Posts Tagged ‘ Writing Challenge ’

Solar-Powered 3D Printer and Sinter Style Prompt!

Happy Monday,

After doing the research on the Up-Cycled 3D Materials, I stumbled onto a couple of other very interesting methods that print with sustainable materials. I wanted to share one of those ideas to spark the Monday Blues away.

From the wandering genius, Markus Kayser, comes the SolarSinter Project.


Check out this Printer in Action HERE.

If that picture isn’t enough to wet your Creative Whistle, here is some bowls made from Moroccan-Flavored Sand.

Morocco Flavored Bowls

Between the SolarSinter and the SunCutter (Solar-Powered Cutting Tool) Markus has provided some spectacular building tools that can utilize both Sun and Sand. Of course my mind questioned what else a Solar-Powered SLS (Selective Laser Sintering) system that produces a solar beam of over 1600 °C (2912 °F) can do.

But first, I want to thank Markus for risking the dangers of the desert to prove this fantastic concept. You are a DIY Pioneer.

With that being said, many elements can be melted with this powerful thermal beam. Iron melts at about 1550 °C, Aluminum melts at 770 °C but those are just the pure powdered metals. Alloys melt at lower temperatures and a lot of the most interesting applications would most likely be in the alloy arena.

Useful Alloy Examples

Stainless 18-8 melts at about 1380 °C
Hard steel melts at about 1370 °C
Inconel steel melts at about 1350 °C

Monel melts at about 1320 °C

Easier said then done of course, but I think Markus Kayser’s amazing SolarSinter is just scratching the surface of its capabilities. I want to throw out a challenge to the Hackerspace Community to either contact Markus to see if he is willing to share the design in a true DIY fashion or go out and build your own thermal beam powered SLS.

Hint – Four Large Fresnel Lenses

I am going to end this entry here before I pollute any one’s Prompt Writing with my own ideas.

PROMPT – How would your character utilize the thermal beam power of the SolarSinter. For community good? For purposeful evil? For sibling shenanigans?

Have a Fantastic Monday,

Sir Drewster III

PS – I want to thank for the wonderful ARTICLE that started me down this particular Research Rabbit Hole.

Workshop OR Challenge? You decide!

Hey Everyone,

I sat down today to do a Prompt, but got distracted. I am in a new Creative Writing class right now and we had to write a Prompt along the lines of, write the action leading up to an Aha! moment. I guess this is one of those classic Prompts that seemed to be so out of the Fantasy world, they don’t really inspire me too much, but I did it like a good student because I paying a lot of money for this class.

Before we get to the story, today I am trying something new. You can either Workshop the story in the comments or try to figure a way to tie this into the Fantasy genre.

CHALLENGE – Workshop the roughest of rough drafts or Suggest in the comments what ways this story could transform into something Fantasy based. 

Here is the story! Remember, we are not writing realization, just the action up to the Aha! moment.


The cold of the snow seemed to be stuck in my fingers. A snowmen army may have been over ambitious for the chilly December day. Snow was different in December. It was hard, unforgiving, perfect for snowmen and snow balls, but it could seep deep into fingers that had only seen eight previous winters.

It was hard to resist a snow filled Saturday, especially with a family of seven. My brothers and sisters were busy making snow angels with my parents when I tried to recover the feeling in my fingers.

As the wooden stairs creaked under my slight weight, a tingle in my pinky encouraged my current de-thawing method of shake and suck. My Power Ranger themed boots came off in a few practiced motions as I noted an odd flavor on my index finger.

The entry way to my family’s four bedroom haven was unnoticed as my coat was abandoned in the hallway that lead to the linoleumed kitchen. One benefit of the cold weather was ability to quick slide across the smooth patterned floor on socks that seemed to be made for this type of transportation.

A quick look in the fridge did nothing to quiet my stomach or regain the motion of my thumbs. The calorie burn of assembling an army made of frozen water demanded refueling and the flavor coming off my fingers as each got their turn de-thawing needed to be replaced by something less salty. I closed the yellowed door holding five Christmas lists of varying readability and looked for something to cure my current needs. My eyes found the perfect mark.

Upon the old maple table my dad said his dad made, holiday desserts awaited my hunger. The story of that table made me think of the Brawny paper towel man chopping wood in a forest, slaving away for something my family now used as a landing pad for food and school books. I wished my grandpa didn’t die before I could articulate that my fingers were almost back to normal functioning appendages.

With my parents busy outside, my siblings otherwise occupied, and my stomach soon to be appeased with sugar perfection, it was time for adventure. A new house renovation had caused some areas of the house to be closed off for six months to then be reopened as the first snows hit. A grand tour was given to educate the family of the new areas they could use.

This openness was short-lived. As soon as the new rooms opened, add-on-land was closed up for the season. Locks, which were a new concept for the house, were added to my parent’s room and my dad’s new office before a proper inspection of these rooms could be had.

This mystery would now gain my full attention. I walked out of the kitchen, glanced at the Christmas tree to make sure Santa had not come while we were outside, went down the new hall that connected these new areas to the original house, and prepared myself for some lock picking.

Since I had no idea how to lock pick, I just started trying to use anything to open my parent’s door. I soon realized without a key, this door would be impossible. The new office was next.

This lock was not as heavily guarded. A quick carpet slide down the hall, landed me outside of my own room hunting for a wire hanger. With some quick handy work, I was able to fashion my first lock pick. I thanked my cartoon education for the episode behind my new lock pick and slide back to the unsuspecting door.

The bent head of the hanger slide into the door and after some aiming, a click released the catch of the lock. I pulled the handle down, cracked the door, scoped the room for any danger, and then eased into the room like a shy animal that slithers. I looked around and saw my father’s life spread out like one of the story books he read to us at night.

Desk, chair, lamp, pens, all the boring stuff an office holds could barely hold my eyes suspicious judgement. The closed closet made me pause.

Three quick steps placed me in front of the most mysterious thing I had met since breakfast’s odd episode of a new method to making pancakes. My fingers trembled as I reached for the inset circular handle of the door. The cold in my fingers now totally replaced with the thrill of the adventure.

I slide the door open as if it was pressurized. SWOOSH! My excitement burst as I found trash bag after trash bag laying on top of each other. Either my dad had gone crazy or he was storing our garbage for future use.

Since a smell didn’t blast my nostrils, I took a chance and made my fingers untie one of the tied bags. The shaking stopped as the bag fell open.


I know there is a lot to work on, and since this is the roughest of the rough, you can just post your comments on the story in the comments section. I promise to post a more conventional Prompt later this weekend, but I wanted to see the reaction to this post.

NOTE – If you did have any comments, don’t post huge chunks of the story, try to just get the relevant areas to back up your claim. Just referring to a section of the story is fine by me, I will figure it out.

Hope this is a little different for your weekend boredom (that is if you are bored).

Have a Safe and Happy Weekend,

Sir Drewster III