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Circle Game

Human life is a series of human errors
We’re all just blindly bumbling in the dark
Running from imaginary snapping dragon terrors
Until naive illumination gives us a spark

The only truth to be pulled from the errors
Is the odd smile we can toss looking back
At tripping down the stairs, running into the door
Circling the wrong direction on the track

Because we’re all dancing in circles
And lopsided, broken lines
We’re all of us dancing in circles
And stepping out of time

Until we know what it is to embark
On the backs of our snapping dragon terrors
We’re all just blindly bumbling in the dark
Human life is a game of errors.

What is time
But some numbers
When your body
Is in disrepair
What are numbers
But some pixels
When your mind
Is unaware

I measure time in yearning
The more I want him
And the stronger
I measure time in burning
The worse it pains me
And the longer

There’s a little black box
In the corner of my mind
And when I crash and burn
Inside it you will find
The reasons for my downfall
All my pains confined
In that little black box
In the corner of my mind

How long can you go on flying
In a straight and simple line
How long can you chase your tail
Til the engines start to whine
And how long can you look ahead
Searching for a sign
In the glare of the ruthless midday sun
Forty-five past nine

There’s a little black hole
In the corner of my mind
And when I’ve fallen in it
You’ll peer down and you’ll find
No wonderland, no rabbit
Just little me confined
In that little black hole
In the corner of my mind

How long can you go on waiting
For someone to toss a line
And how long can you pace about
Until your will declines
How long can you crane your head up
Waiting for a sign
When your gaze can’t pierce the solid dark
And no more search lights shine

Friends have probably heard me say this, and say it several times over:

“I really feel like writing, but I have no idea about what.”

It happens to me all the time. I’ll have this burning urge to write coursing through my veins, and yet, when I go to put pen to paper (or text to word document)… nothing. I can’t even think where to begin, and my previous works? They just don’t want to flow.

That, my dears, is where generators come in. You may be wondering what a backup power supply has to do with writing… and the answer is, absolutely nothing. I’m talking about the computer application known as a generator. Those to us as writers take random strings of syllables, words, phrases, and/or sentences and put them together. There is a wide range of types, everything from name generators to plot generators to evil minion generators. Some are serious; others are silly. But they are a world of use to those of us who suffer the dreaded writer’s block.

Some people might be inclined to say that using generators is uncreative. To these people I say, bah! Like you, as a writer, have never drawn inspiration from an outside source. Don’t try to say you haven’t, because that would be a flat-out, low-down, no-good lie. Inspiration comes from within us but also from all around us; no idea is ever truly new. What matters is how you use it – how you make an idea your own.

Generators are all about that. The generator isn’t writing your story for you, after all. It’s giving you a string of random text for you to include, interpret, and/or expand upon in whatever way you wish.

For example, using Seventh Sanctum’s Vampire Generator, I came up with this:

This romantic vampire has narrow gunmetal-gray eyes. His fine, straight, chestnut hair is worn in a style that reminds you of a trailing ribbon. He is inhumanly tall and has an elegant build. His skin is cream-colored. He can turn into a butterfly. If attacked with weapons made of iron, he will die. His diet requires blood of males. His outfits are complicated.

Nice, nice. A good basis for a character. It gives me a very general idea of who this person is. But it’s not a character yet; I still have some polishing to do.

Gunmetal gray eyes are pretty, we’ll keep that- not too dark, nor too light, but medium gunmetal, with darker flecks. Coming to the hair… brunette sounds good, but chestnut brings to mind a color a little too red for this guy, in my mental image. I say his hair’s more a medium-dark sepia, and for a nice touch, let’s add a few streaks of premature gray. “Like a trailing ribbon” to me says that it’s long, probably about mid-back length, and tied back at the base of the neck. Inhumanly tall is a little strong… let’s say he’s just rather tall or taller than average. I adore the cream-colored skin… maybe some scant, faded freckles, evidence of a now-abandoned connection with the sun. The outfit being complicated could mean a great number of things; I think I’m going to interpret it as stylish and properly accessorized.

As for powers… I’m not sure how much I really like the whole butterfly thing. I mean, it doesn’t sound terribly useful or neat, so I might strike it totally. Then again, it is sort of a romantic notion. There might be some use for it yet, so we’ll tuck it away as a “maybe”. The iron weakness is kind of debilitating, considering iron weapons can’t be hard to come by, but let’s live dangerously, shall we? Everyone has their weaknesses, so that probably stays, and hopefully I can come up with some sort of explanation for it. Diet requires the blood of males, hmm? Well, that screams possibilities to me, but not necessarily. We’ll just have to see what he does with it. It’s my head, so one outcome is likely (over 66% likely!), but you never know. But it’s definitely an interesting limitation, so it stays for sure.

Of course, he still needs more physical customization- his build, his voice, his facial structure, the way he walks, and so forth- and an expansion of his abilities, a better idea just what he can and can’t do. His personality is very underdeveloped, and will have to be explored far more fully. But we have here an example of where a handfull of basic descriptors can take you. I’m now on the way to gaining a new headperson.

So if you’re stuck, want to try something new, or are just utterly bored, give them a try. I’ll wrap the post up with a list of some of my favorite distractions genertators:

  • Seventh Sanctum - The motherload of generators. Seriously. It has everything. Among my favorites are the Quick Character Generator, the Fangirl Fantasy Generator, the Quick Character Namer, and the Brain Hurting Fanfic Pairer (no, I didn’t just make that up).
  • Serendipity -Some of these are intended for Les Mis fanfiction but most of them are pretty general. On the whole they’re richly creative. I especially love the Ethnicity, City, Room, and the outfit generators, but lots of them are good.
  • Fantasy Name Generator - This is probably pretty much what you expect it to be. However, it builds names out of fragments and has a bunch of different settings (a few humorous, too). You can come up with some really awesome-sounding names; sometimes it’s just the perfect thing.
  • Cool Bits Story Generator – Probably the best plot generator ever. What could be better than a bunch of elements people think are cool, combined in a variety of ways? Sometimes they come out like the coolest idea you’ve ever heard. Other times they come out painfully, unintentionally hilarious.

Happy randomizing! 

You might notice some additions to my previously scant page index. That’s because I’m really cracking down and starting to get to work. I know, I know. Me, work? It can’t be – and yet it is!

But enough of my dramatics. You’ll now see in the page index a few different main pages. My Dears is a friends list, as it’s much more convenient for me to list all you dears on a page and simply clickity-click-click.

My Dolls, however, is a heading under which all my character and world pages will nest. Currently beneath that section are the subheadings Character Index and World Index. Beneath Character Index are, of course, pages describing characters, and I shall try to limit myself to characters I feature frequently. If I tried to list every character – even just every main character – well, that would just be a little insane.

Then there are the worlds under World Index, describing some of the specific settings my fiction takes place in. Again, I’m trying to limit myself to what I’ll feature often, and many settings aren’t really developed enough to warrant an entire page describing them. Others, however, are very complex.

Currently many of the listed pages are placeholders or incomplete, but expect to see these pages develop into something (hopefully) interesting very soon.

To Children

As I have written a post out of appreciation for my dear, dear friends – people who have, in effect, created me – perhaps I ought to write a post thanking those I have created.

Ah, my darling characters…

Now, you may think it silly or childish, the level to which I treat my characters as real individuals. You might go so far as to think it indicative of an infirm mind. I can’t outright deny those things. Regardless, my characters are my children. This is more in a goddessly sense than a motherly sense, mind, as most of them have canonical mothers of their own, but they are my children all the same. They are my babies.

It’s fair to say that I’m a horrible mother. I say it fairly often. I do the most horrid sorts of things to these poor, helpless souls. That is, of course, because flaws make the character and conflicts make the story. Without them you’ve got a vapid Sue in a sunshiny status quo, and nobody wants that. It would be like watching paint dry while being read the entire United States tax code. In case you didn’t know, the tax code has OVER NINE THOUSAAAAAND sections. No, seriously. It does.

Anyway, I’d call it a worse crime to my characters to make them flat, flimsy little bores that no one in their right mind would ever take an interest in. My characters are unique as the day is long, and I mean the summer solstice day. And despite all the outlandish circumstances and fantastical qualities, it’s almost like they’re alive – and I’m darn proud of that. Sometimes I think they’re really the only thing I can write right.

So to all of you who are forced to inhabit my twisted imagination, I formally apologize. It’s necessary derangement, I am afeared. At least have the consolation that I can’t change how you react to anything; I can only change what I throw at you to react to.

And I’m still kind of afraid of most of you outside of canon.

To Friends

You are the silver thread that keeps me connected to the confounding, tumultuous world I have at times become so distant from. No matter how far I drift out, you draw me back in again. You awaken me when I start to walk in my feverish dreams, before I am devoured by their inundating darkness. If not for you, where would I be?

Probably chained tight within myself, the way I was headed before you coaxed me out. I was disillusioned with people; the naivete of my childhood lay shattered upon the ground. My health wasn’t good, and nobody knew why. My family would offer me no solace; they were a daily source of strain and antagonism. I had finally seen through the tormenters I once considered friends, and I was utterly alone. Confused and miserable, I could find no softness anywhere. I began to hide behind a silent, impenetrable exterior and pretend, for all the world, that I was alright.

But of course that all has changed. You taught me how to smile a real smile and laugh a real laugh. You showed me the realities of human character in all the right ways. You pulled me from the depths of my isolation and I opened my eyes to the fact that I was no longer alone.

I’ve always been a romantic, a dreamer, a denizen of castles in the sky and flights of fancy, plagued with megrims in every possible sense of the word. I think I nearly lost it all. I clung to my dreams for dear life, but shut up in a box with no light or air, dreams have a habit of dying. I really felt a prisoner of my life and existence, and my mind was my only escape and sanctuary. I really could have lost it all.

So I thank you – if those words could ever be enough. I thank you for giving me the strength to carry on, and putting the fire in my heart to light my dreams. If I have been the slightest merit to your unbounded beauty, it was worthwhile.

   I suppose I need another blog like I need a hole in the head, but that’s never stopped me before. It’s always nice to have another place to infiltrate with my rampant insanity. Very seldom do I actually unleash the contents- that is to say, the inhabitants- of my twisted psyche upon a blog in full, but then I’ve never really kept a writing blog before. I think that will be this one’s chief purpose. That means you all get to suffer through meet the family.

And now would probably be a good time to explain, to anyone who may not realize it, that I have people in my head. They’re my headpeople. Just think of them as my imaginary friends. They talk to me. And I have no control over them outside of their canon continuities.

It’s kind of sad when an author isn’t running the show, but you try telling the masterful portal mage Andersen to shut up and sit down. You try getting the antisocial demon lord Issac Sionnach to stop chewing on the couch. We’ll see just how far you get. Canonically I decide who lives and dies, but I’ve yet to evict anyone from my head. Not that I’d want to. I love my dears… even if they’re sometimes very, very frightening.

So if a crazy girl with voices in her head makes you nervous, you might want to flee. Otherwise, keep arms, legs, wings, puppet strings, partially severed limbs, and tentacles inside the dollhouse at all times. It’s going to be quite a show.