Percy Jackson Thirty Day Meme: Day 4

Day 4: Favourite male character

HAHAHA IS THIS EVEN A QUESTION

LEO VALDEZ

HOW COULD IT NOT BE

Yes indeed, Leo Valdez, son of Hephaestus, repair boy extraordinaire, the seventh wheel, supreme commander of the Argo II and did I mention he's pyrokinetic? He's pretty much just made of awesome.

But that's not the only thing. See...

I sort of have this thing where I'm emotionally masochistic.

I just love having feelings, I think feelings are miraculous and what makes us human. So whether or not the feelings are positive, like, that's not as important to me. I just really enjoy having feelings.

And Leo Valdez makes me feel all the feelings.

Like, yes, this is indeed the same character who pulled all that hilarious stuff with Narcissus and his fan club (see Day 2 of the meme). This is the same character who has conversations like this:

Jason: You're not annoying, and you do take stuff seriously, especially your work. I wish I could do half the stuff you do. 

Leo: (rolls eyes) I try very hard to be annoying. Don't insult my ability to annoy. And how am I supposed to resent you if you go apologizing? I'm a lowly mechanic. You're like, the prince of the sky, son of the lord of the universe. I'm supposed to resent you. 

Jason: Lord of the universe?

Leo: Sure, you're all - Bam! Lightning man. And - "Watch me fly. I am the eagle that soars" - 

Jason: Shut up, Valdez. 

Leo: Yeah, see. I do annoy you. 

Jason: I apologize for apologizing. 

Leo: Thank you. 

But then it's also like, oh yeah, remember, this is the kid who accidentally killed his mom when he was eight with his pyrokinesis. Oh yeah, this is the kid who was cast out of his family by his aunt after she called him a diablo (he's Latino, and his mom used to talk to him in both Spanish and English). Oh yeah, this is the kid who ran away from his foster homes six times since he was eight before he was finally dumped at the Wilderness School and picked up by the other demigods.

This is the kid who fixed this huge bronze dragon, Festus, only to have it die during the quest. This is the kid who devoted eight months of his life to building the Argo II, effectively isolating himself from everyone else. This is the kid who was possessed by an evil spirit and fired on the Romans, starting a war.

I just have a lot of feelings about Leo Valdez.

In fact

I have all the feelings about Leo Valdez.

Oh yeah, not to mention that a goddess literally told him that he would never find a place among his friends and he will forever be the seventh wheel as one of the demigods in the Prophecy of Seven.

LIKE LEO IT'S OKAY I WILL LOVE YOU

And what I especially love about Leo is the way he's portrayed to the audience.

Because he's always the comic relief - like, if you're having a serious conversation and need something to lighten the mood, fear not, for Leo Valdez will say something like, "Oh. I mean, suffering? I love suffering! Let's do this!" And I think that people have this habit of imagining class clown type characters as, like, boneheads, but it is very stressed through the books that Leo is an extremely smart and talented individual. Like, where Percy was generally the comic relief in all his books and he was a bonehead who would run without thinking into every fight, Leo lets himself think for a minute and manages to throw together a plan that works. I mean, obviously Leo is extremely talented in terms of building and repairing and mechanics and engineering, being a son of Hephaestus, but I think what defines his intelligence is his ability to problem-solve, which shines pretty brightly every time he's caught in a, you know, a situation.

What I also love about him is that he has very clear strengths, but he's also a flawed human that makes mistakes and he knows it. Like, every one of the character is flawed, but I think Leo is one of the only ones that acknowledges it about themselves. As I was talking about in one of the unfinished thoughtful draft posts, I sort of have a weakness for characters like that.

And also, can we give it up for characters who don't like fighting hand-to-hand? Because he's literally the only one of the Seven that has that weakness. He just, you know, fights in different ways. Generally from behind a control panel. (Although he did once fight a goddess hand to hand once - he only survived because she was the goddess of snow and hahaha, hello, he's pyrokinetic). But I just have this appreciation for him for not being, y'know, the hero-hero that's in every single adventure novel ever.

But, uh, yeah. Leo Valdez. My favourite male character.

I have opinions.

What have I gotten myself into with this meme thing.

Percy Jackson Thirty Day Meme: Day 3

Day 3: If you were a demigod, whose child would you be?

Whew, good question.

I want to say Hermes, because every myth he's in is hilarious and he's for sure my favourite god (god of mischief, hello?) but I don't think I quite line up with that. (He was also the god of thieves, travelers, messengers, commerce, eloquent speaking, hospitality, and athletic competitions so HAHAHA NOPE).

I'm gonna go with Apollo, who is the god of the sun, prophecy, medicine, archery (I think - he and Artemis maybe kinda go hand in hand on that last one?) but with those things, he is also the god of intellect, music, poetry and, well, pretty much everything artsy. He was the mentor of the Nine Muses, who are the goddesses the arts and inspiration (hence the term "I found my Muse" or whatever). So I think that probably makes him closest to me out of the gods.

Is it too self-catering to say that?

Oh well. I'm a writer and a musician and an intellectual, so I think it's a fair statement. Also, judging from the myths, Apollo is very aware of how good he is at the things he's good at, which I can have the same kind of arrogance sometimes. As well as the fact that Apollo clearly has a temper - I mean, every god in greek mythology is pretty vengeful, but Apollo seems to have a thing for curses - and I also have a pretty significant temper, when it's not kept in check.

So, yes. I'm going to say that Apollo is my hypothetical godly parent. Admittedly I'm not very good at telling the future, nor am I very good at being a doctor, but I could probably be decent at archery with practise, and I like to think I'm a pretty sunny person so...

Yes, I have been waiting to make that pun this entire post.

Percy Jackson Thirty Day Meme: Day 2

Day 2: Favourite Heroes of Olympus book

This'll possibly change after Blood of Olympus comes out in October, but as it stands right now -

Book 3, The Mark of Athena.

There are just so many good things happening here. We get to finally get inside Annabeth's head, for one thing, which up until then had never happened before, in spite of the fact that she'd been around for seven books already (the five Percy Jackson books, two Heroes of Olympus). And like, she'd never really clicked with me in the Percy Jackson books - like, I liked her and accepted her character, but it's like, she was less of a person and more of an entity in those books. Which is why thank god for third person omniscience! (Which god do I thank for that? Apollo? One of the Muses?) And now I love her and relate to her and she's just awesome. She's just so much more interesting when A) we're in her head, and B) when she's away from Percy once in a while.

And there's just so much about the book that's freaking hilarious. Particularly, but not limited to, the scene where Leo has to distract Narcissus (and Narcissus's fan club) from his reflection.

Leo: Narcissus is a loser! He's so weak he can't bench-press a Kleenex. He's so lame, when you look up lame on Wikipedia, it's got a picture of Narcissus - only the picture's so ugly, no one ever checks it out. 

Narcissus: What are you talking about? I am amazing. Everyone knows this. 

Leo: Amazing at pure suck. If I was as suck as you I'd drown myself. Oh wait, you already did that. Team Leo for the win!

Narcissus fan: (about Leo) He is funny. And cute, in a scrawny way. 

Leo: Scrawny? Baby, I invented scrawny. Scrawny is the new sizzling hot. And I GOT the scrawny. 

Or the scene where Percy scares a crew of dolphin pirates into thinking that Dionysus will curse them. (Google that myth, it makes sense).

Percy: We are doomed. If you don't believe me, let's check the ice chest! (runs to the ice chest and digs around to find a can of Diet Coke). Behold! The god's chosen drink! Tremble before the horror of Diet Coke!

(Dolphin people begin to panic.)

Percy: The god will take your ship. He will finish your transformation into dolphins, or make you insane, or transform you into insane dolphins! Your only hope is to swim away now, quickly! Save yourselves! It is too late for us! (points to Frank, who has the ability to turn into any animal) Oh no! Frank is turning into a crazy dolphin!

(Frank does nothing).

Percy: I said, Frank is turning into a crazy dolphin. 

Frank: Oh no. I am turning into a crazy dolphin. 

Just golden. Or when Annabeth has to trick Arachne, who takes no small amount of pleasure in killing her, into weaving her own trap:

Annabeth: As I said, I'd love to take your tapestries to Olympus and hang them everywhere. You could rub your craftmanship in Athena's nose for all eternity. But the only way I could do that... No. It's too difficult. You might as well go ahead and kill me.

Arachne: No! That is unacceptable. It no longer brings me any pleasure to contemplate. I must have my work on Mount Olympus! What must I do?

Annabeth: Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. Just push me into Tartarus or something.

Arachne: I refuse!

Annabeth: Don't be ridiculous. Kill me. 

Arachne: I do not take orders from you! Tell me what I must do! Or... or - 

Annabeth: Or you'll kill me?

Arachne: Yes! No!

Anyways, point is, it's very good at being hilarious.

And then, whoa my god, the tension - and not even just, like, plot-wise. I mean, for sure, they have four days to save Nico from suffocating and also stop Rome from getting destroyed, and Annabeth has to strike out on her own to find the Athena Parthenos, and they have to defeat two giants with supposedly no help from the gods which, by the way, is impossible, so yes, there's a lot of plot things happening.

But what's great about the book is that the two books before were all about introducing the cast. Book 1, The Lost Hero, introduces the Greek half of the Seven: we meet Leo, Piper, Jason and Annabeth. Book 2, The Son of Neptune, introduces the Roman half of the Seven: Frank, Hazel and Percy. Book 3, The Mark of Athena, is finally the book where we're like: "Okay, we know who these people are now. So what happens when we put them all in a room together?"

Answer: some greatness and a bit of tension.

Things I love: Everyone assumed that when Jason and Percy met, since they were the leaders of their respective camps, that they would be all up in each other's faces, like getting in a who's-more-macho-and-awesome competition. What actually ended up happening was they almost immediately started getting super bromantic. And they make a really good team. I love bromances.

Things I feel guilty for enjoying: the tension between Hazel, Frank and Leo. So, Hazel's a child of the 1940s who gave her life to stop Gaea, and then, since the Doors of Death are open, was brought back to help stop Gaea again (kinda like Nico, who incidentally, is her half-brother on the godly side - she's a daughter of Pluto, who is Hades's roman aspect). Anyways, back in her old life she had a boyfriend called Sammy. So, just as she starts dating Frank (SHE AND FRANK ARE PERFECT I JUST CAN'T) she meets Leo, who happens to look exactly like Sammy. Leo has no idea who Sammy is, or why Frank asked him if that wasn't his name, or how it could have anything to do with him if Hazel's from seventy years ago. And he starts getting a crush on Hazel, which is super awkward for Frank because now Hazel's getting all confused, and Frank starts gettin' a real hate on for Leo. It doesn't help that Leo can summon fire, and Frank's life literally depends on a piece of firewood. It also doesn't help that Frank makes Leo nervous, and so Leo tends to hide that with humour, namely by razzing Frank.

Anyway, as it turns out, Sammy was actually Leo's great-grandfather. Awkward.

It was a close toss-up between this book and The House of Hades (Book 4), though. Because there's a lot of good character stuff happening there too. Like, Frank can take on a whole freaking army by himself. And Hazel is capable of anything. And Piper starts to understand her power. And Leo and Calypso meet, which, in spite of how arguably lazy it was to write it the way he did, they're still adorable. But the book was also like, ANGSTY ANGST ANGST DID I MENTION ANGST (at least by this series's standards). So that's why I chose the Mark of Athena instead.

Because

tension and laugh balance

but also

character interaction

character interaction

CHARACTER INTERACTION

*clears throat*

I believe I've made my point.

I just really like observing how all the relationships between the Seven evolve so sue me.

You Were Probably Getting Tired of All Those Thoughtful, Interesting Posts Anyway

So I think it's time for some useless fangirly ones!

It's just that I have like a hundred drafts of posts that are really thoughtful and analytical, but I can't finish any of them because my brain needs a break. I've kinda been writing non-stop.

And what better way to give my brain a break than to do the Thirty Days of Percy Jackson meme, because I have opinions and there's nothing I like better than... having opinions. Except, I think that instead of doing it in thirty days like you're supposed to, I'm just going to do it all in one post. I dunno, we'll see how it goes.

Day 1: Favourite Percy Jackson and the Olympians book 

Easy. The Last Olympian, the fifth and last book in the series, is easily my favourite.

We all know that I love my epic action adventure stuff, and we also all know that if it starts to get real dark, I start to lose interest UNLESS

UNLESS it's tempered with a laugh here and there.

Buffy and Firefly do this beautifully (Whedon's kinda the master), hence my adoration for them, and The Last Olympian does this pretty well too.

Like, it's definitely one of the darkest ones of the series. Beckendorf dies in the first chapter of the book; Silena Beauregard dies a hero after living as a traitor; Percy takes a dip in the River Styx; Percy nearly gives up Hope (from out of Pandora's Box - it's complicated, but that's a thing that exists); we meet Luke's mom, who's been driven insane by a curse of the gods; the gods are losing the battle against the Titans; Luke sacrifices himself after working for the Big Bad all this time... there are a lot of things that happen.

But for a lot of those scenes, and a lot of stuff in between as well, I managed to laugh out loud at least once. Inappropriate, maybe, but how can you not laugh as Clarisse, taking revenge on the drakon that killed Silena, runs around screaming at the Titan army "I AM CLARISSE, DRAKON SLAYER! I will kill you ALL!" Or, after Percy takes a dip in the Styx and proceeds to destroy an entire army of evil skeleton warriors without getting a scratch on him...

Percy: I think it worked. 

Nico: Ya think?

Or as the gods are losing the battle, and Dionysus pulls Percy into "party time" (because, since Dionysus is more or less the god of partying, his presence is invoked wherever there is a party) and warns him about Kronos... while playing Pacman.

Dionysus: The point is, I pulled you into party time to deliver a warning. We are in danger.

Percy: Gee. Never would've figured that out. Thanks. 

(Dionysus glares at him and he loses the game)

Dionysus: Erre es korakas, Blinky! I will have your soul!

Percy: Um, he's a video game character. 

Dionysus: That's no excuse! And you're ruining my game, Jorgenson!

Percy: Jackson. 

Dionysus: Whichever!

The same thing could be said about the other books, though, of course. They all kinda have that tone, though books 3 and 4 are a little angstier than the others. But what I also appreciate about it is that hey, look at my babies, they're all grown up!

Nico chooses to forget his bitterness, at least for the moment, and help the demigods fight Kronos.

Grover is respected enough as a protector and as the chosen one of Pan that he commands an army of nymphs and satyrs against them.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare becomes the new oracle for Camp Half-Blood.

Tyson, my adorable baby cyclops Tyson who, if you don't love you have no soul, commands Poseidon's underwater army of Cyclops, not because he was promoted to that position, but because, in the words of Twisted Sister, We're not gonna take it/No, we ain't gonna take it/We're not gonna take it anymore. (This happened because the palace sorta got, like, bombed while they were eating lunch, and so Tyson was finally like, we've gotta fight and help Poseidon. So he stood up and yelled, "FOR POSEIDON!" but his mouth was full so all the other Cyclops thought he said something else, and they charged into battle with the battlecry "PEANUT BUTTER!")

Percy dips in the Styx in order to have a better chance of countering Kronos (his Achilles heel is the small of his back), NOT TO MENTION how he somehow, unofficially became the commander of Camp Half-Blood during the Titan War. And he does a good job, really.

Annabeth is just as kick-ass as she always is. She really matured emotionally here too, though. Namely, she stops acting like a jealous jerk toward Rachel.

And, hey, Clarisse is actually kind of a pleasant human being for a second or two there, so that's something!

But, yeah. The Last Olympian. Tension to keep you going, laughs to keep you happy, character development to keep you engaged. My favourite Percy Jackson book.

You know, I changed my mind, I think I'll do this in thirty days like I'm supposed to. Just 'cause I can and it's fun. :)

A Short Story Tutorial You Never Asked For and Should Probably Disregard Entirely

I don't "write short stories" so much as I give myself a jungle and attempt to cut a path through it. 

This came to my head right now and it's one of those things that make me wish it was socially acceptable to quote myself because I've never been so eloquent about how I write before.

Like, generally? I am a very plot-driven writer. I never sit down to start writing one of my big chapter-book projects without a pretty detailed plot in mind. This is sometimes to my detriment, since the micro-managed development of the plot means that my characters often start out pretty underdeveloped by comparison. (I find this funny about me, since this is pretty much exactly the opposite of how I like the stories that I actually consume - I would much rather explore strong characters than weird situations. My brain is inexplicable and strange). Never mind the fact that, more often than not, I won't even end up following the plot-line I drew out for myself. The point is, when it comes to my big projects, I'm pretty reliant on having a story already drawn out - and even then, it'll usually take me about seven chapters to get to the good stuff. Sigh.

But this is only with the big projects. Because you see, when I need a break from the big projects, I start on a short story or two.

And I almost never draw out a plot for those things.

With my short stories, I tend to start with concepts - I'm not going to give away all my fascinating concepts here, because of reasons, but I'm going to take you through a step by step manual of how my short stories usually go down.

First, I'll get an idea. A small one, maybe just an idea for a really dramatic scene or something but with nothing to fit around it. Or maybe I got this really interesting idea for a dystopian future (to use the apparently unwavering trend in recent pop culture), but can't think of a plot to go with it. Or maybe a character popped in my head, fully developed, flaws and fears and passions and strengths already in place, but I don't have a story to put them in. What do I do?

Generally, I just run with it.

I'll just start writing. I'll start with the inspiration and see where it takes me. Sometimes it doesn't take me anywhere and the piece just dries up and I'll never look at it again (although that usually only happens because something off happened at an important part of the story, and there's a lot of work involved in tracking that down and fixing it, believe me).

But usually it does take me somewhere. I feel like it's a lot like improvising. Because usually, I have no idea where I'm going, but the characters talk and ideas come out and you have to follow those ideas or the whole thing goes dead. Yeah, improv is a good analogy for it. Because, of course, rule number one of improv, the one rule that you always hear no matter who you're talking to, the magical GOLDEN RULE OF IMPROV is SAY YES. Always say yes. No matter how weird it may be, you have to. If possible, then YES AND is even better. (Accepting an idea and adding to it). Because of course, if someone says something and you don't accept the idea - what's known as "blocking" in improv - then, if you don't suggest an alternative, the scene will inevitably die. Welp, there goes that idea. So, uh, what now?

It's the same with me when I write short stories. I just go with the first inspiration and run. And then maybe a character will say something else, and I'll follow that path. I can't say no to a possible path - it's not like I've got anywhere else to go, you know? So if I want to keep the inspiration alive until I manage to come to some kind of closure (believe it or not, that does happen sometimes), I have to explore every first idea.  And then you keep running and running with all these ideas and before you know it your "short" story is thirty pages long and you still don't know if you're anywhere near the finish line. (I recently finished one at thirty four pages. Typed. I have a problem).

I mean, we all know it's (almost) physically impossible for me to write something under a thousand words - I mean, like, I could write a thousand words in my sleep - but thirty pages typed out is still a bit over the top. For sure, my short stories, when finished, take a lot of hammering into shape, because when I don't have a drawn out plot-line, I tend to get kind of really self-indulgent. (Like, in one of my "short" stories, I gave a character this really long, really fabulous monologue, but we all know that no one talks like that. Humans are not human without that sort of quiet uncertainty that long pretentious monologues don't tend to lend themselves to. Especially not scared humans, which is where the character was coming from.) So, yes, they need fixing. And editing. And probably - be still my hammering heart, for I must strike for the good of all! - a lot of cutting.

Honestly, cutting things from my stories feels like surgery. It's nerve-wracking and scary and but-what-if-I-decide-that-I-actually-like-this-bit-then-what-do-I-do-now-that-it's-not-there-anymore-ahhhhhhhhhh! (The anxiety, of course, comes from the fact that if you write a scene really well, you just know that it won't be quite as good the second time around).

But the fun of it is that you get to just explore and most of the time, you eventually even come to a place of closure. How long that takes, well, yeah, that could be an issue, I suppose, but with patience, it does happen. And the thing is, you can't edit something or chop something that isn't written down. No matter how long it is, you need to keep with it until it's done or it'll never become anything, right?

Writing is always fun. Writing with a plot is fun because at least when you get writer's block, it's not so much a matter of "where do I go next?" as much as it is "how do I tell the story of the thing that happens next?". My short stories without plots are fun for the opposite reason. "Where do I go next?" is a really fun question to ask yourself, because if you're just writing on idea over top of idea, well, the possibilities are endless.

It's nice to just give yourself time to get to know your characters. Like, even if you end up cutting the scene that gave you all that character development but not much else, you'll still have that. You'll still know that about the character. Writing these short stories gives me the freedom to write whatever the heck I want and if, for presentation purposes, most of it gets cut, the development still will have happened, you know?

This is one of the things about my novel that I had trouble with. I had this entire redemption arc in mind for a character. In my mind it happened. In the scenes that are actually described in the book, yeah, not so much. Because the plot I drew out for myself - and my determination to stick with it as much as possible - didn't really give me the freedom to develop the character and what they're all about, like, off-screen. (Ahah, if that's the right word to use for books...)

Basically what I'm trying to say is that, when it comes to short stories, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing.

So I pretty much do the equivalent of prancing around like this:

                                                                                                       until I come to some kind of ending. 

Maybe it's just too late for me to be awake right now, but I'm just sitting here giggling at that picture. 

But the freedom of doing it like that is really cool, and I usually end up pretty proud of the stories that come out of it. It just takes a LOT of patience. 

So, yeah! That's how you write short stories, kids!

If you're terrible at it. 

Or have no life. 

Or both. 

A Small Rant About Slam Poetry

So, my grandparents came over recently. And my grandma has been bugging me forever to give her a copy of my slam poem from english class last semester, because I got to perform it in front of the school and I came in second place with it (always second. Sigh.....) (But honestly, the kid who won is my friend, we were going to start a poetry club together, and his was SO SO GOOD. He totally deserved it).

But it occurred to me that my grandmother had never actually really had any experience with slam poetry. This seemed strange to me, kind of, and really hard to explain.

"Well, it's just reading them aloud, right?"

"No. Well, I mean, kind of..."

You write slam poetry to be slammed, right? They have a certain rhythm to them, a certain style of performance that's different than regular poetry. I demonstrated by slamming my poem for her, and she loved it (she has to, she's my grandmother), but I didn't think she really, y'know, got it, so I showed her a few examples of my personal favourite slam poems. And, for the sake of reference, and also because I love them, I'll show them here too, I guess...

This one is one of my ultimate favourites. The humour to draw you in, the softness that keeps you captivated, and that ending... fabulous.

This one is a little more gimmicky, but it is to make his point. And I can't help but love the way he performs it. George Watsky is just all around great.

This one's a little more grim, and I didn't show it to my grandmother for that reason, but it is masterful the way she pulls it all together. I get goosebumps every time.

I could go on and on with some of my favourite slam poems on Youtube (Siri: a Coping Mechanism by Patrick Roche is always good. 21 by him gives me chills. Etcetera.) but I want to get to my point.

After showing these to my grandma, she said she didn't like this style very much. And whatever, you know, she's entitled to her opinion. But I do remember her saying something about, "Poetry is supposed to be soft, you know... this sounds like rap without the music." (Which is funny because George Watsky actually is a rapper, and I think you can kind of tell...)

I don't want to argue with her, and I'm not making this post to argue with that opinion, but I just want to talk about the reasons that I love slam poetry. 

To me, words are always so much more powerful when they're given a voice. That's what makes slam poetry magical. It's one thing to read things on a page, but it's a whole other thing to hear people speaking it. It's the same reason Shakespeare makes that much more sense when spoken aloud, it's the same reason that I sometimes read aloud to myself when no one else is around. I love that they can give rhythm to it. It's like listening to music. When Watsky starts speeding up in his poem, for instance, it's a crescendo, a drum roll, because the final show-stopping number is coming up. When Megan Falley pauses in hers, you know we're moving into the key change, the part that'll change how you listen to it. I think the best way to put it, to talk about the comparison between rap and slam poetry is this: in rap, your voice is an instrument. In poetry, your voice is the music.

I like it because the people who write and perform these have the courage to not be soft about it. How often do people get up in front of crowds and open their hearts with such confidence, and how often are people as non-judgmental as the poetry slam audiences are? You can't get up in front of crowds and talk about assault with such confidence usually, but with poetry it's just different, somehow. Even the poem I slammed for the school, I like to think I performed it with confidence (in spite of the fact that my legs shook for minutes afterward), but if anyone wants to just talk with me about it, I get shy about it. Slam poetry is magic. 

So much more magical and so much more musical.

Hah. Funny. I talk about how I want poetry in my music, then talk about how I want music in my poetry. Wow. My mind has one track apparently, eh?

But, yeah. That's why I love slam poetry. Sure, something can be said for the more traditional, more "soft" style of poetry, but I definitely prefer slam poetry. I can appreciate the skill it takes to create a well-written poem within the rules and parameters of, for example, a sonnet, but to me, there's something terribly cold about reading these things off a page. Isn't there so much more warmth, and with that, power, in something that was designed to be heard instead of read? 

I definitely think so. 

Sharing Old Stuff 'Cause I'm Self-Absorbed

So I've been reading through some of my old stories and other pieces of writing (dear god, that awful, awful poetry....) and I found this from last semester. We were supposed to write short stories, which of course was no big deal for me, but they had to be SHORT short stories. The limit was 500 words. That seemed impossible for me, since, as you can probably tell from my blog, writing things under a 1000 words is almost a total impossibility. I remember struggling because I wanted it to be short, and snappy, but I needed it to make a really strong point as well, so it took me a long time to come up with something that worked. (I finally binge-wrote the thing in my science class. Honestly, without science class, I'd probably never write anything. Suppose I should thank science for being just that boring). Anyways, I'm pretty proud of how it ultimately turned out.

As tempting as it is, I'm not going to tell you what overall concept that got this story moving is, because I think the story speaks for itself. So, without further ado, here is:

Cliché

By Megan Hands

The call came in late one lazy, summer afternoon, and immediately Thomas Cruiser was out the door and rushing headlong into the fight for justice. The police car’s sirens flashed and wailed as he raced through the streets. Cars pulled over and people stopped and stared in awe as Cruiser pulled off a sharp turn that would have made a professional NASCAR racer weep. Before he knew it, he was in front of the endangered bank. As his steely eyes looked through the window, he saw the hostages on the floor as a man with a mask and a gun raved at them. Soon the other police cars were pulled up as well. They looked to Cruiser. Cruiser’s chiseled features were somber with the burden of duty. Then he nodded, and the officers pulled their guns as Cruiser kicked his way into the bank.

            “Stop where you are, scum!” Cruiser shouted, tracking the culprit with a gun and steely blue eyes. “Don’t move a muscle!”

            The robber didn’t listen. They never did. He hauled a busty, luscious-haired woman to her feet and pressed the gun to her head. “If you come any closer, I will pull the trigger!” he menaced, spittle flying from the hole in the mask where his mouth was. The woman closed her eyes, silently crying with terror.

            “Try it,” Cruiser said with ice in his voice, “I dare you.” Before the robber could, Cruiser aimed his gun low and shot the culprit in the foot. Not quite protocol, perhaps, but Cruiser didn’t play by the rules. Screaming, the robber dropped the woman and fell gracelessly backwards, staring at his foot, which now had a hole welling with blood so red it was black. Within a second, he was cuffed and being escorted roughly to the police car. Cruiser helped the woman to her feet as the other hostages rose unsteadily.

            “You saved me,” she said softly. Cruiser didn’t waver, though the woman made his heart stir. “It’s my job, miss,” he replied, and led her outside, where reporters were waiting with flashing cameras and heroic headlines.

            What he didn’t know was that the robber had cried when he’d put his dog down, and couldn’t kill a person to save his own life.

            What he didn’t know was that the robber had two children, who had gone on a ship with their grandparents and never returned.

            What he didn’t know was that the robber had a wife who was starving herself with grief.

            What he didn’t know was that the robber needed money to launch a search and rescue for his children, and every bank and person had turned him down, calling it a lost cause.

            What he didn’t know was that the robber would have done almost anything to see his children again.

            But what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. And now, neither could that nasty, evil robber.

And just for the record

this was 484 words. 

Take THAT, arbitrary word limit!





[SPOILER ALERT

IT'S THE AMBIGUITY OF MORALITY AND HOW WE COLLECTIVELY AND UNQUESTIONINGLY ACCEPT THE MORALITY OF THE VICTOR AS THE CORRECT ONE OKAY THERE I SAID IT I SPOUTED THE THEME I COULDN'T HOLD IT IN I'M SORRY IT'S JUST IMPORTANT TO ME.]