the_gneech: (me am writing!)
Random Thought the First: I had a funny idea for a Fictionlet, but a) The original gag was somebody else's whom I don't know, and b) it's kinda raunchy, even for Brigid's ribald sensibilities. So I think I'm going to pass. I will say it involved a Toy Story fanfic in which adult toys also came to life.

Random Thought the Second: I think I need to go back to the Sketch-A-Day project I used to do way back when. My art skills are getting a bit rusty, and if I'm going to charge people for commissions, I really should be in good form. Also, there are aspects to my style I've always been dissatisfied with, and I really think that now's the time to change them. I'm getting to the stage where my hand tremors are going to make it harder and harder to draw at all, much less draw what I want to draw, so I need to fix these stupid style holes and do what art I can, while I still can.

Random Thought the Third: Gonna go see the second Hobbit movie today. While I have nothing but affection for Sylvester McCoy, I hope there's way less "Radagast the Ridiculous" in this one. :P I also keep holding out for elves that actually sing, 'cos, y'know, it's TOLKIEN AND THE ELVES SHOULD BE SINGING DAMMIT. But I can't say I've got much hope there.

-The Gneech

PS: No, really, in Tolkien, that's how the world is made. Just about everything important that happens in Middle-Earth, happens because elves are singing about it. C'mon, Peter, I know you've read The Silmarillion!

Da Website

Mar. 30th, 2010 11:52 am
the_gneech: (Writing)
I've had "get gneech.com fixed up" on the Too Much To Do list for some time now, and last night's flurry of "Testing, testing!" is part of that. My general plan is for gneech.com to be my "I Are Actual Writer!" site, while the good ol' LJ account will be more of my daily ramblings. To that end I've been trying to settle on a design that is clean and functional but suits my personality (or at least my "writerly persona," which hopefully isn't too far afield from my actual personality). It will also be a central connection for my wide array of scattered sites and interests. Your One Stop Gneech Shop, so to speak, for anybody who may be in the market for Gneeches.

It still needs some sprucing up to give it a bit more personality ... if nothing else it needs a typewriter on it 'cause dangit, I love typewriters. It also needs to have some of the missing content folded back in (particularly my bibliography).

One other major piece that needs to be put into place is that the Brigid and Greg Fictionlets are going to move over there. (Sorry, [livejournal.com profile] tr_wolf, they'll still appear here, too.) That's going to be something that requires doing in increments over time, just because there are so many Fictionlets now, but as I write new ones they're going to be "native" over there.

I have the site set up so that any posts I make there will echo over here, so if you've been reading the Fictionlets on your friends page and want to keep on doing so, you're set to go. However, if you're only interested in my writing and don't care about things like my search for a cellphone or how the cats or doing (or whatever), you can follow gneech.com's RSS feed to get the business end of my writing updates.

As I've said, the site is still a work in progress, so if you have any suggestions or requests, I'd love to hear 'em.

-The Gneech

Fictionlet

Mar. 25th, 2010 03:26 pm
the_gneech: (Shush)
"I am so tired of naysayers!" Greg said. "Honestly, every time I write a column, make a blog post, or even express an opinion, out from the woodwork come two thousand people ready to contradict everything I say!"

"Of course they don't; don't be ridiculous!" said Brigid.

Greg blinked. "All right, two thousand and one," he amended.

-The Gneech

<-- previous B&G

Milestones

Mar. 24th, 2010 09:51 pm
the_gneech: (Writing)
If you count the parts of the first Brigid and Greg novel that have already been written (in the form of Fictionlets), I've already got 8,000 words.

Not bad, actually. :) Of course, most of those will need some editing and revising to smooth them together (and at least one needs to be shifted to third person from first), so it's not like 8,000 "finished" words, but 8,000 words of rough draft.

Also, going through the Fictionlets, I am starting to see which ones are likely to be in the second novel, and some elements of its plot starting to take shape.

I know, I know, I'm supposed to be getting that Suburban Jungle treasury published. But dang it, it's been so long since I finished a novel! I'm jonesing for it in a big way. And while the other novel project I started last year simmers for a while, it's a good time to start cranking this one out.

The hardest part of writing a B&G novel, is going to be writing stuff and not posting it. After ten years of doing webcomics, I've gotten rather dependent on the instant feedback. I have a few beta readers, tho, so hopefully they'll have some useful things to say.

I admit it ... I'm excited!

-The Gneech

Fictionlet

Mar. 24th, 2010 12:57 pm
the_gneech: (Writing)
"So, Isadora!" said Julia. "Brigid's finally landed herself a man, eh? You must be very proud."

"What do you mean, 'finally'?" said Isadora. "Brigid's landing herself men all the time. In fact, she's left an impressive array of male corpses strewn across the landscape."

"Um," said Julia, apparently trying to figure out which direction to go next. "Well," she finally said, "Greg seems very nice."

"Oh yes," said Isadora, "quite the lovable airhead. And very good at shifting furniture, which is the important thing of course."

"Um," said Julia again.

"There's something about him that brings out the maternal instinct. I tell him to call me his Auntie Isadora. He doesn't do it, of course; he insists on calling me 'Mrs. Franks' all the time, which makes me feel like a mascot for a hot dog stand. But I should have thought of that before marrying Brigid's father, shouldn't I?"

"Er, yes, no doubt," said Julia. "Oh, look! There's Aunt Edna! I really must ask her something. Pardon me, Isadora!"

Isadora smiled at her retreating form. They could make her come to these damn things, but they couldn't stop her from having a good time.

-The Gneech

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the_gneech: (Mad Red)
My mom came home from the hospital yesterday, as her body finally started responding to the pneumonia treatment. She's not "well," but she is "better," and better enough that Betsy, DeOrman and I can cautiously return to our own respective problems. Similarly, [livejournal.com profile] lythandra is responding to her own antibiotics, and most of the various afflictions I was dealing with last week are greatly reduced -- with the exception of the gunk back in my lungs, which is probably going to require another round of steroids.

Thank you, flu, thank you SO bloody much. :P

The upshot of all this is that we're back at work today, so I can start digging myself out from under that. I also started actually doing some work on the theoretical Brigid and Greg novel this weekend. Only a page or so, but the first time I've been enthused about working on anything for a while, so I'll take what I can get. There may be some "continuity" changes in the works for those two, in as much as they have a continuity so far, largely to add more hooks for getting them out of the house and into trouble. There's only so much clever banter in the living room a novel (or hopefully, series of novels) can sustain without getting cabin fever.

This week, my priorities are a) get some exercise, and b) do more writing!

-The Gneech

Fictionlet

Mar. 19th, 2010 03:19 pm
the_gneech: (Writing)
Looking around the party, Brigid was very surprised to see Greg chatting quite normally with a grinning woman who appeared to be in her thirties, all rosy cheeks and brown curls. She wandered over just in time to hear, "Oh please. Your trouble is just that you don't like strong women!"

"I don't?" said Greg.

"Of course not. You're intimidated by them!"

"Hmm," said Greg. "I suppose you're right, I am at that. But then again, I'm also intimidated by strong men. Not to mention elephants, tornadoes, and explosive devices."

"Pfft!" said the woman.

"Hello," said Brigid.

"Aha!" said Greg, "one of the strong women I'm most intimidated by. Janet, this is Brigid. Brigid, this is Janet Duveaux. Although you're more likely to recognize her pen-name, 'Lady Nemo.'"

"'Lady Nemo'? I don't remember any — wait a minute. Wasn't 'Lady Nemo' the one who wrote the play with the giant rubber penis?"

"Yes, that's me!" beamed Janet, as if she had something to be proud of.

"Wow," said Brigid.

"Anyway, Janet tells me that I don't like strong women," Greg said.

"You like my mother, does that count?" said Brigid. "She once melted a bus using only her withering stare."

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Mar. 16th, 2010 10:14 am
the_gneech: (Alex Spaz)
"Wait a minute..." muttered Greg. "Why, you sneaky so-and-so!"

"What?" said Brigid, from across the room.

"I got it! I got it!" Greg said, brandishing a newspaper at her. "See, it's not just down and across. Each of these smaller boxes also go from one to nine! That makes it much easier. You don't have to keep track of the whole puzzle all at once, just each one of these!"

Brigid blinked at the half-finished sudoku puzzle Greg was enthusing over. "Congratulations," she said. "You've mastered a rudimentary concept known to a bazillion retirees worldwide. Maybe you'd like to walk up to McDonalds for some coffee and a rousing game of checkers."

"Fine," said Greg, turning his back to her. "Just for that, I'm not going to tell you the answer to today's Super-Scramble."

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Feb. 22nd, 2010 01:12 pm
the_gneech: (Mad Red)
"If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it," said Brigid.

"But I didn't like it," said Greg.

"Well then, you're fine," said Brigid.

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Feb. 16th, 2010 11:02 am
the_gneech: (Rex Dart Eskimo Spy!)
"Roooger Ramjet, he's our man! Heeeee-ro of our nation!" sang Greg. "For his adventures just be sure to stay tuned to this sta-tion!"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Brigid said. "Why, of all the things you could be singing, did you pick the theme song to a forty-year-old cartoon that frankly wasn't anything to write home about when it was new? What goes on in that brain of yours?"

Greg, frozen in place like somebody caught with his hand in the cookie jar, silently looked around, moving only his eyes back and forth in an exaggerated mode of alarm for several seconds. Finally, he sang, "Toooooom Slick! Toooooom Slick! Let! Me! Tell you why! He's the best of all the guys!"

"Oh for Pete's sake," said Brigid, heading for the door. "I'm getting out of here."

"There's no such word as 'I'm getting out of here' in automobile racing, Marigold!" Greg called after her.

"Shut up!" she replied, slamming the door behind her.

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Dec. 4th, 2009 10:02 am
the_gneech: (Jeeves Strangle)
Greg, lying back on the couch with his feet splayed out into the room, said, "What a night. The drama llama and the fail whale rode a roflcopter over to the lolrus's house."

"This," said Alex, slouching next to him in a very similar pose.

Brigid, slumped down into a nearby easy chair with a glass of spent ice, just looked over at them through narrow slits for eyes and said, "Fail."

"Irascible Brigid is irascible," said Greg.

"Quote for truth," said Alex.

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Nov. 12th, 2009 09:10 am
the_gneech: (It Stinks)
"'We don't need no education? We don't need no thought control?' Obviously you can't take that at face value," Brigid said. "It's satire, it's got to be. It's like A Modest Proposal. They're not really advocating an anti-education point of view. They're making fun of it."

"I'm afraid I must disagree," said Alex. "First of all, there's no evidence within the song that it's anything but just exactly what it says. The idea that such an idea is so over-the-top as to be untenable is more a matter of personal bias than anything actually in the text. Furthermore, you have to look at the song within the context of the larger work. 'The Wall' is a rock-opera, a large single work, of which the song is just a smaller part. It's about isolation, it's about a series of abusive relationships that lead to a socially- and emotionally-broken protagonist. The teachers in 'The Wall' are mean, small-minded, vicious — 'just another brick in the wall' that separates the character Pink from the rest of the world. And as a largely-autobiographical work by Roger Waters, there's no reason not to think that it is, in fact, based on his own teachers. Far from making fun of an anti-education point of view, it sounds to me like an anthem devoted to the idea of eliminating schools all together."

"That's ridiculous," said Brigid. "And furthermore, you're a stupid-head."

"Oh I am, am I?" said Alex. "Well let's turn to the expert, here. You're the literary guy, Greg, what do you think? Straightforward rant, or sly satire?"

"Well," said Greg, "I think you're both overlooking a much more important question here: specifically, how can you have your pudding if you don't eat your meat?"

Brigid and Alex both nodded, impressed. "That is a stumper," said Brigid.

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Nov. 10th, 2009 09:29 am
the_gneech: (Jeeves Strangle)
Nibbling on tuna-on-a-cracker, Greg said, "People who can't tell 'their' as in 'belonging to them' from 'there' as in 'over there' really? Huh. I'd have thought the good old grocer's apostrophe would be what drove you the most nuts."

"Well yeah, that drives me nuts too," Brigid said, talking over the music. "But not as nuts as the whole their/there/they're trifecta."

"Eh, I could care less about that," said Treville, but was roundly ignored.

"What about you, Mr. Writer?" said Brigid. "Surely a wordsmith such as yourself must have a linguistic pet peeve or twelve."

"Well, I'm usually pretty laid back about it," said Greg. "The whole don't-wrestle-with-a-pig thing, y'know? But I think the one thing that really makes my teeth grind is when people latch on to some linguistic construction that makes absolutely no sense and that they'd never say in a million years except they heard it on television or something and think it makes them sound hip, so they repeat it over and over."

"I know, right?" said Treville, but then couldn't understand why the two of them just stared at him in cold silence.

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Nov. 4th, 2009 10:50 am
the_gneech: (Shaoran WTF)
"No! NO! Not NOW!!!" shouted Brigid, pummeling the blue screen of her laptop in helpless frustration. "Dammit, I've got to get this thing out the door tonight!" She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath; then she reached for the phone and dialed the Help Desk extension.

"Blisto, help desk," came the voice on the other end of the line. Brian Blisto, one of the many I.T. guys with bizarre names.

"Hi, it's Brigid," she said. "My laptop's just gone BSOD for the third time today; I need you guys to get me fixed up 'cause this proposal has got to go out."

"Huh, not good," said Blisto. "Let me if any techs are available. It looks like Who's on-call, What's in the server room, and I Don't Know's configuring the phones."

"Wha huh?" said Brigid.

Blisto said, "Who's on-call, What's in the server room, and I Don't Know's configuring the phones."

Brigid blinked. "Uh, right. Well, send me the on-call technician please."

"Who."

"The on-call technician."

"Who."

"The on-call technician!"

"Who is on-call!"

"I'm asking you who's on-call!"

"That's his name."

"Who?"

"Yes."

"So tell me his name!"

"Who."

"The on-call technician!" demanded Brigid. "What's his name?"

"No," said Blisto, "What's in the server room."

"I don't know!"

"He's configuring the phones, you're not having trouble with those are you?"

"The phones?" said Brigid. "How did I get to be talking about the phones?"

"You mentioned the tech's name."

"Who's name?"

"No, Who's on-call."

"I don't know!"

"He's configuring the phones."

Brigid stopped and blinked a few times. "Look," she finally said, "what's the name of the on-call technician?"

"No, What's in the server room."

"I'm not asking who's in the server room."

"Who's on-call."

"I don't know. Configuring the phones!" she snapped, cutting Blisto off. After a few seconds of mutually-frustrated silence, she said sweetly, "Do you have any contractor support?"

"Yeah, when the load's too heavy, we call in temps."

"Fine. Send me one of the temps, please."

"Okay, I'll send Tomorrow."

"I can't wait for tomorrow, this proposal's got to go out tonight!"

"Why?"

"So the company stays in business and we all stay employed, doofus."

"No, I mean I'll send Why if you don't like Tomorrow."

Brigid twitched. "What?"

"He's in the server room."

"Who's in the server room?"

"No, Who's on-call."

"I don't know — configuring the phones!"

"Don't have a cow, lady," said Blisto. "I'm trying to help you. But I have to know which technician to send."

"I don't care which technician! Just send somebody!"

"Sorry, say that again?"

"I said, 'Just send somebody."

"The I.T. manager? Okay, if you insist. But I've got to warn you, he can be kind of confusing."

Brigid's telephone went through two layers of drywall and ended up in the accounting department.

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Oct. 27th, 2009 06:22 pm
the_gneech: (Quidditch)
"I think I should warn you," Greg said, "Saturday's Halloween, so if you plan to crash whatever party I may be headed to that night, you'll be expected to, you know, dress up and everything."

"Oh, I've got it covered," said Brigid. "I have the perfect costume this year."

Greg blinked. "Really? That's terrific, finally getting into the spirit of it, eh? What's your costume?"

"I'm going as Balloon Boy. I'm going to hide in the garage until the whole thing blows over."

Greg winced and said, "Fun: you're doing it wrong."

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Sep. 30th, 2009 10:54 am
the_gneech: (Kero Are You Crazy)
"OOOOOOH Lord, it's hard to be humble," sang Greg loudly and badly, "when yer perfikt in EEEEEEEv-er-eeee way!"

"Oh God," snarled Brigid. "Please. Seriously. Stop."

Greg frowned. "Now what?"

"Please. You, perfect in every way? Where do you come up with these things?"

"Neither am I a rambler, a gambler, and a long way from home," said Greg, "but that wouldn't stop me from singing about it. This may come as a surprise to you, my young prune, but I sing because I enjoy singing, not because I'm trying to send coded messages to the world."

"You don't really expect me to believe you enjoy singing bad country music, do you?"

"There's an interesting paradox there; what would you consider good country music?"

"Johnny Cash and Vaughn Monroe," Brigid said without hesitation.

"Oooh! Good choices. How about Buck Owens and Roy Clark?"

"Are you trying to make me shoot you?"

"I guess that's a 'no,' then. But however you may feel about Hee-Haw, Roy Clark has some pretty amazing guitar chops."

"Like I care about amazing guitar chops," said Brigid.

"Actually, 'The Amazing Guitar Chops' would be a good name for a ramblin' country band," Greg said.

"You are trying to make me shoot you," said Brigid. "I'm leaving before I get arrested."

Greg was singing "Momma Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys" before she reached her room.

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Sep. 25th, 2009 07:40 am
the_gneech: (Torey Rave)
"Walk without rhythm," chanted Greg, punctuating each word with a wag of his finger, "and it won't. attract. the worm." He struck a dramatic pose and chanted again, "Walk without rhythm, and it won't! Attract! The worm!" Striking a still more dramatic pose, he added, "Walk without rhythm--!"

"Why would I want to attract a worm, anyway?" said Brigid. "That's stupid."

Greg went back to his regular posture. "You'll never learn," he said.

"Feh," said Brigid. "The only reason you like that song is 'cause you think it's about Dune."

Greg shrugged. "Speaking of which, I wonder if your name is a killing word?"

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Sep. 18th, 2009 11:13 am
the_gneech: (Kero class)
Uncle Bob shook his head. "I'm worried about you, my boy. Worried! All you ever do is sit around this bourgeois apartment you've set up for yourself, clacking away at the keyboard, taking abuse from that harridan. You need, in short, to get a life."

Greg shook his head. "I have a life, thank you, and one that suits me nicely. I'm a natural-born keyboard clacker."

"Balls!" said Uncle Bob. "You're too young spend your life sitting on your butt. Now, as your Godfather and brother to the lovely lady who gave you life, I feel responsible for you, and it's my duty to see that you get out there and experience the grand tapestry of life."

"You? Responsible?"

"Don't sound so dubious, you little brat! I've had a long and rich life, and I know whereof I speak."

Greg pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. "You spent the '70s riding in the back of a van with a band called 'Fab Rick and the Softeners'."

"Exactly! We had adventures, my boy. Adventures!"

"Like being held for ten days in a county jail on possession charges?" Greg said. "Sounds thrilling."

"Who told you about that?"

"That would be the lovely lady who gave me life you mentioned earlier," Greg said. "Mother was very fond of you, Uncle Bob, but she had no illusions about you, either."

"Well, it wasn't my marijuana anyway," said Bob. "I was an innocent bystander, and that deputy had it in for us from the start."

"Don't they all?" said Greg, and turned back to his keyboard.

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Sep. 15th, 2009 09:52 am
the_gneech: (Alex Spaz)
Brigid: What would you call a story about us in 140 characters or less?

Greg: A Fictiontwit.

Brigid: I hate you.

-The Gneech

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Fictionlet

Aug. 12th, 2009 08:05 am
the_gneech: (Jeeves Nazis)
"Bread and butter," said Greg.

"Cheese and crackers," countered Brigid.

"Thunder and lightning?"

"Pride and prejudice."

"Freebie and the Bean?"

"BJ and the Bear."

"Chico and the man."

"Bennie and the Jets."

"Benny and Joon."

"Rosencrantz and Gildenstern."

"Damon and Pythias."

"Castor and Pollux."

"Abbot and Costello."

"Grant and Lee."

"Chip and Dale."

"Josie and the Pussycats."

"Scylla and Charybdis."

"Romulus and Remus."

"Sodom and Gomorrah."

"Breaking and entering."

"Jeeves and Wooster."

"The devil and Daniel Webster."

"The devil and the deep, blue sea."

"The old man and the sea."

"The ghost and Mrs. Muir."

"Tippecanoe and Tyler, too."

"Four score and seven years."

"Stars and stripes."

"Baseball, hot dogs, apple pie, and Chevrolet."

"No," said Brigid, shaking her head. "That's four."

"So it is," said Greg. "I concede."

-The Gneech

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