Frantic Typewriters is a new blog I set up with my life-long best mate, Lewis. In it we each write flash fiction stories (1,000 words or less) on the same topic. 2 writers. 1 topic. 1,000 words.
Our first stories will be related to – detective
roryiswriting
This is where I write.
Rory is Reviewing – The Nao of Brown
The Nao of Brown – Glyn Dillon
I read this graphic novel by Glyn Dillon in two sittings, unfortunately interrupted by the biological need for sleep. I’m not really sure where to start in articulating my thoughts for it, so I’ll start by saying that this might be the best original graphic novel I’ve read this year, perhaps in a few years. The only thing close is Jeff Lemire’s The Underwater Welder. As with Lemire’s book, this is entirely written and illustrated by the one person – in this case Glyn Dillon. I read on the Guardian’s website that Dillon actually finished the book with a “severely strained hand and… nerve damage” due to all the effort so I guess all that I can really say about that is… Thank You!
For this truly is a marvelous piece of work. The majority of the book is done in a wonderful watercolour style…
…broken up with some drawing of a different style when the story moves tangentially into some stories being spoken about by the main characters:
Both methods are gorgeous to look at, and equally beautiful is the story’s central arc regarding the English-Japanese Nao Brown, who suffers from a unique form of OCD that results in visions of hyper-violent, often murderous acts that she could potentially commit in the situations she finds herself in. It’s a really touching tale of her constant battle to control her thoughts, as well as the life outside of her head: her job, her love life. So subtle and timely are the transitions between life and violent fantasy that, even once I was well into the book and familiar with the device, a couple of them caught me off-guard.
The result of all the physical effort from Dillon, and the wonderful storytelling beneath the watercolours, is a lengthy and beautiful graphic novel (some credit should be given here to publisher Self Made Hero for a gorgeous hardcover) that grips your interest with its references to London, Japanese culture, Buddhism and more, and also grips the heart with an arresting tale of a very personal struggle. But for what feels like an ever-so-slightly rushed finale to the tale, this is an almost perfect piece of work, in my opinion. Truly magnificent. 9.5/10
Forced writing – OU Task 1
Forced writing is what I call it when I make myself sit down and write just to practice. I’m currently going through an Open University course on iTunes U called “Start Writing Fiction”. It’s totally free and it has various pieces of advice from writers etc. and also these tasks to carry out. I just finished the first one. The objective of this exercise was to improve your character creations by taking a stereotypical character and writing a brief scene in which you portray that character in a complex way, going against the usual expectations.
I chose one of the examples given: the meticulous manager who lives in a messy house.
As he took his seat on the train, he took the time to focus on his breathing, relaxed into the faded seat and let out a deep sigh. Without even knowing what he was doing the iPhone was out of his jacket pocket and he was setting his alarm for the next morning. 6:15 should give him enough time. 8 minutes to shower, 10 to dry and dress with a piece of toast between hurried teeth, and he should have a few minutes left before the 6:47 once he’s walked to the station. Valuable time to get a head start on the morning papers. Knowledge is power, and power was what made him the excellent businessman that he was. That and organisation. He’d set it for 6:00 if he hadn’t had to stay so late arranging his schedule to accommodate the strategic risk assessment meeting at 14:45.
He hardly needed to listen to the announcement of his stop anymore; the entire commute was like being on rails of his own. Real cognitive function only reengaged as he noticed the letter under the door. He set it down on top of a heap of junk mail, knocking of a few unopened birthday cards in the process. He hardly saw them anyway; such was the state of the floor. He’d have forgotten the colour of the carpet if he had one. As it was he tiptoed from one patch of the ragged, worn floorboards to the next without looking. Avoiding the chaos was easier than facing it head on. Employees, numbers, projections and presentations. These are things easily controlled, easily understood. His flat was not controlled, but it was understood. He knew what it was. It was a box for holding his stuff. Stuff like a bed and a fridge. Like the screwdriver and batteries in the top drawer, they are easily found regardless of the junk that orbits around them. His flat was a pit stop garage, only serving to refuel his body for the next lap.
From the notebook – Geneva
I found this in my notebook. I wrote it quite a while ago and I’m really not sure what the idea was here but I found it today. The title has nothing to do with the place. Geneva is a track by a band called Russian Circles that I like so I’m assuming that was the inspiration. I’ve never been in Geneva, Switzerland for more than the time it takes you to get off a plane and onto a bus.
He looked up to the sky and watched the clouds part.
The air was full with the sounds of Death approaching.
It sounded like Death approaching.
It sounded like Beautiful Death approaching.
Pretty fucking hilarious!
I’m not really sure what I was going for here but it’s one of a few things I’ve found that I wrote and finished with the sentence “Pretty fucking hilarious!” so I must have had something in mind. Maybe the music will remind me.
Hello.
My name is Rory.
I’m a neuroscience graduate, trainee physics teacher, and a man with far too many hobbies. Writing is my latest. I love books and comics and I’ve always wanted to write one or many books of either kind in my life. Over the years I’ve read and asked for a lot of advice on writing and the recurring theme is that nobody is born a writer, and you can get better. The objective of this blog is to give me a place to practice and hopefully improve as I do.
To quote one of my favourite writers, Kurt Vonnegut:
“To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So do it.”
roryiswriting 