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A Thread for Writers to talk about Writing


Mister Dilsby

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5 minutes ago, Just Jim said:

... neighbors now shooting back and forth across narrower parts of the river...

 

I now have an image of a person in one of those swan paddleboats shooting AK47's at other swan boats. :P

6 minutes ago, Just Jim said:

And don't even get me started on... bridges....  :0.0:

1

*Shudder*  Bridges.... Actually, this is all going to play out with the help of KerbalKonstructs... Which happens to have bridges in it! Thanks for the idea :wink:

7 minutes ago, Just Jim said:

I think it could really work!

 

Thanks!

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You know @DarkOwl57, the idea of a fractured city is pretty good. I really do like that idea. But, as always, why would such a city be struck in half? An election, a ideal? What would be causes of such a city. 

These questions don't necessarily need answers, but if you want to resolve the conflict between these two cities, you have to know why they are fighting each other.

Just throwing out some ideas. 

Happy Explosions

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9 hours ago, Just Jim said:

OK... my turn. I'll be honest, I see both good, and not so good.

Not so good, first. The terms National States of Owlia and United States of Owlia... too real life... I'm afraid United States especially might cause problems down the road.

Now... what I really, really like is the idea of River City itself... a city divided by a civil war. Not a country, or nation... but an actual city, split in half... talk about a gritty way of playing on the "Brother vs. Brother" idea... this is good!

If it were me, I would forget about the nations, and focus more on just this... a city torn in half... friend vs. friend, brother vs. brother... neighbors now shooting back and forth across narrower parts of the river...

And don't even get me started on... bridges....  :0.0:

I think it could really work!

sort of like Gondor?

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9 hours ago, Alpha 360 said:

You know @DarkOwl57, the idea of a fractured city is pretty good. I really do like that idea. But, as always, why would such a city be struck in half? An election, a ideal? What would be causes of such a city. 

These questions don't necessarily need answers, but if you want to resolve the conflict between these two cities, you have to know why they are fighting each other.

Just throwing out some ideas. 

Happy Explosions

Well, in my story, I own the "Country" just north of the island in that bay (In Kerbal Powers, we call that little land of war and abomination "Baskay"). My plan is that River City just happens to be split in two by the river, the only natural border the two sides could fight over. This leads to River City becoming a living he-double toothpick for everyone and everything in it, as bombers, tanks, heavy and light artillery, and everything else barrage the city in an attempt to get through. (See: Stalingrad, WW2)

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17 hours ago, Alpha 360 said:

the idea of a fractured city is pretty good. I really do like that idea. But, as always, why would such a city be struck in half? An election, a ideal? What would be causes of such a city

An inter-space program rivalry that's getting slightly out of hand (see: twitter)? I've wondered that about the space programs in Florida in our world, what it's like to do a job where huge amounts of work hinge on just a few high-pressure, highly-visible moments. And at those moments, to be practically elbow-to-elbow with your major rivals in a market that's not necessarily big enough for both of you. So definitely +1 for the divided city setting - @DarkOwl57, get writing! :wink:

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On ‎2‎/‎18‎/‎2018 at 12:08 AM, SiriusRocketry said:

But I can't finish it. I just haven't got the inspiration!

I understand the feeling like you don't have to drive to write. I find the best thing to do is not jump to a different story, but to change up your story. Drastically. Therefore my stories can get a little disjointed, but I keep writing on them. 

Happy Explosions!

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  • 3 weeks later...

I'm running some deep thought experiments within my swan-verse, with a reference to a couple of tvtropes how-tos Believable Aliens, Design a Mind, and a dash of BaO Morality. All of which are run through The Translation Convention.

Do we have an canon, or dominant fanon, on what the kerbal number base is? My reflex, counting fingers on the hand, is base 8. Though a quick alternative would be base 16, assuming 4 toes on each foot. 

 

 

 

 

 

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2 hours ago, steuben said:

Do we have an canon, or dominant fanon, on what the kerbal number base is? My reflex, counting fingers on the hand, is base 8. Though a quick alternative would be base 16, assuming 4 toes on each foot. 

Seeing as all in-game displays are in base-10 as are visible displays on Kerbal-produced stock in-game objects, I'd venture to say that's canon.

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I'd half thought of that. However, I filed that as translation convention at least in terms of game play. Having to learn another language and script on top of having to learn rocket science and orbital mechanics would have been nasty and mean. For example, in the hitchhiker I see "Food", "Not Food", "Refuse", etc. The kerbals see <beat> "Food", "Not Food", "Refuse" but the kerbalese words and in the script they use.

 

 

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1 hour ago, Alpha 360 said:

I was wondering, would it be okay if I post in increments a story of a kerbal called Mr. Kerman and receive support and advice for the series? 

Sure, go for it, I'd be interested seeing what happens!

On 07/03/2018 at 4:48 AM, steuben said:

I'm running some deep thought experiments within my swan-verse, with a reference to a couple of tvtropes how-tos Believable Aliens, Design a Mind, and a dash of BaO Morality. All of which are run through The Translation Convention.

Do we have an canon, or dominant fanon, on what the kerbal number base is? My reflex, counting fingers on the hand, is base 8. Though a quick alternative would be base 16, assuming 4 toes on each foot. 

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah... Like Kuzzter said, all displays are in base 10, but Kerbals themselves won't have the capability to do so... Unless they were taught... By us.

The Kerbals don't know that they're reading English, but the theorists among us can and do read it on a daily basis, looks like I just found inspiration for Jeb's Ride Chapter 2!

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On 6 March 2018 at 6:56 PM, Kuzzter said:

Seeing as all in-game displays are in base-10 as are visible displays on Kerbal-produced stock in-game objects, I'd venture to say that's canon.

Also, I don't think there's necessarily a correlation between number of fingers and preferred mathematical base. The Babylonians used a base 60 system (which still survives for timekeeping) and no matter how hard I squint, I can't find 60 fingers and toes. :)

If the kerbals found base 10 to work well for their maths for whatever reason, I think they'd just go with it.

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Alright here goes nothing.

Spoiler

The reason I am putting this up here is because I view myself as a mediocre writer, so I would like advice and consul on how my writing feels to people other than myself. 

Also, the Endeavor Mission mentioned here is a trip to the equivalent of Moho. The problem is that I didn't know that then. :kiss:

The Story of Mr. Kerman - First Chapter

Spoiler

I always was royalty. Born of royal parents, raised in a royal court. Some might say I was pampered, but royalty is never pampered. Only served.

                I remember when revolts all throughout the world threatened our security. Just across the channel a democratic republic sprung up out of a bloody revolution. Above us, a communist regime set itself up in the Northern Realm. I only aged 15 years when my father was forced to give up his throne to a bloodthirsty crowd.

                Father was a good king, but the cry of a fake freedom had inflamed the mob, railed the crowd, and raised armies of peasants to march down upon us. They were treated well by us, but they turned and attacked us. They took our lawful places, our rightful places.

                Father forced me to hide my name. He gave me the name, Mr. Kerman. I was only to go by that name. I was sent overseas, to the last palaces of the kings who faced rebellion and bankruptcy. I watched from a far as Father was taken away from his throne, his crown removed from his head in the name of the people. He represented the people, but the people turned back on him.

                I watched as the monarchies of the world collapsed, turning either democratic in name or communist in nature. As the world broke down, the world leaders took two difference sides. In the name of the people voted by the people, or in the name of the people who own the people. Communist and Democratic.

                I watched as these two ideals dueled, in a fight to win superiority. Communists fighting aggressively, the Democracies fighting defensively. I watched this fight for the 5 years. I kept myself out of politics, watching for when the monarchies would be able to begin again. I haven’t seen a single opportunity.

                Finally, I tired of watching the great duel of nations and looked to a place where no politics very walked. I went to south pole to stay with researchers who studied Kerbin’s past and future. But that time soon came to an end and I left for the democratic nations.

                I walked into a science center where they were looking for kerbonauts. They were some obscure company, but not knowing better I signed on with them. I trained hard and became an engineer. Then they shoved me into a crack-pot rocket and took off towards Minmus.

                As you know, the mission failed while I was still in orbit of Minmus. I sent out a distress signal and waited for 10 days inside my capsule. Not knowing if I was ever going to be rescued.

                But I was rescued. Obberty and Elibert Kerman found me and picked me up. I liked the look of them, nothing crafty about them so I gave them the preliminary information about myself and settled down for the ride home.

                Now I am a KASA kerbonaut, working along side the entire kerbonaut crew. I believe that Roni suspects that I might be Ollusionia but has no evidence. I can tell that she grew up in a hard life, possibly in Ollusionia, but I don’t know. That’s not my only problem now though. My father’s usurpers are coming for me now.   

T – 30 days until Endeavor Mission Leaves for Dres (I wrote this story in an alternate solar system, so when you hear these names don't make assumptions)

“Hello Mr. Kerman.” The security guard bowed slightly, and I entered the conference room. It was a large open room with a table which could seat 20 people with ease. Instead of royal purple lining the walls, banners with the KASA symbol hung from the ceiling.

                The chairs were simple, with leather seats and backs. I settled into one chair, near the front. There were a couple other kerbals sitting down. There was Gene Kerman, the kerbonaut director, and Mortimer, the director of the space program and famed businessman.

                I tried to remember how global cooperation had been achieved. I believed that Mortimer and Jerry Kerman withheld oil from all countries that refused to help fund the space-program and regularly send new kerbonauts over to KASA.

                Now that nuclear technology was coming on stage, and the lack of uranium in Jerrie’s storage, it looked like this brief period of global cooperation was coming to a close.

                I didn’t recognize the third or fourth kerbal at the table. I assumed that these were the kerbals I was supposed to meet.

                Finally, Roni, Eli and Obberty Kerman entered the room. Eli sat by me while Roni and Obberty kept their distance, moving towards Gene Kerman. Maybe I was going to be transferred to a different part of the space agency. A remote and distant one probably.

                Gene Kerman cleared his throat, “Mr. Kerman. We need you to reveal more about yourself than what you have presently.”

                I leaned forward and said, “I have submitted a paper on who I am. You should reference this paper to discover more about me.”

                Gene shook his head, “You have filled that paper full of lies.” He spat out the last word, “These gentlekerbs have proved it to us.”

                Ah, that was who spilled the beans. I looked at the two of them intently. They didn’t flinch. In fact, they returned my gaze. They had no conscious about spilling the beans. Which meant they meant harm against me.

                “I have the right to remain silent.”

                “Mr. Kerman. You are a Kerbonaut. You are expected to be open and crystal clear on your previous life. You are a role model for our country.”

                “Don’t speak to me of countries.” I replied. I ground my teeth. “I had enough of them.”

                One of the kerbals spoke now. Now that I had a good-look at him, I realized that he was a native of my country. Tall with dark green skin.

                “We cannot keep you on as a kerbonaut if you refuse to give us even basic information about yourself.”

                I crossed my arms, “You want me to put my entire life on paper? Paper that could be used against me.”

                “That is being unreasonable, Mr.” Mortimer was speaking now, “You owe us something after we rescued you.”

                “I am now a kerbonaut for KASA, is more necessary?”

                “Yes, yes indeed. How do we know that you are a communist or something else?”

                “I am royalty. That’s all you need to know; out of respect of my rank could you stop asking questions?”

                “Mr., You have 30 days to submit a form on your past life or else we will fire you on the day of the Endeavor mission. The next day everyone will wake up, and you will now longer be on the roster. Another kerbal will take your place. Do you understand?” Mortimer hit the table. The resounding thud echoed around the room. The native and his friend were literally rubbing their hands in glee.

                If I stayed on Kerbin, then I would be eliminated. It was that simple. I needed to get onto the Endeavor Mission.

Happy Explosions!

 

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depends... are you going for the unreliable narrator approach? you might have some good ground work laid for it. the other direction would be that airlocks + space + payment to right person = dead and the body never found. If he thinks he's safe off the ground... he's mildly delusional, which would go back to the unreliable narrator. or he just thinks he going to be less unsafe up there.  A lot will depend on what genre you're aiming for,  and what your end game will be.

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It's definitely an interesting setup. Hard to say much more than that after one chapter but I'm intrigued, so that's probably a good start. :)  Your protagonist came across (to me, and possibly deliberately) as a fairly unlikeable fellow, so I'm curious to see where that goes too!

One small suggestion - depending how long it is, it might be an idea to spin the story out into its own thread.

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I've probably mentioned this before but I follow a writing blog called 'Writing about Writing'. I like it - the author is pretty opinionated but I find that a lot of what he writes resonates with me. Anyhow, one of his recent posts is on fan-fiction and I thought some folks would be interested in reading it. A word of caution - this chap is most certainly not forum-friendly.  As mentioned, he's opinionated and his language has a tendency to be robust. You have been duly warned. On the other hand, I have to admit that I enjoyed this paragraph (lightly edited for forum sensibilities).

Quote

Fanfiction is done for the love of writing. It's done for the fun of creation. For the enjoyment of the craft and the characters and their journeys. It is done without regard for payment of any kind and often despite social censure from judgemental little snots who paint them all with the same brush and call them parasites, but who, in all likelihood. aren't doing half as much of their "real" writing. It is done from the same impetus with which we've been reimagining and retelling stories since the beginning of our species–it is actually owning an "idea" and holding rights over it (particularly as a source of income) that is the fairly new development. Most people won't like it, some may be snarky about it, there will be no "tangible" rewards, and yet folks write it anyway–just to see it in the world. For me there could be few acts of writing done for purer artistic reasons.

So there you have it. We're all pure artists on this thread. :) 

Edited by KSK
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Alright. Thanks for the positive feed-back!

On ‎3‎/‎14‎/‎2018 at 2:29 AM, steuben said:

are you going for the unreliable narrator approach?

Yes. I really like making the biased narrator. I believe it adds a lot to the story and helps you see the story from his perspective.

On ‎3‎/‎14‎/‎2018 at 10:31 PM, KSK said:

Your protagonist came across (to me, and possibly deliberately) as a fairly unlikeable fellow, so I'm curious to see where that goes too!

Yes.... He's a guy who has an......interesting past. :wink: Just as a hint on a reoccurring theme. 

Here's chapter 2. Hope you guys like it. Critic it to your heart's content. 

Spoiler

I left the conference room, running over my options.

1.       Tell of my identity as the true Ollusionia King and face the option of death

2.       Stow away on the Endeavor Mission and hope they have enough spare life-support to keep all of us alive

a.       Alternative idea is to replace one kerbonaut by making him/her unable to launch aboard, therefore making sure that there is sufficient life-support.

3.       Leave the Kerbonaut Corps and go into hiding, once again as Mr. Kerman.

After running these three options in my mind, I settled on the second one. Anyway, if everything works out and I return unharmed, then KASA would protect me and I would be safe.

                Now, do I enclose this information to somebody I trust, or do I don’t tell anybody and do it alone?

                No. I couldn’t jump onto a spaceship bound for Dres on my own. Too difficult. Who do I trust then? Eli seemed sympathetic to me. Roni suspected me already, so it wouldn’t be prudent to give any evidence supporting that. Obberty looked to be a simple kerbonaut, who might be well skilled, didn’t win any prizes for intelligence. Assey, Irfred, and Billy were unknown values. I didn’t even know their backgrounds, for they were working on training for a soon-to come asteroid mission.

                I walked out of the astronaut complex, I still didn’t know why it was named that, and started towards the VAB. As I was an engineer, I knew some of the engineers working there. As I ran over the names and faces, I realized that I could find an ally among them.

                A very roguish engineer who claimed to have hit Roni’s car that she was stealing on accident and was the only reason she was still sane. I never took him seriously but now I saw how I could use him. Roni Kerman would have access with the kerbonaut corps as well as the boarding tower while the engineer, his name didn’t come to me yet, could smuggle me aboard.

                Now, what did I have to bargain with the two of them? The engineer could be successfully bribed, I believed. He was always looking forward, and 15,000 credits would greatly sway his opinions.

                Roni on the other hand, was a harder nut to crack. She lost her desire for advancing herself up the social ladder. How would I get her to help me? Maybe I could enlist Elibert after all. Make some calculated, social moves towards her and I probably could convince her to help me out.

                Now, how was I going to smuggle onto the Endeavor. I probably should get on-board the next module launch. That module launch was in 2 weeks. Then how would I keep myself secreted up there while my disappearance is noted, especially by my enemies.

                Elibert could disappear herself, then when that happens they would assume that we ran off together. Along with a note in my handwriting stating that fictional occurrence, I wouldn’t be searched for and my enemies would be hard-pressed to find me.

I stopped outside the VAB door, contemplating my next moves. Then with a surge of energy I opened the door and went in. I believe that for any kerbonaut, visiting the VAB is a sacred thing. Like visiting your wife’s parent’s house. Something to treat with caution and reverence for creating such beauties.

As mandatory, a rocket was under-construction with all the customary sparks flying from angle-grinders, clanging and creaking sounds of wrenches and hammers on steel. Everything the construction of a rocket needed to create the atmosphere.

The engineer in question, Harjo Kerman I remembered, was lounging against the wall closest to me. I walked causally towards him. Years under-cover had perfected my acting skills, so I believed I could fool the greatest detective, and defeat the smartest police officer.

“Harjo. Nice to see you.” Little did he know I meant it literary.

“Oh! Mr. Kerman.” He took an elaborate bow which only himself could make up. He obviously never smelled or sensed a royal court room in his life.

“Harjo. I’m looking for a crafty kerbal who can do a few, let’s say less and averagely legal activities. Oh, and this kerbal must be an engineer. Intelligent, for I cannot allow for any possibility of failure.”

Harjo looked at me, practically slobbering over my lavish praises. Waiting for the moment for me to notice his existence and the apparent applicability of my descriptions to himself. Well, they only applied in his mind.

                I steadily continued onwards, “Yes. This kerbal has to be capable of holding his tongue if captured by aggressors. Yes, and he must be capable in his field of work. He needs to be a professional engineer presently working on the Xerxes’ Heavy.”

                Finally, I decided that I was torturing this poor fellow, so I looked at him for a second. He was now literary slobbering, that’s weird.

                “Ah, I forgot. You are all of these things. Now. How would you like to take this assignment?”

                “What are you paying?” He asked.

                “5,000 before the operation, and 10,000 afterwards.”

                “Deal.” We shook hands. I deemed him not intelligent enough to double-cross his shake. Too young.

                “What’s the problem?” He asked now.

                “I need you to get me aboard Endeavor. Preferably before the main crew launches.”

                Harjo laughed, “That’s simple. I can do it. Is anyone else in this?”

                “Nobody yet. I won’t share all my plans with you, but I will give you enough, so you know what to do. I just need you to obey my orders when the time comes.”

                He nodded.

                I walked out of the VAB with a spring to my step. Harjo was an easy catch. Now I needed to find Elibert Kerman and see how gullible she was.

                I found her walking near the Astronaut Complex. She looked dreamily out towards the horizon. It was growing late, and the sun was slowly descending from its throne in the sky. A perfect moment for a ‘romantic’ time.

                I had done a couple of seductions in the courts, to gain political power or to mask my motives. In fact, I had been seduced once on accident. That was a messy situation that required me to leave the country. Luckily it located in Translanivia, and nobody listens to Translanivia so my reputation was secure.

                I couldn’t let what was left of my emotions to run wild on this attempt. I needed to be cool and calculated but show evident admiration so that she would have the feeling of impressing me. Not that that ever happened, except that one time I dare not mention.

                I snuck up on her, then slipped my arm around her shoulders. She startled, but when she saw it was me she leaned on me slightly. Then I felt that everything would be alright. I would survive, and maybe afterwards I might marry this beautiful kerbette leaning against me.

                But as all beautiful moments, they didn’t last long enough.

Happy Explosions

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