SHIT, I mean, ‘Crap.’

I am writing a book.

It’s a bit of a Frankenbook.

It has faeries AND vampires.

Its target audience is adults who like to read Young Adult fiction. So, people who grew up with Harry Potter but wish it weren’t, erm, WRONG to have a crush on the protagonist.

So, I’m wondering, given the target audience is adult, but the style is Young Adult, and it could plausibly be read by a YA audience…

CAN I USE FUCK?

Advertisements

Arch Nemesis.

Scene 1.

A restaurant.

Our hero, CARNIVORE, sits at a large table of ten or so people who chat quietly, waiting for the first course of their set-menu banquet to appear . He is focussed intensely on something on the table in front of him. The light shift, revealing a bowl of salad.

CARNIVORE: Alright, Lettuce. I don’t like you and you don’t like me, but you’re the only thing here, so let’s get it on.

Blackout.

The bottomless money-pit.

I don’t think I’d like to have a bottomless money-pit.

If I put all my money in a bottomless pit, it would all fall out in north-western Turkey, or somewhere thereabouts.

Actually, if I dropped all my money in a bottomless pit, the antipodes of which would be somewhere in north-western Turkey, it would probably burst forth on the other side of the world and then, due to the effects of gravity, it would shoot back through the earth and burst forth here. Then, once more due to gravity, it would shoot back through the earth. Of course, this time it wouldn’t burst forth, but reach a point somewhere underneath north-western Turkey and then, due to the effects of gravity, start hurtling back in this direction. This would carry on, my money shooting back and forth along an ever diminishing segment of the diameter of the earth, until, due to the effects of gravity, it reached an equilibrium and stopped. And then my money would be stuck in the middle of the earth.

This is assuming my money were heat-proof and didn’t just melt once it got to a certain really-hot-bit somewhere on its way to the centre of the earth.

Either way, I don’t think throwing my money in a bottomless pit is a good idea.

The right to write.

After a rather intense argument with a complete stranger about what I am and am not allowed to write (apparently comedic flashfiction/microfic is patented… my bad) I have decided to start a blog.

This blog will not, for the most part, be comprised of flash/microfic (although some may sneak in, but you mightn’t detect it, so stealth it will be). I will simply observe. From the bus. From my car. From my front window. From my seat in the theatre or the cinema.

I call it ‘Cyberlit Stand-Up’ and it will often not live up to its name. Often, it will not be anything deserving of the nomenclature ‘literature’, and whether or not it is funny is a matter of taste.

But with any luck, at some point, one of you will read my word-doodle and chuckle and say “it’s funny coz it’s TRUE!” and then, most likely, return to Facebook and forget you ever read it.

Much love,

The Culture Sniper.