Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today’s Word Count: 939 words, 39.8k total

Excerpt:
Torture. Though now that he was older—wiser—that word didn’t carry the same import that it used to. He had learned to see good between those letters, to look through that dangerous, barbed fence and see the fertile gardens beyond. But, to his surprise, Chris’ plea had pricked him–and that wound, long thought to have been scabbed over, began to bleed again.

“Yes,” he said finally. “They do seem to scream a bit.” He gently lifted Chris’ arm from his and sat down in his chair. It squeaked pleasingly—a warm and familiar greeting. “Okay, Chris. You talk to him.”

Things are going well. Mashed up a lot of old scenes with new stuff, thus the inflated word count. Writing a story does get kind of fun from time to time, doesn’t it?

I'm in the process of moving this blog to wordpress, which is just so much cooler than blogger. I'll let you know the new address--in due time (not that anyone is actually reading this, mind you).

Onward!

Novel Stats

Today's Word Count: 392 words, 37.7k total

Excerpt:
Dr. Weiss sat without moving in his dimly lighted office. Actually, this was his secondary office; what he liked to call his “war room.” There was the office above ground, the one with the books and the expensive chairs and the impressive bay windows staring off into the plains. But he used it only rarely. Whenever he had to make an appearance, he would send the cleaning crew up first. That way, he wouldn’t have to blow the dust off his chair before he sat down.

I've been messing around with Wordpress, another blog solution. Maybe I'll switch. It has been pretty cool so far. Lots of customizability (is that a word? MS Word said it was, but Firefox's built in spell checker says it isn't). We Americans like that.

Onward!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 559 words, 37.2k total

Excerpt:
Daniel stared at him, open-mouthed. What had he felt that day, that moment, when the blows were coming down as from the fists of the gods? Though everything else was a vague blur, like looking through a rain-streaked window, that day remained startlingly fresh and clear. The dust filling his nose as he lay on the ground; the glass from the scale’s shattered face falling like rain upon him.

Moving right along. Speaking of moving: March 10th is the date of our fateful departure from Grass Valley, our home for the last two years, to Sebastopol. Grass Valley saw fit to give us a nice sendoff: a few good days of snow. I enjoy snow very much--as long as it melts after a few days.
Onward!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 387 words, 36.5k total

Excerpt:
Daniel closed his eyes tightly and focused on something else, anything else. The carnival came quickly to his mind, and why wouldn’t it? It had been his home. He concentrated on the lights and the noises; they washed over him, as familiar and comforting as a lullaby. The high-pitched screams of delight, the childish laughter. Bells and whistles, sirens and dancing lights flashing, seizure-inducing excess. The warm smell of popcorn, sailing to him across oceans of grease and dripping caramel. There, someone was spooling cotton candy around their finger. Here, two lovers were locked in a sugary kiss.

The beat goes on. Had to cut some of an old sequence, but made up for it with a new one. Trying to move the story forward. New threads are slowly forming.
Onward!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 972 words, 36.1k total

Excerpt:
“There anything I can do to help?”
The man looked past him and inclined his head. “Your car. What model is that?”
“It’s a Toyota. But I’ve forgotten the model name. Some cloud formation. Cumulus, Nimbus.” The man leered at him. Timothy felt like he had failed a small yet important test of his own manhood. “It’s a rental,” he finished sheepishly.
“That right,” the man remarked. He looked at Timothy from the soles of his feet on up, like he was sizing him. Timothy shifted on his feet. This man could certainly do him no harm—but his heart thumped in his chest just the same.

Things are going okay. Finished my past scene, a character building one, and pasted it on in. It looks good in there--it was much too short to begin with. *Sigh* I suppose at some point I should get back to advancing the story...

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 639 Words

Excerpt:
The man watched him approach, a cold look on his face. The woman had retreated back inside the car and shut the door. He glanced in as he passed by. She was looking steadily ahead, her fingers crawling in her lap like spiders. He looked ahead and fixed a smile to his lips.
“Car trouble?”
Blue jeans man scratched under his chin and batted his eyes, as if to say, you figured that one out, eh genius? Timothy felt the slightest tinge of anger slip into his heart like a thin, poisoned dagger. His smile fell a few notches. Blue jeans man said nothing. He was wringing the rag (which was actually just his shirt, Timothy could see now) like he was trying to rid it of water.

I'm filling out a character, and thus filling out an old scene that was originally about a page long. Hopefully, it will be larger and more revealing by the time I'm done with it. I like visiting the past. Sometimes, it gives me direction for the future.
Over and Out!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 617 words, 34.5k total

Excerpt:
“Daniel…do you know how you got here?”
He shook his head in reply. No, he hadn’t thought of how he had come here. Daniel had been fighting to figure out where “here” was. But then it came to him, sharp and clear, like a ray of sun piercing the clouds. He wasn’t sure he could do it, but after a brief struggle, he lifted his arms up and out. They shook violently with the effort, like he was holding invisible paint cans. He flapped them in the air, once, twice, and then he let them fall to the ground.
“You flew here?”
An old joke, planted in some dark, hidden field of his mind, came plowing its way to the surface. “And boy, are my arms tired.”

Well, things are going okay. I'm still in my Stephen King induced inspirational mode, so hopefully that continues for a while. I've found another trap that I'll have to dodge: overusing metaphors. Today, it seemed I wanted to end every sentence with "like this" or "just like that" or "as if".
I enjoy metaphors, I really do, like a wino enjoys wine. They are a good thing, I just don't want to overuse them; like a woman might wear too much makeup.
Anyway...
Onward!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 500 words, 33.9k total

Excerpt:
The man stretched back to his feet, and Daniel caught a flash of light, a daggered reflection, from the man’s coat pocket. Glasses. Like before. A doctor.
Dr. Weiss.
The name came to him like a whisper on the air. A voice, just to his left. He whipped his head to the side but his chin fell helplessly to his chest. A new wave of dizziness swept over him. The man, Dr. Weiss, leaned into his colleague. They conversed quietly. Daniel strained to listen; his ears itched madly, as if someone was tickling them with a feather.

Stayed up too late last night. A friend from Oregon is in town. I'm actually surprised I was able to write anything today. Feeling good about my voice now--though I'm afraid I'm quickly becoming a Stephen King clone.
Onward!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 979 words, 33.4k total

Excerpt:
“Ed?” Martha spoke suddenly, and both he and the nurse jumped. He got to his feet shakily, both hands grasping the bed railing. Martha was moving her head slowly from side to side, her mouth laying open shapelessly. Air escaped through her clenched teeth with a sound like a rattle.
“Martha? Oh, Martha, don’t speak.” He looked desperately at the nurse. “Can you do something?”
She mashed the call button, opened the nightstand drawer, and began to paw through it. “We can make her comfortable.”
Another nurse came in, holding a syringe. She handed it to the nurse standing beside the bed and she inserted the needle into the tube leading to Martha’s arm. Her pathetic thrashings subsided. The guttural noise died slowly in her throat. It sounded like removing a steaming tea kettle from the burner.

Ok Levi--you were right.
I posted yesterday about how, upon Levi's advice, I read an excerpt from an author before I began writing in an effort to inspire. I said yesterday that rather than inspire me, it depressed me, seeing how many leagues away I was from the supreme talent of a published author.
But now I am inspired. I guess for me it takes a day or two to sink in.
I've realized that I don't really have a voice of my own--no one writes in a vacuum. And that's a good thing.

Onward!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 380 words, 32k total

Excerpt:
“She’s got to eat, Mr. Workman. Keep her strength up.”
Ed sighed, a long expense of breath. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The nurse drummed on the tray with her knuckles. Ed looked up at her for the first time. She was pretty, brown hair tucked neatly under a knitted wool cap, makeup applied sparingly to her eyes and lashes, smile lines etched in from years of use. She saw that he was looking at him and spoke up nervously.

Well I went with Levi's suggestion and read a little bit of my favorite author, Stephen King, for some artistic inspiration before I sat down to write.
It didn't inspire me. It depressed me.
What an amazing craftsman he is! I was looking through one of his earliest published works, Carrie. Even then, at that tender age (I think he was still a teenager), he had incredible skill and polish.
After reading through a few pages, I wanted to print out my own story simply to burn it, hang it in effigy, throw it into a river.
Maybe that was an overreaction. But man, is that guy good.
Till next time.

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 880 words, 31.9k total

Excerpt:
The hallway was a marked departure from the cramped familiarity of the storage room. Cold metal walls stretched off to either side of him; there were no markings, no decorations. His breathing echoed hollowly down the faceless corridors. Alien as it seemed, it was also familiar—he knew where he had seen this before.
She was here. Her voice stalked through his mind, and he shivered, caught with a sudden chill.
Help me.


Things are progressing quite smoothly indeed. I'm sure my next roadblock is just around the corner. Until then, however...
Onward!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 870 words, 31k total

Excerpt:
Jason saw the carnage behind them, the bodies strewn about, the injured cries, and the stirring began within him. He cried out and shoved his fist into his stomach. Not now, not now! he thought desperately. But he was overtaken—wounds spread suddenly on his face and arms like an allergic reaction. The man in front of him stopped and stared with his mouth open. Jason tried to speak but fell to the floor. The man moved to step over him but Jason was able to reach out a weak arm and grab the man by the leg. He looked up, opening and closing his mouth, trying to speak through the roaring pain inside him.


So how was it that I only wrote 870 words, but managed to gain 2,000 words in my total word count? Well, I'll tell you. I had already sketched out a few scenes, and now I'm finally catching up to those scenes. So my writing today butted up to the scenes I'd already written. I love huge jumps in word count without breaking a sweat!

Onward!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 932 words, 29k total

Excerpt:
Starla collapsed into sobs. She had been chosen for this task, chosen for a reason. But she had never expected feeling so alone, so cut off. Then she remembered the man in the woods, his outstretched hand—seeming like miles away—his cautious yet hopeful smile. For the first time throughout her long journey she had felt hope. But now he too had abandoned her.

Finally got back on the ol' writing horse today. It seems like once I make myself concentrate and write I actually enjoy it. It's the anticipation that kills you.
My favorite Super Bowl Ad:
The one where the GPS man goes head to head with the Map Monster. That was classic. I think each one of us can appreciate an ad like that--if only because we know how much we'd like to stomp around on a miniaturized city.

Onward!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 440 words, 28.1k total

Excerpt:
A two-way mirror covered the wall to her left—probably a requisite for rooms such as these. That thought brought a smile to her lips; though, when she had first been escorted in, the mirror, and the reflection she had seen within, had frightened her. Some time had passed since she had last seen herself. Her hair had grown long, down to her waist, and she had lost an alarming amount of weight. Dirt and sweat had completely overwhelmed her clothing—their original color had long been lost.

Boy, I was just reading over that again. Isn't there an unusual amount of "had's" in that paragraph? And this what I choose to post as an excerpt? Gah!

Ah well. Onward!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 1,000 words, 27.6k total

Excerpt:
Though, if the preliminary reports were correct, they had sent him for nothing. If Nicolas were dead (and looking at the charred remains of the forest, Dr. Weiss knew that he most certainly was), he was no longer a threat. And that was a huge relief, for them and for Dr. Weiss. Now, finally, Nicolas would submit to his tests, his true work. Dr. Weiss had always been skeptical of psychoanalysis—talking would never tell you how this man could do what he could do. Now the real science, the real learning, could begin.
He was giddy just thinking about it.

Any Other Thoughts, Simon?
Moving right along. I created a new scene today, completely arbitrarily, simply because I need to revisit certain characters to ensure that nobody forgets them. But that introduces another dilemma: by the time one of my characters completes a five hour trip, a whole lot has to happen. It's all about timing.

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 674 words, 26.5k total

Excerpt:
Nothing but breathing on the line. Then, “Your daughter is turning 14. And I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve been there on her birthday.”
His heart began to speed within him. “Now that’s not fair, it’s not as simple as that…”
“Just come home soon.” Her voice was tired, as if this conversation had gone exactly as she thought it would. That thought saddened him, and his voice softened.
“I’ll be home soon.”
“Promise.”
“I’ll be home soon,” he repeated.
She sighed. “Goodbye, Jonas.”

It's me again!
Well, among other things, I've been writing this past week. I'm trying to sort out the mess that is my plot. What a tangled web we weave.

Onward!

Novel Stats

Uncanny

Today's Word Count: 340 Words, 25.9k total

Excerpt:
Nicolas put his hands on the glass and leaned in. “It was a mistake bringing me back here.”
“Well, we’ve been working on some…improvements…since you left. We’re hoping that this time you stay put, Nicolas.”
Nicolas nodded. The cold, the glass—they were meant to subdue him, render him feeble and powerless. But he was beyond that now. Nothing could hold him; not even death itself.
“You’ve made a huge mistake,” Nicolas said.

Well, since Levi harassed me in my previous post, I've gone ahead and posted something today. Getting off vacation mode and into work mode has been very difficult for me. Hopefully this week I can get more in the groove. I was able to edit a bit yesterday, and write a bit today, so things are looking up.

Onward!