A Memo from the RIO Building
Our writers, editors, killer flamingo trainers, and designers are almost finished with the Reality is Optional Optional Guide to Reality (and writing), formerly known as the Steamy Goat. They want to let you know that the book will be available on Amazon, and will be available in Fall 2023!
(Isn't it exciting? we can sense your joy from here).
(Isn't it exciting? we can sense your joy from here).
The Scientists from the RIO building's science fiction room asks you to please take caution when ingesting bananas. Tiny gremlins that are relatively the size of atoms may (or may not) have escaped and taken residence in said bananas. They have the capacity to build up in the digestive system until they can control you from the inside. If you find your actions becoming out of your control, run screaming with arms raised and find Insomnia, The Barista. He will give you a cup of theatre coffee, which not only melts spoons but also gremlins.
We know you, and our Narwhalogist, are doing a happy dance about having a writing book created by youth for youth and are super pumped to read the snappy writing tips and techniques plus an amazing story where YOU are the main character. If you want to stay informed about all that is happening with this book (like when you can pre-order it or when we are having our launch party or even, when we release our swag) just fill out the form below and we will be in touch. We promise not to sell your info to the darkness.
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PART ONE - Before you start your thing
WELCOME TO THE REALITY IS OPTIONAL OPTIONAL GUIDE TO REALITY
We are so happy you have joined us! Please make yourself at home. You are a writer and as such, you belong here. Where is here? Well, the RIO Building of course! Luckily it’s one of those spaces you can hold inside your mind so, very much like the 24-hour Coffee Shop, it is available whenever you need it.
Here we will introduce you to all kinds of writing tips and tricks that we’ve learned throughout the years and find helpful. Read this book in any order you like, and as much or as little as you want. After all, different writers start in different places and require different things. There is no right or wrong way to approach this book, so have fun!
But first… before you begin -
THREE IMPORTANT PIECES OF ADVICE:
MOST IMPORTANT! SAVE YOUR WORK! SAVE IN AT LEAST TWO DIFFERENT PLACES, AND SAVE FREQUENTLY. (Please don’t be sad about losing your work. Save on the cloud and on a thumb drive, hard drive, or a Mesopotamian stone tablet. Don’t trust technology - it will bite you eventually).
INSPIRATION IS A LIE
You are full of inspiration. That’s great! Unfortunately, Inspiration is quick to abandon writers when the work gets hard, which is pretty much right away. Writing isn’t easy, it takes time. And getting good at it requires practice. There’s no workaround. We at Reality Is Optional believe in you! If you make a plan to write once a day for even 10-20 minutes - squeezing it in between your numerous activities and math homework, OR on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, OR even as often as you can manage, you will improve your skills and inevitably finish your story.
THE BEGINNING IS NOT THE HARDEST PART
The hardest part is the middle. You will get there and nothing will make sense. You’ll more often than not hit writer’s block, and you’ll want to quit. Don’t. Grab your favorite snack, find some awesome writing music, and look at your plot (we’ll get to that later in this chapter) to see if either you’ve gone off the rails and need to get back on track OR your characters don’t have a really solid Goal, Motive, Conflict (also coming later in this chapter) OR maybe something else. Whatever it is, you will pick a path and slog forward. All you need to do is write. It doesn’t matter if it’s messy, garbage, not at all working. It’s probably better than you think and you can’t fix what’s not on the page - so get it down. When you are done a scene - reward yourself with a quick online cat video, or a fifteen-minute game break, then get back to work. It’s not called the murky middle for nothing - but when you finally get past it and meet the end of your story, typing THE END, it will be like fireworks. There’s nothing like it. Trust me.
Now, on with the show!
WELCOME TO THE REALITY IS OPTIONAL OPTIONAL GUIDE TO REALITY
We are so happy you have joined us! Please make yourself at home. You are a writer and as such, you belong here. Where is here? Well, the RIO Building of course! Luckily it’s one of those spaces you can hold inside your mind so, very much like the 24-hour Coffee Shop, it is available whenever you need it.
Here we will introduce you to all kinds of writing tips and tricks that we’ve learned throughout the years and find helpful. Read this book in any order you like, and as much or as little as you want. After all, different writers start in different places and require different things. There is no right or wrong way to approach this book, so have fun!
But first… before you begin -
THREE IMPORTANT PIECES OF ADVICE:
MOST IMPORTANT! SAVE YOUR WORK! SAVE IN AT LEAST TWO DIFFERENT PLACES, AND SAVE FREQUENTLY. (Please don’t be sad about losing your work. Save on the cloud and on a thumb drive, hard drive, or a Mesopotamian stone tablet. Don’t trust technology - it will bite you eventually).
INSPIRATION IS A LIE
You are full of inspiration. That’s great! Unfortunately, Inspiration is quick to abandon writers when the work gets hard, which is pretty much right away. Writing isn’t easy, it takes time. And getting good at it requires practice. There’s no workaround. We at Reality Is Optional believe in you! If you make a plan to write once a day for even 10-20 minutes - squeezing it in between your numerous activities and math homework, OR on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, OR even as often as you can manage, you will improve your skills and inevitably finish your story.
THE BEGINNING IS NOT THE HARDEST PART
The hardest part is the middle. You will get there and nothing will make sense. You’ll more often than not hit writer’s block, and you’ll want to quit. Don’t. Grab your favorite snack, find some awesome writing music, and look at your plot (we’ll get to that later in this chapter) to see if either you’ve gone off the rails and need to get back on track OR your characters don’t have a really solid Goal, Motive, Conflict (also coming later in this chapter) OR maybe something else. Whatever it is, you will pick a path and slog forward. All you need to do is write. It doesn’t matter if it’s messy, garbage, not at all working. It’s probably better than you think and you can’t fix what’s not on the page - so get it down. When you are done a scene - reward yourself with a quick online cat video, or a fifteen-minute game break, then get back to work. It’s not called the murky middle for nothing - but when you finally get past it and meet the end of your story, typing THE END, it will be like fireworks. There’s nothing like it. Trust me.
Now, on with the show!
IDEAS
So… You have an idea…
You are a writer, and as such, you have an idea - or many ideas. Probably too many ideas all jumbled in a large chaotic ball. Perhaps they are in the form of a handful of random characters. Maybe it’s a world you’ve built. It might even be a story premise. Whatever it is, you want to write it - but where to start?
Writers Suck… ideas from everywhere
You probably already have an idea for a story. Great! But don’t stop there.
IDEAS FROM THE WEIRD
Ideas are all around you and writers suck them in and use them as their own. Say you misread a sign. “Used cats? Huh? Wait, it said used cars… oh that makes so much more sense.” But now you’re thinking about used cats. What if your character was a used cat salesperson? How would that work? What did these used cats used to be? Magical familiars, animatronic pets, or are they just family cats that need rehoming? Now you have the beginnings of a super weird but unique story bouncing around in your head.
IDEAS FROM THE BRAIN STORM
Of course, you can force the issue. Sit down with a piece of paper and a timer. Write as many one-line ideas as fast as you can. Don’t stop even if they are stupid (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, anyone?). When the timer chimes (after 10-30 minutes) see what you have. Pick your top three and imagine writing them. Would you have fun doing it? If so, give it a shot. Why not? You’re a writer, and writing is fun!
THE PEOPLE!
People-watching is another way to get great ideas. Watch how people are different from each other in speech styles, gait, posture, status, and more. Listen to conversations in line, on the bus or train, in the hallways at school, or wherever you end up. It might trigger an amazing idea for a story, scene, joke, or character. You never know. Be open to everything.
JUST LET IT HAPPEN
There is nothing more fun, in my humble opinion, than letting the randomness of the universe decide on what you will be writing about. Not only does it stretch your abilities to come up with a story but there are literally no stakes. It’s not your story. If you mess it up utterly (which you 99.9% are unlikely to do), it doesn’t matter. You answer to no one! We have a handy dandy story prompt randomizer in our Supplementary Material section. Give it a try. It might be your next big story!
So… You have an idea…
You are a writer, and as such, you have an idea - or many ideas. Probably too many ideas all jumbled in a large chaotic ball. Perhaps they are in the form of a handful of random characters. Maybe it’s a world you’ve built. It might even be a story premise. Whatever it is, you want to write it - but where to start?
Writers Suck… ideas from everywhere
You probably already have an idea for a story. Great! But don’t stop there.
IDEAS FROM THE WEIRD
Ideas are all around you and writers suck them in and use them as their own. Say you misread a sign. “Used cats? Huh? Wait, it said used cars… oh that makes so much more sense.” But now you’re thinking about used cats. What if your character was a used cat salesperson? How would that work? What did these used cats used to be? Magical familiars, animatronic pets, or are they just family cats that need rehoming? Now you have the beginnings of a super weird but unique story bouncing around in your head.
IDEAS FROM THE BRAIN STORM
Of course, you can force the issue. Sit down with a piece of paper and a timer. Write as many one-line ideas as fast as you can. Don’t stop even if they are stupid (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, anyone?). When the timer chimes (after 10-30 minutes) see what you have. Pick your top three and imagine writing them. Would you have fun doing it? If so, give it a shot. Why not? You’re a writer, and writing is fun!
THE PEOPLE!
People-watching is another way to get great ideas. Watch how people are different from each other in speech styles, gait, posture, status, and more. Listen to conversations in line, on the bus or train, in the hallways at school, or wherever you end up. It might trigger an amazing idea for a story, scene, joke, or character. You never know. Be open to everything.
JUST LET IT HAPPEN
There is nothing more fun, in my humble opinion, than letting the randomness of the universe decide on what you will be writing about. Not only does it stretch your abilities to come up with a story but there are literally no stakes. It’s not your story. If you mess it up utterly (which you 99.9% are unlikely to do), it doesn’t matter. You answer to no one! We have a handy dandy story prompt randomizer in our Supplementary Material section. Give it a try. It might be your next big story!
Chapter Five - Insomnia
After traversing four floors - only using the stairs because you are NEVER using that elevator again, not even to vaccuum - you’ve met The Rogue Poet, someone called Muse, a whole pack of young journalists, and a Deadline looking for The Novelmancer - whatever that is - but not one of them was expecting a package. Once more, you tackle the stairs and after going down staircase after staircase you find yourself inexplicably on the sixtieth floor.
You’ve never gone up. Not at any point. This makes no sense.
You decide to maybe try the hallways instead, and it turns out this floor has more twists and turns than King Minos’ labyrinth. You spot a bright blue paper arrow with the word COFFEE scrawled unevenly on it. It hangs at an angle, barely taped to the wall, before falling off with a laminated wobble. Tentatively following the arrow’s original direction, you are faced with a landing where you can clearly see the words Level One before you. You never went down. In fact, you can see the sign for Level Sixty from where you are standing and the stairs on that side are upside down.
Before your brain can short circut, the euphoric scent of freshly ground coffee beans and brewing dark roast hits your nose. Delightful. Turning yet another corner, a flickering neon sign with a coffee cup and the words C_FF_E SH_P O_EN 2_ HO_RS angelically glows, significantly too low on the wall for a sign like that. Next to it, a red door hangs ajar. The tiny bells on the frosted glass door tinkles as you open it. Smiling, you take in the warm yellow glow and worn red vinyl that washes away the beige torture from your soul. You pull up a duct taped stool, placing the package on the dark honey counter. The wood surface has been thoroughly marked up with poetry and long arguments between someone who has terrible grammar and someone who seems to care very much about correcting it.
“Hey,” a tired voice greets you.
The Barista is tall. His half-bleached hair is tied messily into a bun, though most of it has come loose. His eyes have dark purple bags beneath them, and his irises are bright yellow x-marks - like a deceased cartoon character. He yawns as he wipes a rag across the counter, before launching it haphazardly into the sink and wiping his hands on a coffee-splattered pyjama shirt.
“What can I get for you?” he asks, tightening his red plaid button-up around his waist before walking over to take your order.
“I need coffee,” you sigh.
“Me too.” He reaches for one of his three pots and pours a tall cup of thick black liquid, pushing it in front of you. He smiles. “I’m Insomnia, the barista. Cream and sugar?”
You nod pouring as much of each as the cup will allow. Insomnia hands you a spoon and you begin to stir.
“I’m… ” You start to introduce yourself but are interrupted as the clinks of metal spoon on the ceramic cup change tone the more you mix. Curious, you pull the utensil out of the murky brownish liquid, only to find half the spoon gone.
“What is this stuff?”
“Theatre coffee,” Insomnia explains, “How are you finding things?”
“Well,” you start, frustration floating to the surface, “I’m not! I’m supposed to deliver this package, but it has no stupid name OR room number. The elevator tried to kill me, The Editor was… was…” You have to think about it.
“I agree. The Editor is very was.” Insomnia nods.
You sigh. ”I should have just become a goat herder in Iceland and sworn off writing forever.”
“Except,” Insomnia says, “you can’t.”
“Why?” you pout.
“Because you don’t know anything about goat husbandry.” He laughs, taking a sip of his own coffee.
“How do you know? Maybe I’m an Icelandic goat herding master and quit to come here and write.”
“Then it would be a waste to leave so soon.” Insomnia offers you a napkin. “Hungry?”
He gestures to a rack of pizza, warmed by heat lamps.
You cock your eyebrow. “Will it melt the plate?”
He smiles. “It’s better than it looks.”
“Okay.” You nod.
He sets a slice in front of you.
Devouring the greasy pizza, you feel much more agreeable. While you eat, Insomnia picks up an energy drink, wafting the sweet chemical scent beneath his nose, considers both his half-empty mug of coffee and the energy drink, before tipping the entire can into his mug. He takes a swig of his concoction and grimaces.
“Good?” you ask, not being able to hold back a incredulous grin.
“I’ve had worse,” Insomnia shrugs. He pulls a tiny pen from behind his ear and scrawls a map on a napkin. “If you’re still game for completing your ‘quest’, you could always ask the Narwhalogist. They’re always ordering wacky stuff. Head to the X.”
You grab the package and the map and hop off the barstool.
“Thanks!”
“Feel free to come back whenever,” Insomnia says, waving a floppy hand while taking another swig, lips pursing in disgust. “I’m here to help!"
After traversing four floors - only using the stairs because you are NEVER using that elevator again, not even to vaccuum - you’ve met The Rogue Poet, someone called Muse, a whole pack of young journalists, and a Deadline looking for The Novelmancer - whatever that is - but not one of them was expecting a package. Once more, you tackle the stairs and after going down staircase after staircase you find yourself inexplicably on the sixtieth floor.
You’ve never gone up. Not at any point. This makes no sense.
You decide to maybe try the hallways instead, and it turns out this floor has more twists and turns than King Minos’ labyrinth. You spot a bright blue paper arrow with the word COFFEE scrawled unevenly on it. It hangs at an angle, barely taped to the wall, before falling off with a laminated wobble. Tentatively following the arrow’s original direction, you are faced with a landing where you can clearly see the words Level One before you. You never went down. In fact, you can see the sign for Level Sixty from where you are standing and the stairs on that side are upside down.
Before your brain can short circut, the euphoric scent of freshly ground coffee beans and brewing dark roast hits your nose. Delightful. Turning yet another corner, a flickering neon sign with a coffee cup and the words C_FF_E SH_P O_EN 2_ HO_RS angelically glows, significantly too low on the wall for a sign like that. Next to it, a red door hangs ajar. The tiny bells on the frosted glass door tinkles as you open it. Smiling, you take in the warm yellow glow and worn red vinyl that washes away the beige torture from your soul. You pull up a duct taped stool, placing the package on the dark honey counter. The wood surface has been thoroughly marked up with poetry and long arguments between someone who has terrible grammar and someone who seems to care very much about correcting it.
“Hey,” a tired voice greets you.
The Barista is tall. His half-bleached hair is tied messily into a bun, though most of it has come loose. His eyes have dark purple bags beneath them, and his irises are bright yellow x-marks - like a deceased cartoon character. He yawns as he wipes a rag across the counter, before launching it haphazardly into the sink and wiping his hands on a coffee-splattered pyjama shirt.
“What can I get for you?” he asks, tightening his red plaid button-up around his waist before walking over to take your order.
“I need coffee,” you sigh.
“Me too.” He reaches for one of his three pots and pours a tall cup of thick black liquid, pushing it in front of you. He smiles. “I’m Insomnia, the barista. Cream and sugar?”
You nod pouring as much of each as the cup will allow. Insomnia hands you a spoon and you begin to stir.
“I’m… ” You start to introduce yourself but are interrupted as the clinks of metal spoon on the ceramic cup change tone the more you mix. Curious, you pull the utensil out of the murky brownish liquid, only to find half the spoon gone.
“What is this stuff?”
“Theatre coffee,” Insomnia explains, “How are you finding things?”
“Well,” you start, frustration floating to the surface, “I’m not! I’m supposed to deliver this package, but it has no stupid name OR room number. The elevator tried to kill me, The Editor was… was…” You have to think about it.
“I agree. The Editor is very was.” Insomnia nods.
You sigh. ”I should have just become a goat herder in Iceland and sworn off writing forever.”
“Except,” Insomnia says, “you can’t.”
“Why?” you pout.
“Because you don’t know anything about goat husbandry.” He laughs, taking a sip of his own coffee.
“How do you know? Maybe I’m an Icelandic goat herding master and quit to come here and write.”
“Then it would be a waste to leave so soon.” Insomnia offers you a napkin. “Hungry?”
He gestures to a rack of pizza, warmed by heat lamps.
You cock your eyebrow. “Will it melt the plate?”
He smiles. “It’s better than it looks.”
“Okay.” You nod.
He sets a slice in front of you.
Devouring the greasy pizza, you feel much more agreeable. While you eat, Insomnia picks up an energy drink, wafting the sweet chemical scent beneath his nose, considers both his half-empty mug of coffee and the energy drink, before tipping the entire can into his mug. He takes a swig of his concoction and grimaces.
“Good?” you ask, not being able to hold back a incredulous grin.
“I’ve had worse,” Insomnia shrugs. He pulls a tiny pen from behind his ear and scrawls a map on a napkin. “If you’re still game for completing your ‘quest’, you could always ask the Narwhalogist. They’re always ordering wacky stuff. Head to the X.”
You grab the package and the map and hop off the barstool.
“Thanks!”
“Feel free to come back whenever,” Insomnia says, waving a floppy hand while taking another swig, lips pursing in disgust. “I’m here to help!"