Posted in Fanfiction, Humor, Poetry, Written Works

Oh, Winter

I find myself writing about the weather once more.  This was written in the midst of an unexpected winter blizzard.  Here’s hoping the weather’s a bit more springlike by the time this post comes out!

 

My goodness, Winter

You said you’d never come back

After our last fight

After that last flight

You ran away that night

 

Yet here you are, Winter

Hurling daggers from the clouds

At my smug smiling face

At this maddening pace

A swirl of white, icy lace

 

Oh, Winter…

 

Please learn to share, Winter

With your seasonal sisters

Fall’s mournful cinders

Springtime’s hush

Fair, beautiful Summer’s blush

 

I’m glad you’re back, Winter

In honesty, I enjoy your company

But time’s passed along

I’m afraid I’ve moved on

Find someplace else to snow upon

 

Posted in Absurdity, Doctor Who, Fanfiction, Figgies in the TARDIS, Humor, Science Fiction, Short Stories

“Jenny” – a Flash Fiction

Happy New Year, everyone!  (As usual, I’m a bit late in wishing people things.)  Let me tell you, I’ve always wanted to write a Doctor Who fanfiction about Jenny (the Doctor’s daughter) and a certain hit song by Tommy Tutone.  Well, here’s a little something I wrote in literally three minutes.  (This one’s for the Figgies in the TARDIS. 😉 )

 “I don’t know, you guys,” said Grace uncertainly as Cece and Emii reached for the TARDIS’ telephone.

 “Oh, come on, Grace,” Emii chided.  “Haven’t you ever wanted to know who’s at that number?”

 Cece and Emii sang out the numbers as they dialed, which only made Grace roll her eyes.  “Eight-six-seven-five-three-oh-niiiine!

 The two mischief-makers waited anxiously for the call to complete as dialed.  Finally, somebody picked up.

 “Hello, Dad!”  a cheery voice that sounded like a cross between Peter Davison and Sandra Dickinson sang out from the other side.  “I thought I recognized your number on the caller ID!  What a pleasant surprise.  I thought you’d never call!”

 Cece nearly dropped the phone.  Emmi caught it and pressed the receiver to her ear.

 “Hello?”  the cheery voice persisted.  “Anybody there?  Oh, I know, you must be breathless from all the running you do with that Donna woman.  I’ll just wait for you, ‘kay?”

 Cece cleared her throat.  “Er, sorry … wrong number,” she stammered hurriedly.  Then, she hung up.

 Grace eyed the two younger girls curiously.  “Well, that was odd.”

Posted in Adventure, Fanfiction, Novels, Science Fiction, X-Men

Preview: WIP X-Men Fanfiction

Two friends from the Young Writers Society are collaborating with me on an X-Men fanfiction.  I’m tentatively calling the story X-23, because the story centers around this character.

In case you’re wondering who this X-23 is, she’s essentially a female clone of Wolverine (don’t ask me how that’s even possible) who was created by the villainous HYDRA organization (you may remember them from Captain America: The First Avenger).  For more information about her, I would suggest watching this episode if X-Men: Evolution, which introduced X-23 to the Marvel universe.  (There do exist subsequent comic books about her, but I have been told they’re absolutely not for prudes.  So yeah, don’t read them.)  She also appeared briefly in the Wolverine and the X-Men cartoon in a slightly different setting with room for further development, but the show only lasted one season and her storyline kind of fell through the cracks.

In my opinion, X-23 didn’t have all that many opportunities to let her awesomeness shine across all mediums.  Twenty minutes of fast-paced animation just doesn’t cut it, and I don’t think it’s fair to kids (and prudes) to continue X-23’s adventures in mature comic books.  So my friends and I decided to work on a story of our own which reintroduces X-23 in a more age-appropriate setting.  Sure, there’s a healthy dose of action and violence, but our characters never “cuss” or otherwise act beneath their dignity.  In short, our story is probably as clean as you can get when it comes to serious superhero stories.

And so, without further ado, I present an excerpt of our story:

image
a collaboration between IAmTraunt, Nightcrawler, and ComicalCrafty

Continue reading “Preview: WIP X-Men Fanfiction”

Posted in Alternate Endings, Fanfiction, Humor, Miscelaneous Musings, Novels, Reviews, Satire, Written Works

A Hyman Kaplan Fanfic Excerpt and One Lengthy Introduction

One of the books I inherited from my grandmother’s personal library was The Return of Hyman Kaplan by Leo Rosten.  It is the sequel to the infamous Education of Hyman Kaplan, which Rosten penned under the sagely-sounding pseudonym, Leonard Q. Ross.  I read them both, out of order, and enjoyed them immensely.  The Hyman Kaplan duology chronicles the misadventures of an olden day night school teacher whose job is to ensure that his culturally diverse class of immigrants to the United States will have a firm grasp on our strange, native language.

Now, this would be a fairly simple process if not for the presence of a student named Hyman Kaplan, an eccentric fellow and a deep thinker who possesses a highly unique understanding of how English works – or should work.  He’s not stupid, you see; his reasoning is surprisingly (almost aggravatingly) philosophical, even if it comes out sounding incredibly silly.  Sometimes, his analysis technically makes sense, but when applied to the English language, it simply cannot work.  Other times, it simply doesn’t.  Either way, the end results are simply hilarious on so many levels.

To top it all off, he writes his name in the most unusual way.  With crayons.  In multiple colors.  And with little stars between each letter.  The minimally formatted text of this post simply cannot do it justice.

I was pretty young I read Hyman Kaplan for the first time.  Even if I didn’t quite get some of the references to the first book, at my young age, I understood enough of the humor, chuckled at the odd ways Mr. Kaplan philosophically butchers the English language, and understood most of the writing.  (“‘Scuse me, Grandma, what does ‘pedagogical’ mean?”)

The books really aren’t bad as books written for adults go, content-wise.  Its humor is intellectual and remains that way throughout the book.  If you love the English language in all of its idiosyncrasy, you’ll put these books back on the shelf with at least one fond memory to laugh about.

I recently looked through some of my old writings, and my eye fell on this story.  I picked it up.

Apparently, at some point, I had attempted to write a fanfiction of Hyman Kaplan, entitled The Employment of Hyman Kaplan.  If my memory serves me correctly, it was to detail the lives of Kaplan, his teacher, and his former classmates after they either graduated, quit, or (most likely in Kaplan’s case–) expelled from the American Night Preparatory School for Adults.

“Mr. Parkhill and the T*R*U*C*K D*R*I*V*E*R”

by Allison Q. Rose

 

It was a dark and stormy … well … evening, as Miss Olga Tarnova – an alumna – would have romantically described it.  (Even if it was snowing, or if it was just plain sunny, the Russian-born ballet dancer would have found some sort of dramatic method of categorizing the day.)

The American Night Preparatory School for Adults had just closed down for the night.  Adults of varying age and ethnicity clamored through the large glass double-doors, pouring out onto the street in clusters, conversing among themselves in their respective languages.  Whether they could actually understand each other remained a mystery.

Mr. Parkhill, a teacher at the school, eyed them all absent-mindedly from the open doorway.

This school (for those who do not already know) was a school for foreigners, new immigrants to the United States of America.  Here, they would learn to master the basics of the English language and its culture, by reading, writing and, most importantly, speaking English.  Being a rather small organization, the ANPSA held three classes: one being for beginners, the next for those who had mastered – and survived – the beginners’ grade, and another for the valedictorian candidates, who were usually the only students who could make it that far.  To most of the ANPSA’s students, the highest grade level seemed as unreachable and elusive as a distant star.

However, the faculty tried to encourage their ambitious charges to work to the best of their potentials, for one day, a rocket ship bearing good grades may one day take these students as far as that distant star.  Mr. Parkhill could only reassure himself in futility that this method of transportation was still in commission. Continue reading “A Hyman Kaplan Fanfic Excerpt and One Lengthy Introduction”

Posted in Absurdity, Doctor Who, Fanfiction, Figgies in the TARDIS, Humor, Miscelaneous Musings, Science Fiction, Short Stories, The Writing Life

Greetings from Camp NaNoWriMo + Short Story

Hello Mother, hello Father….  (If anyone knows what I’m referencing and you’re under fifty, you’re officially cool in my book.)

I’m a camper at the idyllic, online retreat writers know to be Camp NaNoWriMo (not Granada), where people who can’t make the November event or just want an additional similar challenge over the summer can write and have fun!

My project is to write 10,000 words’ worth of short stories over the month of July.  My goal is to write about a thousand words per day, give or take, and since this isn’t for a school project, I’m sure the words will flow like endless rain into a paper cup.  (If John Lennon wrote books, I can only imagine what other artful, odd metaphors he might use.)

Plus, the handy-dandy word count recorder thingie on the Camp NaNo site predicts that I’ll need to write a minimum of 250 words per day to meet my ultimate writing goal, so my personal per-day goal cuts me plenty of slack.  I can take generous breaks if I need, but let’s hope that won’t happen too often.

Today, I finished one of the short stories I was writing for my project.  I don’t have a title for it, but it’s basically a discombobulated prequel to the first Figgies in the TARDIS story.  It presents some odd theories as to where the FITT cast comes from, some awkward moments between Time Lord and companion, and some vague references to a certain time-traveling uncle.

That said, enjoy my on-the-fly handiwork!  (Seriously, my other writings go through minimal editing before I share them with anyone; this is an exception.)

 

 The Doctor lounged on an inflatable … well … lounge chair in the middle of the TARDIS’ swimming pool, engrossed in his favorite Agatha Christie novel, a facsimile edition from the far, far future, long after Jack Harkness, ideally, should have died, of Death in the Clouds.  There were benefits, as it were, to having a swimming pool in the library.

Continue reading “Greetings from Camp NaNoWriMo + Short Story”

Posted in Doctor Who, Fanfiction, Figgies in the TARDIS, Flash Fiction, Satire, Short Stories

“Stuck in an Elevator”

I mentioned earlier that a Figment user has been sharing her daily writing prompts with us.  Today, I was inspired to write a short piece based on her latest prompt: Put two people who hate each other in an elevator for 12 hours. What happens?

Naturally, it had to be about Cece and Jack. 😉  Enjoy the fireworks!


 

I stepped inside the elevator, feeling self-conscious in front of the mirrored walls.  I tried not to stare at the sole other occupant, a strange fellow in a navy trench coat and hat.  He was all too familiar; if I was lucky, he wouldn’t feel the same way about me.

“Captain Jack Harkness,” he said in an oily voice, extending his hand to shake.  “Who might you be?”

Yup, in his timeline, he didn’t know me yet.

I decided to ignore him.  That was the best thing to do.  The last thing I wanted to do was disrupt the time stream.  The second-to-last, have to talk to the most annoying man in the world.  Somehow, I couldn’t picture him being the posterchild for his town as a boy; what about him appealed to them?  If Jack Harkness told me to move to a place, I’d go anywhere but there.  And I wanted to be anywhere but this elevator.

The elevator began its slow descent down to the ground floor.  Chin up, Ryder, I told myself.  You’ll be at the parking garage with Bessie and the Doctor in no time.

When you’re in the vicinity of Jack Harkness, expect the unexpected.  Naturally, the unexpected happened: the elevator froze.  Literally.

Judging by the sound of the Norwegian-accented voices that started singing “Let it Go” as the temperature started to drop, those weren’t Idina Menzel and Demi Lovato behind the mic — or the controls.  It had to be Ylvis.  They’re infamous for pranking elevator passengers.  At least they weren’t singing “What Does the Fox Say?”

“Well,” said Jack, eyeing his own reflection in the mirror, “I guess this means we’re stuck in here.  All alone.  With no one else to talk to.”

I slumped against the hand rail, groaning.  Here I was, stuck in an elevator for who knows how long, accompanied by none other than–

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me your name now, will you?  Otherwise, I’ll just make one up and call you that.”

–Captain Jack Harkness.

“Is ‘Rose’ okay with you?”

Posted in Doctor Who, Fanfiction, Figgies in the TARDIS, Mystery, Science Fiction, Short Stories, Written Works

“Child of Time”

I wrote this after seeing Doctor Who’s “The Angels Take Manhattan”, but before I saw “Asylum of the Daleks” or any of the stories centering around Amy’s baby.  Therefore, I did not know that *SPOILERS* Amy could not have kids anymore.  But you never know, she could’ve seen a doctor in the 30s. 😉

Child of Time

(by Allison Rose)


1932

It was a dark and stormy night.  Just like in the books, River Song mused as she walked down the cobblestone streets of London.  She needed to get started on a book of her own.  It seemed everyone’s lives depended on this action, but River felt it necessary to do it in the company of the two most important lives she’d ever known, the lives who’d been given up to save the world, over and over again.

She glanced down at the paper on which she’d hastily written down their address.  (Somehow, she didn’t feel right using all of her technology here.  It seemed far too peaceful.)  A flash of lightning illuminated the brass number plates on each building.  Only a few more blocks to go before she got to the right place.  221-B Baker Street.

Finally, River stepped quietly into the building, escaping the heavy, pelting raindrops for the moment, and mounted the stairs.

Rory answered the door when she knocked, clad in the most comical blue pajamas River had ever seen, and a pair of glasses perched lopsidedly on his prominent nose.  He looked flustered and confused, as though he’d just been woken up inconveniently from a deep sleep.  Most likely he had.

“Hello, Father,” River said, smiling mischievously. Continue reading ““Child of Time””