Atlas' Written Works

[Anonymous]

In this thread, I will offer my writing. All I ask for in return is if my work brings you pleasure, feel free to drop an offering in the jar below.

Bitcoin Address: 18bDDEuX7x34E6B2Q1UmWzKKyYafBfKb8J

Let our pleasure be mutual. Thank you.


Short Stories:

Golden Fall

Preface: http://bitcointalk.org/index.php?topic=2934.msg42026#msg42026

A New World: http://bitcointalk.org/index.php?topic=2934.msg42280#msg42280

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[Babylon]

Do you appreciate a short story? Would you like to see an amateur writer gradually improve? Well, throw a fraction of a BTC my way and watch it grow through these stories. I swear on my integrity as a writer that I will put the same amount of passion into each individual work. Every piece will be fresh in its inception, hence no work will be made in advance.

Place your order in a post below and I will get right to your short story. Every story will be made publicly viewable and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. I can guarantee* the story will be completed within the week. The time will decrease as I create more work.
 
The current rate for a standard <=1000-word short story is .25 BTC.

Special requests can be made for an additional charge. You can message me for details.

My address is 18bDDEuX7x34E6B2Q1UmWzKKyYafBfKb8J .

Thank you.

*Any story not completed within a week will be refunded.

Are you commissioning stories with specific themes?  If so what themes are you best suited to write?

Although I am in favor of creative commons licenses for a lot of things, I know that if I am going to pay for work I'd kind of like to benefit more from it than someone who didn't pay for it, are you open to a more restrictive license on your work if you are paid at a higher rate?

Just to be clear, I am not currently in the market to commision any stories, although that may change, just pointing out some questions that seemed sensible to me.

[hippich]

Atlas, same question =) have few sites I need original content for. pavel@yepcorp.com

[chris200x9]

Don't care too much about getting a story, just want to encourage you to keep up with writing. I always liked writing but I never write, maybe I can live vicariously through you

edit: "Don't care too much about getting a story" does not mean free bitcoins, I still expect one lol.

[FreeMoney]

Just an idea, write a fictional story cyberpunk style, about near future when a few nations support a new cryptocurrency not unlike bitcoin and some evil central banks hire a bunch of assassins and saboteurs to liquidate some prominent crypto miners, in response resistance blow up or hack a bunch of supercomputers evil central banks are using in futile attempt to match cpu power of half a planet home heating systems. Plot thickens... :-)

Asimov will be green with envy..

It would be cool to write a story where a revolutionary new decentralized currency changes everything, and then reveal all technical details at the end and the fact that we are using an implementation of it already

[satamusic]

do you have a few stories online for us to read?

[Anonymous]

The themes will either center around romantic or sci-fi themes. There are no guarantees. I will not reveal any previous work for the sake of the experiment. ; )

[Anonymous]

I am working on the first story as we speak. I am truly an amateur. Please bear with my growing pains or aka severe writer's block. It will be here soon enough.

[Anonymous]

Golden Fall

Preface

The figure sat and sulked in his agony. His anguish only accented by the heavy creasing above his brow and the slouching demeanor he held in his desk chair; mumbling every few moments, venting his regret, just as a machine recedes to groans and creaks due to its long-term use -- only pointing towards eventual failure. The pain was excruciating. He was reaching his threshold--and a being as strong as he had quite a tolerance--but things have gone too far.

In a weave of ticks and convulsions, he swung himself among the knick-knacks and documents that lined his dark mahogany desk, strewing them in a helter-skelter of broken glass and papers across his office floor; throwing his large leather ottoman in an olympiadic fashion into the pitch darkness of his office corridor. He curled up in a fetal position and sulked in sullen agony.

This figure's name is Emmerich Faultner. From the beginning of the early Y2K's, Faultner has been heavily invested in the rising crypto-commodity market. Due to his early adoption, Faultner has accumulated an exceptional wealth. However, tonight this has changed. Every crypto-based commodity has been made worthless by a few keystrokes of a rogue wolf, that has been sweeping the web with his new-found power in consumer-level quantum-computing technology. Mr. Faultner is only one of the many victims that had full confidence in this new agorist phenomenon -- these digital commodities.

Make no mistake, it has preserved him over the second great economic bust, with the collapse of nearly every fiat government-back currency in the world. While the world starved, Faultner thrived because his value was safe within his sound money. Unfortunately, his refusal -- along with the rest of the digital community -- to notice the eventual crack of the cryptography that built the spine of their assets, only led to its eventual demise.

Nevertheless, Mr. Faultner has never been an accepting individual. This score will be settled.

To be continued...

[Anonymous]

A New World

It was a dawn of a new day. Mr. Faultner dragged himself from the floor of his office waking sullenly, forgetting only for a moment what brought him to his knees the night before. Nevertheless, it took only one gaze at the mess before him to realize what brought him here in the first place.

His eyes squinted and brow creased only adding to his frazzled look partnered with is wrinkled shirt, loosened tie and weary red tangled hair; with a bang hovering elegantly above his left brow. He stood in this position for several moments embracing his new found conviction: He will find the individual responsible for this destruction; the destruction of his and the many others wealth.

The night before was unlike any other night the world had ever faced. These crypto-commodities were not only used by the individuals but embraced by many businesses around the globe. Much of these -- much like Mr. Faultner -- failed, due to their lack of diversity in assets. Much had changed after the last time Mr. Faultner had left his apartment and much discord was to be faced in the streets. Looters were about, raping whatever valuable may lay before them. Cars lined the streets due to no energy to be bought by the penniless citizens, for most wealth had been displaced.

Mr. Faultner looked out the large window that sat behind his desk. Cars laid burnt in the streets and protests lined avenues further ahead. People had to take out their suffering on whatever organizations remaining -- the government, the media and other powerful individuals across the country. In a matter of hours, the world was literally in ruins.

Mr. Faultner fell into his large leather chair facing the window,

"My god, can it really be?", he murmured in disbelief.

"A world too confident is only sure too fall it seems and--innovation not redacted in its use only destroys? My, oh my, why must this be?"

His eyes struck open, " I must call Kegan. I can only hope this meltdown hasn't crippled him as it has to I. Maybe he had more sense."

He swiveled swiftly around in his chair to his disheveled desk. He moved his hands furiously about across the surface, searching for his phone. Having been knocked across the room the night before, it laid several feet beyond his desk. He jumped from his chair and pounced to it, dialing furiously.

"Kegan, Kegan are you there?" "Kegan is everything alright?"

"Faultner...? kzzh.."

"Kegan! Kegan!!", Faultner screamed in fury.

The phone line went dead.

"What in heaven's name..."

Faultner stood up in shock--his apartment was vibrating, gradually increasing in its volume. He leisurely walked to his window once more. Beyond the vast skyline of his city -- New Allendale -- laid a vast light, lined in smoke; screams echoed through the city's populace.

Faultner murmured sullenly, "Damn it--I need to find Kegan."

[genjix]

Going to copy-edit this. Your writing needs more work.

I Recommend this:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/User:Tony1/How_to_improve_your_writing

Also:
http://www.crockford.com/wrrrld/style.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wikipedia:Writing_better_articles

You sometimes sound a bit pretentious by using too many long words and over-expressive language. Instead try to find one strong image/analogy you want to express and write around that.

Another thing is you occasionally use words that are excess cruft and are not needed (they can be snipped without losing meaning from the original passages). Excess words = more for reader to digest + take in = takes away from understanding of words that matter = less strong atmosphere = story loses strength.

Golden Fall

Preface

The figure sat and sulked in his agony. His anguish only accented by the heavy creasing above his brow and the slouching demeanor he held in his desk chair; mumbling every few moments, venting his regret, just as a machine recedes to groans and creaks due to its long-term use -- only pointing towards eventual failure. The pain was excruciating. He was reaching his threshold--and a being as strong as he had quite a tolerance--but things have gone too far.

Sat sulking in his agony, anguish accented by a heavily creased brow and a slouched demeanor in the desk chair, X mumbled periodically. X vented regret. Groans and cycles as an old machine past it's glory days, ready to twilight into failure. Buckling pain! His pain threshold was nearly reached.

In a weave of ticks and convulsions, he swung himself among the knick-knacks and documents that lined his dark mahogany desk, strewing them in a helter-skelter of broken glass and papers across his office floor; throwing his large leather ottoman in an olympiadic fashion into the pitch darkness of his office corridor. He curled up in a fetal position and sulked in sullen agony.

Weaving with convulsions among the kick-knack packets and documents lining his thick mahogany desk, he threw everything in a helter-skelter at the floor in resignation. He sat first in the pitch black, then curled on his side sulking.

This figure's name is Emmerich Faultner. From the beginning of the early Y2K's, Faultner has been heavily invested in the rising crypto-commodity market. Due to his early adoption, Faultner has accumulated an exceptional wealth. However, tonight this has changed. Every crypto-based commodity has been made worthless by a few keystrokes of a rogue wolf, that has been sweeping the web with his new-found power in consumer-level quantum-computing technology. Mr. Faultner is only one of the many victims that had full confidence in this new agorist phenomenon -- these digital commodities.

Emmerich Faultner had invested heavily in the emerging cryptographic-commodity market from the early 2000s. As an early adopter, Faultner accumulated exceptional wealth. Tonight that changed. Crypto-commodities worldwide became worthless at a stroke by the hands of a rogue wolf utilising new consumer-grade quantum-computing. Faultner is one victim of hundreds that had given their entire confidence (and savings) to the recent agorist phenomenon of digital commodities.

[genjix]

BTW I think the story is nice. Don't get discouraged. Was offering helpful advice.

[kiba]

BTW I think the story is nice. Don't get discouraged. Was offering helpful advice.

Not offering criticism of where the story is boring is the meanest thing you can do to a writer.

[Anonymous]

I really appreciate the critique. : D It's one of the many reasons of why I am doing this. Much obliged.

[Anonymous]

As Mr. Faultner stared out the window, a looter busted through his door and shot him.

The End.

I can't continue this story any longer. However, I will remake it to something more desirable and realistic.