Writing Day 25

2376 Words
44,011 Total

Well, that wasn't as hard as I was sure it was going to be.  After Day 24, I was thinking I would have no idea what to do next, but after I sat down tonight and started typing, it pretty much came together, so I'm feeling relieved.

Now on to the next day of writing...

There is a feeling of dread now as the days wind down.  I have 6 more days using the writing kit though I'm sure I'll reach 50,000 words before the end and I know the book won't be finished.  The kit recommends rushing the end anyway, just so its complete, but that makes it worse because I really have NO idea how this is going to end.  I'm trying to keep the faith with this and thinking that it will come to me, because I've been managing so far, but its really flying by the seat of your pants writing.

I might have mentioned previously that the book I'm writing has been floating around in my head for years - well one of the big obstacles has been the fact that I never knew how to end it or what would be a good ending.  I'm not trying to go for the 'Happily Ever After' type of ending - just one that makes sense and feels right.  I would hate for someone to read it and go, "Bleh."  I've done that at the end of a book and I certainly don't want that reaction to my novel.

Anyway... here is today's sample:

She picked up her cup of coffee and curled her fingers around it as she held it to her chest, liking the warmth it provided through her palms.  There were a lot of words on her lips to say, but they felt pointless now that everything was said and done.  She wanted to be angry and shout, but it was like her body had maxed out on that emotion, as if she was an overcharged credit card.  “Well…  I don’t forgive him.”

“He doesn’t expect you to.”

“I don’t want to see him either.  Not right now.”



“Okay.  Whatever you want.”

Samantha gave a snort, “What I want is to go back home to my parent’s house, curl up in my bed and have none of this happen.”

So, noticing that there aren't many people reading these posts anymore...  I'm keeping notes and when I'm a rich and famous author, there are definitely some people who are going to be on my list...  :P

Or else my samples are really boring and uninteresting so followers have given up.  Hmmm....

Writing Day 23

2576 Words
42,748 Total

Well, I hit this week's goal of 40,000 words with a bit of room to spare I might add!  According to the No Plot? No Problem kit, I am nearly at my 50,000 word total.  Ok, not nearly, but pretty darn close.  Luckily this past bit was sort of easy in terms of writing since I knew what was going to happen here.  I have no idea what happens next, but that will be the next sit down tomorrow.  Hopefully it will come together!  I'm still unsure if the overall story will be interesting or if the ideas and things are heavy handed or just plain boring. Its like staring at a word that you know you spelled right, but just looks wrong... 

Tomorrow starts week four and technically the last section before the end of this process.  I'm not sure what the next part will have me do or how I'll be feeling by the end, but right now, I'm feeling pretty good.  That feeling you get when you ride a bike up a hill and are now seeing that the rest is downhill.

I have no idea if it will be all downhill from here, but I'm sort of hoping that if it is, its in terms of ease of writing and not in quality. 

Anyway, here is your tidbit:

“Don’t worry I said.  We’re almost there… Just around this tree.”

Samantha rubbed her eyes, “Almost where?”  And it was hard not to keep the annoyance out of her words.

“Right here.”

Coming around the large tree she found herself entering a huge clearing.  The canopy of golden boughs broke to reveal the clear blue sky above and the ground was green with fresh grass as if it was spring and it wanted to show off its brightest color.  A wide circle of great big stones, the surface smooth where there weren’t great swirling patterns carved in, ringed the clearing, like a giant had placed them there.  The stones were about ten feet across and at least 20 feet high, fingers pointing to the sky above and they gave off the feeling of being ancient. 

Writing Day 21

Words 1692
Total 37,965

I can honestly say, today was one of those days that I didn't feel like writing.  Not because I didn't know what to write, but I was just feeling bleh about doing it.  Obviously, I did write, or else I'd have to answer to all of you about not having done my work today!  That's partly why I do this blog every other day, so that I have to answer to someone rather than just depend on myself to keep up on it.  I do better when I'm accountable to people other than myself.

So whenever I get bleh, I just think, "Ugh... people following this blog are going to be all, 'what the hell!' and I don't want to deal with that."  Which works well enough to get me to sit down and type.  And I have gifs like this one to keep me at my writing:

I cannot refuse Sherlock.

While the goal is 50,000 words, I know I am going to be well over that because I can see my progress along the chart and I know there is more to come than what I can see will happen.  I'm following the course laid out by the kit's book - we're not supposed to look ahead so I'm being good and not doing that.  I'm a sucker for following instructions.  Its my backup plan in case things go wrong or don't work, because then I can say, "I did exactly what it told me to do!"  It works well when putting furniture together too.

Anyway...

Here is today's snippet:

They found a place to park and got out into air that was crisp and beneath leaves that were hues of gold with ground that was a carpet of fire tones.  It was beautiful and Samantha felt a sense of renewal go through her as she took in a deep breath of fresh air with a lingering smell of fresh earth that made her think of days waiting for the school bus when she was little.  Autumn was always a time of new beginnings to her.  It was when the new school year would start and when the Jewish New Year would fall, so it held more of a promise of days to come than New Year’s eve.

Foxglove happily trotted about, sniffing everything she could and then peeing on it shortly thereafter to mark it as her territory.  While Gabe walked her around, Steve and Samantha took out water bottles and some cereal bars to eat.  She would have loved some coffee, but this would have to do.  “This was a great idea,” she said between bites.

He grinned, “I’m smarter than I look.”

Writing Day 19

2077 Words
34156 Total

I am going to have the face the music that I don't know if I have a climax for this book.  I don't know if I should be worrying about that right now, but the fear that this is all going to meander is gnawing at me.  I don't have a definite way for this all to end and that is the biggest issue for me right now.  I keep thinking it will come to me.

I suppose I should have faith.  I've come this far and things are popping up in my head. 

There are pages of notes of changes I'll make after I finish writing this first draft and the challenge is to keep them in mind as I write without making all the edits now - and to not go back and make the changes.  Keeping myself moving forward is forcing me to make some decisions off the cuff and some of them work and some are noted to be edited later. 

When I'm not writing, I definitely feel like I should be, but I worry that its a distraction from other things I should be doing.  This has been an issue with my art as well.  Doing art hasn't felt... good a lot of the times, because I've felt guilty indulging in it, even though I used to love it so much.  Doing it made me feel bad because I should have been working or looking for work or doing something more... adult or more what I am 'supposed to be doing'.  I am still looking for work, but there is only so much you can actually do and I want to finish this book.  I don't know if it will come together to be something to be published, but it would be an accomplishment and I think I need that.  

So when I get down on myself, I push that aside and keep plugging away.  And if I feel guilty, I'll just say to myself, "Mr. Gaiman made me do it!"

Okay... on to today's snippet:

“No.” she smirked then heard her phone buzzing.  Taking it out of the bag at her feet she lifted it up in the dark car to see what it was.  The face lit up and there was a text message notification.  Clicking open the message app she saw a single question, 

“Where are you?”

 Her brows knit.  She didn’t recognize the sender.  “Steve do you know Int3rn3tz with threes instead of e’s?”  They did have some mutual friends so it might be someone she met through him and wasn’t recognizing right away.

The phone buzzed again. 

“Where are you?” 

“Nope…” he answered as he passed a car.

“Gabe…?” She called over to the back seats, “Do you know anyone called Int3rn3tz?” Samantha didn’t give her number out to anyone unless she met them more than once, so there was no way they could have her number otherwise. “Spelled using threes instead of e’s.”

The cell vibrated with its notification. 

“Where are you?” 

Gabe frowned and shook his head, “No one I know.” 

Anubis sat up, “Who?”

“Int3rn3tz.”  



“Shit, shut it down!  Turn off the fucking phone!”

“What, why?” She asked as she frantically tried to grasp it to hit the power button as the phone buzzed again.

“Where are you?”

Writing Day 17

2070 Words
32079 Total

I'm supposed to try to hit 40,000 words by the end of this week. It seems a bit harder to try for 2000 words each time I sit to write because where things naturally feel like a good end are being changed or things are being added.  This could be a good thing because its keeping me on my toes and thinking. 

I am wondering about character development a bit now.  I don't know if these are characters other people would care about... and I wonder if my ideas are original enough.  I mean, its hard to be 100% original with so many books and stories out there, but I would hate to think of this as being derivative of something else.  And I'm constantly in a state of "This sounded better in my head."  The great turns of phrase that I imagine, never seem to be exactly as great as I hoped they were when they are written down.

I suppose that is another normal aspect of writing though...  Is any writing as great as the writer imagined it to be before they got it down on paper.

Oh well.. Just gotta keep writing!

Here is this weeks excerpt for you...  Though I do have to ask:  Are you intrigued by what I've been writing?  Does this sound at all interesting?  Do you want to know more?  Let me know! 

They rode in silence for the most part, the radio on with local news reporting the incident in downtown Aerontown.  She wanted to tell Steve to shut it off, that it was making her feel horrible, but she felt like it was what she deserved.  She should feel like shit for everything that happened.  It was her fault after all. 

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat, resting her forehead against the glass window as the world passed by.  Her whole body ached and her palms burned from the sidewalk rash she got when she fell before and her knees hurt.  She hadn't taken the time to wash up or check herself for any bleeding or wounds when she had been up in the apartment, but she didn't care.  It was another penance to serve.  If she'd listened and not gone to work, then no one would have been hurt and businesses wouldn't have been destroyed.  Aerontown wouldn't have nearly gotten blown off the map.  The least she could do was bleed a little.

Writing Day 15

1290 Words
27,159 Total

Starting Week Three!  Still have a lot of questions to answer...  I've already made a ton of notes of things to remember when I go back and edit it - things that have to be changed or items to be added - so I don't forget them later on.  I'm feeling good about where things are going and trying not to concentrate too much on where its all leading to.  I'm sure it will work itself out in the writing. 

Sometimes the writing feels good and I feel like I have my voice in it and other times, I definitely feel like I'm just putting words in there till the next bit.  Its up and down a lot.  I haven't had any characters 'speak' to me yet or change where I'm sending them which could be good or bad.  It might be good, because it means everyone is going in the right direction, or it might be bad because they aren't good characters and don't have anything to say.  Of course, I could be over thinking it all, which is a bad habit of mine.  It won't change how I handle this though - still going to just keep typing away...

And that's probably the best way for me to handle all of this.  If I just keep writing and don't think, then the chances of it getting all down on paper are a lot greater.  Previous times I've started writing something, then went back and read it and rewrote it and edited it and never moved forward.  I got stuck in the beginning and trying to make that perfect before getting to the end.  This is actually helping because I just keep writing and I know it will all be finished and I will still be able to go back and make changes.  While I wish I had done this sooner, I am glad I'm doing it now. 

Anyway, here is your excerpt for today:

She was dreading going to work, but at the same time, looking forward to it.  One, it would get her out of the house and two, it would give her something else to focus on instead of herself and everything over the weekend.  And yes, she was able to call it what it was: avoidance.  No doubts about that.  Going to work was the equivalent of sticking her fingers in her ears, closing her eyes and singing "LALALALA!" at the top of her lungs.  It was childish, probably a bad idea and wouldn't really solve anything, but she wasn't trying to answer any questions first thing Monday morning.  She wanted to do something boring and to pretend that everything was perfectly normal, nothing to see here, everyone move along.  Besides, what she had said last night wasn't a lie.  There were still bills to pay and food to buy and that wouldn't go away just because she happened to be in the middle of some world changing crisis. 

Writing Day 13

Words: 1920
Total: 23,883

Thirteen is supposed to be unlucky, but I'm feeling pretty good.  As I said last time, I feel like I'm heading up the hill and getting to the point where the excitement should start.  I have a lot of ideas and now trying to integrate them is the challenge.  I'm also wondering how much of the 'reveals' I've had would be a surprise to anyone.  I mean, they seem obvious to me, but then, I know the truth so its hard to know how they are going to read to an outside audience.  I'm also not sure about the pacing, but I'm not worried too much about that right now.

Neil Gaiman, the man behind that hand!

At this point, I'm just following the process as I've been instructed to by the book and just writing.  Its interesting to me where certain things are coming in and where influences are happening.  I know I am influenced by Neil Gaiman who is my favorite writer - there is such a great ease to his words, an effortlessness that makes his work a joy to read.  I am also apparently bringing in some Japanese horror manga...  Which might be apparent to those that read the excerpt I've put in today.

But part of that is being creative.  We take in the world around us and we interpret what we experience.  I'm feeling a little better about writing, but I really don't know if what I'm writing is worth anything... which probably makes me a writer... right?  Well, anyway, here is today's excerpt for your enjoyment:

Over her shoulder in the mirror, she noticed one of the stall doors open and a woman came out.  She hadn't realized anyone had been in the bathroom besides her and she hoped the woman hadn't heard her talking to herself.  With long hair covering her face, it was hard to know what the lady heard or showed signs of hearing so Samantha tossed the paper towel into the hole cut in the counter top and turned to leave.  That was when she was suddenly five feet from where she had been standing and slammed into the wall.

The air was thrust out of her lungs, leaving her heaving and fish gaping desperately while through the blurriness of her vision she made out the dark from of the woman. What the hell…? Was she being mugged?  "…Please--" she coughed out, noticing that her feet weren't touching the ground.  The woman's hands were against Samantha's chest, holding her in place and pressing against her.  In no time, those hands would crack her ribs and then kill her as her heart and lungs were pierced and crushed.  The long hair now looked lanky and stringy, like it had been dipped in oil and as her face moved closer, Samantha saw pits where her eyes should have been in a corroded face.  The scream that should have formed was lost with the air she was desperate for and she shoved her hands at her attacker.  Beneath her palms was the initial solid form of a body, but then it gave… Her hands were being soaked into the greasy flesh.