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I’ve created a sketch for the prototype which is the cornerstone of our world domination plan. I’m calling this device Hair Ball. This is a good code name, since Project Hair Ball sounds benign. To back track a bit, the plan is to infiltrate world leaders via a nano bug which will fly into their ears and allow use to control their thoughts and actions.

I’ll deliver the prototype to our scientists in the top secret Star Gazer laboratory under The Mountain of Doom. Yes, I know that’s just this side of a ripoff, however Sauron isn’t around anymore to complain.

As you might expect, the Mountain of Doom is quite hot, volcanic fires and all. And there’s no air conditioning. I’m sweating in places I didn’t know I could sweat. Stifling heat is sapping me of all creativity and giving me a headache.

I’m nearing 30,000 followers on my blog. I want to do something to mark the moment, but again heat and headache. I’m not sure what to do. That’s where you guys come in. Anyone out there have any suggestions?

 

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I love, love, love this podcast. Check out episode 11.

I laughed until I cried.

There were several suggestions for my evil villain name

Yesterday I was waiting on someone who needed to pickup prescriptions at the pharmacy. (I know day in the life of an evil villain. Work life balance is so important when you’re in the middle of taking over the world.) So I was working on our grand plan.

Picture it.

The car is hot, the parking lot crowded and my stomach is growling. And it hits me. Why that’s brilliant? You guys are going to love this … Hey, is that an all you can eat Japanese buffet? Now what was I thinking? I forgot. At this rate, it going to take a while to attain world domination status.

I think we need a mission and a catchy phrase to keep us motivated. World domination for world domination’s sake is a hard sell.

Who do I hate the most? Lets be honest, hates takes a lot of energy to sustain. In addition to be a world class procrastinator, I’m too lazy to really work up to hate. There aren’t too many people who are worth the effort. However, 99% of all politicians, bankers and pharmaceutical magnates are high up on the potentials list.

I’m beginning to sound like Robin Hood. Argh. Think evil, think evil. What do you think our mission should be? Catch phrase to keep us motivated? Anyone?

As for the name of our secret headquarters also known as my bedroom, the only suggestion was Grande Salle du Mal, the Great Hall of Evil (https://tobthebat.wordpress.com/). I might have to get rid of the floral bedspread.

P.S. The whole one ring to rule them all thing isn’t going to work out. Apparently there was a little incident with the ring. Thanks MoJo (https://momentumofjo.com) for pointing that out.

If anyone has related posts, let me know so I can link to them.

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Writing Challenge – Somehow I lost several days of the writing challenge emails. I’m short a couple of day and then I didn’t like today’s challenge which was to write a letter of encouragement to the person I was on the first day of the challenge. Instead I decided to repeat the last challenge to write a crappy first chapter. I’m really good at writing crappy beginning.

How could everything have gone so wrong? Our first mission ending in an inquisition. The first called in three hundred years. I glanced on either side of me and saw the worn tired faces of my team members, my younger sisters. Was it my imagination or did they look broken?

The empty seat of our necromancer, cousin Sarh, caught my eye.

I remembered when my Aunt and Uncle had realized their precious little darling was born to raise the dead. Sarh had barely been four. Her parents were hosting the mid-summers celebration. Everyone had been there. Imagine her parents’ shock when the family cat, dead two weeks came romping through the house. Their golden haired four year old following after. I was only six and still remembered my horror. I was always a little repulsed by her after that.

“Why did you not call for assistance?” The voice of the inquisitor brought me back.

My hand trembled, my eyes stung. I blinked. I couldn’t cry during the inquisition. I would win their sympathy perhaps, but they would never let me off world again. Let alone lead my team.

“We have no elders. The rest of my family are younger than us, still in school. We couldn’t risk their lifes. I wasn’t sure we would even make it.”

The old men magicked our family history. The shimmering outline of the text was in front of them.

“Surely there was someone,” the old man said, as he flipped through the text. “Ah, here.”

I closed my eyes and began counting to myself, trying to block out the memory of the mid-summer’s celebration that took the rest of my family.

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The writing challenge for today is to write a bad first chapter. The purpose behind this prompt is to give yourself permission to write a bad first draft, so that you don’t worry about the quality, just about getting a draft onto paper. Writing something is better than writing nothing I suppose.

This prompt isn’t an easy one for me. I can’t think of a story that I haven’t already written a bad first chapter.

So first, what is a bad first chapter? I’m defining it as one filled with backstory and exposition with very little happening. Throw in a boring character and story and voila a bad first chapter. What’s the most boring thing I could come up with? Why me, of course. Here is the first chapter of a novel about a person writing a novel.

The Writer’s Notebook

By Deidra Alexander

Chapter 1

I often wonder why I started writing this tale. Was I hoping to rid myself of demons? Was I driven by some deep need even I wasn’t aware of? Or was I trying to make my long deceased parent’s proud of me?

If I could answer that “why” question my life would suddenly change. I would feel this drive I haven’t felt in a long time. I ponder it, meditate on it, pray about it. But, the answer never comes. So I write without need or desire. I try to roll in the words, some kind of beauty of prose and rhetoric, but it doesn’t satisfy.

A painter marks their canvas with color – lights and darks; brilliant and muted. People watch the process astounded at the image emerging before them. There’s cheering and applause while the work builds. For writer’s there is no cheering and applause, no audience to turn to for inspiration and support. Nothing to help drive forward to push to the next word.

 

I knew I couldn’t delay any longer. Opening the leather bound book of empty pages, I began writing. Words fell from my mind onto the blank page. The scratch of quill against rough paper continued until the shadows grew long. My back and shoulders ached. I ignored the stiffness and pain continuing on, never knowing if anyone would care how the righteous had fallen and the evil had risen. Perhaps no one would ever read about innocence lost and bravery triumphing.

It had seemed hopeless in those final days. Even looking back now it was a wonder we won. Death had seemed so certain. There was a single moment. A single rallying point when light and hope pierced the darkness. When blood soaked and battle worn, Roman had raised his sword and let loose a monstrous scream. For a moment no longer than a breath, everyone paused. Then as one all of his men yelled in response and an energy surged through them.

The enemy stumbled and the advantage was pressed. Their slight hesitation had cost them not only the battle, but the war.

At least that is how I remember it, looking across the field. One moment their commander’s hand was locked firmly around my throat and the next I was wrenched free, released from his strangling hold.

Was that the turning point? Or was it earlier? Had I missed it because I was struggling through my own war? Perhaps that was why I was writing. Trying to discover a truth that might not exist.

But that was the end, not the beginning. I must return to the beginning before you’ll really understand.

It started years earlier.

Moving swiftly across the silent hall, I heard the sound of faintly falling footsteps. Seeking cover in the shadows, I pressed myself against the wall. The footsteps faintly falling grew closer, perhaps it was my fellow conspirator or a traitor. I couldn’t be certain of which.

The uncontrollable shaking started. Clinching my fists and closing my eyes, I whispered to myself, “Thinking begins hesitation. Hesitation begins doubt. Doubt begins paralysis. Paralysis destroys progress.”

My teacher had made me repeat those words a thousand times until they had become a soothing mantra that pushed the curtain of panic back.

“Alicia,” a voice whispered in answer. It was Roman, my ally.

When I released my fists, I realized thin lines of blood marked where my nails had dug in.

Nothing like the threat of a traitor’s death to get your blood pumping. I almost laughed at the thought. What was I thinking trying to free people who might not even want to be freed?

The End.

I hope that was bad and boring enough.

 

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Today’s challenge is to write using a bad voice. Problem:I don’t think I have another voice. This is my crappy voice.

I have an instruction voice.

Step 1. Strike nail with hammer.

Step 2. Repeat Step 1…

I have a Simon Says voice.

Simon says stand up.

Simon says hop up and down on one leg.

Simon says turn around.

Sit down.

Simon didn’t say…

I have a resting bitchy face. Someone mentioned it just today, but I don’t know if I have a resting bitchy voice. I’ll give it a try.

“You suck. You can’t read to save your life. You are such a bad reader, you don’t know you aren’t reading this correctly.”

Did that work? Are you doubting your ability to read? Did I make you cringe?

I might have a whiny voice. Here try it.

“Why? Why would you say that? You aren’t fair. I never get to do anything. You don’t trust me.”

I don’t know. Do you feel the urge to grab some cheese?

This prompt really stumped me. I’m hoping for better inspiration tomorrow.

 

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Day 4 – Review a book. I think this challenge is aimed at bloggers, not fiction writers. These prompts are demonstrating where to get material to write blog posts when you don’t have any materials. This isn’t usually the kind of thing I post. I usually post stories about life, work and my twisted family.

I did a book review earlier in the week, so instead I’m looking at weird gadgets on Amazon. If you are actually interested in purchasing the item, the product names link back to the product pages.

First up, the LED Flashlight Multipurpose Glove. Yes, a flashlight glove.

 

Next, the Glow Toilet. Need I say more?

How about the Folding Credit Card Knife Pocket Knife? Because even a city slicker runs across the occasional roadkill.

I didn’t say they were to top selling items.

I saw this Endoscope Camera Phone Thingie and thought, “Wow, back up with that thing, Cowboy. No scoping anything over here.”

Review Spy Sunglasses  I’m going to have to try to find some girl weirdness, because I seem to be heavy on the guy weirdness. But, if you’re a spy and you’re looking for replacement glasses there are for you. James Bond move over.

  

I know I promise some girl stuff, but Liquid Ass is just too good to pass up. I might need to buy some of this for my nephew, The Pistol.

 

This is the Lightning Shocker Game. The slow guy in the group gets the living crap zapped out of him. Great for slower or unsuspecting siblings. I might need one of these myself.

Ok, I actually like this one a lot, the Gadget Carrying Case.

For some reason all the stupid girl gadgets look extremely useful to me. If could be because I’m a girl.

The Banana Hook, okay I’m trying.

The Hand Warmer, once again, infinitely useful.

 

Got One!! A Pink Gun Wine Bottle Opener  If you’re from the south, that’s an accessory you don’t want to be without. I should know since I just put one in my shopping cart.

Stone Fairy House, which looks like a box of rocks to me. Let me know if you’re interested in this one, because I’ve got a box of rocks to sell you.

Just one more, I need this one. Army Guy Bottle Opener. I’ve always been a sucker for a guy in uniform. Add wine and I’m all in. Go Joe.

If you like gadget posts, let me know.

 

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My son started eating vegetarian pork and beans.

I said, “You like the pork and beans without the pork. I like them without the beans.”

He said, “That’s just barbecue pork.”

Laughing I said, “Exactly.”

“That’s not funny.”

Which made it funnier. He rolled his eyes. I snorted and choked. It wasn’t funny anymore. But he laughed anyway.

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