Down to the Wire

Short Fiction - 0
Long Fiction - a lot
Poetry - 0
Total Words -
Paragraphs of Notes - 0

I have really, really been struggling with this NaNo. As you might have guessed by the lack of posting last Monday. Had I a lick of sense I would have quit while I was ahead and moved on to something else. I did that one year, seven days and 10,000 words in and I went with a totally different story and still won.

It’s not that I don’t like my story, I just have zero interest in working on it. Last Monday I was a mere 6,000 words behind, today I’m...uh... something like 13,700 behind. Which was better than it was going into the weekend when I was close to 20,000 behind.

I have to admit, when I decided to do NaNo this year I did not anticipate the toll babysitting has been taking on me. It’s not just the time spent babysitting, it’s the fact that the grandbaby is an energy vampire. A few hours with her and I’m exhausted. Plus there’s been some extra babysitting thrown in for good measure.

So between the lack of interest and the babysitting, there’s a very good chance I won’t finish NaNo on time this year. First year since my first time that I’ll be participating and not finishing.

If I do finish on time, it’ll be thanks to the writer’s best friend, my Alphasmart Neo. Saturday I sat in my office for about seven hours working on my lap top and only managed a measly 888 words. Then I switched to my Neo and did close to 600 more in just a couple of hours.

Yesterday I sat in the living room for a couple hours here, a couple hours there, and wrote just over 4,000 words. Kinda wished I’d been working on the Neo exclusively Saturday too.

The reason I write faster on the Neo is there are no distractions, no bells and whistles, just words. At the end of the day I just sit back, plug my Neo into my lap top, and watch the words appear in a Word document file. Can’t get much simpler than that, and when it comes to writing, simple is better.

So keep your eye on the little widget on the right. 3500 words a day to finish isn’t too much to ask, is it?

And do yourself a favour, go to ebay and buy yourself a Neo - they stopped making them a few years ago so the only way you can get one is used.

Alphasmart Neo. Don’t do NaNo without one.

Oh, No, What Happened to My NaNo?

I’m gonna be honest here, it’s not looking good for me to finish NaNoWriMo on time. I have seven days to write 20,000 words. And given that all I’ve been able to manage during the week is 500 a day.... Well, I still have the weekend ahead, and I’ve been known to pull a few miracles off in the name of NaNo in the past, so I guess we’ll just have to see.

The thing is, I’m just not feeling it with this novel. I like the characters and it’s not a bad story, I just don’t feel like writing it. At some point, when I feel ready to move forward with this series, I’ll have to sit down and create a guide to the Myste, which plays a major part in the whole story line. But for now all I can do is make it up as I go along.

So for this week’s excerpt, I give you Nathan trying to explain to Sara about the Myste that’s surrounding them:

Excerpt

“Time doesn’t work the same when you pass through the Myste.”

Sara finally reached her limit. “All right, you’ve pussy-footed around the subject long enough. Tell my about this...Myste.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There’s been debate for centuries over whether the Myste is naturally occurring or it was somehow created. It spans both time and space. Some worlds it only touches temporarily, some worlds have permanent access points to it. As near as I can figure, you and your friend Hannah entered the Myste through a temporary access point and it was only through sheer luck that you entered at different times but ended up in the same place.”

As she tried to process this, he tried a different tact. “When Madalyn was explaining the Myste to Hannah she asked if there were any stories where you come from of people who have been lost in the fog and when they’re found only hours or days have passed for them but years have passed for those left behind?”

“Sure, Irish folklore is filled with stories of people who’ve stepped into the land of fairy.”

“Only it’s not a fairy tale, it’s real.”

She stared at him, eyes narrowed, and he continued. “Islands like this can be found in the Myste, but are not part of the Myste itself. They’re like sanctuaries. One of the reasons for the expedition was to try and map the islands - I have no idea why, unless it’s to make it easier to travel from world to world. Right now it takes special equipment to make this possible, and even then it’s chancy at best.”

“Why would it be chancy?” Sara asked, in spite of herself. “I mean, other than the generally poor visibility. If this Myste spans worlds, like you say, I’d think people would be lining up to go world hopping.”

“Just being in the Myste is dangerous - breathing it in can cause lung damage, and if it changes colour even a breather won’t help you. *this would be a really good place for the Myste poem that I will have to re-write*

“We were breathing the Myste in,” Sara pointed out. “But we seem to be okay.”

He sighed heavily. “Look, I know you have no reason to believe me but I have no reason to lie to you.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and then turned away to watch the Myste.

“I probably wouldn’t believe me either,” Nathan admitted.

“Are we safe here?” she asked with a shiver.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Probably.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“No, but at least it’s honest.” He hesitated, then said, “We need to figure out what we’re going to do.”

“Do? Isn’t that obvious?” Sara asked, a little surprised. “We need to go back the way we came. Or better yet, we go to wherever the others went and then Hannah and I can go home together.”

Nathan drew back and looked at her askance. “You can’t seriously think it’s that simple! Haven’t you been listening to me?” He got up and began to pace. “Getting back to your world is impossible - the access point you passed through was temporary.”

Sara felt her first real chill of fear. “Then I guess we go back to where you came from. Surely there’s someone there who can–”

He was already shaking his head. “That’s really a long shot at best. We–”

“Then we just wait here to be rescued,” she said a little desperately. “Someone will have to come back for the equipment at least right?”

“Sara.” Nathan stopped pacing and came back over to the bench. Sitting down again he took her hands in his. “I’m not going to sugar coat this. The chances of anyone coming back here before we run out of food and water are pretty slim. We’re going to have to take our chances out there.” He waved a hand towards the Myste.

Back on Track

And by back on track I mean I’m behind by about 5,000 words. LOL

But never fear, the weekend is soon to be upon us and I have no doubt I’ll be able to make up at least a few of those words.

So last week’s excerpt was the first meeting of my main characters Nathan and Sara, this one is kind of a continuation of that.


Excerpt

They were surrounded by dense whiteness. It was like walking in the center of a cloud. No up or down, no beginning and no end. It was like they were weightless. An intense feeling of vertigo washed over her and Sara stumbled, nearly dropping her hold on Nathan. He was leaning more and more of his weight on her. If he passed out completely she didn’t know what she’d do.

Time started to lose all meaning. It felt like they’d been scuffling along for hours, even though it was probably only minutes. And was it just her imagination or was it getting lighter up ahead? No, not lighter but the fog was definitely thinning.

“Come on, Nathan, we’re almost out of it.”

It was just barely possible to make out the shapes of trees and brush now. The fog eddied and swirled and soon parted to reveal a path. The path itself was even more frightening than the fog. It was a dirt track, strewn with rubble, cutting a path through the gloom. She and Hannah had walked to town from the house many times and she knew for a fact there was no path like it anywhere around here. So where were they? Had she somehow taken a wrong turn? It just didn’t seem possible.

Sara shivered without realizing it. Her mind kept insisting the fog wasn’t natural. It flowed just beyond the path as though there was an invisible wall keeping it at bay. Where were they? Certainly not in the woods near the causeway. What was happening? Maybe she took a blow to the head when she hit the brakes in her car.

“Left,” Nathan whispered. “The camp.”

Okay, don’t let the fear become paralyzing. She tightened her grip on her victim and they staggered off to the left, following the path. Sara grew more afraid with every passing moment. She kept expecting the fog to break through the invisible barrier and consume them. They’d be lost forever. But the question that kept tormenting her was, where were they?

Just when her own strength began to fail the path opened up into a clearing. There were several tents and a couple of long tables, and every sign that people had been here, but the camp was deserted. Sara dragged Nathan to the nearest tent and eased him down on the cot inside. He never made a sound and she sank to the floor to rest. After several minutes she caught her breath and turned around to get her first good look at Nathan.

“Oh, my!” She all but licked her lips in appreciation.

She estimated he’d top her by several inches when he was standing, instead of leaning on her. His smooth skin was a golden bronze and he wore his jet black hair long, braided in hundreds of tiny braids. High cheekbones graced a strong face and dark lashes swept down from his closed eyes.

“Okay, get a grip girl,” she muttered. “You’ve seen gorgeous men before.”

He didn’t look badly hurt, from what she could tell he looked in damn fine shape. She noticed a smear of blood and gently ran her hands along the sides of his head. Lifting his head slightly she felt the back of it and her hand came away bloody. She frowned. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he’d been hit on the back of the head with something. There was no way she could have done that with her car.

Sara sat back on her heels. Now what? She really should see if there was something she could do for his head wound, but she suddenly felt exhausted. There was another cot in the tent and she sank down onto it gratefully. Maybe all she needed was a good night’s sleep and when she woke in the morning she’d discover this had all been a product of too many margaritas and too much raw cookie dough afterwards.

Just Nanoing Along

Short Fiction - 0
Long Fiction - 9397
Poetry - 0
Total Words -
Paragraphs of Notes - 3

Last week’s total included 1600 words I’d written on Wandering Wizards, but this week’s total is all NaNo words. For those of you keeping track, I’m about 3,000 words behind at this point, which really isn’t bad. While I have every confidence I’ll be able to catch up, I’m not going to stress about it if I don’t.

I’m very close to being able to work at my new desk in my reclaimed office. There’s still several boxes scattered around, but they’re mostly empty. Well, except for the stack in the corner that’s waiting for a trip to one of the thrift stores.

One of the most time-consuming parts of working in the office last week was trying to figure out what stuff goes in what drawer of the desk. If I thought figuring out what files to keep close was bad, it was nothing compared to all my little stuff - pens, paperclips, knick knacks, markers, USB keys, and all the other myriad things I kept in my desk drawers and the upper drawers in my filing cabinets.

Which reminds me...I think I’m still missing a box of “stuff” that needs to be relocated. Specifically, the stuff that was in the bottom drawer of my other desk - a bunch of fancy notebooks and stacks of CDs and DVDs. And didn’t I have a small first aid kit in one of the drawers? Nuts! Guess I’d better take another look around.

Despite ending up with more drawer space, it was still hard to decide what should go in what drawer. Two of the drawers have lift out inserts - one that’s easy to get at, one a little more difficult. So then there was the question of what should go in the upper part and what goes in the lower. And you want to be logical about it so you can find stuff again.

I guess this is something that will be ongoing for awhile. The main thing is to get my desk cleared off so I can use it. And find a new chair to sit in. I was using the secretary’s chair that the hubby was using, but it’s old and squeeky and way too low (you can adjust it, but it will slowly sink down again). So I swapped it for the executive chair from the other room and it’s really too big. Just like Goldilocks, I need one that’s just right. :-D

So...which do you think I’ll finish first? My NaNo novel or the Great Office Shuffle?

Place your bets now.

NaNo Madness!

Well, I’ve got ten days of NaNo under my belt and much to my great surprise I’m only a little off track. Be still my heart! And I only really fell behind last night, but if you knew the kind of day I had yesterday you’d understand. My luck wasn’t just bad, it was abysmal!

But enough of that.

Remember how I said how quickly some people are able to finish the NaNo challenge? Congratulations to C.L. Hannah (aka Kittster), whose had a couple of stories featured here. Not only has she already completed 50,000 words, she’s still going. At the typing at this post, her word count is 54,357 and she’s still going strong.

Wow. I was scrolling back through my last few weeks’ worth of posts and I realize that with all my talk about NaNoWriMo, apparently I haven’t really talked about my novel for this year. My very first NaNo novel was finished at 35,000 words. But while I didn’t complete the challenge with it, it did spawn ideas for two sequels and one prequel. My novel this year is the first sequel.

I got the idea for the original novel, Driving Into Forever, one day when I was driving to pick my daughter up from Queen’s University in Kingston. Despite it being February, there was a heavy fog. I LOVE driving in the fog, it’s like driving into forever (hence the title), and I started thinking, what if the fog was a gateway to another dimension? In my novel, the fog became the Myste, a phenomena that spanned space and time and many worlds. My main character, Hannah, unknowingly entered the Myste and there her adventures began.

She left her best friend Sara behind, and I decided Sara deserved a story of her own. Seeing as Hannah found romance, it was only logical that Sara find it too, and who better to hook her up with than Nathaniel, another minor character who disappears partway through the first book?

Turns out that Sara is a worrier. So when a significant amount of time passes and she doesn’t get a phone call from Hannah telling her she got home safely, she sets off to find her. What she finds instead is Nathaniel, who had met with foul play in the Myste.

Excerpt from Lost and Found

The fog began to thicken as Sara turned off the highway onto the road that wound through the woods to the causeway. Unlike Hannah, she’d never liked being out in the fog, it creeped her out. It was at times like this she appreciated her Cadillac El Dorado. It may be a gas guzzler but it would stand up to anything the fog could throw at her.

She could barely see the road but she was afraid to slow down, you never knew what might be lurking in the fog. Every horror movie Sara had ever seen flashed through her mind. The road was in good repair and she’d been down it often enough to be familiar with it. It led pretty much straight to the causeway, which lead straight to the island Hannah lived on. It was probably just an illusion because of the fog, but it seemed to go on forever.

A dark shape loomed up suddenly in front of her. “Holy crap!” Sara slammed on the brakes and yanked the steering wheel hard to the right. The big car jerked to a halt and she sat there, clutching the steering wheel and gasping.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” Did she hit whatever, or whoever that was? She should go check. Really she should. Just as soon as she could make herself let go of the steering wheel. They might be hurt. It might even have been Hannah. That ratty old Jeep she drove might have broken down and she could have been walking along the road, on her way home.

That thought was enough to make her release her death grip on the steering wheel and scramble out of the car. The fog was so thick she could barely see but she had a vague idea of where the road was. She shuffled forward slowly, hands out in front of her to ward off anything she might run into.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

She’d always thought fog was supposed to amplify sound, this fog was so thick it seemed to muffle it.

“Are you all right? Hannah?”

Was that a groan off in that direction? Sara followed the sound. Her foot struck something soft. This time there was definitely a groan.

“Oh jeez!”

She hunkered down and could barely make out a dark form on the ground.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” Frantically she ran her hands over the body, trying to determine if there were any serious injuries.

“I am so sorry! You just appeared out of nowhere. I know I was probably going a little too fast, you know, considering the fog and all, but oh my God what are you doing out here in the middle of the road anyway? Didn’t you have enough sense to move out of the way when you heard my car coming?” She couldn’t seem to stop babbling.

The body started to rise under her questing hands.

“Are you sure you ought to do that? Maybe you should just stay put until we’re sure you’re all right. Is there someone I could call for you?” She patted her pockets. “Oh, damn! I must have left my cell phone at home. Do you have a cell phone? Is there someone I could call for you? Although maybe it’s not such a good idea to have someone else risk coming out in this fog. Oh well, it shouldn’t be too far to my friend Hannah’s house. We can use her phone. Wow, you are a tall one, aren’t you? Let me help you to my car.”

So far her victim hadn’t managed to say a word. Sara couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. All she could tell through the dense fog was that he was a man, a tall man, and he felt pretty solidly built under her helping hands. He moved slowly, carefully, with her towards the car. Or least towards where she thought the car should be.

After a few minutes she halted them. Sara bit her lower lip and glanced around. “I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but I think we missed the car in this fog.”

The man mumbled something.

“What did you say?”

“Not fog, Myste.” His voice was strained.

“Well, whatever you want to call it it’s as thick as pea soup. I’m telling you, I’ve never seen a fog this thick in all my life.”

“Got to keep moving,” the nameless man told her. She had to strain to hear him. “Not safe.”

“Not safe? I don’t know about that, but I do know that it can’t be far to my friend Hannah’s house.” She carefully turned them around.

“Not there.”

“What’s not there?” Sara asked absently. She tried to concentrate on where they were going. Where was that road?

“Hannah,” he said with a great deal of effort. “Not there, she’s with Kelvin.”

“Kelvin?” Sara stopped and turned to him. “ Who’s Kelvin? You’re a friend of Hannah’s?” She peered closer at him but his features were still indistinct. “Who are you?”

“Nathan,” he answered.

She sighed in frustration. “Okay Nathan. Save your strength. We can talk once we’re out of this damned fog.”

He didn’t answer and she got the feeling he was too busy concentrating on staying upright. She had a bad feeling about this whole situation. There was something unnatural about this fog, it was giving her a real bad case of the heebie-jeebies. Worse than fog usually did.

Always

With Remembrance Day just around the corner, this week’s poem was an easy choice to make. I wrote this several years ago, and while it doesn’t include every member of my family who’s been in the military, I think it gives a nice cross section. And despite a couple of close calls, I’m pleased to say our family has never lost anyone to any military conflict.

Always

I remember my grandfather.
He liked to draw
and when I was very small
he taught me the proper way
to draw a pine tree.
He served
with the St. John's Ambulance
as a driver
in World War I and II.
I will never forget.

I remember my uncle.
He like to read
Louis L'Amour
and to work with
anything mechanical.
He served
as a tail gunner
in a British Lancaster, in World War II before
he became a POW.
I will never forget.

I remember my father.
He liked to work with his hands;
he loved power boats
and used to take me fishing
when I was a child.
He served
with the Canadian Armed Forces
as a Peace Keeper
in Egypt and Korea.
I will never forget.

I remember my brother-in-law.
He had a ready smile
and loved to play pranks.
He carved wood and leather;
he was an amazing artist.
He served
with the American Armed Forces
and fought in Korea.
I will never forget.

These men are my family.
I do not need
a single day
to remember them.
I will remember them
each and every day.
Always.

Feast or Famine

Short Fiction - 0
Long Fiction - 10933
Poetry - 152
Total Words - 11085
Paragraphs of Notes - 4

If you’re wondering about the sudden jump in my word production, then you obviously haven’t heard of National Novel Writing Month, which started at the stroke of November 1st and runs until the end of November 30th. I’m pretty much right on track with my words (you need to write 1667 words a day to complete the challenge) but my story is beginning to flounder so that’s probably going to change.

My usual pattern with NaNo (as it’s affectionately known) is to start out strong, fall behind, fall way behind, catch up a little, fall behind again, catch up, fall behind to the point where you’d think there’s no way I can finish on time, and then have a burst of words at the end that sends me across the finish line. The fact that we’re six days in and I’m still on target is a little disconcerting.

What was also disconcerting was the conversation I had with a writer friend of mine a couple of weeks ago. During the course of our lunch she informed me she was retiring from writing. I didn’t even know that was possible.

This is a woman who’s written twenty novelettes and created her own micro-press so she had total creative control over them. She even went so far as to print them and bind them herself. They’re not available electronically, you had to buy the print version, but she found a niche market that paid her very well.

But not only is she no longer interested in writing any more, she doesn’t even want to print up the books she has to sell them. I suggested maybe she should give electronic publishing a try, but she isn’t interested in that either. It just boggles my mind.

But it also raises an interesting question. What happens to the books you’ve written when you die? I would hate the thought of them dying with me. Can you leave the copyrights to your works to someone in your will so they can continue to profit by them? Would they even want to?

Something to think about.