Chapter Three: Posted to CC

Chapter Three has been posted to CC and should be up next crit period!

Challenge Success: Two Thousand in Two Days

I finished writing tonight (Sunday) at about 10:30 with 2,110 words for the 48 hours since Friday night. That's right. Just an average weekend with school on both sides, and I did it. This is my biggest writing achievement ever.

I have semi-begun Chapter Five, having written the first paragraph, but need to finish Chapter Four before I continue with it. When Chapter Four is finished it will be somewhere just over 3,000 words.

I'm still working on getting Chapter Three onto CC, so please look forward to that.

Challenge Update: Two Thousand in Two Days

It is currently 10:50pm on Saturday night. I have written just over 1,100 words since I began last night.

Since the challenge is called "Two Thousand in Two Days", and I was only able to start last night due to school, it is only fair that the challenge is extended to Sunday night. That's 48 hours since I began.

So I am fairly on track. Within the next 24 hours I will post on the outcome.

Thank you so much for your support.

Challenge: Two Thousand in Two Days

Starting now and ending tomorrow night, I challenge myself to write 2,000 words. Whether I sleep or not is irrelevant. I will be taking many breaks throughout, splitting the challenge into sections so I don't go insane. Or should I say insaner than I already am?

A Look Back [Year Eight]: The Ugly Duckling (The True Story)

I wrote this poem three years ago in Year Eight for an assignment. It is a parody of The Ugly Duckling. Read to the end for a unique twist!
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RYAN SULLIVAN - BHA IS-FO LINLAVUE

The Ugly Duckling (The True Story)

Once a long long time ago

A mother duck was feeling low

The mother duck had laid her eggs

But half of them looked just like kegs!

One day the eggs began to hatch

They cracked and cracked

And all ten matched


One hadn't hatched and it was big

And looked different

Like a fig

The mother thought

"Oh me! Oh my!

"I guess this duck will never fly!"


Next day she came back to her lair

To her dismay

It wasn't there


He ran and ran for all his luck

She couldn't catch him

She was just a duck


He ran and ran till he was calm

Eventually he came to a farm

He was caught in a net

And came out of the wet

And landed in an old woman's palm


"I am going to cut you and slice you

"And mangle you into pieces!

"Then I will share you with all of my nieces!"


He was locked in a pen

With a hare and a hen

And soon it was night

And he was in fright


"Run!" said the hare, "With all your luck

She can't catch you, you lucky duck!"

"If you don't," the hen said

"She will chop off your head!

"And blood always makes me chuck"


So off went the lock

With nought but a knock

Away from the hen

Away from the pen


While the duck ran he also thought

"Oh why, oh why is life so short?

Oh why, oh why must all things die?

Oh, how I wish that I could fly!"


He was alone

Out on his own

And didn't know where to go

He saw a big light

Which shone very bright

But what it was he didn't know


The closer it came

The less it looked tame

And suddenly out went the light

He heard a door close

And that's when he froze

For he couldn't see much in the night


He was put in a sack

And thrown in the back

And the air in there was very tight

He gasped for his breath

On the verge of death

And that's when he noticed his plight


"I have been worked like a hound

"I thought they were very profound

"I'll chop off their heads

"The hare will be dead

"And the hen will be running around!"


The car stopped

The engine hopped

The duckling leaped onto the floor

The keys were turned

The engine churned

And the car drove on ever more


While he was sitting in the back

The duckling quacked and quacked

"Shut up, duck

"You're out of luck

"And no, it is not coming back!"


She pushed the clutch

But far too much

And somehow opened the door

Then she got out

And came about

And the duck thought, "Man, what a--"


She picked up

The ugly duck

And took him to the front door

It was locked

And so she knocked

And it wasn't locked anymore


The woman said

"Hi, McNewan! I've got the perfect duck for stewin'!"

"Come in! Come in!" said McNewan

"I just got the water brewin'

"He's still alive, but that's the best!

"Now let's be done with this damned pest"


They took him down the hallway floor

To the left and through the door

Past the photos all around

Hanging up and looking down


To the kitchen hence they came

Leaving then the hall of fame

"Mmm," the duck thought, "duckling stew"

"WAIT!" he thought, "That duck is YOU!"


They came closer to the pot

The duck went in

"That water's HOT!"

There and then the phone did ring

"You're mother's called about that thing!"

"I'll be back," McNewan said

"With bourbon and a loaf of bread"


The duck got out of the pot

And turned the knob a lot

He stopped at low

So he would know

The water wouldn't be so hot


The duck got back inside the pot

And now it was not quite so hot

He had a good laugh

And then he thought

"Well, I do love a good bath!"


McNewan returned with the bourbon and bread

And placed them down, nodding his head

He took a step back, admiring the view

And looking forward to his duck stew


McNewan's coat made him look fatter

He was coming to the pot with a platter

The duck looked asleep

With not even a peep

And everything else didn't matter


The woman's hands went to her head

"Oh my God! This duck's not dead!"

Then he hissed

And bit her wrist

And the rest of her hand went red


"Right!" McNewan said

"If this duck isn't dead

"He can go far from here

"And get eaten by the deer!"


"Throw me! Throw me!

"I don't care! I have courage like a bear!"

"I think you mean a lion, duck!"

But the duck was no more there


He flew and flew

"Achoo! Achoo!"

He had caught a cold

He thought that he had grown immune

But he was getting old


He landed by a clear blue pond

With which he felt a special bond

He had seen it once before

And now he was quite fond


"Hey, Ron! Yes you, the swan

"Do I have some luck?

"Am I just like you, a swan?

"Or am I just a duck?"


"Sorry, mate

"You're not a swan

"You're all out of your luck"


The other swan said

"Stuff him mate!

"He's just an ugly duck!"

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Chapter Three: Complete

Chapter Three is officially complete at 3,564 words.

I have written "Chapter Four" at the top of a new page and will begin work on that tomorrow.

Chapter Two is up in queue

Chapter Two is up in queue,
Three is on its way
Chapter Four is coming, too
But that's for another day

On the Future of Paranormal Fiction

Vampires are in. There’s no doubt about it, yet I refuse to read such books at the moment. Feeding the genre would be like voting for a president I don’t actually support. They are saturating the market and I am sick of it. There used to be one area for fantasy books, and one for paranormal. Now it’s the same, but the paranormal section is about four times larger. As a fantasy purist, I will not feed the enemy.

However, I predict that the market saturation will be the downfall of paranormal fiction. In one or two years’ time, writers will have no more unique ideas to explore in the genre, and readers will not find enough books to satisfy their hunger.

I know paranormal fiction will be out soon, because I write epic fantasy, and when the time comes to submit my manuscript, paranormal fiction will not bar my opportunity because I am destined to be published. Thus, paranormal fiction is destined to fall. I trust that there will still be plenty of books for the genre (good ones), but we will not have this over-saturation of mal écriture that we have now.

My conclusive argument: Vampires are still in, but the quality of such books are in need of improvement.

A. Deviation.

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At "The Lockless Door" Blog: Contest For 5,000 Word Critique

Rebecca Hamilton (known as Rhamilton on CC) is holding a blog contest over at The Lockless Door. All you have to do is give your opinion on the vampire market saturation and link to her blog as I have done to be in the running for a 5,000 word critique.

"The best 'argument' from each side will win a 5,000 word critique."

To find Rebecca's contest, go here.

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Every Thousand Words: Eleven Thousand

Yes, this thousand did go by very quickly. That's a good thing, right?

~ Eleven Thousand ~
The Word: wall
The Paragraph:
"Come upstairs!" said Saera. The stairway they took led through a dark passage cut from the stone that was the foundation of the Arena. As he climbed, Eoin kept a hand on the "wall" to orient himself in the blackness. The stairs curved to the right before they were greeted with sunlight once more. It was noticeably less crowded here, and Eoin had a better view of the pit. He could also see some of the audience on the level below.

The Arrangement:
Eoin was ever around. We didn't be like, "We wall food ."

["To wall" meaning "to hide"]

Every Thousand Words: Ten Thousand

~ Ten Thousand ~
The Word: we
The Paragraph:
“It’s free for us,” said Faine. “Those entering the tournament and their assisters are required to be here, so "we" are not made to pay.”

The Arrangement:
We didn't be like Eoin. We was ever around food.

A Quote: On Actually Writing

Below is a quote I discovered which encompasses my beliefs in being consistent in my writing.

"The great advantage of a badly written page is that it can be rewritten. It can be improved. A blank page is zero. In fact, it’s worse than zero, because it represents territory you’re afraid, unwilling, or too lazy to explore. Avoid exploring this territory long enough, and you’ll abandon your book."

http://www.timothyhallinan.com/writers.php?id=2&mode=part#rule5

This entire article from Timothy Hallinan is a fantastic resource if you feel you are having any problems with keeping focused on your goal. He talks about good habits and goes into detail on many elements of a novel.

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A Look Back [Grade Two]: A Magical World (Part I)

Here is what my writing was like in Grade Two, a year after I began writing. It is fun to laugh at the incredible mistakes I made, and the lack of knowledge I had of the English language. The obvious naïveté is also interesting to observe.
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A Magical World: Sam's Life!

Part I: The Castle

Hi! My name is Sam. I pretty much don't like my family. There's rules everywhere! I'm not even allowed to jump on the couch. It's unfair! I wish there were no rules. And if there were no rules, my life would be prefect. I woke up next morning. It was beautiful. But I had a plan. A brilliant plan. Tonight I will run away from home. I played, had breakfast, played, didn't bother about lunch, played, had dinner and went to bed. I stay awake until... Snap! The light just automatically turned off. I can't help it. I must... Hor shoo, hor shoo.

Yet again I woke up. This morning is a bit different. The air is all dusty. The day went by so quickly and it's already night time. That means it's time for my runaway. I hid from table to chair, from chair to couch to wall to door. I carefully slid up the door. I quietly opened the oor. It made a loud CREACH! Few! no one woke up. I opened the door a little bit more. Mum came out of he room. "What's all the noise?!" She asked in a terrorfied voice.

I ran, ran for my life, out the door, down the path, up a hill, East, forward, West. At least I think I went that way. OOOPS! Now I know what I for-got. My compass! "Oh well, I'll follow the sun once it comes up. Until then, I'll follow the moon for five minutes and have a sleep until the sun comes up. Good night world.

Ah! Rise and shine. I had a BIG STRECH, and then walked along the path again. It was a beautiful bright sunny morning. The sun was shining brightly ["brightly" has rays drawn around it] in my eyes. I carefully followed the sun since I forgot my compass. At I did the same thing for seven days and a night. "AH! It's nice to be away from home for a change. There's no rules out here in the open." I looked up at the sky. I looked down again. I looked back up. a "OH I MY GOD!" "There is a HUGE Castle right in front of me! NO! REALY! I'M SERIOUS" I went up to the Caste door. I very slowly go for the handle. BOING! I weakly flung back. Ow! I got up. The doors flung open. I fell back. "Don't be afraid," A voice said in amazement. "Come inside," It was a pretty small room compared to how big the Castle was. The only thing in the room was an old rusty picture hanging on the wall. The voice said, "BIARA BULA!" The picture opened. "WHAT DID YOU JUST DO!," I yelled.
"Well, I just said the password for the portrait."
"IT'S A PORTRAIT!"
WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME IT WAS A PORTRAIT?"
I slowly calmed down and walked I through the portrait. An old a but tall looking man came up to me. He said,
"Hello Sam," He said.
"How did you know my name was Sam?" I asked
"I'm a phsicic, but anyway I'll tell you what you'r here for later. Until then you should have a look around."

I saw a door in the corner. I went up and opened it. There was a button on the far side of the room.
I forgot what the old man said and pressed the buttton. Spikes came out of the walls and they threatened to close in on me. The old man came in and said
"BREESEN BUA! The spikes dissapeared and the walls widened. You can't obay obey the Castle rules, I guess you won't obey the spell-bounding spell-binding rules. I suggest you come back next year.

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Welcome to The Dark Corner of the Mind. My name is Ryan Sullivan and my aim with this blog is to help others with their own writing, as well as to make note of some of my own writing endeavours.

Here at The Dark Corner, Real Life is both our best friend and our worst enemy. Look to him for inspiration, but don't let him get in the way too much.

If he does, bribe him with cookies.

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