This is the first time I’ve planned a story from the outset. I know, I know, this is why I rarely finish anything! One thing I’ve found is that I find it sooo much harder working to a rough plan.
Normally I have a world in mind, and sketch out one or two characters in my head, followed by a situation, and just see where the characters motivations take it.
This time I have a definatly plan in mind. The way I’ve formed it is to have the protagonist and the antagonist both have definate plans in mind for the duration of the story – one’s is to steal something of value, and the other’s is to watch the first to see when they are going to attempt the heist, and try to stop them.
It’s really not as simple as I’d hoped!
Oh well, back to it.
A longer bit – I was going to do this as two bits, but it didnt seem to flow as well that way, so here’s the lot! I guess I need to get a move on and write some more stuff. Slow updates, sorry, busy busy week this week.
The caravan wound its way through the barren canyon. This was dangerous country. The smashed remains of gutted carts were strewn along the canyon floor, to lie with the dessicated remains of their guards and pack beasts. The lead cart rumbled over the rocky surface, grinding pebbles to dust under its great weight. Each time a wheel stuck on a rock, or fell into a pothole, the cart beast grunted, but the drum roll of its eight massive feet never faltered.
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A short section this one. Just long enough for a coffee break.
“Well, that was a resounding success, Tosty, well done!”, said Professor Aardvark Chopsticks, thumbs in his equatorial belt.
Tosty Architrave, kneeling by a half-filled chest, glanced up, triumph still glowing on his skinny face, and grinned up at his mentor, the wispy fluff of adolescence quivering on his upper lip. The professors kind eyes peered down at his protege over the curve of the enormous belly like two watery eggs in a nest of white eyebrow.
Read More – Storyspace
A part of a story, from somewhere right of the start, but left of the middle.
Blinba sulked. He sat on a small stool in the centre of the Space and peered out of his own head sullenly. The term “he sat” was somewhat misleading, Blinba considered. He was a he only by convention; his shape was certainly not female, but he definitely lacked some details which would have lead an observer to conclusively declare his masculinity. Then there was the word “sat”. True, his shape appeared to be that of a cross legged figure with his rump on or about the seat, but a careful watcher would see that he hovered a fraction of an inch above the rough wood. He was also rotating slowly. His extremities faded into motes as they approached the metal slabs making up his cage, and were whisked away in a speedy half orbit, before a rapid but smooth deceleration as they re-attached themselves to his other side.