IntShoWriMo 2015: Day 28: Make Me An Offer I Can't Refuse

IntShoWriMo 2015: Day 28 Prompt:

You die and go to heaven only to find that Mars is indeed heaven and Ray Bradbury is God in Residence. You and the legend strike a deal in which he offers you another shot at life on Earth to make up for all the wrongs you've done but only one score. What's the condition and do you accept or not? - Akpan

Word Count: 2k+

Akpan

IntShoWriMo 2015: Day 22: The Hell Between

IntShoWriMo 2015: Day 22 Prompt:

In more recent tales, there's been a shift from voodoo/hoodoo to virus-created zombies. Write a scene where scientists obtain blood samples from a voodoo reincarnated man (a zombie) but something goes terribly wrong during research in a lab. - Akpan

Word Count: 2k+

Akpan

IntShoWriMo 2015: Day 18: A Loaded Gun On a Hair Trigger

IntShoWriMo 2015: Day 18 Prompt:

Write a story about a world where people actually get plugged into a writer's mind to read his story, thereby sharing the writer's original experience while creating the story. - Akpan

Word Count: 2k+

Akpan

IntShoWriMo 2015: Day 16: Considering the Alternative

IntShoWriMo 2015: Day 16 Prompt:

Two objects sit before you: a golden hammer and a cup of what seems to be water. A note on the wall says: "Go ahead, make your choice. The outcome will decide whether you're ready or not." Ready for what? What is this place? Why these objects? Which will you choose? - WritersDigest.Com

Word Count: 2k+

Akpan

IntShoWriMo 2014: Day 9

Day 9: My Friend, Mark

Today’s Prompt: You receive a mysterious email and the subject line reads “Everything you know is a lie.” You open the email and read further: “Act calm as not to alert anyone, but everyone around you is not who they say they are. You need to quietly get out of there and meet me at the spot where you had your first kiss. You know the place. My name is Mark.”

— Courtesy: WritersDigest.Com

Word Count: 1,770

I want to tell you about my friend, Mark. But let’s get something straight from the onset. ‘First Kiss’ isn’t exactly what it sounds like and Mark who is the reason I’m telling this story to begin with, is not the guy’s real name. And I am not in the secret service or anything so lay aside every sentiment you may have for folks in that department. Let’s get back to Mark cause this story is about him. Him not me, forget everything you ever heard those wannabe shrinks say. Those folks couldn’t wriggle free of a wet toilet tissue trammel to begin with.

            …What? You wanna know how I ended up eating roaches for dinner? That’s what I’m getting at. Haven’t you been listening to a word I’ve said these past minutes?

            ‘First Kiss’ was what we called our rite of induction. We belonged to this cult, you see?

            …No it aint the kind of cult where you had to off people just to make an appearance. It was totally legit stuff.

            …How come I’m stuck here if it was totally legit? Are you for real? Who’s telling this story, anyway? Are you an undercover shrink or something? You even stink like one.

            …You’re not? Let’s get something straight, I’ll tell my story my way or it’s no way.

            Like I said, it was totally legit. We committed no crimes. Check your records see if you’ll find a crime by The Mark Gang. The only clause is we were all boys. Four boys, five, if you counted Mark.

            Let’s get to the highpoints of the story. There were school folks who believed Mark was an alien.

            …No. Not an illegal immigrant kind of thing. We never knew who his parents were, though.

            I’m talking about an extraterrestrial, the Stephen Spielberg kind. He probably flew in from one of the Kepler cluster of planets all these young charismatic set of astronauts keep probing. He looked the type, too?

            …Did we find any evidence to buttress the fact? Plenty.

            First, one of the kids in our cult Etok (/hey toke/), I believe it was had this issue with Mark about his gender and he called him out, too.

            “How come I never seen you go on a date?” Etok said. It was the truth Mark rarely ever chatted up a girl and he forbade us to bring girls to meetings even a simple group gathering.

            …What did we discuss in the meetings? Why would I tell you? Those were group secrets and we swore to never tell. Would you tell me if I asked what you guys discussed in your locker rooms or what you and your wife do… Read More Here: IntShoWriMo 2014

Eneh Akpan

June 9th, 2014

IntShoWriMo 2014: Day 5

Day 5: The Enterprise

Today’s Prompt: “My business is to create,” wrote William Blake. This week, write a story whose protagonist is also in a creative enterprise. Your character can be an artist, or he or she can be involved in a field your typical reader may not initially think of as creative. Try to find and describe this creative impulse.

— Courtesy: PW.Org

Word Count: 1,544

It was five in the evening and the feasting was done. Me and Reuben had grabbed a rattan chair each and walked off to the bank of the river a few meters behind his house. We took glass cups, a bottle filled with water and a little table for entertainment. The evening air was fresh and cool; a perfect culture for a serious conversation.

            “What do you guys do down where you said you worked?”

 I took a deep breath and said, “The Enterprise?”

            “Yeah, that. What are you up to?”

I cleared my throat. “I am the Creative Director.”

            “Break that down into chunks I can gobble in one swallow.”

            “I create stuff and I have all authority in decision making.”

            “You’ve lost me for the second or third time in as many minutes.”

I looked at him and spoke one word I knew he’d understand. “Art.”

            “I’d have come to ruin towing that line,” he said. “I tried it often even with you standing close by doing your own thing. Remember the times we came by these same waters as kids to paint the scenery?”

I nodded.

            “You, you were always the gifted hands in the family. Always.” His face congealed in a scowl. “How did you drift so far apart from the promising kid we all believed in, Markus?”

I swallowed and even though my mouth was empty, a lump slid down my throat like XL bitter-leaf-flavored pills.

            “Called and said you got a fine job and we was happy for you. Said you ‘created’ stuff and we believed you were a genius of some sort and beamed with pride everywhere we went…”

Reuben sniffed on his inhaler. He always had one on him whether he caught a cold or not. God knows why.

            “’Kay, I give up. I can’t narrate your own story to you it’s like preaching to the darn choir. So help me out. I want to know what you did. Don’t spit it like some god darn official report. Spin the yarn as simple as simple does without making it sound like a ball of confusion.” He sniffed some more on his inhaler. He sank in his rattan chair. ‘Your turn’ that gesture seemed to say. Read more here: IntShoWriMo 2014

Eneh Akpan

June 5th, 2014

IntShoWriMo 2014: Day 3

Day 3: The Comic Book Generation

Today’s Prompt: It’s your 18th birthday and, upon it, your parents deliver some pretty shocking news: You’re not really human. They admit that they’ve been covering up the fact that you are actually a (fill in the blank). After hearing the news you still decide to go to school, but this school day is different than all your school days past, especially when it’s revealed to others what you truly are.

— Courtesy: WritersDigest.Com

Word Count: 1,406

            “I can’t make things pop out of thin air if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I could feel their eyes crawling all over me like a million needles and pins.

            “So what exactly do you do, then?” Alicia asked.

            “Maybe, he can spin a web like Spiderman.” Rebecca suggested.

There were a few giggles after that last statement.

            “Well…” I said.

            “Maybe, he can dance standing on his head.” That was Dick.

This announcement was followed by an uproar.

            “I’ve not really attempted that one but yeah, I think, maybe, I could if I gave it a try,” I said.

            “Don’t think. Just do it,” Dick said.

            “You don’t think before breathing, do you?” Rebecca.

            “Or before falling in love,” said a kid with a low punk haircut whom we called Groovy.

That got everybody in the classroom roaring with laughter. Even Amen, my best buddy, was slamming his fist into his desk again and again bellowing a belly laugh.

            “Sshhhh…..”

And the silence held sway for a moment.

Just then some kid in the front seat flung a ball made from crumpled paper at me. I caught if off the air and made a paper aircraft out of it in the space of 5 seconds and tossed it. It glided in an arc round the room and returned to me. I snatched it out of the air.

The silence weighed down on my eardrums like a dead weight. I felt the eyes of the entire class trained on me. As far as I was concerned, I knew I had done something awesome but if you asked me to create a chemical formula to explain the process, you’d be barking up the wrong tree.

            “Dude, how on earth did you do that?” Dick whose eyes bulged with surprise asked.

            “I didn’t think. I just did it,” said I.

            “Do it again,” Shorty said.

            “I can’t.” I lied. “I don’t know how it happened.” Which was true. “Reflexes, I guess.” Which was both the truth and a lie. Read more here IntShoWriMo 2014


Eneh Akpan
June 3rd, 2014

IntShoWriMo 2014: Day 1

DAY 1: Toxic

  

Today’s Prompt: Fifteen years after a toxic spill in a small town, strange things are happening.

                                                                                                            —Courtesy: Writing.Com

 Word Count: 1,534

A man was standing in the middle of the road when her SUV came bumping along busting on the scene from a sharp corner. She was doing approximately, 120 miles an hour and barely had time to coordinate her reflexes and slam down the brakes to avoid running over the man who as it turned out was totally unaware of the situation. All he did was stand by and watch like the whole incident was playing out on one of those big screens you spotted at a movie drive-in. Her final thought, before she rammed the bumper into the railings and went flying off the road into the cliff below, was, Oh God, I’m going to die. Not this way, oh God, please. She was wrong on both counts.

            “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

She opened her eyes to blinding darkness. She was lying face up on a bed. She said the only thing that felt reasonable in this peculiar situation. “How did I get here?” And immediately, her mind supplied an answer. I must have survived the drop off the cliff. “What’s that rumbling sound? Is there a mill of some sort close by?”

            “No. that’s the sound of the train coming down the track. And don’t worry, nobody’s catching a train today, the rail’s a few miles off this place.”

Something struck her funny about the voice talking to her. It had the timbre of a child’s voice yet, bore the weight of maturity.

            “Where are your parents?” She turned her head as much as the racking pain in her body allowed her but all she made out in the darkness was a silhouette.

            “I am my parent. Who are you? Where are you from? How did you get here?”

            “My name is Ayara.” She didn’t know if she could trust this strange personality but given the circumstance, she didn’t have a choice. “I had an appointment to meet a client. Shortcuts are my fetish.” She shrugged like that ought to explain the details.

            “Shortcuts can be wrong cuts.” The kid-man said, not unkindly.

Read the rest of the story here: IntShoWriMo 2014

Eneh Akpan

June 1st, 2014

Collected Riddles From The Dark Tower IV (Wizard and Glass)

The author, Stephen King

TheDark Tower is a series spanning at least, eight books by the foremost horror writer, Stephen King. A bestselling fantasy series which has stimulated a dying passion for stories of the fantastical in the hearts of fans of the genre all around the world, the volumes are a blend of science fiction, fantasy and horror.

However, our concern in this post is not about the entire series only the fourth installment aka TheDark Tower IV: Wizard and Glass. In this volume, Roland and his ka-tet are challenged to stymie a suicidal mono called Blaine with riddles. Blaine is the last aboveground tool of the vast computer-system which lies beneath the city of Lud, and it has only one remaining interest: riddles. If its passengers cannot pose a difficult riddle, Blaine commits suicide taking everybody aboard to a fiery grave. Proceed with caution, for this riddles may mean the difference between life and death.

The final six or seven riddles silly as they sound are the cruncher that stumped Blaine theMono-the suicidal machine. The artificial intelligence choked on its words trying to solve these then blew a fuse. They were posed by Eddie Dean of New York, just in case you ever wondered. Hope you had fun, though.

Keep your pens bleeding!

Akpan

Science Fiction: Vehicle of Change

Long before I knew what the genre was called, an unalloyed sense of something deeper than awe always accompanied my views of any science fiction flick. The reason is not far-fetched cause the plot of a science fiction film 'looks like something that could happen' (advanced readers would call that plausible but my shoestring inventory couldn't afford such words at the time).

It is close to impossible reading or watching a movie or literature of the science fiction persuasion and not feeling the weight of urgency press down your pair of shoulders. No other genre drags you to the edge of your seat and sets your mind reeling off into forbidden places (were you to voice these in the dark ages, you’d be laughed out of court) that might be the future of the race of man. Science fiction is the one branch of literature that accepts the inevitability of change. Without the initial assumption that there will be change, there is no such thing as science fiction.*

Courtesy: guardian.co.uk

Once upon a memory, a post I had authored averred predictions were staples of the science fiction genre and a commenter on Reddit almost bit my head off for it. Obviously, it meant a lot to him (or her) that Sci-Fi and predictions be on bad terms. Well, here I am with a typically wholesome head and I still stand by that declaration. To boot, although I do believe a science fiction story shouldn't portray something that is going to happen, before it can be important, I do not totally agree science fiction can survive and thrive as a genre that suggests change without forays into the predictive. Besides, a good deal of the world's inventive genius has been the upshot of this invention-triggering genre. Films, books and art presented in a form that all but screams in your face; this could happen anytime soon even though much of what is portrayed may seem off-the-wall.

Individuals who have been inspired by science fiction run into hundreds, thousands by extension. People who read science fiction come, in time, to know that things will be different.* Beneath all the rise of the machines and alien invasion is a tour-de-force genre which appeals fiercely to the imaginative genius within us all. Science fiction tunes us up and opens up our hearts to perceive why things need to be different. Why techniques will change, why cultures will evolve and what we must prepare our minds to accept as inevitable. It is the preview of both the immediate future and the distant.

Science fiction foresees the different and alerts its fans to stretch the wings of intuitiveness and get hold of a spontaneous stimulation of sorts. It prepares the minds of people for technological advancements and real engineers and scientists are challenged to get productive. This is the function of science fiction; to incite a need—a deep-seated craving for the over-the-top—a desire to seek out unusual and out-of-the-way technique of finding answers to many of life’s problems. A need for change.

Keep your pen bleeding!

Akpan

*Asimov, The influence of Science Fiction

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