Johannes Punkt’s Flaskpost

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Month: December, 2012

Abigail

One of these days you will hurt someone. That day is crawling closer like a half-dead frog. She’s going to look you in the eye and say, that was wonderful. Your chest will heave and there will be the slightest hint of a blush on your pale cheeks in agreement and she will kiss you and you will smile and then the question.

You will answer.

And part of her will sting, her stomach will feel like it has shipwrecks in it, and her tongue will stick to the roof of her mouth and she will want to feel cleaner.

Thoughts on Conlanging

So, I wrote this story a long while ago: /vignettes/the-anywhere-machine-appendix-i-futureful-skyful/

If I were to construct a language, I would try to construct the living sun’s language and I would try to write the poem that I alluded to.

The Cekno had a language that grew from hir necessity to organise hir own thoughts, to cope with the dread that every aware enough being feels. As such it is not a good language for communicating with other entities, but good at writing poetry and arguments in. The writing would be constructed in circles, with characters (that could correlate to sounds if one wanted to speak it aloud) being the highs and lows in the wave that the circle is made of. Presumably, to write it, it would be easier to draw it as a line and then draw it once more as a circle. Eventually, people who learn the language would try to read squiggly lines and circles and it will be amazing.

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Red Tape

The Bureaucracy descended 30 years ago, devouring and mycolising all the northern hemisphere governments. There are maps of it but they do it no justice; not this self-duplicating, self-non-contained monster of a complex, that which laughs at wisdom and knowledge as we knew (thought we knew) it. The Bureaucracy always grows, and any attempt at finding out how it works further complicates it, for three new departments (heads) grow every time we define (cut off) the use of one department. That department then withers. The more necks it grows, the more blood simply fills them, that is how it works.

NaNoWriMo is over

The old Romans partied so hard at the end of the year that they had to have a few monthless months between the end of the old year and the start of the new year. Winter was the of the world. The old are not people to look up to.

I got some useful writing done. Certainly, more useful writing than I would have got done, had I not NaNoWriMoed. Now,about 20,000 or more of the 50,016 words I wrote are complete unredeemable bollocks, but a 2:3 useless:useful ratio ain’t half bad, I hear certain actually publisehed people hang around at 5:1. I might be misrepresenting interview snippets to make myself look better.

I didn’t go with The Great Onebyone very far. I had plotted at least 30,000 words and figured I would do that famous seat-of-the-pants thing that many writers do. I seem to suffer from brevititis, however, an at 6,000 words I was almost out of plot. Next year I will bring bullet lists and diagrams. I am still not sure how I managed to write >50,000 words on a single project in previous years, but somehow I did it. If I plan obsessively until next November, I might be able to make one idea stick for that much. The brevititis must be fought back though, so I better plan for thrice as many words as that. (Thank you, Jaymes.)

I inspired people and was inspired. I made friends. I made some terrible puns. I made some terrible puns at friends. I failed at creating trending hashtags on Twitter.

Shout out to Evan and the Ghost Bear, Eros Fountain, the Ministry of Plenty, Tiaxint, and a bunch of other things whose creators I respect a great deal.