Tag: Writing

Yet Another Sporadic Post: The Writing Process

First off, anyone who has not watched a single episode of Game of Thrones should run out and do so now. The show is shot so beautifully and is extremely well adapted from the novels. This leads me to my next mission: I am currently hammering out my world, my characters and my story. As I do so much research into the process behind writing and organization I realize there is still so much I don’t even know about my own world. I once started a story Wiki in hopes I could get all the information laid out in one spot. What I found there was as you write, you rewrite more in your wiki than you do anywhere else. The idea was fantastic, the execution, not so much.

As I have said in prior articles, I used to “free write” if you would. I would sit at a computer or a notepad and just write. Let the ideas pour onto the page. As I tried to be four steps ahead of myself I found I was finishing less and less, and my writing was actually suffering. In fact, even as I write this article, I am simply free writing. It is one thing that is extremely easy to do, yet also completely and utterly useless. I have planned only a few articles, and they shine above all of my others. One of them almost became published, until they realized that I had already posted the work online. They wanted completely original works. So be careful what you post online, it’s already out there and many people aren’t interested what they can already see for free.

Free writing is the parkour of the writing world, and it is a tough monster to master. It is not for the clumsy, just like parkour! What I mean is having a structure, a plan, a method to the madness is a damn good way to make your writing better. I ramble on and on sometimes about god knows what and it seems like I may even know what I’m talking about. Perhaps I do, and perhaps I don’t, but the one thing that I am sure about is that my structured writing is always much better than my free writing. Why is that? I’m glad you asked!

Structure allows for you to maintain the correct motion for your story or article. As you proceed forward your writing can always look back upon itself, but you must still have a purpose for that. I have been known to occasionally write myself into circles. A story that seems like it is going somewhere is not as good as a story that is going somewhere. Also, keep people’s interest. Two of the most popular fantasy series to date are among the most descriptive stories ever written. I’m talking about Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones. Both of these writers knew their worlds inside and out, and I will bet that George R.R. Martin remembers virtually every bit of dialogue from his novels. But in both of these stories there are tremendous amounts of purpose and direction. In Lord of the Rings we have the one ring getting ever closer to its eventual end and in Game of Thrones we have many factions fighting for the throne. In Game of Thrones it is harder to see the progression, but the easiest example to point out is that of Daenerys Targaryen. She is someone who, without spoiling too much, has travelled a long way and has experienced much on the path to obtaining her main goal.

These stories are exceptional pieces of fiction, the same goes for The Hunger Games and Harry Potter.  Do you think any of these stories had no planning involved? Absolutely not. My writing process thus far has been pretty simple and I would say, start with these.

  • Read, Watch, Play, Learn – The more you know, the richer your stories become.
The next questions are actually from Monty Python and the Quest for the Holy Grail.
  • What is your name? – Writing a character you know makes the writing more powerful, but it is easy to make up a character and know them. After all, you did create them!
  • What is your quest? – Do you seek the Holy Grail? Perhaps a shrubbery? You must know what the main storyline is. The character and the plot are what move the story. Is it possible to have more than one point of view? Of course! Does that make it a million times harder? Yes, of course it does. Stick with one point of view until you feel comfortable switching. One of the best parts of a book is being given that bit of information or insight into a character’s mind that may tell you more about them than their actions ever could.
  • What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow? This question seems irrelevant, but that was its point. Keep focused on your story. If something seems out of place, then it probably is. Cut it. Yes it is hard to cut something, especially whole chapters or even characters, but sometimes things just don’t fit in. You must reread your work. Be fruitful with your ideas, harsh with your criticisms and trim the fat.

So you’ve got your character, your plot and a bunch of notes scribbled haphazardly across a page. Fantastic, you’re a writer. There are a few million exactly like you. Now how do you get better? Repeat those steps above, repeatedly. How do you get published? I am still trying to figure that one out myself. You can self publish, especially with eBooks these days. But hopefully you will be able to hone your writing skills a little better with these suggestions.

Also in my previous post, I tossed out a template for keeping track of story information. I have expanded from just two sheets, to a hefty five, and could easily add a creatures sheet as well. I have my Plot Line sheet, and then four mimicking the Character tracking sheet. Those four are Characters, Places, Items and Lore. I hope that if this idea makes it from here to publication, people will be able to read the exact way that I worked it out as I wrote because that is the one thing I cannot find online.

So many writers have a “How To Write” blog, book, app, class or video… but how many of those writers are successful? I swear there is some kind of writer’s guild that forbids successful writers from making useful and helpful tutorials into their writing success. If anyone finds a great one, please feel free to pass it on to me. After reading this I am sure you probably think I need just as much help as you may need!

That is it for now, until this canuck-amuck’s next sporadic update, farewell and feel free to email me or comment below!

The Perpetual Roundabout

Imagine that you are on a featureless road, exits don’t come often but when they do, you’ll need to be sure it’s the right one. The road leads through Primary School if you’re lucky, heads on through Secondary if you wish and the road I’ve taken has lead me to a place where I find myself caught in a roundabout. For those of you who know me or have been keeping up with any of my blogs, any of my writings, or even my Facebook; you realize I’ve been here for awhile and have no idea what exit to take.

I am indeed a writer at heart, or even more so, a daydreamer. I am constantly imagining things, ranging from stories to events, and some are so vivid they could have been a dream, or memories, or truly real. However I am also very mathematical and analytical which has lead me down many other paths. I also love business, and the dream of being my own boss and seeing my own personal success is something I have also dreamed of. After Secondary, or High School, I jumped straight from there into Computer Science. I belittled the career aspect of being a professional creative writer myself and discarded even the remote possibility that it was an option. You must be extremely talented and lucky to gain notice in the field of writing. Just ask JK Rowling how hard it was to get Harry Potter taken seriously and then published. She kept on with it and if I ever meet her, no matter where I stand personally in the world, I will ask her how she planned those books.

For the moment I am circling at forty kilometres an hour trying to decide if I will exit or try and wear a firm circle through the asphalt beneath my tires (or tyres if you’re Australian). I guess I could also hit the accelerator and try to generate a tornado. Sadly, these are the choices I feel like I have in the meantime. My love for instant gratification finds the business side of me fulfilled and while I maintain an upward motion in the retail world, my business side grins like the Cheshire cat. But then my creative side lashes out and makes me feel absolutely guilty about ignoring it. So I force myself to sit here, in front of this computer screen, and I write. Sometimes meaningless things: “Star Wars, Episode Seven: Prophesy of the Force – Luke orders his secret apprentice to guard and train his niece while staying back to fight the new Sith Order. Meanwhile, Luke’s nephew is taken from his mother to become the newest Sith apprentice.” Sometimes meaningful things: “The Mediocre Assassin – A man trying to break into the top ten assassins in the world, finds his eleventh place standing lacking in pay and perks as he struggles to perform hits as well as maintain a family.”

So creativity is fun, it’s two in the morning and I constantly think about what next? The hardest part of writing a story is I know the beginning, the climax and the end… but being able to join them together becomes impossible. My mind jumps from idea to idea and inspiration cracks like a whip, snapping my attention from what I was focused on. No matter how hard I try and force myself to continue on, sometimes the more interesting story keeps my attention… until the next. I am a writing “slut” (if you’ll pardon the language) I’ll write for anything, but at the end of the day, nothing holds my attention long enough for me to finish it. Now maybe “slut” is a bit harsh, but you get the idea.

The roundabout continues on toward my analytical and mathematical side where I want to create using computers. I love the concepts and ideas behind artificial intelligence. I would love to go and be the first person to somehow program understanding. We are all trying so hard to make computers learn, that we ourselves cannot figure out why they don’t understand. Is it because they’re a machine? Perhaps. But I think even with how intelligent people are today, we cannot overcome our own limits. Do we understand how we understand? No, therefore, we cannot program understanding. No matter how deep that sounds, I’m no philosophy major. In fact the only degree I finished was a diploma and that was in animation.

So I see my choices: Analytical/Mathmatical, Creative, Business. I also shouldn’t forget the things I’ve been considering which go hand in hand with many of the skills I have and want to have, one of which is the ability to teach. When asked to write a list of the top fifty things I wanted to accomplish in my life, my biggest goal in life was to run my own school. This caught me by complete and utter surprise! But now that I am circling the roundabout of my future, I realize so many reasons why running my own school is perfect. It satisfies my business side fully as using the profit from the school would allow me to invest in a school run media business for game development, computer animation production and other various computer media opportunities. I could also invest in independent ventures and help start-ups as well as support indie developers and issue some grants to support creativity. Also maintaining a school would be an extremely rewarding and challenging opportunity that would give me an infinite amount of problems to solve while giving me a personal base for research and development for my creative side, while satiating my analytical side.

The problems with that are all the worlds, beings and stories I imagine never coming to light. I find myself frustrated with the idea that these worlds live and die with me. I almost feel it is my obligation to help the beings in my stories live and to see this passion through. Once again, I make another pass in the roundabout. From applying to school again, to writing again, to choosing career over all else. I feel the seasons coming before they do now.

The choice to go back to school is the hardest one to make. Do I take a computer engineering degree and turn it into an education degree? Or do I do the same thing with a business degree instead? Can my ten years in management, in diverse roles and positions be enough to get me past the hurdles in business? Or will career be the winner overall as it is always the most patient and most consistent. A safe promotion is guaranteed a return unlike taking a chance on school. But the only way to earn more money, is to use more money.

“You need to go to school, to get a job, to make more money, to pay for more school, to get you a better job, to pay off the debts you gathered while attending school.”

“You need money, to make money.”

For me I cannot tell if I am impatient and the lack of instant gratification in these choices makes it even harder, but I know I want to own a profitable school so I am able to invest it back into the future of the students as well as creative ventures. Just how to get there, and maybe I should just publish myself shamelessly and do the marketing myself. I’ll bet many authors have found some success in it! If anyone out there has an opinion, helpful words of wisdom or just want to say hi, please feel free to email me or leave a comment. Thanks for listening to the rantings of a madman, I do appreciate it!

The Middle Class Assassin: The Recruitment Process

(This is only Episode Three, Head to Episode One, Tough Times or the previous episode, A Life Of Routine)

As I walked the kilometre to the front door, I saw water features, swans, and the best for last; A Ferrari. There were many nice cars there, but that one stood out to me. I walked up the the front door and noticed it was open. As I entered people passed by me with delicacies and drinks. After snagging a free glass of wine, I began the search for Dwayne. I moved in and out of the crowd, careful not to disturb anyone, and finally Dwayne spotted me and waved me over. He was talking with a man I had seen through our post office before. He turned to me with a cheeky grin and assessed me through squinted eyes. “Ah you must be Brad? I am quite pleased to meet you.”  As the man shook my hand, a slight grazing of his suit sleeve made my fingers tingle it was so incredibly made. “Yes it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, but your name would be?” He looked to Dwayne and smiled before returning his gaze to me. “I’m Liam Theeson, I’m technically Dwayne’s superior.” Dwayne shrugged and laughed nervously, “Yeah, well except in hand to hand.” Liam laughed confidently and began to make his exit. Before getting too far he called back to me, “And don’t forget to enjoy the party!”

Dwayne watched Liam walk away. He was staring and then snapped back to me. “Listen, I need you to watch my Uncle Larry for a few minutes, if I’m not back in fifteen minutes, he’ll need his medicine. They’re in the bathroom cabinet. Whatever you do, have him sit down before he takes them, he always gets dizzy. Did you get all that?” I look over to Uncle Larry and then nervously back to Dwayne. “Uhh fifteen minutes, medicine, bathroom cabinet, make sure he sits.” Dwayne slapped me on the shoulder so hard I could already feel his hand print swelling on my skin. “Thanks pal.” I noticed him rush back over to Liam and they began chatting again. I began to wonder if Liam would have a job for me. I shrugged it off and decided to go chat up Uncle Larry.

A short stout man with a dirty comb over and a goatee to match, Uncle Larry seemed quite the sleaze. “Hey, look. Check out the bazongas on that one!” As I endured these comments, fifteen minutes went past and even Uncle Larry was starting to get edgy for his medicine. “Hey I saw you talking to Dwayne, did he tell you where he put my stuff?” I nodded politely and helped his fat carcass off the seat he was stuck in. As we made our way upstairs, I waited patiently at the door while he took his pills. “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff…” He stared into the mirror and then looked to me. “Well back to the bazongas?” I shook my head, “Sorry, but Dwayne told me to make sure you sit down because the pills make you dizzy.” Suddenly Uncle Larry became hostile. “What the fuck? Pills make me dizzy? Since when does e make me dizzy?” I stared at him for a moment. “E? As in ecstasy?” Uncle Larry was approaching full blown rage. “Of course ecstasy! What else would make…” His words trailed off for a moment as he looked at me. I grabbed him by the shirt and sat him on the toilet. “Dwayne said this would happen, he said you’d… get…” I felt my own words trail off as I watched Uncle Larry’s eyes roll into his head and a white foam run from his mouth. “Holy shit!” The words had no sooner slipped from my mouth and I had him on the floor and was beating onto his chest for CPR.

Moments felt like years and then suddenly, everything was silent. I was standing over poor dead Uncle Larry, who no matter how sleazy he was didn’t deserve this. I quickly washed my hands and made my way downstairs to find poor Dwayne. On the day of his big party too, jeez. I was officially the worst friend in the world. As I finally found him, I pulled him aside. “Uhh Dwayne, I’ve got some bad news.” Dwayne was smiling and waving at someone else half listening, half hosting. “Yeah, what’s up?” I looked around for the right words, and then I blurted them out. “Larry’s dead.” In a moment of self reflection, I regretted it the moment I said it. He turned to me and grinned. “I hoped you’d say that.” I was shocked to find that Dwayne wasn’t surprised by this. Shock didn’t describe it actually. But as I watched, Dwayne walked forward and tapped a spoon on his glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have a new assassin among us, Mister Flint!” Dwayne spun and pointed to me and I stood there, dazed by the turn of events. Suddenly, he picked up the announcements again. “Also for any of you who were betting I couldn’t pull of a kill through an unknowing recruit, please feel free to leave your bet in the glass vase by the door. One less politician in the world today!” Everyone raised their glasses and clinked glasses with the person next to them. “So that wasn’t Uncle Larry, Dwayne?” I asked amid the laughter and talking. He turned to me and smiled. “Not even close. He was a crooked guy who was blackmailing the soon to be President. In fact, you technically just worked for the government.” I shook my head as Liam put an arm around me. “Son, you’ve got what it takes to be a strong potential. You’re average enough no one will notice you and you’re average enough that you can be trained as a jack of all trades, potential master of none. Now that you’ve been implicated we can ask, would you like to know more?” I shook my head in silent agreement. “Perfect! I’ll see you on Monday. I hate working weekends.” As I walked away Dwayne called to me, “Hey Brad, take the betting vase with you, thanks for the help today!”

The Middle Class Assassin: A Life Of Routine

(This is only Episode Two, so don’t fret and catch up at The Middle Class Assassin: Tough Times!)

Arriving home I opened the door and yelled the ever so clichéd, “Honey, I’m home!” I stood at the door for a minute waiting for something… anything. “Hmm, well I guess no one wants these presents I got!” Suddenly I heard the sound of giggling and laughing as my kids came running around the corner. Vanessa made it to me first, two years old and she could outrun her four year old brother. Not bad for a little tyke. As she stared up at me with those two big hazel eyes, she mispronounced her expectation. “Pwesent?” I could feel the smile drift across my face. “Yeah, I’ve got it right here!” As I tickled her, she flailed in hopes of making an escape. Meanwhile Samuel, her brother, watched on. “I don’t want that present!” He then disappeared into the kitchen. As I picked Vanessa up, she was still giggling when I carried her into the kitchen to see if I could find my beautiful wife.

“How was Dwayne?” She said quietly, knowing that was the exact reason I was late. Her name was January, but she was as warm as a summer’s breeze. “He’s doing great actually, invited me to some party next week.” I leaned in and kissed her rosy cheek. No matter the day, she never wore make up, and in my eyes that made her even more beautiful. “How went the job hunt?” I asked while I tried to fend off the attention grabbing attempts from Vanessa. “I have an interview this week, but it doesn’t seem hopeful. I mean they said you need a degree, and I don’t, but they called me back anyway.” She looked to me with a hint of concern. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, but go in there thinking you’ve already got the job. Confidence means so much, so believe in your experience. Believe that the interview is because of that.” A bright smile lit up across her face. “You’re so right, you always know just what to say.” She sighed happily and managed to sneak me a kiss amid the flailing of a two year old. “Supper will be ready shortly.”

That night is a blur between putting the kids to bed, making love and thinking about half a million dollars. Really, what could I do with that? In fact I might as well fast forward to the next week as the days leading up to the party could not have been any more routine than if they had been scripted. I think I actually heard a laugh track then I tripped on the same run in the carpet three days in a row. But Thursday came and I woke up with some renewed vigor. I shaved, showered, gelled my hair and put on my best suit. I stared at myself in the mirror. “Damn, I look incredible.” I kissed the ever so lovely January adieu, hopped in my car and turned the key. Nothing. I turned it again. Nothing. I beat on the steering wheel as if to kill the damn thing. I beat it so hard that my hand was sore. I walked in to let January know but she was already in the shower, why disturb her?

I stood at the bus stop in the sweltering heat. The suit breathed like plastic wrap, and was probably half as comfortable, so I was relieved when a cloud finally blocked out the sun. Relieved until that blessing became a curse. At first I ignored it, a slight feeling of something on my face. I wiped away and there was nothing. Suddenly, I was being assaulted by a torrential downpour. Damn this world and my horrible luck. If it wasn’t for bad luck I’d have no luck at all. As I stood there accepting the rain, finally the bus came down the street. As it pulled close to the curb, neither the driver nor I saw the puddle before it was too late. The door to the bus opened and I was even more soaked from head to toe than I was moments ago. The driver looked exceptionally apologetic as he attempted an apology. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, this storm came out of nowhere!” I smiled a little. “Yeah, just like that puddle.” As I turned to look down the bus, I saw people moving bags onto seats and pushing over so there was no room for me. Real nice, but I couldn’t blame them. After all, I looked like Swamp Thing.

As I stood in the aisle dripping, people made their way out the back door of the bus, or the front. Really just the opposite direction of me. As the driver came to a stop after the majority of the people got off, he declared the next would be his last. I was concerned and decided to question that. “Wait, don’t you go uptown?” The driver kindly shook his head. “I’m sorry son, but we only do that during peak hours. You probably had just missed the uptown bus as I start the next run after that.” I shook my head in disbelief. The driver made his way to the next stop and as everyone else got off, I slowly made my way to the exit when the door closed in front of me. “Where are you headed uptown?” I told him and he grinned. “Well you’re in luck, that’s on the outskirts and close to the terminal. I’ll swing you by as I take this bus to fuel up.” I breathed a sigh of relief. It was about time some good luck came my way.

As the bus dropped me off outside some huge steel gates, I felt compelled to tell him this couldn’t be right. I walked up and noticed an intercom by their mailbox. I pushed the “Call” button and suddenly the oh so familiar voice of Dwayne came over the speaker. “Hello, hello? Is this thing even working?” I grinned. “Dwayne, it’s me! Brad!” I could still hear some fighting with the technology on the other end. “Hello!? Brad? Did you say Brad? If that’s you Brad, the gate is… open!” I walked towards it and gave it a push, it didn’t budge. “Uhh Dwayne? It’s not opening.” After a string of cursing, the gate finally began to open. As they opened, Dwayne announced over the speaker, “Welcome to Chateau De Dwayne!”

The Middle Class Assassin: Tough Times

(Today I am starting episodic content based off my “Mediocre Assassin” short story. If you’re unfamiliar with it, feel free to read it here.)

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. As I watched the absolute seconds pass on a clock on the wall, eventually it signalled the end of my shift. Let me fill you in. My name is Brad Flint, and up until a year ago I was the CEO of a major corporation. As many companies felt the recession, I was one of the casualties. As someone in the board felt that I was being paid too much, they cut me to pave the way for a new, cheaper CEO. Months passed and I found it hard to find a job anywhere. At thirty four years of age, it was actually damn near impossible. Sadly, we had to sell the acreage we lived on for a more modest dwelling. Still unemployed and looking for work, I found myself getting to know recruiters and they were getting to know me. But the day everything began to change, was the day my wife lost her job.

Two kids. A house we owned, but electricity and gas that we never could. As both of us tried our best to acquire new jobs, we had a tough time convincing the kids that everything was okay. We would spend all of our efforts with them trying to be positive, trying to find jobs. Once night fell and the kids were in bed, my wife would burst into tears in my arms. I always told her everything would work out. Our luck had to change sooner or later. I mean, do people really have bad luck for their entire lives?

So eventually I found a job as the clerk for the local post office. Local post office, just not my local. A half hour drive away, the small town for some strange reason had the busiest place I’d ever seen. This was where I met Dwayne Longstead. This guy when I first started was a regular guy: Average frame, no tattoos, basic smile. As time went on he and I became really good friends, one might even say the best of friends. I’d been working there for almost four months, but sadly my wife still hadn’t found a job. This brings us up to speed on where I am now. Tick. Tock. Oh yeah, I’m already done.

Dwayne stood outside waiting for me. The guy was probably mid thirties like me, however if you saw him and I side by side, he looks like a supermodel. In the past few months Dwayne became obsessed with super heroes and action movies. He started working out more than he brushed his teeth. Oh yeah, and he got some dental work done. Remember how I described him? Regular guy? Now the damn guy was some kind of Adonis, his muscles had muscles, his tan had a tan, and I can only assume he got that tan from his incredible smile. It was hard for me to hate the guy, he worked harder than anyone and travelled a lot. He worked so hard nowadays that I had forgotten he came around the first and third Thursday of every month to take me to lunch. Must be Thursday today… Good to know.

Dwayne immediately grinned when he saw me. “Jesus Brad, you’re looking great.” I looked at myself. I had managed to buy meat again since I started working there and had put some weight back on. I was also not as pale as I used to be. “Thanks Rockstar, nice tattoos by the way.” Dwayne laughed to himself. “Oh these things? Has it been that long since you saw me last? Look it doesn’t matter! What’s new with you, how’s the wife and the kids?” He somehow always had this way of getting you excited about anything, he was like a giant muscular, tattooed puppy. I smiled at the thought of him with big floppy ears and replied. “They’re okay…” Dwayne may have seemed naive to me at first, but after getting to know him more and more the guy was as sharp as a samurai sword. “Is everything going well with the house?” He nailed it. Right on the head. Never failed to impress the ever loving crap out of me. “Yeah, not so good on that front Dwayne.” I felt as though I had kicked that excited, muscular puppy with the look Dwayne was giving me. “Damn man, well lunch is on me today.”

We walked into Ellen’s Diner and there was Ellen, smoking a cigarette behind the bar and gabbing away on the telephone. We seated ourselves as always and before I knew it everything was pouring out of me. “I told them I’d have the money, but they wouldn’t listen. So I may have borrowed some money… illegally.” Dwayne stared at me with one eyebrow raised. “Illegally? Did you rob a bank?” I laughed the notion off. “Uh, no. But I did get it from a loan shark.” I was then on the receiving end of the most disapproving look ever since my Dad caught me looking through his porn collection. “I could have loaned you the money Brad!” Dwayne was virtually yelling at the top of his lungs, but I decided not to give in. Calm and quiet, I replied to him. “I owe you enough, but thank you. I know you’ve been there for me in the past few months unlike anyone before you, but I didn’t want to burden you. I mean, you just moved uptown.” Dwayne sighed heavily and ran his hands over his head. “Did you ever think I moved uptown because I’m doing a lot better?” I shrugged. “Of course, why would anyone move uptown?” Dwayne shook his head just as our meals arrived. Ellen stood beside the table smiling. “I just assumed the usual, but if you change your mind let me know.” She sensed the tension and walked away, but not before making a comment under her breath. “Geez, a thanks would have been nice… or even a nod… I hate customers.”

As we ate in silence, the food worked wonders to ease the tension. Something about a nice, juicy steak with gravy and mashed potatoes just eases all of my woes out the door. As we both sat back, arms resting on the back of the booth, we caught each other just grinning. Dwayne leaned forward first, shaking his head. “Brad, I have a proposition for you. I make roughly half a million dollars a year, and I work part time. How would you like to do the same thing?” I was shocked, half a million? No wonder he moved uptown. “Uh, yeah. But do I have to be as ripped as you are?” Dwayne laughed and shrugged. “You don’t have to be, but it helps in my line of work. If you’re interested, you’ll need next Thursday off to attend a small gathering at a friend’s place.” I grinned wildly. I hadn’t socialized since I had my first kid ten years ago. “Hell yeah, that sounds awesome.” Dwayne grinned from ear to ear at my response. “Glad to hear it, wear your finest suit. Oh and bring your ‘A’ game.” As he got up he handed Ellen enough money for both our meals and she got caught grinning as well. “Thanks D-Dog!” As Dwayne walked out of the Diner, he just kept shaking his head at her comment. I laughed and she glared at me. “What? That’s what I call him.” I pondered what this party was going to be for, but it almost didn’t matter. Socializing and half a million dollars… what would I do with that? I spent the next little while daydreaming until I decided to head home for the day.

The Ranting And Raving Of A Creative Mad Man

The sun goes down, plunging the world into darkness and suddenly a light goes on in my cramped home office. For awhile the glow of the laptop screen is more than enough light to work by, until I hear the voice of my Mother in my head. “Timothy, turn the lights on or you’ll hurt your eyes.” Obeying her mental reminder, I turn on the lights and return to my wooden throne in front of my idea box on my bargain basement desk. My girlfriend stirs in bed, asleep, muttering something about turning the oven off and I disregard it as sleep talking.

Is it that time already?

I feel my most alert in these wee hours of the morning, or late hours of the day depending on your perspective. These are the hours I normally write at my best and are normally my most focused. Why is that? How did I become such a night hawk? I listen as the kookaburras laugh maniacally outside and I think about this very article. What inspires me? What drives me? What binds me so deeply to writing, it is as if I cannot imagine being without it for even a day? As I ponder these silly thoughts I wonder if other creatives consider where their muse is on a regular basis. For me my muse works overtime: evenings, weekends, holidays, and sometimes puts in a solid sixteen or more working hours in a day. It all depends on if I sleep and for how long.

But as my mind keeps coming up with ideas, sometimes it can be hard to write everything down. I bought a voice recorder with voice to text software, but I never used it sadly. But my ideas aren’t just stories and games. Those are just all I love to share with everyone. They are my passions! But creatively, I have done many things. Music, Puzzles, Movies, Building Designs, Company Ideas, Business Plans, and oh so much more. It is like I cannot go one day without thinking up some crazy idea. People probably think I’m nuts as I find myself muttering while I think.

Oh games, you've always been there for me...

I don’t know why I chose games as my first passion for my creativity. I love writing, but perhaps it is the way you can interact with your viewer that I find so fascinating. I especially love when a game breaks through and messes with you as a player. But I’ve spoken about those games many times. Today I want to talk about the process I have for coming up with my ideas. Not because I think it will help those of you out there reading to be more creative, but it will maybe give you a bit of the madness behind my thought processes.

Underdog. No, not the cape wearing dog from the movie nor its cartoon counter part from many years before it. I’m talking about the concept of taking an underdog of an idea and bringing it to light. It was one reason I got hooked on the Blackest Night storyline that Geoff Johns was masterminding. I loved the idea of recreating these extremely boring characters that I never cared about, into these sudden foes of unimaginable strength and effect. I hadn’t realized it until the other day, but that was where I got hooked. The line spoken by an evil undead Aquaman still makes me shiver when I think about the first time I read it. “I am still your king.” He said this as he dismantled the Atlantean Army.

I am still your King
"I am still your king." Bad. Ass.

Also, I like filling voids. As I researched the Australian video games industry I got more and more frustrated. Maybe I should perhaps start up a game publishing company over here and that would save companies a ton of money on shipping and save the consumer lots of money at the store right? Well, if that was the case, why hasn’t anyone done it yet? You see, even with a billion great ideas someone has to give them the green light before they go ahead. My process has two people, and the first is my harshest critic. Me. As I come up with ideas I am frequently playing devil’s advocate with myself to shoot them down. If something can make it past me, then it might just be a good idea. I’m overly critical and have probably already shot down some ideas that were original and distinct.

The spark for my creativity can come from anything: a picture, a song, reading the news, working and anything and everything in between. I remember watching the trailer for Spiderman 2 and completely tuned out as the music played. My mind went to a large battle with magician warlords casting huge spells at the other’s army and then suddenly the trailer was over and I thought to myself, I need to get that song. I also love trying to expand on current endeavours such as video game franchises, or even film franchises. I like seeing these things break their own clichés. For example I heard there is another Bond movie coming out. I would personally like to see someone shoot Bond in the head and out of a moving train. They think he’s dead, but the metal plate in his head saved him, but gave him one hell of a headache. I want the bad guy just to not take the chance. It’s as if all Bond villains know how much of a threat he is, but decide to gloat instead of just shooting the man on a tarp and leaving him in a concrete bunker to die a slow, agonizing death.

Also, like everyone else I think, I daydream. You’re at work, and you are busy but not busy enough to occupy your mind. As you sit at your desk, you watch as an earthquake begins. Your coffee vibrates off your desk and crashes to the floor, the wall of your building crumbles and fades away in a cloud of dust as the lights flicker above you. Suddenly you realize this is no earthquake, but Godzilla  is roaming the streets and he is terrorizing people in your city! He finally got sick of destroying Japan! It was only a matter of time! So you grab your conveniently placed Godzilla-Slaying sword and run to the edge of the floor where the wall collapsed away. You’ll be the hero, this time you will stop Godzilla once and for all. You will triumph where Japan could not. You are- Back at your desk. Filing paperwork. Sad but true.

I think up these kinds of things all the time. People would think I was actually insane if they stepped into my head for even an hour. My mind jumps around inspired by what I’ve seen and what I want to see. I have seen Star Wars, what I want to see is a Blind Jedi Master using the force to wield four lightsabers at once against two different enemies; Two hover with the force, and two in his hands… in Case you were wondering. I’ve read comics, but I want to see more of how these people would react under real circumstances as in Batman is faced with the foreclosure of Wayne Enterprises. What would a poor Batman do? I have played games fighting demons, but how would the world deal with an actual end of days scenario as demons spilled forth from cracks in the earth? What if everything I thought was actually my own view into an alternate universe? I feel like sometimes I might be crazy and other times, I feel like I’m not crazy enough. I guess at the end of the day, we’re all crazy in our own way.

Unbiased Law: Episode 25 (Feature Length Film Finale!)

Episode Twenty Four Recap: Glenie announces he wasn’t always a robot to our detective and Magnus is faced with some difficult choices. How to stop a crazed man-robot trying to destroy the world? While ignoring Glenie’s offer of immortality and world domination, Magnus pulls the trigger on him, and then jacks in. As he follows Glenie into his own mind he is soon faced with a weak man, a prisoner in his own mind. As Magnus engages Glenie, he soon finds out the real reason behind his misbehaving. Mister Radlem has imparted his mind upon Glenie’s. Will this be the thrilling conclusion you had hoped for, only one way to find out (or head back to Episode One or Episode Twenty Four)!

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“Radlem? What the hell are you doing here?” I managed to get out. Radlem laughs maniacally. “Heh, you know something Detective? I like you. You’ve got some brass coming down here. But now you see the huge issue. There’s two people in here, not as easy as just jacking in and figuring out the solution to your problems. That’s why I kept him around, to keep this mental safe zone for both of us. Oh and because he’s extremely stubborn.” The two share a glance and Glenie smiles. “I’ve been alive this long, why bother dying?” I shake my head and shift my gaze between the two. “Well this is quite the problem considering none of us in here are robots. So now what?” Radlem grins a champion’s grin. “Well we sit here because you can’t gain control, and let the factory get overrun. It’s a shame really, no more humans might make the world a little less boring. But once you become a robot, you begin to lose your appetite for flesh. Don’t you Detective?” I stare at him, trying to figure out what he’s getting at.
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“Well I suppose it’s about time this ship has one less Captain. ” Glenie looks to me and nods. “I’m going to allow you to absorb my knowledge into your own memories here. Sadly, I don’t know where he has the codes or controls for the discards he copied himself into… but if I’m tired of fighting.” With that Glenie dissolves and I black out for only a second while my own information updates. I turn to Radlem who appears intrigued and frightened. “Hmph, no matter if you two share memories, he knew nothing anyway. But be careful, you are inside the front doors of my mind.” He turns and walks out the door, slowly closing it behind him. Just before he closes it he calls back to me, as I rush toward it. “I’ve got a surprise for you.” The doors close just as I burst through them and into a room that looks dramatically different from the room Radlem walked into.
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As the doors open, I notice the room has changed to a dark bedroom. It’s large and there is a huge bed with what seem like curtains around it. I walk over and throw them open, and on the bed lies Veronica, scantily clad in some lingerie. She leans up to me and I can feel her hand on my skin. I can feel. Tremors of pleasure slide down my entire body, causing goosebumps all over. I try and ignore the feeling, try and ignore her, but she is so beautiful and it’s been so long… too long. This is probably all fake, everything… but it feels real. As I sit beside her on the bed, I slide my hand up the back of her neck to her hair. She is so soft, her hair so smooth, smells incredible. It’s the equivalent of a drug. I pull her in for one passionate kiss. I feel her pressing against me, I feel her warmth, I feel… I feel… My mind feels invaded. Glenie flashes in my mind as if to say “What are you doing?” I lean back from Veronica and she stares at me. “What’s wrong? I came here just for you… My Dad wanted…” Her words fade as I stop listening and start focusing. This feels real, but I need that one thing that makes it not. I slide my hand down her stomach and find no wound, no nanite repairs. It’s entirely consistent. I leap off the bed and shake my head. “I’m sorry, but you’re not who I thought you were.”
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I stagger out of the room confused and dazed. I close the door behind me and picture the room that Radlem escaped in to. I think hard, and when I open the doors, the bed is still there. I close them again and focus harder. The walls, picture the walls, the floor, the colors. It’s the hardest thing I have ever done, trying to forget the touch and smell of a beautiful woman. When I open the doors, I see Radlem walking up a staircase. and as he reaches the top, the stairs disappear. He turns back to me and smiles. What a huge jerk, so cocky and arrogant. I’m going to punch him once I catch him. I walk forward and attempt to figure out how else I can get up. Nowhere to climb, nothing. I stand back by the door and stare forward. Suddenly a thought pops into my head, probably from Glenie. Try and imagine the stairs are still there. But believe it. I step forward where the first step was and there’s nothing. I step back and look down. Believe it. I take a deep breath and begin stepping where I remembered the stairs, and make my way to the top. I look back down and the stairs aren’t there at all. Man… it’s probably for the best I’m only a copy, I’d probably need some heavy therapy after this.
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As I make my way down the hall I see Radlem notice me and move left. I chase after him but when I look left, he’s not there. It’s just a wall. I look around, and suddenly I’m clubbed from behind. I spin from the wall and catch Radlem swinging at me. As we tussle, I force him back and get in an extremely satisfying swing. He drops to the floor and sprawls, completely unconscious. I notice as he lays face down, there is a weird thing on the back of his head. It seems to be a jack in port. Damnit. Dare I go further into the rabbit hole? Ah screw it, I only live once… and only for a little bit. Make the most of it! I kneel down and jack in, and find a matching one on the back of my own head. Strange enough, but who the hell knows at this point. I copy myself with no overwrite and after it completes I step back. I stare at the unconscious body before me… now what?
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I wake up in a dark room with only a safe in the middle of it. I’m a copy of a copy… do I matter at all? I know what I have to do, but do I really care? Sighing heavily, I pick myself off the floor and stare at the safe. On the other side of it, lies the unconscious body of Radlem and Veronica. Could they both be in here together? I help Veronica up and she smiles, despite a bruised cheek and a bloody lip. “You’ve got a mean right hook.” She whispers to me. “Help me over to the safe, I know the code.” As we stand there, I stare at Radlem as Veronica opens the safe. She cracks the door on it and looks up at me. “I’m so sorry for everything. None of this should have happened.” She hands me a small white envelope. I stare at it and look back to Radlem. Something catches my eye. Another jack. What else could he possibly be hiding? I open the envelope and read the code: “Victoria Radlem” I turn to Veronica and her mouth is open. “That’s my mother’s name. Why would he use that as his password, especially after the things he did to her?” I shrugged. Sadly there was only one way to find out. I find the jack on the back of my head and jack in again. What is real? What is fake? How far up do I have to go?
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When I open my eyes, I’m sitting in a chair across from Radlem. We’re sitting with a desk between us and it seems we’re in an office. I look around and everything is frozen, as if I’ve just appeared in a snapshot, or picture. I stand up and look around. Everything seems familiar. Everything seems too familiar everything… I turn around and Radlem has a letter opener and he’s swinging it at my throat. I manage to dodge but the fight gets dirty fast. I kick him in the groin and I can tell it hurts, but when he grazes my arm, my mind almost explodes from the shock of feeling pain. The mind makes it feel so real, so agonizingly real… Radlem and I fight back and forth, punching, kicking, eye gouging, wrestling and hitting each other with whatever we can grab. Suddenly he pushes me onto the desk, and pins me, and he laughs in my face. “It looks like I get to keep control of my body and you will have learned nothing.” The word stings and I fight to break free. Suddenly he shoots back in pain and when I sit up, I see him spinning trying to get the letter opener out of his back. Standing there is a woman who looks like Veronica, but older. She is absolutely stunning, and I can’t help but stare. She meets my gaze. “Take my daughter’s mind with you, and go to the Commissioner’s office with my name. Everything you need will be in the safe there and you already know the code for that.” I suddenly black out.
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I wake up face down in a dark room with a safe. Veronica stands over me and… so do I. “Well that’s trippy. As I sit up, Magnus and I share a look for I too… am Magnus. “You or I have to take her with us.” We both look at Veronica and I suddenly have an idea. “Alright, Veronica, the information you need is entirely written down on this paper, read it and then take it with you to the next level. You and I are going to switch.” Veronica seems confused but goes along with it. “Okay, but this is really confusing.” Both Magnus and I look at each other. “Try being us right now.” After some switching around I find that I’m still in Radlem’s body. “What the hell?” Veronica stares at me and points a gun to my face. “Sorry, Magnus here, looks like you’ve still got to die in his body for the body of Magnus to go up again.” He pulls the trigger and I am blinded like a camera flash.
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I stand in the hallway staring at Radlem’s body stirring in the hallway. I have no idea what’s gone on in there, so I prepare for the worst. As he gets up I prod him with the gun. He looks at me but in a completely different light. “Magnus?” I stare at him confused. “Yeah?” Radlem smiles and it creeps the ever loving hell out of me. “It’s me, Veronica!” After a short time of her explaining what happened I decide we have to switch. After the switch is done, I stand up and look at her in my body. “You had better take care of that thing.” She smiles at me from my own body… and that unnerves me even more. She manages to laugh it off, no matter how awkward things are. “So, it’s strange being in your body. I wondered what you were really like as a human.” She looks down to the pants and lifts them out to inspect the goods. “Not bad Detective.” I stand up and stare at her. “Yeah, well that’s the past. Now I’m all chrome baby.” I shoot her a final smile from Radlem’s body and toss myself from the window.
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I watch into the distance as the factory ignites in flames. We’re not going to make it. Well at least I know we did our best, I sent the best man I could in. Suddenly Glenie stirs and I ready the gun. Confusion erupts from the helpless robot on the ground. “Magnus? What’s going on? Where are we?” I don’t even know what to do or say. “Who are you, I’ll ask the questions, where’s umm… Magnus?” Glenie struggles on the ground. “Why can’t I move? It’s Veronica! Please help!” I stand the robot up, completely confused as to what the hell just happened. “So… if you’re here, where is my copy?” Veronica’s voice came across loud and clear. “No time, we have to go to the Commissioner’s Office and stat!”
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Veronica fills me in on the way there and I can hear Cletus in the driver’s seat so excited. Hell this was probably the most exciting thing that has ever happened to him. Well, I couldn’t argue that, this week was pretty ridiculous for me too. We pull up and I slam on the emergency brake and jump out before the car even stops. One of the guard robots tries to stop me and I blow past him as if he was standing still, well, he might have been. I rush down the hall and tear into the Commissioner’s Office, slamming the door behind me, and tossing a filing cabinet in front of it and then I examine the room. Hmm, where’s the safe, where’s the safe. Stupid girl never told me where the safe was! I look around frantically trying to find it and then I spot it. Behind the desk, but below a filing cabinet. As I stare at the numeric keypad, it’s asking for four digits. I think to myself and try Glenie’s numbers, G13-N13, 1313. The code buzzes and doesn’t give me access. I hear people and robots banging on the door and I try and think. What number could I possibly know?
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I think about all the four digits I’ve come across that would have been relevant to Radlem. Then I think about what Veronica told me. I say her mother’s name aloud, just to see what happens. A small painting shifts slightly, and I stand moving it aside. It reveals a picture of Veronica and on the back it says V3R0-N1C4. I rush to the safe and enter 3014. It clicks and inside is a small server, hard wired to a cellphone and a car battery. I simply pull the phone off the connection and watch as the programming running on it reports an error. As police flood the room, I explain the whole situation to them. They don’t buy it and I’m arrested for a list of things so long I don’t bother to listen. It’s not until the Mayor walks in hours later with a few bruises and a broken arm that I begin to listen again. “It’s okay, the army at the factory has stopped. You may be telling the truth.” The Judge in the cell beside me rushes forward. “Does that mean we’re finally free?” The Mayor nods slowly. “Yes, but you will be retired. Even though you may not have been responsible for this, putting you back into your position would harm the image of our courts. It seems people will be headed back to leadership and decision making roles for the next few years until this investigation is completely over.” The door to my cell opens and I walk out and shake the Mayor’s hand. “Thank you sir.” He smiles at me with a large grin. “No Magnus, thank you.”
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I head out to my car and notice the duo still sitting there, mostly because they are unable to move. “So what took you so long?’ Cletus says as Veronica grumbles something under her breath. I laugh and shake my head. “You know what, I think I’m going to take some time off to fix you two up. After all, Veronica, we’re going to have to find out where your body is and get you back into it. That’ll probably be a case in itself.” She sighs from Glenie’s body. “Well, whatever just get me out of here. I’d like to be able to walk and move again soon.” As I stared at the two friends I had made, I considered the fact that despite my solving of this case, many issues still remained. It would only be a matter of time before robots and humans were headed to war again. But for now, a little peace and quiet sure as hell wouldn’t hurt.
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This doesn’t have to be the end of Magnus’ story! If you really liked this story arc and the crazy case it followed, please feel free to comment on here, email me, message me on facebook, send me a carrier pigeon, I don’t care! I would love feedback! So please please please comment on this entire twenty five episode story and let me know your thoughts! Thanks for reading!

Unbiased Law: Episode 24

Episode Twenty Three Recap: Magnus finally has reclaimed his vehicle and upon arriving at the discards graveyard, finds a small solar powered cleaning robot in a bush. After a short discussion with the small robot, he realizes that his robot helped him out awhile ago. Unable to just leave the poor robot there to rust away, Magnus decides to recruit his aid and places his new found ally in his car. As he enters the graveyard, he is sought out by the limping robot and has found out that he wasn’t always a robot. Today’s episode is the second last episode for this story arc, what is left for our detective to find out? Only the words below know (or head back to Episode One or Episode Twenty Three)!

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“Not always a robot? Well that explains the limp.” I try and break the intensity of everything and Glenie glances for only a moment back at me. “Magnus, it is time for us to shine. As we speak I march an army upon the factory that creates us. We are going to take it over and convert the robots there into our own personal military.” I stare at him and begin my questioning. “But if you were a human, what would make you rebel against the very people who created these bodies, one of which you used to be?” Glenie scoffs and stares at the factory, as if waiting for a signal that everything is under way. “I’ve thought about it, and the moment you and I became humans inside of robots, we became immortal, like the gods. We now have power to control this city, shape it to our will. Rule the world!” He spins and I can already sense that he’s shocked when he notices my gun.
“What are you doing? I invited you to join in the immortality that will be our revolution. Robots against humans, extinction of the lesser race, Magnus, you know that together we could simply live forever.” I stared at him down the barrel of my gun. I wouldn’t miss. Not with this new body. “Glenie, I thought you were always a robot. You were never very personable. We can’t play God though. If humans wish themselves extinct so be it. But you and I are better than that, we’ve been given a second chance at life and this is how you’d repay them? With extinction?” A huge explosion came from the factory across the graveyard, and Glenie burst into laughter. “It is almost time, you are either with me, or with them… which side do you pick?” I stand there, and the moment hangs like a Windows operating system. I stare through Glenie, past the factory and imagine a world where I control everything. I could create hundreds of robots. Just like me. Like… me.
I flinch and reality slaps me in the face like a horse shoe magnet. I can see the gun quivering in my hand. “I’m sorry Glenie. But this isn’t right. You have to stop this. You have to call back the robots.” He laughs at me again, and I’m getting agitated. “You can’t stop me or them Detective. You would have to enter my brain, find the code yourself and deactivate them from a remote location which I won’t disclose to you. Your case, has gone cold Magnus.” No, this can’t be it. There has to be something I can do. Something… Wireless. I think back to the transfer I did for Veronica and her sister. Time to break the law once again. “Okay Glenie, you win.” I lower my gun for a second and I notice he walks over to me. “It’s okay, it’ll all be over soon.” It’s a good thing I can’t grin, because I had a crappy poker face when I was a human. “Yeah Glenie. Yeah it will be.” I move faster than I ever have before and I leap in front of Glenie, aiming and hoping I can hit his motor function drive. The shot goes off and we both hit the ground. I can hear him screaming in rage, but he still has power. I walk over and jack in. Time to follow this son of a bitch down into his rabbit hole.
As soon as the copy completes I jump up and hold my gun at his face. This was the deal I made with myself. Once I know the information, relay it back to myself and pull the trigger, I still have to figure out where to deactivate the discard army. Sadly for now, for this version of me. It’s all a waiting game.
Ah shit. I must be the copy inside this maniac. Time to find the information I can and go get killed. As much as I want to be the one pulling the trigger, I know deep down we’re both the same person. But are we? What if I’m the real one? No, we’re identical. But what if we’re not? I look around at my surroundings. This must be Glenie’s subconscious. It’s designed to be a huge steel castle. The ideal impenetrable fortress. Lucky for me, I’m already inside. At least the me on the outside was a good enough hacker to get me this far. I make my way across velvet carpet floors amid steel columns, until the hall ends at a rather large set of double doors. I push them, and they resist my attempt. What now? I look around. Nothing that can help me. Although if this is his subconscious, can I control it too since I have been copied here? I believe the password is Glenie. “Glenie.” I say it aloud and believe it will work. Sadly it doesn’t. Also it gets his attention. “You are an intruder here, and you will die because of it.” I turn and see a man in his late forties, grey hair, walking toward me with a limp.
“Glenie, is that you?” The words slide out of my mouth before I realize how stupid that sounded. “Yes it is me, but you’re not supposed to be here.” I stare at this frail man, it seems as though he’s been in here for ages. “Glenie, you’re about to destroy the world.” I tell him this and he looks shocked. “I’m what?” The man falls to the floor and sits there, stunned. I rush to his side. “Are you okay?” He nods. “I’ve been trapped here for years. I fight to regain control, but I can’t. I have managed to overwrite his motor skills with mine, which has slowed him down significantly. He hates the sign of weakness.” I stare at him, with some mild confusion on my face. “Who hates the sign of weakness Glenie?” He points over my shoulder and to the doors that have suddenly opened wide. I turn and my gaze fixates on the man I never expected. The one person who I thought had a minor role. Two people driving one robot, and sadly for Glenie, Mister Radlem didn’t like taking turns in the driver’s seat.
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Unbiased Law: Episode 23

Episode Twenty Two Recap: As Veronica spills the beans, Magnus finds out almost everything he needs to know about the Radlem’s. He gives in to his sympathy for her and lets her get a head start to a new life. Having earned his car back and clearing the background on Veronica, he is granted with one final parting gift from her. The name of the leader of the discards, also known as the killer robot, is apparently Glenie. Magnus having recognized this name from his own past now sets out for what seems to be the final clue to his case and finally closure on the whole Robot Uprising. What will today bring? Only this episode will fill you in (or head back to Episode One or Episode Twenty Two)!

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I sit for a moment to allow that to sink in. Glenie? My first robot boss. He understood more than any other robot but he was programmed from scratch. He spent every waking hour with the last of the human commissioners before he was placed into the position once they believed he was ready. The question is when did they scrap him? How hadn’t I heard of this? I mean he was the one who got me on this case, now he was both the leader of the discards and the police force? Something wasn’t adding up. He already had more than enough power to cause problems, so what’s with the discards? I look up to check my rear view mirror, and then remember it got shot off. Bah, I don’t need it anyway. I pull onto the road and for the first time in a week or more, I’m behind the wheel of my car. It’s riddled with bullet holes, missing pieces, and there’s blood all over the back seats. She’s got her issues, but she’s mine. Sweet, sweet wheels of justice and freedom.
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After my joyride, I pull up to the spot I remember in the original video I got many moons ago from a concerned individual. The one that showed the discards cannibalizing a dropped off robot on the road. The one that showed my car and her second, well third murder. I park the car and start walking toward the discard graveyard when I hear something. I turn and see nothing but a bush blowing in the breeze. Suddenly it comes again. It’s the faintest of sounds, almost inaudible. “Magnus…” The whisper is almost lost on the breeze, but I catch it. My vision looks into the bush and I notice the remnants of a small robot left. I lean down and look him over. He’s got no way of moving, but it looks like a truck may have bumped him off. “You. Are you the one who sent me the video?” The robot looks up and down the road and then at Magnus. “Yes, you are the one I heard them talking about at a seminar. I am C13-TU5. Cleaning robot for the school board.” I shake my head in disbelief at what has befallen him. “How could they simply just toss you here, you still seem to be working fine?” C13-TU5 stares at him as if he just froze, but then breaks the silence. “They tossed me because I was getting slower, repairs were getting harder and the newer models were cheaper. But that doesn’t matter. I heard about you from the Neighbourhood Watch in one of the schools. They said if there was ever something the police couldn’t help with, you were the one to call.”
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I would have smiled if I could. People saying these things about me in their meetings meant my job was being done well. Too bad I had to close up shop on official business this week. I miss the boring days of tracking down dead beat fathers and cheating husbands. Suddenly C13-TU5 began again. “I didn’t know who else to call… I remembered your email from the meeting, but for some reason I couldn’t find a number for the police in my database. Guess I’m losing my memory too.” If a robot could look depressed, I’m sure this robot fit the bill. I patted him in the head. “Don’t worry, I’ve got some business in here and then I could use someone like you with a keen eye for detail in my office. Would you be up for that Cletus? Do you mind if I call you that?” C13-TU5 paused a moment. “I’ll think on the new name, but I wouldn’t mind working with you.” I grabbed him out from under the tree and tossed him in my car. He’d need some work, hell, probably a lot of work. But I couldn’t just let him rust away under the tree. Also, apparently he didn’t need to recharge. Maybe he was solar powered.
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After placing him into my car I headed down into the graveyard, and it was worse than I ever expected. As I walked through I could tell I was being watched, if I made one wrong move I could have loads of robots upon me. As I marched through the aisles and over the random parts and discarded robots. I felt sick to my stomach. I saw cleaning robots, public service robots, military droids, police droids, you name it, and it came here. As I stepped over one unit’s head, I could hear the remaining energy fizzing away as if to manage some last words. As I knew I couldn’t be sick, I was okay, but my mind was making my fictional stomach do back flips while filled with battery acid. My eyes darted across the field of debris, well bodies and I glanced down to my own metallic legs. I was standing knee deep in discarded robots. This wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right. We were really this oblivious? Instead of recycling or improving the existing robots, we simply just toss the old ones away? “It’s terrible isn’t it?” A familiar voice came from behind. I turned and watched as an unfamiliar robot, walked with an all too familiar limp. “It’s incredibly saddening to see what humans do to the things they create. They consider themselves gods, while in reality they are less than savages.”
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I stand staring at the robot limping through the debris and I am too stunned for words. I still attempt. “I… I didn’t know. I mean, I knew, but didn’t… if you understand… what I mean?” I can’t take my eyes off him. Then he stuns me with only words. “Magnus. This was why I put you on the case.” My mind is baffled and my words fly out before I think about them. “Why? You were the one pulling all the strings, me included. Why was I so important in all of this?” The robot shuffles slightly and turns away from me and stares at the large factory in the distance. I recognize it as where the droids are made for the police and military. He hangs his head, and his words come out as sad as I’d ever heard a robot speak. “Because you and I are the same Magnus. The only difference is I never forgot you, but eventually, the force forgot about me.” I thought about his words for a moment. “But… you know I wasn’t always a robot, right?” He stares straight ahead, still fixated on the factory. “I know Magnus. Nor was I.”
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Magnus seems to be familiar with this robot, but not entirely. Will this prove to be a clever rouse? Or will this be Glenie? What will Magnus learn next? Where is everything headed? Only two episodes left! Stay tuned!

Unbiased Law: Episode 22

Episode Twenty One Recap: As Veronica pulls the trigger on her own father, it’s the killer robot who finishes him off. After tossing Magnus the gun he lost to the water under the bridge a few episodes back, Magnus is left standing over the body with the murder weapon and covered with the victim’s blood! As He makes his escape, Veronica flips back to his side and just in time to escape. However Magnus is through playing games, it’s time for answers. Now. Will he like what he has to hear? Read below to find out (or head back to Episode One or Episode Twenty One)!

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“I need to know what ever it is that made you want to kill him. I also need to know about the killer robot. I need everything. Now.” Magnus’ gun doesn’t waiver. Even if Veronica flinched the new prototype body is so fast he could block anything she could throw at him. She resigns to her captor. “Fine. I’ll give you everything. Just remember, you asked for it.” She begins by explaining what her Father did to her to keep her sister alive. This is when I remember that there are two women inside this body, and I’m listening to Ronnie, the robot half. She details how her body was fed flesh far from her sister, so the nanites could process it and then return it to its new owner. She never was loved by her father, as she was always just a robot to him. I mention about how he referred to both of his girls while he was in prison. She wipes away a tear and smiles. “I was his other daughter, I had my uses so I supposed I had to be acknowledged at some point.”
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As the conversation glides along effortlessly, I learn of how she was scolded for her sister’s failures and even beaten as she was just a robot anyway. Suddenly I am granted a view into Veronica’s life with her father. Her father loved her so much, that he would never let anything bad befall her. In fact, he would barely let anything happen to her at all. After her mother left them, her father became overly protective and because of her illness she was never yelled at. She watched however as her robot sister was beaten, chastised and even punished for the things Veronica did. I stifled back tears as I realized that despite one being loved and the other being hated by the same man, they both felt equally wronged by him. Veronica finished it off with, “As my father wouldn’t let me have any friends, Ronnie was all I had left.” I knew right then, they both pulled the trigger.
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Somehow merging the two sisters had made them see their faults and understand why the other did what they did over the years. But I had to press further. “So what deal did your father make with the discards?” I watched as Veronica’s eyes widened. The content lead me to believe Ronnie was talking, although I was having a lot of trouble keeping up as it seemed the two were becoming one. “My father needed more and more nanites. He kept making trips to the discard graveyard for parts and drained nanites. It was here he was approached by your so called, Killer Robot, with a deal. The robot would provide nanites, so long as my father would help him with his own repairs. As the two got close, they discussed a plan to frame my father for murder and throw the judicial system into question.” She paused only for a moment to ponder that and continued. “It’s strange how a man who hated robots, worked with a robot to cause chaos. I suppose it’s because they both agreed that the robots in the courthouse were incompetent. All you need is one link, and it starts a chain reaction.”
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Veronica sighed as she released the weight of all of that off her shoulders. I felt the urge to let her know the bad news. “Veronica, I’m sorry. You’re still a felon you know. You should leave the country today if you can.” She looked at me and surprisingly smiled. “I know Magnus. I’m sorry for everything I personally have put you through this week.” I nodded. “I accept, but I will be keeping my car now. You’ll have twenty four hours before I call the police.” She rose from the car and looked back in through the window. “Magnus?” I turned back to her and saw the look in her eyes. “Yeah Veronica?” She paused for what seemed like an eternity and then said something I wasn’t expecting to hear. “The Killer Robot with the limp? He’s actually some old police droid. Goes by the name of Glenie. Hope that helps.” I stop and stare into the distance as I hear Veronica’s footsteps disappear into the distance. Glenie? 6L3-N13? Commissioner Alpha 6L3-N13 who granted me permission to become a private eye back in the beginning? No. It couldn’t be… could it?
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Magnus is now faced with an old boss as his biggest enemy yet, but now he must figure out just how and where he can find him and stop him. Also, why would a robot have a limp? Why is he starting a war with the humans? Why was Glenie discarded? Only Episode Twenty Three could have your answers… or can it? Find out! Two days time!