LJ Idol Exhibit A: Plot zombies!
They're always there, in the back of your mind. They're like zombies eating your brain until you let them out.
Then they turn into plot bunnies that crawl all over your fingers until you write them down, and you can't let go of them. Some are just too damn good! Even if you bury half of them under a dresser or six hoping they'll stay there.
But then the bunny--that's right, the novel you're working on--becomes a rabbit, and you have to try to catch it. Be careful, because it has claws, and it won't spare you just because your writing it! But you chase it anyway, begging it to slow down, to let you catch up. But it doesn't matter what you say, it still tries to kill you with its insanity, its warren of secrets and shadows. Shadows where surprises hide like half-hidden things, and lurk just beyond your reach. Ah, but there are other things to watch for!
Things like those bloody twists and turns! Oh, the twists and turns! The ones that leave you panting and sweaty, begging for mercy. then there are the ones that send you to the dert, Cursing as you lay sprawled out face first while your novel seems to laugh at you. You can't move, the most you can do is shake your metaphorical fist at it. But that seems to just amuse it more. It laughs harder, louder. Then runs away again. . .
But you still can't move. Nor can you throw back the little ones-the little ones that surround you now. Surround you with their silent cries of 'write meeee!' You...you can't. Because what if you throw back one that would turn big? Turn you into the best writer ever?
So you file away the little ones. . .
But then, ah, then. . .
They're always there, in the back of your mind. They're like zombies eating your brain until you let them out. . .
This is my home game submition for therealljidol Thank you for reading.
Then they turn into plot bunnies that crawl all over your fingers until you write them down, and you can't let go of them. Some are just too damn good! Even if you bury half of them under a dresser or six hoping they'll stay there.
But then the bunny--that's right, the novel you're working on--becomes a rabbit, and you have to try to catch it. Be careful, because it has claws, and it won't spare you just because your writing it! But you chase it anyway, begging it to slow down, to let you catch up. But it doesn't matter what you say, it still tries to kill you with its insanity, its warren of secrets and shadows. Shadows where surprises hide like half-hidden things, and lurk just beyond your reach. Ah, but there are other things to watch for!
Things like those bloody twists and turns! Oh, the twists and turns! The ones that leave you panting and sweaty, begging for mercy. then there are the ones that send you to the dert, Cursing as you lay sprawled out face first while your novel seems to laugh at you. You can't move, the most you can do is shake your metaphorical fist at it. But that seems to just amuse it more. It laughs harder, louder. Then runs away again. . .
But you still can't move. Nor can you throw back the little ones-the little ones that surround you now. Surround you with their silent cries of 'write meeee!' You...you can't. Because what if you throw back one that would turn big? Turn you into the best writer ever?
So you file away the little ones. . .
But then, ah, then. . .
They're always there, in the back of your mind. They're like zombies eating your brain until you let them out. . .
This is my home game submition for therealljidol Thank you for reading.