Jefferson Pomeroy's Grave

To try and drum up some support for the roleplay game I've played for about three years I joined a roleplay directory/ community of other roleplayers and about once a month they have a story contest for some free added publicity for your roleplay site.

This month, you had to write no more than 1000 words using a specific colour of your choice as the theme for the short story. I chose brown. I am also pleased to say that with a whopping three votes (not three votes more than the second place story, three votes altogether) I won the contest this month with 'Jefferson Pomeroy's Grave'

Honestly, I thought it was hokey and trite but people always lap that shit up. Also I didnt realize but apparently I stole the surname from one of my best friend's boyfriend...I was wondering why I had that name in my head, it seemed kind of random! Sorry Dom!

Story under the jump break. 

Second Chances

 This was written for a challenge over at RPG Directory where we were given a sentance about a character and then told to create a person around them. I chose Karen Johnson. 22. Unemployed, brunette, lives with parents and ran with it. It's probably one of the most bloated of all of my short stories, really it works far better as a character study and practise peice then something final and polished because the description is incredibly overwrought and shall we say more than a little self indulgent.

I find myself wanting to write a little more about the two main characters in the story David and Karen.Sometimes its not the stuff that you write that has the most impact but the stuff that you deliberatley leave out. Have a  read if you like.

The Most Miraculous Reappearance of Billy O'Shead

God dammit, I keep trying to get back into writing my own stuff outside of fan fiction  and roleplay games but I seem physically incapable of doing so when I don't have to use it as a distraction from school work. Right now I'm toying with the idea for my nano wrimo. I have a name 'Spiderflower', a  young teenage girl, probably 14, having sex in a public toilet and a baby in the bushes, but the plot around the name hasn't taken any kind of solid shape yet. 

Sometimes I think I want it to be a murder mystery.

Sometimes it would make a good coming of age story like To Kill a Mockingbird but with more fucking (since this was the only thing that the original was lacking in my opinion) . 

Sometimes I think I want it to be literary fiction. Or perhaps a dystopian very low sci fi type story in the vein of Never Let me Go or The Handmaid's tale.  But with more underaged fucking. 

And others I want some kind of twisted, fantasy story. But with lots of fucking. 

I think the last one is my favorite, but also the most abstract and difficult to come up with a plot for.
Whatever happens, there will be fucking.

 But oh yeah, I come bearing something else to post today that I wrote and that I should introduce. 

The Most Miraculous Reappearance of Billy O'Shead  is a short story I wrote with a beginning a middle and  an end  and everything written way back in January 2009 during the peak of a fascination with missing children that continued through to Dead Donkey Vanity,  my 2010 nano wrimo novel. 

I noticed in books and films there is a trend to romanticize the unknown, there is a definite tradition of heroes and heroines falling for aloof and mysterious strangers. I'll deny it vehemently if you ask me, but I've had a thing for a few strong silent times in my time; I guess people who aren't very forthcoming about their private lives turn me the hell on. S'far as I'm considered my hos should be seen and not heard.   

Billy O'Shead is a mystery, an effort on the part of the narrator to turn his mundane life into something more fantastical and glamorous than it really is the same way he uses heavy makeup and other people's clothing. But mysterious strangers rely solely on the perception of other people, no one is unknown to themselves after all. We play to other people's perceptions of ourselves a lot, I've found, especially in romantic situations, in familial situations even though they can get us very wrong.

 Click the read more button for the story, see what I'm banging on about. 

Dead Donkey Vanity

Last November I wrote a novel for nano wrimo and I managed to get to the 50k word count in time. Unfortunately for me, my laptop crashed a little bit later and the whole thing got swallowed up. If I were one to get attached to things this might have got me a  more annoyed than it did, but I'm not an it didn't. If anything, it kind of made me happy that I didn't have a piece of work that I wasn't at all pleased with hanging over my head while I tried to start the unenviable process of editing. Like trying to mold a dog shit into the Venus di Milo, I didn't have the strength. But I have chapter one squirreled away so I thought I'd post it.


Dead Donkey Vanity is about lesbians,Chanel lipstick, serial killers and how much university sucks when you go into it hoping to make a fresh start before you realize you're just an asshole like everyone around you. I guess the alternative title is: If You Hated School, You'll Despise Life but Really Fucking Love Cunnilingus which is a short story I think I will have to write now.

Ulterior Motives

I keep finding reasons not to submit my short stories into my University's Creative Arts Magazine, which is called Helicon and is just fantastic. This one was finished a month before the deadline and a month before the deadline I decided it wouldn't be suitable- I believe 'too long and too gay' were the reasons for this one while Olanzapine Wasteland was 'too hairy'. Still it's probably better to think of your work as 'too much' of something' as opposed to not enough of something else.
'Too gay, too hairy and too long' makes me feel edgy in my own mind while I'm shit scared of 'not enough talent' being the reason I get rejected. One day I'm going to get this mental block down. But until then this is called Ulterior Motives and it's too long and too gay to submit to a magazine but just fine for here.

Olanzapine Wasteland

I think that drugs are beautiful. And by that, I mean their names. Text speak and slang is dumbing us down, but science is getting more poetic everyday. The psychiatric drugs are some of my favorites with antidepressants such as Citalopram, Sertraline and Mazindol which roll off the tongue like characters from a fantasy novel. Fluoxetine is a hideous, horrible drug which in every case I've seen (and they hand it out like candy around here) including my own has done more harm than good but I'll be damned if it doesn't sound exotic.

I won't take meds anymore, though I'm sure there are doctors who'll tell me I should- but I love the way that they look when written on a prescription pad.

Olazanapine Wasteland is the story under the cut. It's about people I know and about antidepressants.