Archive for Blood Justice

Overcoming the Monster

Posted in death, Disasters, Global Warming, Love, Novel writing, screenwriting, Short Story Writing, story ideas, Uncategorized, Writing, Young Adult book with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 1, 2013 by davidburtonwriting

Okay, first things first, (which is a majorly obvious statement because whatever is first is first so it’s actually a wasted 16 bytes (17 if you include the comma to satisfy all the grammar snobs out there) and we all know there’s a limited amount of bytes (would I kid you?!) in the universe and the internet is gobbling them up like a doper with the “munchies” inhales peanut M&Ms, so forget I mentioned that saying, aphorism, idiom, expression, motto, slogan, colloquialism, phrase, archaism, etc., or whatever it is and go right into the shameless promotional moment you were hoping for).

Okay, the first thing (or is it now the second thing?) is a shameless promo for my novel Hell Cop which is now available in paperback for the e-reader impaired or those of us who just like to hold a damn book in our hands, sniff that new book aroma, and turn real pages. Plus, isn’t it more comfortable with a real book lying open on your stomach when you fall asleep? Not falling asleep with my books, of course. Just all those other hacks. However, if you’re fully digitized, go to http://dcburtonwriting.wordpress.com for links to all my bytes, vampire and otherwise.

I wouldn’t bother to tell you about these books, but I’m looking out for your well being. I want you to be prepared when the zombies attack, which it seems could be any day now by the number of books, comics, TV shows and movies about them. You wouldn’t want to be trapped in that ancient, leaky bomb shelter for months or years without a good book or two because that (safe?) genetically modified killer virus escaped and wiped out most of human kind. And no good books for all those years while cowering in that high mountain cave after the whole globe turns into a deadly environmental disaster area because global warming (that’s not happening, according to some____(fill in your own naughty word)) kicked into high gear–Oh please, no. BTW – If you don’t believe in Global Warming feel free to buy that beachfront property that seems so cheap.

Monsters? What monsters? Oh… yeah, them. I’ve been rummaging around the 720 page, 500+ words/page (whew) book,  The Seven Basic Plots by Christopher Booker. The first one is Overcoming the Monster. There’s plenty of monsters out there — Medusa, Cyclops, Grendel, Mr. Hyde, Moriarity, supernatural nasties  by the score, ex-wives/husbands/boyfriends/girlfriends, vamps, and, okay, okay, zombies. According to Booker, since stories began thousands of years ago, Overcoming the Monster stories have 5 stages– Spoiler Alert! — If you’re a reader you might want to scroll down a bit. You don’t need to know how stories are written. It  might take away some of the mystery and excitement that are my books. And… well… maybe a few others.

1.  The Call – Anticipation stage

2. Initial Success – Dream stage

3. Confrontation – Frustration stage

4. Final Ordeal – Nightmare stage

5. Miraculous Escape – Death of the monster.

Most all overcoming the monster stories follow this pattern. It seems to be in our genes. What struck me was that, though it was finished before I read the book, I found my latest novel, Blood on the Water, (at the publisher, sequel to Blood Justice , paperback here) – naturally followed the 5 stages. Do yours?

Ideas

What if your monster was your ex-wife/husband. Your divorce seemed amicable enough, but your spouse was not happy, carried a grudge, and was slightly (majorly) unhinged by it. You’ve moved on, found your princess/prince. The Ex seemed to have moved on, but hasn’t. Then your princess disappears. (Call to action)  You’re down and out but rally, search about and discover that the Ex has taken her and locked her in the attic, basement, pit, cell, cave, high tower. (Initial success) You man up, confront the monster, but the princess is gone and you get the shit beat out of you. (Confrontation)  You despair, want to give up, but your love rallies you, and win or lose, doing whatever you have to, you once again confront the monster (final ordeal) You’re up, you’re down, you fight through and finally rescue the one who makes you whole (miraculous escape) The monster is defeated and you and your princess/prince live happily ever after.

What if you were a kid and instead of monsters under the bed, in your closet was another world. Not a magical one with talking lions and such, but your world, only different. In it you are someone else, a nice person, with a nice boy/girlfriend. You like these people. They’re happy, you’re happy. Then, tragedy. The b/gfriend is murdered. You’re a witness. They’re after you. You run. You see the date; it’s tomorrow. Back in your bedroom you freak out. Parents think you’re high, big sister thinks you’re crazy. What the hell? You have a name, know their school, know somebody who knows somebody there. You go, search, just miss them. You saw where it happened, but don’t know where it is. You look for someone to help you. You find a nice (very) goodlooking person, with a great smile and sympathetic eyes who doesn’t think you’re nuts. Together you search for the coming murder scene. There it is! There they are! “Stop!” Bam. A car hits you. You’re hurt. Doesn’t matter. Running, limping, you chase after. There’s the killer, the monster. Only one thing to do…. Your new friend with the eyes and the smile is very proud of you.

What if there really was a monster that was guarding an artifact that would bring you unlimited riches and power over the world? So you and your evil henchmen go to the desert, mountains, jungle, city, underwater, space after it. It’s a tough slog. One by one your men are lost. You don’t care. You want that power, damn it. Hurt, starving, you come across a poor family. They show you kindness. Local bad guys are harassing them, stealing food, taking their daughter. They don’t ask for help, but for the first time you’re willing to give it and you take care of the bad guys. Finally you confront the monster, and being an evil genius you defeat it and gain the artifact. The family knows of the artifact and advises you not to use it. Of course you don’t listen and head back to civilization to put it to use. –End of the book in the series.

My monster is promoting, marketing my books and stories. Reviews, likes, shares, and word of mouth would all help slay that dragon.

Watch for Programed for Murder a mystery available soon. In return for a review I’d be happy to send you a PDF of the book.

A preview of the novella Young Blood is available here. I’d appreciate any comments and answers to the three questions.

Website – http://dcburtonwriting.wordpress.com    —  Find info and links on all my work here.

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/DBurtonWriting

 

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Vamps in Space!

Posted in death, Novel writing, reincarnation, screenwriting, Short Story Writing, solitary life, story ideas, Uncategorized, Vampires, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 29, 2013 by davidburtonwriting

First, a shameless plug… hustle… ah, notice of importance. My novel Hell Cop is now available in print from Amazon.

I’ve been thinking lately (always good to try something new) about what happens to vampires in space. Why am I thinking about that, you ask. And you should ask, because who the hell thinks, or cares, about the physiological effects of space on vampires? Except for Vampires and those who want to round them up, send them up and Good-fracking-bye paleface bloodsuckers.

It all began a long time ago, but never mind that. What matters is that I recently sent off the sequel to my novel Blood Justice — tentatively titled Blood on the Water.  So, fool, glutton for punishment, and/or masochist that I am, I’m already thinking about the next book in the series. There has to be a next book because two isn’t a series — it’s a couple of books looking for a third for gin rummy, a night of kinky pleasure, or maybe just a chaperon. I already have an idea for that all important third; but what about the next and next and next? If you keep going far enough you have to go up to space or down to Hell.

fire facecrop2

Hell — been there — the Hell Cop almost series (2 1/4 and counting) — and plan to go again, but vamps have to go up. So what are the rules up there? Think a space station, inside and out, no suit.

space1spacesuit com

No air – No problem. Vampires don’t need to breathe, except to talk. Though if one got shoved out an airlock they could beat on the door all they wanted but would certainly prove the truth of the  phrase – “In space, nobody can hear you scream.” (Thank you, James Cameron)

spacepic2Vacuum – Problem, sort of. Explosive decompression will do to vamps what it did to all those mortals in all those B Sci-Fi movies when their helmets got cracked – Phump, all nasty inside the faceplate. However, slow decompression they can handle, though not without a lot of grimacing and uncomfortableness  in the nether regions. Their quick healing can counteract all that cell and gas (yes they have gas, too) expansion.

Cold –  Even the toughest already dead vampire will be a stone-cold vamp way before getting close to absolute zero (0° K, 273.15°c,459.67° F) By -50°c, they’re getting creaky. By -100° C they’re barely able to move. Below that for any  time and they’re likely to be stone dead and not coming back a third time. Even vampire healing can only go so far. Although that might depend on whether they’re a good guy or bad guy and the state of alien technology . (See below)

Heat — For you, much time over 115° and you’re done. Vampires, 130-140° and their super repair faculty can’t keep up with the damage.  From vamp to mummy real quick.mummies1

Sun — Big Problem. We (unless you’re a hard core Buffy buff) all know that a Vampire has a maximum 30 minutes in the sun until they’re ash and dust. At 15 minutes they are praying for the immolation agony to be over. That’s on Earth where they get some shielding from the atmosphere. In space — 15 minutes max and they’re dust in the solar wind. No repairs. No redos.

spacesuit1With a proper space suit (a mortal one will do) they would be good to go for a long time. That sounds good until you get kicked out an air lock and are flung out into space to drift to the next star. You’d get mighty lonely floating out there for years, ravaged by a Blood Hunger that can never be fulfilled.

IDEAS

What if a vampire was ejected, intentionally or accidentally, into space for decades or years or even a really long time and was picked up by some aliens and rejuvenated, reconstituted, reanimated, revived, or whatever. What would they think? What would he or she think? What if the aliens were at war with some nasty invaders — like humans? Who would the vamp fight for? What would humans be/look like by that time? Would the long lost vampire finally find romance in an alien war?

What if  a vampire was a security chief on a huge Ark ship on the way to ____? He would have to solve murders, find stolen goods, locate missing people (whether they wanted to be missing or not) in a sort of Hardboiled/Spock/Sherlock H. kind of way. But who would be Watson?

What if the Earth was invaded by aliens and they were winning. There was one last escape ship ready to go with lots of important people — scientists, engineers, women, children on board. No vampires allowed – they’re being blamed for the invasion. The last group (the ones who know how to run the ship and where to go once they get away) race toward the ship. A group of vamps want to escape, too, and they know that one of the last group is an agent for the aliens. Would they be able to stop him/her from boarding? Of course not. So, how do they get onboard and find the spy before the Ark ship is blown up or captured, the humans enslaved, tortured or eaten? Whew!

zombie1

Makes me hungry just thinking about it. And thinking about eating, unlike zombies, not all vampires are bad. And you don’t have to be an immortal dead to read about some. Go HERE at vamp speed, not zombie speed, and check it out. In the UK go HERE.

Pleasant dreams.

Who you calling old?

Posted in Birthdays, death, Identity, immortality, Novel writing, reincarnation, screenwriting, Short Story Writing, story ideas, Story Subjects, Uncategorized, Vampires, Writing, Young Adult book with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 28, 2012 by davidburtonwriting

One of the characters in the novel I’m working on, Blood on the Water, (the sequel to Blood Justice) had herself turned into a vampire to seek revenge. That got me thinking…

If there are such things as vampires, I hope before one changes me into a ravaging blood-thirsty beast I have time to get hair plugs, a face lift, a tummy tuck, a bit-o-liposuction, and a little tightening of the neck. My nose is good. Even though I’ll be lurking in back alleys and dark parks looking for cute, blonde teenage girls (I didn’t add smart because a smart girl wouldn’t be in those places) to slake my maddening thirst for fresh young blood, I want to look good for the rest of my immortal life.

I just celebrated (?) one of those milestone birthdays no one looks forward to. If I’m destined to be changed into an immortal beast monster gentelman this isn’t the one I’d have chosen to be changed at.

What  would be the best age to be upgraded to immortal? “Go Young” you might say. But how young? Certainly not less than 18. It might sound fun to be a teenager for ever, but after 30 or 40 years you might want to go into a bar and have more than a Shirley Temple. They card vampires too, you know. Not to mention that as a teenager you might think you know it all, but you don’t. Unlike Rodney Dangerfield, if you want some respect, you should wait until at least 21 before allowing that charming bad boy/girl vamp to give you the bite that lasts. Even at 21 you’ll still get carded everywhere, and after 20 or 30 years nobody is going to look at your ID and believe you’re 40 or 50 years old. You don’t want people looking into your birth records then bugging you for the secret of how you’ve stayed so young looking, do you?

If you want to flow through the centuries with a certain level of gravitas, you might wait until 50, or even 60. Maybe 62 if you’re big on Senior Discounts. Who knows, if us mortals continue to live longer on our own 60 might be the perfect time to get that sporty convertible to scratch that mid-life crises itch. However, if you’re going to choose that option I suggest you go vegan and to the gym, starting now.

30ish would seem to be the ideal age to receive the gift, or curse, of immortality. Old enough to leave some, not all, of that youthful wildness behind you and still have your body, good looks, and hair.  If male pattern baldness is already creeping up on you, you might consider going younger, or learn how to shave your head. Bald is beautiful, Baby! You’ll also be young enough to be envied by all those old folks over 40. A plus for sure.  At 30, with experience and youthful indiscretions behind you, you’ll be ready to start building the fortune that will sustain you for the coming millennium or two; houses, cars, boats, travel, spouses.

Speaking of hair, make sure you have your hair cut in a classic style for the ages that you like. Because I’m not sure the hair of vampiric immortals will grow out to fix a bad haircut.

IDEAS

What if you were young and down on your luck, maybe living in your car, with few prospects, and a stranger, say 65-70 years old, offers you $100,000 dollars for your youth.  You would still be you, just 65-70 years old. Maybe some grey hair and some sagging here and there, but still you with the same mind as now, just older. You agree. Abra Cadabra you’re old, but not without some intelligence. You look into this age swap thing, find out the stranger’s secret, reverse engineer it, offer some not too bright drunk 25-year-old $5000 for his youth. “Sure. Why not?” he says. You swap, and then you find someone else with $100,000 and make them an offer. And you do this swap again and a again, a nice lucrative business. Except there are some bad guys who want a piece (all of it) of your action. And then there’s the father of a woman whose youth you sort of stole. And a cop who knows more about youth stealing than he should and he’s looking for you.

What if some kids are telling their Grandpa how proud they are of him that he’s such a hero, and he says, “Ain’t nothin’ to be proud of here.” And the kids say, “But everybody says you saved the town, village, city, country, world, galaxy.” “Humph,” he says. “Maybe at the end I did somethin’ good. But that ain’t how it started. They don’t tell ya that, do they?” “What do you mean, Grandpa?” He sips his whiskey and tells them, “Once upon a time….”

What if  you were a retired criminal well into your 60s, but still vital, living nicely with your wife on your ill-gotten gains. Then you had a visit from a some of your old crew. One of the old crew is dying of cancer, because a particular doctor misdiagnosed him, possibly on purpose. He has a family that depends on him. So you agree to look into it and find a criminal enterprise way beyond what you used to do. So you all decide to go against the doctor and all the other white collars who are letting people die for their own gain. The old street-smart tough guys against  the new ruthless, boardroom smart guys.

What if there was a planet where the sentient inhabitants grew old in the usual way, but at a certain time they grew younger, Benjamin Button style. As the unaged they brought all their experience of growing and being old to their government, business and culture. How would that make said government, business and culture different from ours?

What ever your age, be nice to the oldsters. Because sooner than you think you’ll be one of them bitchin that them youngsters don’t give any respect, just like you.

Destiny plus 6

Posted in Book Release, Destiny, Free E-Book, Love, Novel writing, screenwriting, Short Story Writing, story ideas, Uncategorized, Vampires, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on March 30, 2012 by davidburtonwriting

A quick announcment: Hell Cop: Sneaker will be a free download on Amazon.com this Saturday and Sunday, March 31 and April 1. No fooling. Find it here. (It’s your Destiny. That sounds better than Fate, don’t you think?)

What’s your destiny, and do you even have one? And how can you tell? After all, no matter what you do, you can never know if it was of your own free will or just what Destiny, one of Dream’s  brothers in Neil Gamin’s Sandman graphic novel series, had written in one of his books.

Speaking of books and destiny – I recently finished the first draft of a short story that experienced an unplanned  growth spurt to 25000 words. Destiny made me do it. Maybe Destiny has the hots for beautiful French Accidental Vampires? Maybe it’s my destiny to become rich and famous by writing about Simone Gireaux’s first 350 years. I’ll never know until I try and you buy. (Sorry, couldn’t resist. It’s the long hidden, for good reason, huckster in me.)

Coincidence or fate, can you ever know the truth and could you handle it if you did. Like, you can never know if that person you had a one night stand with and then slipped out before they woke up and then, with some trepidation, ran into a few days later but they were only pissed because they wanted to ask you out on a proper date and they did and you ended up happily/unhappily married to was only a coincidence or Destiny looking at his Big Book of You and pushing you here or there with his Unfickle Finger of Fixed Fate.

The only way that I can think of offhand to KNOW if you fucked up your life on your own or if it was written in some big blank book by a pothead with a trust fund, would be to die and ask St. Peter, if you go that way, or Joe Smith the ticket taker on Captain Charon’s Cross River Excursion pontoon boat for an appeal. It’s your right, after all. That way you get to review all the documents and videos pertaining to your life and you should be able to ascertain why it went so bad.  If it went good, keep your mouth shut and take the credit.

One reason to believe in Destiny is that you don’t have to take the blame if things go bad. “Oh come on. It’s not my fault I’m  lazy and carry a few extra pounds which BTW I can take off any time, and nothing good ever happened to me, and I still live in my parent’s basement and that stupid manager at the video store won’t give me a raise to $8.25 an hour so I can get my own place and go to school and get married to my high School girlfriend even though she lives in an oceanfront mansion with her husband and three kids. It’s destiny’s fault. I’m the victim here!”

I think we’re all born with a do-it-yourself Destiny Kit. All you have to do is read and follow the instructions, even if the ones giving you the instructions (presumably parents) didn’t follow them because they believed that Dream’s brother had already written their life so why bother. Bother, man! Maybe Destiny has an eraser.

IDEAS

What if Destiny really did have an eraser? What would his price be to change yours? You know there’s always a price for that sort of thing. But what is it? Maybe you’d have to seek out a Fate Broker. It’s his or her job to go to Destiny’s secluded secret library and negotiate with the head librarian. There’s usually a task involved in these things. If you achieve your task then you get what you want out of life. If not, you go back one step. Make sure you read the fine print.

What if you weren’t happy with the way your life turned out and then you died. You’d been beginning to believe in reincarnation lately and thinking maybe you should do something good for someone else for a change when you died. Then you’re standing in that never-ending Purgatorial line waiting to find out if you get the golden escalator up or that rattley, stinky service elevator down, when you see stuck in a crack in the rough stone wall a business card. You take it. It’s for an attorney who promises to handle an appeal/assessment/refund of your destiny. Hmmm? Eventually you come across a pay phone, but you have no dimes (Inflation hasn’t caught up down there, yet.) A guy behind you has a slug on a string. You have the number, he has the slug. You call, make an appointment for both of you. He/she is slick and slimy – Angel, Demon, Soul? – and makes you fill out stacks of bureaucraticly official red tape, jump through hoops, (literally) and find witnesses (far too many are already in Hell. Hmmm). Finally you get your professional assessment of your destiny, and you find… What?! Your attorney urges you to sue.

What if you worked for Destiny? You had to make sure that what he wrote, happened as he wrote it. So you go to Life on a job and… fall in love. We all know the crazy shit that makes people do.

So we do have a destiny. But you’ll never know whether it’s Dream’s brother’s fault or your own. So just in case it ain’t him, better get to it.

Please watch out for the new novella whose title I don’t know yet. It was Mentor, then A Novice Vampire to go with the orignal, An Accidental Vampire, but neither one is quite right. If you happen on a novella by me and it’s about a Young Blood French vampire named Simone Gireaux, that’ll be it.  Young Blood. Hmmm.

Who are You?

Posted in Identity, Novel writing, screenwriting, Short Story Writing, story ideas, Story Subjects, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 8, 2011 by davidburtonwriting

I’m working, if I may use the term “working” very loosely,  on the sequel to my novel Blood Justice which I know you all loved when you read it. A character in the sequel is a magician. Not a Ricky Jay, D Copperfield or Houdini illusion/escapist type. A Sorcerer using real magic power. He was born with the power, brought up to use it, to wield it with precision and skill.  A Sorcerer was what he was. Unfortunately, he wanted to be the most powerful Sorcerer/Witch. So he went up against The most powerful Witch, and lost. As punishment for going against her, and all the bad things he did to get to go against her, she took away his Magic. She reached inside him, literally, and took all but a tiny fraction of his magical power.

So without Magic, who was he? Born and raised with it, Magic was all he knew. He was a Sorcerer, suddenly deprived of what made him a Sorcerer. What if a life long writer lost his/her ability to write, a sailor to sail, an accountant his ability to count, a politician his ability to…(oh, do politicians have  abilities?) a plumber his ability to plumb, an electrician his ability to spark – what would they do to reinvent themselves?

I’m not talking about their jobs, millions are going through that right now, but their identities, how they see themselves when looking in the mirror, their talent, gift, mind-set. How would you cope with this loss? Would it devastate you with no possibility of recovery? Would you turn to booze, drugs, domestic abuse, staring out a window in a depressed stupor, suicide?  If someone called your name would you answer, “He doesn’t live here anymore. No forwarding address.”

As everyone has a different version of their identity,  as opposed to everybody else’s version, they would also have different ways of coping with its loss. Some would take it badly, some sadly, some might relish the chance to forge a new identity. Especially if they didn’t like the one they had. A second chance. Are you what you do, or what you are? How many of you might go for a chance to change that? Would you really? Do you have friends who would help you through the transition? Would they still be your friends after you sprouted those shiny new butterfly wings? Who would you rather be if you aren’t one of the few who are happy, “just the way they are?” You might ask that person in the mirror what they think. If you’re not afraid to talk to strangers.

Ideas

What if you were my sorcerer? In my story the Sorcerer is a passing character probably not seen again until the next sequel. But what if you were writing his story? How would he react? Slink away to obscurity? Become a kid’s birthday party magician? A used car salesman? Or get mad? Maybe go to the new second wand in the real magic world and make a deal.  Maybe go to the bad guys (Vampires) he worked with and make some kind of deal. Or maybe he would slink off, but not to oblivion –  To some of the magical characters and/or entities and/or friends he met on his journey up the sorcery power ladder to plan his triumphant revenge.

There are plenty of stories about people losing their memories. What if it was an alien on a raw colony world. The Humans take it in and treat it as human until it believes it’s one of them, until others of his kind come looking for him. Who would it chose – his human family or his kind who are alien to him?

What if it was a human taken in by aliens?

What if you were hit man on the run? New life, new family, new identity. A well-worn story line. But what if the ghosts of his or her victims took over his body and made him discover how his murders affected certain survivors.  Then made him take care of his victims’ unfinished business, including making sure loved ones were taken care of with money obtained from  sometimes (well, mostly) unsavory sources or murderous revenge, or….

A few places that have dealt with this theme: Quantum Leap TV show, the novel Memory by Donald Westlake. ( A fairly depressing book, but it deals with the identity issue straight on.)  A novel by (I think)  David Morell about a spy who had so many identities he didn’t know which one was real. In my novel Fear Killer, ( see sidebar)Emily Perrit is definitly having an identity crisis.

So how does the identity you have in your head stack up to the one everyone else sees? And what are you going to do about it? Who ever you are.

Know All, See All

Posted in clairvoyance, death, Novel writing, screenwriting, Short Story Writing, story ideas, Story Subjects, Uncategorized, Universe, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , on January 7, 2011 by davidburtonwriting

I am now working on the sequel to my novel Blood Justice (which I know you’ve read and are therefore jonesing for the sequel.) As Justine, Simone and Teresa begin their search for Antonia they came upon some unexpected creatures called Oracles. Now Oracles look and act just like people. They are long lived, but not immortal (There are maybe 500 in the world.) As the name implies they can see the future, as well as the past. Some can only see a day or two ahead, maybe only a few hours. A few can see further, much further. All can see their own death, whether it’s coming tomorrow or in a couple hundred years.

Like Justine, I struggle with what my answer would be if one of those powerful, I’d hope it wasn’t a weak one, Oracles asked me if I wanted to know when I was going to die. For free-gratis, no obligation. If I wanted to know, they’d tell me, and walk on by. Decisions decisions.  What would you choose?

There’s upsides and downsides to knowing: Did I mention that they only see what WILL happen, such as your death? No A Christmas Carol sentimentality here. What they see,  an hour or a century ahead, CAN NOT BE CHANGED.

Upside –  You can plan your own funeral. Make sure you get the rousing send off you deserve. Or make sure you don’t get any sendoff.

You can plan for success. If you knew you had 35 years left, wouldn’t you live a bit differently than if next month you’re out. 35 years is plenty of time to start another career. Or that business, or family  you’ve been thinking about.  That’s plenty of time to start taking care of yourself so those last years will be good ones. The Oracles can’t give you the details of what happens just before or after you die. They might say, “You’ll die at 9:30 p.m. on June 23, 2028, but what your life was like leading up to that time they can’t, or won’t,  tell you.  So you’d better start taking care of yourself now.

On the other hand, more upside. If you’re time’s up next month, why bother, indulge, Baby. Eat, Drink and make Mary. You can easily plan to spend your last dollar a minute before you go. You can’t take it with you!

So much for yourself, (you selfish twit you) what about seeing what will happen to other people? Their deaths, births, successes, who they really married. You could make a fortune working for life insurance companies or…(see IDEAS below.) If you could focus on celebrities you’d be king or queen of the gossip set. A little side bet on the Oscar winners anyone?

If you were a good (non greedy) person like we all (well, most of us) are, or an especially  good friend, knowing when something bad was going to happen you could be there to ease the hurt. What would you do with a little real clairvoyance? Good or evil? Helpful or hurtful? Resist the temptation to do bad things, or give in, or give in and use the ill-gotten gains to do good.  St. Peter will buy that, don’t you think?

Who knew there so many upsides to knowing when the Reaper was coming to touch you with those long boney fingers?

IDEAS

What if you knew when the Grim reaper was coming and you set a trap? And you caught him. No more death! Everybody’s immortal. And unlike vampires (though there is some debate on this in the think tanks and the higher intellectual circles) everybody could breed as they do now. What would that do to the Earth? How long before it’s, “Stop the world I want to get off!” (Hasn’t that been done?) Put your own twist on it? Maybe you trapped the Reaper and sent him, or her, into space on a ship traveling an out-of-galaxy course.  That would get us into space. The Great Reaper Hunt. Maybe they could only send vampires? Of course then they’d have to send something for them to eat. Oh well, that might diminish the surplus population.  Though the Earth might be so crowded they’d have to have a lottery to choose who got to go as Vamp food. It might be worth it!

What if you worked for a Life Insurance company? If you knew when a person was going to die you could tell if they were a good risk. On the other hand, if you knew when a person was going to die, why not buy a life insurance policy on them? Wait a few months and bam, collect.  A million dollar policy a year and you’d be set. Unless some hot insurance investigator figured out what you were up to and bought a policy on you, and made you look ahead to your own death, at his hand.

 What if  you were say 30 years old and you knew with certainty that the earth would be destroyed on your 65th birthday? Unless, you sacrificed at the maximum, your life, or at minimum, you had to leave the planet and never return without even being able to say goodbye.   Nobody would ever know of your sacrifice. Which would you choose? How would your life so far affect your decision? What if you  had had a shitty life, unhappy, unappreciated, unloved with little prospect of it turning around? What if you were totally happy, successful, loved by one and all? What other things in your life would affect your decision?

What if you could see in the future some great calamity happening to the woman/man you loved from afar, though they were oblivious to you? You didn’t know if you could change that future.  Would you try? What sort of abuse would you take from him/her before you said the hell with it,  you didn’t care anymore?

If I had  consulted an Oracle and known how hard this topic would be I might not have taken it on. I’d love to see your story ideas for this topic.

Honestly now…not

Posted in Novel writing, screenwriting, Short Story Writing, story ideas, Story Subjects, Writing with tags , , , , , , , on November 11, 2010 by davidburtonwriting

Hurry up! Win a copy of Blood Justice. Use your right of free speech, and clicking, and Go to:  http://suburbanvampire.blogspot.com/2010/11/contest-for-blood-justice-by-david.html

I’ve recently been informed that nobody reads my blog. This of course is disheartening, but also liberating. I can write whatever I want without worrying that I might offend someone, not that I do. I think it’s also not true that NOBODY reads it. Maybe 20-25 people visit whenever I post a new one. Surely one or two actually read it. Don’t they? Readers or not, and even though I grumble to myself when I’m actually writing it, I love doing the ideas part. Ask any writer, isn’t the funnest part that initial rush when that new IDEA is exploding in your head and new scenes and dialogue and characters tumble around like clothes in a dryer with new pieces magically appearing,  all screaming for attention? I want to write every idea. Alas, I am not a vampire and immortal, like the characters in Blood Justice. Ha, I bet you thought you were going to get away without another mention of Blood Justice. Fat chance.

Telling me that nobody reads my blog may or may not be true, and the right to say it may be protected by our country’s Right of Free Speech, but honestly now, wouldn’t a little white lie have been better? From your perspective it probably would have been, because I probably wouldn’t have written this slightly snarky blog post that you’re not reading. 

White lies are good. I mean what if there’s a gorgeous hunky guy at work who’s been making eyes at you and when he’s not looking you’re making eyes at him, though you know nothing will ever happen, and then one day you’re in the supply room and he shows up and somehow the door closes and his eye and body language make totally inappropriate suggestions, since you’re happily married to a very nice guy, and your head is outraged that he smells so good and his smile weakens your knees and warms your body fluids, but your body is overruling your brain by preparing itself for his big, strong hands to unzip and unbutton and grab you who cares where and lift you up and…. So you go home and your husband has a glass of wine ready and dinner in the oven and he asks, “How was your day, Hon. Anything exciting happen?” Now which is better, the TRUTH, or, “Oh, nothing. What’s for dinner?”

IDEAS

What if  you told a lie. Not a big one, a little white lie to save somebody’s feelings, which is a good reason to tell one, except this time that innocuous lie leads to one more and one more and then a bigger (but still white) lie, and then you’re done. Everything is cool as far as you’re concerned. But the person you lied to, not so good, and big trouble comes their way and it’s your fault and you love this person so you’d better fix it  because that first lie was one of those kill-a-butterfly-in-the-jungle-and-the world-will-end-(maybe literally)-chaos theory ones. So, feelings shmeelings, think of the universal consequences before telling someone a lie, like – “Nobody reads your blog, you hack.”

What if you spent your whole life making someone happy, lying, stroking the ego, anything to make that person happy at the expense of your own dreams and desires. Then they die. Sad, because now you’re too old, sick, tired, beaten down or wasted to seek your dream, but at least you know the other person appreciated your efforts. Well done, Joe.  Then you die, and you go to Hell. What? Why? you ask. Because that person you gave your life to bad-mouthed you at the Pearly Gates and so now you’re in Hell. And now, though you may be in Hell and they may be in Heaven, you have a new dream, and it’s called,  REVENGE, YOU UNGRATFUL BITCH! Or SON-OF-A-BITCH, as the case may be.

What if you could always tell when anyone lied, and, knew the truth they were lying about. What would you do with that gift? Do good, do bad, a little of both? Good on the outside, bad on the inside? Would you tell the government? Keep it a secret? Would anybody ever trust you if they knew your secret? How rich would get? What if bad guys got hold of you to use your gift (If you still thought of it as a gift)? How would you oh so cleverly defeat them? Honestly now, what would you do?

Freedom of speech compels me to honestly say, I want you to buy a copy of Blood Justice for a gift to a vampire lover you love.  And that ain’t no little white lie.

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