Tag: Self Post

Thoughts Excerpt

The noontime sun beat down on me as I pushed my way through the squalling crowd of press and gawkers that had materialized just after the yellow police line had gone up to cordon off the alleyway. It was usually an ordinary, run-of-the-mill New York City alleyway, smooshed between two apartment buildings, but the yellow tape had a way of attracting attention. It was a pain to get through the press – cameras flashing, microphones shoving in faces – but I made it to the front and ducked under the police line.

One of the officers on ‘keep-the-press-out’ duty gave a start at my sudden intrusion, but calmed when he saw my badge. “Detective Nathaniel Chalker,” I said.

The officer nodded and motioned me down the alley, blocked off from sight by tarps that only made people more eager to know what was going on. “Right down there, sir. We’ve already got ‘bout a dozen CSI techies going over the scene,” the officer said. “Detective Sumpter as well.”

Damn it, I thought. Sumpter was a plenty nice guy, but he wasn’t exactly the NYPD’s sharpest. It was a constant source of wonder that he’d ever become a detective. “Good, we should have this wrapped up in time for lunch,” I said.

The officer developed a bit of greenness behind the gills. He cautiously glanced at the press, then leaned closer to me to whisper, “I don’t think you’re going to want lunch after this.”

I could have read his thoughts or memories to find out what he was talking about, but I figured that would spoil the surprise. “You’ve seen it?”

“Half of it,” he said, grimacing. “The bottom half.”

I groaned. A weird case, as usual. “Just another day in the Big Apple,” I said, and walked down the alley.

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The Worthless Value of Words

The thing about words is that a single word is meaningless.

Yes, it has a definition, but that’s not the same thing. A single word carries across no meaning, has no value, cannot adequately describe anything until you put it together with other words until, like a jigsaw puzzle, you’ve put together a sentence that properly conveys what you want it to say.

But sometimes that’s not enough. There are some things that I wish I could properly write down, but I simply don’t have the chops as a writer to express it. It only ends up feeling clumsy and awkward. That’s the problem I’m feeling right now, as I type this.

Sir Terry Pratchett, beloved author of the Discworld series and possibly one of the greatest humorists and satirists to ever wield the written word, has passed away. He was sixty-six years old.

I can’t properly explain how this makes me feel. I could just say ‘I’m sad’, but that wouldn’t carry across the full meaning. Terry Pratchett was one of my favorite authors, because he was, in every way, inimitable. His writing style, his tongue-in-cheek sense of humor, his entire personality that could be felt through the words he put on a page, none of them can ever be copied. There are still two Discworld books remaining in the series for me to read, and it is sobering to realize that they are the last Discworld books.

One of the major aspects of the Discworld series is its treatment of the afterlife. Quite simply, there is no single afterlife on the Disc. After dying, the beliefs a person had about the afterlife become that person’s afterlife. I don’t know what Terry Pratchett’s perception of the afterlife was, but I hope that that’s where he is.

I Should Have Done This A Long Time Ago

Really, what took me so long to make a blog for my writing?

I know that not many people will be reading this for a while, but on the odd chance that I’m wrong, I’ll introduce myself.

My name is Stephen, and I’m a Junior in college who has been writing for most of his life and has only recently started actually being a good writer (in my opinion, so you can probably peel away that thick coating of self-deprecation).

I write fiction almost exclusively, mainly science-fiction and fantasy. My writing doesn’t tend to be very ‘deep’ or ‘meaningful’. Other, better writers can tell all the stories they want about the human condition and all that jazz, but I think I’ll stick with writing something fun and (possibly) humorous.

Most of what I post here will be things that I’ve written either for class or for fun. I’ll let you decide whether any of it is good or not, but when I’m not feeling self-deprecating, I like to think that I’m actually not half-bad as writers go. Of course, there’s always ways to improve.