Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Posted: December 17, 2012 in Uncategorized

A friend of mine wrote this article about how we shouldn’t worry that we’re going to die Friday as the Mayan calendar winds down. Instead, let’s party because it’s just the solstice. Check out the article, check out the video, and just check out his blog in general.

Stories by Williams

Worlds CollidingIt seems NASA spends untold resources trying to debunk conspiracy theories and doomsday predictions. Sad, when you consider all the wonderful uses this time and energy could be dedicated towards, like putting people on Mars! In any case, and in anticipation for this coming Friday (and Saturday, if all goes well!), I thought I’d share this video NASA released to put people’s minds at ease. The world will NOT end on Dec. 21st, 2012, it claims, and presents the scientific findings that say so.

Set on Dec. 22nd, 2012, the video approaches the apocalypse as if it is something that has already come and gone and proceeds to explain how the myth of the 2012 End of the World scenario began in the first place. In examining the actual Mayan Calendar, the reasons for why the calendar ends when it does, and taking a look at all the stellar and…

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While I’m watching the presidential results on MSNBC, I’m also writing and editing Snake, specifically Chapter 40 right now. This is the chapter where word of the Snake’s exploits have gotten out to the public thanks to the media, and the other mafia families are noticing the top dog isn’t looking so good right now.

This is a very interesting chapter for me, both in terms of NaNoWriMo progress and in terms of the chapter itself. In terms of NaNoWriMo, this is my fifth chapter written (don’t get too excited, none of the chapters are past seven pages), with around fifty-four hundred words written. So I’ve got less than 44K words left. Not too bad, not too bad at all. Having small chapters helps.

As for the chapter itself, it would’ve been much shorter if I hadn’t decided to do a little character-building: at first the two mafia characters in this chapter, Dibacca and Cabrera, were nameless. They would’ve just showed up and then got swept into a dustbin. But I decided to see what would happen if I tried to make them more memorable than just the characters who are the first to learn of how much the Snake is changing the underworld’s landscape? At the very least it might draw out the chapter a few pages.

And you know what? Not only did the chapter get lengthened a bit, but the chapter is much better. Cabrera and Dibacca have depth, and you actually grow a little fond of them. In fact, if these two characters weren’t mafioso, they’d make a great comedy act (or maybe Dibacca would kill Cabrera out of annoyance). We see how much the Snake is affecting the world of organized crime, and just how much it increases everyone’s stress.

At the very least, it’s a pretty good first draft, and I wish to share it with you.

So here’s Chapter 40. You don’t need to know anything about Snake or to have read other excerpts to read this chapter. All you need to know is this: the Snake is a serial killer hunting members of the Camerlengo mafia family (in the book I’ve already revealed why the Snake is doing the killing, but I’m not revealing it here; that’s too much of a reveal). Since most of America don’t know why the Snake calls himself the Snake or why the police calls himself the Snake (two very different reasons, I assure you), the media and New York has taken to calling him the New York Mafia Killer, and he’s captured the people’s imagination.

In the last couple of chapters, the Snake has escaped an entire task force that’s been trying to capture him. The media is all over it, and word’s starting to get out. Everybody’s wondering: can the New York Mafia Killer be caught?


“Alright.” said Dibacca, looking out the window as he talked on his phone. “Uh-huh. We get it, sir. You be careful as well. See you at the meeting on Wednesday. Bye.” Dibacca shut his phone and sighed. “Goddammit.”

“What happened?” asked Cabrera, signaling that he wanted to make a lane change. “Is it…you know?”

Dibacca groaned from the passenger seat, rubbing his hand up and down his face. “Yep, it is.” he growled. “The New York Mafia Killer. The bosses just got word that Roman Veretti was the latest victim. The crazy bastard really did a number on him, too.”

“Jesus Christ.” said Cabrera, moving into the right lane. “What sort of number did he do to him?”

“I didn’t ask, you dummy.” Dibacca replied. “Could you turn on the radio or something? I don’t want to think about the New York Mafia Killer or the Veretti kid right now.”

“Yeah, sure thing.” Cabrera leaned over in his seat and punched the audio dial. As the display screen lit up, a woman’s voice came over the speakers. “…sources say that the New York Mafia Killer evaded an entire force made up of police and FBI agents, injuring at least ten members of the task force and one attack dog. It is unknown how the suspect managed to evade the entire force, or how seriously injured the officers are. Law enforcement officials are at this time not commenting on the fiasco. From Suffolk County, I’m Candace Berman, reporting to you at the scene of the crime.”

Dibacca and Cabrera stared at each other. Finally, Dibacca broke the silence and said, “Turn it off.”


“I said turn it off!” Dibacca shouted; Cabrera sputtered to life and pressed the audio dial, his left hand turning the steering wheel sharply to the right. The car drifted to the right and almost off the road.

“Get off the curb, you idiot!” shouted Dibacca; Cabrera took back control of the wheel and righted the course of the car, smoothly exiting off the highway and pulling off to the side of the road.

Dibacca and Cabrera sighed as Cabrera put the car into park. “Oh my God.” said Cabrera. “That was crazy.”

“What were you doing?!” shouted Dibacca, slapping Cabrera in the head. “Trying to get us both killed?”

“Jeez, I’m sorry!” said Cabrera, rubbing the spot where Dibacca had slapped him. “No need to go ballistic.”

“Can we just hurry up and get this over with?” asked Dibacca, a vein pulsing in his forehead. “I wanna get home. ‘Sides, the higher-ups want everyone on pimp duty home early.”

“Early?” Cabrera repeated. “Why do they want us to be home early?”

Dibacca gave a loud cry of frustration before turning to his partner and shouting, “Because of the killer, you moron! Think about it, he’s killed four of our guys, and he evaded an entire team of feds and cops! Of course they want us home early! What, did you think they wanted us to study for a quiz on The Colbert Show?”

“Why would they do a quiz on The Colbert Show?” asked Cabrera. “Jon Stewart’s a thousand times funnier.”

“Just drive, you numbskull!” shouted Dibacca.

When they finally reached the pick-up location, the sky was beginning to brighten a little, becoming a soft purple. Dibacca and Cabrera got out of the car and looked around for the girls under their watch. Not a soul was around.

“Where the hell are they?” growled Dibacca.

“I don’t know.” said Cabrera. A second later, Cabrera had lifted his hands to his face and was shouting, “Chontelle! Cassidy! Euphie!”

“What the hell are you doing?” snarled Dibacca.

“I’m just calling for the girls.” said Cabrera.

“No you’re not!” said Dibacca, stomping over to Cabrera. “You’re alerting the serial killer and all his fans to where we are just so you can see that thing you’ve been seeing on the side!”

“Huh? Wait, I don’t know what you’re talking about—!”

“I know you’re seeing that slut Euphie!” Dibacca cut in. “And she may be some sweet Kansas girl, but she’s nothing but bad news! Getting involved with any whore is bad news. Especially when you happen to have no brains in that thick head of yours!”

“What’d you just say about Euphie—?”

“Sheesh, what’s with all the noise?” said a voice. Dibacca and Cabrera turned to see three men in expensive suits. One of them, a dark-skinned man wearing a gold ring and a goatee, strode towards Dibacca and Cabrera, grinning from ear to ear.

“This neighborhood must really be going to the dogs,” said the man, his voice matching the one that had spoken earlier, “if two grown men can stand around arguing at the top of their lungs about the quality of golden-hearted whores. Euphie…was she by any chance the one with the cheap rose earrings? Cute girl. Last one to leave after we chased them off. Kept saying she wanted to see her Eddie. That you, hotshot?”

“Who the hell are you?” asked Dibacca, the vein in his forehead pulsing again. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not really in the mood to entertain, so why don’t you just tell us where we can find our whores and we can be on our merry way.”

The man with the goatee clicked his tongue and said, “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Danny Baldwin, these two are Gomez and Gold, and we’re the new owners of this spot.”

“What the hell is he talking about, D?” asked Cabrera. “This is Camerlengo land. Everybody knows that.”

“First off, I told you to lay off with that stupid nickname. Save it for the fantasy basketball league, you moron.” said Dibacca. “Second, I’ve heard of you, Baldwin. You work for the Cromlin group. And none of Cromlin’s men would ever pick a fight with us.”

“That’s how it used to be.” said Baldwin, flashing another grin. “But things have changed. After all, the New York Mafia Killer is going strong, and he’s killed four of your men. Most don’t even get past planning to kill one. So, if he can get away with four…”

Baldwin snapped his fingers and his partners pulled out handguns from within their suit jackets, pointing the guns at Dibacca and Cabrera.

“…why can’t we?” Baldwin finished.

Cabrera and Dibacca glanced at each other, and a silent message passed between them. Striding forward to Baldwin, trying to give off his most powerful alpha-male air, Dibacca smoothed his hair back and said, “Look pal, I know the serial killer’s got everybody on edge. But don’t take that as some stupid excuse to go and pick a fight with us. After all, the Camerlengos are still top dog, last I checked. So why don’t you and your pals do the smart thing and scoot out of here? We’re both busy men who’ve got to collect from our whores, and we don’t want to waste any more time on you.”

To Dibacca’s surprise, Baldwin just laughed. “Oh, I’d do just that…except my boss wants me to ‘knock out your support beams’.” Baldwin replied, making quotation marks in the air.

“Cromlin said that?” said Dibacca, disbelieving.

“Yeah.” Baldwin answered. “And in any way we can.”

Dibacca felt something poke him in the belly. A second later there was a loud bang and Dibacca felt something hot and painful pierce through his stomach. Looking down, he saw a small river of blood forming just beneath his suit jacket. Feeling dizzy, Dibacca fell over, holding a hand to his stomach.

“Dibacca!” Cabrera shouted, reaching into his jacket. Without a second’s hesitation, Baldwin’s companions cocked back the hammers on their guns and started shooting. Cabrera flailed around like a clown on a ball before falling over, his face and body riddled with holes.

Dibacca turned over and stared at Cabrera, his face stuck in a horrible expression of surprise, as if he hadn’t seen his own death coming. Ah shit. thought Dibacca. Even that numbskull didn’t deserve this. From behind him, Baldwin was talking as if he were discussing travel plans with a coworker.

“Once we take over this area of town, your regular customers will start paying us.” he said, walking around Dibacca. “And if the other gangs and families are thinking like we are—strike now while the iron’s hot—the Camerlengos will lose at least a third of their territory and your foreign contacts. That’s millions in profits down the tubes if you can’t sell girls overseas.”

“You bastard.” Dibacca growled, spitting on Baldwin’s shoes.

Baldwin shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve been called worse.” he said, pointing his gun at Dibacca’s head and squeezing the trigger.

The world ceased to be.

Posted: October 31, 2012 in Uncategorized

Except for the size of my body and the length of my hair, my superhero alter-ego is what I see in my mind. Pretty awesome. Thanks Matt, and I can’t wait to start rooting out evil. Revengers, unite!

Stories by Williams

Happy Halloween everybody! In honor of this momentous occasion, I have decided to release the starting lineup of the Revengers! And here they are, a new superhero team to save the day, and with none of that sissy Avenger stuff neither! No, these are the Revengers! A dark justice league for the new era, taking on the scum and villainy of the world, and doing it Revenger-style!

Atrum Auditor:
Alter ego:
Kevin Roussy, beer advocate
Appearance: Black slacks, black button down long sleeve shirt, combat boots, utility belt.
Abilities: Telepathy, Teleportation, Precognition
Backstory: Atrum Auditor was the product of a corporate warlord’s mistress and genetic manipulation. He was raised in secret to be a master at corporate espionage, but defied his father to go rogue and began using his powers for justice instead of peersonal gain. Now, he seeks the world secrets, releasing government and trade information to the…

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Last night I was thinking of some of the short stories I’ve written over the years that I never got around to giving a second edit. I wondered why I’d never gotten to editing them. And then it hit me: those stories, good or bad, were meant to be teaching stories. To be more exact, they were stories that were meant to teach me something new about writing. I was writing these short stories as learning experiences and hadn’t realized it up until this point, but now that I do, it makes sense why I wrote them in the first place.

I remember this one story I wrote late in my senior year of high school, that was meant to be like a probing psychological examination of two men traveling through space. Of course I failed miserably, but I learned a couple of things writing it, including that you need a lot more than two dudes talking about their feelings in a space ship to make a good story. Back in late winter-early spring, I wrote a short story about a guy who found a letter and then started eating fiction books (not sure if that one can’t be published, but it’s still very weird). I think that one was a lesson on magical realism and showing versus telling and how to draw out a story.

And remember the succubus and doll stories from this summer? Yeah, those were on why you shouldn’t go overboard on the plots of stories and forget the character development, because let’s face it, those stories were so focused on the plot the stories worked against themselves.

So now what am I going to do when it comes to writing short stories? Well, I think I won’t expect every story I write has to be published. Instead, I’ll see where a story can take me and if it can be published, that’s great. I’ll also try new methods of coming up with short stories, some of which I picked up from other people who’ve used these methods to come up with short stories. I’ll let you know if they come of anything, but before I do any of that, I need to finish editing Reborn City.

Until next time (which might be sooner than we both think).

It’s Homecoming! O-H!

Last night started OSU’s homecoming weekend, which is always a blast on our campus. There’s a huge parade that goes right by my dorm, and I had one of the best spots along the parade route. Why was it one of the best spots? Simple; not only did I see our university’s president, Dr. E. Gordon Gee, up close when he passed by in a shiny red Corvette, I got to shake his hand when I called out to him and he noticed me! Me! Out of all the cheering people, he noticed me and shook my hand! I did wash my hand later, but I was pretty reluctant.

This was my second time meeting and getting to talk with President Gee, the first time happening last year when he visited my dorm during an event (photo to the right). And speaking of events at my dorm, the Illibuck trophy, a turtle-shaped trophy that is brought out during Ohio State-Illinois games and is held by whoever won the previous year’s game (pictured below), made a guest appearance at my dorm during an event involving quesadillas and a Mario Kart tournament.

The Illibuck trophy may not seem like much to those who aren’t crazy fans of Ohio State, but to major fans who know what it is, it’s a big deal.

I got to take a photo with the Illibuck, and let me tell you, it’s pretty cool. That’s a piece of Ohio State football memorabilia and it’s right in my hands. I really enjoyed seeing it and holding it in my hands (once again, see below).

Me with the Illibuck, with the past 5 OSU-Illinois games and the scores on it’s back. Don’t I look happy?

Right now I’m watching the homecoming game, after which I’ll tune in to Saturday Night Live. During commercial breaks I’ll work on the final edits of Reborn City. In the meantime, before I do any more work on RC, I’d like to congratulate my relatives in Michigan on their football team getting a victory over a Purdue. Although I like Purdue slightly better than I like Michigan, I admit your victory was pretty impressive, with a difference of 27 points.

All for now. Bye.

Deborah Lipstadt speaking in the auditorium of the Ohio State University Hillel on April 24, 2012

I had a wonderful evening tonight. Why, you ask? I got to hear Deborah Lipstadt speak! For those of you who don’t know, Deborah Lipstadt is the formost expert on Holocaust deniers and how to combat them. I read her book, Denying the Holocaust, and I found it very informative. It was amazing to hear her speak. 

During the course of the hour-long talk, Professor Lipstadt talked about some fo the methods of Holocaust deniers and their motivations, how she came to research and write about the topic, and, what I thought was most amazing, how she was sued by a henier from the United Kingdom named David Irving because she’d mentioned him in her book and he was accusing her of libel. 

That was pretty amazing in itself: with the help of Princess Diana’s lawyer, she ripped this guy to shreds on the stand, and all without putting the Holocaust and its truth on the stand! Now the guy’s a disgrace, forced to “verdict-deny”. 

What I took away from it though, besides the fact that I need to do some more studying of the Holocaust (it’s the focus of my history major, after all), is that, even ten years after the trial wrapped up, Deborah Lipstadt still considers herself very lucky that she won that trial. I find that very beautiful. 

Tomorrow, I’ll put this, and all the other events of Holocaust Awareness Week, into an article for the Pulse. I’ll let you guys know when it comes out. Should be an interesting read.

No, the title of this post is not a reference to the Super Bowl. You’ll probably be disappointed to know that I am not a fan of sports and only watched a small part of the Super Bowl just so I could be social with the other tenants of my building.

Anyway, to the point of the post: I just got out of the last of my midterms, so the quarter is officially halfway done. Another four weeks and I’ll be worrying about finals! Yippee! My tests were okay, I think I did especially well on my History exam. The English exam was difficult though because it involved a lot of poetry and as you probably realized, I’m mostly a fiction kind of guy. Anyway, I’ll keep working hard.

Oh, and speaking of fiction, I’m still giving Reborn City another edit, but what I’ve done so far is pretty good. I think that maybe after this edit I’ll be ready to find an agent. Let’s keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best, okay?

In the meantime, I’ll try and get some editing done after this post. Bye!

Helping inspiration

Posted: August 2, 2011 in Uncategorized

I look at the sources of my inspirations as helping me become a writer. So when I heard of these petitions, I wanted to help too and show my appreciation. Please follow the links below if you don’t mind helping me help my sources of inspiration:
If you are unable to follow the links, sorry about that. Just copy and paste in a new tab, and you should be fine though.

a little background

Posted: August 2, 2011 in Uncategorized

So, for all of you who are reading this, I am Rami Ungar. And my blog is “Rami Ungar the Writer”, because there’s a Rami Ungar in Israel who is a big shipping magnate, and I don’t want to be confused for him. So a little background about my exploits in writing.

First, I’ve wanted to be a writer since I first read the Harry Potter books. This dream evolved once I started to read Anne Rice and Stephen King, and then I wanted to writer horror/sci-fi/fantasy books, which is what I’ve been attempting to do for some time now.

As of now, I have two short stories and one epic poem on the website TeenInk under the pen name Anubis, a few short articles and quotes in the Ohio Jewish Chronicle, a quote in the Columbus Dispatch, a letter to the editor in People magazine, and a short story in the Winter 2011 edition of TEA, A Magazine.

Currently, I am working on several short stories and am in the middle of the editing process of a novel I wrote called Reborn City. I hope that someday all these will be published so that you, dear reader, can read them.

That’s all for now. I’ll update when I have something significant to put down.