Welcome, Brave Writers.
O Writers! Do you Suffer from Writer's-Block? The Fiction-Writing Directorate can Help!
Our Exhortations will Inspire you; our Exercises will Strengthen you; and the Ancient Art of Shiva Nata will Enlighten you.
Read! Write! Flourish!
Or Else.
Subsiste statim sermonem et scribe.
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By Ethelie, on December 28th, 2010%
O my little Holly-Berries!
I write today’s Post, the Last of the Year, aquiver with Excitement.
Our Year in Review
O my little Mistletoe! What an Extraordinary year for the Fiction-Writing Directorate. In February we broke Centuries of staid Silence and stepped out into the InterWebs so that we might further Pursue our Mission. Since then, we Released our Manifesto, created our first Course and befriended the Giant Squid. To our Despair, and the Beastmaster’s Delight, no less than Thirteen unfortunate Writers were Devoured entire by the Hounds, and Dozens more now sport finely crafted Prosthetic Limbs to replace the ones upon which the . . . → Read More: The Year in Review
By Boggins, on December 14th, 2010%
Before Miss Ethelie left on her yearly Ice Hotel vacation, she put me in charge of cleaning up the Directorate webspace. This site you’re readin’ right now as you gnaw on your biscuits.
I said “Woman, I don’t know the first thing about fixin webspaces,” but she just ta-ta’d me and had one of her pet sherpas carry her bags to the zeppelin and left.
I sat in front before one of Gustav’s sinful computer boxes and contemplated the webspace. It looked worse than the crawlspace underneath Mama’s porch with the pile of dead rats and Mittens the cat’s outdoor litter box.
“Well, . . . → Read More: I Shined Up the Ol’ Directorate
By Ethelie, on November 22nd, 2010%
The Directorate is filled with the Wails of Agents who struggle with their NaNoWriMo Novels. Oh, to be sure, many Agents have flourished this Month, typing Hundreds of Thousands of exquisite words. We applaud them!
But others, despite the Directorate’s best Efforts, languish. It is almost as if the Ungrateful Wretches do this out of Spite.
An Example of a Struggling Writer
Let me Present to you the example of Agent Sweetman-Gross. This Unfortunately Hyphenated agent came to me Yesterday, weeping. She was nearly twenty-thousand words Behind, and doubted she would ever Succeed. Indeed, I shared her Doubts. She was a Terrible sight to . . . → Read More: On the Merits of Giving Up
By Gustav, on November 5th, 2010%
Concerning the Evils of NaPhreAppMo
Gustav
November, not April, is the cruelest month, for it brings the horror that is NaPhreAppMo: National Phrenologist Apprenticeship Month, in which hundreds of thousands of would-be phrenologists declare themselves “apprentices” and go out into the world, shaving the heads of strangers and creating bad drawings of the features of their skulls.
If these erstwhile phrenologists cannot find willing volunteers, they either chloroform the unwary, or simply invent drawings of imaginary people and unicorns. I myself do not leave Directorate headquarters during the entire month of November, lest I be accosted by an earnest young protophrenologist.
They then believe . . . → Read More: On the Horrors of People Liking Things I Do Not
By Lida, on November 2nd, 2010%
Darlings! It is time for us to talk.
In the Bible, after some dramatics with a wind strong enough to break rocks, a terrible earthquake, and a mighty fire, God finally takes his audience into consideration speaks to the prophet Elijah in a “still small voice.”
We all have a still small voice that speaks to us, I believe. Though perhaps only biblical prophets hear the voice of their God, everyone can hear something, if they are quiet enough. Have you listened? You may need to listen carefully to hear what whispers behind your customarily raucous thoughts. Some things make it easier to . . . → Read More: Concerning the Still Small Voice
By Ethelie, on October 31st, 2010%
O my little March Hares! In a few short Hours, it will be November, which means Novel-Writing Season, under the Gentle Auspices of NaNoWriMo. For the Benefit of the Uninitiated, participants must Write 50,000 words in the month of November. Some Writers report tremendous amounts of Fun occuring.
The Directorate is of Two Minds concerning this Phenomenon. One mind Relishes the thought of so many Brave Writers simply Writing. Yet another Mind trembles: for each Writer that completes their allotted Words, hundreds — perhaps even Thousands — of other writers Perish in the Attempt, and their abandoned Words fester, and soon Rise . . . → Read More: The NaNoWriMo Survival Guide
By Gustav, on October 27th, 2010%
Gustav
“You must help me!” cried Agent Frederick. The young agent, normally so self-composed, sat in my study, weeping missishly.
“Pull yourself together, lad!” I said, sternly. He took a deep breath, and wiped his eyes on his coat-sleeve (the one covering his prosthetic arm) and blew his nose grotesquely. “What is it this time?”
“I have too many things to do!” he said, and his lower lip began to tremble. Indeed, the lad was quite busy: in addition to his writing, he was engaged as the phrenologist’s apprentice, supported his consumptive sister by obtaining corpses for an anatomist, volunteered in the Temperance . . . → Read More: The Phrenologist’s Apprentice: The Directorate Guide to Getting Enough Done
By Lida, on September 11th, 2010%
O Brave Writers!
May I ask how your writing is progressing? Is it flowing along deliciously, like a river of chocolate that rewards you with sweetness every time you dip into it? Does it, like a river, carry you along, displaying magnificent new vistas around each bend? Does your writing, like a river, lull you to sleep each night with the sound of its gentle flow and the wind amidst the rushes? Ah, what bliss! You, my darling, are the luckiest of writers.
But I am afraid this post is not for you.
Today I write to all the other writers: those who are . . . → Read More: An Exhortation: On Your Terrible Shame
By Ethelie, on August 18th, 2010%
O my little Spring Onions! I read a Most Remarkable beginning, and felt I must Share it with you.
In the tiny lifeboat, she and the alien fuck endlessly, relentlessly.
My goodness.
This is, of course, Ms. Johnson’s highly Esteemed tale, Spar, a heartwarming first contact story. Why, every time I think how Ms. Johnson’s heroine and the alien overcame their Vast Differences, Over and Over and Over, I feel an odd Trembling and Excitement which I am sure are due only to the Noblest of Sentiments.
I cannot help but Admire the Skill with which Ms. Johnson sets the Scene: with only a . . . → Read More: Training Exercise #29: Beginnings Again
By Gustav, on August 16th, 2010%
Gustav
Good evening, Brave Writers. Today I wish to share with you the cautionary tale of a young writer named — ah, let us call her Felicia Alicia McPecia, to protect what scanty shreds of privacy she retains. (I am well aware that this weak pseudonym will do little to deter astute readers from discerning her true identity; I can only beg you to allow Miss McPecia to live out her days of squalor and ignominy unmolested.) Her tale is not, as you might think, a warning against the cruel critics who drove her to drink, gambling, and madness, but a . . . → Read More: An Exhortation: On Second Thoughts
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