Day 577

I try to keep my competitive instinct under control, but it tends to surface for things like trivia contests and Rock Band... and chocolate. Our Creative Writing teacher had no idea what she was unleashing when she announced the prize for a quick in-class competition would be chocolate bars.

My vision turned red. MUST EAT CHOCOLATE!

The contest really was quite simple: working in groups of five, we had ten minutes to write the opening lines to a piece of bad genre fiction.

Here’s the thing: I am a grandmaster of bad genre fiction.

Western: The hard sun blazed from the big sky as Dusty rode his deep-chested dun into the small, nameless town in the Sierra Madres, his namesake trail of dust settling on the listless men lounging on benches in front of the saloon as he dismounted. The sheriff stepped out of his office and looked Dusty over with hard eyes, but the cowboy, dog-tired from days on the trail, didn’t stop to talk. Pushing back his white ten-gallon and settling his six-shot hawgs more firmly in their holsters, he strode through the batwing doors of the saloon into the dim interior. Seconds later, shots rang out…

Detective: I looked at the clock on the stained office wall. Although it only read nine a.m., it was probably eleven o’clock somewhere, so I poured myself an eyeopener, then settled back to either read the pile of bills on my desk or contemplate life as a lousy joke. I had just settled on the latter when my next client walked in, a tall cool blonde poured into a tight red dress. “Are you Jimmy Drake the private eye?” she purred, not batting an eye at the open bottle of whiskey. “That’s what the sign on the door says, sister. Drag up a seat and I’ll pour you some breakfast…”

Fantasy: Argalain the Pirate paused as he crested the mountain pass, bewonderment crossing his face at the terrible sight before him. A giant serpent, fangs glistening with black venom, hissed in anger at the unwanted intrusion, the fainting maiden caught within its coils forgotten for the moment. With a cry, Argalain loosed his magical sword Madralin, honed by elvish smiths in the fires of Nithond, and swung it about his head as he charged into battle…

Science Fiction: Argalain the Space Pirate paused as he teleported into the mountain pass, bewonderment crossing his face at the terrible sight before him. A giant serpent, fangs glistening with black venom, hissed in anger at the unwanted intrusion, the fainting fembot caught within its coils forgotten for the moment. With a cry, Argalain activated his laser sword, honed by elvish technicians on the planet Nithond, and swung it about his head as he charged into battle…

You see what I mean. When it comes to bad writing, I can write with the worst of them. The contest was pretty well over before it had begun. Mmmmm, chocolate.

On to Human Resources, where we are finishing up the last few classes with some consideration of union labour laws in Canada.

In Sensory, the various groups presented beers as if the class represented a tasting panel, and gathered information about the various beers tasted. We have a week to collate the results and make a presentation to the class as well as a written report.

Unfortunately the tastings took so long that I had to discard my plan for the evening. Mark Murphy, who graduated from the first Brewmaster class a year ago, has become the very first graduate of the course to start his own brewery. He recently joined forces with his wife to form Left Field Brewing, a contract brewery with cleverly baseball-themed beers like 6-4-3 IPA. Alas, the launch party was in Toronto, and by the time we got out of our final class, it was far too late to make the 150-km trek around Lake Ontario during rush hour.

I’ll just have to wait for another Left Field event and buy two of Mark’s beers.

Advertisements
Explore posts in the same categories: Brewmaster

Tags: , , , , ,

You can comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.

6 Comments on “Day 577”

  1. Canageek Says:

    Ok, doing space opera is a cheap way out. Do some Hard Science Fiction genre fiction and we’ll talk.

    • Alan Brown Says:

      Having decelerated into a stable orbit, Argalain calculated the Heisenberg Uncertainty Factor successfully and teleported into the mountain pass, where bewonderment crossing his face at the terrible sight before him. A giant Agkistrodon contortrix, fangs glistening with black venom, hissed in anger at the unwanted intrusion…

      Just add tect tech tech to convert to hard science.

      • Canageek Says:

        No, that is Soft Science Fiction. Hard Science Fiction is based on the extrapolation of current science. Very hard science fiction doesn’t even allow FTL travel, though a lot of authours are willing to handwave that bit.

  2. Andrea Says:

    So when’s your next novel coming out? Chortle…. but you could, you know!


  3. Just stumbled onto your blog while researching Brewmaster stuff. Recognize your photo as I saw you at the open house a few months ago. I’m starting the program in September. Enjoying your blog a lot. Particularly this post, laughed out loud at the fantasy/sci-fi transition.

    • Alan Brown Says:

      Congrats on making it into the program. Since I am working at the college now, I look forward to meeting you in September. There is a Facebook page for 1st-year Brewmaster students. Email me (studentofbeer@gmail.com) if you want details.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: