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Writing Exercise: Generic Worldbuilding

Erin Penn

Image acquired from Qwertee.com

Earlier this month I ranted about Generic Worldbuilding. It’s easy to say “fix it,” but how? The how is “writer magic,” and like all “magic” we are talking skill – and skills take practice. Time for a writing exercise!

WRITING EXERCISE: Picture a generic scene (sci-fi, fantasy, or subgenre thereof) with two people/beings traveling from one location to another.

Once you have it in mind, go back and think how to make the world the next level.

For example: Do the vampires and werewolves get along – does the pack mentality work well in cities while the loner vampires get drawn to the rural communities? Does the FTL travel make whales randomly appear above planets with potted plants? Why do the longer-lived species tolerate the new human upstarts? How does the hero’s personality change how they approach their superpower, say a construction worker vs. a computer geek?

Write the scene. You may need to rewrite the scene to push it as far as you can. Adding, remove, change or replace words without changing the basic premise of two people traveling. 

Please post your results below. Remember, don’t read other people’s version until you do your own.

READING EXERCISE: Watch a TV show, attend a play or movie, or read a book. What are the “generic” aspects of the genre presented? How did the storyteller add a layer of worldbuilding?

***

My generic trip has a generic cranky dwarf with a generic snooty magic user and their usual hate of each other.

Rating: Mature (Language)

Title: Dwarf and the Wizard

Typical of traveling with wizards, the car stalled.

“Can’t you pull in that mystic aura of yours a little bit?” I snapped as I pulled my trusty Honda onto the shoulder while other cars sped by on the curving interstate.

He sneered. “We can’t all be dwarves and technologically gifted.”

“We can’t all be assholes, either.” I mutter under my breath, knowing his human ears couldn’t hear me talking into my beard. Why the Masters of the Mine needed this particular mage was below my dig level, but if this keeps up I will double my price next retrieval I get assigned. Very few dwarves tolerate going above ground; I’m one of the cursed few without agoraphobia, so I got sent out of the mines a lot.

Not all humans are bad, mind you. But this one wanted to epitomize everything dwarves hate in magic-users. I grumbled as I opened the door, then hopped down onto the asphalt. I preferred concrete; the stones in the dust solution could still be talked to. Asphalt was as slick and nasty as the wizard I was transporting.

I walked to the front of the hatchback, dragging a hand over the steel body trying to see deeper into the metal parts before opening the hood. I had rebuilt the engine myself on the 1978 Civic; my grumbled turned into a growl when I saw the damage the mage had done on my water-cooled engine after I propped the hood open. He hadn’t attempted to control any of his bleedoff. I’ve transported more than one magic-user and knew I was in for a spark plug change and electrical system review after the short three-hundred-mile trip, but this mess!

I don’t have a temper, not like the Redbeard clan or the Twisted Picks, but I stalked to the passenger side and pulled the skinny-ass twinkle finger out of my vehicle and tossed him onto the narrow grassy berm.

“How dare you!” we yelled in unison. His face flushed as his hand started to twist and words beyond words spewed from the faker’s mouth.

“Don’t.” I growled, pointing up. We had been going through a cutout in the mountains, one of those areas with the signs which say “Watch out for falling rocks.” Humans inflicted a scar on the rocks which begged me for healing. One simple flick of thought would release an avalanche.

The knob bobbed in his hairless throat as he swallowed, lowering his hands.

“That’s better.” I approached my charge. “Now, here is how it is going to work. You are going to sit right there and mediate. Pull all your shit in and tuck it in the little box inside your puny brain I know all your slaggers have. You got an hour because that is how long it’s going to take me to fix what your inconsiderate, STUPID actions have done to the car. Once the car is fixed, you will get in and not.say.another.word. to me. Ever.”

I stared him in the eyes like he was a lightless cave. “Nod if you understand.”

(512 words – first publication 7/25/2017)

Flash: The Antichrist’s Big Sister Blog – Part 2

Erin Penn

Rating: Mature

I know, I know, it hasn’t been so long since I wrote about my little problem being a big sister to the Antichrist. But I just wanted to let you know.

I turned eighteen yesterday!

This is big! Huge! AWESOME! I am now my own legal person!

I can walk up to my father and let him know he is a total dick. … Okay, I have done that a lot already, but now I can say it and never worry about having to go to Christmas dinner at his house ever again. Yes, I know I said he didn’t visit me at my house. But that didn’t mean he didn’t make my mother drive and drop me over his house for every holiday just to deprive her of having me for family time at Thanksgiving, Christmas, and even Mother’s Day. Did I mention my bio dad is a total dick?

My mom can now move out of the county, even out of state, if she wants. A HUGE deal!

Oh, and as a legal person, this morning I told the judge if he didn’t enforce back child support and the agreement to keep me in health insurance and college tuition and spending cash until I was twenty-four like the original divorce papers agreed and daddy dearest can afford, the newspaper was going to get a not-so-anonymous exclusive about what was going on. He sneered, since the local paper is run by his cousin. But the Herald is not, and his superiors in the State House read the Herald. White face in black robes, very funny.

Being a legal person is totally AWESOME!

I admit, I was nervous about the judge thing. Contempt of court, life-long enemies and all that. I brought my step-dad as witness.

Okay, I will let you wrap your head around that.

I brought Satan as backup.

Are you good with that?

Satan … gots my back.

Can I continue?

Okay.

You might think Satan would be all for corrupt leaders. Thing is the judicial asswipe was not doing his job because of friendship and love, so the horned one was good with my actions. He also gets his jollies off on the whole intimidation, threatening thing. The running to the press, not his favorite option. He has indicated a mixed relationship with the media, loves the spinning, but not the basic premise of seeking the truth.

Overall, I think we were both happy about our little family excursion to the courthouse. I know he was fit to burst with pride, pride being his biggest downfall, when I stopped on the way out to change my last name to the one he is using with my mom. Morningstar has such a better ring to it than Hendricks.

Of course, being eighteen is not all fun and games. The horned guy indicated he wouldn’t mind if I had sexual relations, which I kind-of expected, with my brother, which I kind-of didn’t expect. I mean … ew!

Seems like incest is awesome for shaping a person down the wrong path. Especially if initiated at a young age. Billy is six.

Did I mention yesterday was his birthday too? Both born on the winter solstice. Horned guy says we were born during the deepest dark. My mother, back when she was Glenda the Good, said I was born the day light starts growing again.

Anyhow, I told my step-dad unequivocally no, not going to happen. Not me with him, not me with my brother, not him with my brother. And if anything happened to my bro, any sexual predator so much as touches my brother, I would personally cut off his black balls and tell my mother what happened and then give her his balls to do with as she saw fit.

His eyes had been doing that fire dance thing until I mentioned telling mom and giving his balls to her.

Mom, the Bride of Satan. That title comes with some powers; I don’t think Satan thought things through on that end when they exchanged wrist cuffs. Well, okay, manacles. You don’t think Satan slipped a ring on my mom’s finger in a church did you? A white wedding it was NOT.

I told him he could throw Lilith at Billy when he was eighteen, hell, he could give Billy both Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift or whatever slut he wanted when Billy was eighteen.  But if he so much as let one of his sick perverts touch my brother before the big one –eight, I would fucking crucify him.

Crucifixion, not something the horned guy wants to mimic. He’s got his pride. Like I said, his biggest downfall.

Sorry about the cursing. Step-dad encourages it every chance he gets. And I respect him. Kind-of like kids taking up smoking because their parents do even when they know it’s bad for them. I’m going to go away to college in the hopes to reduce his bad influence.

Speaking of bad influence, he did offer me some male versions of sluts as my birthday present. You know, something to take to college. I think he is embarrassed I didn’t lose my cherry at the Junior prom. Feels like he failed me as a dad.

Trust me, he could never fail me as badly as my bio dad does.

Anyhow, I turned him down on the giftwrapped morsels. A few were demons that were truly panty-soaking dreams. It was hard, but I turned all of them down.

Don’t give me that look. You know the “how can you find demons hot?” look. 

Hello, demons are angels. Only they traded in their wings and halos for dicks so they can fuck the Daughters of Man.

These men, these demons, oh cripes, what can I use to describe them …

I think this may help. These guys, males, angels, whatever, thought dicks were better than halos, and fucking is better than flying. And they still do – after thousands of years experience. They still love to fuck and believe it is better than being in heaven. And their Boss told them to fuck me if I wanted. Teach me everything they know. Make it so much fun I will be totally converted to the cause. Make their perfect angelic bodies available to my beck and call for all time. Think about all the implications of that for a mature, but still hormone-ridden, teenage woman.

Go on, take a moment.

Panties wet yet?

And I still turned them down.

I also took two phone numbers, in case I changed my mind.

Hey, a woman’s prerogative.

The last two days have been some of the best days of my life.

I cannot wait to see where this goes.

I got so many plans!!!

Watch out world! The Antichrist’s Big Sister, the Daughter of the Bride of Satan, just turned eighteen and is ready to take you on!

 (words 1,152 – first published 4/8/2013, republished in new blog format 7/23/2017)

Geeking Science: Edible Cutlery

Erin Penn

From the Manufacturer’s Website: http://www.bakeys.com (note: site often has bandwidth problems)

Soon I will be starting my annual trip where I work for a non-profit. Nearly three weeks of camping and in that time I will use a lot of plastic one-shot stuff because of limited ability to clean things safely. My “vacation” will produce a trash/carbon footprint more than three months of my normal life. I hate choosing personal health over planetary health, but a girl’s gotta live – I mean that literally and figuratively. Between lack of refrigeration, lack of running water, and lack of sleep, I have few options.

Bread Bowl from pillsbury.com

But soon I may have a different option for my breakfast spoon and dinner fork while traveling. I have always loved bread bowls, where a small loaf is carved out and filled with fabulous soups or satisfying sauce-covered meatballs. Now a company has developed a spoon which can be eaten when done – made from millet, rice, and wheat plus some spicing. Located in India Bakey’s Edible Cutlery has already made over 1 million spoons since 2011.

I repeat – the company has been in business and making this stuff since 2011. This is not science fiction. This is not even waiting on testing like many of the medical marvels I geek about. THIS.IS.REAL!

Geeking.O.U.T!

Oh, drat. A huge mucking ocean is in the way.

The India-based company is still growing its providers, getting rice farmers to switch to millet, developing its manufacturing base, and all that other stuff which businesses must have and us writers tend to skip in science-fiction. Someone wanting to distribute in America even did Kickstarter after reaching an agreement with the manufacturer; only problem the Kickstarter ended up being 10 times more successful than planned. After over a year the spoons have not shipped from India to America and then distributed to the backers. Fulfillment was promised April 2016; it’s now July 2017. The Kickstarter website shows some minor zings happening between the distributor and the manufacturer.

I hope this gets settled soon, because I really, really want this product. In every flavor.

Author Spotlight: Michael G. Williams

Erin Penn


Book Cover from Amazon

Michael G. Williams is a regular at ConCarolinas and, as such, I have had the opportunity to snap up each book of The Withrow Chronicles when it becomes available. Even better, I have talked directly to the author about his own personal challenge for the series. Not only is he following the vampire genre, but for each book within the series he is choosing a different subgenre to keep things fresh. 

Once a reader is in on this particular “secret” the series takes on additional fun, seeing what road Mr. Williams will take us down with Withrow Surrett. In the first book, Perishables, our stay-at-home vampire experiences the Zombie Apocalypse genre and has to decide if saving his Homeowners association is worth the effort. Book two is a Detective Noir entitled “Tooth & Nail” and drags poor Withrow even further out of his safe little world into the hills of Transylvania – county, North Carolina (I laughed really, really long when I realized my adopted state had a Transylvania County). During book two Withrow’s insane cousin Roderick comes into his own. You will rarely meet a more compelling, funny, scary as sh*t character. Actions Roderick takes often has me rereading the Chronicles just to figure out which twisty-turn the boy pulled off. He makes Batman’s Joker look sane and safe.

In Deal with the Devil, the subgenre is Superhero. Mr. Williams doesn’t get all the nuances and tropes of superpower prose like his did with Zombie horror, but he does an admirable job. Since superhero is a favorite genre of mine, my expectations bar is higher. On the other hand, this book’s power comes from changing The Withrow Chronicles from a series of completely independent books with continuing characters to a true series with changes tying together an ongoing, overarching plotline. While each story of the series can be a stand alone, this book is a must-read for series fans. Deal with the Devil refers back to both of the preceding stories so I would recommend reading the first two stories first, though it is not required. While not the best book of the series, Deal with the Devil makes the series.

Book four, Attempted Immortality, is a complete Thriller ride. Still unquestionably a vampire book, the thriller subgenre drives non-stop action from the opening scene to closing. Withrow and Roderick run from one end of a small beach town to the other as it gets blown up and burnt down around their ears. The Thriller subgenre suits Mr. Williams action- and humor-oriented writing style, though he admitted on Facebook some long writing sessions to meet the challenge of keeping momentum going while also forwarding plotline and characterization.

Book five, Nobody Gets Out Alive, is still being written. And he hasn’t said what the genre is yet! According to his plans, this will complete the series.

I admire Mr. Williams for attempting such a complicated task to further his writing skill. In addition, the gentleman is well-spoken at convention panels, friendly when bumped into, and approachable at his table.

Flash: The Antichrist’s Big Sister Blog – Part 1

Erin Penn

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature (Language)

Anyhow my job is not to get in the way of the end of the world.

That is actually harder than it sounds. My brother is the Antichrist.

My little brother.

And he is such a goofball right now. I want to protect him, keep him safe, but his dad told me Billy has got to suffer and come to hate everything to do his job right. So my job is to let bad things happen to little Billy.

And I just can’t. I mean what kind of big sister would I be? The kid is only five.

I guess I should start at the beginning. My mom was a typical divorced mom. Well, if you sneak a little black witchcraft in on the side. She didn’t start that way, but my dad was truly a piece of work. Before he fucked up her life she was all Glenda the Good Witch crossed with Soccer Mom. White picket fence, two-car garage, and sky-clad barbeques for Halloween. But the asshole left her for his secretary, let the house fall in foreclosure, and, here is the kicker, because he is a “pillar of the community”, he calls up everyone that hires her and lets slip how awful she is and they believe him. So she couldn’t hold down a job. Bastard is a total control freak. He has decided he owns her and wants her to beg for everything. Even got the court system to say she can’t move away from him because he needs access to his daughter.

Which is a lie. Since he got two sons by his second wife, who he is cheating on with his NEW secretary, his daughter hasn’t had a single home visit. Nor does he think I need child support. Hasn’t paid a dime since the ultrasound verified the fetus inside Number Two had a dick. Since he plays golf with the only judge in the county who oversees family disputes, the paperwork to get child support keeps getting lost. Needless to say Mom is angry about everything and is trying to get even with the only power left to her.

Like I said, typical divorced mom.

She does know how to pick them. Not learning from her first mistake, she brought home a new guy when I was twelve – only a year after the divorce was final. New guy was a handsome charmer like my dad, with a touch of danger to him. Not the hit-the-woman danger, but the same danger as my dad – the “I-will-do-what-I-like-and-damn-the-consequences”  aura that makes grown women want to take that bad boy home and try to tame him. Cripes, I hope my early exposure will offer some immunity.

Anyhow, this time she didn’t bring home a guy like Satan, she brought the horned deal Himself. Not that she knew at the beginning. She thought he was some guy her love spell brought to her.

Love spell do not make good relationships, just letting you know up front if you practice magic. Just don’t, cast them, use them, buy them. You are better off being alone than in any relationship formed with compulsion summoning as the base.

They got married. Why? I don’t know. I once asked the horned guy why he made an honest woman of my mom. She had been giving it away for free within hours of his first home visit. He shrugged and said it just seem like the thing to do when she got pregnant. I know the guy lies, a lot, but the best lies contain the truth – just like the best demons were once angels.  So I think the reason he thinks he has for marrying my mom is something else entirely, but the real reason which he won’t even admit to himself is it really did seemed like the thing to do at the time. 

Yes, I am psychoanalyzing my demonic step-dad. If you had my family, you would too.

I suppose you think I should have tried to stop the marriage. First off, at the time I was thirteen, you better believe I was a total ass about the marriage. But I was an ass about everything at the time so my mom didn’t really notice. Second, compared to my biological father, Satan still comes off better in comparison. Yes, he cheats on her, but he doesn’t hide the fact. He also got us a house, pays all our bills, has found my mom a job bio dad can’t touch her at, and answers my questions like I am a real person instead of a kid. That last goes a long way in my book. I respect the horned guy.

But, Billy is my little brother and I love him.

Anyhow, my job is not to get in the way of the Apocalypse. Suggestions?

(words 803 – first published 4/6/2013; republished in new blog format 7/16/2017 )