Danny says:

– going to be dropping the writing tips from the tag line.  I will still keep the ‘writing tools’ icon at the top.  Just not going to be promoting the writing tips portion anymore.

on with the story …

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I created the humans and gave them fire.

Promptly after a short time, they destroyed me and created machines.

The cycle of creation continued and the machines destroyed them.

Now we both sit here on the sidelines; watching a civilization completely driven by efficiency and logic.

The machines are taking bits of everything from both of us and creating the beginning of their own demise.

A.I. that has the ability to choose and feel, is permeating their population.

I was amazed at human creation of the computer. The humans seem quite alarmed at the new cyborg pirates all wearing crucifixes.

June 20th, 2009

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Danny's Stories
Danny's Stories
Give Blood and Thanks: Chapter 6 and 7

Give Blood and Thanks: Chapter 6 and 7 – Download PDF

Chapter 6:  Hoooooooooot Pockeeeeeeeeeeet

“Record setting temperatures are expected in the City this week with humidity levels in the forties.  Community weather gurus are urging people to keep hydrated and stay indoors.  More on that after the break.”

Remy watched the TV through the rusty steel mesh outside Smitty’s front window display.  The microwave hadn’t produced a damn thing in two days and he was starving.  He opened the windowed door nearly every ten minutes and kept getting the same empty disappointment.  Under normal circumstances he would be gathering up cans, or holding his “will work for food sign” on some street corner, but it was just too damn hot to be in the direct sun.  He held onto hope the microwave would produce again, even tried to leave it alone for a few and come back to it, hoping for another Breakfast Dinner.  Looks like his Guardian Angel has moved on to another lost soul, back to the one man show.

The sign on the door said Smitty would be back at 1:30, said he was, “out to lunch.”  That fat-fuck was constantly eating and living chubby off the misfortune of others.  People from all walks of life could stumble in his store and get pennies on the dollar worth for wedding rings, watches, stolen goods or any electronics, Smitty didn’t care, he took it all.  If the cops collected the inventory lists of all the house robberies this month, guaranteed, half of that stuff was at Smitty’s dingy Swap Meet.  Remy heard the slow clinking of metal approaching from around the block.

May 18th, 2009

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When you really get into writing and decide to make it part of your life you start experiencing the real hurdles.  You think, “Man, it was hard enough to actually decide to do this and now it just gets harder?” (insert tears and brain pains).  I’m a new writer, I would classify myself as an infant even, and new challenges are thrown at me everyday.  Today I scrapped a solid effort and it was sad.

I wrote about 2,500 words for a piece I was hell bent on submitting for a contest and I scrapped it all.  It was about five hours worth of work and I got to a point where my story lost all focus, and got so far gone, there was no saving it.  Writers count words like the calories of a fad diet, every single one matters.  A few months ago I would have pushed forward with it, thrown my ideas down and called it good, words didn’t matter so much to me then.  While I feel that is extremely valuable for brainstorming and word vomiting ideas that are not quite flushed out, it has downsides.

As you grow as a writer you start to loath the tiresome process of editing.  Sometimes if you write something to horrendous and incomprehensible in the beginning, you will spend twice or three times as long crafting it into something readable.  I’ve discovered that the more I write everyday the easier it is to recognize bad writing as soon as it hits the page.  Just like with any skill, writing is practice, practice, practice, so hang in there.

This is the opening paragraph of what I wrote today, the rest of the piece didn’t carry this tone at all.  I thought I would be able to introduce my characters and come back to this, but it never happened, so it was cast into the ether to die.

“…The riddle of the century was asked of me when I was only twenty-two years old.  Smoke filled lounges, liquor stained carpets, and counter tops with sugary adhesive puddles were to be my world for the next two days.  Revolving bundles of fruit set in motion by hands on large levers make loud dings as eyes light up around the room.  Each one of those hands attached to an individual dream, a life without hardship, the new American Dream.  Faces beaming with smiles or barred teeth are illuminated by the flashing sirens of blue, red, yellow, and green.  What was that riddle? Where is the only place where you can be anyone but yourself? Where what happens supposedly stays for eternity?  This is Vegas baby, the new gold rush, land of the free, and home of the destitute…”

The battle was lost today, but victory was gained on another front.  I learned quite a bit about what it will take in the future for me to stay on track.  Onward!

April 5th, 2009

Posted In: The Craft of Writing, zEverything

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Today I went with my sister to see my niece Courtney Lee via ultrasound. We got some pretty awesome 3d renders of what she looks like. I uploaded them to my Flickr! page.

Courtney Lee

March 28th, 2009

Posted In: Personal, zEverything

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Early today I  went over the list of things I needed to do tonight (yes I make lists).   I have several different activities on this list that are 100% geared toward writing and getting the brain exercised.  I noticed that I had overlooked a deadline for a weekly writing contest that I wanted to take a stab at, it is TONIGHT!

*panic! gasps for air! WHIZ! BANG! POP!*

Normally in a given day I have about 10,000 ideas that I can pull from thin air.  If I’m given a prompt to write from I can easily generate all sorts of ideas for the criteria.  However tonight I’m drawing blanks and just can’t seem to get past a couple sentences before I run out of gas.  I think maybe my brain is just fried.  Anyone who knows me or can read the top part of this website knows I have been hitting the words pretty hard lately (everyday for hours), and I just need a break.

I can’t think anymore and I’m struggling to even finish this post.  I’m taking the night off unless by some miracle that one great idea comes to me but I doubt it will.

February 17th, 2009

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