy to replace a person who they had previously elected, not once, but several times. Many had tried, of course, but none had succeeded. The polls still showed him behind, but he was full of hope.
But all that was, for the moment, behind him as he drove the lonely Interstate in near silence in his hybrid car. It was his wife and his two lovely daughters that were in his mind at the moment; the reason he was driving home as opposed to staying overnight at some two-bit cheep hotel along the way. Elections were important, he realized, but family is forever. It was the one constant in a stormy sea of life, the one true port of safety in an ocean of storms, because there was someone who he could always count on no matter what, and she knew the same was true with him.
It was this thought that kept him from thinking about the political event that he was driving from, the complete desolation of the Interstate before him, nestled on the sloping mountains. There were no cars driving alongside him and no cars coming towards him on the other side of the Interstate. There were even no lights along the way. It was truly a dark highway, and with the exception of himself, completely deserted.
At first, he failed to notice the fog. Wisps of fog started to dance around his headlights until they became thicker and thicker. With his mind focused on his family it was easy to miss the obvious questions. Where did the fog roll in from? Why is there fog this far inland? Still the fog got thicker and thicker. He lowered his headlights from high beam to low beam and still the fog became thicker. He had heard the expression “as thick as pea soup” but never experienced actually driving in the stuff. It was getting hard to even see the lines on the asphalt pavement before him. He knew he had to pull over, before he drove off the road at a high rate of speed.
Pulling over to a reasonable spot on the breakdown lane, he activated his emergency flashers, wondering how effective they would be in this thick deep fog. Soon all was quiet, as his engine shut itself completely off. He knew that the engine would restart itself long before the battery would run out. The lights constantly blinking in the fog as silence reigned everywhere. Soon he started nodding his head; then he fell asleep.

spurgistan wrote:I don't need no guldanged society telling me when to write. My GPA is proof of that.

tzor wrote:

spurgistan wrote:I don't need no guldanged society telling me when to write. My GPA is proof of that.

Bah, humbug! You couldn't write crap if you wanted to ... your GPA is proof of that. You can't write 1667 crappy words a day for 30 days straight.

I on the other hand can write 2500+ words a day that make "it was a dark and stromy night" seem good.