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About Deviant Artist Colin GanMale/Australia Recent Activity
Deviant for 13 Years
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Literature
Emma Thorn
Emma Thorn was always a big girl, and no one but the clinically blind could deny this. She was popularly regarded as the girl no one could cheat on, as once you were her boyfriend, you virtually had no eyes for anyone else as she had a notable characteristic of completely occupying anyone’s field of view with every square inch of her body.
Newspapers churned out reports of childhood obesity epidemic ad nauseam, and pictures were constantly taken of her in various stages of trying to shed the less useful parts of herself. Emma on a treadmill, Emma eating a salad, Emma walking to school instead of taking the bus, Emma always with a sad face. Emma was a big girl but she had a big heart too, if one discounted all the cholesterol buildup in her arteries.
Emma was close to accepting her fate as one who occupied both sides of a sidewalk until the aliens came. They came in droves and droves and spoke strangely and nodded quickly. They looked like eels with rudimentary arms and legs, who p
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Literature
The Aunt's Demise
The first thing that one usually does when his or her aunt is found dead is to celebrate. Of course, this process varies across cultures, but the general rule is to throw your hands up and yell "Hooray!" upon receiving the news, or discovering it.
So when little Tommy came home from soccer practice to find his aunt dead on the lazy chair in the living room, he did throw his hands up and yell "Hooray!" (Children are very well read nowadays and know all about these traditions.) He didn't yell too loud, though, as he wasn't totally sure she had expired. Tommy took as evidence her stillness, her glazed-over eyes and a little drool which had come out of her mouth, which weren't the best indicators given that she had been reported with these same expressions during her dates. He did not try checking her pulse or feeling for her temperature--no one save foolhardy, mate-hungry males should attempt physical contact with an aunt.
An even more elaborate convention of dealing with dead aunts is ho
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Literature
Same and Similar--Poem
Same and Similar are not the same
...but very similar.
Everyone at school gets them mixed up...
because everybody is so different.
Their eyes are different, someone said....
And Same is taller than his brother.
Similar can wiggle his ears (half the class can).
But still no one could get their names right.
They painted their faces,
And Mrs. Tumble got mad.
Same came in stilts,
And he fell down the stairs.
Similar wore a wig,
Which a bird stole off him.
Mum grumbled when they came home in a mess.
"If you want to look different, you shouldn't wear the same clothes!" she said.
Then they realized.
Now everyone at school can tell them apart!                                                           
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Literature
Surprise
broken beer bottles
caltrops for early joggers
hidden in the grass.
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Literature
Different Lanes
He did not want to live life in the fast lane. He did not want to languish in the slow lane, either. He was not one to compromise and settle with the middle lane. No, Richard decided to pull over altogether and have a nice long nervous breakdown.
I am going to have one, he said, when he woke up one day. He dreamt he was part of a cycad salad slowly devoured by a pink triceratops. He didn't end up having one eventually, because he had to mow the lawn and mowing the lawn put his mind off such thoughts. Plants were more pleasant things, Richard thought, they don't scream when their limbs are cut off.
The next day he was more sure he was going to crack. He felt like there was a seam in him that was going to come apart and all his stuffing would come out. He wasn't exactly sure what this stuffing was, but no one likes stuffing in Richard's family and proof of that came every time they bought roast chicken from Woolies and no one wanted to eat the miscellaneous ball of mush that occupied its
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Mature content
A Rumour :iconnilocnag:nilocnag 1 3
Literature
The Menace
Richard Ng spiked her love letter along with the household bills. Water, electricity, gas, then Susannah Prior. He had braved to read the old cow's maudlin prose once, only to be repelled by four letter words and hot, sticky affection rising from the paper along with the fetid perfume she wore. She had passed into neighbourhood lore as the horniest witch of the suburbs, whose art of seduction could wilt libidos and draw shudders from the entire male population.
The Prior woman kept a high fence around her house, which received an above average sum of eggs during Halloween and contributed to the low price of real estate on the same street. Some respectable ladies at the lawnbowls club commented she had lost it after her husband Jerry eloped with a Qantas stewardess. She'd drift from man to man, searching for a vision of her destined mate in the nervous faces of bachelors half her age. A bank teller at ANZ, a cafe owner, a plumber, a teacher, even a homeless by the side of the road count
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Literature
Highway Home
Shaun drew a face in the shifting dust, admired it for a moment, then scuffed it out with his feet as he got up. Mark said he'd be there, three o'clock at the most. He sighed. The caravan still had some water left, might as well finish it. He walked against the breeze, jeans stained with red dirt, feet making a scrabbling noise as he opened the caravan door and leant his weight on the ground while he bent over the seat and retrieved the esky. It still stank of old crab and salted ice from Hendrick's little trip up north. The water tasted a bit bitter from the ice, but what the hell. Two more hours in midsummer heat.
On the highway no one bothers where each other is going, because they are always heading where you're not, and close contact with strangers with no one else about for miles makes being outgoing difficult. Because names were never told. Shaun saw himself already home in Brisbane, asking Mum about the new washing machine and the competition she won it in. None of this shit wi
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Literature
A Penny for the Well
A girl named Susanna once lived in a village in front of an old well. The village had long ago paid the water company to pipe water to their houses, and ever since the well had remained out of use. The villagers made up rumours to attract tourists that the well was a wishing well; flocks of them visited the village to lean over its side and drop a coin in there, hoping their cancer would be cured or their numbers would show up in the lottery. That was many years back, though; Susanna was ready to believe what her grandparents heard from their grandparents, and so on and so forth until the legend seemed to be regarded as true only because so many before believed it.
Susanna had funny crooked teeth and frizzy hair but she was pretty otherwise. The boys in the village did not like her very much, and that pained her. She fussed over her looks constantly while all the other girls had to do was brush their hair in the morning. She was so desperate one night, after reading girl's magazines an
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Literature
flax reeds stir in the breeze
The bandages loosen up and the flax reeds stir in the breeze. My half has split and gone off running, one leg only, through the forest of tall heads and golden fruit tasseled into the heads of the plants. Some grey man stomps and grunts in the shed off my vision: kerdhump dhump dhump darn and pause, kerdhump boomp and the hands continue to work the grains into the boxes. I am still here, this speaking quarter dissolving into a pure lump of vocal pleasure.
My other half is tumbling in the weeds near the house where the gate slams shut and creaks open like the sound of a mouth making the cry of red Indian warfare. The grey man threshes the grain and the cars and jeeps and lorries cart the boxes up to the factories in the hills with small fat men who grind it and polish it and beat it into finest dust of flour. Bags and bags on straining backs and arms toiling the powdered gold, setting it onto gleaming black trains to head into the city. I am lying flat on my back now, my arm reaching to
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Literature
Flowers, Drenched in Water
"Don't forget one o'clock."
"Of course I won't. I'll be there like last time."
"You weren't there last time."
"Well, I'll remember today."
Mrs. Turner rolled to her side on the bed and saw a fresh bunch of flowers on the high ledge of the wardrobe. She rolled back and, her head slightly lifted up, she saw the smiling figure of her daughter on the seat at the foot of the bed. Alice Turner stood up and, feeling her mother's expectations grow on her, gave a light kiss on the forehead. Mrs. Turner let out one breath, relaxed, and sank back to her warm mattress.
"I talked to the doctor," Alice said, "The operation went well."
"I only woke up yesterday," Mrs. Turner said, "and I am still so tired from the surgery."
"What are they feeding you here? I'll get Karen to bring some food from home. It might be that."
The mother ran her hands along her arms under the stiff sheets. They felt so rough and bony now, and not as if her own. The flowers on the ledge sparkled as if having energy of their o
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Literature
Short Story Pointers
1. Abstractions
Avoid using abstract ideas such as love, hate, envy and death directly. If your writing's any good you'll be able to imply it, not state it outright. Using these words also cause the story to become over-sentimental slop, so please think very carefully about using them.
2. Unity
This isn't a good idea, because the reader will be left wondering what it was all about after reading it. Don't go off on a tangent and suddenly describe that lady with the alsatian on the sidewalk if you're painting a picture of distress of the homeless man next to her.
After a reading a reader should be able to express what the story was about in a sentence, like "This story is about a family man disintegrating mentally due to an abnormal fixation to the past." (an example from mine). The story must have a focus, and work towards it.
3. Quotations
Some writers like to quote something at the beginning of the story, be it a fragment of a lyric or a definition of a word from the dictionary. This
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Literature
Raindrops Have Shadows Too
They really do. I saw them on the window beside me in the waiting room before the interview. I never knew such small, short-lived things could have shadows. They're just dots of moisture, particles sticking to glass. Who would think they had shadows?
I shook the umbrella dry under the porch and went inside to tell my dad I got the job. He was fixing the curtain rod in the living room when I told him the good news. He didn't say anything at first; sometimes I think he's deaf, or too preoccupied.
"That's good," he finally said while stepping down from the ladder, "but don't get too excited."
"It's one of those first time things, Dad."
"I know, I know," He wiped his glasses clean on his shirt. "It's just that things are different nowadays. The economy's not the same as when I was your age, all young and energetic.
"Pretty soon you'll feel the brunt of the work. Your boss will hint to you how insecure your job is. Max five years, I read in the Australian. Most don't even go over two."
I wa
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Literature
Shopping for Dinner
The old lady forgot to take her shopping list with her, and so she drove her trolley from aisle to aisle, squinting her eyes at the small labels on jars and constantly placing and replacing vegetables as she pressured herself to remember how much; was it one, two or three kilos of broccoli? Just take three to be safe.
Her red shawl fluttered on her shoulders as she stooped to inspect the trays of meat in the freezer section. All in rows, pink and fresh. Her mother always got the meat from the butcher, but in the supermarket everything was here: sauces and jams and powdered soup in packets. The meat felt juicy from pressing through the plastic wrapping. It felt very real.
Same deal, then; remembering how many at the table, puzzling over who ate the most. Tom was a big eater, I think I'll take two. Two trays of topside roast and yearling and t-bone and this and this and that...
The old lady threw in a pack of frozen peas and carrots. No more peeling and scraping and washing. Just straigh
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Literature
The Bear Family
During winter there were no more fish in the streams and rivers and the trees had no more of the sweet berries the bear family loved. Their stocks of dried fish and meat had run low and Baby Bear went for a week without fish to save the rations. Every morning Daddy Bear poked his head out of the den and, if it was sunny, he would go to the river and try his luck anyway. The ice smashed easily under his great paws but he found nothing. No fresh meat for weeks and that sweet berry longing was gathering in their mouths while they waited for spring.
The whole family tumbled out when Mama Bear noticed the sun was out for days. The dread winter had ended, and Daisy Bear danced in the spring blossoms and the half-melted snow, overjoyed that their fasting was over. Daddy Bear smiled at his daughter and pawed moist soil from the ground to feel spring through his claws.
As they trundled through the woods, they noticed spring was not quite over yet. The trees had all sprouted new leaves and branc
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Literature
Asking the Time
Louis felt his wrists and realized he hadn't worn his watch that morning. It must still be on the dresser in the hotel room, prey to a cleaning maid's greed. The train was pulling out now; no chance for going back. The train chugged along, and out from the window Louis sat beside the people flashed, blurred, then melded into the grey cutouts of city buildings beyond.
At least he knew when the train arrived: ten o'clock. That was enough. When he got back off he would check the clock in the next station. Or perhaps he could ask someone. The train this trip was crammed nearly full of people--frowning old men, elated children, bored regulars, making the journey for some chronic reason--wife in hospital, visiting relatives, going to work. Post-Christmas and everyone was apt to start moving again, like ants reorganizing the nest.
Where home was, was something unimportant but vital. Louis knew and accepted this, and that was why he needed the move. Same faces, same clothes--they meant less an
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Favourites

here he came by Visceralmilk here he came :iconvisceralmilk:Visceralmilk 152 21 Human legs served by vanoostzanen Human legs served :iconvanoostzanen:vanoostzanen 297 121 Fowl Ball by jasinski Fowl Ball :iconjasinski:jasinski 265 53 My Whole Self Escorting ... by dizzykill My Whole Self Escorting ... :icondizzykill:dizzykill 438 73 Love is a Broken Jetpack... by soldierofsolace Love is a Broken Jetpack... :iconsoldierofsolace:soldierofsolace 348 115 in the land of ladybirds by rodulfo in the land of ladybirds :iconrodulfo:rodulfo 550 57 Snack Time by jasinski Snack Time :iconjasinski:jasinski 598 155 caos by agnes-cecile caos :iconagnes-cecile:agnes-cecile 1,924 149 Seedmage by ursulav Seedmage :iconursulav:ursulav 848 90 Morning Wood by ursulav
Mature content
Morning Wood :iconursulav:ursulav 1,803 486
Bedtime for Peasemore by WildWoodArtsCo Bedtime for Peasemore :iconwildwoodartsco:WildWoodArtsCo 205 26 Inside Out by lukechueh Inside Out :iconlukechueh:lukechueh 347 20 Fast Food Nation. by keegsmeister Fast Food Nation. :iconkeegsmeister:keegsmeister 12 15 JUMP so HIGH by Jodmiester JUMP so HIGH :iconjodmiester:Jodmiester 143 85 Summer by feimo Summer :iconfeimo:feimo 6,093 610

Activity


I can't believe something I wrote made it to DD... and I only just found out!

I rarely visit DA these days, let alone write. I'm very happy to see people enjoying my work. And thank you to those who pointed out errors -- admittedly, I didn't pay too much attention to proof-reading the Aunt's Demise, as it doesn't have much of a plot and it was never a major piece of writing for me. Just a little humour on the side....

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Colin Gan
Artist
Australia
Current Residence: Perth
Favourite style of art: Anime
Operating System: Windows
Personal Quote: Talent is latent.
Interests

Comments


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:iconsoldierofsolace:
soldierofsolace Featured By Owner Mar 21, 2010  Professional General Artist
I know this is late but thanks for the support. I really appreciate it. :aww:
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:iconmode-de-vie:
mode-de-vie Featured By Owner Jul 23, 2009  Student Writer
Congratulations on your Daily Deviation! :) I've placed a link to it in the sidebar of my journal page.
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:iconvampirella87:
Vampirella87 Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2007
Hey there :wave:

How are you? :)
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:iconkitskids:
kitskids Featured By Owner Feb 24, 2007  Professional General Artist
I fell down it made me cry.
I saw your hand and heard you say,
"get up now we'll be okay."

thanks for the fav.
kit.
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:iconesin:
Esin Featured By Owner Feb 14, 2007
thank you for the :+fav:
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:iconcloudrat:
cloudrat Featured By Owner Nov 28, 2006  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Another white rodent ... I didn't think I'd find another one here. But greetings!
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:iconkeegsmeister:
keegsmeister Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2006
Superb gallery. Maybe you can start a new revolution and become a literature pharmacist, whatever that means. =)
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:iconilona:
ilona Featured By Owner Nov 14, 2005
Thank you Colin:sun:
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:iconbikaze:
BiKaZe Featured By Owner Nov 9, 2005
Nice Gallery!
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:iconlelekelley:
lelekelley Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2005
I remember you.

How you been?
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