Word: Sonorous

sonorous

[suh-nawr-uh s, -nohr-, son-er-uh s]

adjective

1. giving out or capable of giving out a sound, especially a deep, resonant sound, as a thing or place:

a sonorous cavern.

2. loud, deep, or resonant, as a sound.

3. rich and full in sound, as language or verse.

4. high-flown; grandiloquent:

a sonorous speech.

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                “No.” Said Nick.  He didn’t even bother looking up from his book as he said it.

                “Why not?” Gary, Nick’s son, asked.

                “Because I’m not paying for you to go into such a useless field.”

                “Game music isn’t useless, dad.”

                “Yes, it is.  Trust me, son, nothing will come of it.  Besides, video games don’t have real music, they have beeps.  Now, if you wanted to go into musical field with actual merit, than that’s one thing.  But video game music has none.  It’s not even real music anyway.”

                “That’s just not true.  Video game music is real music, and it’s important for a multi-billion dollar industry.  Besides, game music hasn’t consisted of beeps since, like, the 70s.”

                “I think I know what I’m talking about, son.” Nick said as he finally looked up from the paper.  “I’ve done my research.”

                “Oh come on, you can’t call looking at one article online as research.  Besides, who do you trust more, some guy you’ve never met and has unknown qualifications, or your own son, who not only plays, but reviews video games frequently?”

                “Tough call.”

                Gary looked at his father with an annoyed look.  He wasn’t sure if his father was being serious or not.  He also didn’t care much.

                “Look, dad, take it from me, I know.  Video game music is a big deal.  If a game doesn’t have good music, the game won’t be nearly as well received.”

                “I’ve listened to some of this so called music, and it was nothing but arranged beeps.  Hardly real music.”

                “Yeah, maybe for a low budget indie game, but not the big names.  Here, I’ll prove it to you.”

                Gary took out his phone and started swiping and poking at the screen.  In a few minutes, a complex, sonorous melody issued forth from the small speaker.  It was moody, deep, and invoked a variety of emotions.

                “That’s not bad.  What is it?  Beethoven? No, not him.  Hmm, I’m afraid I don’t recognize the composer.”  Nick said, listening to the music.

                “It’s a song from a video game.”  Gary said.  “One that I have.  I can show you where in the game it comes up.”

                “You’re joking, right?”

                “Nope.  Trust me, dad.  Video game music is a big deal these days.  There’s even entire concerts dedicated to game music.  Sure there’s still some weird stuff out there, but a lot of it’s really good.  Game sound tracks do just as well as movie sound tracks these days.”

                As the music ran its course, Nick thought about what his son was telling him.  It was completely at odds with everything he had read online, and he didn’t quite believe everything he had just heard was from a video game, but Gary seemed to believe it.  Still, before he could sign off on his son going to college for game music, he needed to confirm it for himself.

                “All right, tell you what.  I’ll watch you play a video game, and if you can convince me that game music is a legitimate art form, then I’ll be okay with you majoring in it.”

                Gary’s face lit up.  “Great!  I know just the one.”

***************************************************

One of my favorite pieces of game music.  One of the most famous pieces of game music.  Yeah, it's a big deal these days.

Word: Arrears

arrears

[uh-reerz]

plural noun

1. the state of being behind or late, especially in the fulfillment of a duty, promise, obligation, or the like:

Many homeowners have fallen into arrears.

2. Sometimes, arrear. something overdue in payment; a debt that remains unpaid:

Those countries that have paid their arrears may be granted additional loans.

Idioms

3. in arrears, behind or late, especially in payment:

She was three months in arrears on her mortgage and credit card payments.

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                Cold water splashed on Tom’s face, jolting him back to alertness.  He sputtered and coughed as the water rolled down his clothes and throat.  He tried to wipe it away, but found his hands were tied behind the chair he was sitting in.  He shook his head to get rid of the water instead.

                Once his face was as dry as it was going to get, he took a look around.  He was in a dimly lit, mostly empty room.  The only thing in it was the chair he sat on, and the people around him.  Two of them were very large, very rough looking men that had likely been the cause of his arrival.  He didn’t know who they were.  The third was a much smaller man with sharp, eagle like features.  He did know that one.

                “Oh, hey Gary, who’s it going?”  Tom said.

                “Honestly, it could be better, Tom, it really could.” Gary replied. 

                “Sorry to hear that.  I’d offer to help, but I’m a bit tied up at the moment.”

                “I’m sure.  But even with your current state, I’m sure you can help me quite a bit.”

                “I’m all ears.”

                “Tom, you remember that money you borrowed from my bosses?”

                “Can’t say I do.  Remind me, huh?”

                In fact, Tom did remember the money.  He remembered it quite well.  And how he had used it on investments that didn’t quite pan out the way he had hoped they would.  He shifted his wrists around in an attempt to loosen the knots.  He might be able to make a break for the door behind Gary.  It wasn’t a great chance, but it was something.

                “You, sir, borrowed a sum totaling five hundred thousand dollars from my employer.  You were given a generous grace period before repayment was asked for.  And after that, you were given a very reasonable repayment plan, and a very low interest rate on the loan.”

                “Oh yeah, I think it’s starting to come back to me.”

                Gary continued as if Tom hadn’t said anything, “And yet, to this day, you have yet to pay back a single cent of it.  My employers are not very happy with this, you understand.”

                “Yeah, sure.”

                “Well, they would very much like their money.  They’ve given you ample notice of this, and yet you have ignored every single one.  Why is that, Tom?”

                “Oh, you know.  This and that.  Stuff happens, people lose things, things get misplaced.  You know, life and stuff.”

                Gary smiled and huffed out a tiny laugh.  “Yes, life and stuff.”  He said.  “It’s for those reasons that you were given so many chances and warnings.  Well, that last warning you got?  It was your last.  Now my employer needs a method of repayment, and they need it quite quickly.  They’ve decided to simply take everything you’re worth.  How does that sound?”

                “Honestly?  Not ideal.”

                “Yes, well, you should have paid attention to the warnings when you had the chance.  If you had, you wouldn’t be here now.”

                “Say, uh, Gary, why am I here anyway?”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Well, your boss takes everything I own, right?  That’s my house and everything in it.  I get that.  I don’t like it, but I get it.  So why am I here?”

                “Oh, I see your confusion.  You see, when I say everything you’re worth, I mean everything.  It’s not just your personal possessions that have value, you know.”

                Tom felt his blood run cold.  He redoubled his efforts to undo his bonds, but he was no escape artist.  The metal door opened and a man dressed in red and white clothes entered.  He pushed a metal cart in front of him.  From his position, Tom couldn’t see what was on it, but he could imagine. 

                “For the record,” Gary said, “I do wish it had been otherwise.  I do like you Tom, I really do.  I wish things didn’t have to be this way.  Goodbye Tom.” 

*****************************************

Yeah, he probably won't survive that.  It's...it's probably not going to be pretty either.

Also, in case you forgot, I have a book published.  Check it out please.  Pwetty pwease?  

Special Something

What's this?  An update that isn't a story?  What is the world coming to?  The thing is, I've got an announcement to make.

A few months ago, I started doing something.  Something I've never tried before.  I started writing a book. 

That book is not ready yet. 

But it did lead to something else.  I have taken the first 52 stories from this blog and used them.  I've updated them.  Brought them up to a new level.  Some of them were expanded well passed the word count limit I use here.  Some of them have been almost completely reworked.  All of them have improved grammar.  Then, I put them together and published them.  And right now, that collection is available on Amazon.  Now, I have only made it available for download from the kindle store, but it's there.

This is, for me, a huge thing.  Up until this point, writing has always been a hobby for me.  Something to do for fun more than anything else.  But now...now it's something bigger than that.  Now I can say I'm not just a writer, I'm an author.  A published author.  And that's pretty cool for me.

So check it out.  Download a copy if you want.  Don't worry, it's not terribly expensive.  And I'm pretty sure it's worth the cost.

Now, I'm off to continue writing that book I mentioned.  And after that, it's on to Volume 2.   

Word: Tweedle

            

tweedle

[tweed-l]

verb (used without object), tweedled, tweedling.

1. to produce high-pitched, modulated sounds, as a singer, bird, or musical instrument.

2. to perform lightly upon a musical instrument.

verb (used with object), tweedled, tweedling.

3. to lure by or as by music:

The Pied Piper tweedled the children into following him.

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               The sound was faint.  So faint, in fact, that he could barely hear it.  But it was there, just audible over the sounds of the city.  It was sweat and melodic, and it was clearly telling a story.  He just couldn’t tell what the story was, since it lacked words.

                Nobody else seemed to hear it though.  The streets were crowded with people, and not one of them reacted to the music.  He wasn’t sure if it was because they were all too distracted to hear it.  Everyone was paying attention to a phone, or music player, or watch, or something similar.  He wanted to rip all the distractions away.  He wanted to shout for everyone to be quiet for a moment.  He didn’t.  he knew it would just get him strange looks from anyone who heard him.

                Instead, he just started walking.  He had to find the source of the music.  He could tell the rough direction, and he headed towards it.  The music never seemed to get any louder, no matter how far he walked.  But it never got any fainter either.  It was always there, just at the edge of his hearing.

                The sound brought him to a park.  Of course it did.  Such a beautiful sound could never come from one of the cold, sterile buildings.  No, the park was the only real source.  And yet, even there, the people seemed oblivious to the enchanting melody. 

                He ignored the masses and headed off to find the source.  The people grew thinner.  Less numerous.  It was like they were avoiding the source of the music.  That didn’t make any sense.  Why would someone want to avoid such a beautiful sound?  They should be flocking to it.

                After an agonizing few minutes of searching, he finally found it.  The source of the music.  A woman…no, not a woman, an angel.  The diving visage sat on a stone, dressing in a flowing white robe.  Her hair shone in the daylight, and her lips were parted, producing the music, along with a small golden harp on her lap.

                Her body glowed with divine radiance, and two soft, golden wings protruded from her back.  That was how he knew she was an angel, and not a woman.  How could she be anything else?  He marveled at the beauty of her visage and her music.  Truly, only an angel could produce such a sound.

                He took a step towards her, and his foot cracked on a stick.  Her brilliant blue eyes shot open and she stopped the music.  He stopped walking, with his foot still on the offending piece of wood.  They looked at each other for a moment.  That brief period seemed to last an eternity in his mind.

                She smiled.  A delicate thing that pierced his heart like a spear.  She held out one divine hand to him.  His feet were very nearly floating as he went to take the offered hand.  Her skin was soft and warm.  She smelled like honey and flowers.

                She stood and smiled.  Her teeth were odd.  Not like an angel’s should be, but he put it out of his mind.  He had never seen an angel before, so he didn’t know what their teeth would look like. 

                She moved closer to him and started singing.  He voice was louder than it had been.  But that was to be expected, since she was so close to him.  A sense of peace and happiness came over him as he listened to her wordless song.  He felt himself growing tired and heavy.  His legs no longer wanted to support his weight, so he sat.  Then his head no longer wanted to stay up, so he lay down. 

                As his eyes no longer wanted to remain opened, he looked up at her.  Her divine glow was starting to fade, and his eyes focused on the rows of sharp, pointed teeth in her mouth.

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If someone has pointed teeth like that, you probably shouldn't stick around.  It's not a good sign.  Even with animals, it's not usually good to stay around things with sharp teeth.  Cats and dogs are one thing, but even they can turn unpleasant if they get into a biting mood. So yeah, harp teeth=bad more often than not.

Word: Skerrick

                

skerrick

[sker-ik]

noun, Australian.

1. a small piece or quantity; a bit: Not even a skerrick of cake was left.

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              Lance wearily dumped the small number of tiny berries onto a leaf and collapsed onto the sand.  The sun beat down on him, but he had long since stopped caring.  It wasn’t like he had any sun block.

                “That’s it?” Wendy asked, looking at the tiny bit of food.

                “Yeah, that’s it.”

                “Please tell me you’re joking.  Please, please tell me you’ve got something else hidden somewhere?”

                “Nope, sorry.  That’s it.”

                Wendy groaned.  The way things were going for them, they wouldn’t last much longer.  The island looked so lush and green, they had thought there wouldn’t be any problems finding food.  And yet, they had quickly found that most of what they saw was inedible. 

                “Can’t you go fishing or something?”

                “There aren’t any.  Not unless we go back out there.”

                Wendy looked out onto the ocean.  It looked calm and peaceful, but she knew otherwise.  After the number of storms the two of them had been through, she had no desire to head back out unless it was something much larger and more stable than their small life raft.

                “Are you sure?” She asked.

                “I’ve looking in all the ponds I could find.  There aren’t any fish in any of them.  Maybe we could try and comb the beach for shellfish, but that’s about it.”

                “Great.  Tiny bits of crab, or tiny bits of berries.  Yay.”

                “It’s better than nothing.” Lance said. 

He didn’t believe his own words.  The tiny portions wouldn’t even be enough for a child, let alone two adults.  The tiny number of berries wouldn’t be nearly enough to hold back starvation.  In fact, it was almost worse than having no food at all, since all it did was remind them of how hungry they were.

“Uh huh.”

They sat in silence, more out of some misguided attempt to conserve energy than anything else.  Neither of them wanted to be out in the hot sun, but they lacked the energy needed to move.  It was a wonder Lance had managed to gather as much as he had.

“You know, I read somewhere that ants and grasshoppers and stuff are edible.” He said eventually.

“Oh god, you’re not seriously suggesting we eat bugs, are you?”

“It’s food.  And it’s just about the only source of it that we know is plentiful.  So yeah, I am suggesting we eat bugs.  We can gather them up and cook them or something.”

“We are not eating bugs.”

“We have to eat something.”

“There has to be something on this island other than bugs and berries to eat.  I mean, there’s got to be birds or something at the very least.”

“I haven’t seen or heard any birds since we got here.  And even if there were, how would we catch them?”

Wendy didn’t answer.  She knew he was right.  They hadn’t seen any wildlife that had less than six legs since they washed up on the island.  It was unsettling who quiet the place was. 

“Okay, fine, we can try it.”  She said with a sigh.

Lance did not look happy with his victory.  They might have had a source of food, but that didn’t mean it would be pleasant.  Plus, the small size of their new food source made them only slightly better than the berries.  But, it was indeed something.  Something that would hopefully see them to their rescue, if it ever came. 

********************************************

Getting stuck on an island sounds terrible, especially if there's no food.  With food, it would at least be tolerable for a while, but even then, it'd suck.  Even if you prefer being alone, it'd get to you sooner or later.