15 August 2010
The new and improved official website of Hastang is now online. Nifty.
Exercises in creative writing.
The new and improved official website of Hastang is now online. Nifty.
We mourn the death of Sir Finardo Cabilao. We lost a man who worked hard everyday to improve the welfare of our society, especially in eradicating human trafficking in the country and in the world. Truly, the country could use someone like him -- a noble person and a tireless, brave crusader.
Here's an interesting website -- oneword.com. It provides a single word everyday and invites its visitors to write anything about that word in less than 60 seconds. It's quite a nifty way to exercise your chops, particularly in flash fiction and speed writing. You can read my entry here, under the pseudonym guileless. Fire away, folks.
Here's another dialogue-driven short story I wrote:
"Sure, sweetie. Grab some of that and put them on this tray. Then put mayo on top of each one. Don't pick the burned ones."
"Okay. So, what do you think?"
"About what, dear?"
"Come on, you know what I'm talking about."
"You mean, what do I think about that schmuck sitting on our dinner table back there?"
"Mom! He's a nice guy."
"You said the same thing about the last guy you brought here. And look what that jerk did."
"That was different. I was young then. I didn't know any better."
"And I supposed you're older and wiser now? Tell me, have you ever thought about what you're getting yourself into? I mean, just look at him! God, what will the neighbors think? And your Dad--how am I ever gonna tell him we raised a doofus with the worst taste in men in the universe?"
"Will you keep your voice down? He might hear you."
"I doubt it. Done with that? Get more from the fridge. And some mayo, too, this one's almost empty."
"Could you hand me that other tray? Thanks. Look, Mom, I know he doesn't look like it but he's a great guy. Once you get to know him, beneath all that arty stuff, you'll like him. I know you've got some kind of phobia about people with alternative means of livelihood, but believe me, this one's different. He's actually opening his own tattoo shop next summer."
"Oh, I'm absolutely jumping with joy hearing that."
"Mom, please, I could use a little support here. I'll deal with Dad but I need you on my side on this."
"Whatever. Here, you take that while I take this one. Careful with that."
"Wait. How do I look with this on?"
"Gotta hand it to you, though. His folks are filthy rich."
This originally appeared in I Am Paperbag.
My officemate Darlene is a graphic artist. On her free time, she creates artworks that she posts in iStockPhoto. One of these artworks is a nifty illustration of a tarsier perched on a bamboo tree.
It turned out that some guy (also a graphic artist) copied her illustration (or more specifically, traced her tarsier design without her permission) and subsequently used it in his official entry to a certain Company Logo and Brand Icon Contest held in Cagayan De Oro City. Unbelievably, he won a prize for his entry (Php 40,000 to be exact).
Not sitting idly, Darlene was able to contact the guy in order to demand an explanation and importantly, some artistic credit for her artwork. Unfortunately, the guy refused to give her due.
Now, I don't know the specific rules of the contest or how the judges weigh originality in the contest entries. And I'm sure he has his reasons for doing what he did. But winning an artwork contest for something you did not create is just not right in my book. Not right and not fair. Shameless, it is.
Here is Darlene's artwork.
Here is the guy's site.
Elections are wickedly fun with all the mudslinging, character assassinations and dirty shenanigans in the air. In less than 400 words, write a speech announcing your own candidacy for the highest post on a platform of "change". Be convincing and inspirational. Kinda like Obama. Here's what I did:
I stand before you today, just a man. A man who goes to work in the morning and comes home to his family at the end of the day. A man who goes to church on Sundays, a man who enjoys the beach every once in a while, a man who makes time to watch his daughter’s volleyball game.
Just like you, I listen to the news everyday and my heart is filled with despair. I hear stories of fellowmen denied justice because of poverty. Stories of mothers turning to immoral means of living just to get by. Stories of kids, selling trinkets just to buy bread, some prowling the streets instead of schools, sniffing glue instead of reading books, destroying their lives instead of building their futures. Stories of men, elected by the people for public service but whose interests turn out to be more selfish, more vile than those of the worst criminal.
Just like you, I find myself asking questions. Questions like — why isn’t the government, the so-called public servants, the powers that be, doing anything? Where have they all gone — the people whom I entrusted with my vote and duly paid taxes —where were they when we needed them most? What happened to the promises made — of a good life, better governance — the promises of change. Just like you, I asked myself these questions until my mind grew weary and my spirit drained.
Now I realized I was asking the wrong questions. Instead of asking “What have they done for me lately?”, I should have asked “What have I done lately?” Instead of “Where were they?”, I should have asked “Where am I in all this?” How can I help? What can I do? Yes, my fellow countrymen, I realized that I don’t have to sit here and whine about it. I realized I, you, we .. we have the power! Yes, my fellowmen countrymen, the change begins in us! The change can happen now! We are who we choose to be! And we deserve better!
I stand before you today —a man. Just like you. But with your help, together we can lead ourselves and this country to a better and brighter future! My name is G_____ and I am running for President. Join me on the path to change — it is now or never!
Visit Wordsmith's Anagram Generator. Enter your full name. Choose one from the results and use it as the title of your piece (poetry or prose). Length must not exceed 350 words. Here's what I did:
Classic Eagle Ennui
“What to do, what to do?”
Mused the gallant bird of prey.
A thousand feet above ground,
He soared disgruntled, in dismay.
Wings have been cleaned,
Feathers neat and trim,
Talons all polished,
But excitement is slim.
“O where art thou, Thrill?”
He uttered through his beak.
This is kinda strange because
Eagles don’t really speak.
He flew over the emerald jungle —
Eagle eyes on his vast kingdom.
He lorded above tallest trees
But his reign is menaced by boredom.
“Mighty Wind, I beg of you,
Mighty Wind from the Great Sea!
Grant me some deliverance
From this gray monotony!”
But Mighty Wind remained still
Silent, just hovering there.
Well, you can’t really expect a reply
From something made of air.
“Mighty Wind, heed my plea,
Have pity on me, my Goddess!
Bestow my heart with enthusiasm
To smite this dreadful dullness!”
Suddenly, the Goddess stirred
Awakened from her trance.
She spread her arms far and wide
Even though she had no hands.
With one swing of her massive arm
She slapped him with a blow.
It propelled the bird at lethal speed
Down the rocks below!
The full force of the impact
Left the eagle finished and dead.
All he wanted was some excitement
But he got exterminated instead.