Global TranceWriting Festival 2005

Sci-Fi

2005-04-30T07:30:00.000-07:00

I'm about 4,000 words into a science fiction novel. It is an interesting endeavor. I find that to just say "They got on a space ship and took off" seems somewhat hollow.

I have been detailing the construction of the ship, the physics involved, it's operational parameters, and the business culture in which it operates.

Have any of you other writers discovered the fun in dreaming up these matters?

Write-a-thalon

2005-04-29T17:18:00.000-07:00

Greetings Gentlemen,

Are we writing in May? I'm ready to go.

Writing update:

Since my Baptism into the world of writing in May of '04 I have produced:

A Novel 25,000 words
A Novel 48,000 words
Short story 4,000 words (submitted to New Yorker)
Beginning of another Novel 4,000 words so far

I think I am beginning to get the hang of it.

Viva Mahakali!

Vipul Rikhi: Nowhere Man

2005-02-12T00:22:00.000-08:00

In case you guys remember, Vipul was one of the participants last year. I'm very happy to learn that he's one of the folks behind the brilliant Gustakhi Maaf satire on NDTV. Also, here's a news item about Vipul:

Rikhi, author of dark, absurd and yet poetic prose published this week by Indialog, was a jack-of-all-trades before he picked up the pen.

"I wrote scripts for NDTV's political puppet-show `Gustaakhi Maaf', edited Honeybee - a rural magazine from Ahmedabad that dealt with agro innovations, and taught French at Alliance Francaise.

The title of the book, too, fits in with this general sense of dislocation. Identifying with the title and substance of "Nowhere", Rikhi absented himself from the book's credits by writing under a pseudonym, Ved Amaltas.

Rikhi explained: "The stories are an oblique comment on every day insanities, the kind we accept as part of normal life. I wanted to highlight the dark areas, the untold. They attempt to give a new language to the anguish of absurdities."

Thus there is a professor researching how long it takes for a biscuit to crumble in his coffee along with sardonic treatise on modern love and the urban desire for pastoral enchantment.

Rikhi participated in a global e-novel writing event organised by Mumbai-based journalist Rohit Gupta.

The result was "A Simple Love Story", a novel written over a single weekend. "It was a fun thing and I hope it will soon be published," he said.

Mahakali Lite: The Results

2005-02-11T06:39:00.000-08:00

After gruelling sessions of continuous writing, Fadereu came up with his masterpiece (at least, I thought so... in that state) short fiction OpXp! It can easily be categorized amongst his best works till date. Desoumal managed 2/3rds of his screenplay, a non-linear narrative involving lives of four different people spanning three continents. The effects of the trance were felt till several days after the event...

I humbly announce the Mahakali Lite over. Now, we patiently await the Global TranceWriting Extravaganza...

Mahakali Lite

2005-02-08T04:40:00.000-08:00

Today, 8th Feb 2005, 5:00 PM IST, at 5B-13 Takshila, Andheri E, Fadereu and Desoumal started their 24 hour Mahakali Lite(weight) write-a-thalon session. To finish a novel/screenplay by 9th Feb, 2005, 5:00 PM.

Keep tracking, writing!

Automatic Writing: How to do it

2005-01-20T05:44:00.000-08:00

I found this at a webpage of Duke University. A how-to manual for automatic writing.

Sit at a table with pen and paper; put yourself in a 'receptive' frame of mind, and start writing. Continue writing without thinking of what is appearing beneath your pen. Write as fast as you can. If, for some reason, the flow stops,leave a space and immediately begin again by writing down the first letter of the next sentence. Choose this letter at random before you begin, for instance, a 't', and always begin this new sentence with a 't'. Although in the purest version of automatism nothing is 'corrected' or re-written the unexpected material produced by this method can be used as the basis for further composition. What is crucial is the unpremeditated free association that creates the basic text.

-- Surrealist Games (Alastair Brotchie, Redstone Press)

Ah well. I just recommend speed writing, supported by speed visualization. Eh?

2005-01-10T07:08:00.000-08:00

This happened once before when I came to your door no reply they said it wasn't you but I saw you peek through your window I saw the light…

I'm listening to the entire output of The Beatles (most of which I've never heard before) in order to try and channel John Lennon but all I'm getting is Michael Nesmith from The Monkees. Which is weird because he is still very much alive.

Maybe California is Heaven.

The Talented Ms. Piper

2004-12-25T20:59:00.000-08:00

"I feel as absolutely certain as I am of any personal fact in the world that she knows things in her trances which she cannot possibly have heard in her waking state." - Professor W. James

"Mrs. Piper's trance personality is undoubtedly (I use the word in the strongest sense) aware of much to which she has no kind of ordinarily recognised clue, and of which she, in her ordinary state, knows nothing. But how does she get this knowledge?"- Sir Oliver Lodge, F.R.S

- from The Evidence For Identity, Sir William Barrett FRS

From India To Mars

2004-12-25T20:29:00.000-08:00

I discovered an entire storehouse of knowledge on this occult practice called AutomaticWriting on the Wikipedia.

Automatic writing (also known as free writing) is the process of writing without thinking, usually with the intent of removing conscious barriers and inhibitions in the writer. Its use began in the Spiritualism movement, but it was later adopted both as a creative and a psychotheraputic tool.

Also, I recommend listening to Sufi music, or Vedic chants to create a trance-like atmosphere, though I have reason to believe that new-age techno-trance may also be quite cool. I also suggest we don't go too far with this occult stuff, or we stand the danger of being perceived as Martian Invaders:

Automatic writing has been used in Spiritualism and the New Age movement as a form of channeling. One of the most famous automatic writers was Helen Smith, an early 20th century psychic who claimed that her automatic writing was actually the attempt of Martians to communicate with Earth.

She would write out the Martian communications on paper and translate them into French, popularizing automatic writing. In 1900, Mlle Smith became famous with the publication of Des Indes à la Planete Mars ("From India to the Planet Mars") by Theodor Flournoy, Professor of Psychology at the University of Geneva. The book was a sensation.

Here is a longer account of Smith's story.

Riddle Me This

2004-12-08T21:50:00.000-08:00

My friend Sam just participated in "NaSoAlMo" National Solo Album Month-- the operative nation here being the U.S.A., I believe. I'll let y'all know when he puts it on his website.

Until then, here is a genuine puzzle. Consider the following two sentences:

(1) There are some things, such as unicorns, that don't exist.
(2) There are unicorns that don't exist.

Intuitively, (1) is true but (2) is nonsensical. But it would also seem that (1) and (2) have the same logical structure.

So, what's going on here? Englighten me.

By the way, this sentence is just plain false:
(3) There are unicorns.

Your friend in puzzlement,
gabe

Greetings and salutations!

2004-12-08T13:40:00.000-08:00

It is I Greg Schultz. My screen name is "two7sclash" (from a 1977 reggae song by the group Culture) Thanks for the invite. I've recently participated in NaNoWriMo. This month I am editing novels, teaching myself to play guitar, and trying to produce one masterpiece of fine art. Below is a bit of verse I have written expressing my feelings about NaNoWriMo:

ODE TO SPEEDWRITING

The author of this sordid tale
Did write and write to gain word count
Taxing all literary style
Stocked by caffeine, taurine, ginseng
What a blubbering wreck he was
He even wrote of purple fuzz
At nine thousand words to complete
Oh gosh! Oh God! Was that man beat
There were only eight hours left
He lay in bed and scribbled prose
He settled for any old word
To make eight syllables per line
Is it poetry? I don’t know
Doggerel maybe, words for sure
So why keep on when styles spent?
I want to finish corpulent
My TV’s on, my head does hurt
I donned a nifty gray T-shirt
I need an ibuprofen pill
Or T-bone steak from off the grill
All dripping with hot beef tallow
A carnivorous prose fellow
The bloody charred beef in my mouth
Makes me feel like I’m so uncouth
I do not care and that’s the truth
This novel writing sure is hard
Yes, I can write, but I’m no bard
When I send this to publishers
I hope they’re quite insane or dumb
And cut me checks for fifty grand
And spread this book across the land
In every country near and far
This book will gain much infamy
In universities and schools
It will be shown what not to do
Is write a book like that daft jerk
Who babbled on about that bird
In sloppy prose and misspelled word
He puked his thoughts upon the page
Like he was some prophet or sage
While readers laughed and scratched their heads
And thought “what drug is that man on?”
Much caffeine and adrenaline
Are dangerous consumed in bulk
To produce literary hulks
Some of the book was fun to read
But most caused reader’s brains to bleed
A lobotomy that man needs
To make his novels good to read
But on he scribbled like a fool
Salivating in a pool
I know! Let’s send him to school
To stop him being such a fool
But still he scribbled all damn night
Believe me people, that’s not right
His fiction suffers like a blight
Of scabies, dandruff, and skin mites
I hope this testimony don’t
Scare others from attempting this
To write so much, void plot or plan
I hear that some succeeded in
Composing novels in a month
But as for me it sure does suck
To plod on through the mire and muck
Like some old anemic dead duck
But on I press to reach the goal
Of fifty thousand words of prose
Yes, words they are, but my how gross
To scribble such anemic rhymes
Is such a blatant waste of time
So heed my tale masters of word
And don’t write of no wretched bird
Beguiling souls to compose verse
When each new line is worse and worse
Is really dull. No. It’s a curse!
A dubious distinction gained
To compose verse that gives migraine
I’ll proudly proclaim to my friends
I wrote crap to the bitter end
I was tempted to add some Joyce
No one will miss it, no not Joyce
But I have pride, and I can write
Irrelevant words all damn night
My friend Betsy does read Dylan
And says my book makes much more sense
So on I write with no repent
Perhaps my next novel will have
A subject that is sensible
Why do I in spite take challenge?
To write about psychotic birds
I don’t have great command of words
At twenty thousand words I faltered
And started to compose dreck
Oh my! Oh my! My book’s a wreck
Till my hand is sore with carpal
Syndrome and my butt is numb
From sitting at this PC long
Oh, so long did I write and jot
These illogical words and all
I had to show for it was pain
In body, spirit, soul, and brain
I stopped and ate some apple pie
And half an old burrito found
I scavenged high and scavenged low
But that was all the food I found
With revived energy I sped
Writing till my fingertips bled
I hope I do not go insane
I hear it’s not good for the brain
I think I need some ginkgo tea
Or go and have a nice long pee
To help relieve this stress I feel
Like a blue whale that can’t find krill
For words are plankton to writers
Who process nouns and wily verbs
Maybe my prose aint so superb
Maybe my thoughts are old clichés
But when the sun shines you make hay
S.T. Coleridge I am not
My eyes don’t flash, my hair don’t float
I need to find a South bound boat
To tropic island with white beach
And tawny girls I would beseech
To let me view their private parts
Oh no! They’d say. No! We’re not tarts
To let you see our private parts
Into the jungle I would roam
To escape from this lengthy tome
No wonder so many writers
Went mad and turned to hard liquor
Of course I take much solace in
The fact that most novels are gross
That took twenty years to compose
While I wrote my horrible bunch
Of stilted jargon in a month
When I finish this wretched work
I plan on becoming a jerk
To libraries I then would go
And bomb them all to rubble so
That this art form is dead and still
And torments not the imbeciles
Who idolize the dull authors
Who feel our shelves with cheesy dreck
And twisted clichéd misspelled words
About gigantic mutant birds
Constructed from such lifeless words
And all over this wretched world
A joyous cheer was loudly heard
Hooray! For humankind was spared
From wretched novelists who dared
To compose tangled mess of words
As if they were so smart and brave
To write like some ignorant slave
But I must finish this one page
For twenty minutes yet remain
In this ignominious day
Tomorrow I must go to work
And act all spiffy bright and smart
When I can’t really give a fart
And only want to sit and weep
Like E.A.P. (He’s such a creep)
To moan about his lost Lenore
Hey! E.A.P. She was a whore
To quote the raven, “Nevermore!”
I hope sweet sleep does soon arrive
For I am wired, not tired
Fifteen minutes yet remain to
Strain my poor over-taxed brain
I wish I would have just refrained
From entering this dumb contest
'Cause what I need is lot’s of rest
Not give I cardiac arrest
To so sorely my bod’ do test
I feel a dull pain in my chest
Like wearing a plutonium vest
And having my cells loose their zest
I don’t feel well, I do confess
Only five lines to go, I guess
What should I write? I guess, more mess
Three lines to go? Oh yes! Oh yes!
What should I write on this here line?
But, lo! The last bad line, at last!

P.S. The title of last month's novel was "General Tso's Chicken Came From Space and Kicked Our Asses"

Hello hello hello

2004-12-08T01:19:00.000-08:00

well, insane, i don't know.... but i'll be insane this week. from now till saturday is pure drawing, eating, and 5 hours of sleep per night.

so. i'll see lots of y'all.

y'all? whose out there? rohit?

TranceFormation

2004-12-07T23:51:00.000-08:00

Soum, Mike..please welcome Gregory S. Schultz, one of the most energetic participants in the GMW. I've sent him an invite, he should be joining soon. Also expected is Gabriel Greenberg, the insane philosopher-artist who drew the Doppler Effect comic-book in 24 hours.

The organisation strategy and process this year will be transparent. So this blog is HQ for most purposes. I've heard on the grapevine that e-mail will go extinct in a few decades.

Cheers!

No Introduction Necessary

2004-12-06T01:06:00.000-08:00

My name is Mike and I'm a recovering writer. It's been almost seven months since my last 'episode'.

In a moment of insanity I thought I could write a novel in a weekend. It wasn't my idea - it takes a special kind of madness to come up with that - but I gave it my all. And by all I mean that I lost my fingertips, the ability to process coffee and a little part of my soul.

The one thing that I remember is counting myself lucky among the survivors and being thankful that the whole evil process was finally over.

Except it wasn't.

There was the rewrite. And then the friends I made (sharing in The Great Mahakali Write-A-Thalon scars you in a way that only others who have been through it can understand). And then the thing I wrote began to haunt me like tell tale heart.

And then I find myself here. No escape.

So to hell with it. I'm in this for the long haul. I foolishly thought that 58 hours meant 58 hours but the devil is in the details and I'm looking forward to dragging my carcass through the process all over again. And again. And again.

The first thing I should do is dig out the near-as-damn-it finished rewrite director's cut with commentary, extra scenes and exclusive interviews version of Thrill Pitcher out from under the floorboards and let it have it's wicked way with you all...

What is Trance Writing?

2004-11-29T01:15:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, there was an event organized by Rohit Gupta, the Mumbai based writer. The event was called The Great Mahakali Write-A-Thalon and had a number of participants from several countries. The idea was to finish a novel or a screenplay in 58 hours time. Sounds weird? Try it out and you would know.

Following are a few excerpts from the FAQ page of the Great Mahakali website:

"I believe that the any writer who writes in this contest fresh, with honesty, will stand a better chance of winning. That's the "zone" I'm hoping that writers will get inside mentally, a sort of trance.

This is the way the human spirit works. Cheaters hide and conspire, but honesty burns and shows up as a cosmic force, it explodes in your face.

So stop worrying about this shit. The only thing to worry about is what you'll tell your grandchildren - "I once wrote an entire novel in three days. There were these writers all over the globe, see? We all began writing one Friday morning like it was the end of the world......."

"We are doing this to push our apparent limits as writers and see where it leads us. The possibilities of super-intensive writing are exciting, that's why."

It's addictive. It's insane. And it gets your blood racing. Maybe it even raises your Kundalini. But, the best part, of course is, it brings the writer and the story hidden in the recesses of your head. Kudos to Rohit!