Matt Zenn

[Insert the title of P!nk's fourth album here]

Well first off I think I need to change my name to Aria or something just to get closer to the top of the alphabet.

But that's just random thoughts.

Still not much movement on Crossroads BUT I have been having idea's flicker here and there so that's a good sign. Been working on a few other things but nothing that done enough to print.

All that sad admission of low productivity aside how ever I wanted to share a little list of things that i made. Specifically it's a list of things to avoid in stories.

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Feast or Famine

Can you have both?

I've been working on Crossroads two and I have written a ton of stuff for it but it's not pulling together into the story I'm trying to tell. If it was as simple as turning into a different story then I would just go with it. I mean sometime you write the story and sometimes the story kidnaps your family and threatens them at gun point until you give into it's demands.

Wait. What?!

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I'm never going to learn

This only vaguely has anything to do with anything more than I'm frustrated and decided to vent here rather than there.

There of course being the name for the inside of the old freezer I keep the bodies in...

any hoo

So years ago I played Magic the Gathering with my little brother.

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Trials

Well after far longer than I might have hoped for, Part Two of my The Center story has been posted. Titled Crossroads, it deals with the life of a very ordinary extraordinary boy whose life suddenly gets very VERY interesting.

You know... in the Chinese Curse sense of the word.

All told there will be six parts to the first "book" and I am about a sixth done with book two. Thanks for reading and have a great day.

~Matt

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Welcome to Teslaville (1)

In honor of Halloween, a Whateley Academy Fanfiction

Welcome to Teslaville!

by Matt Zenn

Teslaville, California
April/1/2002

A faceless man looms out of the darkness. He moves with a fluid grace that Harm finds hard to watch. Without a glance Harm's way the man walks away down a street that Harm has not noticed before. As Harm looks around he sees others like the man. A fearsome loneliness wells up within him and he cries out to those around him but none of them react. Harm stands amidst the throng and is unheard, unseen, unknown.

"Why won't any of you speak?" he shouts but they continue on their way as if he did not exist at all. The weight of their disregard drags him down and he collapses, great chains at his wrists, drowning in a sea of anonymity.

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