Setting Descriptions

Story Empire

Ciao, amici. Today’s post is a continuation of the Story Bible series. So far, we’ve had an overview and discussed the series premise and character sheets. Today, we’ll cover settings.

Setting Sheet
If you thought the character sheet was easy, you’ll love this one. It’s even simpler. And, if you aren’t creating brand new worlds (like a sci-fi or fantasy author might), you have even fewer fields to fill out. (Or, if you have OCD tendencies like me, you’ll fill them out anyway, but it’ll only take a few seconds.)

If you did an extensive and exhaustive job of describing the story world in the series premise section, you’ll already have a head start on completing this sheet.

I created a simple table in Word. If you’d like to download it (to use as-is or change it to suit your needs), just click on the graphic.

The first row is the…

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Space Between… #Poetry

flights of fancy.jpg

 

SPACE BETWEEN

Would you give your life to save me

From the space between the space?

A place where worlds bounce us from place to place.

Punishment for sins long forgotten

Crimes they say we have committed

The guardians do not listen to our pleas

No innocent is ever sent here, they say

They wait for you to be beguiled

By the beauty in some of these worlds

I have passed through ugly worlds

Where people suffer unimaginable torment

Too hideous to be written here

So far, my time here has been uneventful

I hear snatches of conversation

Some hunger for food that never comes

Others try to kill each other

My innocence falls on deaf ears

If I am snatched from one of these worlds

I will be lost forever, with no hope

Of being sent back to my own world

I heard someone say that one day

An innocent will come to rescue those trapped here

Is one enough to explode these worlds apart?

Is there an innocent to come looking for me

One who would be brave enough to step into Purgatory?

©Anita Dawes

Are Your Decisions Based on What you Eat?

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I read something strange the other day, something that really made me stop and think. It has been discovered that being hungry actually impairs your judgement.

Here are the articles that prompted this post.

“New research is discovering how metabolic state and the nutritional quality of food influence risk-taking and decision-making behaviours in animals and humans. The metabolic state can have a serious impact on risk-taking and decision-making in humans and animals…”

When Hunger Leads to Anger: Noticing External Influences on Mood

By Nate Kornell Ph.D

Internal states, like hunger, affect us more than we imagine.

The decision to grant a prisoner parole is not something to be taken lightly. It should be considered as seriously and objectively as possible. As a new study of Israeli judges shows, however, these decisions are influenced by a lot more than the lofty ideals of justice. They’re also influenced by snacks.

The researchers investigated the percentage of parole cases that were given favorable rulings. They found that as mornings wore on, the judges became less favorable. But after a meal break, they became more favorable again–followed by the same downward trajectory. The Economist has a figure that says it all: Hungry judges give less favorable rulings.

Perhaps it’s not surprising that people get grumpy when they are hungry. (There’s even a term for it: hangry.) But two things are interesting here. First, hunger had huge effects on a decision that should be, and presumably was, taken very seriously. The scale of the finding itself is pretty amazing. Second, like the judges in the study, most of us underestimate the effect hunger has on behavior.


Could this be why I have been having trouble concentrating lately? Ever since I reinstated the diet in order to take some of the weight from my ever-complaining hip, I have been unable to string any decent thoughts together. The more I try, the harder it seems to get.

The current WIP has suffered, and even the everyday stuff has been difficult to assimilate. Maybe we shouldn’t deprive ourselves of anything, in order to think and feel our absolute best?

I mean, we all know that a good meal usually leads to a good mood?

Anita has just reminded me that years ago many artists ended up starving in a garret somewhere. Makes you wonder which came first, poverty or starvation?

I can believe that depriving ourselves of anything will have a detrimental effect on our performance, as everything is more difficult if you are tired or hungry. I can still remember the torture when I tried to give up smoking. Luckily, a mild heart attack solved that problem and I stopped immediately!

Personally, I don’t want to revert to my previous gluttony for my arthritis demands there must be less of me. So, is there a solution to this quandary?

There has to be a way to convince my subconscious self that I am perfectly happy with the odd hunger pang, and that it needs to ignore the mountain of stress that erupts every now and then like Vesuvius.

Maybe then I can get back to writing 1000+ words a day!

 

 

 

Figment

Anneberly Andrews

steampunk-1809590_960_720 Photo Credit: via Pixabay

My eyes fluttered, just as nausea rose up through my belly to the top of my tongue. Confusion devoured the little bit of awareness that was lurking in the shadows. As I attempted to flutter past the blurry darkness of unconsciousness, and come into some semblance of wakefulness, pressure built deep within my throat, pushing behind my teeth. Instinct forced my head to slightly turn to the left just as bile shoved passed my lips, spraying like a water hose that had just been turned on for the first time after being dormant during the cold and freezing months.

Consciousness gradually heightened as my eyes rapidly flickered. I could feel my extremities stretched out in the shape of a star. My body bound by unyielding restraints on my ankles and wrists, and a loose yet inflexible restraint hovering above my throat. While a flat, unforgiving, cold…

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Empty Promises

Painting Poetry in Motion

The following tale is my response to this month’s speculative fiction writing prompt posted by D. Wallace Peach. Link to her original post here.

Pixabay Image by Brigitte Werner

My quest for self improvement began with good intentions. But you know what they say about that. And they – whoever they are – were right, at least in my case.

The beginning was unremarkable, certainly not a decision with any associated labor. I saw the ad for the Promise, a new innovation in body art, and suddenly understood the answer to a question I hadn’t consciously asked. I’d been unhappy, but resigned. Until I saw myself in the Promise, the promise of how I could be.

Maybe it will sound strange to you. But when I saw the picture – the photo of who I could be – I filled with a previously unfamiliar sensation. My usually hollow emotional…

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Smorgasbord Posts from Your Archives – #PotLuck – My rug-cleaning fiasco by D. Wallace Peach

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

Welcome to the new series of Posts from Your Archives, where bloggers put their trust in me. In this series, I dive into a blogger’s archives and select four posts to share here to my audience.

If you would like to know how it works here is the original post:https://smorgasbordinvitation.wordpress.com/2019/04/28/smorgasbord-posts-from-your-archives-newseries-pot-luck-and-do-you-trust-me/

I am delighted that fantasy author D. Wallace Peach has given me permission to dive into her archives and I have had a amazing time selecting four posts to share with you. This week another from Diana’s Musings Categories..

My rug-cleaning fiasco by D. Wallace Peach

Image Pixabay

Once again, I jump in feet first and use my brain second. Mistakes and failures are great teachers, and I seem to repeatedly rely on them to make life interesting.

This one involves not writing, but rugs.

It started with Tornado Boy (age barely-4) who stayed at our house last…

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A Changeling King

World’s in the Making

I dream of the world outside, of trees.

People say they are green, some say they are brown.

I think they are both.

Like I, both human and a monster.

I live below the dungeons, below the royal kitchen and way below the throne. That is where my family sits. Ruling over a whole kingdom hiding a secret.

I am their secret.

A maze created explicitly for a beast like I. A monstrosity concocted by my own mother and father. An accident. From birth, I was raised to be better, to be faster to be the best. A son worthy of a King, a God but I was neither.

So here I sit on a wooden stool throne, a disfigured prince in the centre of a maze, alone.

A murderer.

Every first day of a new month. A new group of young men and women shall enter my maze and…

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My Computer Crashed!

Mitch Teemley

toon-1073Well, OK, it didn’t exactly “crash.” I mean, there was no hole in the wall. There were no other bleeding computer owners standing around threatening to sue my pants off. It was a few years back (I’m so much wiser now): I’d somehow managed to rather uncleverly (OK, stupidly) delete a massive number of important files in one swell foop!

I took it to an IT expert who was pretty sure he could recover the lost files. He couldn’t. Because they weren’t there anymore, not even in the dark abyss of hard drive Hades. Apparently, while I was googling to see what to do about the lost files my hard drive was happily writing over what was left of them!

I spent three days in cyber purgatory. Three days without a computer. Can you feel my pain? Yes, I have a phone, and, no, it’s not the same thing, you little millennial twits! For one thing, I…

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Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge

Stevie Turner

This is my effort for this week’s Carrot Ranch 99-word Flash Fiction Challenge.  I’ve written a poem about my pet peeve of people chopping down trees just because it’s Christmas…

Trimming the Tree, by Stevie Turner

On Christmas Eve I watched
As the pine was chopped down.
His children danced
When the tree hit the ground.

No roots to sustain it,
He placed it in a bucket.
Gaudy trash on its branches and lots of fuss
Because it was Christmas.

No matter it was dying
In a hot stuffy room,
Its needles fell off
It was butt naked real soon.

Then 6th January comes,
It’s shredded without ceremony.
The commercialism’s phoney
And somehow unholy.

That tree could have given
Four people some oxygen,
Next day he’ll start to rabbit
About trying to ‘save’ the planet!

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