GhostWay left, then came back, and is gone again (without statement) since I haven't seen him in the chat for awhile following his return and you frequent the fourm more than I and think he's gone and I think I think that.
I'm still here! Just been away for over a week, is all. (I've developed a certain disdain for leaving such messages in The Airport.)
Yeah, I had some stories here way back when. Over a year-and-a-half ago, methinks. Now, I have three major book ideas kicking around in my head, clanging their cheap prison mugs on the brain cell doors and screaming to be let out by way of graphite. But at the moment, all that gets out are ideas and reminders such as "English, the linguistic cannibal" and "Latin was dead, which is about as foreign as one could get." Along with things like multidimensional cyclical time and Zeugojeswehlahthogan, an n-dimesional sentience with a gods complex, but that's a long story (and fairly new on the idea list).
And then there's the world made out of a dead moth crystalis, and the man who travels great distances by walking through doors (with the aid of a quantum-reality skeleton key), and the secret angsty journals of the goddess Kali who hates her job of destroying the world because it makes everyone think she's evil, and the hollow man who's missing half a physical dimesion due to an accident with quantum physics and a canteloupe, and the cylindrical spaceship <i>Zephyros</i>, and a tongue-in-cheek parody of stereotypical <i>noir</i> detective stories. But most of those haven't gotten very far. They're still hanging around in my mind's lobby, though, hoping to catch the next neuron train to the typewriter.
Speaking of which, I do my notetaking in a journal, but a fair amount of rough drafts on an old manual typewriter. Why do I do this? Well, I'd like to know the answer to that one myself. Especially since I can't use it all that well.
I'm also writing a comic strip, which will probably be presentable in a week or so, but that's neither here nor there. I originally wrote the scripts by typewriter and then typed them into Word, until a clerk in the back of my head started screaming, "Are you insane? This is horribly inefficient! Productivity is down 25% and the neurons are so worn out that they've been trying to wear their coffee as <i>gloves!</i> And the teal armadillo just ate my tie-- WHY IS THERE AN ARMADILLO IN HERE?!" At which point I started typing straight into Word. You don't want to upset the neural accountants.
ETA: Just looked back on the previous thread. I'd completely forgotten about Marvin Blunt! I'm gonna have to dig that up; that was fun writing. I might also mention that I have plans for a play, but that's off a ways.