Robbery – The Beastly Fisherman
Also, on iCast.
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 2 comments.
Robbery – The Future Cop
And now on iCast.
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with comments disabled.
לכל X יש M
לכל X יש M שנתן לו המרצה ונתנו לו תלמידיו לכל X יש M שנתנו לו נגזרתו ואופן התפלגותו ונתן לו הגרף לכל X יש M שנתנו לו משתניו ונתנו לו שנתותיו לכל X יש M שנתנו לו הפונקציות ונתנו לו הפרמטרים לכל X יש M שנתנו לו גבהיו ונתנו לו משטחיו לכל X יש M שנתנו לו משתמשיו ונתנה לו הגדרתו לכל X יש M שנתן לו אינטגרלו ונתנו לו וקטוריו לכל X יש M שנתנו לו טוריו ונתן לו פיתוחו לכל X יש M שנתנה לו שאיפתו ונתנה לו התכנסותו
Posted in From the Writing Desk, Memes and Stuff by Eran with 3 comments.
סיפורים מוזרים וחלומות שימושיים
אני כל הזמן כותב. המהירות, הקצב, כמות הסיפורים בו זמנית ובכלל הכל מאוד תלויים אבל אני תמיד חושב על סיפורים. כשאני כותב אני מושפע ממה שעברתי לאחרונה או שאני עובר עליו עכשיו (וכשאני אומר ‘עובר’ אני מתכוון ל’קורא’ (ספרים, קומיקס,…), ל’צופה’ (קולנוע, טלוויזיה,…) וכן הלאה). כרגע אני עובד על ארבעה רעיונות עם עוד אחד בקנה ודיי צריך להודות על כך למחזה שראיתי בעולמות. ‘מותו וחייו של ליאם או’לירי’ באמת היה מחזה נהדר וגרם לי לרצות לכתוב עוד. אם עוד לא ראיתם אותו, הבנתי שמתוכננות עוד הופעות. ברגע שאדע מתי ואיפה כנראה שאגרור לשם גם את ההורים שלי. אז ארבע רעיונות…
Posted in From the Writing Desk, No Category, Thinking Out Loud by Eran with 6 comments.
Parents: The Close Aliens
Outside the crystalline window, the spindles of the refit port were visible, like thin metal claws waiting to prey on any incoming ship that dare brave their path. A cargo ship and a science vessel were already docked and being tended by the station’s staff. A blast of light from the port side signaled another incoming craft, this one a long range scout, taking a typical hands-on approach for the dock. Beneath the gnarled structure was a blue orb that took up almost all of the starboard side view, a giant of nitrogen and ammonia, imperceptively spinning from dark to light and from light to dark. “Which one are they on?” Velorum asked, leaning on the edge of the window, where opacity encountered transparency. “I don’t know,” Vitalis said, warily, from the side of the window. “Can’t you do your thing here? Feel them out?” “Can’t you? I don’t know what to feel for. I can tell you, roughly, how many people there are here, where are they grouping and the general mood. Other than that, you know as much as I do.” “Ah, it’s the V twins!” Someone said from behind them and put hands on their shoulders. Velorum’s reaction was instantaneous and only Vitalis’ connection to his brother allowed him to move fast enough to catch his arm before the elbow connected with the bridge of the nose. The interloper swayed back and looked at them suspiciously. “Relax, Vel. You’re back home.” “It’s a tense time, Div,” Said Continue Reading →
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 5 comments.
Parents: The Beastly Fisherman
A raft. A raft is what you would build if you were stranded on a deserted island with only your burning desire for civilization to keep you company. You would build a raft if you needed to cross a stream and couldn’t risk going under the water. A raft you’ll build if you had a boy who wanted to be a sailor and you were teaching him basic ship making. That was not why Dorus built the raft. He didn’t build the raft for any of those reasons. He wasn’t on a deserted island though he did feel alone. He didn’t need to cross a stream thought there were some waters he dared not tread. He didn’t show anyone the woodwork though the illusionist, Torin, regarded him with some interest. “No grave, then,” Torin said, casually, from the rock where he sat looking over a twig with his one good hand. “No grave,” Dorus responded with a voice that sounded more gravelly than usual, tired and haggard. “You don’t know where they are?” Dorus pulled on the rope, tightening the knot and then tying another one for good measure. “Mom gone before I could remember. Think she died at childbirth but father wouldn’t talk about it. He was lost at sea, a terrible storm, while I had only 15 winters to me.” “So, no grave.” Torin repeated. “No grave.” Dorus acknowledged, a little more solemnly. He walked over to the pile of unused timber, next to the rock Torin sat Continue Reading →
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 4 comments.
Parents: The Outer Jedi
In a moment of distraction, a stray gust of wind, as casual as inbound crafts on Courascant, as chaotic as a sand storm on Tatooine, as violent as a starving Kell Dragon, thrust itself underneath his body and flung him over to one side. For a minute, only one hand was holding onto an extrusion in the almost uniform rock face. His legs dangled over an infinite abyss, layers of clouds and mist obscuring the ground far below. He turned and looked up, before his fingers could no longer hold him, and found another bulge just a few centimeters above him. He tried to swing back but the ferocious wind tugged at his grey robes and wouldn’t allow him to physically move himself. There was no other choice. He had to do it. It was either this or falling to his death. He focused on the clear bulge and wrapped his mind around it like a lasso. When he could feel the grip, the strong link between him and that impassioned piece of stone, he pulled. This was not the way he was taught this skill. He had to reverse engineer the trick, visualize pulling the immovable object but instead pull himself. He yanked harder, overcoming the pull of the winds and regaining his position on the side of the cliff. There, no trouble. Keep climbing.
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 4 comments.
Parents: The Damned Soldier
אני חושב שהגיע הזמן. היום יהיה ערב משחקים ואני חושב להריץ משחק Super-Duper Strange Synergy כי אסף אהב את המשחק הזה. אז אני לא יודע מתי הפצע יגליד לחלוטין אבל בזאת אני מסכם את הנושא בבלוג שלי. אני חושב שכתבתי על זה מספיק. אם יצוץ עוד משהו, הוא יעלה פה אבל אני לא חושב שזה יקרה. אז את הקטע הזה בסדרת ה”הורים” החלטתי לכתוב בצורה דומה כבר לפני הרבה זמן אבל אני לא יכול להגיד שהמוות של אסף וגם המלחמה הנוכחית לא השפיעו עליו.
Posted in From the Writing Desk, No Category by Eran with 2 comments.
Parents: The Future Cop
“What did you do this week? Are you eating well? How is that friend of yours, Jack, right? Have you met anyone nice? What about that British girl you talked about? Are you feeling OK? Please tell me you weren’t involved in that big mess in Baltimore last week!” Dexter looked up from the pudgy bowl of cereal he had in front of him. Across the kitchen table sat his mother, carefully drinking her morning tea, and his father, eating scrambled eggs with one hand because his other was holding the paper. Being a Protector is hard enough. It wasn’t extra easy when you were fresh out of college and when things, under your supervision, tended to spiral madly out of control. The Protectors at least, gave him some slack. They were sort of a rough attachment to the International Police Group and so gave their operatives quite a free hand. They usually backed you up completely if you got the job done, no one was killed and not a lot of damage was done.
Posted in From the Writing Desk by Eran with 5 comments.