Project: In Bloom

Introduction:

Official headquarters for the new science fiction novel, In Bloom, by Andrew Knox. Set thirty years in the future, the protagonist stumbles through a monotonous and difficult existence in a world controlled by the island nation of Tokelau and all of the hackers attached to them. There are three seperate endings that will be in the book. Good news for me! A page in a novel is about 250 words, and one of the pages in my book so far is about 516 in Microsoft Word, so I have twice as much book as I thought I did! If anybody knows of an available publisher, e-mail me at [email protected]! (This book was originally known as "Ignorance is Bliss", but was changed at the writer's discretion.)

Sample Chapter:

A Bag of Fiddly-Sticks

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I woke up, nothing special.  I showered, nothing special.  I got dressed, nothing special.  I ate some synthesized Wheaties, breakfast of chimpanzees, maybe sweeter than usual, but not that pleasant or special.  I turned on the Noozocrohn (Tokelaui for TV) and it's volume knob/on-off switch turned especially not special.  The momentary color phasing was unique and substantial but not important to or even noticed by most humans.  What I saw was something special.

�Martial Law declared by Supreme Order of Justice.  Stay in your quarters and do not turn off the unit or change the channel.�

I flipped it from channel 7 over to channel 13.  The unit silently yelled at me:

�DO NOT CHANGE THE CHANNEL!�

A few seconds later, it started audibly yelling at me.  And it wouldn't shut up.  I tried changing the channel, it was locked up.  I tried ignoring it, that never works, it just yelled louder and louder.  I tried flicking the volume knob down, then tried turning it off.  That worked great, the words went away from the screen, the one problem was:

�DO NOT CHANGE THE CHANNEL! DO NOT CHANGE THE CHANNEL!�

It was still yelling.  I did sneak a glimpse at that wonder of nature known as the electronic phosphor organizing, so beautiful, all the visible colors on at one time for less than a second, it was a prize that only I appreciated and even could see.  It wasn't like that with televisions back in the day, you see, we had different systems, more efficient ones.

�DO NOT CHANGE THE CHANNEL!�

It was still yelling out of the midget speakers.  Although the safety was supposed to prevent things like this.  I grabbed for the power cord, yanked it and the cable broke, the unit was not connected to the wall anymore, and never would again as the plug was still stuck in the outlet.  Something was happening that I knew defied nature and every machine law on record.

�DO NOT CHANGE THE CHANNEL!�

Although it was physically impossible for this to be happening, I still searched for alternatives.  The plug had three strands of former wires coming out of it, emitting a beautiful rain of instant death.  For an ant.  I believed that the removal of power would send my aural sensory units on the road to recovery from a world class ass-whooping, but it did not.

�DO NOT CHANGE THE CHANNEL!  DO NOT CHANGE THE CHANNEL!  DO NOT CHANGE THE CHANNEL!�

I take a quick blink and I am out of my quarters.  I was in the complete darkness.  I say �THE� complete darkness, as there is no darkness that compares, it is like complete blindness, you can make it through an area better with your eyes closed.  Well, I was in the darkness and I was just standing there, when a super bass note was played.  I jumped, and out from the ground came a phosphorous white and green smoke, too dark and bleary to see through.  There was a far away sounding, heavily distorted and completely indistinguishable electric guitar being played by unseen hands.  I closed my eyes, I knew that I didn't want to see what was coming.  Another bass note played and my eyes shot back open against my will.  Then, I saw what there was to be afraid of.

A thin man, very short.  Old, also.  He had a limp on his left leg and a cane to compliment it.  Had one eye comically larger than the other.  And what would be described without dignity as a diaper, but with dignity as a loin cloth.  His hair was peculiar as well, it was silver and yellow highlights matted over brown straight hair.  It was pretty hilarious, but slightly intimidating.

Nothing compared to that big-ass eye he had, it would stare a hole through you bigger than a tank shot.  A dead on hit to your soul.  It could read your mind and see malice, greed, kindness and any other form of intent before the thought reached your brain.  He stood there looking at me from his comfortable position of about thirty feet with the white and green smoke shining his ankles up so well that they could win themselves a blue ribbon at some hick county fair or something.  His face was familiar, not:

�Hey, I saw that guy on the bus the other day.�

It was more like:

�Hey, I saw that guy in the newspaper this morning!�

Kind of familiar.

He lifted his right leg up into the air as if he was about to take a long step over some feces on the ground.  He slammed it down on the ground and the bass note played louder than ever,  as if it was right behind me, but I didn't have the balls to look right now.  Well, he had slid forward several feet.  He raised his foot up again as if he was a caricature of a pacific islander cannibal shaman practicing a dance. Slam, boom and several more feet.  Slam, boom and even more feet. Slam, boom and he was right in front of me.

If there was a moment that I was any more scared than this, I could not remember it.  He just stood there, analyzing my reaction to him ice skating on sound.  When he was done, I saw the fragments of words forming together into wholes on his extensively cracked and chapped lips.

�Boo.�

I laughed, he laughed, she laughed, we laughed, he laughed some more.

Wait, she?

I looked around in the infinite blackness for the feminine laugh, one more thing familiar.  I turned around and saw the image of the guitar player.  I blinked, I wish I didn't.  It all faded to black, then white, then I was back in my apartment and heard the friendly greeting.

�DO NOT CHANGE THE CHANNEL!  DO NOT CHANGE THE CHANNEL!  DO NOT CHANGE THE CHANNEL!�

I tried blinking and I was rewarded with a two second glimpse of a reddish-brown negative.

�Come to me...�

Her face was not like the:

�Hey, I saw that girl on the bus the other day.�

Or at all like the:

�Hey, I saw that girl in the newspaper this morning!�

It was a more personal, almost as if...

I heard a knock at my door, and I was fully back in reality.

I hope that that competely out of context chapter was pleasing, the format of my book is a whole bunch of very short chapters, about a page or two each, so, about 60 chapters estimated. Also, that is the second rough draft of that chapter and has not been entirely polished yet.

Chapters Drafted:

This list is out of order

Deus ex Machina
Fiddlysticks
Movin on up
Nature Walk
Les Yeux Qui Piquent
Queen of the Damned
Eulogy for the Queen of the Damned
Who was Miranda
The boy who sang 'St. Jimmy' during a math test
The day that the World was born
That boy needs therapy
The Atlantis Incident
In a land of make-believe, you don't believe in me
A la Gare
Ending #1
Ending #2
Ending #3

and more still handwritten.

Possible Cover Art:

Introduction:

Sample Chapter:

Chapters Drafted:

Possible Cover Art:

Theme Song:

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