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A discussion of all things Thursday !
Ducking out
Posted by: poetscientistdrinker (---.cache.pol.co.uk)
Date: October 27, 2002 09:08PM
<HTML>"Ben's eyes narrowed as he scanned the wind blasted Vale of Evesham. He knew his prey was out there, somewhere, taunting him. He always had the feeling that if it wasn't for the damn fiction that they could have almost been friends, but the fiction had no respect of people, only of characters. Another chunk of literature flew past somewhere above his head, and instinctively he reached for his pen to return fire.
It had all seemed so simple, when he started. The targets were easy, unprepared. It was easy to single them out, find your references and take them off. Now the job was all about huge treks across miles of text, false endings, missions deep into enemy lines, all the plotting and lost friends. He hadn't signed up for this.
He remembered when he first signed up. August 2002. It was just curiosity that took him along. A desire to see what would happen in the heat of battle. He discovered a minor talent for it. The furious heat of a dancing pen caught his imagination, and his keyboard-calloused fingers gave him command of the field of type. It would all be over by Christmas, was the claim, and he had laughed at them. now it seemed like it could be true.
His body of fiction was becoming weaker. The doctors were mystified. Ben had faced many dangers. He had walked through the valley of the shadow of Mills and Boon. He had survived the ill fated overdue book charges of the light fiction section of the library. In the battle of the DIY books he had been decorated; although after the cock-up that left them referenced in the same section of the library as home brewing, he had ended up plastered and legless. It was a stain on his carpet he might never shift, but now he had a new enemy eating away at him.
He had seen the doctors, and read the textbooks. It was clear - at some stage, deep within him, a dark cancer had taken root. The symptoms were clear. Ben had advanced cliche...
It appeared to be a strain caught from @#$%& foreign holidays and the fiction that pervaded airports. Exposed to a range of parasites from Clancy to Cooper, his defences were overwhelmed. Now his own body had turned against him, rotting his mind. It was only a matter of time before he descended to the level of Holt, but first, he had a battle to attend to..."
Catch the exciting new installment of the Ben Tymens parody, exclusive to the Fforum! Will he ever catch up with his nemesis, Jon? Will cliche claim Ben before he can write something worthwhile, or can he overcome the odds to produce some literature? Can he claim the love of the girl of his dreams? And does anybody really give a toss about this kind of thing?
Find out - only on the Fforum.</HTML>
It had all seemed so simple, when he started. The targets were easy, unprepared. It was easy to single them out, find your references and take them off. Now the job was all about huge treks across miles of text, false endings, missions deep into enemy lines, all the plotting and lost friends. He hadn't signed up for this.
He remembered when he first signed up. August 2002. It was just curiosity that took him along. A desire to see what would happen in the heat of battle. He discovered a minor talent for it. The furious heat of a dancing pen caught his imagination, and his keyboard-calloused fingers gave him command of the field of type. It would all be over by Christmas, was the claim, and he had laughed at them. now it seemed like it could be true.
His body of fiction was becoming weaker. The doctors were mystified. Ben had faced many dangers. He had walked through the valley of the shadow of Mills and Boon. He had survived the ill fated overdue book charges of the light fiction section of the library. In the battle of the DIY books he had been decorated; although after the cock-up that left them referenced in the same section of the library as home brewing, he had ended up plastered and legless. It was a stain on his carpet he might never shift, but now he had a new enemy eating away at him.
He had seen the doctors, and read the textbooks. It was clear - at some stage, deep within him, a dark cancer had taken root. The symptoms were clear. Ben had advanced cliche...
It appeared to be a strain caught from @#$%& foreign holidays and the fiction that pervaded airports. Exposed to a range of parasites from Clancy to Cooper, his defences were overwhelmed. Now his own body had turned against him, rotting his mind. It was only a matter of time before he descended to the level of Holt, but first, he had a battle to attend to..."
Catch the exciting new installment of the Ben Tymens parody, exclusive to the Fforum! Will he ever catch up with his nemesis, Jon? Will cliche claim Ben before he can write something worthwhile, or can he overcome the odds to produce some literature? Can he claim the love of the girl of his dreams? And does anybody really give a toss about this kind of thing?
Find out - only on the Fforum.</HTML>
Re: Ducking out
Posted by: jon (---.abel.net.uk)
Date: October 28, 2002 09:15AM
<HTML>Proof yet agian that the Fforde Fforum IS the home of quality writing; where else can posts make people 'laugh like an incapable hyena' and 'laugh like a donkey' ....admittedly those were both Octavia, (and she complains about the folk next door....hmmm) but I'm sure others have experienced the same effect. But there is a problem. So far all the work has been done by Ben and I, and as you can see from our last two posts, it's taking it's toll. How about the rest of you? Unleash the inner writer within and join the fun, 'cos quite frankly we're knackered.
PS I dunno about nemesis....I preferred 'em before Peter Gabriel left.</HTML>
PS I dunno about nemesis....I preferred 'em before Peter Gabriel left.</HTML>
Re: Ducking out
Posted by: ScarletBea (148.177.129.---)
Date: October 28, 2002 09:29AM
<HTML>Ben, I told you before, I say it again, I LOVE IT!!!!!
*claps*
Jon, you're right, but I think the muse just stopped at you 2... I can create great stories, but they all remain locked inside my head lol
I'll try one of these days, although I can only see myself having some free time for it somewhere next summer *lol*</HTML>
*claps*
Jon, you're right, but I think the muse just stopped at you 2... I can create great stories, but they all remain locked inside my head lol
I'll try one of these days, although I can only see myself having some free time for it somewhere next summer *lol*</HTML>
Re: Ducking out
Posted by: poetscientistdrinker (---.cache.pol.co.uk)
Date: October 29, 2002 12:17AM
<HTML>Jon:
Nemesis? Are they related to the one that the two-headed, in-bred Phil Collins joined called 'Genetics?'</HTML>
Nemesis? Are they related to the one that the two-headed, in-bred Phil Collins joined called 'Genetics?'</HTML>
Re: Ducking out
Posted by: jon (---.abel.net.uk)
Date: October 29, 2002 09:31AM
<HTML>Anybody of my age-group and cultural tastes spits blood if forced to say the words Ph*l C*ll*ns. Ugh. Shudder. Extra large shudder with a side order of cheese. As a musical disaster C*llins taking over Genesis was second only to the plane crash that killed Buddy Holly and his mates.</HTML>
Re: Ducking out
Posted by: Ooktavia (---.nv.iinet.net.au)
Date: October 29, 2002 11:33AM
<HTML>Yes, but God has responded to your cries of grief. According to a reputable paper (The West Australian, no less) Mr PC will no longert be touring due to a permanent ringing in his ears and deafness expeirneced on stage. He says it's a sign God wants him to speand more time with his family at home, 'stead of dragging them out on tour.
And the music of Hubris sounds better........</HTML>
And the music of Hubris sounds better........</HTML>
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