I said I wouldn’t reblog the news, but I said nothing about writing commentary 😛
I keep telling myself to stop reblogging the news, but… Yeah, this is worth it. Mr Haji, I know you say that you just did what anyone would do, but that doesn’t change that you’re a hero.
Exclusive: American family the Waltons have told how they were rescued from the
siege at Nairobi’s Westgate mall by a man who has been hailed a hero. Aislinn
Faced with a long afternoon trapped in the house with her five children last Saturday, Katherine Walton decided on a quick excursion – a trip to Nairobi’s popular Westgate Mall.
On arriving together, her two teenage boys briefly went ahead with Mrs Walton following with her three daughters including four-year-old Portia.
Portia Walton is helped to escape by Abdul Haji GORAN TOMASEVIC/REUTERS
Four hours later, the family lay pinned to the ground opposite the supermarket where they did their weekly shop as gunmen hurled grenades and sprayed bullets just yards from them.
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“I never liked the phrase ‘looking down on’ something. It’s supposed to mean that someone feels smug and superior, sees themselves as above the concerns of another. But to me, looking down implies you care enough to see where someone lesser is. After all, the greatest damage is caused not by the man who looks at the ants to know how high he is. It’s caused by the man who doesn’t even look at what he steps on. Me? I look down on mortals. But I don’t look to know how high I am – I look to see where I step.”
-Onore, Goddess of Light and Law
This is something I wrote to try and show Onore’s sense of – for lack of a better term coming into my head at the moment – noblesse oblige. Basically, “I’m better than you in every way, but intend to help you because it’s the right thing to do.” In addition, the speech is written in such a way that you could hand it to a villian and it would still work. This is a huge part of Onore as a public figure – to her people, she is practically benevolence incarnate, a beacon of light and law within an unending sea of blackness and chaos. To everyone else, though, she is a misguided despot who only thinks herself good.
What do you guys think? Good, bad, stupid?
One of my favorite songs =) Thanks SFox!
I don’t think I’ve ever gotten an entire story from a single image, as you describe here, but I’ve gotten characters from it. For instance:
-A man with arrows of light and a bow of gold. The image is seen from the side, with only one shut eye visible, and yet I know that both are shut. He is in a forest, and only the shadows greet him. This is Silent Mask, my Night Caste exalted (Later I found out that the image in my head was pretty much taken from Keychain of Creation… except the previous archer was a deathknight. And a girl)
-A pegasus pony, singing and dancing with a microphone in one hoof. His left wing is metal, and lightning strikes the ground around him. The world seems to swirl, and colors are in high contrast (either very dark or very bright). This is Lone Star, a pegasus juggernaut who can sing to warp reality around him.
-A city on a cliff, of white stone. At the bottom of the cliff lay an azure sea, and from a high tower shines a golden light. In the distance, I see a forest, and I feel… at peace. This is Lampide, city of Onore the sun goddess.
Things like that.
In a recent interview for his new book Joyland, Stephen King mentioned that one way he starts a story is that he starts with an image. In the case of Joyland, the image was of a boy on a beach with the sun setting. It took a couple of years apparently, but that image expanded to include a theme park and that’s how His Scary Highness came up with what would become a summer bestseller.
These past 24 hours I had a similar experience that allowed me to come up with an idea for a story. It started last night as I was going to bed. I was hypnotizing myself to sleep (yes, I know how to do that) and one of the commands I gave myself to help facilitate sleep was to let random images form in my head, “as if from a dream”. And among the images that…
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As someone who’s spent most of his writing career (so far) writing individual scenes, I have to agree. A shorter story can be just as satisfying as a full novel, if not moreso.
I always hated short stories.
I considered reading a short story like going out to dinner and only ordering an appetizer. Want a real meal? Eat a goddamn novel. – Jacob Tomsky
I came to the short story late. It wasn’t til this year, 2013, at the age of 38, that I finally began to appreciate this form.
I don’t remember exactly when it began. Three ingredients fell into a pot over a period of months – Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast, Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House and subsequent suggestions that I read “The Lottery,” my quest to read Southern women – and a delicate broth began to bubble. It was thin at first, but as it perked and popped, as it reduced and thickened, its flavor deepened, became more complex, more surprising, and more pleasurable than I thought a humble soup could be.
Like Tomsky, quoted above…
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I wuv my doggie =3