Foo's Bulletin Board -- 1600 Words FINAL

Okay, GPT says this version is ready, and I agree. I need to go back and fix the 800-word version now, but I'll just do that on my portfolio blog. GPT keeps trying to get me to submit to literary magazines that don't accept work that has any AI DNA on it. So, I'm just going to use this as-intended, with a disclaimer on my Fiverr gig that I use AI to help me brainstorm and edit. 

I'm not ashamed that I use AI, at least not creatively. I know which parts are from my brain, and they're usually the best parts (although it's really funny when GPT compliments a part that it came up with as MY genius), but I just have zero confidence in how to fix what's not working. And how to pinpoint what works and what doesn't. 

I learned to draw using fashion templates -- that's where I got my general sense of anatomy from. I don't really look at the stuff I drew with other peoples' templates as my own work, I think if it more as collaborations. And I see the stuff I write with AI as collaboration, too.

And yes, one one hand, it's gross that this tool is built off of the intellectual and creative labor of those people who were not compensated or credited for that work. On the other hand, it is kind of beautiful to have access to the collective creativity of all of the best writers of all time. If we weren't operating under capitalism, AI would just be the biggest collaboration of artists and writers of all time. It would be a miracle.

And, honestly, with how little time I have left on this planet, and how little time this planet has left with humanity, it's hard to feel guilty that I am able to use this miracle as a tool for my own writing. Frankly, I'm shocked that it's available for free. GPT keeps trying to get me to upgrade, but the version I use is free and it's about as close to magic as a magic-less world can get.

All that said, maybe I'm delusional about the quality of the results I get. Maybe I only get better results with GPT because my results without it are, for lack of a better word, bad. It's hard to say. I'm too close to it. But, history won't be the judge because we have no future. So, I'm going to chase the dopamine that I get from engaging my creative brain and try to drown out all of gag-inducing self-doubt that tries to flood all of the seratonin out of my system.

Enjoy!

Foo's Bulletin Board -- 1600 Words WIP

 Okay, if you want the finished 800-word version, you can see the last post. Here's what I have so far for the 1600-word version:

High on the mountain’s shoulder, the brass-domed observatory kept watch over the village of Willowwink, its curved panels glinting like a half-peeled moon. Inside, gears ticked in steady counterpoint to the hush of the great telescope, and the enchanted star maps glimmered faintly, shifting as though breathing in sleep. Glass orbs drifting near the ceiling cast their own glow as night deepened.

Foo stood on a brass balcony inside the dome, as she peered through the small brass spotting scope. A few motes of blue starlight drifted from the eyepiece; she brushed them aside. “Clouds gathering near the western ridge. Light frost by dawn—nothing troublesome. Should burn off by noon.” She jotted the note down.

Mentor leaned against the railing, runes on his cloak faintly lit. “Very good, Foo. And the river fields?”

Foo tapped her weather chart, which chimed gently. “With the moon waning and the north wind steady, the soil will stay damp enough for sowing greens and grains, but too wet to lift potatoes or cut the wheat.” She sketched a crescent moon and a frost symbol. “I’ll add that to the board.”

Mentor looked around the observatory. Every chart was sorted, every lantern lit, every lens polished. “Are we already finished?” he asked. It wasn't even midnight. 

Foo continued scribbling. “You've taught me well.”

For Mentor, something clicked. After a moment, he walked over and nudged her elbow. “Ask me.”

Foo stopped writing and rolled her eyes. "Mentor –"

"Ask," he instructed.

Foo sighed, going back to her notes. "What is the meaning of life?" she asked, the question routine, the answer always different, and never quite right.

He smiled. He had it this time. "Not to only observe, but to experience."

Foo looked up, uncomfortable with a truth that reverberated in her bones. "Huh."

“Ah," he said, her reaction confirming what he already knew. "At last, I’ve earned my promotion. I am now named Guru. And as my promotion means yours, congratulations, Head Astronomer!”

Guru'd spoken of ascending for years—but Foo was still flummoxed. “Tonight?”

“The stars rarely consider our human timelines,” he said, with a laugh. "I expected this years ago, and you, I suspect," he said squeezing her shoulder. “Thought it would never happen." 

He laughed at her blush and drifted toward the storage alcove where his belongings were tucked neatly into a traveling satchel. He set it down on the ottoman in their small sitting area and moved around the observatory, removing the feather quill carved from a thunderbird tail from his desk and placing it in his bag. From his bag, he removed a small jar of starlight, replacing it with a larger jar. The sight of him re-packing his was as familiar as his voice nudging her to "ask".

This time felt different, purposeful instead of hopeful. Final. 

Later that night, as Foo descended from the observatory, she turned, briefly, to watch Guru ascend. Above, the sky glittered, a deep river of silver constellations sliding overhead. She turned back toward Willowwink,

The village unfolded beneath her, roofs huddled together in soft colors, chimneys dark and still. The air carried the lingering scent of fresh bread and the metallic tang of cooling iron from the blacksmith’s yard. A broom leaned against a shop door.

She crossed the square. The ridiculously elaborate fountain for a village this small featured a statue — a woman, who turned her back as Foo approached. Foo, accustomed to the stone woman's shyness just waved before the woman had completely turned away.

The sandwich board stood near the fountain, its wood polished smooth by years of weather and Foo's monthly polishing. Foo replaced the previous night’s weather predictions, rolling it neatly for archiving. She pinned the fresh page in its place. On the other side, she pinned fresh horoscopes and returned the stale ones to her cylinder.

Before leaving, she took out a third note, the first she'd ever written that requested a reply. It read: “Seeking Astronomy Apprentice: Experience unnecessary; curiosity required. Reply if interested.” She pinned it with a star-shaped earring whose twin had vanished long ago. She often wondered if anyone read the notices she posted on Guru's board -- her board now. If anyone answered her note, she supposed, she'd have her answer.

Unbeknownst to Foo, the board steered the village, nudging plans as subtly and powerfully as wind shifted sand. Harvests, festivals, even market days bent around her updates.

Prince Gorl visited Willowwink daily; its observatory was the only one in his kingdom, and he used her information to keep his realm running smoothly.

He liked to travel disguised as a frog — people demanded more of a prince — but when he read Foo's request, he resumed his human form long enough to reply with his own question.

That evening, Foo returned and found a reply pinned with a tiny crown-shaped tack. It read: “Would you accept a humble frog?”

The next morning, Gorl found that his question had been answered with a question. He laughed, transforming long enough to reply: “Frogs can’t give you warts. You’re thinking of toads.”

When Foo read the frog's reply, she was relieved, but embarrassed. She was proud of her knowledge of astronomy, astrology, and weather, but was fully aware of her ignorance in almost every other arena.

She hoped that she'd learn as much from her new apprentice as he'd learn from her.

A couple of weeks later, the great telescope hummed softly as Foo adjusted the eyepiece, tracing faint stars along the ridges. Beside her, Gorl crouched on the desk, using the modified lettering armature to transcribe that evening's board update from Foo's observations.

Foo sat up straight and stretched. "I don't even know if anyone reads these things," she murmured.

The scratching of ink on paper came to an abrupt halt as Gorl stopped manipulating the armature. "Are you jesting?" he asked.

Foo looked over at him. "Well, I know that you do—or at least happened to when—"

"Foo, the entire village reads your board every day," Gorl interrupted, hopping a bit in his agitation to her question. "Even I—happen to know that Prince Gorl uses the information to plan out larger festivals, sea trips, and just—everything—with the information that you provide."

Foo, a little alarmed by Gorl's passion, fumbled with the telescope. Maybe it was a coincidence, but when she peered back through the telescope, it was focused on Guru's mountaintop. He had shown her his destination many times, in case she ever wanted to visit him when he was gone. Did she? Did she miss him? She didn't know. Guru had been so much a part of her that him leaving was like a third arm that had decided to detach itself. She felt more incomplete than sad. 

But a visit wouldn't be enough to complete her. Him returning wouldn't complete her either. He'd have to never have left. 

She adjusted the telescope to her favorite constellation. She turned to Gorl. She didn't want to think about Guru and she was slowly digesting the information that her notices were not just read, but important. She realized that she didn't know anything about Gorl. It must be so odd to be a frog. She hadn't really thought about making conversation before, because they'd been so busy training. "So, um, Gorl, huh? Were you named after the prince?"

Gorl was staring at her. He blushed, his tiny webbed toes curling slightly. "Um. Yes." His whole body shook. "But wait, you're changing the subject. Do you really not know how important your notices are?"

Foo shook her head. "It's not like anyone ever answers back -- until you."

Gorl couldn't cock his head, so he cocked his whole body. "There's not much to say to a notice. I answered a question. Maybe you should leave another one and see if someone answers you."

Foo didn't think that was necessary, since Gorl was so sure that everyone read the board. She was actually feeling a little self-conscious now, thinking about it. It was like everyone in the village had been reading her soul for years, but she had no sense of theirs. "I suppose," she said slowly, thinking about it as she spoke. "I have a lot of questions for them. Maybe..."

That night, Foo posted her weather and horoscope updates, and left a question that one of the villagers might know the answer to. Her fingers trembled as she pinned it with the same star earring that she'd used for the apprentice inquiry.

The next morning, so early that even the fountain was still asleep, mist curled along the cobblestones as Bo approached, carrying a duck under one arm, holding her shepherd's crook with the other. Bo always stopped at the message board before anything else. Habit, she claimed. Really, it was because she liked to know what the world was up to before the world noticed her back.

“Hm. Clear skies tonight. Frost on the orchard roofs. Lunar arc unusually sharp. Ooh, another note -- I wonder if the observatory is looking for another apprentice.” 

The duck didn't say anything, just clucked uninterestedly.

"Oh!" Bo cried, it's not a notice, it's a question about sheep!" She read it and laughed. "Listen to this:

'Honored Villagers,

I am Foo, Head Astronomer, and I have a question for those of you with sheep expertise. How do you wear a fresh sheep's wool without getting blood all over you? Or is blood part of the effect? Also, what do you do about the smell? I apologize for my ignorance. I am not a fashion expert.

Best Regards,

Foo'

Bo shook her head. "Goodness gracious, imagine wearing a sheep's actual flesh as clothing." She plucked a feather from the duck’s flank.

The duck jumped out of her arms. “OH! So that’s what this was? Is this why you gave me a ride?" It ran around, flapping its wings. "So you can steal my feathers, willy nilly?!” It waddled off toward the fountain. A moment later, Bo could hear the duck complaining to the fountain statue as it splashed around in the fountain's waters.

Bo felt bad. She should have asked. The duck would have gladly given her feather for Bo to use as a pen, Bo had just been so excited that she'd plucked without thinking. She pulled out a small whistling knife and sharpened the feather. Then, she looked around. What could she use for ink? 

Later that night, Foo read Bo's reply in the moonlight. 

Pretty rough sketch of what I want for this version. I borrowed from some previous drafts to expand the observatory scene but now we're at 1800 words, so I'll probably pare that back down a bit. Also, GPT pointed out that we have the "unbeknownst" line plus Gorl explaining to Foo how important her bulletin board is, so I'll fix the redundancy on that. It was a concern when I was working on the 800-word version but GPT didn't mention it then, so I'll have to go back and fix that in the 800-word version, too, which is fine. 

GPT also mentioned the tone shift with the draft. Yes, it's all over the place and gets very silly at the end. I'll figure out how to ground it tomorrow, but the funny thing is that although plucking the feather was in the original draft from the early 2000s, the duck reacting was GPT's suggestion and now it's saying it's too silly. But that's okay. It is a bit silly right now. 

The funny thing about working on the longer versions is that I tend to have to go back to the earlier version and fix stuff, which messes with the word count, so I'm basically re-writing each version each time I make a new version. I'm going for exact word counts for this experiment, and I want the versions to be as close as possible to each other. Like, I want it to read as though I've only added things, not re-written from the same concept.

I'm feeling discouraged about the idea of anyone paying me to write, which isn't new but the stakes feel extra high. I can't give up before trying, this time. I've also been "working" all day, so I'm probably just discouraged because I'm tired. Does it count as work if I'm not being paid? 

This isn't what my post is about, but I have to share one of the silliest things I've ever drawn. This is the thumbnail for the Fiverr portfolio:

It's Purrmio getting ready to lick Mewliet's paw. Is that the dumbest shit you've ever seen? Can you tell which one I used an actual reference from and which one I tried to figure out myself? I am not in the habit of drawing cats and I could not find a reference for the poses I wanted, if you can believe it. But I'm still pleased with this. He looks like a real cat and she looks like Nermal from Garfield, though. Whatever, it was fun. But this took a few hours.

The anatomy looks even weirder with part of it covered up, so here are our heroes in all of their glory:

The story is equally ridiculous, by the way. I think I might post the transcript of GPT and me writing it together because it's so dang dumb. I was just thinking that it was a missed opportunity not to name him Purrmeow, but I think GPT suggested that and I thought it was too much. 

Foo's Bulletin Board -- 800 Words

 Okay, here's what I have for the 800-word version so far:

High on the mountain’s shoulder, the brass-domed observatory kept watch over the village of Willowwink. Inside, Foo had nearly completed the evening’s observations when Mentor drifted in.

He would have helped, but every chart was sorted, every lantern lit, every lens polished. “Already finished?” he asked, sounding impressed and faintly lost.

Foo continued scribbling. “You've taught me well.”

For Mentor, something clicked. After a moment, he walked over and nudged her elbow. “Ask me.”

Foo stopped writing and rolled her eyes. "Mentor –"

"Ask," he instructed.

Foo sighed, going back to her notes. "What is the meaning of life?" she asked, the question routine, the answer always different, and never quite right.

He smiled. He had it this time. "Not to only observe, but to experience."

Foo looked up, uncomfortable with a truth that reverberated in her bones. "Huh."

“Ah," he said, her reaction confirming what he already knew. "At last, I’ve earned my promotion. I am now named Guru. And as my promotion means yours, congratulations, Head Astronomer!”

Guru'd spoken of ascending for months—but Foo was still flummoxed. “Tonight?”

“The stars rarely consider our human timelines,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “You’ll lead the observatory beautifully.”

He drifted off to gather his things. Guru was like a third arm that had decided to detach itself. At the suddenly looming prospect of his absence, Foo felt more incomplete than sad.

Later that night, as Foo descended from the observatory, she turned, briefly, to watch Guru ascend. She turned back toward Willowwink, making a flight that felt even less necessary than usual. Each night she flew down to update Guru's—or, she supposed, now it was her—sandwich board near the fountain.

She often wondered if anyone read her notices, but she might soon find out. After pinning the weather and star updates, she posted her first note that requested a reply.

“Seeking Astronomy Apprentice: Experience unnecessary; curiosity required. Reply if interested.” She pinned it with a star-shaped earring whose twin had vanished long ago.

Unbeknownst to Foo, the board steered the village, nudging plans as subtly and powerfully as wind shifted sand. Harvests, festivals, even market days bent around her updates.

Prince Gorl visited Willowwink daily; its observatory was the only one in his kingdom, and he used her information to keep his realm running smoothly.

He liked to travel disguised as a frog — people demanded more of a prince — but when he read Foo's request, he resumed his human form long enough to reply with his own question.

That evening, Foo returned and found a reply pinned with a tiny crown-shaped tack. It read: “Would you accept a humble frog?”

The next morning, Gorl found that his question had been answered with a question. He laughed, transforming long enough to reply: “Frogs can’t give you warts. You’re thinking of toads.”

When Foo read the frog's reply, she was relieved, but embarrassed. She was proud of her knowledge of astronomy, astrology, and weather, but was fully aware of her ignorance in almost every other arena.

She hoped that she'd learn as much from her new apprentice as he'd learn from her.

A couple of weeks later, Gorl was settling into his new role as Apprentice Astronomer. He was a keen learner, and already helpful. The great telescope hummed softly as Foo adjusted the eyepiece, tracing faint stars along the ridges. Beside her, Gorl crouched on the desk, using the modified lettering armature to transcribe that evening's board update from Foo's observations.

Foo sat up straight and stretched. "I don't even know if anyone reads these things," she murmured, out of habit. Guru had stopped responding to this question, long before he'd left.

The scratching of ink on paper came to an abrupt halt as Gorl stopped manipulating the armature."Are you jesting?" he asked.

Foo looked over at him. "Well, I know that you do—or at least happened to when—"

"Foo, the entire village reads your board every day," Gorl interrupted, hopping a bit in his agitation to her question. "Even I—happen to know that Prince Gorl uses the information to plan out larger festivals, sea trips, and just—everything—with the information that you provide."

Foo, a little alarmed by Gorl's passion at first, was trying to digest the fact that her work was important after all, and not just to the village? The whole kingdom?. Fighting a blush, she asked, "Really? I'm just — always asleep when — I've never even met a villager…."

Gorl stared up at her in amazement. "Why would you do it, if you didn't even know how important it was?" he asked.

Foo thought. "I like doing it. It's important to me, even if it's not to anyone else. The stars feel like friends, and I love that I can see so much from right here."

I like it but it doesn't feel like a complete story. GPT said that it's because the arc isn't complete. In the beginning, Guru says that life isn't just about observing, it's about experiencing, and that doesn't come full circle. It suggested having Foo ask Gorl a question about himself -- showing an interest in something outside of her world. 

I think that's a good suggestion, and it could open up potential for the 1600 version, where what Gorl reveals here is expanded upon. I think it would be really funny for Foo to ask Gorl what interested him in the bulletin board in the first place. Which, you know, is because he's the prince and the prince uses the weather reports in order to set up support for his kingdom. Or, maybe, she can ask Gorl if he was named after the prince. That would be really funny. I'm not sure if that will make the story feel complete, but I'm going to do some editing and then I'll ask GPT what it thinks.

Okay, GPT and I agree that this is better:

High on the mountain’s shoulder, the brass-domed observatory kept watch over the village of Willowwink. Inside, Foo had nearly completed the evening’s observations when Mentor drifted in.

He would have helped, but every chart was sorted, every lantern lit, every lens polished. “Already finished?” he asked, sounding impressed and faintly lost.

Foo continued scribbling. “You've taught me well.”

For Mentor, something clicked. After a moment, he walked over and nudged her elbow. “Ask me.”

Foo stopped writing and rolled her eyes. "Mentor –"

"Ask," he instructed.

Foo sighed, going back to her notes. "What is the meaning of life?" she asked, the question routine, the answer always different, and never quite right.

He smiled. He had it this time. "Not to only observe, but to experience."

Foo looked up, uncomfortable with a truth that reverberated in her bones. "Huh."

“Ah," he said, her reaction confirming what he already knew. "At last, I’ve earned my promotion. I am now named Guru. And as my promotion means yours, congratulations, Head Astronomer!”

Guru'd spoken of ascending for years—but Foo was still flummoxed. “Tonight?”

“The stars rarely consider our human timelines,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. “You’ll lead the observatory beautifully.”

He drifted off to gather his things. 

Later that night, as Foo descended from the observatory, she turned, briefly, to watch Guru ascend. She turned back toward Willowwink, making a flight that felt even less necessary than usual. Each night she flew down to update Guru's—or, she supposed, now it was her—sandwich board near the fountain.

She often wondered if anyone read her notices, but she might soon find out. After pinning the weather and star updates, she held up an additional note.

“Seeking Astronomy Apprentice: Experience unnecessary; curiosity required. Reply if interested.” She pinned it with a star-shaped earring whose twin had vanished long ago.

Unbeknownst to Foo, the board steered the village, nudging plans as subtly and powerfully as wind shifted sand. Harvests, festivals, even market days bent around her updates.

Prince Gorl visited Willowwink daily; its observatory was the only one in his kingdom, and he used her information to keep his realm running smoothly.

He liked to travel disguised as a frog — people demanded more of a prince — but when he read Foo's request, he resumed his human form long enough to reply with his own question.

That evening, Foo returned and found a reply pinned with a tiny crown-shaped tack. It read: “Would you accept a humble frog?”

The next morning, Gorl found that his question had been answered with a question. He laughed, transforming long enough to reply: “Frogs can’t give you warts. You’re thinking of toads.”

When Foo read the frog's reply, she was relieved, but embarrassed. She was proud of her knowledge of astronomy, astrology, and weather, but was fully aware of her ignorance in almost every other arena.

She hoped that she'd learn as much from her new apprentice as he'd learn from her.

A couple of weeks later, the great telescope hummed softly as Foo adjusted the eyepiece, tracing faint stars along the ridges. Beside her, Gorl crouched on the desk, using the modified lettering armature to transcribe that evening's board update from Foo's observations.

Foo sat up straight and stretched. "I don't even know if anyone reads these things," she murmured.

The scratching of ink on paper came to an abrupt halt as Gorl stopped manipulating the armature. "Are you jesting?" he asked.

Foo looked over at him. "Well, I know that you do—or at least happened to when—"

"Foo, the entire village reads your board every day," Gorl interrupted, hopping a bit in his agitation to her question. "Even I—happen to know that Prince Gorl uses the information to plan out larger festivals, sea trips, and just—everything—with the information that you provide."

Foo, a little alarmed by Gorl's passion, fumbled with the telescope. Maybe it was a coincidence, but when she peered back through the telescope, it was focused on Guru's mountaintop. He had shown her his destination many times, in case she ever wanted to visit him when he was gone. Did she? Did she miss him? She didn't know. Guru had been so much a part of her that him leaving was like a third arm that had decided to detach itself. She felt more incomplete than sad. 

But a visit wouldn't be enough to complete her. Him returning wouldn't complete her either. He'd have to never have left. 

She adjusted the telescope to her favorite constellation. She turned to Gorl, thinking about how odd it must be to be a frog. She realized that she didn't know anything about him. "So, um, 'Gorl', huh? Were you named after the prince?"

Gorl had been staring at her. He blushed, his tiny webbed toes curling slightly. "Oh. Um. Yes."

We both really like the line about being complete not if Guru returned, but if he never left. We change when the people we love leave us, even temporarily. A reunion is a reminder of being whole, it's not actually becoming complete again. I'm glad that GPT didn't let me leave on that downer ending, though. Apparently, her asking Gorl about himself is enough to count as "experiencing" life rather than observing, but it doesn't seem like enough. But that's probably, like, Foo, I can't tell the difference.

Alright, onto the 1600-word version!!!

Foo's Bulletin Board

 I had a fun little wake up call this week. My last unemployment check was only half of what I usually get, and it turns out that I'm all done. I don't know why I thought that unemployment lasted a year, but I was dead wrong. So, now I have to get serious about trying to sell me writing -- because I literally can't even contemplate getting a job outside the house anymore. Even if my dog didn't have intense separation anxiety, I just can't make myself interact with humanity anymore. So -- I'm getting my Fiverr profile completed and I thought of a story I started working on last year. 

I actually wrote it in 2004 or something like that, but it was from a prompt and was basically gibberish. When I started using Chat GPT, I pasted this in, as a litmus text to see what GPT would do with truly terrible writing. But GPT pointed out that it was, "whimsical, clever, and deeply readable in that meta-fable way that looks simple but hides sharp insight underneath. You’ve built a full parable about communication, loneliness, and community without ever losing the humor."

Here is the full story that I pasted into GPT:

Once upon a time, there was a lonely girl named Foo. She was pretty, smart, and nice, but no one knew that because she only talked to herself. When she'd help people, she'd do it anonymously. When she'd do equations, she'd do them when she was by herself. One day she got board...oh, excuse me bored. So she decided to reach out and communicate with people. She made a big beautiful bulletin board with ribbons and streamers. Then she wrote notes on it and put it in the middle of the village. At first, no one replied, they were all busy and didn't have time.

But Foo kept trying. She made the board bigger and prettier. She put up notes that were funny, imaginative, or just plain interesting. Finally, one day a handsome prince walked by. Well, hopped. He'd changed himself into his frog guise so that he could get around without people bothering him, but when he read the messages on Foo's board, he couldn't stop laughing at the funny ones and thinking about the interesting ones. So the prince, Gorf, changed back into a human and replied to some of Foo's topics.

A villager saw him and came over to see what was so interesting on this bulletin board. She didn't seem to be interested in the jokes or theatre topics that the Prince replied to so she started to walk away. Then her eye caught on something interesting. The word "sheep". Bo stopped and read the message carefully. Then she plucked a feather from the duck she was carrying, sharpened it, and wrote a message back to Foo.

It's not important what she said, most people wouldn't understand the intricacies of taking care of sheep, but Foo's message had got her attention and she knew she had to say something. If you're still interested, here's what the note said: "Dear Foo, I appreciate your concern, but I must tell you that being around sheep a lot doesn't mean you grow wool. It's a common misconception, but the wool you see me wearing has been sheared off a sheep and is not connected to my body. So, no, if you sheared me, or took off my sheep's coat, I would not be naked. Again, thank you for your concern and for the chance to set the record straight."

So this is how Foo's Village Bulletin Board got started. Soon, everyone was talking to Foo when they saw her in the village, and when they didn't, they'd just sharpen a feather and get to writing. So everyone found out what a pretty, smart and nice girl Foo was. And everyone started talking to each other, even the shy Prince Gorf.

Now, I get deeply embarrassed looking back at this writing, and if I were on the other end of GPT, I would have told myself to burn it and forget that I ever wrote it. But GPT doesn't hate me as much as I do. It said that I should keep the names and wordplay, the tone, the humor, and the structure, but that I needed to polish the pacing and clarity, tone consistency, and to strengthen the ending rhythm. I kind of disagree about the wordplay and the humor -- I think that I used those things as a defense mechanism back then, but I really liked the idea that my story was about something -- communication.

Communication is still something I struggle with (exactly the trait you want, as a writer). Foo's bulletin board was basically how I felt about running my own message board back in the day, but in a fairytale setting instead of the internet. So, when I thought about revising this story, I thought about why Foo would need a message board. Even children back in the olden days had jobs, so she would have had to be, like, a bored merchant's wife or something, and that wasn't interesting, so I made her an astronomer, and I gave her a purpose for posting (writing weather reports and horoscopes). 

And, I wanted to explore how short I could make the story and how long I could go, so this turned into a project. I have a 50 word version, 100 words, 200 words, 400 words (basically doubling word count starting at 50). GPT helped me with all of these versions because I really struggle with structural things. I know the tone I want to capture and the character motivation comes really easy to me, but actual plot evades me. And something like flash fiction is its own beast, so GPT helped me edit the shortest versions to where they make sense. I did get stuck on the 800-word version, so that's what I wanted to work on today. I want to get up to 1600 words so that I can use the story as a sample or my Fiverr portfolio. That will be six versions. I would stop at five versions, but I already have two 800 word samples in the portfolio and a 3700-word story, so I'd like something in the middle there. 

Anyway, this post has already gotten long, so I'm going to work on the 800-word version in a separate post. 

A Thousand Auras

I thought it was time to start exploring some of the thousand Auras. The Aura of our world had tiny magical gold stud earrings that read her mind and take her to worlds she's interested in visiting. Most Auras that she runs across don't have the earrings, but those aren't the only differences. Here are some versions of Aura that we'll  probably meet in A Thousand Auras (the novel) if we ever get around to writing it.

Our Aura's full name is Aurora Borealis Hamptington, will change to Hampington-Hale in any universe where Britney marries Colin. In our universe, Britney and Colin are not married yet, not sure when/if they will be.

Britney is Aura's adoptive mother in most universes. She's a little person, fashion designer, not naturally maternal, but her kids would not guess that.

Darcy is Aura's birth mother, only keeps her in one universe. (Darcy is a mermaid and Aura was born with legs instead of a tail and no gills at all, so raising her is difficult, especially since Darcy was a teen mom and already kind of on her own.)

Miss Snark's Formula for Creating a Hook

Miss Snark was the pseudonym of former literary agent, Janet Reid. Eventually, Janet Reid started her own blog under her own name. I definitely recommend it for anyone who wants to publish traditionally, but I am sad that Miss Snark's original blog is gone. 

Miss Snark used to do something that Janet Reid never did on her blog, called a "Crap-O-Meter", where she'd critique your query letter and first 500 words of your novel (Janet Reid only critiqued queries). I found it invaluable to comb through her critiques and see what other writers were doing wrong. 

I actually got to participate in the last two Crap-O-Meters. (She liked the queries, passed on both excerpts due to the writing.) Her critiques of my writing specifically were very helpful but she had literally hundreds of submissions that I read through, picking up tips.

She really demystified good writing and was funny and articulate while doing it. I was glad to see that she retained her "snark" when she started a new blog under her own name, but Miss Snark will always hold a special place in my heart.

All of that to say, Miss Snark had a formula for writing a Hook that Janet Reid did not ever post on her blog, as far as I can tell. So, I wanted to share that here. I saw a couple of other people with blogs did the same, but you can never have it in too many places. The internet is not as forever as we want to think it is.

Here's the formula:

X is the main guy; he wants to do:

Y is the bad guy; he wants to do:
they meet at Z and all L breaks loose.
If they don't resolve Q, then R starts and if they do it's L squared.

Basically, who are the main characters, what are their goals, what are the stakes?  

I will probably never publish traditionally, so I don't need to write query letters, but this is so helpful for figuring out what would go on the back of the book. Also, to be honest, I could always figure out who the characters were and what they wanted, but never what they actually did in a story. This formula forced me to come up with a plot.

Enjoy!

The Ghost

This is a special one, folks. I'm going to share a distilled version of myself. I am not editing this, I am just posting it in all of it's 2007-Crystal-Charee glory. I was going through my Google Drive, looking for old story ideas that I might have forgotten about. There were some "oh, yeah!" moments, but nothing like this. I don't remember coming up with this idea, or writing any of this, and I certainly never revisited it. But, I am proud. I'll let you enjoy and then come back with some final thoughts.

Note: I wrote this intro before fully reading this excerpt.

More Story Ideas

Okay, I was on a roll with a part four WIP of Cherie and Aura at The Atelier Cafe and then I didn't save my post properly, so I have to re-write it and now I'm questioning the whole thing, so fuck it. I'm just going to record some more story ideas until I can concentrate again.

Last time, I described:
Ice, Queen of Summer

A Thousand Auras

Britney the Dwarf Queen

Beverlee Hills Mummy

Beware the False Moon

This time, let's start with:

Subs & Normies -- Pre-Rift Era -- Coral is a mermaid born with legs instead of a tail and no gills. I think at first, I was describing it as a genetic anomaly, and it is, but I think we're going to go with evolution. Merfolk evolved out of fish, and Coral is the next step but right now it's super rare. Literally one in a million. Anyway, if her issue sounds familiar, it's because you already read about Aura (of A Thousand Auras). I actually came up with Coral way earlier and Aura was born out of wondering what would happen to a baby born without gills and with legs instead of a tail if their mother didn't have the resources to take care of it. 

Anyway, I've never really figured out Coral's story, which is why I talk about Aura more. But I'll tell you what I know. Coral is a princess. Because she has no gills, she uses a mouthpiece to breathe underwater, and grew up expressing herself through sign language. As an adult, she works with deaf merchildren. 

When she was born, her parents set her up with a little cottage in a bubble under the sea, with a human nanny. As she grew, she spent plenty of time in the palace, wearing a prosthetic tail, playing with her siblings (I forget how many, I think it was like twelve or something). I think she was initially supposed to be super emo about being different, but I think she just becomes aware of other kids and people who are different, which is why she works with deaf merchildren.

My initial storyline had to do with an evil fiance who is trying to kill her -- or seem like he's trying to kill her. I can't remember. And she had an evil sister, which I don't think I'm going to keep. Basically, what happened was, I wanted an exciting way to start a story, so I had her racing through her little village to get home before her mouthpiece stopped working entirely. But then, I was like, okay, what if this is something that keeps happening because someone is tampering with her breathing things?

Another part of her story was her mouthpiece malfunctioning, her spares are not working either, and she almost dies but Lush saves her. Anyway, there was some royal conspiracy thing supposed to be happening, but I never really developed that idea because I didn't find it as interesting as I wanted to. I think I'm more interested in relationships than politics, and also I used to believe in meritocracy, so anyone could be rich as kings if they worked hard enough. The reason I stopped making princesses the main characters in all of my stories is because I grew up and am now disgusted by classism and colonialism.

Anyway, another part of Coral's story is that she ends up being a nanny in Connecticut for a deaf six-year-old. Her mother just died and the story is a slow-burn romance between Coral and the kid's dad. The concept kind of makes me gag now that I know more about grief, but if I make it slow burn enough, and incorporate the mother as an actual character, I think I can live with it. And, no, I can't just make the mother a deadbeat a) because I am a feminist and b) because I have a short story I tried to write once called Spotted Tom about the mom's twin brother who is grieving his sister and I really want to tell that story.

Since I have been developing Aura's story with The Rift and everything, I think that I want to make Coral a part of that story. She has a connection to Lush and to royalty, so if I make Coral's parents one of the four parties that is fighting to blow the world into four mini-planets, then we'll be closer to the action. And we can have Coral's parents be kind to her and still really selfish and greedy like all royalty.

Initially, I was going to have all four parties be anonymous rich assholes, but now The King from Beverlee Hills Mummy is one, and if Coral's parents are another, that makes for some more fun worldbuilding than evil strangers. I don't think I have any other characters who are this evil, but I might be able to develop some. Cherry from The Incorruptible Man would be an interesting choice. I'll try to talk about that story in this blog post so that you'll know who I'm talking about. I haven't mentioned that story on this blog yet.

The Incorruptible Man -- Pre-Rift -- Okay, this is a love story between a con artist (Tracy) and her mark, Fred. Tracy is leaving a toxic relationship (not abusive, he's just married) and looking for a new mark to distract her from her broken heart. She's going through a Google spreadsheet that she and her con artist contacts keep updated and comes across a man's name with a million dollars (fluid amount, I'll probably change this) as his net worth and an asterisk next to his name.

The asterisk leads to a note calling him The Incorruptible Man. Apparently, he's never been involved in con that involves him doing anything shady like the Pigeon Drop or Insider Trading. He's also never fallen for a love con because he's still simping over his dead wife. He, however, has been victim of multiple cons that rely on a soft heart and a trusting nature. And, if anyone ever approaches him with an honest request for help, he'll never refuse them. The note says that he can be used for an emergency but never to take more than $5k because he can easily recover from that.

Tracy is more curious than anything else. She wants to meet this man and see if he's as incorruptible as he's described. He is. He is the best man. I would marry him if he were real and I was capable of love. It's an age-gap relationship, which could be gross, but he gives her so many orgasms that I forgive him. It's a highly erotic story, very different from what I usually write. And, initially, I thought it would be platonic, but then I thought, what would it take for me to not be grossed out by them as a couple? And the answer was, her initiating, him being a genuinely good person, and him being a very generous lover. 

When Tracy tracks him down, she finds that his house, garage, and boat are all full of uninvited house guests. Not fair, they were invited. They invited themselves. Tracy's kicks everybody out (helps them find other places to go), cleans his house, and cooks him dinner (they've already fucked). 

For his part, Fred really misses his dead wife, Janice. He briefly married his wife's best friend but that was out of shared grief and ended amicably. He barely remembers that he was even married to Eve, usually only when someone else brings it up at a cookout or something. He finds Tracy attractive because she's hot and cool, but isn't really expecting anything when she asks to stay over. A lot of people stay over. She initiates sex, and he's a little touch-starved. He ends up being so over-enthusiastic with the oral sex for her that they both forget about him before falling asleep. 

He goes to work the next day, expecting her to be gone when he gets home. (As if she would, after six or seven really good orgasms. Like, REALLY good ones. All of them.) When he comes home to beef stew bubbling on the stove and a clean, empty house, he's conflicted. The reason he lets people stay with him is out of generosity, but also out of loneliness. 

And he's not an easy mark because he's stupid, he usually knows when people are lying to get money. But if he has it, and the other person seems to need it, he's willing to give it, whether they ask honestly or not. He has a policy of never loaning money, only giving it (This is based on a rule my mom gave me. She said friendships get weird when one person owes another money. So, if you have it to give an never expect it back, give it. If you need them to repay you, you can't afford to loan it. I'll probably have his mom be based on mine.)

Regarding plot, Tracy's on the run from a bad relationship, but she was already on the run from her old madam, Cherry, who she met after running away from home. Cherry and Tracy are only a few years apart, but Cherry was already a madam when she met Tracy. Cherry taught Tracy house to con as well as how to trick. Cherry can be charming but she's incredibly controlling and when Tracy wanted to leave to start a normal life with a nice young gentleman, Cherry stole all her money and slept with her boyfriend (to prove that men ain't shit. It proved to Tracy that Cherry wasn't shit).

She left to trick and con on her own, and Cherry has tracked her down several times, always with jobs that Tracy can't afford to refuse. She leaves a cherry blossom as her calling card because she's a psycho. In this story, Cherry finds out where Tracy is, kidnaps Fred and holds him for ransom. Tracy, who has been building a real life for the very first time in her life, is pissed. 

She has an ace up her sleeve. The way she rescues Fred and earns her freedom is by telling Cherry that she knows Cherry's real name. She knows where Cherry was born, and about her brother who is in a very expensive home. Cherry is shaken, but Tracy isn't done. Tracy is not Tracy's real name, even though it's the one that she gave Cherry when they met. Tracy had stolen the identity of a person who looked like and was close enough in age, but was otherwise unrelated. And the way that she came across the identity would make Tracy's real identity untraceable. (The reader will already know this. I hate twists that the POV character knows about but keeps secret from the reader until the pivotal moment. It always feels like a betrayal.) 

Tracy takes Fred, and leaves. The story ends a few months later, with a cherry blossom left on her doorstep. This time, Tracy knows, that Cherry is asking for help, not demanding it. I'm not sure I'm going to make that clear. Maybe have it on top of a stack of cash, the same amount Cherry stole all those years ago, or ten times that amount because Cherry's whole deal is making sure that people pay ten times more than what they ever stole from her.

This was an initially going to be a standalone book not related to any of my more fantastical stories, and it still will be. Cherry is the villain in this story, but not a main character, so she'd either get her own story or just be a minor character in The Rift storyline. I like the idea of Cherry being one of the people behind The Rift because that means I've figured out three of four.  Who should be the fourth? I'm trying to think of rich assholes that I've already created, but most of my stories don't have actual villains, just obstacles.

Also, I forgot to mention, but Cherry has her own romance going on, throughout the story with one of her bodyguards. It's a totally different vibe to Fred and Tracy (BDSM where as Fred and Tracy are gourmet vanilla) but just as erotic. Cherry is a horrible person but not entirely unsympathetic. I don't think she gets a happy ending, but she will get some happy moments.

Echo of Magic -- Pre-Rift -- Addy is a princess with one major enemy:  her twin sister Echo who slipped out, fell to the floor, and slid under the bed while they were being born. Her cries are mistaken as an echo of Addy's. She grows up, blending into the other palace children and being mistaken for Addy, usually doing something wrong, like sneaking food from the pantry or wearing rags or otherwise trying to exist. One day, the real Addy gets punished instead of her. Echo feels bad but also kind of good. So, she does it on purpose.

Addy gains the reputation with the castle staff and her parents and the entire kingdom as being a troublemaker who never takes responsibility. Addy's only friend is a frog named Seymour who resides in one of the castle ponds. He's in disguise until he's old enough to be married, and he and Addy plan, for years, to marry. On the wedding day, Echo ties up Addy and takes her place. 

Growing up, Addy and Echo are frenemies, often trying to get along but one child's selfishness or mistake gets blown out of proportion. By the time they're adults, they actively hate each other. Addy is good and Echo is bad, but everyone thinks that Addy is bad and that Echo doesn't exist because Echo refuses to show herself. 

Seymour is friends with both and often councils them both to grow up. Although he loves Addy as a friend, he does (to his shame) fall in love with Echo. He intends to marry Addy, but one their wedding day, when Echo ties up Addy and takes her place, Seymour marries Echo. She kisses him and he turns human. Echo finally makes her real identity known, and the entire palace and kingdom is immediately apologetic to both princesses, showering them with affection.

Echo's suffering is soothed and she tries to make up with Addy, but now, Addy is pissed. She can't believe that Echo has been torturing her for her entire life and the response of the entire kingdom and her parents is to welcome Echo with open, forgiving arms. Their apologies don't mean much when she sees her enemy being so embraced, so she leaves the kingdom.

My original short story ended with the kiss and Echo marrying Seymour. When I thought about making it longer, I had Addy go out and try to figure out why magic is disappearing from the kingdom, only to find that it's disappearing from the world. She has her own love interest, but she has to learn to love herself before she can love him. 

I think that, maybe, now that I have lush (see Worldbuilding) as my magic system for all of my other stories, I can use it here and have the reason magic is disappearing is because the avatar is taking it all back from humans who have been abusing it. So, rather than having her restore the magic, she learns to live without it, and maybe helps other people do so, as well? 

For Echo to have survived being punted around the floor after being born and not being fed and stuff, she must have had to rely on lush to survive, so having it disappearing from the world permanently makes her sick or weak or something. Actually, what if Addy's quest was given to her by her parents and Addy agrees publicly but privately decides to find out where the magic is going in order to prevent it from returning, permanently? Then, when she realizes that it really is gone forever, she feels petty and returns to help Echo adjust.

I always intended for the girls to reconcile and go on their own adventure together. So many of my villains are based on my cousin who I loved once but who turned into a sadistic nightmare (Ahmose, Cherry, Echo). Addy is based on me, that's why she's so good the whole time. I never turned evil because I didn't want to prove to my cousin that she was right to hate me, that there was some secret evil in my heart that only she could detect, but that meant that being good always felt performative, and Addy was my chance to explore that aspect of myself. What is goodness? What is authenticity? Do you have to be perfect, in order to deserve love? That kind of stuff. Losing my mom answered a lot of those questions, for me. 

For one thing, I figured out that when other people were in pain, it was my instinct to help, not hurt. For another, I realized that choosing to perform goodness was a reflection of the kind of person I was, not just wanted to be. And, my mom was far from perfect. She was capable of great cruelty and great generosity, and when she died, I would have sold my soul to The Devil just to be able to experience three more seconds in her presence. (In fact, it was The Devil never showing up that sped me along the road to Agnosticism. That, and Jesus not showing up.) All that to say, no, you don't have to be perfect in order to be loved. Regarding deservingness, I've been loved and hated without deserving either, so "deserve" is a nonsense word to me, now.

Anyway, I have no idea what their adventure would be. In real life, my cousin stayed evil, and even got worse, so I no longer have any hope of reconciliation and don't even know what that would look like. It would be fun to explore a universe in which a character ruled by jealousy and greedy was able to reform, though. I could explore the relationship I always hoped to have with her.