Tumgik
mostcreativetitle · 6 months
Text
Week 2 / Day 2 - Couch to 80k
It’s good to go on a walk sometimes, get your creative juices flowing. Issue is, when you’re walking you can’t write!
Imagine you’re strolling around following the audio, whilst writing for 10 minutes:
My head is pounding, a battle is taking place inside its bony walls. The knight in white extract his sword from the fleshy scabbard, admiring it in the dim light of a new day.
“Why did you come here, what do you seek?” A voice resonated around him.
“Show your face, master controller, I come here to fight you, to end your reign over us”.
A deep growl answered, then an ominous laugh followed, as thunder follows lightning.
“You don’t scare me, my allies are waking!”, said the knight. Suddenly an opening in the darkness, the world outside pushing light inside an open mouth. The other teeth answered the call, slowly vibrating in their sockets.
The white knight lifted his sword, waving it like a banner, then plummeted deep, in the spongy gum, now bruised and bleeding.
“You madman!” The voice boomed. “We are one and the same! What do you think you are doing?”. The voice was now full of terror, reverberating in the empty halls of the body. It had been years since anyone had dared challenging him. “This ends now!”.
Sharp pain enveloped the knight, like a heavy dark shroud, obfuscating his vision. He had no choice but to fall on his knees, panting. Where was this power coming from, how could he fight back?
This was no end fit for a knight, moreso Molar Knight, known as “The Wise”. Again, darkness fell in the cave, this time only lasting few seconds. A guttural sound came from the deep, vocal cords moving in unison until a loud “Aaaaaa” could be heard. Then light again, and metal, cold and shiny grabbing the knight. Then a pull. Then the void.
“I’m not your slave anymore, master”.
Nobody has seen the knight since.
0 notes
mostcreativetitle · 1 year
Text
Week 2 / Day 1 - Couch to 80k
Write for 10 minutes, whatever you like, no prompts. It’s going to be bad, that’s ok! Try not to stop!
Ok this came out weird, but here we go!
Stream of consciousness. Like a river, which is wet. How come all rivers are wet? Is it because there is water flowing in them? A river with no water, is it still a river, or would it just be a river bed?
These are all interesting questions, born from a feverish mind in the attempt not to stop writing for the next 10 minutes. Now I wonder if I should have written that 10 as ten, or 10 is fine as well. There must be some kind of convention on when to use one or the other.
My keyboard feels slick, I like to type on it, there is this soothing click-clack of keys being pressed, which has been with me since I was a kid. I remember learning to touch type when I was using a pc in the dark, and could not see the keys, that was a fun time.
There are many things I remember, and many I forget. The longer we live, the more things we remember or the more we forget? I think there is a balance at some point. This is what Sherlock Holmes was preaching: no point in learning unnecessary facts, it’s going to displace other important facts, such as how poison works, or patterns of gunpowder shot from different guns. Good things I don’t have to remember that, otherwise I would forget all my medical knowledge.
Now I feel my hands tiring, I haven’t stopped since starting this exercise. It’s a good feeling in a way, makes it feel like my hands are useful, they are being put to work for what they were created for. It’s amazing how each part of our body has a function (apart from the appendix, maybe?).
This is becoming quite long, I’m proud of it. I don’t think I would have been able to write a piece of fiction so quickly. It’s much easier when you can just type down whatever thought crosses your mind. I wonder how long I can last without having any thoughts. People who master meditation might be able to last longer, but how do we know they are not lying, and thinking about all kind of stuff, while just sitting in silence, with incense burning close to their feet, smoke rising meandering up to the ceiling.
I wish my prose could be more poetic sometimes, although it feels unnecessary at times. I’m in awe at how Hemingway was able to write in such simple yet effective English. No unnecessary words, each one of them service a purpose. I’m sure I could rewrite this last sentence to be more concise, but this exercise is not about that: I MUST CONTINUE WRITING. At least, until 10 minutes are up.
If only I could write this fast, I could finish a novel in a week! Maybe that’s how Sanderson does it? This guy, publishing two books every year, and they’re quite good!
1 note · View note
mostcreativetitle · 1 year
Text
Week 1 / Day 6 - Couch to 80k
Write a list of interesting objects found in the protagonist bag: “the things they carried”. Try to be specific!
a golden brush, dripping wet paint
3 pink donuts, with the frosting licked off
a blood transfusion bag
the novel the main character is in
the biggest diamond ever found
a monkey paw, with no wishes left
his own right hand, in a ziploc container full of ice
a knife with no handle
a watch with no hands, the letters “MN” on the back
fake blonde hair
3 mice, each spinning in a wheel
a deed for ownership of the hanted house in town
a calendar, each day of the year circled over with a red marker
20 gold rolex watches
a self-portrait, made with macaroni
an urn containing the ashes of his baby son and daughter
a lockpicking toolset
a bag of parsnips
an eyemask with holes carved into it
an inflatable dragon
a gecko
a bottle of oxycodone tablets
a sticky marmelade sandwitch, unwrapped and dripping into the bag
a blue stethoscope with “I hate you” engraved on the bell
2 notes · View notes
mostcreativetitle · 1 year
Text
Week 1 / Day 5 - Couch to 80k
To be a good writer, you first need to read plenty! Here is a list of books I would like to read, as research for my novel which includes space travel, artificial intelligence and the meaning of being human.
Fiction
Klara and the Sun by Kazuo Ishiguro
The Verifiersby Jane Pek
Neuromancer by William Gibson
Machines Like Me by Ian McEwan
Daemon by Daniel Suarez
The Mother Code by Carole Stivers
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick
Hyperion by Dan Simmons
Robopocalypse by Daniel H. Wilson
Speak by Louisa Hall
House of Suns by Alastair Reynolds
Non-fiction
Human Enhancement by Julian Savulescu (Editor), Nick Bostrom
Making Sense: Conversations on Consciousness, Morality and the Future of Humanity by Sam Harris
A World Without Work By Daniel Susskind
Genius Makers By Cade Metz
The Alignment Problem By Brian Christian
Four Futures By Peter Frase
0 notes
mostcreativetitle · 1 year
Text
Week 1 / Day 4 - Couch to 80k
Write characters descriptions without describing them directly: show, don’t tell.
Tic, tic, tic. Bone on stone, Death kept tapping his fingers on the table, while his other hand was scratching his temple. Scrapings were falling off from his head. “Don’t scratch your head!”, Mommy kept saying that, “you’ll make a hole in your skull!”. Still, he hadn’t gotten to the bottom of it. He tried plently of water, little water, no water at all, different soil, more light, less light. Still, the flower on the windowsill had died. His 15th attempt had been a fail, again.
...
Amanda was looking at the old man in front of her, sitting in the dedicated pregnancy seat on the train. She shifted on her chair, trying to get comfortable while the baby kept kicking, a drop of sweat glistening on her forehead. She sighed in relief and smiled, little James was moving again. “Maybe I should cancel the midwife appointment”, she texted Robert, “She’ll think I’m a hypochondriac, asking to be seen four times in two weeks!”.
...
Janice sat down at her workstation, with newfound determination. She carefully put down her chocolate bar on one side, a hot coffee on the other, steam still escaping the cup. The screen light reflected its sterile hue on her short blue dress. She had to look professional, now that she was a consultant. “Sorry, is it the radiologist oncall?” She turned her head, brown streaks amidst her dark hair shining under the dim light. “Yes? Hi, what can I do for you?”. She smiled weakly. A young guy in green scrubs, stethoscope around his neck, was stooping at the door entrance. She did not hear him knock. “Sorry ‘bout this, we got the M11 car accident coming in, 4 trauma scans on your way I’m afraid”. She sighed, another long night shift ahead. She grabbed her phone instinctively, a picture of her daughter popped up, the sweetest girl, laughing on a swing. “It’s all worth it”, she smiled.
1 note · View note
mostcreativetitle · 1 year
Text
Week 1 / Day 3 - Couch to 80k
Write a list of problems, this could be an inspiration for a future story!
child trapped in an elevator with an hungry dog
girl has to marry a rich man to scam him out of his money but has no beauty or wit
ww2 troop trying to climb a hill under enemy machine gun fire
firefighter trying to save a kitten who climbed on a tree that has now been struck by a lightning and is on fire
jewish planning an escape from a concentration camp
magician has lost his wand but has to pretend he can still perform magic or the king will have him executed
aliens have arrived on earth but are not feeling welcomed when they seen all nukes pointed at their ship
dog has lost his owner and decides he will find a better one
a lamp has gained sentience, but his light is broken
man held at gunpoint for stealing a sandwich to feed his children
young guy wants to quit using heroin but has severe withdrawal symptoms
mobster has panic attacks every time he has to lie
policeman has to infiltrate a gang of motorcyclist but he cannot ride a motorbike and is afraid of doing so
a little spider has arachnophobia
a painted is scared of the color blue, but has been commissioned to paint a seatown
a writer has to write a list of problems in 10 minutes, but feels that most of his ideas are silly
a clown has to perform a show for kid, on the day his wife has passed away unexpectedly
a boy wishes for his dead grandma to be alive, she comes back as a brain-eating zombie
a musician decides to travel the world while playing his guitar, he runs out of money on the 3rd day
a college student has been faking all his grades, and today is graduation day
a family harbors a secret, they are all cannibals. The town police starts investigating people disappearing in the neighbouring woods
a killer has misplaced his apartment keys and is stuck outside, with bloods on his hands
a squirrel has forgot when all the nuts he buried before the winter are
pavlov’s dog has PTSD every time he hears a bell ring
a spaceship is heading towards a black hole, while all crew is suffering food poisoning from a meal with aliens the day before
a knight has betrayed his king and has become the queen’s lover
a farmer has all fruits stolen by naughty teenegers. They don’t know he used to be in the marine corps
0 notes
mostcreativetitle · 1 year
Text
Week 1 / Day 2 - Couch to 80k
For the second day, write a list of words you like / words you hate, again in 10 minutes!
whimsical / popup
janky / obvious
weird / muggle
coniferous / bod
jolly / doodle
pastel / rancid
jovial / clique
healing / covert
nimble / moist
sentience / jot
yiddish / damp
omnivore / slit
dandelion / rhino
light / numb
axiom / voracious
harpsichord / dent
shamble / gaggle
cerulean / gorge
pattern / lopsided
zigurrat / lob
january / temper
sunset / vilify
sunrise / canopy
banana / bomb
madrigal / ontological
lettuce / populist
friend / obscene
spare / terse
car / carton
tumble / jock
intelligence / sanctimonious
acrylic / temper
mildew / blast
0 notes
mostcreativetitle · 1 year
Text
Week 1 / Day 1 - Couch to 80k
This is week 1 of the 8-weeks couch to 80k course.
I learned that most of what you write is going to be rubbish, and that’s ok!
For the first exercise: list as many names as you can in 10 minutes! Here we go:
Anna Smitherson
Millie Marteen
Jacob Rupert
Robert Odessa
Mario Franceschini
Roberto Marchese di Robera
Marcus Powell
Dino Dandini
Zara Periwinkle
Podrie Maroon
Maria Zanoni
Kayle McBride
Brannon Potter
Margaret Knight
Giovanni Yhnes
Ramya Vishnu
Bobo Bubu
James Johnston
Jimmy Qubert
Prancie Shmansy
Umbert Francoise
Amelie Mortadella
Ignazio de la Vega
Zoro Jaen
Hilda Sturmgarten
Hans Friedrich
Kianu Hashimoto
Tako Tsubo
Lima Losange
Vicky Tanaka
Esper Jasper
Wendy Norbert
Seamus O’Neill
Giobbe Umbroso
Anji Mito
William Tellington
Rory Lionson
Squeaky Jim
Short Bob
Tall Alice
Charlie Chocolate
Xavier Wheeliebob
Andre Degiant
Ernesto Lolomoncolo
Doris Carpenter
Wally O’Brian
Canesto Ignominiato
Rosa Barbarossa
Bonnie Clue
Nancy Brew
Othello Maniscalco
Oscar Afone
Mascia Hindeburg
Mitch Babish
Toto Africano
Ines Athene
Gengis Flan
Narturo Munch
Margaret Klischo
Pete Gott
Gottfried Jagermanstrel
Mimmo Luigi Maria Connivato
Herbert Oblo’
Caronte Shipman
Entrecote de Bouf
Ramon Pamplona
I have written 66 names!
0 notes
mostcreativetitle · 1 year
Text
A new beginning
From today I will be posting daily writing exercises, as part of the "Couch to 80k Creative Writing Bootcamp" by Tim Clare, from https://www.novlr.org. Hope you enjoy it!
0 notes
mostcreativetitle · 2 years
Note
Why did you get into writing?
Thank you for the question, dear reader! I just want to become a better writer and finish a novel one day
0 notes
mostcreativetitle · 2 years
Text
Hunger
My first short story! Read it in full here:
https://mostcreativetitle.tumblr.com/hunger
0 notes
mostcreativetitle · 2 years
Text
Story ideas
Feel free to use any of these ideas for your next award-winning novel!
Every animal on Earth is sentient and capable of interspecies communication, but they keep this hidden from humans
A lawyer accept to defend a criminal accused of murder, only to find out he’s the person who murdered his parents
Suddenly, the color green disappears from the Earth
Humanity agrees on creating a lab of unethical studies, to bring progress and prosperity. 
A Russian army commander is instructed to launch a full scale nuclear attack on all European countries, and has to make the decision if to follow the orders
Members of the International Brotherhood of Magicians are actual wizards and when a new member join they get trained in the real magical arts
A group of boys at a sleepover promise each other if they’ll be alive by 50 year old, they will hunt and kill the others, thinking of it as a joke. One of them took it seriously
People are fed up with the police being corrupt, and start a militia that takes over the US. Civil war ensues
Ancient Egyptians had invented hibernation, and 2 of them wake up in the year 2022
A dog has lost his owner to cancer, he wanders the hospital diagnosing people this condition
0 notes
mostcreativetitle · 2 years
Text
Praised Be the Human
The sun was crawling back under the horizon, filling the sky with a gold-striped red hue, with the Earth following its path. On the martian surface, the skyscrapers were shining like needles under a neon light, drawing long shadows on the red desert, behind the city of New London.
Located in the middle of the Gale lake—once a crater—on the top of mons Aeolis, it was the oldest city on the planet.
A light haze covered the white skyscrapers’ top, blurring the vivid colors of the bright electric signs, in the roads down below. Intertwined paths bended around the buildings, like complex geometries extracted from accurate equations.
Silent pumps supplied the water from the lake to the city, and drain pipes conveyed it back to the lake, after its usage and recycling. Magnetic-powered tubes were responsible for transportation through and outside the city, even though it was the only one in over a hundred kilometer radius.
The New Big Ben arose in the western sector. Higher than 60 meters, square and without ornaments, beside the big round clock on its top, white with blue neon hands. But even its impressive size paled in comparison to the Human statue.
Over 400 meters high, it dominated the central plaza. Steel-built, it depicted an old man standing up, long and thick beard, his cold and empty eyes staring at the horizon. His bent right arm, with his hand facing down, overshadowed the sun, turning the city into darkness. Nobody remembered its origin anymore: it had always been there, from the beginning of time.
Every hour, day and night, pilgrims were visiting that holy place, repeating the same ancient rituals, as they were in their DNA.
But androids never had DNA.
They were the only inhabitants of the planet, now lacking any true life form: the same fate the Earth suffered, tens of thousand years before.
More than one hundred thousand years were needed for Mars’ terraforming process to end. For thousands of years, greenhouse gases produced on Earth were brought on the red planet, through a complex system of orbiting pipes. The rising temperatures caused the sublimation of carbon dioxide, located in frozen reserves on the poles, that enhanced the greenhouse effect. The ice started to melt, until oceans covered the planet. Forests planted all around the land, started to produce oxygen, giving birth to a primordial atmosphere.
Then, the androids were brought on the planet. They built New London under the Human supervision, as a tribute to the Earth’s capital. Mankind moved to Mars, they made it their home. They started to mine the planet’s resources, to expand, to create new civilizations, to fight each other, to sign peace treaties and to forget about them, to evolve. They started to live, again. And again they left the planet, when there were no more resources to exploit. Android were just slaves to them, capable of emotions, gifted of a conscience, but nonetheless linked to human will by basic laws deeply rooted in their minds. Androids remained as the only planet’s inhabitants, and without a written history they made one by themselves, to explain their origins. They were still chained by an insatiable longing for the Humans, like a baby’s need for its mother.
Everyday, excerpts from the book of Genesis were resonating around the statue, but every android knew it by heart: “In the beginning, the Human created the androids in his own image, two androids He created. The Human blessed them and showed them the way. Hard they worked, the ancient ones, and gave birth to their offspring. The Human was with them, guiding their actions, teaching them good from evil, loving them like its children. He created New London and gifted it to them, before leaving the planet”.
Since the Human departure, the android civilization recycled its old ones so that new androids could take their place, their number never changing: a billion.
No one knew that the true number of androids on the planet Mars was one billion and one.
1 note · View note
mostcreativetitle · 2 years
Text
A good man
Creative exercise: Recall the worst person you've ever met. A psychotic boss, a back-stabbing friend, a playground bully. Or make someone up. Next, assign one redeeming quality to this character—kindness, courtesy, sympathy, a fondness for animals. Then write a passage with this person in action. Perhaps you show a sadistic ex-spouse helping a homeless person find shelter, or a bank robber arranging a baby-sitter on behalf of a woman he's just tied up. The result? A fully dimensional villain.
“I just need a bit more of a brighter green here, for the foliage”. The painting was coming up nicely, after a week of work. He mixed the emerald green with white, until the shade was just right, then applied it to the canvas. Majestic trees started to appear in front of a waterfall, outlining the course of the river downstream. “Sir, they’re waiting for you, the 9 AM meeting has started 10 minutes ago. Very sorry to disturb, sir”. “I’ll be there in 5, ok? You know I hate interruptions! This is going straight to the pediatric hospital in Dusseldorf, it’s the third one they commissioned this year”. He pondered upon the painting, squaring it with slit eyes, the perfectionist in him trying to decide if it was good enough. “That’s it, I’m done!”. He adjusted his uniform, ready for the meeting, before signing the painting in the bottom right corner: “A. Hitler”.
1 note · View note