“Greek Street: Blood Calls for Blood” review

Hello all.

Here is a link to my newest review on basement jockeys.  I hope you enjoy reading it.

“Greek Street: Blood Calls for Blood” Proves Promising

Thanks again!

UPDATE: “Basement Jockeys” is no longer in existence.  For a reproduction of the original review, continue reading below.

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Description Exercise– Part 2

This is an exercise I got from The Fiction Writer’s Workshop, by Josip Novakovich.  The idea is to practice prose by writing two sets of descriptions.  This is the second part of the exercise, which is to take some extraordinary or strange, and describe in familiar terms.

The only thing that makes this animal truly alarming is its size.  Otherwise it is a conglomeration of a few simpler organisms and objects already found in nature.  Its most distinguishing feature is its outer-top layer of protection.  Instead of skin, it possesses an array of dense, hard scales.  Very much like a fish, the scales overlap which protects the flesh from being pierced while allowing the animal to move.  Also like the scales of fish, this animal’s scales can be dull or shiny, and can come in a wide array of colors.  If the scales work like the shingles of a roof, then the animal’s underside could be compared to a hardwood floor.  Along the animal’s belly run long strips of skin, which are re-enforced with cartilage.  It’s essential for the animal to have an elastic but strong belly for its digestive system to work properly.  This animal uses fire to break down large chunks of food, in the same way that humans have stomach acid.  The strong belly must be able to prevent ulcers, which would be detrimental to its health, but must be flexible enough to allow the animal to expel excess flames.  This animal will need to expel any excess from once a month to several times a day, depending on its diet.

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Description Exercise– Part 1

This is an exercise I got from The Fiction Writer’s Workshop, by Josip Novakovich.  The idea is to practice prose by writing two sets of descriptions.  This is the first set, which is to take mundane objects and describe them in an extraordinary manner.

It reflects silver and white whatever approaches it.  The reflections themselves are long, and mostly red—the white skirts across the images, almost causing them to fade completely.  The white reduces reflections to ghost, distorts them further.  The reflections are long because the object which captures them is long and rounded—it stands as an imperfect cylinder.  Its top slides inward to its plateaued top; the bottom pulls into the slightly narrower base in the same way.  The writing on its sides runs both vertically and horizontally.  Some of the letters flow free and curved—others are restricted by their box shape, if they aren’t in a box (which some of them are).  It’s these restricted, measured words that can potentially unlock the secrets of the nectar which the object contains.  The words reveal that this object is but a receptacle to a greater, more powerful secret.  To access this secret, one must pierce the top of the receptacle using an affixed key—the key itself vaguely resembles the sign of infinity, the number “8.”  The secret is not nectar, but rather a drink.  It is a drink, yes, but a drink that tastes of insanity yet comfort.  A drink that is dead, but writhes and boils in the mouth and forms rapids down the throat.  The drink is cold, yet it bubbles and boils—boils without burning.  If left to sit in its opened receptacle, it drains of this fantastic energy.  The cold boil grows warm, and it grows flat.  The energy will be gone from it.

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Old Animal Exercise

This is an old exercise I found on my computer.  This was another product of Cousin Hugo’s, where we were to describe an animal.  I thought it would be appropriate for my upcoming exercises in description, which will be posted tomorrow and on Wednesday, May 25.  Enjoy!

Its noise doesn’t come from the padded feet—no, its noise resonates deep within the chamber of its body, a low rumble of pleasure.

It views the world with acute crescent eyes.

Its fur glides the same way it moves, so smooth and so soft it’s almost as if there’s nothing beneath it.

It carries no distinct smell, yet its presence can cause the eyes to itch, the throat to burn, the nose to run—all by mere wisps of that smooth and silent fur.

It stalks, and it has no pity for its victims.  Sharp claws and sharp little white teeth are the last things the prey feel being racked across the body.  And then it is darkness.



“13 Assassins” Review

Hello, all.

Be sure to check out my newest review on Basement Jockeys, or just follow the link:

13 Assassins Adds New Depth to the Samurai Genre

Thanks again for reading!

UPDATE: The site “Basement Jockey’s” is no longer in existence.  Below is a reproduction of my original 13 Assassins review.

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Object Exercise– Part 2

This is the first part to a writing exercise I learned in a fiction workshop.  The point of this exercise is to find some object of personal meaning or value to you, write out all of your personal attachment to this object (how you came by it, why it’s important to you, etc), and then write another story about the same object that has nothing to do with your personal relationship with it.  Not only is this then a great exercise for creating a story, but it also helps writers to detach themselves from their work.

This is the fiction portion.  Enjoy!

Magenta the frog hopped into her room the night Ali’s father left.  Ali had heard the door creak open, felt Magenta’s light thumps across the floor, before the frog landed in Ali’s bed, just next to the pillow.  Magenta had whispered to her—in that deep, soothing voice like a secret—that everything would be okay.

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Object Exercise- Part 1

This is the first part to a writing exercise I learned in a fiction workshop.  The point of this exercise is to find some object of personal meaning or value to you, write out all of your personal attachment to this object (how you came by it, why it’s important to you, etc), and then write another story about the same object that has nothing to do with your personal relationship with it.  Not only is this then a great exercise for creating a story, but it also helps writers to detach themselves from their work.

This is the non-fiction portion of that exercise.  The fiction part should be out this Sunday.

There is a magenta frog which sits atop my printer.  Only its top side is magenta; its underside—all the way up to its lower jaw—and the area around its stickered black eyes are beige.  Between the magenta and the beige a thin, red piece of fabric runs; it serves as a mouth, or possibly lips.  The frog certainly doesn’t appear anatomically correct, as it sits almost a foot high.  It stays seated perpetually—could it jump, the height would be tremendous.  Its skin is made of some velvety material, and the webs of its feet are seamed in.  The frog’s nostril holes are two black knots.  The frog is cheaply made, and would not have lasted the past six years had it been owned by a child.

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