954: Life with Raptors – Chapter Ten and Sequel

Title: Life with Raptors
Author:   AwesomeHunter77
Media: Movie
Topic: Jurassic Park
Genre:  Humor/Drama
URL: Life with Raptors
Critiqued by TacoMagic and Eliza


Yes, Eliza?

“Why does it say there’s a sequel?”

Well, because there is.  Sorta.  Luckily, it’s not very long.

“I shall hold you to that.”

Welcome back, patrons!  This is it: the last chapter!  We’re all very excited here.  Our resident bird precursors have been spending all week preparing the festivities, so look forward to the afterparty.

“Gumdrop!  These cookies need more pteranodon!  And don’t skimp on the minced anklyosaur when frosting the cake!”

She may not be able to cook, but her palate is refined far beyond her years.

Last time on Life with Raptors we got to see one of the most tragic moments of any fic we’ve ever  riffed.  A poor, innocent T. Rex cut down in her prime by a cruel and evil Gary Stu raptor.

*Sniff* “It was horrible!”

On the bright side, Seth fell off the cliff onto the rocky beach below.  At least, it would be a bright side, but we all know better than that, don’t we?

We join this chapter at the very moment the last one left off.

Chapter 10: Losses and Ends

May’s POV

*Eliza presses the button on her Generic Co single-button remote.*

What was that?

“Nothing you need to worry about.  Yet.”


“NO!” I yelled loudly, running towards the cliff edge.

I’ll give the author some credit that she resisted doing a-

I peered down. Dust and sand had been forced up, I couldn’t see a thing.

“Now you know how the audience has felt this whole time.”

I stared in disbelief. “Oh my god…” I muttered, because I already knew the alphas fate. I crumpled up into a ball and cried.

“Are we allowed to hope she throws herself after him?”

I’m choosing to hope the T.Rex actually caught a hidden ledge and climbs up to eat her.

“I’m going to hope for that too.”

I then heard the cawing of the pack as they approached.

Do you guys actually caw?


The beta looked down at me before approaching the side of the cliff and looking down, the rest of the raptors did the same.

“What’s she looking at?”

I don’t know.  It’s all dusty and voidy down there.  Can’t see a thing.

“Stupid monkey, she should get a TV or a Gameboy or something instead of watching dirt float around.”

Then, they all formed a chorus of screeches and chirps, which rang through the night sky and defeated the noise of rain and thunder. They were mourning.

All that T.Rex meat just going to waste like that.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.”

Then I realized that they might attack me without the alpha to protect me, but I hardly cared anymore.

It’s amazing how May is suddenly channeling the audience.  Can’t see a thing and apathetic to her existence.  What next, is she going to be horribly bored?

I was suddenly surprised.

“And from behind!”

I don’t think that it wor-

*Eliza smiles, showing off her teeth* “And. From. Behind!”

Of course.

 The raptors turned and nuzzled me, and curled up around me, resting their heads on eachother and me.

Dude, guys, get a room.

“Or at least  a tree-hole.”

The beta was situated so I was looking straight at him. His eyes showed sorrow where his face could not.


“I’m trying!  I can’t get past the overwhelming joy!”

And so, we curled up, right in that spot, and fell asleep.

In the middle of a thunderstorm. On the edge of the unstable cliff.

I was not sure if raptors had dreams, but if they did, their dreams must not have been pleasant.

“That dream where you’re chasing a monkey, but no matter how hard you try you only seem to run in place.  I hate that dream!”

We woke the next morning. I returned to my tree with the pack following. I grabbed my supplies. “I have to find a way off this island.” I muttered as I picked up my pack and slung it over my shoulder.

About. Fucking. TIME!

I walked towards the Visitor Center, positioned in the center of the island, I knew where one of the shores was, I just had to go opposite that way until I hit the building.

“So she knew where she was the whole time.”

Excuse me, I need to spend a few moments in the closet of extreme profanity.

*Several NC-17 ratings later*

I hope I don’t have to explain to ANYONE why May is the stupidest person in the universe.

It was an hour’s walk to find it, but it payed off.

“You’ll just have to trust her on that one.”

So wait, she was several hours away from the raptor nest, but only an hour from the visitor’s center.  Yet, she spent the last several [ERROR: chronology not found] living in a tree hole?

“I think I’m going to need a turn in the closet.”

I ran through the large doors and looked around, the lights flickered, their life support dying.

Eliza!  120cc’s adrenaline!  Hang in there, power-grid!  You can make it!

The Tyrannosaurus and sauropod skeltons were destroyed, and three fresher skeletons lay around.

See!  This is why you lock the doors!

“The entire cast of Jurassic Park would have faired a lot better if Hammond had believed in interior door locks.”

Or keycard access.  Gods forbid that you secure the command center of your top secret dinosaur preserve, right?

 This was our other pack of raptors, looks like the Tyrannosaur had bitten into them, their bones were crushed.

*Rubs forehead*  First off, there were only two raptors in that scene.  Second, even if there were three, that still doesn’t constitute a full pack.

I looked around for a radio or something.

“Personally, I’d try the command center.  Since it had all the radios and stuff.”

And the somethings.

“Yes, it had lots of those too.”

I even looked in the freezer in the kitchen. But all that was there was a frozen raptor.


“Why is there a frozen raptor in the freezer?  Was the T. Rex saving one for later?”

Gumdrop would never make that mistake.  He knows that freezing raptor meat spoils the flavor.

I continued walking on, letting the raptor pack examine what I left. They seemed taken with the scaley ice sculpture.

So, wait, was that a raptor that had been frozen, or was it an actual ice sculpture.  CAN YOU FLIPPING DESCRIBE SOMETHING SO THAT I KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?

Suddenly, there it was, a radio.

“And from behind.”


I ran to it and grabbed it, twisting the knobs and trying to get a signal.

That’s what she-

*Darkwraiths tackle Taco and drag  him from the room*

“He’ll be right back.”

 “Hello, hello? Is anyone there?” I would say with each frequency.

“I’ll give the author this one.  If you don’t know how to work a VHF radio transmitter, twiddling the knobs and saying hello is pretty much what you’d do.”

And finally, a response. “W-What? Who is this, why are you on our channel while were looking for a girl here?” Some man said.

*Faceclaw*  “Oh it just so happens.  Why would any monkey in their right mind send a rescue party back for somebody who, by all rights, would be dead within twenty-four hours of going missing?

“Sir, my name is May, I’m st-” I was cut off.

“May, are you the girl we’re looking for on this lizard infested island?”

“Ahh yes, PCC brand Rescue Party!  When you absolutely, positively have to be rescued at this very moment!”

“Yes, that’s me!” I yelled.

“Ok! Ok! Where are you now?”

“I’m in the visitor center at the center of the island.”

Funny thing is, if this rescue party had more than a brain-cell to share among them, they’d already have people at the Visitor center.  The thing is located centrally and can be fortified.  You’re not going to find a better place to set up shop for a doomed-to-fail rescue mission.

“How was the reprogramming?”

*Twitch*  Relaxing.

“Alright. Give us two hours and we’ll be there.

“Turns out that we haven’t actually left the mainland yet.  We sorta got distracted by the one dollar Mai Tais.”

 Can you live that long? What am I saying, you’ve lived for two months here, I think two hours will be easy.” And then there was static.

Whoa whoa whoa whoa.  She spent two months in that fucking tree-hole living off of partially rotted fish and Compsognathus when there was a POWERED command center only an hour’s walk away!?  WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?

“Do you need some more time in the closet of profanity?”

Getting close to that point, yes.  Somehow, May has managed to be even stupider than Rae.  That’s a fucking accomplishment, author.

“Two months? I’ve been here for two months?” I said to myself.

“Yeah, it was stupid when we heard it too, dear.  Try not to strain yourself attempting to think about it.”

Someone’s POV

*Facepalm* Don’t kid yourself, author.  Even dead squirrels know that Seth is still alive and that this is his point of view.  If you think you’re fooling anyone, you’re as dumb as your self-insert.

“It doesn’t help that she bolded it.”

Yeah, so sneaky, author.

All was black, I felt pain. I slowly opened my eyes to reveal a beach and the ocean.

“I cannot even get up the energy to boo this because it was so predictable.”

He’s probably on the mainland or something, too.  While that would juxtapose his position with May’s, she’s about to be rescued, so it’s not really well timed.

I managed to push myself up and looked around.

Beautiful void as far as the eye can see!

“Just like home!”

A large creature lay near me, making me jump back in fear. But it did not move.

*Sniff* “Why T. REX, Why!?”

She died as she lived: trying to rid the world of horrible characters.

I approached, and poked the thing, it did not move, and it was cold. It must’ve been dead.

It’s not dead, it’s pining for the Fjords.

“Well, they’re at the ocean, so I’m sure there are a few around.”

Thanks for killing the joke.

“I do what I can.”

Slowly I turned and walked away, I felt that I needed to go somewhere, meet someone, but for both, I knew not what they were.

I think the vague is starting to get to the poor guy.

Then, I looked back once more, the dead thing, much rock and ground. It hit me in a flash.

So memory.  Much remembrance.

“Very flashback.”

The green creature, the storm, the ground gave way, and my human!

Sentence fragments, disjointed prose, contrived plot, and extreme boredom!

I was Seth, I was a leader of a pack of five.

“Calling your a leader is a bit of a stretch.  More like you were in charge by default.”

My beta and one of my friends was Max, and my other friend was named Austin, with the two females, Austin and Lily. And I survived a long fall.

Care to regurgitate anything else that the audience already knows?

“I think the author pretty much exhausted all of the canon that she’s built up with that exposition.”

I screeched and ran as fast as I could, made harder because I had a cut on my leg.

A cut that I’m sure we’ll see again.

“Given the speed at which everything heals in this universe, I’d say it’s holding to canon if the cut is forgotten.”

Fair enough.

I knew my human would leave if she thought I was dead, and I knew where she would go to contact help.

Which she didn’t do at her first opportunity or after your spat because…


Ahh yes, Reasons™.  Forgot about those.

I just had to be quick.

Yes!  Quickly run in a random direction!

May’s POV

*Checks her watch*  “Should be over anchorage by now.”

Where the heck did you get that watch?

“Herr’s room.  It’s nice, isn’t it?”

I think we need to have a discussion about how personal property works.

The two hours passed by quickly, and soon, I heard footsteps and calls.

Ahh, spring.  The blooming flowers, the greenery, the mating calls of wild rescue parties.

I was lucky, the pack had left to hunt or do otherwise.

Just so happens.

“Yup, not contrived at all.”

I ran out and a group of five men and two women stood there, sporting cuts and bandages across their bodies.

Guess they’re not all that good at the whole ‘extraction from an island with hostile wildlife’ thing.

“Well, it did take May picking up a radio at the visitor center for them to find her.”

Hmm, true enough.

“It’s obvious that God has smiled on you, child.” The African American man in the group said.

“If only he had blessed her with some brains.”

“How long have you been looking for me?” I asked.

“Five days, two men lost to this damned place.” A large, muscular man said. I nodded sadly.

Yeah, they really, REALLY suck at their job.

“Well, we won’t be rescuing no one just standing here, let’s get a move on.” The African American woman said.

I followed behind the group.

“So tell us. How’d you survive in this place?” A scrawny man asked.

“We’ve been wondering the same thing.”

Yeah, by all accounts it doesn’t make any sense.

“To tell you the truth, I had some help.” I said.

Mostly from the author.

“What? There’s another survivor?”

“No, no. I had help from…a raptor.” I said.

“A raptor? You tame it or somethin’?”

A fair question, though I would have asked it with a lot more profanity and disbelief.

“No, I took care of him and he took a liking to me, when the dinosaurs escaped, he protected me, and his pack never seemed to mind.”

“‘Took care of him’? What, exactly, did she do for him?”

Um… ruined a hunt and slept a few times.

“It is as if May was reading a different fic than we were.”

If that’s true, I envy her.

“Wow, you is luc-AAAAAHHHHHH!” The soldier was cut off when we were near the beach and boat that waited there, something had tackled the man.

It’s getting so you can’t rescue a person without losing three times as many people.

It was the alpha!

Oh, hey, he isn’t on the mainland!  I was wrong!

“You sound so excited.”

Being wrong happens so infrequently with these fics, it’s a bit of a special occasion when it happens!

“So, at this point the others open fire on Seth and kill him, right?”


“NO! Get off of him!” I yelled, pushing the alpha off. I then heard a gun being loaded and I quickly stood in front of the alpha.

“Quick!  Shoot her too!”

Wait a second… THE GUNS AREN’T LOADED!?  If you will all excuse me, I need another trip to the Closet of Profanity.

*Several Spike Lee movies worth of swearing later*

You idiots are on an island overflowing with dangerous animals who have already killed a bunch of staff, not to mention two of your own party… and your guns aren’t fucking loaded.  This fic has entered the realm of idiotplex plot.

“What are you doing, girl? That thing’ll kill you!”

“No, he won’t, this is the raptor I was talking about.” I said, turning to face him.

Shoot her.

It was almost a miracle, he was alive, actually alive. I hugged him and kissed the side of his muzzle just because he was a miracle from Heaven, it seemed.

“Shoot her!”

He glared at the soldiers, who had their guns ready.   “I have to go now, I’m not sure if you’ll see me again, or if you can understand me, but thank you for saving me and keeping me alive.” I said.


For a second, I thought the alpha didn’t understand, but he suddenly became panicked and shook his head frantically, he grabbed at my shirt and gently pulled at me.

*Points at Eliza’s mouth full of teeth*  As gently as you can with that, anyway.

“So, with only minor blood shed.”

“No.” I said, pushing him off. “I can’t stay here, I can’t live like this forever.”

So why did you do it for two months, then?  The visitors’ center was a fucking hour away!

He stared at me in anguish, but then bobbed his head as if to say yes.

Which could also be a sign that he’s about to attack.

“Ahh the nuances of body language.”

I hugged him one last time, and he let out a small noise that I think I actually understood.

Too bad she isn’t going to share that understanding with the audience.

For a second, I was silent. Then, “I love you too.” I muttered, kissing his head before getting up and following the soldiers.

“Trust us, it’s better that this relationship end here.”

Now is the perfect time to turn and shoot him, guys.  She’s not in the way anymore.

We got onto the boat and I looked back at the island. The whole pack ran out onto the beach, screeching goodbyes as the boat left. Soon, the island was nothing, and I would be home soon.

She ain’t just whistling Dixie about that.  The island will be firebomed some time within the next few weeks, so ‘nothing’ is a pretty apt word for what will be left.

Seth’s POV

*Eliza checks her watch again*  “Any minute now.”

Okay, now I’m starting to worry.

I watched as my human left, but I knew now that she loved me, and I would always love her.

“Do we have any of that melodramamine left? I’m starting to feel queasy.”

We render it in aerosol now.  Let me just flip the switch and it’ll dump into the vents.

*Taco flips a switch, which is followed by angry Japanese echoing out of the vents.*

Probably should have let the Ninja know I was turning that on.

I ran out onto the beach and watched, my pack ran in and screeched their goodbyes before turning to me. “You are a miracle worker, my friend.” Austin said with a smile.

Um, in what way?  His survival had nothing to do with any agency on his part but rather was entirely up to blind luck and/or contrivance of plot.

“And don’t forget it.” I said.

We turned and watched as the large fish thing take my human away.

JUST CALL IT A FUCKING BOAT!  There is absolutely no need for the clunky obfuscation in the narrative!

“Do you think we’ll see her again?” Lily asked.

I was silent for a bit. “I know we’ll see her again.” I said.

“Because predictable plot.”

We slowly turned and made our way back into the island.

I looked back. “It was best for her.” I muttered before I continued on.

And here Seth finally redeems his earlier sudden and uncharacteristic jackassery.  The last line he has in the fic is him admitting that letting her go is best for her, and that is more important to him than keeping her on the island.  Seth, you are 100 billion times better than Sorin for that line alone.

May’s POV

*A massive missile crashes through the ceiling and embeds itself in the floor*

“Right on time!”

Why didn’t it go of-

*A hatch on the missile pops open.  A robotic hand holding a pie emerges out of the opening and throws the pie square into Taco’s face*

Pumpkin pecan!?  You fiend!

Wait, what about the glitter?

*Eliza tosses a small handful of glitter onto Taco*

Thank you.

When I got home, my mom and dad held me tight to them, tears in their eyes.

Much feelings.  So emotions.

My mom cooked a lot of food, she said I got to skinny on that island.

A great way to end a famine is with a metric butt-ton of food.  Totally won’t have any repercussions.

The warmth of the house, the delicious food, my parents love. It was good to feel it again.

Afterwards, my mom forced me up to bed, but I didn’t fall asleep quite so fast.

“I can’t believe that I’m saying this, but hearing about her robotic homecoming is actually worse than hearing about her inept exploits on the island.”

I pulled my fossilized raptor claw out and gazed at it, it reminded me of the alpha, for this claw carried the genetic code that had made him possible, this claw was a part of him.

No, it fucking isn’t!  Did the whole “mosquitoes in fossilized amber” portion of the movie just fly completely over your head?

And it was mine, so he was always with me.

“Urf.  I don’t think the one dose is going to cut it.”

No problem, just another flip of the- *Buttered*

The one dose will have to be enough.

And that was my life. My life with Raptors.

If you want to know how to totally fail at writing, this is how you do it.  You make the title the last line of your story.  You have done it, author.  You have brought this fic in a full circle, creating a smooth, impenetrable, unending wall of absolute failure.  Good on ya.

(Aaaaaaaand scene. That’s all folks. My life with Raptors is over.

And let me tell you, the celebration will be epic!

Kind of sudden, but I hope to move on.

“Ended like it started, with no idea of where it was going.”

And who knows…maybe I’ll make a sequel, eh?  I’ll see what you all think.


Anyway, for now, tired arms and brain, got other stuff to work on. Thank you for sticking with me. And for now, goodbye.)

And with that, Life with Raptors part 1 comes to a close.  Now, let’s start in on the sequel.

“I hate you, Taco.”

Death with Raptors

“Oh for love of Raptor Thor, there is another one!”

Hello everyone, AwesomeHunter9877 returning from the grave. Give me your brains!

Okay, me being dumb now over.

“Wait, is this the fic?”

Just keep reading.

Do not hate me when you see the new chapter for the story and think that I’ve come back full throttle, only to find this notice. Because I’m not back. Yet.

“This is actually a fic, right?”

Weeeeeelllll… no, it isn’t.  This “fic” is actually a one-page author’s note where she muses on what a terrible author she is.  No, really, that’s what it is.  Don’t worry, I’ve already reported it for violating the fic posting guidelines.

Do you all realize a problem with this story, as well as its prequel?

We might have noticed a few things a bit off about your story, yes.

“Just one or two little rough spots that need polishing.”

Bad grammar, spelling, and sentence run-on? Yep.

Not to mention sentence fragments, incomplete thoughts, and missing words.

“May as well add improper word use, poor capitalization, and dangling modifiers to the mix as well.”

Shaky plot-line? Check!

Understatement of the century.  Calling your plot shaky is like calling Birdemic ‘a bit of a disappointing watch.’

Finding ourselves surrounded by walls, with nowhere left to go in our story? How’d you know?!

Might have been the lack of direction, meandering plot, lack of tension, or whacked-out pacing that gave it away.

“The author’s notes also weren’t keeping the secret that you had no idea what you were doing.”

After I put the alpha on the mainland, I didn’t know what I could do.

Son of a-  That must have been a plot point in the sequel before she replaced it with this note.

“So you were right, just premature.”


There was nothing for me to do that wouldn’t involve a badly planned sudden, uncharacteristic change of heart from a character.

“You mean like the one he had in the middle of the first fic, and when he did it again at the end?”

Well, she doesn’t want to do the same trick thrice, I guess.

I hate those. They’re not satisfying to me.

Then you probably shouldn’t have done it in the first fic.  Twice.

So what does that mean for this story? Am I scrapping it? Leaving it behind? A distant memory that will haunt me forever?

Please say yes!

“Please, oh please say that you’re abandoning this terrible idea for all time!”

That would be the easy way out, between my recent fear of the internet

And, given the amount of time between you posting this and now, this is actually way out you chose to take.  So I guess, in the end, you’re all about about that easy path.  Your fist fic kinda clued us in that you weren’t really all about the effort thing.  At least in your writing, anyway.

“The truth hurts, doesn’t it, sweetie?”

 (Is there anywhere you can go without killer malware that just appears out of the blue?)

The park?

“I find that I don’t deal with much malware in the armory.”

my personal life being crappy with schedules and relatives (Gotta love them, not like them.), and me not wanting anyone I know personally to catch onto my Fiction making, there’s little time for me to make chapters for stories. And I’m a gamer so I have to squeeze that in.

Blah, blah, blah, excuses about how busy you are.  We see these all the time.  Tell me this, who the fuck isn’t busy?  It’s just an excuse not to do something that takes effort and time management. If you are really actually too busy to write, THEN DON’T APOLOGIZE ABOUT IT!  Being busy happens, life happens, so if you have to stop writing, just cut it out of your life or put it on hold for a while and move on without the excuses.  Making excuses about how hectic your life is looks like a whiny excuse for being too lazy to actually do something that you only think you are passionate about.  And most of the time, that’s the real truth anyway.  It has nothing to do with being busy and everything to do with feeling like you should write, but not really being driven to do it.

And if you don’t actually want to write, be honest with yourself.  No need to waste everyone’s time writing just because you think you should.  Readers are smart, we can tell when you don’t give a shit about what you’re writing.

But I don’t want to leave you all disappointed.

“Dude, it’s like you can see into the future.”

Why the fuck do I keep being right about this shit!?

Author, don’t fucking write for us!  You aren’t good enough to make pleasing us a reachable goal.  Either write for yourself, or don’t write at all.

Between the two Raptor stories, there have been over 30,000 views of the story!  27,000 on the first story alone!

Okay… and?  You do know the number of views is pretty meaningless.  You don’t base your writing on the number of views you get.

I have to hope that at least half of those awesome people read the whole thing through!

I’d say expecting more than 5% to read past the first sentence is being generous when dealing with fanfiction.

“Managing expectations is a large part of life satisfaction.”

I saw those statistics and it makes me wonder where my fiction making career is heading.

“Nowhere, and very slowly at that.”

Ouch, more of that truth stuff.

When I was younger, I was full of ideas, but they came out poorly when I typed them.

“Things haven’t really changed, sweetie.”

Wow, you’re harsh when you’ve been maliciously bored.

Now I’m better with grammar, but my ideas are all gone, because I’ve realized several problems.

Hopefully one of those realizations it that an idea by itself is not enough to make a story.

I want to be renowned, but all my ideas seem to be stuck with stuff that was never famous, or got a lot of hype but never reached what it was supposed to. *coughSporecough*

Which is why you are doomed to be a failure as an author.  You are preoccupied with how much fame you have and not with the writing.  Comparing your writing to a game that failed to live up to the hype that surrounded it isn’t doing you any favors, either.

I’m looking at the sister website, Fictionpress, and thinking about what I can do there, but Fanfiction keeps pulling me back.

For those unaware, Fictionpress is basically the Fanfiction.net of original works that is run by the same people.  I checked on her Fictionpress account, she hasn’t published anything.  Read into that what you will.

I got into Pokemon a few years back, for instance, and wouldn’t mind doing a fanfiction of that. But when I first named the main female role of THIS story, I didn’t watch the TV show that was out around that time. I didn’t like anime, see? Still not a big fan. Japanese culture and animation has always just made my brain spin.

What the fuck does that have to do with anything?

“I guess her inability to focus is still a problem as of writing this authors’ note.”

Anyway, that’s off topic.

“Dear heart, this whole thing is off topic.  You’re supposed to be writing a story.”

I watched an episode of the anime, and that’s why there was a disclaimer to our main character’s name in the first chapter of the Life with Raptors story.

Which was stupid and unnecessary.  Glad no lessons have been learned.

Yada yada yada, et cetera et cetera.

“You’re making it hard to hope that you might improve your writing.”

I knew there was going to be at least ONE person who would’ve asked about that resemblance if I didn’t put that there. THERE’S ALWAYS ONE!

Yes, and that person does not, and never will, matter.  Way to be pulled down by potentially extant people with irrelevant viewpoints about your characters’ names.

For those of you who think I’m just rambling on like an idiot and have no idea what I’m talking about, welcome to the club, you lot probably aren’t the first!

“Are there shirts?  There should be shirts.”

Yeah, if you’re gonna ask us to join your club, you need to show us the cool shirts we’ll get.

Anyway, the awkward is over for now.

No it’s not, looking down you’re gonna keep rambling for four more paragraphs.

Look forward to the story being revised.

“We don’t take kindly to threats, missy.”

 I can’t give an exact date, I’m still laying out the framework for it, seeing where it will go.

*Gasp*  Is she actually doing prep work!?  Outlines, character maps, backstories, history, research…

She’s just thinking about what events she wants to happen in the plot, isn’t she?

“Most likely.”

Well, I can hope that isn’t the case, at least.

The first chapter isn’t even being produced yet, I’m sorry to say.

“We’re not.  Feel absolutely free to delay it indefinitely.”

I do know one thing, you can probably expect this story being short like the first one was.

That was literally the best thing about Life with Raptors, the comparative brevity to Raptor and I.  Same amount of content, one quarter of the words.

I might rush it a bit like the first (Three days turns into two months?! WHERE WAS MY HEAD AT?!)

You know what, at least she realized that there was a timesquiggle there.  So, hey, there is progress being made.

or I might just bring in an unexpected twist…which will make you all try to expect something now. D’oh!

I’ll let Herr handle the Robot Chicken reference.

Anyway, I’ve not completely abandoned this story, but it has a lot of refining to have done on it.

“For instance, the original idea is deeply flawed and needs to be abandoned for something more tenable.”


And as we said before: This is irrelevant information and we don’t fucking care.

If my life comes to a point where I just can’t do it anymore, I’ll write a farewell chapter on my most famous stories before I disappear forever.

For those wondering, the latest chapter post was about 6 weeks ago, and was not a farewell.  Take that as you will.

Hopefully that’s a while away.

“We’re rooting for your improvement, but not holding out much hope for your longevity in the fic world.  Prove us wrong, kiddo.”

I also can’t stress enough that I have little to no muse nowadays. I start a fiction then it just sits dead in my brain. I need to sleep more, I think.

Or write/read more.  That’s the strange thing about writing.  The more you do it, the easier it is to think about writing and to come up with more ideas.  The more you read, the more exposure you get to different ideas and plot arcs, which can spark your own imagination.  If you’re having trouble coming up with ideas, drop everything and start reading something.  Preferably something that you wouldn’t normally read.  Given that you didn’t know Jurassic park was a book before it was a movie, you likely need to be reading much more than you are.

“Simple test to determine if you read enough to be a writer.  How many books are in arms-reach right now?  If your answer is less than two, you aren’t reading enough.  Unless you’re on a bus reading this, in which case you should have at least one.  If you’ve got a kindle loaded with books, you only get to count it if you’ve read something on it in the last twelve hours.”

And what have you been reading?

“Uhhh… Jane Austin.”

Huh, I would have pegged you reading something along the lines of Sun Tzu.

“You’re thinking of Swenia.”

What’s she reading?

Wuthering Heights.  You?”

Moby Dick.  Still.  Gods that book is boring, but I will finish it!

Anyway, this long-winded Author’s note is done now.

Says the author before another paragraph of rambling.

Don’t rage over mistaking this for a new chapter!

“Can I be miffed that this isn’t a chapter and is against the fic posting guidelines?”

Sure, if the miffedness can push past the overwhelming apathy, anyway.

I’m doing the best my restricted life and brain function can provide.

We heard the excuse the first time.  No need to fish for more pity, we’re just as unreceptive now as we were before.

Just give me some more time and I might be able to pull some piece of crap from my head!

“Rule of thumb for authors everywhere: if this is the way you think about writing, then don’t.”

Until then!


“What a way to end the series, ‘Bye everyone, I’ll see you all again when I’m ready to pelt you with my mind-excrement!'”

At this point I would like to take a quick moment to mention her other fic, Hunted, which she is currently actively writing.  First off, it’s bad.  It still uses the same Stu/Sue protagonists, Seth and May, and May is still an unrepentant author-insert.  Their relationship is flat, cliché, and uninteresting in every way possible with all the tension being devolved via bickering.  The setting is underdeveloped, the plot is all over the map, there’s lots of telling and almost no showing, the narrative gets chatty instead of maintaining neutral voice, the pacing is awful, and the story is definitely being made up as she goes.


It shows improvement. Especially in the more recent chapters.  Her prose is more developed, she actually describes characters, there is some modicum of setting, and the mechanics are way better.  She’s started wandering into the realm of purple-prose, to be sure, but that’s just overcompensation for how stark and lifeless her prose has been leading up to that point.

I won’t sugar coat it, the fic is still awful and well withing the spectrum of what we riff in the Library, but it’s quite a bit better than Life with Raptors.  Maybe somebody will want to riff it, but it isn’t going to be me; I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

And with that, our riffing of Life with Raptors comes to a close.  So, what did you think, Eliza?

“The fic was horrible and I hate you for including me.”

Until next time, patrons!  Meanwhile, I’ll see you at the afterparty!


31 Comments on “954: Life with Raptors – Chapter Ten and Sequel”

  1. GhostCat says:

    She may not be able to cook, but her pallet is refined far beyond her years.

    She has a refined portable platform used to store and transport goods? Fancy.

  2. GhostCat says:

    It was an hour’s walk to find it, but it payed off.

    She was only an hour away from the Visitors’ Center but still spent all that time in the Stank Hole?

    :joins line for Closet of Extreme Profanity:

  3. GhostCat says:

    “May, are you the girl we’re looking for on this lizard infested island?”

    How do they not know the name of the girl they’re there to find?

    • TacoMagic says:

      “Your mission is to go to Isla Nublar and find somebody.”

      Who, sir?

      “That information is classified. Your job is to find them and bring them back, that’s all I can tell you.”

  4. GhostCat says:

    Someone’s POV


  5. GhostCat says:

    My beta and one of my friends was Max, and my other friend was named Austin, with the two females, Austin and Lily. And I survived a long fall.

    Two of the raptors have the same name?


    It’s a group of five! How can you not come up with five original names?

  6. GhostCat says:

    *Checks her watch* “Should be over anchorage by now.”

    Where the heck did you get that watch?

    “Herr’s room. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

    I think we need to have a discussion about how personal property works.

    That’s just disgraceful. You should respect other people’s boundaries.

    :flips through Contacts’ spare wallet:

    Anyone want a coupon for buy one, get one free at the Sunglass Pagoda?

  7. GhostCat says:

    I was lucky, the pack had left to hunt or do otherwise.

    How exactly does someone otherwise? Do you need a spotter?

  8. GhostCat says:

    my Fiction making

    That’s not even … Wha?

    • TacoMagic says:

      When my thinkmeat is ideafied, I fiction make to unword it.

      • GhostCat says:

        And she’s so adamant that no one in her real life know about her “fiction making” activities. She’s on the Internet using an anonymous username; no one will know unless she specifically tells them.

      • fledglinghuman says:

        I’m trying to figure out why she wants nobody to know. Aside from being horrendous at all of the building blocks of creative writing, she’s not exactly writing anything worth starting a witch hunt over.

  9. Reading test time!

    Romeo and Juliet (Folger Library edition, based primarily on 2nd folio, text for class)

    Hellfire (Ed Macy, memoir of British Apache pilot in Afghanistan.)

    Three Books of Known Space (Larry Niven, collecting World of Ptavvs, A Gift From Earth, and a collection of short Stories.)

    On Kindle, two titles have been read in the past 12 hours.

    Forge of God (Greg Bear, story of apocalypse by way of solar system dismantling entity. Mixed feelings.)

    Fleet of Worlds (Niven, again.)

    Honestly, I’m feeling a little light on books. I’ll have to try again when I’m home, rather than killing time between classes.

    • TacoMagic says:

      That beats me, but not my wife. I think I’ve only got 5 or 6 books in reach while at my desk, and only two of those are fiction.

      FPM, on the other hand, keeps several stacks of books 10-15 deep sprinkled around the house in places she is likely to sit, as well as having her kindle on her person pretty much all the time. So if you count any book my wife can get to within 10 seconds, it’s between 45 and 60. Not counting the bookshelves upstairs. Or the ones in the basement. Or the ones in the bedroom. Or the boxes of books that don’t fit on the shelves. Or the tub of books hidden under the couch. Or the tub of books hidden under the bed. And the one under the guest bed…

      Even more mind bogglingly, she’s usually in the middle of reading between 3 and 6 books at any given time. I can barely keep up with reading 1 book at a time.

      She’s also a writer, hopefully a published one soon, so a plethora of books is to be expected. Really, anyone who writes should be drowning in books, both those for pleasure reading and those for research.

      • Again, I’m going to try when I’m at my desk at home. That ought to be amusing.

        And I’m a multiple novel reader myself. But, you know, ADHD.

        Do you think I should add in the audiobooks I listen to in the car, following the Kindle rules? Because if so: The Martian (Andy Weir, story of a Martian astronaut who gets stranded on Mars. READ THIS BOOK. It is incredibly good, and has a fantastic audiobook. Hard sci-fi with strong characters. I love it so.)

        • TacoMagic says:

          You’re actually the second person in 48 hours to recommend both that book and the audiobook of it to me. I’ll have to check it out.

          And sure, I’d count auidobooks. It’s a way of reading a book when you can’t actually read it.

    • GhostCat says:

      Let’s see;

      IRS Publication 17
      IRS Publication 4012
      Japanese Grammar Quick Reference Guide
      Kindle (currently reading A Storm of Swords)

      That’s all I can see from my desk, it would be a different story if I was at home.

    • TacoMagic says:

      I expect big things from everyone when you all get home and do the test in your reading spot/desk/misjay.

    • I have two full bookshelves, not counting the ones from the public library or scattered around the room.

    • Herr Wozzeck says:

      I have a wall unit full of scores. As it’ in a different room from my desk, though…

      But I can cheat a bit. I’ve got Dune sitting on my dresser, I have History of Opera on my nightstand, and right now I have a study score for Wozzeck and the book Opera As Drama sitting in my backpack at present, which I keep close to my bed on most occasions, so I’m counting that. All that, in reach of my desk.

  10. fledglinghuman says:

    Oh my god, that sequel is making me want to punch things.

    Also: I knew there was going to be at least ONE person who would’ve asked about that resemblance if I didn’t put that there. THERE’S ALWAYS ONE!

    Sweetheart, if you think THAT’S scary enough to preemptively put to rest, you know nothing of the horrors of reviewing. In fact, you never will until you have somebody ask you why you chose to use a “politically charged” word like oppressive to describe darkness… in a story set in a forest and having absolutely nothing to do with politics of any sort.

    But, really, they’re both kinda the same thing. Sometimes you get gushy reviewers; sometimes you get lovely, constructive, helpful reviewers. Occasionally you get blindly idiotic ones that you need to laugh at and then ignore.

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