NaNoWriMo premise: Curtis – Human Bounty Hunter

My premise for this year’s NaNoWriMo, will be inspired by the “Humanity, Fuck Yeah“- threads one can find on the internet. Which has stories of how horrible, nice, honest, dishonest, et. cetra. The human race can be. I am thinking of three books, one detailing the encounter I give you below, but from the Selendaris point of view.  Along with the expansion to the NaNo 50k mark, it’ll feature more details on both the Selendari in question and the state of the universe. I think there’ll be three novels in this series, maybe four. Which leads me to reach at least 150k words, for three, or 200k for four if I write all four during this NaNo….

“It was in the fifty-sixth solar cycle of the space station Silvara Eight orbiting our- the Vadrian homeworld, that I met my first human. I had been briefed of humans, of course. And I knew some of their languages. I could, however, rely upon the translating amulet that the human was wearing to translate to the vadrian tongue. The man was named Curtis. He detailed no family name, so I never thought to ask.

As I was the operating officer of the security detail of the station, I was the one who went down to the surface after he had secured repairs to his ship. Curtis told me that we needed to use a landing ship I was prepared to lose. And that I would have to bring supplies for- I could see uncertainty in his eyes. “Maybe twenty of your solar days. I believed the man to be insane. However did as he told me. All the man carried was his space-suit and a huge backpack. Ah. I forget. You’ll likely want a description of the man.

I know he is a man because, as the security officer, I was tasked with searching the man for illegal cargo. Curtis not only acquiesced but stripped himself, and told me the best procedures. The man seemed no worse for wear after the extensive search. Curtis could tell me that there was a fugitive on our soil that he was hunting, as a far out branch of the human law engine.

Curtis’ legs, raw muscle. Larger than any of our own master athletes. With our clunky gait provided by our three spiky legs, there was something definitively unsettling about the ease with which humans moved. Moving up his bone-coloured skin, I could see scars so aplenty, that one wondered how the man could move at all. We’d been detailed on their bodies. But the details had been nearly nonexistent when it came to why it was made the way it was.

It looked like Curtis’ skin was sewn together with scars. Nevertheless, you’ll probably want to know the structure of his face. His nose, sprouting from his strong jaws, with a mouth that when opened completely looked as if it could eat the entirety of a small animal whole, was stiff, and triangular. His eyes, lightning quick. And uncertainty was felt in my stomach anytime those fearless deep wells of knowledge stared straight through mine.

In his spacesuit, his physique was far less pronounced. And I was far outmatched when it came to carrying capacity. That big backpack of his carried rations, emergency supplies, my supplies, and a great assortment of strange implements of metal and thread. I would later know their use, but at this time I would not know.

As we landed, Curtis shifted. Before seemingly falling on top of me. It happened in the instant we touched down in the location Curtis had told me we needed to go. The explosion was horrible, the craft obliterated. Curtis had a tear in his space-suit, amongst other minor impalements. However, all the damage I had taken, were few specks where his blood had fallen onto me while he protected my body with his own body. I felt kind of cramped. And tried to motion for Curtis to get off. However, he shook his head. Then whispered something to me.

“If I move now, they’ll shoot again. And the damage will be worse than the roof collapsing, which it probably will in a little while.”

My ears rung with his words, as we waited for what seemed like hours. The man continued to bleed onto my protective clothing. There was a slight hissing, as I knew the blood ate its way through the outer layers. It would not hold forever. However just as I thought that, Curtis moved. “The capsule seems to be holding, and it’s heat-shields protects us from the scans of my prey.

We should be safe for a little rest.”

The rest was indeed little. Curtis sprayed some sort of adhesive from a can onto the spots where his blood had begun to eat its way through my suit. It wasn’t that the environment was hostile to me, but at Curtis’ advice, that if I join him, I needed a hazmat suit and armour. I had worn them both. The blood had stopped eating the suit at least. Which was something that was not lost to me as picked pieces of metal, and glass out from his flesh. The deepest cut had gone into the muscle of his foot.
Curtis said nothing, and tore at the inner layers of his suit, and worked the metal out of his muscle. Sticking his fingers into the wound, after wiping some strange smelling fluid onto them.

The wound oozed after his fingers left it. And he touched the two sides of the skin together before applying the same adhesive from the can that had stopped the blood previously. The wound stayed shut, and Curtis worked his foot for a while before taking a short nap. The rest period lasted about fifteen of your “minutes”. Curtis stretched and said out loud. “That should allow them to get some bit away, and allow us to pick up the pace.”

As I followed Curtis, I noted how he carried the weight of the backpack upon his wounded foot as if it weighed nothing. “Does it not hurt?” My question went unanswered for a bit of time as the man worked his way up a small hill that my three spiked legs made short work out of. “A bit, I’ve been through worse. Luckily it only tore through about half the fibres in that muscle. I should have about half the efficiency of it and need a bit more rest than usual for a few days, as the salve I applied works.” I wondered how his body could function in our atmosphere.

As far as we knew it was poisonous to humans. Curtis did use a rebreather, but as the day went on, the man adjusted the efficiency of it down and eventually put it back in its place in the backpack. “Humans can breathe most atmospheres, if they have a healthy bit of microbes in their lungs. I should have no trouble the rest of my stay on your planet. ”

Walking on, we found somewhere to nestle for the next brief rest. I was exhausted. Yet it had been what Curtis called a “short walk” that lasted some eight hours. The man still only required another fifteen minutes. And was ready. I however, was finished. Curtis didn’t seem to mind spending an hour or so recuperating on my behalf. However instead of recuperating as I had to do, Curtis went on exercising his leg. Yes, the very leg that had been half torn open a third of his homeworld’s day ago.

Curtis told me that the creature he was hunting was a Selendari Conman that had managed to get onto the Human Empire’s most wanted list, for a large list of crimes against a lot of people. And that the Selendari needed far more rest than a Human. Curtis also prepared one of his rations. The human could tell me that he could’ve eaten it cold. But that he preferred it warm. As that lent itself better to the taste in his opinion.

A few hours later, and after my ration had been nearly consumed we trudged on. I wondered how Curtis could still walk. A damage like that to any of the Vadrians, and they would be crippled. Probably for many moons. It was our next encounter with a trap, that really put the fear of humans in me. Curtis walked straight into a laser-cutter trap. He’d not been surprised, however, there was a gleam of something unsettling in his eyes as he pressed the trigger.

The man was crazy, and as the laser sliced through his foot. This time the other foot. I noticed something strange. As Curtis fell to the dirt, his suit managed to confine the muscle. It still held the same shape. And was slack. Curtis had relaxed the muscle before the laser had cut it. Curtis didn’t look scared at all. And started applying the salve. This time clearly in pain. However refused any when asked if he wanted sedatives.

“If I eat that, It’ll slow down my senses, and make my body unreliable. I can handle this pain. It’ll soon be nothing. Once again sticking that strange black salve into the wound. Curtis when he tried standing he couldn’t. And asked for a branch of a nearby tree. Which he strapped to his leg by use of strips of fabric. The wound was sealed with the same can he had used before. Curtis wrapped the entire leg with fabric, then rose.

His gait still a bit stunted, I asked him “why did you willingly step into the trap?” Curtis simply smiled. “I have the opportunity to make them think that I will be either incapacitated or dead. Before following them, it’ll mean they think they’ve lost me. This trap, was lain here mere hours before we arrived. And by triggering it, I’ve given them the satisfaction of thinking that they got away.”

It made little sense to me, as Curtis now heaved whenever he stepped, and his gait had become unsteady. However, the man trudged on. Looking like the hunt would be long since over, I wondered why Curtis had asked me to prepare twenty days of rations. As we walked, Curtis picked up fruits, nuts and many other things from the woods around us, and tested if the Human body could withstand them.

As it appeared, the human body could withstand most things even those extremely toxic to ourselves. And as the days went on, me feeling ever more exhausted, the incredible stamina of humans was hammered into my brain. In the last few days, the campsites had started to show signs that they had been left in a haste. And the bounty hunter could tell me that we were gaining fast.

His first wound had been completely healed in two days. His second took a week. The wound was healed, but his bone was not. The strange salve, a product of human factories, seemed to bring muscle fibres together rather quickly, and assist in lining up bones, leaving the actual healing to the body. And as Curtis walked, his strange gait straightened out, and he would begin to jog for spurts. I had been broken into his pace by now.

As long as we took a couple of hours off every two rests, I could keep up. I still tremor to this day when I think of the terrifying force that the human body represents. If I wasn’t there to slow Curtis down, he could probably have jogged the entire time. The stamina that this man could bring from eating all sorts of strange fruits, and animals from the native environment of the planet. It had been a long time since our planet was hunted for food, as it had been on the homeworld of the humans.

But Curtis seemed to find it a natural way to expend his resources. As we worked together, I asked Curtis how he tested for the edibility. “First, there’s the test to see if it is poisonous, it’s this device” Curtis held forth a device that looked like a communications device. “If it isn’t poisonous to Humans, then there is this test.” The man brought up a sharp instrument humans liked when eating, a fork. And scratched himself in his arm. “This way, if something comes in contact with these four scratches, and it becomes painful, or something of that nature, then I know not to eat it.”

It neared our twentieth day when we finally caught up with the creature Curtis was hunting. The creature had run for far too long. Exhaustion had finally taken it over, and it simply hung limp as Curtis lifted the small form and returned the same way we had come from. Curtis didn’t allow the creature to die. And gave his own rations to it to keep it alive. It was starting to get dire with my own rations, and I was starting to grow a bit concerned when Curtis asked me if there was anything I knew in the vicinity that I knew I could eat. I nodded, but fear clouded my mind.

“There’s a large animal some days from here, that my people hunted when we were in need.” Curtis simply nodded. “It’ll be a slight detour, but we’ll go there, provided slaying one is legal.” I nodded, Curtis carried the prisoner and the backpack. The second day of our journey to the fields of the Giant Alpondar natives of the planet, the prisoner Curtis had caught talked. “Let me go, you foul-mouthed mongrel” Curtis simply ignored the creature. And went about his business. Slept for fifteen minutes, then started jogging to the fields of the Alpondar.

They were non-sapient and huge. Something Curtis simply shrugged at. Apparently the man had seen bigger. The woman the bounty hunter had captured however was terrified. Chained to the ground, and hobbled, Curtis told me to stay where I was, and he would fell one. I tried to tell him to let me help. But Curtis had simply shaken his head.

We waited for a few hours. Before the ground started shaking. Curtis came. My face expressed shook with terror as the man sat upon the neck of the creature. The bounty hunter parked his Alpondar beside the campfire, before loading all three of us onto the creature, that he then steered towards someplace in the distance. It was a mere fifteen minutes at a run that we came upon the Alpondar body.

We ate. And I packed as many rations as I could. The prisoner begged to be let go, and not be left in the care of this murderer. Curtis continued ignoring her. Curtis spent a lot of his freeze-rods to preserve the meat-rations. And we managed to get back to the landing site. This time riding on the Alpondar that Curtis had tamed.

I’ve skipped ranks, and gotten pretty far upwards in the relations and military systems of our planet since. All the while cautioning on any aggression against humans. For I have seen, what ease with which a trained human can both live in harsh new environments and sustain crippling damage. I’ll leave this letter of detail with the Human ambassadors. They’ll know better what to do with it than I. I’ve even taken to learning the Human main language, if nothing else, to simplify my own existence if I should come into contact with a human.

Our race may be space-faring. And I am informed there are many others, however, none of them are as adaptable and efficient as the human race. Any relations except peaceful strongly advised against. Curtis, a bounty-hunter travelled across the galaxy, to get ahold of ONE prisoner. His journey, not even counting the one I had the opportunity to join in on, has taken him across a dozen different star systems, and many many different climates. Yet, the Selendari that ran away from her punishment, a race most well known for being extraordinary runners could not cope with the sheer determination and endurance of a single human.”
~ Signed Mondik Veldi; War Minister, and minister of extra-Vadrian relations.

Procrastination: That short term dopamine hit we all love

I saw procrastination as a mountain you had to scale. However, Procrastination is standing on a ledge, and all it takes is a single step.

It’s quite simple really. So simple that it hurts. You just gather your thoughts, and tumble off that ledge. Then when you wake up, some hours later you’ve done a lot of stuff. And you can go back to procrastinating again.

Becoming a serial non-procrastinator takes practice. It takes a lot of practice, and grit. But it is possible.


I’ve been there. Last year, I was there for two hundred consecutive days. Every single day, I wrote at least five hundred words. Some days were harder. I ended up feeling like a champion. However it clashed with my social needs. Mostly because I had not set up a time to write.

Then I grew sick, real sick. And I stopped my by that time, habit. Then, after I started again, I noticed many of the same trends as it was with the last few weeks of my 200 day run I was growing tired, and certain days simply didn’t agree with me writing. But I stuck through it.

I still ended up a couple of days behind. Because, unlike what I had been doing, I no longer had the same flow, or focus. By the end of April,  the planned content I had for my character and story was running out quickly.

But in the last three days, I caught up. And to catch up, I had to write nearly ten days.

That means 25 000 ish words the first day, 25 000 ish words the next day, then 30 000 ish words the last day. Oh, did I forget to mention my goal was double the word count that I used to write in a month? Yeah, 250 000 words.

After that I took a well earned, I thought 25 day break. Before I started working on the habit again. I still hadn’t caught the hint. The hint that I need to write in the morning. Before my social ties start to grab my attention.

I’m there now. I know when I need to write. But there’s a comfortable space there, the tip of that ledge. I have the ability to not write, to stare at the wall and allow time to flow by. Procrastination. It’s a powerful foe to someone who knows that he can write 80 000 words in three days.

With things I don’t know, I’m often more focused… “Could you write 250 000 words in a month?” as opposed to “Write 120 0000 words this month” Since I know that I can write 80k words in three days, I know that I can be lazy most of the month, and write like a champion the last couple of days.


My plan?

One of the notes pinned to my cork-board.

What am I practising doing now? Getting out of my bed, then immediately writing.

Is it working? I am getting out of bed, ungodly early in the morning more often than not. I don’t usually manage to write though. Which annoys me the rest of the day. I need a routine in the morrow that will stick. Which is what I am working on finding. That and coping with procrastination when it comes to my writing.

Post Script: Sorry I’m a day late in posting this. I completely forgot, due to some meetings with my writing group. Which stalled my writing till late (it’s 00:24 am here now, and I haven’t started yet).

Writing: My state, Camps and 1M words!

1 Million words!

I recently rolled above 1M words written since I started my focused writing career last august. A reminder if you don’t remember where to find my spreadsheet (or if you are a new reader)

Whenever I think of the number one million, this guy shows up in my brain:

What did I learn writing one million words? I learned that even if you write fast, your fingers have to hit the keys they aim for. I’ve been above 100 words a minute averaged over 83 minutes. It was during the April CampNaNo, and my typo rate was gloating back at me with 54% (of the words had some form of typo in them).

Since November last year, I’ve made a point to record typo-rates. If I didn’t, I would never know how bad or well I wrote. I find the rate at which I have shifted a space, or a random letter in a word is as good a measure of accuracy as any (which is what most of those typos consist of).


Is an event in which you like NaNoWriMo write on some sort of project. However what is different from NaNoWriMo is that the camp-site has the added component of peer pressure to perform. You’re put in a cabin, and the idea is to have the cabin “win” if everyone wins. Which means that you get guilted by yourself to perform (You don’t want to rob the others of a win?). Camp is run twice annually, once in April, and once in July.

April (250 000 words)

I set upon myself the insane task of writing 250 000 words. Which I managed. Not without issues (more on that below), but reasonably well. The goal in April was to describe the early life of Kimberly, the cursed true-born Vampyre, upto her conversion to vampyredom. I spent around a thousand words on every day, meaning that I got nearly 250 days worth of her life (By the end of the month, I was writing on a couple of other stories as well).

July (120 000 words)

I have two projects slated for July:
A co-op book with five other Norwegian writers, the writeup has me write five periods of a groups life with a minimum of 2000 words a piece, set in a post apocalyptic world (It also happens to be in Norwegian ugh) (10 000 words (5*2000 ) but I’m adding another 10k since I might go on tangents… ).

A magic-school novel, which follows an anthropomorphic panther-girl going through her second year of magic school (100 000 words).

I’ve just started on my July run, I don’t have to write for the co-op until the sixth. The first of July, I wrote 8200 words. The second, I wrote 4k words. The burnout from April’s camp came from writing nearly ten days of words in three. I am quite sure I could manage to write 8k words every day. Without ending in a burnout.


I suffered two setbacks this year, so far.


At the end of March, I suffered from my regular (second time) five-year disease. I don’t get sick, so when I do get sick, I get really sick. This time it was a virus, that knocked me about for three weeks. The last time I was properly sick was in 2010.. This period ended my 200 day writing streak. And I’ve been trying to rebuild that habit.
I’ve located one thing that keeps me back from starting the new writing streak. Where previously, I had a strict rule to not sleep unless I’d written, that’s fallen to the need to sleep that I had when I was sick. So even though I am healthy again, I still can’t bring myself to adhere to that rule again yet.

A burnout

The second setback I have experienced this year, happened during (the camp) and especially at the end of the April CampNaNoWriMo. During the camp, I didn’t manage to write every day, and with a target of 8334 words a day,  it racked the numbers quickly. I had a couple of days early on that I was able to reclaim. But the last three days of April, I had to write at least 80 000 words. It was the third of these days that I noticed that my timezone was incorrect. Had been incorrect the entire time. Which meant that I hadn’t started writing until the people in that timezone had started. And it bought me a few more hours (as related to my own timezone).

I wrote 25k the first day, 25k the next day, and 32k the last day.

After this, I was burned out. I just had no fire to write. No will. It was simply knocked out. This burnout lasted for 25 days, before I started picking up the “pen” again.


While I’ve really started to work on getting back into the habit of writing every day, I have also started looking back at the blog-posts that are in the making. There are quite a few. I’m thinking of making another page that names the ones that I haven’t finished.

I know I haven’t been consistent enough with blogging. Which is why, with this post, I am announcing that I will be blogging at least one post a week. And after a while, maybe I’ll increase that number. I’ll be posting them friday, at 12:00.

I also want to start posting to the “Writing updates” section. The problem with this section is that I write 4k words a day. Which is a lot of words to clean. That said, I do need practice with editing. So maybe I’ll get into that again.

Author’s Page

I have a facebook page, that I use to post my writing updates to. The only problem? I haven’t done that in a while. I’ll see to it that it has more content, as I write more on the blog it’ll have at least that on it.

The future

I have on multiple occasions been called a machine, an alien, a natural phenomenon, and a galactic cataclysm for the pace and efficiency with which I write. Now I only need to rebuild that habit I once had. So I can reclaim those titles. My attitude? Positive, as always.

2015-05-29 4027 words, 73.22 WPM 24.98 % typo

Day 4: 4027 words in 55 minutes giving a WPM of 73.22! Typo rate: 24.98 %

PS: This is a status-post, it is meant as a way for me to show off some of what I write every day.

“From what I have seen, you should do well to take care of it. It will weight you down. But where you would be going, you will learn to work with it. This dent here.” He turned the clinging heavy armour around, ” is where I took a log to my chest.” You have been given enough time to recover. Which should be any day now.  I would advise that you get to the eastern side of our continent. And hitch a ride with a trader. It is not really advertised. But we trade with the other continent. It is just not that often that the ships get here. However I think it is season now. So you should go there. You ‘ll likely get a ride. Given given your status.

Grandfather looked really tired.

“I will be leaving in the next few days. That is as far as I can extend my protection, so get a lot of rest.

The man turned, walked from the room. That was the last I saw of him. I got a message a few days later,it said that my granddad had left. I knew I’d better work fast. Getting up, I started packing the meagre things they had left me. Granddad and the rest of my family, some of the tribe too, I could see. A token form one of the girls that I had gotten along with a small jar, that contained some fabric that smelled like her. My memory was jogged and I remembered a time when we had been having fun in some field north in the country. It was amazing what the mind could scrounge up. I decided to close the jar, and stash it in the satchel.

It was as instantly one of the more precious things I owned. Even more the armour. I knew I would not be wearing it in a while. The satchel was was large enough to fit the small chest. It was hard to not break down crying every time I saw one of our tents. It had been a nice childhood. I had learnt to tame storms. There was nothing like it. I worked my way along the southern shoreline.”


“”From what I have seen, you should do well to take care of it. It will weight you down. But where you would be going, you will learn to work with it. This dent here.” He turned the clinging heavy armour around, ” is where I took a log to my chest.” You have been given enough time to recover. Which should be any day now.  I would advise that you get to the eastern side of our continent. And hitch a ride with a trader. It is not really advertised. But we trade with the other continent. It is just not that often that the ships get here. However I think it is season now. So you should go there. You ‘ll likely get a ride. Given given your status.

Grandfather looked really tired.

“I will be leaving in the next few days. That is as far as I can extend my protection, so get a lot of rest.

The man turned, walked from the room. That was the last I saw of him. I got a message a few days later,it said that my granddad had left. I knew I’d better work fast. Getting up, I started packing the meagre things they had left me. Granddad and the rest of my family, some of the tribe too, I could see. A token form one of the girls that I had gotten along with a small jar, that contained some fabric that smelled like her. My memory was jogged and I remembered a time when we had been having fun in some field north in the country. It was amazing what the mind could scrounge up. I decided to close the jar, and stash it in the satchel.

It was as instantly one of the more precious things I owned. Even more the armour. I knew I would not be wearing it in a while. The satchel was was large enough to fit the small chest. It was hard to not break down crying every time I saw one of our tents. It had been a nice childhood. I had learnt to tame storms. There was nothing like it. I worked my way along the southern shoreline.” ~ Alonzo Storm, Elite Storm Dancer

Accountability coach for hire: | Stats at

2015-05-25 4069 words, 72.66 WPM 25.68 % typo

Day 1 (Writing again!): 4069 words in 56 minutes giving a WPM of 72.66! Typo rate: 25.68 %

“We even had a vampyre try to mezmer me into allowing his group top to take over ownership of our family group. I stared back,

Poison and Command in my eyes.

“You will forget we exist. Whenever you see us, you will tell yourself that you are glad that we get this much success, sometimes, you will even think nice thoughts. You will never try this trick of mesmerizing merchants into submission. You will win through true pure mercantile skill.

The man shook his head, looking really confused. “Hi”, I said. The vampyre mafioso bolted. He was gone the next instant.” ~ Kimberly, Cursed Trueborn Vampyre

Accountability coach for hire: | Stats at

Practice: The law that force you to suck.

Writing to me is just practice. Practice in writing, practice in thinking, practice in storytelling. This attitude allows me to suck. Because that is what you do when you practice. You suck at something for so long that people notice that you are making less mistakes than the rest.

And then suddenly you feel like a god. Because you have gone through the same mistakes, and corrected your behaviour.

I ponder if there are things that I can do better (there are). I am planning on making a world-bible (atlas, and encyclopaedia combined). Before that  I need to become better at drawing maps. Because if there is one thing I will need then it would be a lot of maps.

I coach writing, and my coaching mantra has become this: I’ve done it, you can too!

I’ve been on that ladder. I was doing 500 words a day. That was hard for a time. It needed hours of my time. Some days I spent nearly two! That is a long time to get your 500 words out. It felt so hard that there was nearly no reason to continue, that is how those days felt. But the next day I had a new day, try again. There were days I could write for 1500 words. That was something I had never experienced before. I fell in love with writing.

It gave me two things: It allowed me to experience my bookverse, and it allowed me to see that I was doing something. Working on that one thing I had been dreaming of doing for years. Writing those things into existence.

How does it feel being a writer? Horrible. That’s the truth. I’m one of the first writers that I know of in my family. Which means that I am that one person, whom everyone is asking when the book is done. It’s kind of like being an IT professional, or that computer person that everyone goes to. “Yes, I can fix your computer. No, I don’t know when it’s done. Yes, it’s working away, It’s a really slow computer.”

But that has all been exchanged with “When is that book of yours done?” And I have to explain to them in an exhausted tone that I am not writing on one book. I write on multiple. Then their kicker, the one that goes for my balls. “Where’s the paycheck? You can’t live on no money.” Now, that is a loaded question. To me it feels like a powder-keg. You see I’ve been unemployed for five years.

It’s a harsh truth. But it is the truth. And I HAVE tried, I have been out there. Tried to ask employers. Worked on being a better applicant. I just wanted somewhere to work. When job-searching, people just didn’t notice me. And that annoyed me. I gave up. It yielded too few results in too long a time.

I didn’t give in to depression however, I hid. I hid in the Internet. Made myself someone people on the Internet would like. I learn games easy, so adopting new games came fair enough and I like being nice. So that’s what I did with my time.

I entertained myself. And I love it. You can drown whatever sorrows you have in the Internet. Without feeling the pounding head-aches that come with alcohol.

Sometime during this period I discovered Jeff Goins. I listened to him, I watched him grow. Joined a couple of the webinars that he sent my way. He was interesting. And he made me think of writing. I’d been fantasizing of making my own epic fantasy world. I’d made a few attempts before, at writing. I realised on one of my writing bursts, that I could combine all the stories I’d written before. It wasn’t all that hard.

I had to relax, or scrap a few rules of magic. But that was fine. I decided to make the rules of magic as follows: Whatever culture you have, influences what you can and cannot do in magic. If your culture tells you that you cannot use magic, because your left nostril is a little bigger than the right one, then that is your truth.

This opened up so many angles to me, that I don’t have any problems when I get a writer’s block. I just end up changing character… Yeah, I don’t do outlining. Which is something I am working on, as with so many of my other projects. I’m working on it.

“But you HAVE to outline! Otherwise, how will you know where you are going?” the short answer is that I don’t. The long answer is that I dooooooooooooooon’t. Now, joking aside. This does mean that I have to be more sensitive and effective at remembering stories. Which is why I spend longer training to write than people that does it the regular way (Outline one book, write one book, rinse, repeat). It means that my outline is not in “a year or so”, it means that the outline is “unknown”. I’m fine with that. My financial future has been “unknown” for five years.

I still look for jobs, but when I apply, I still get either no reply, or a negative reply. It doesn’t get me down any longer. I just sit down, every day, and write. It’s becoming a part of my life. Slowly. Today, I write 4000 words a day. When I started some 194 days ago (10th of march now.) I wrote a mere 500 words a day. And that was hard. Here comes the kicker. I write 4000 words in 50 minutes. When I am not distracted, which has become an integral part of my writing process.

When I apply myself, I don’t do half measures. I don’t go writing 500 words in an hour and am happy with that, I improve that. Then I level up the requirement. Sure, I could have gone with 500 words per day. Then be happy with it. But I would not have written 648,828 words if I did. And I would not have challenged myself to go for 100 000 words on day 3 in my first NaNoWriMo ever. (I won, writing 141,281 words.)

I would like to do the same with a job somewhere. I’ve looked into writing for on-line publications, but most of them requires educations which I don’t have, or a driver’s license, which I cannot afford to get.

End of pt 2. (No, it’s right. I’ve not edited part 1 and 3 yet, but this part is fine enough)

2015-03-08 4097 words, 78.79 WPM 32.56 % typo

Day 195: 4097 words in 52 minutes making the WPM: 78.79! Error rate: 32.56 %

“Me and Peter blinked our way to the place. It was early morning, and we didn’t have that many problems with the sun. Well, Peter didn’t. When we arrived, it looked like a giant warehouse. Peter knocked the door. Then he said that we had to make sure the officer on security was best the man he hoped.

Which as it turned out, it was.

Ah, the doors. Whenever we knocked a door. And it opened, It fell forward. So one had to dodge out of the way. It was according to Peter more of a funny quirk with this place than a standard.

They’d expect you to be alert enough to dodge when you come there. ” ~ Kimberly, Cursed Trueborn Vampyre

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2015-03-05 4055 words, 57.57 WPM

Day 192: 4055 words in 70 minutes making the WPM: 57.57

“Magikeren var ikke på på kontoret sitt. Men var i møte, noe som nesten aldri skjedde. Jeg ventet på kontoret hans.

Vi hadde fått streng beskjed om å ikke røre noe. Likevel var det noe som fanget oppmerksomheten min. Noe som aldri før hadde vært der. Midt i hylla hans, stod en globus. Vel, det så ut some en globus, men den hadde mange armer som rørte seg. Noen skate, andre ganske raskt. Det så ut some om den hadde blitt satt i gang for lenge lenge side. Jeg viste at det var viktig at de rørte på seg, jeg følte det.

Sakte gikk jeg nermere. Gjenstanden rørte seg kjappere, det var ikke mye, men det var nok til at jeg stoppet. Redd for å ødelegge den. “Ser du noe spennende?” Stemmen skremte vettet av meg. Jeg så meg om, men så ingen. “Jeg er her” Stemmen, det var slottsmagikerne. Jeg bare kunne ikke se ham “Ah, Det er grunnen til at alle leter etter meg” Plutselig stod han der, midt i rommet. “Jeg må ha aktivert ringen min, nåh, hva var det du ville mer enn vaktene ville jage deg ut?” Magikeren så snill ut, som han alltid gjorde. Jeg hadde aldrig sett ham sint.

Det var kanskje en bra ting. Mange hadde sagt at jeg burde holde meg unna magikeren. Men jeg like likte mannen.

Han stirret ut over vannet. “Jeg ville fortelle deg om fisken som har dukket opp på stranden bak fjellet” Jeg hoppet nesten av opphisselse. Mannen så skarp skarpt ned på meg. Jeg ble plutselig veldig oppmerksom på at skolissene mine ikke var knytt helt. Det virket some om det ikke brydde mannen nevneverdig.

Følte meg ganske dum egentlig. Det virket some om han viste det allerede. Jeg var på vei til å gå når han spurte. “Fortell, Var det ikke derfor du kom?”

Jeg snudde igjen. Og begynte å fortelle. En diger fisk. Like stor som femti menn minst! Jeg så den komme opp fra dypet, fuglene fløy vekk fra skogen forran stranden! Det var digert! Beistet var enormt. Jeg lurte på hvorfor nyeheten ikke hadde kommet til slottet enda. “trollmannen lukket øynene sine litt, så ut some om han tenkte. Han gjorde ofte dette med oss ungene. Sukkende, “Jeg må dra. Men først må jeg innom kongen. Han trenger ikke lete etter meg. Jeg har jo ikke forsvunnet!

Så løp han avgårde.”

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2015-03-03 4134 words, 61.7 WPM 13.16 % typo


Day 190: 4134 words in 67 minutes making the WPM: 61.7! Error rate: 13.16 %

“Staring into the glass wall be between us in the VIP lounge and the rest of the audience, I felt something change. It felt like something broke in me. I could not quite put my finger on where it came from. I felt tingling in most of my face, scratching didn’t help. That and there were a few other places that tingled. This was new, I had never experienced this before.

The others in the booth made no noise. They didn’t notice anything I think. This would be because I sat there silent. For some reason, I grew really hungry. It was a dull ache at first. However, as the show grew older, this grew in intensity. As the lights turned on, I felt my hunger focus, on the tiny, thudding vein running along the throat of the little girl in the family group.

Pulsing excitedly at the heightened emotions she had from the last part of the show. There were others there, but all I could see was her pulsing blood-vessel. The thugs interjected then. They stood between me and the girl. And was still starting to make themselves larger. Trying to seem significant, but a single word stopped them. Commanding a Halt. My other self had what it wanted. All the time in the world with someone to eat. Then, something unexpected to the other me happened. Peter. ” ~ Kimberly, Cursed Trueborn Vampyre

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2015-03-02 4070 words, 70.17 WPM 21.55 % typo

Day 189: 4070 words in 58 minutes making the WPM: 70.17! Error rate: 21.55 %

“I left them, and found my right hand woman in a dispute with some customer. “What can I do for you sir?” I asked, “Oh, um, Nothing miss” he said, and left the store.

“Rough day? ” I asked. The girl nodded. “He was trying to blame us for his falling on the pavement outside, and wanted another of our products, yet he could not show me the one that had been broken, nor a receipt.

I so scoffed ,there had been a couple of them this month. More than usual. People that would wanted to scam us. I wondered the reasoning behind their attempts. I left them and started readying the store for closing time. Wandering the isles and replacing and removing items, and generally made sure the store was in perfect state before closing.

It wasn’t much, but it helped me calm down about the investments made in the future of the store.” ~ Kimberly, Cursed Trueborn Vampyre

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2015-02-28 4208  words, 67.87 WPM 18.92 % typo

Day 186: 4208 words in 62 minutes making the WPM: 67.87! Error rate: 18.92 %

“I got confused. It was common. I had no trouble reading it. But I could only read common.

“What do you mean? It’s common, surely? I can only read common” The man shook his head.

“Well , whatever language it is, I can’t read it. I feel the advanced powerful magic in here, but I cannot disenchant it, Nor break it. There a is some biological link. That makes it impossible for me. Maybe the court ma high-mage can help you.”

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2015-02-26 4068   words, 68.95 WPM 16.45 % typo

Day 185: 4068 words in 59 minutes making the WPM: 68.95! Error rate: 16.45 %

“I managed to carry the kid to shore. Then set down my rope. Rummaging through my backpack. Also waterproofed. I worked my way to the emergency pack. And found a pair of red glasses. They’d been enchanted to give the wearer special vision. I was a well known traveller. That said, I was not a hero. I could save lives. And did so as much as possible, grabbing the rope. I anchored it in a rock, that had suddenly become visible by the sudden oncoming tide.

The weather was horrible. I had the boy stay. And tied the end of the rope to my self. The glasses hung slinging from a rope that kept it tied to my neck. I’d lost a pair before, they were not cheap. Covering them came a pair of swimmers glasses. The red glasses allowed me to see in the heat spectrum. It’d been a thought of mine to integrate the heat-glasses into the swimming goggles, but I had not had the time. I could spot a little shape, the heat signature looking like a human. The kid looked terrified. I made my way to the shore. Being sure to skip into the water as fast as I could to not sink into the mudded ground.

A dramatic swim to the shape, I managed to throw my arm around their neck. And started pulling the rope with my remaining arm. It was a horrible few seconds as I fought with the rope. When I suddenly felt the rope pull taut. I also felt myself dragged. Barely managing to keep my head above water, I turned. And could see another man standing by the rope.”

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2015-02-24 4056  words, 67.6 WPM 23.69 % typo

Day 183: 4056 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 67.6! Error rate: 23.69 %

“”Its a secret section. When the ban on Ancient class spells were put into effect, I was able to save all these books. I’ve been working in this library ever since. Making sure to acquire the needed resources. This is also where the resources for the herbal salves that you can buy everywhere at a discount are made.

The money that comes back, or magic that is traded is enough to run this library for a long time. And that is the the general idea. They provide the school with a revenue that will allow it to run even longer than the budgets would have allowed it to run before.

I was in shock.

Allow me.” The man stuck out a gloved hand. “Ah, It’s better you know the truth now. ” he said, and un-gloved his hand.

I backed away a bit when I saw that he had no flesh on his hand. A skeletal hand reached out. ” Go on, take it. Shake it. ” Hesitantly, I worked my courage up to grab the hand. There was something that felt so wrong. So so wrong.

“I am Zerxes. The Necromancer. ” The man said. I heard the name, and the pieces started to fall into place. ”

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2015-02-23 4099  words, 68.32 WPM 20.83 % typo

Day 182: 4099 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 68.32! Error rate: 20.83 %

“There was no knowing what kind of a creature this man was.

However that was not so important. So long that you respected the books. And worked to make sure they would be put back where they belonged.

I’d been working hard to figure out how to find my way to the classes more effectively. ” ~ Unknown student, The Ancient Magical University

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2015-02-22 4056  words, 68.75 WPM 21.89 % typo

Day 181: 4056 words in 59 minutes making the WPM: 68.75! Error rate: 21.89 %

“The vistas are still pretty. These giants near flooded their own lands, they’ve dug so far down into the earth, that things start to get hot. And gases gather there. They have to pump air down into those places to let the people we working there breathe.

The little man” Has offered me herbal tea which I have accepted. Hopping he knows what is poisonous to me. I am quite sure he is human. But he might not be.

Are several reasons why I have been ordered travel here. It was not something I did on my own. I am to serve as some sort of spy. Well, spy is a bit aggressive. I’ve gotten the order to write everything down. So I’ve been doing that for some days now. It’s hard though. Constantly writing. And the paper keeps growing thin. The man that I am staying with keeps handing me more paper. As if he knows. I’ve had a few moments terrified that he can read thoughts. Which would be impractical. He’s the one that told me that the gods had arrived with these giants.

Apparently this was an embassy for the people they had brought with them. The giants that is. “The Little people” their moniker is.”  ~ Art Bech , Ambassador ( in the land of the giants, hosted by one of the little people )

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2015-02-21 4077  words, 75 WPM 29.24 % typo

Day 180: 4077 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 75! Error rate: 29.24 %

“We’d not been particularly interested in the stars. They’d been something to look at, to be afraid of. It was something we knew were the. We had not been able to carry any of our people through the air.

Only warlocks if pulling heavily on their warrens could fly. And even then after a few minutes they would be drained.” ~ Cerun, The Wanderer

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2015-02-20 4036 words, 73.38 WPM 22.94 % typo

Day 179: 4036 words in 55 minutes making the WPM: 73.38! Error rate: 22.94 %

“Sure we knew telepathic communications were possible. However we had no reason to believe gods would care about man.

Now that was an interesting thought. The gods of the the previous universe. What would they do when this being trying to consume our universe.

A terrible thought occurred to me. What if they hadn’t really been in any danger.

It was something I had not considered for a little over the half year we had been here.

It was startling to me hat that I had not thought of them. They were huge power-figures after all.

Another thought struck me. If they were as we were convinced that the in universe would end. Wouldn’t they gather all the power they could, then escape? And would they really escape this with us? It was a real possibility. I had no idea.” ~ Cerun, The Wanderer

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2015-02-19 4006 words, 74.19 WPM 28.33 % typo

Day 178: 4006 words in 54 minutes making the WPM: 74.19! Error rate: 28.33 %

“My hands are getting tired of writing this on paper. These journals. They are important. I am an historian. And there has to be a history. There has to be something we can tell our children. I am awaiting one with my wife. We were already waiting when we left our old universe. The little people has not made contact since they left us some decades ago. Now I have to go back.

The first tools of metals were made from some copper-like substances. The metal wasn’t entirely the same. But its properties were similar. We had a few instruments when we came through. They had even managed to survive the trip here. The power required to power it, would be generated with some of our last solid state power generators that we had brought of over from the other universe.

They were easily the most effective ones we had. However we could not power them forever. We had been counting on this. The mass spectrometers were there mostly for finding more fuel to refine for those generators. And if possible to find more materials that we could use. We looked for materials that were similar to our own that we could easily integrate and or change to our match or our knowledge of the old universe. There were many professors that would discuss how this world differed and if it did after all.”  ~ Cerun, The Wanderer

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2015-02-18 4027 words, 77.9 WPM 28.17  % typo

Day 177: 4027 words in 52 minutes making the WPM: 77.9! Error rate: 28.17 %

“Looking to our spells, we could find nothing. We were second in the leaving of the colonies. Exiting our own universe, it is a strange thing to think about. Spells never tried before. Things never attempted. Nobody has ever tried casting teleportation spells that disintegrate their own traces. However the little people are certain that they can make it happen.

There have been test-casts. Nothing was left from that either. And the warlock that left, was unable to return. There was too much at stake. Since it moved the person any direction both on the scale of time, and the scale of possibility, there were problems should he return. That meant he had found out how. Which was something we would like to not know, nor the presence that was draining our universe. The threat that lives between universes.

The Portal opens.”

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2015-02-17 4027 words, 67.12 WPM 23.09 % typo

Day 176: 4027 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 67.12! Error rate: 23.09 %

“The little man seemed to grow a couple of feet. It looked like he was inflating again. His presence started covering the premises of the room again. In an ironclad warm blanket, getting ready to be lulled back to sleep. “The time when the Elder Tree almost ripped itself from the earth it stood in. And nearly broke the planet in half. That’s a tale that I should manage in your class. Perhaps not completely in this time, however I should manage it.”

“A dark, little town. Located at the very edge of the Forester realm. That’s where the tale starts. It starts with a suitably unassuming little boy. His name? Steve. Now, unlike what you might think, Steve didn’t come from a long lost lord’s family. He was the son of a farmer. His father had been working farms his whole life, and his father before him, and on and on.

Now, that sets the colours of the tale. The town. It bordered the largest swampland known to us. It stretched for days, in some cases weeks. The villagers of the little hobble of cottages. They mostly worked with the land. Which was wet. But they managed to catch slimy fish, eels and similar bug-eating fish. There were alligators, but the people of this land had found a way of behaving that made alligator attacks nearly extinct.

And when the creatures did attack, they knew the ways to get the wounds to heal through both magic and herbs. These ways made them work in their healing wards. The region was known for this little town’s healing wards. However the town was hard to find, and if you weren’t an experienced traveller, you would most likely need the wards. People would heal within days, not weeks. Where other places would work for weeks, months, sometimes years.

I was not going to speak too long about the town. Because it is a blip on the map of the travels of this boy. This boy, when he grew out of his bed. The little cottage anyone that grows large enough to get out of their mothers womb gets. That one. The lad was thrown out into the swamps. When he resurfaced. He was no longer at home. Something felt wrong. Like he was pulled through something to somewhere.

And then. Before anything else. He felt sand. Sand everywhere. Breathing was hard. He fell through the cracks of the world. And there. The boy had been spit out in a desert. He had heard of the desert. Never though thought anything about it. It was in the stories, after all. Now it was not in a story any longer. His desire to get home, nearly brought him back. It felt like there was a way back the same route he came here. “” ~ The storyteller – Friend of Helga Leger

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2015-02-16 4039 words, 59.4 WPM 19.88 % typo

Day 175: 4039 words in 68 minutes making the WPM: 59.4! Error rate: 19.88 %

“Helga waved the young Alonzo Stormdancer over to the podium. “Could you show us how far you got with the tale?” The boy nodded, however he was unsure if he had been good enough. Helga could see that. It was not until he had moved away from the seat, that the storyteller was able to see that there had been a painters gear there. The desk had been angled away from the podium.

There were some students that preferred to take notes in this way. Not having to angle their heads or eyes in the strange downward facing that Flat desks did entail. There, I could sense the gaze of the man change. It was something of a delight to see the surprise, as he looked over the paintings. The boy was a natural talent, and commanded the colours of paint intensely. Using what I could only describe as magic to both make sure there was a thin line where there needed to be, and incredible speed when there was a lot to paint.

The twenty or so paintings that he had finished in the time the man had been telling the build-up to his tale. A particular painting caught the eye of the storyteller, and they started tearing up. Starting the lesson by telling a little of himself, and how he started his job as a storyteller.

There had been a few descriptions of how his life had started. What had given him the interest to tell stories. There were a thing that would always stay with him.” ~ Averey Bendel, Trainee Storyteller

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2015-02-15 4051 words, 64.3 WPM 23.28 % typo

Day 174: 4051 words in 63 minutes making the WPM: 64.3! Error rate: 23.28 %

“Men and women from all parts of the country are gathering, whatever they can carry off value. Backpacks filled with non-perishable food. Backpacks of tech. There are so many things they need. We need. It’s not long before we have a sixth, nearly of all our population. It’s a staggering number.

We hope to not run into a battle when we arrive, but we are sure there will or might be some hostilities where we arrive if the place is already occupied. Therefore we look like there might be a battle. The armed forces carry not only gear for their own survival, and their armour, and their weapons.

Activation day is getting ever closer.” ~ Cerun, The Wanderer

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2015-02-14 4055 words, 56.32 WPM 15.34 % typo

Day 174: 4055 words in 72 minutes making the WPM: 56.32! Error rate: 15.34 %

“We’re working on how to make sure there will be survivable places. That might add the cost of the spell. But we think the man or woman carrying the souls would not mind carrying a few more.

The man stepped down, the giant sheet of paper was enlarged enough the probability equations he had calculated was feasible by all. He’d managed the improbable and likely impossible, feat of pressing the spell to the optimal threshold of getting almost all the energy out of the souls, but still allowing them to maintain a form, and their memories.

I was impressed. And starting to feel a lot better. “Now”

The king was speaking again. “We haven’t brought you here to simply tell you all this. You have been attached to the armed forces. It is a mandatory motion, that will allow you to command them in the party you will be going through. We’ve calculated each party to be able to carry all your family members, and children to fill the rest of the slots.

There will be a few left here but we will send anyone that knows the equations, and or probability factors to the rest of the spells through in the case of the whatever is eating our reality, begin able to calculate or even understand our language. We do not want them to be able to follow us.” ~ Cerun, The Wanderer

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2015-02-13 4172 words, 69.53 WPM 21.62 % typo

Day 172: 4172 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 69.53! Error rate: 21.62 %

“The land was maintained by the little insects that swarmed the landscape. It had been some fifty years since the large calamity that scorched the earth. There were nothing left, except for small pockets that still for some reason still had access to the lush forests that were once covering the continent. It’d taken no more than one man to man make sure that all those lives were not lost.

This man, was an ancestor of mine. He had long since passed. Well, Not long since. It was an accepted truth that he probably still lived. However the manner in which he lived was nothing compared to the I did. From what we could see the efforts he put together to make something that would last a long time long after himself. It looked to be working. It was technically not rule by family. It’d been a single year since that time. How they managed to make the first-borne actually grab the throne, it was something of a mystery to the extended relations.

Fair enough. My opening paragraph might have been no more than some fifty or so years late. It was actually meant to say a hundred or so years. The exact date is not something the commonality remember. We don’t really care that much. Only the throne seems to be interested in making that distinction. The counting of the seasons, and years is something that we have given up a long time ago. Mostly since there are a couple of ways of counting time, and none of them interface well.

So we leave that to the educated masses. Right, I was describing the huge desert that stretches around the continent. It was something of a safe-guard. There were other entrances to our lands. However most of them were guarded by gatekeepers. Their families had been making themselves rich by trade. There are certain laws that they have to keep, but they are free to trade products from the kingdom and boundless harvests so long that the fauna isn’t harmed in the process.” ~ Bol, Storyteller – distant relation of King Alonzo

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2015-02-12 4169 words, 59.56 WPM 26.82 % typo

Day 171: 4169 words in 70 minutes making the WPM: 59.56! Error rate: 26.82 %

“The ride to the point went fast. Faster than I could remember.. However the horse would be steaming when I let him rest. We were riding the horses rather hard so we would be there in time to do the minimum needed preparations.

The girl was already there when we got there, she waved behind me, “All alone? I guess we see what you are made out of.” Her beautiful eyes were shining. Shit. I was certain that I had been riding with my grounds. If I had to do their work, I would have to reach for the leylines. Thankfully the leylines were closer to the surface at this location.

Being the point for many a storm, it was well managed, and well drawn forth. Hundreds of grounds had pulled on the leylines that intersected here. Come to think of it, I wondered if the leylines were here first. It was not something known to happen. Leylines moving. But I guessed it was possible. Given that these had once been laying far beneath the surface.” ~ Victor, Storm Dancer

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2015-02-11 4065 words, 65.56 WPM 20.07 % typo

Day 170: 4065 words in 62 minutes making the WPM: 65.56! Error rate: 20.07 %

“Our numbers slowly grew. There were a few of us that went wandering outside our original borders. The mountains seemed forgotten. I sensed a storm. Far on the outreaches of my own senses. However I sensed it. And I sensed something going wrong with it. Thereafter it slowly diminished. Walking as slowly as I could, using my red vision, to avoid stepping on anyone. Or anything if I could avoid it. I made as little noise as possible, walked up to the storm. Managing nearly to reach it before it dissipated. There, in the middle of the place where the storm had vanished.

I saw another creature. A man. He had two more at his side. And a few steps from that, I sense saw another group. There were five in all. Those that shone the brightest were the men in the middle. I had no idea how, but they had so much magic inside them that I think not even our magical protections in the skin would hide it. They didn’t care to hide it. And then there was a train of marbles. Small tiny glass marbles. That contained magic. And such a quantity of magic. It was immense I was terrified that they could gather this much into those tiny little objects.

I could accidentally crush one while on a stroll. I walked away. Soon though, I was followed. Curiously by one of the magicians that had been there. He caught up with me. Probably through warren. I was loathe to provide access to our warren. so I did not rip a hole here. There were rules those with enough power could hitch a ride in others footsteps even through unfamiliar warrens. And this magician had enough power. “Hey there, don’t run!

The man shouted. I walked slowly making sure not to step on the tiny form. It was hard enough as it was, without his light blinding me. “I just want to talk ” The man had said. I wondered that. I was afraid he might hurt me. I could not see any harm in his heart. “Ah, so it is true.” Your eyes, their look is piercing. Like you can see straight through any mask I put on” The man said. I slowly stat down. ” What do you want?” I asked.

The sound of my voice so unfamiliar to myself in this environment, I could be heard for many many miles. There were a few things I would like to ask of this human, Was he not afraid? “Don’t worry, I plan to ask you questions, and I bet you want to ask me questions, I propose one question, one answer then the others turn?” He looked sharp, too sharp for his age. A sheepish smile adorned his lips. ” ~ Cerun, The Wanderer

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 2015-02-10 4261 words, 71.02 WPM 23.00 % typo

Day 169: 4261 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 71.02! Error rate: 23.00 %

“He looked at me with compassion in his eyes. “To be such a young Vampyre and have this conundrum. It is amazing that you have not fallen. I hope you will. Because that is what is the most attractive to me. Your inability and will to fall into the trap of Vampyre heritage of violence.

The man looked beyond my eyes, and into the starts behind us. “You need to go. This has taken a lot longer than you think and your show is about to start.” I reviewed what I had learnt. The rage I had gotten rid of today, was rage that had leaked into a mental plane within myself. I wondered the significance that he had been able to enter without difficulties. I had no idea. The trainer was still standing there when I blinked away. He would come for me in the morrow for our next lesson. For some reason the man carried a lot of legaleese documents.

Apparently it was a thing to be well versed in legaleese in the Vampyre world. He wanted me to sign a few documents as he called it. It’d only take five minutes he said. But before that we needed to make an adjustment immediately. I had been told to come to an abandoned bunker. I could easily get back by blinking. My Vampyre was getting so much better at knowing our location that he and I could get back with one or two jumps. It was something of a sport amongst he Vampyres apparently to spend the least number of jumps when Blinking.” ~ Kimberly, Trueborn cursed Vampyre

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 2015-02-09 4180 words, 64.31 WPM 17.15 % typo

Day 168: 4180 words in 65 minutes making the WPM: 64.31! Error rate: 17.15 %

It was hard to explain to Peter what had happened. But I grabbed the man, and lifted him over my shoulder. His body felt light. Peter looked at me quizzically. There were some seconds of silence before I left Peter behind for my trailer.

I had little in common with the man. However I would not kill him, like my Vampyre wanted. The thing could not spin things long into the future, about his own nose, that was the length of his foresight. I’d have to explain to him positive things of having a live were-beast. It should be pretty obvious.

The man that was now limply lying on my shoulders, looked to be about twenty. Maybe thirty. I’d never been good with ages. That might have come from my parents looking like they were eighty, while themselves claiming they were forty. In their human form they looked really really old. I expect this was to compensate for the knowledge they contained. There had to be multitudes of knowledge that made them work they way they did.


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 2015-02-08 4284 words, 71.4 WPM 20.07 % typo

Day 167: 4284 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 71.4! Error rate: 20.07 %

“”You’re first again? ” She said, ans I entered the classroom. “Yeah, the signs are obvious to me. ” I said. IT was the truth. “I detect no signs of falsehoods from you. “Looking around the classroom, she looked lie she was truck by something. “You’re that kid that isn’t on the lists, right?” I nodded.

“I’m nos supposed to grade you, but I think I will. I like your style, And I think i you can teach the other students more. You are so in tune with the environment that the anchors I leave for you to scry for is clear to you. I need to learn that. It’d been an amazing skill to have. “your anchors is not the reason why my senses are this good.” I said scorning.

She looked as if she had been bitten by a snake, Face twisting. “Look, I’m sorry ” The tone grew softer.” ~ Alonzo Storm

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 2015-02-07 4570 words, 76.17 WPM 31.84 % typo

Day 166: 4570 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 76.17! Error rate: 31.84 %

“There is a leyline running straight underneath this place. That is one of the more interesting things. They have a leyline running straight underneath the school. It’s rather close by the building seven. More so there is a bend underneath the very same building, which I am standing on top of. This made me think there had been dancer here before.

Because the leyline is actually thicker underneath this building. Thus it occurred to me that the dancer that built the building probably danced here a lot, and those changes happened to the leyline as a result. It was tall enough to end up right under the ceiling. Which made reaching out to the storm not too far.

Therefore I was wondering the implications of my findings when I had been dancing a few times I noticed that the building started repairing itself.

It had been in disrepair for quite some time. However as soon as I started dancing. It repaired itself. Therefore I was thinking this building was a Stormdancer construction.

Lightning arcs shot off from my feet. the magical energy riding through my back, and unto the feet then shot into the roof of the conductive building.” ~ Alonzo Storm

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 2015-02-06 4044 words, 64.19 WPM 21.09 % typo

Day 165: 4044 words in 63 minutes making the WPM: 64.19! Error rate: 21.09 %

“Looking through our little table. I could see that Mia was eating a bit more protein than she usually would. Alexander didn’t do much extra, Storm, he looked around, then poured something strange scenting into his glass. He offered it to me, and I smelled a bit. I Really really wanted to gobble up all of it. My Vampyre was crazed at it. I restrained him down rather easily, and was able to settle with the boring food on my plate, I did however spike my drink. The blood was that of a were-beast that had lived some centuries past.

I’d managed to find another stack of it in another blood-bank. Taking it out, and storing it in the Freaq. There everyone accepted me. Here, only the Group Helga had made accepted me. However they their acceptance was far better than the scorn I was getting from the rest of the crowd. I looked through the crowds searching for my first match. I was left to my own devices after the food was consumed. On my way back to my room to get my war-staff, I was surprised by someone that was going to punish me for my sins apparently. I could see there was not much power lain behind his fist. Even with his magical bolstering, I could not quite figure out why he was hitting me.

The boy seemed genuinely surprised when I didn’t even budge. The robe was so heavy it absorbed all of his efforts. “Look, I really really don’t have the time to deal with this. If you are quite finished, I would like to leave now. ”

The boy simply stared at me. As I stepped past the somewhat docile creature that had been so very big and tough just moments before. I stomped.

I knew I shouldn’t have, my weight were placed on the foot in front, and the back foot stomped. I knew there was a carrying structure under my front foot, so my weight was wonderfully carried. The plate in the floor behind me broke. Just pulverised. To the surprise of people walking in the hallway below this one.

The person that had tried punching me stood there gaping. I had no time to explain or harass them back. Entering my room, I gathered my staff.

We made a connection as we always did before he did his line of work. There was an expectant air to him. “The tournament is still going on? I thought they ended this old thing centuries ago.”” ~ Kimberly, Trueborn cursed vampyre

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 2015-02-05 4240 words, 56.53WPM 17.08 % typo

Day 164: 4240 words in 75 minutes making the WPM: 56.53! Error rate: 17.08 %

“They fell asleep for real. The darkness took their pain away for a few hours more.

It was far past mid-day when the inspector arrives. The  condition of the children is not much better.

The inspector takes one look on the children, then leaves a little black rock on each of their bed stands. Their conditions immediately improve. And they know, they’re going to be changing schools.


They will become magicians. Not knowing if this is good or bad. Warlocks, maybe.

Their parents silently cry as the man tells them the procedures that they will have to endure. On the plus side, the parents are expected to be reimbursed for their troubles.

The children manage to see tail of the inspector as he leaves as they get out of bed for the first time in a week or two. Their parents calls in sick. And they manage to make it a day of joy. They will probably not see their kids again. At least for a few years. Probably not at all. The state has strange rules for children that are picked up for becoming magicians.

The parents has no right to see their young, nor do they usually allow the young to go home. There are exceptions, but these two are not one of these exceptions.

Looking through the window of the other place people in the street one would see nothing but mediocre buildings. Their houses would be a little smaller, and have a little less technology. It was something the parents of Mia and Alexander prided themselves on.

Having the nicest house, and the best technology. ” ~ The Spectator
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 2015-02-04 4094 words, 67.11 WPM 24.57 % typo

Day 163: 4094 words in 61 minutes making the WPM: 67.11! Error rate: 24.57 %

“A horrible shrieking happened when Mia was taken. Thereafter we found that there was some sort of commotion, and a strange horrible light. Then they came carrying Alexander out. We could not get any response from him, me and Mia was able to communicate eye to eye. As was my best friend. My fears got the better of me. And I started imagining the efforts these people would have to go through. And we found that we were simply thrown into the back of vans. Then driven away. The cars carried a bunch of students each. Luckily, me, my best friend, Mia and Alexander was thrown into the same van. We were completely alert when the van stopped somewhere. The lights that streamed through the back door window. The windows weren’t very big on these doors. The back of the van was suddenly ripped apart. I saw the door thrown off it’s hinges, both of them in fact.

There, A woman stood. A feral look on her face. Her eyes didn’t look like she was going to do anything other than kill us, rip us to shreds. Then she calmed down the transformation was immediate and completely unexpected. It looked to me like she had suddenly flicked a switch. Thereafter I was getting cut down, from the harnesses that held us up. The same was three friends. There weren’t any bindings on our feet, so we were able to follow the woman, who now carried Alexander. The men that had been driving all the night, lay by the side of the driveway. The lot, was bloodied. They had puncture wounds in their lungs and were breathing heavily. Like they were dying. I lagged behind a second too long, and the woman shouted to hurry up, and that the men would live. If only for a little while.

Then she cackled. ” ~ A friend of Alexander Silverstin

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2015-02-03 4118 words, 68.63 WPM 25.06 % typo

Day 162: 4118 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 68.63! Error rate: 25.06 %

“Then one day Esmer extended her invitation to me. For some reason I felt glad. And accepted. The first time was somewhat scary. I felt terrified they would not accept a vampyre.

However Helga looked at me once, and waved me in.

I couldn’t tell if that was scorn on her face, or approval. It was a largely unreadable face. Due to a couple of scars. They were three huge. One went from the lower end of her ear, then crossed through the lower lip, and ended up by her neck. A thinner one, above and below it, that went not as far. The middle one was deepest though. I had never seen anything like this before. I couldn’t help but stare. Esmer had told me to bring my staff. I couldn’t say why, but she told me I would get to use it.

Helga nodded, seeing the staff, she waved me to some part of the office that had been furnished as a sparring zone. She grabbed a rapier, and asked me to join her for a sparring match. I brought my staff. “Any speciality rules?” Helga asked. I shook my head. The war staff wouldn’t bend to anyone. Well, it was inclined to be nice to me. In some cases save my life. But I paid back in due time. That was the rules. It was a legendary weapon after all. It would take its toll.

There would always be pain in payment. I knew that. One did not get anything for nothing. Therefore I was getting ready as Helga threw her first strike. The staff nearly flew out of my hands. My grip tightened. And the next strike was parried easily.

After that I parried the next three strikes that would be hitting vital points. Then Helga got creative. In rapid succession, she started attacking, and feigning attacks. But whatever she did, she could not get through the staff. And the staff would be there waiting for her sword. That was when she started using magic. I could tell she was getting desperate. The staff countered most of the attacks. The one that caught both the staff, and me by surprise was when she feigned attacks with the sabre, the block was there, however the second arm was also quickly on its way to my stomach, and sticking out of it, were claws.” ~ Kimberly, Trueborn cursed Vampyre

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2015-02-02 4010 words, 60.76 WPM 20.10 % typo

 Day 161: 4010 words in 66 minutes making the WPM: 60.76! Error rate: 20.10 %

“It was how it always was when I went into this trance. An hour or three later, I found myself st waking up, sitting in the trailer. Feeling the first rays of the sun touch my forehead, the place the Freaq had landed at now, was a mountain chain, it was apparently on the very top of the mountain. There would be a few things that would be working in our favour.

Getting to the tent this time would be a little bit of a trek. However the townspeople was prepared.” ~ Kimberly

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2015-02-01 4247 words, 60.67 WPM 23.52 % typo

Day 160: 4247 words in 70 minutes making the WPM: 60.67! Error rate: 23.52 %

“”Be gentle, don’t make a sound” I said, and left the stage, to walk amongst the crowds, seeing if I could gauge the state of mind in the audience. The noise-makers were getting their louder noises out. After a short round, I stepped up to the front of the stage, Outlined against the white stage light, I was seen by most of the audience, which was the idea.

I started chanting something nondescript, and the man on stage seemed to start the change. And by “seemed”, I mean that he was changing. All of a sudden, a howl. Snarling followed. And the man was turning into a beast. Hind legs elongating, bending in ways it’s not supposed to, where pants would’ve been before he now grew a longer more muscled stomach than he had carried before. The wolf looked angry, still snarling, we had made the wolf settle through our shifting his attention to the goat. He was mid-slanter over to the goat when I was unluckily able to knock over a plate conveniently leaned onto the stage.

The wolf turned suddenly. And looked straight at me. Skipping through the lit ring. Goat forgotten, the wolf landed on top of my chest, pushing me down the middle vomitorium. I kept it at bay by sticking my hand into the mouth of the slobbering creature. Another howl, this time in the distance lured the wolf and it vanished.

The goat was left standing on the stage, lying there terrified in her own piss and shit. Stepping onto the stage, the blood spurting from my hand hit the stage with a musky, rust-like smell. My hand was ripped right off. “There are certain risks that come with this job” I shouted. The crowd was deathly silent, the lights went out. ” ~ Kimberly, the cursed true-born Vampyre

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2015-01-31 4132 words, 63.57 WPM 17.96 % typo

4132 words in 65 minutes making the WPM: 63.57! Error rate: 17.96 %

“I sensed the man barring his teeth, thinking to press me against the sword forcing me to stand still.

“I would be really careful” my wife said. The first time they had heard her speak. It froze the room. Even the surgeon stopped his sewing. Transfixed.

Which was interesting enough. Vampyres weren’t usually get affected by their own. I guess there was something to be earned by being the Spirit queen of the continent. The surgeon was the first to recover. “And why would that be” The Vampyre rasped, his throat hoarse with lust. The blood flowing fingers breadths away from his teeth.

Hunger had clearly the better of him, but not for long. The chilling laugher laughter from myself woke him a little. I was still within his grasp. “You really think you could even touch me? Try the sword. It won’t find its way to my throat. It can’t cut the throat.” The man tried. And god did he try. Yet my static power by magical enforcing was stronger than his grip on the sword. And the sword stayed put. The thread was still invisible. Well, not invisible.

But thin, so thin that he could not see it clearly without focusing on the area around where it was located. I had my hands down. And the sword wasn’t moving. The tread was held by some anchor scales. They’d been pulled up, but the man hadn’t noticed. They were in the front after all. The hinges that had been set into the scales to allow movement to some degree didn’t allow it further up, and the way I had threaded the thread around the front, then to the sword made the sword stay put.” ~ Zerxes, The legendary Necromancer

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2015-01-30 4047 words, 66.34 WPM 18.16 % typo

4047  words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 66.34! Error rate: 18.16 %

“The book read: “It’s been several days since my two hundredth victory in the sword tournament. I still on wonder why they hold it. It can’t be motivating for someone to know that an old geezer like myself has been beating this tournament for two hundred years in a row. This was something that most of the teachers wouldn’t mention to the hopeful students.

There had not been anyone that has managed to remove the taint of the swords completely. I reduced them by thousands of factors. And that has kept me alive while constantly wearing of them since their creation.

Hundreds of tiny layered spells are set into the metal. And that make them rather powerful they need no maintenance. I haven’t ever had any of the armour or swords take damage. Though scale mail is not something that is often used, my mine has been used to great effect. I have survived five or six wars in since their embrace of my body. One of them were a spirit war. Where a death god came to claim my land. However I was able to thwart him, simply with my own force. Warping space around you is something you can do when you connect to the land you are located in well enough that you can main almost natively control anything that happens in that zone.

The death god had attempted to get me on his home turf. However had not thought to check how well I could connect to unfamiliar zones. I managed to chase the claimant off.” ~ Alonzo Storm reading a journal left behind by Zerxes, The legendary Necromancer.

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2015-01-29 4093 words, 68.22 WPM 15.73 % typo

4093 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 68.22! Error rate: 15.73 %

“The town was a small port, the captain had told me to wait with carrying the luggage down. Until I had gotten used to the feeling of the sand beneath my feet. I didn’t know what he spoke of, I had forgotten. Until I stood on the ground. And felt the world tilt . It was one of the most wrong feelings I have ever experienced.

And my body responded like a drunkard, sending me straight into the pier. It was not a hard fall. But it was a strange way to fall. All of a sudden, you are walking up a steep incline. There is no incline.

I felt the world tilt. Then, responding to a world that was tilting, I was suddenly lying on the ground. Looking up at the sky, that waved a little from side to side. It took a full hour before the feeling settled. This was the time the crew needed to barter this port, and set off. However they waited for me. The captain had something for me, and wanted to say his goodbyes.

Settling the feelings and working out how to use my feet again, it was a strange thing to experience. And I am glad for it. It was one of the first disorientation spells I had suffered, and that has made me more adaptive later when people really cast that thin shit on me.

This place was also the first place I met cars.

I’m told you have them on your world as well. To me the emergence of a metal beast that roared as it moved around was the most scary thing I had ever seen. I was terrified. But a part of my brain was always noticing the little things.

Things like the fact that some people was walking on some places along the stores that was higher up than the rest of the street. They didn’t look afraid at all of these metal beasts. ” ~ Alonzo Storm

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2015-01-28 4148 words, 69.13 WPM 20.49 % typo

4148 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 69.13! Error rate: 20.49 %

“”Your influence field feels like A storm. I think you could camouflage yourself with this influence field. And that funnel, I am wondering how it can even maintain itself. However it is pulling in an extraordinarily high amount of magic. So however it is being used, make it continue this way. I cannot maintain the efficiency that you had here.”

The man moved on. The slight sensing of magic, that they could do. Though they could not mould magic themselves. Their senses were so such extended that they would sense other people’s magic even thought they could not maintain or mould such magic themselves.

Casting spell was something I learnt in the formal way later in life. I had not heard of the concept that is before I turned some twenty five cycles.

Sorry, Years. It’s still a habit after all those years. Even the five in this world. I still call them cycles.

I had become a full Dancer when the first storm that would crave lives came (in my lifetime as a Dancer at least). Our teams were to be the head shavers. We were not to drain more than two percent. A little amount, to blunt the main winds and such.

There were a few things that would be going wrong that night. I could not explain, but I had had a strange feeling all day. There were butterflies in my belly, and the hands and feet felt light. Like there was a disaster ahead. That said, I still soldiered on. As if I knew something would happen, it would not be hard enough to knock me down.

How wrong I was. ” ~ Alonzo Storm

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2015-01-27 4057 words, 67.62 WPM 16.32 % typo

4057 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 67.62 ! Error rate: 16.32 %

“Getting their pants in a bunch, they made no efforts to discourage me.

I could sense their anticipation. The storm was about to break. That was something I would have to get used to. For the by very next day, I had started training to become a Storm-dancer. As had my sister. It was something of a horribly strange thing to find both of us on the team of the trainees.

We had to sign introduction pledges. It was done in blood. The funny part? We don’t have a written language. The word “signing” in our language meant well, it translates to something like promise; or maybe pledge. Yeah, pledge that’s a word I like.

It has nothing to do with writing. That being because there are no such things as the written word in our nation. We did not write. Where am I? Right. I was telling you about the first class. Apparently the first few classes are about having fun. Well, to me it was fun. To my sister, it was terrifying.

I learnt that day that I was a daredevil at heart. Nobody could out-dare me. I would skip off the cliffs, landing safely in the water. It was great fun. As I did, I sensed something change within me as well.

The exercises that we were taught at school was I felt like I was already doing. It felt like. Ah, what is that word you have for it? De- DE-ja something, it’ll come to me.” ~ Alonzo Storm

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2015-01-26 4011 words, 65.75 WPM 24.96 % typo

4011 words in 61 minutes making the WPM: 65.75! Error rate: 24.96 %

“I was excused from class. At which point I fell apart, and Amanda had to carry me away from the class. Before we entered a suddenly emerging door. And the corridor if doors allowed us entry into the secret section of the library. I lazily marvelled at my own ingenuity. And fell asleep right there. Amanda had something to take care of, so she simply plopped me down in one of the beds that were lined along one of the more silent walls.

There were bubbles of silence-spells around the bed.. And the blanket was warm. There were so many things that would be working through my heart. I could barely contain the feelings that were going through my body. I was wondering if they were mine, or the new boys. Well, the newborn boys. Technically he was just reborn.

I doubted that would be added in the incident report. It would probably contain what had happened. Nearly. There would be a report of that sold the tale that a minor injury was obtained. And that I had healed the boy.

I was not sure, but I fell into darkness. The warm, comfortable darkness of the dream work world.” ~ Zerxes, the Legendary Necromancer

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2015-01-25 4299 words, 71.65 WPM 27.82 % typo

4299 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 71.65! Error rate: 27.82 %

“Well, I didn’t have to save him. I could’ve let he him perish. However I had the the ability to save him. And Amanda had made contact with the man. The young boy hadn’t even realised he was dead. He thought he was dreaming. There were a few things that’d been lost in his memory this was something to be expected. He would have to get used to that.

The efforts I was making seemed to to stick. I watched the eyes of the headmaster, and the librarian. They looked for some sort of indication that things would be turn sour. “I think i I’ve gotten the parts I need, the spell emulates stable. And I should be able to correct the rest on the fly.

Now the only thing that was left was the soul that had been trying to escape. We had confirmed that the soul was the lads. And there was only the bindings that remained. Therefore I was getting ready to cast the spells. The soul was transported through the funnels that I had made, and ended up in the orb, like planned. What I hadn’t planned was for the orb to contain him so well that it had. There was nearly no effective way to traverse the barrier that was the orbs surface.” ~ Zerxes

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2015-01-24 4061 words, 68.83 WPM 24.70% typo

4061 words in 59 minutes making the WPM: 68.83! Error rate: 24.70 %

“The teacher that I had now, was one of those advanced teachers. She had gracefully allowed me admittance. Investigating the world, I still attempted from time to time to find the seams to the world. It was not only a way to work on my senses, but also a puzzle. I was sure this world was a magical construct, with stricter rules of conduct, however not completely impossible. That is some of the things that were going on in my head as the chilling splinters of bone breaking suddenly started all of us awake.

The student that had been asked to perform a demonstration and had suddenly exploded.

Their spells had gone wrong in some way, the entirety of the class was splattered with his blood. He was dead instantly.

It was something I would be overseeing the memory over many many times to revise future encounters like this.

Reflexively, I cast out a net, “net” being a term for an area spell usually cast to catch something.

The teacher suddenly started out of her shock.

“What do you think you are doing!? ” She shrieked at the top of her lungs. But my brain was already working in high-gear, I snagged the soul particles that hadn’t instantly moved on.

There were a few things that would be working in my favour. I had cast the web rather quickly, so most of his particles would still be here. Anyone that was leaking after that was caught and kept together. Quickly looked around the room, I shouted for Emanuel, and Wiljar to get down here, Their minds suddenly all business. I’d been commanding. And apparently it was working because they came down, slack-faced.

Looking like machinations more than humans. I called a few other names with their orders. Things were done very quickly. Maintaining the particles, and grasping the particles that were still pouring from the body.

Therefore I was looking through the options that I had. The orders were working, and people started arriving with the supplies that I had ordered them to get. There were not many spells that were made for getting souls to stick to their dead body and reanimate them. Well, there were a lot. However I had not read of any that I remembered. Because even those things were taboo at the library before I had been sent here.

There were a few thins that would ease the transition from being a spirit to being alive again.” ~ Zerxes, the legendary necromancer.

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2015-01-23 4147 words, 61.9 WPM 28.33% typo

4147 words in 67 minutes making the WPM: 61.9! Error rate: 28.33 %

“Out here in the middle of nowhere though. There is little you can do if you are lonely. It’s not like a pretty girl will fall into your lap when you are out strolling. Yet that is, if you will believe me, exactly what happened to me when I was out this very harsh and cold night.

Falling from the sky, she looked like she belonged in a court somewhere far off.

Like there had been a second of pause in the sky. And the lord himself had stepped down to give her to me. I hadn’t thought of him in a while. The lord.

Our lord. Our god and saviour. He was the reason we still lived, he was the reason for all of our existence. We lived, bred, and died for him. That was our calling. And we all felt it in our bones.

It was as much set in stone as was anything else on this earth.

For that for all that, I now believed in the lord again. My faith was renewed. The girl was unconscious. However she didn’t look cold.

When I picked her up, she was hot to the touch. More like an oven. It was unlike anything I had ever seen.

I felt a dread form in my gut. It had to be magic. And that was the work of the devil. Everyone knew that.

These thoughts and many more plagued me as I walked back to the cottage at the edge of town. It had been in my family fort the longest of times. There were nobody there. It had been something of a hobby of mine to live here from time to time. I loved the weather. It was something of a hobby of mine to study it, and describe the changes that I could see.

Not to brag, but I am someone of importance. I have a degree in meteorology. It is not an exact science, but it’s getting there. However I am sure it will work better than the wretched storm-glass that most people still carries.

I carry one myself. If nothing else than to remind myself of the stupidity of the common man.

Sure, it was an awesome statistical tool. However it did not really correspond with the reality of the weather around where it was located. It did however react rather violently, and interestingly to magic.

Depending on the magic used, there would be a range of different effect. That was something I had yet to see. I wanted to put the girt down. But as I explained the wind was less than kind, and I thought to get someone this little dressed inside before they perished. I had heard enough stories that there would be little chance of her living if she stayed outside, magic or no. The thought unsettled me. Like there was something worse than disrespecting god by leaving this girl outside.” ~ Unknown tundra-dweller

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2015-01-22 4028 words, 63.94 WPM 23.61 % typo

4028 words in 63 minutes making the WPM: 63.94! Error rate: 23.61 %

“I was amazed. Looking to the places he has had been pointing to I could see the amazing thin lines of spells. He was referring to the bindings that kept this place together. And I could see how this place was locked off. Anyone with a lick of presence could actually make this entire place implode essentially. Well, no. Not essentially. I looked at the man. “That’s crazy! How can someone make this work? I have no idea, how can you even allow strangers to see this, providing that it was you who made this?” I looked at him.

I couldn’t think of anything other than that. “Oh, It was me alright. And the reason is pretty simple.” he again pointed to the strange strings of spell that twirled around in empty black space. “Because if you were to interrupt those, nothing would have happened to the rest of the place. This is a pocket one like the rest of the training-rooms. However I made it weaker to allow people the viewing pleasure of seeing some universe halfway built with magic.

The reason I set up a puzzle to get in is so that people that are smart enough will find it, and a s a challenge to myself. I always visit this place. You can take it as a challenge if you wish. If you were to tear those down, this glass would protect you. And the open door would provide you with oxygen, or the holes cleverly hidden would. If there are other people in the common room. That is why this glass is so extensive. And why I can with safety show you and other students this place.

But don’t you agree? Those thin lines of spellweaving, is the only thing that protects this little ball of glass and iron, to the pressure of the void. That just beyond this glass, you can find the void. Outside everything. If that is not mind-bending, then you either have a dull mind. Or you are already a beast from the void.” ~ Anonymous student, and Zerxes, the legendary Necromancer.

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2015-01-21 4306 words, 71.77 WPM 24.06% typo

4306 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 71.77! Error rate: 24.06 %

“Well, I have learnt how to cast spell to bring back the dead. It warns that it has to be cast almost immediately after the deceased has passed. For reasons that are pretty obvious if you ask me. The longer they have been dead, the longer they have had to spread their souls.

Our people belie the soul is spread amongst the remaining inhabitants of the world. Whomever has had contact will retain some part of the soul of the departed. That is something we all believe. This belief is rooted in the anger of the gods that we pray to.

From time to time they have manifested proof, or anger. Devices that they are speaking to their priests with. The rest of us follow our priests. We have a couple of gods . One of them for the the heat that lets us live that far north. The rocks that allow us our sanctuary from the winds and harsh temperatures. Therefore we are all looking to make friends with the people that are known to be on his side.

I’ve been reading a a book from he ancient necromancers. This book speaks of the ways people die, and how you can retain the most soul particles.

There rare things that this school does that is interesting enough. Every year it keeps a sword tournament, Really? Swords. The very same outdated sharpened metal stick. Magic is far better a weapon I think. However there has apparently been a reigning champion for a very very long time.

I have no idea who this man is, but they say he is really really powerful. That is a given though. I mean, If he wasn’t how could he keep the title for so long. However long it is he has been keeping it.” ~ Unknown student of same academy that Zerzes went to.

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2015-01-20 4364 words, 72.73 WPM 25.05% typo

4364 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 72.73! Error rate: 25.05 %

“I won’t let him win, of course.

My swords leaden with a stun-spell, hits him flat on the back. His body stunned, he can do nought but look at me with angry and hateful eyes when I walk to the front of the giant man. Arming myself with a force push, I gently shove him. The man falls with the satisfying sound of something huge falling to the ground. It’s a giant smack, coupled with something wet.

Something like this should never happen. A chill runs down my spine as the judges call the winner. I’ve a slight problem . The spell is not intended for short term use. Therefore I cannot deactivate it until it has destabilised a bit. Well, I could try to destabilise it myself. However, that is .. Erm.. Ineffective, and in most cases harmful as to where the fallout from the spell might end up. And also the places that I might hit when the spells are going out through the shield from the inside of the barrier.

The judges looked as shocked as I felt. That was relatively easy. There are a few things that I could have done better. But the man was stunned. And I had not had to show off too many spells. It was straddling that line. Where I knew what alterations would be needed to kill someone, That was a scary point to stand for someone as young as I was. When I knew that I, without a doubt could remove someones life force from this planet.

It was not a great day. But a bigger rush power I have never felt as that day.” ~ Zerxes, The legendary Necromancer

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2015-01-19 4076 words, 67.93WPM 21.59% typo

4076 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 67.93! Error rate: 21.59 %

“I could see the face he was making. There were no real reason behind them. The eyes simply glowed and dripped with anger and poison respectively. Thereafter the man looked at me through his hatred-laden eyes. There were nothing like that in my heart. However the sword that he had brought suddenly made more sense. It was made to make the most disturbance in the magical fields. And that would be why the judges allowed no limits. They thought I would not be able to do magic.

Well, Time to show them wrong. I didn’t sidestep the storm, though. Like I should have. It still hurt my senses. Magic rushing past to someone sensitive to magic hurt enough. I stilled my mind. Listened to and focused on the slight shifts in air pressure. We were no more than an arms length away now. Though he towered over me. So his reach was further away than this. This was my strength.

I could calculate his reach and would do so intensely. There would be nothing that he would be able to do without his reach. So I made it difficult to see and sense me. His abilities seemed to be well enough defined. I could sense him moving after me. Even with silence spells on. There was a sudden draft, and I felt that he had attempted to hit me with the draft. Closing my eyes did a lot to imunize me to his attacks. That was what I had to get through to my head. I would win.

I should win, There was no question that I would win. That was my determination. I would win there was no question. There was something that I could not get out of my head. There was something looking like a strong and angry man floating above my head. At the next, even more violent thrust and disruption, I started dragging magic forth from the leylines that creped below this school. The leyline leaked magic out in to our world. That was how the theory went. Looking back, I could think that.

Or the more interesting theory that the leylines are actually the blood-vessels of the planet. That was something I would have to investigate some other time. Some time I was not fighting a magical swordsman, by using magic, with my eyes closed.” ~ Zerxes, the legendary Necromancer

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2015-01-17 4516 words, 75.27WPM 22.19% typo

4516 words in 60 minutes making the WPM:75.27! Error rate: 22.19 %

“86400 That’s the amount of seconds that you have to work with in a day. There are so many things you can do with these seconds. There are so many people that spend their seconds unwisely. Sure, entertaining yourself is good and all. However, there has to be with moderation. Myself, I dedicate one hour, that is 3600 seconds every day to make the most out of my writing career.

Well, more like I dedicated that time to actual writing. I am getting at my own heart through the writing.

You have an account in a bank all humans go to. This bank account refills each day. You have a balance of 86400.

It is non-refundable, non non-transferable. You have this, it is yours. Every single day.

These seconds, that you have. These hours that you have. What do you do with them? No, that is a real question. Start thinking about that. Sure. It hurts? Sure, you are uncomfortable with those hours spent in front of the television or whatever timesink you have.

This is all your choice. No matter if you realise or not. It is something that you have chosen to do. One day, then the next, because I mean. It’s just what you do when you get home from work. Maybe the routine has grown to include a beer or two. To relax” you say to yourself. And yes, you are relaxed. But can’t you relax in a way that makes you get good at something and benefits from it?

Yeah, there are games that will train your focus,. there are books that will allow you to keep an iron heard focus for hour. There are movies you are unable to look away from. Our attentions have been divided. I’ve been a proponent of letting the world sail it’s own seas for some time. It is something that one will have to learn if you want to do something for an expanse of time.- If it is something huge. Like write a book, may be several. You lack something if you come from the TV-sofa. ” ~ Me on thoughts to refine for a blog-post


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2015-01-16 4492 words, 74.87WPM 23.31% typo

4492 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 74.87! Error rate: 23.31 %

“This was a strange practice. And i had only just gotten ready for it when the ores started arriving. We had fired up the forge. Using the forgefire, that Lord Rage had taught me. From the little orb filled with magic that he had given me, we could run Forgefire for a long time. It was something that I was getting used to as the first ore of spiritite was lain into the forge. Melting nearly instantly. We had started to pour more into the process. It was exciting to me I had never done this before!

The process of melting ore that had not already been processed. The man that was my guide here, made the motions that were required of a smith. Master smiths at that. However, the power he drew was not proportional to the spells he cast. They were hundreds of small spells. I could feel him drawing power from the lump he had been and was still holding in his hand. I started casting my own spells. The man was not a proper magician. Though he was not doing anything but layering a lot of minor spells.

As the lumps of spiritite was melting under the heat, i was starting to weave the spells that I found to be working in a stable manner into the molten metal. Some of them suddenly snapped into existence.

I could feel the smithy started twitching muscles around. And a hammer was lifted, tongs were getting ready to pick out the moulded bar of the terrible metal. The material was already soft enough to be plied. And there would be something of a strange cosy feel to the heat; the feel one gets through the use of materials that were and are all too powerful for ones own good.

I looked at the smithy’s body, the spirited man, his body was sitting peacefully on the floor. The man had his arms crossed. And the power that flowed through the rock that was the first sample of pacified spiritite. It poured power into that human form.

We started pounding the metal. I could feel tool-assisting spells, layer themselves around my arms. There were a particular song apparently that the smithy would sing when he made his best works. So many things were getting done at the same time that i could not properly gauge the effects of all of them. I had started melding one of the strange ideas that I had through the lump of material as we were making the next bar of the material. Most of my swords were there. In those two bars. However my subjects had started getting a lot of the ore at the same time.

They had found an interest in the form of mining and mined so much that i would be able to make braces form the same material. And the smithy was getting annoyed as we got the fifth, and sixth bar. There was soon a veritable mountain of ready made bars, that were soft pliable, and ready for more work. It ended with us starting on the swords, and starring on an armour. I was most fond of armours made from hundreds of scales. Those gave a lot of mobility. Which was something i was used to work with, and a lot of protection over other constructed armours. The smithy agreed that this would be one of the more fitting ones for my uses. For the tourney we made the swords. And they were marvels.

I am sure we had been folding that material for thousands of times. From time to time melting inn some sand. Forming little orbs of glass inside the swords. Along the spine of the swords, there formed orbs of glass. Some kind of special glass that the smithy would not answer me about. At the very last moment, the small glass orbs were inserted. Their spells took immediately. The spells inside them started folding out om into the spines of the swords, and the little orbs the good blacksmith had inserted.

The result were grey swords, that were unbreakable. The finish was not yet done. And that is when the swords really started to shine. The swords had cracks running along the edges. Though not more than visible. The cracks shone through. Light that came through those cracks. A dull, but at the same time strong blue light. The light was harsh to look directly at, but through the side of your eyes, or a glass pane.. It was alright.” ~ Zerxes, the Legendary necromancer

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2015-01-15 4019 words, 65.89WPM 21% typo

4019 words in 61 minutes making the WPM:65.89! Error rate: 21.82 %

“I ventured to a blacksmith’s and tested out the different sword-shapes they had. And found some things. And asked a lot of things. He recommended that I took something other than a dual-sword approach. There were more effective manners of protecting oneself. However, I was prepared for most of his answers, I challenged him to a friendly duel using some training swords.

The interesting part was that every time he was getting close to hitting me. There was a sword in the way, parrying or redirecting his sword. And a couple of times, there was one sword that was busy with his sword hand, and one that was underneath his shield. Tapping the ribcage where his heart would have been.

“I sense no magic coming from you. However, that style, I have never seen it. It’s like you walk straight past my defences. I’ve seen my fair amount of party tricks, but I can see how that would work in the battlefield. And with a little bit of magic, I could even see you working for some Lord as their bodyguard. And that is coming from someone that has been making swords most of my life after being in the army.

The man was quite surprised, I could sense it in the way he focused his defences. It was like there was something that worked through the air. I sensed the attack before it came. Vicious attacks, some with the rim of the shield. And then, before it was really getting started. He had the sword to my neck, it was not properly deflected, and I had to work an evasive spell, the sword flowed through my skin, and I’d not been visibly marked.

“Wow” That was something I had never had to resort to. I hadn’t thought of this until now. “I learn a lot more here than at school” I stated flatly. I was as surprised by the mechanism that I had invented. “That’s an interesting way of fighting that I had not considered until now. Mentally looking through the patterns that were getting to me. I could see the paths the man had taken to get me there. They were tricky to advance against, however I was going to use magic.

He had not, but this was a way of fighting that was especially designed to fight against it. “Will you allow me the use of magic in this sparring match, it seems you are already prepared for it?”

The man nodded shortly.

” ~ Zerxes the legendary Necromancer

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2015-01-14 4500 words, 75WPM 22% typo

4500 words in 60 minutes making the WPM: 75! Error rate: 22.07 %

“However there were also a bunch of people that were perusing. A Vampyre, and a human of around the same age was something that caught the readers’ attention. Like worms on the ground in front of ten hawks. They all followed us with their eyes. Something told me to turn around to Amanda. She looked me in my eyes, confusion in her face.

I bent down. She was even more confused now. Kissing her lightly on her lips. The spectators went back to whatever they were doing before noticing us, too embarrassed by the moment. Leaving us time to get out.” ~ Zerxes

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I’m a writer: 2014 in review.

It’s that time of the year again. The time where we all look to each other, smile, and say everything is fine.

For me everything is fine. Sure, I could need a job. Sure, a partner would be splendid.  But all in all, I am fine. I live in a “first world country” if you follow that classification system. Lucky that I was born here, on this particular patch of this planet we live on.

I like to think that I am a man who has little to say, and a lot to show. However this last part of the year has shown me that it is actually somewhat the opposite. I wrote 342k words in the last 128 days of the year 2014 that’s 342 000 words. This is all thanks to Jeff Goins‘ My 500 Words-initiative.

Most of those words were spent on the Bookverse I am working on.  It is a fantasy/scifi multiverse, that has daemons, gods, a bunch of “pure-blooded humanoids”, Man, and a multitude of crossbreds that the kinky nature of man truly can appreciate.

There is magic, laws and rules to that magic that are as different for every culture that taste-buds are to us. Cults that make you cringe with their horrid thoughts and practices.  There are strange phenomena, classes of magic that boggle the mind, and mages and wizards that make your skin crawl.

All in all, I am looking forwards to writing more in this bookverse, and maybe, just maybe, get a few books out of it; Perhaps bringing more writers into it.

Looking forward to new opportunities, new characters to write about, new friends to make, and last but not least: A new year!

Lastly, I want to thank a bunch of people for kind words, a great community, and a little kick in the bum when that was needed: My 500 Words

If you got all the way down here, I thank you for your time. And hope that you got at least something out of my rambling 😉

100 Days of writing

love,   #171 in explore !

ashley rose, via Compfight

227 241 Words later

Hello there. Yesterday, I ended up hitting a milestone. I have been writing with focused writing for a hundred days.

I want to start out with a couple of statistics because I love me some stats.

When I first started out, for the first month my goal was a minimum of writing 500 words per day. This made me most days write between 500 and 1000. Some days I went above 1000, but that wasn’t often, I think there are six or so.

After my first month, I upped the ante, by adding a target that would slowly increment. It will round to the nearest 500 upwards. I would spend somewhere between 25 minutes and 50 minutes to write those 1000 words.

NaNoWriMo was coming up, I decided I wanted some training in the increased workloads of the NaNo month… So I increased my own minimum target to 1500.

At this point in time, I knew that I would beat NaNo

The first of November was here, NaNoWriMo was in! I decided to go for 2k words per day. This would bring me well into the 50 k that was required.

Two days passed, and I was inspired. I decided to go for 100k words instead of the regular 50k words. Therefore, I would need to write at least 3334 words. This had me write 3402 words the third, and 3885 words on the fourth. I had decided to simply double my previous word-count. I was aiming for 4000 words per day.

Thanks to my at this time around sixty days of experience with focused writing, I KNEW already on the third that I would manage to get 100k within the months end. To me NaNoWriMo was an excuse to be a little more focused on my writing. Therefore, I allowed myself to be even less social than what I usually had been.

The first half of my month writing on this novel was spent in the WPM-ranges of 31-37, this was a rather good improvement upon the previous speeds I had had when I started.

During the time up to the thirteenth, I had heard a couple of murmurs about a site called It was apparently a writing aid. This one site skipped my writing speed 9 words per minute up.

This happened overnight. Three days of practice later, and I would not under normal circumstances go below 50 WPM. There was this one time, where I was on vacation, and had forgotten to write before I left, so I wrote in the car. Yeah, that day I had a WPM of 25. All other days, the WPM kept in the higher scale of 50 (55->60).

There is a downside with, well to me at least for now. My fingers have still not caught up with my brain. While they can type at 60WPM, they have still had problems actually hitting the right keys. So from time to time (about 10% of the time) it hits a second or third key. This makes it a chore to spell check. Which one should do straight after getting done with the writing.

During NaNoWriMo I was called crazy multiple times, I even called myself crazy, so I could make jokes about the speed at which I wrote, and how many words I required of myself.

During NaNoWriMo, I wrote 141 000 words. That’s 41000 words more than I had planned to write. What did I do? I started writing on another story that is set in the same bookverse. I decided to add this story to my NaNoWriMo book.

Have I learned something from all this writing? Yeah.

  1. The faster your writing is, the more will you write. If I like I want to, can get my WPM up to 120, I will be writing at 7200 words per hour. This is a lot of words. And will assist on my ultimate goal (Breaking a NaNo event by having over 999 999 words to submit without cheating).
  2. Until your fingers grab themselves enough accuracy to hit the letters they were meant to hit, you will get typos (And that is fine).
  3. Even if it is not fun, even if you do not want to write, write. In the end this also makes experience, you are not practicing at optimal condition. However, you are practicing.

I learned that the system is key.

Detach yourself from the goal (I did that, since I knew I would get the goal by the end, there was no pressure), and trust that your system will bring you there.


Is it poetry? Part of a song?  A euphemism?
1598Creative Commons License Ian Sane via Compfight


Concept in writing describing the entirety of the known and unknown parts of the universe/multi-verse in a book or series of books.


Is there really a need for a new descriptive?

I think so. While “setting” is a pretty decent descriptive, it carries with it some connections to role playing. Which while some books has it (choose your own adventure books and such) you might not find that in a book.


Why Bookverse?

Universe does not fit the profile as there are books that contain many worlds, that exist in the same place or in different times.

Multi-verse doesn’t quite cut it, as some books only describe one universe. Multi-verse could be used to describe only one universe though, so it makes sense to use multi-verse over universe.

Setting is used to describe a place, and a set of rules that apply to that place. This is the closest I have found to a good descriptive. Widely used in the role playing world.

20 Days, 100 000 words NaNoWriMo report

I just verified my novel with National Novel Writing Month and they told me I am a


I knew when starting NaNoWriMo that I would be a winner. It was not that I was ambitious. It was that I started out with a lot of data.

I KNEW that in the last two months, I had written 72013 words. Statistics make life more boring. However they do wonders for motivation.

That is what I learned from NaNoWriMo. What my previous track record showed me was that I would not only be guaranteed a NaNoWriMo victory. I could go further.

Which is what I did day 3. The third of November I decided to go for 100 000 words as my national novel writing month goal. I was inspired by two of my NaNo buddies, Jason Cantrell, and tiakall.

Their rapid progress made me think it possible to go for 100k. It was exciting. And a little bit scary. Could I do that? “Yep.” That’s the statistician within me. “Easy” my inner writer told me.

As writing got on, the first week went by, I’d caught up to my own par. The second week, I wrote a little more than 3334 words a day (4000), this pushed me ahead of the par.

The end of second week, I was challenged by one of my Facebook friends to write 10 000 words. So I wrote 11 000. This made me see an interesting thing. If I wrote 7400 words a day, I would reach 100k by the date you can validate!

7400 words a day, was split up into two 3.3k words 1 hour sessions.  That doesn’t exactly make up 7400, in fact it doesn’t equate that at all! That said, my “week” went by as following: 4166, 6465, 6731, 7904, 6969

Total 32,235. Why write slightly above my daily minimum (4k) the first day? That day was a hard day to write. I had just written 11 thousand words in a day. It was a hard day to continue writing, but I did nonetheless.

Will I continue writing on my NaNoWriMo novel? Yeah, there are a few things I need to set up to make sure the novel is ready to go. (I need an ending that makes people want to read more, and I have one in mind)

Would I continue working on the novel? Yes, there are 43k words (Last 7 days, I was using, which is an ultra-minimalistic writing site.. Which spiked my WPM, however introduced 4-8% typoes…) I also need to make the story actually work. I had a story planned out. I had some setbacks (for the characters), and some issues the characters would work through.

However I felt things went too easy on them. Sure, the main character had a couple of mental breakdowns. But they were mostly outside his control. And he worked through them quickly to get back to the real world. As he did, he gained great powers. I have the sense that I have to get rid of some of that power. On the plus side, I am trying to write it as if we are reading his journals which is an interesting exercise.

This will tie up with another novel I am planning to write. Where the Main Character picks up this guys Journals and turns to a page at random. No, I do not at all want so fleshed out a bookverse that I can literally pick up the journals of important characters in the past and excerpt pieces in later books… (Yes, that was sarcasm. I do want this, which makes this NaNoWriMo more for the exercise of chunking up my writing into pieces called novels.)

Moral of the story? If you want to be able to write 100k+ words in 20 days you have to have some sort of plan. It can be as easy as a setting, some interesting characters and a zombie apocalypse, but I prefer something grander, something so huge, that it would take many 100k+ books to describe just a small skim of the possible stories.

National Novel Writing Month Week Two

Royal KMG c. 1951, aka "The Beast"Creative Commons License mpclemens via Compfight

That crazy thing I mentioned last week? Still doing it. This week I wrote a total of 34 THOUSAND words. Yeah, I nearly finished a NaNoWriMo just this week. I think next year I will have to finish one novel project each week. Or maybe I will be doing crazy things like single-day novels. It’s been done before. I don’t know yet.

The thing that annoys me is that they are still sitting in my adaptation-folder, I’ve started writing at the speed of 47 WPM. At that speed I have to settle with getting 90% of the words right. That said, it’s still a lot of corrections. Some places I even forget what the spacebar is for. Let me show you the worst example I found of the spacebar being missing.

This was the first day I tried out the website called it is what bumped me from ~36 words per minute to 46-48 words per minute. (It forces me to finish my word count, which I for some stupid reason set to 5500 before it allows me to edit!)

Date  |  Words  |  Minutes  | WPM



What happened? I discovered


189 is a website with an ultra-minimalistic view on writing. 1: Select wished for word-count (I go for 5500, which I can reasonably reach in 2 hours)

Then write. All you see is this one letter. That one letter is what you have to regret. All your regrets are lain out in that one letter. Why? Because you don’t get to fix your faults before you have finished written your 5500 words.

Why is this great? There is this thing, you might have experienced it. A slightly highly DISTURBING voice in the back of your mind… “No, you can’t write that, you have to write it like this”, “Nothing is spelled slelling, it’s spelled selling”, “No, don’t put that comma there. Put it over here in stead! See, much better”

I HAVE. I wrote in an earlier blog post about blocking out disturbances. This “editor” is one of those disturbances. Will my texts have more faults? Yep, as I showed you above, they will.

Want to see how ~12k words look to me?



82th day for me today, of Jeff Goins’ “My 500 Words” our total count today ends up at

139954 words

How does that NaNoWriMo chart look?


Today felt a lot different than other days, I completed a challenge offered by Linzé Brandon over at the “My 500 Goes to NaNo”-group on facebook. It’s a sort of private group for people participating in both My 500 and NaNoWriMo. It’s been a blast! I’m out.

Pizza allures. I might even upload the pizza to my twitter!



National Novel Writing Month week One

writing like the windCreative Commons License Anne-Lise Heinrichs via Compfight
Hi, I’ve been doing something crazy these last 10 days.  I’ve subjected myself to the stress of agreeing to write a novel in November.

Now, Full disclosure. I’ve been writing for the last 77 days. That’s every day for two and a half month. What started my writing journey was Jeff Goins’ “My 500 Words” which I was shown through his webinar “4 Steps to a daily writing habit“…

That’s 109169 words. Now, two of those days aren’t counted, but they’re without times, so I don’t care as much about them.

Anyways, enough about the combined writing experience. Time to talk about my experience with NaNoWriMo.


So yeah, what happened at day 3? You see… I thought about continuing towards 50 000 words… However after my first month of My 500, I decided to level up my experience, and added “Target Words Next Day” it’ll take the average, add 250, and round to the nearest 500.

It grew to 1500 the 17/10/2014 So I kept a word count 1500 or above all of the time. This means 14 days of 1500, deciding that 1500 was too low because 1667 is the goal, I decided to go for 2000 a day.

Day 3, I was inspired by Jason Cantrell and Tiakall to go for 100k, 2000 didn’t feel like a challenge at all. So, 3334 words a day, right? No. I set the goal for 4000 per day.

My average writing speed during nanowrimo is 35.21, this means that it takes me about two hours to write the daily 4k words.

So far, NaNoWriMo hasn’t been much different from regular days, aside from doubling my needed daily word-count, it’s fine. My desktop is a rather supportive setup, so the places I am stressed is my fingers, and the brain. (gotta have something happen, right?)

I find it a bit interesting that most of the marketing devised for the people participating in nanowrimo misses the mark on me :3 (I’m currently writing in my bookverse, which to be frank can be called epic)


I don’t have that much to say really.

GIT (the source code revision system) – Pt 1/2

MS-DOS Blue Horizontal Kjetil Korslien via Compfight

I made a composite post detailing the tools I use when writing. I found that the post might intimidate some, so I’ve decided to split it into two posts so that I do not scare people.

This will be the GIT part, for those of you that are interested in the more advanced tools I use. I apologize if you feel like this is only copy-pasting (It’s true though)

I’ve been a writer for some time. Though I’ve never actually thought of “programmer” as a writer.

This is where I get one of my most favoured tools. GIT. It’s a revision system, which is meant for coders. It is meant to keep track of all the changes multiple coders do. And to let them revise their code while at all manner of places in the world. This is something it does magnificently. It has a bit of a learning curve to “un-initiated” folks. It took me some time to grasp it. With the help of Tortoise-GIT, a guide, and some patience I learned to use it.

GIT sort of laid there, I tried using it to keep track of my Scrivener projects, but scrivener apparently manages it’s sources strangely (read in .rtf-documents in stead of the vastly superior .html document standard) Anyways, GIT was confused.

So I let GIT stay away from my writing projects. Then I stopped using scrivener. Don’t know what stopped me from using it. I’m definitely going back, when I have to edit something. To me it wasn’t as much a writing tool as an organizing tool.

Now, to the meat of the cool things the toolset I use today can do. I write something with Q10, save it to my folder. Then right click, opening up a context menu in that folder. Then press commit. After that, you get another dialog. In which I press push. What this does is send the files to a service (in my case) called bitbucket.Context sensitive dialogCommit dialog (shows changes)Dialog you get after a commit is successfulDialog that comes before pushing to the serverHistory dialog (shows every commit, local to the machine you are working on)

What they do is host what is called code repositories. A repository of code usually, but what then happens is that I can sync it to my laptop. Which I can bring everywhere.

Bitbucket display of pushed commits

Distractionless writing – Pt 2/2

Just Sit And Relax!Creative Commons License Youssef Hanna via Compfight

What is the best way to get things done?

Reduce distractions. 

I wrote a composite post, containing the tools I use for my craft. I later realized that the post might intimidate people who had no interest for the GIT source code revision tool.

Thus in this post I rip the writing tools away from the GIT tool. (hopefully to relieve some distractions ;))

I’d discovered Q10 before, a writing program for windows by the Spanish writer Joaquín Bernal. It’s a distraction-less writing program, it deals in one filetype. UTF8 .txt-files. Which is great, allows me to write in my native language using strange contraptions like å, ø, and æ. Beside not wanting to sully my writing with Norwegian, I find that a nice feature.Q10

Another program that I had my eyes on during a similar writing-bout period was Writemonkey, which lends a few ideas from (or to) Q10, it has a less wide writing field (estetically) than Q10, but it certainly also lets distractions go away.WritemonkeyI ended up using Q10 for longer writing sessions, Writemonkey starts up in a SCRATCH-document. Which feels more fleety than Q10s “I’ll put you right back in with the document you were writing on” way.

Q10 works in only one mode. FULLSCREEN. With Writemonkey  you can press escape, and it’ll be a smaller window.

That’s the end of our copypasta.


The very worst obstacle to productivity is distractions. Werther it’s an email, facebook popup, or your mom calling. It’s making you not work. Minimizing distractions works because logically you can actually work when uninterrupted.

For this reason alone I picked Q10 over Writemonkey. Q10 grabs your attention and shoves it into writing.

The next thing I take care of is audio.  An enclosed headset, with soothing lyric-less rythms, either or

Both of those work well for me. I’m not saying they’re perfect, but they’re awesome. And they work for me. (which is the main reason I work with those)

50 days, 43000 words later.

(picture from Marc via Compfight)

What happens when you write something 50 out of 50 days?

The Beginning

At first I wrote 500 words a day, then something changed. I made a spreadsheet that noted my progress. (you can download a clear one at here) Since the third day, I started taking minute counts, to make “Words Per  Minute”-measurements. At first my cruising speed was 18.35WPM I’d had two days below 10, where they were 9 and 7. This was before I started taking breaks.

I believe both days were times I had real troubles writing my required 500. I learned a couple of coping mechanisms, taking breaks if things move along too slowly, write on completely different pieces (A journal entry, or blog post, Et. Cetra),  and last but not least: Get rid of distractions. That application constantly bothering you to go update something? Kill it, just murder it.

Isolate yourself from the world. I found music without actual or lots of speech works really well. I’ve come to love FlicFlac for this. If this is not your musical can of worms, that’s fine the main thing is that you’re not supposed to sing along in your head. Anything carrying energy away from getting those words down is your enemy.

Statistics and how they helped

The maths for getting words per minute is really simple, Words/Minutes. That’s it, at day 3 in the challenge I was putting down a timestamp when I started, and another one when I ended. Along with word counts for each. Later on I started writing required word count just to make it simpler to remember when it was okay to quit.

Later on (day 10-20 of the challenge) I wrote a Google Docs SpreadSheet, and after filling in that with the data collected, I saw room for improvement. The spreadsheet gives you an idea of how fast you are writing. In the beginning it helped getting to see patterns. Like how I would work far less efficiently with distractions.

If I felt that I’d written myself into a slump I would stop the time, and take a break. Getting back to writing was then easier than before. This I think resulted in gaining faster WPMs overall,  I’d quickly grown to be above the previous cruising speed. Well, quickly is overstating it I think. But rather quick I would say.

My current WPM is 21.6 and with me learning touch typing, I am expecting that to increase lots faster once I actually end up “getting” it.

The best WPM I have had until now 38 (that’s 22 away from writing one word PER SECOND) and was obtained through a headset with accompanying music, my glasses off, so I couldn’t see typing errors, other than the most grave ones, and the no-pressure of writing a freeform (no plan) entry for my bookverse. There I am writing my heart into a textual form. There needs not be corrected words. It is not that important.  So yeah, moral of the high-wpm: Ignore the world, don’t edit, and write whatever lets you write whatever your most unobstructed thoughts say.

One of the things I’ve always struggled with, when doing things like these is motivation, while not on the OCD-level (I am not forced by my brain to fix things) having a 49 day streak on Lift.Do does help me keep motivated. That and statistics I’d have to write zero on if I didn’t do it one day. (Which would make the next few days easier, but it would be hurting me on the inside. For no other reason that I could’ve been better.)

Late days, and how to deal with them

When I write, I write for a specific day. (At least with the My 500 Words Challenge) To me as long as I haven’t slept yet that day, I am fine. That said, I won’t stretch it longer than a few hours across the border of that date. Technically, a day is 48 hours long because of timezones, so there is a lot of leeway here. But I don’t want to be “catching” up on writing. That’s a situation I don’t ever want to be in.

I’ve now written enough words to satisfy the My 500 Words Challenge, I won’t go tick it. I could. But I’ve not timed it, and I haven’t gotten to 1000 words.

PS: I’ve written not counting these words: 1167 words, over a time of 48 minutes, which I found that the revisioning tool of my blog actually kept accounts of. Fancy. So I lied to you earlier. I will be ticking that box. 

How 500 turned into 1000 and with time will turn into 2000
Rather quickly with the statistics document, I started adding small tidbits of information based on some math acrobatics with the gathered statistics. Average WPM (Above this is a personal goal on every daily assignment), Average Words Per Day (became the basis of the daily target), Highest WPM (reach for above this), Lowest WPM (Never let this become lower.), Total Words Written, Target Words Next Day, Days Counted, Average Minutes Spent

This segment is for the Target Words Next Day, with this I wanted to make sure the average words per day always went up. If not quickly, at least surely. I might not be able to directly control my WPM, but I can control how many words I am satisfied with. The current formula is: Round to the nearest 500 Average Words Per Day+250. This will make sure that my target is ALWAYS above the current average.

Making it slowly crawl upwards.

Going Forwards

It is my goal to always improve my statistics, by slowly increasing the amount of writing, I will be giving myself a stamina-boost over time. But it’ll be so gradual that the WPM-speed should be increasing with it. Making me able to write more in less over time. And I am talking about by day maybe 100. As it is I have added Touch Typing to my scheduled enhancements. (I might increase the Target of the day to WordsPerDay+500 to get a faster increment in daily words required. If I am to reach the 1333 goal for nanowrimo… Alternatively, I could just ignore the target in the spreadsheet and write with the nanowrimo goal in stead. I kinda like that idea better, it would force the wpd up, at a slightly faster rate.)

Looking forwards to actually making real headway with that. As it is, I am doing somewhat similar things to what touch typing wants you to do. While there are no “proper” spots for my current writing technique, it has been serving me up until now. But I am in need of something faster, and I’ve heard that touch typing can help.

That said, I’ve looked into the dvorak keyboard style before, when doing research for keyboards to buy. I might end up on one someday, but for now,  I can do well enough with the tools that are at my disposal. For where I live, money does not yet grow on trees. And a rent one has to pay.

I do intend to partake in Nanowrimo. I mean, it’s the natural step forward from the “My 500 Words Challenge” especially when I already write at 1000 Words Per Day :3

How about it? Do you want to write 43000 words? (A novel) Try the My 500 Words Challenge today.  ~ Tweet this?

The tools of my craft

I’ve been a writer for some time. Though I’ve never actually thought of “programmer” as a writer.

This is where I get one of my most favoured tools. GIT. It’s a revision system, which is meant for coders. It is meant to keep track of all the changes multiple coders do. And to let them revise their code while at all manner of places in the world. This is something it does magnificently. It has a bit of a learning curve to “un-initiated” folks. It took me some time to grasp it. With the help of Tortoise-GIT, a guide, and some patience I learned to use it.

GIT sort of laid there, I tried using it to keep track of my Scrivener projects, but scrivener apparently manages it’s sources strangely (read in .rtf-documents in stead of the vastly superior .html document standard) Anyways, GIT was confused.

So I let GIT stay away from my writing projects. Then I stopped using scrivener. Don’t know what stopped me from using it. I’m definitely going back, when I have to edit something. To me it wasn’t as much a writing tool as an organizing tool.

I’d discovered Q10 before, a writing program for windows by the Spanish writer Joaquín Bernal. It’s a distraction-less writing program, it deals in one filetype. UTF8 .txt-files. Which is great, allows me to write in my native language using strange contraptions like å, ø, and æ. Beside not wanting to sully my writing with Norwegian, I find that a nice feature.Q10

Another program that I had my eyes on during a similar writing-bout period was Writemonkey, which lends a few ideas from (or to) Q10, it has a less wide writing field (estetically) than Q10, but it certainly also lets distractions go away.Writemonkey

Now, to the meat of the cool things the toolset I use today can do. I write something with Q10, save it to my folder. Then right click, opening up a context menu in that folder. Then press commit. After that, you get another dialog. In which I press push. What this does is send the files to a service (in my case) called bitbucket.Context sensitive dialogCommit dialog (shows changes)Dialog you get after a commit is successfulDialog that comes before pushing to the serverHistory dialog (shows every commit, local to the machine you are working on)

What they do is host what is called code repositories. A repository of code usually, but what then happens is that I can sync it to my laptop. Which I can bring everywhere.

Bitbucket display of pushed commits

If you’re wondering how I calculate Words Per Minute, that’s simple, I open a notepad, hit Shift+F5 (regular notepad I think it’s just F5), to mark a starting time. If it’s a document I’ve written in before, I mark the word count.


Making the calculation in this case: (123-90) / (01:49 04/10/2014-01:50 04/10/2014 )  to find the time, in this case, 1 minute go to enter that into the equation: (123-90) / 1. Then resolve the first parentheses, to get how many words you wrote this day: 33, which lets you go with a WPM equation of 33/1… 33 WPM 😉

Alternatively, use the last tool I mention, the excel document you can download and use on your own imported to excel, or Google drive 🙂 If I have a target, I’ll indent it to end on the same line as the result would be written upon… 120


GIT automatically does something called hashing, of the data. The thing about that is that GIT does this to make sure the contents are the same no matter where they are downloaded to. This means that if I keep the Hash-code somewhere, I can be sure that the data I have hasn’t been tampered with. (by matching the hash-code I keep with one of the repository I have with me on the laptop, or at home)

(Not that I expect someone to go have fun with me, but corruption happens in most disks over time.)

Another tool I have, which I developed lately is: It’s a tracking tool. Made to let me easily know where I am at, and how to improve.
“Target Words Next Day” rounds upwards, to the nearest 250 words which means that to new 500-word challengees, it’ll say 750. This is because I like to challenge myself, and I want my average words per day to go up, as well as average WPM, and the way to get both of those better is by continued improvement.

Stretching the amount of words written makes me write MORE, which is a goal of mine as well as improving writing speed, and length. For now, that is all. I’ll write more on this post when I’ve got the energy.

PS: (584-90)/22 WPM (22.45) 🙂
PPS: If I feel like it, I’ll add pictures to the steps.