I May Be Some Time

I'm just going outside and may be some time. Though hopefully not as long as that nice Titus Oates...

I've got a week left til my birthday. The novel's current incarnation is on 41,500 words. From what I can see of the road ahead, I expect to come in around 80-90,000.

Like that kid on the left there, I've got a daunting task. But hey, slugging out of my weight is practically second nature.

I've also got some kind of summer cold/virus. Given that I thought I saw a white horse in the back yard just now, I may have a bit of a fever as well...

At any rate, my only prayer of finishing this beast involves unplugging the modem. I do promise to check back in on the 3rd and let you all know how everything went.

Meantime, here's a painting by Robert Bailey with a title close to my heart!

Rest assured that this week will indeed be spent at full throttle!

Getting My Thanks On

Woohoo, Thanksgiving morning! My first in ten years...

Bought the turkey yesterday, should be about defrosted now. Even found cranberry sauce!

New Zealand simply does not get this Thanksgiving idea. Of course, they don't get Rammadan or Passover either, probably or the same reasons.

The turkey: Biggest turkey I could find was 14lbs. That one was $90. I settled for an 11lb. bird for $60. The Tiny Dynamo was spitting tacks.

Cranberries: Apparently only grow in America. Or something. One market in the city center carried some jars of Ocean Spray. I snapped up what I needed.

Pumpkin Pie: Canned pumpkin? What's that? Why on earth would anyone want a can of pureed pumpkin? For pie? That's just wrong. Sick and wrong!

I boiled and mashed and blended my own damn pumpkin and made my pie last night. Yup, I'm a night-before dessert guy, always have been...

And of course, celebrating the autumn harvest on a sunny summer's day (think early or mid-June) doesn't help, either!

But enough ranting. I'm having a BLAST!

I do love cooking, much to the Tiny Dynamo's surprise. Thing is, I lack her flair and artistry in the kitchen. That and my 'risk tolerant' personality have barred me from cooking for her!

It's a *great* day out here, and we might get up into the hills for a walk in the woods.

Later tonight, a few members of Clan Dynamo will gather to share the bounty.

And every day I am thinkful for the many blessings in my life. It's a chain of minor miracles and bold actions that brought me to this time and place, and I'm grateful for every single one of them. My life right now is paradise.

Official More-Daily-Than-Usual

Wordcount-o-Meter:

40,066 words

Zipping right along!

Owwwwwwwwch

Just for kicks, just kind of, you know, for today, I thought I'd forego my pot of coffee for a nice pot of tea.

It's warm. It's got caffeine. It tastes good.

It's like taking aspirin for a stab wound.

And I have to write like this...

Unofficial Not-So-Daily Wordcount-o-Meter:

38,000 words

The 'damage' (about 5k that just weren't up to snuff and had to come out) has been repaired.

Act II has its 'sagging middle' propped up with an action-filled climax to one of the subplots.

The field is clearer now, and three important clues wait to send my Hero hurtling into his final showdown with the Main Bastard.

I have no idea which one he'll find, or what he'll make of them when he does. That's part of the fun!

Where DO You Get Your Ideas

Don't you just love that question?


Right now, my Main Bastard has really found his groove. He's fiercely loyal to the Minor Bastard. He's charismatic in his way, a good friend.


He's also sadistic, murderous and terrifying. He moves through a world of pleasure, victims and opportunity. Pity anyone or anything the Main Bastard catches weak and alone.


Killing isn't enough for the Main Bastard. For some reason, he loves to play with his victims. He reenacts his triumphs with the dead bodies until the game bores him.


It's only a matter of time before he begins his search again.


Why?


It's his nature. Taking prey, he feels alive.


The Tiny Dynamo finds my work violent and dark. She often wonders where those terrible ideas come from.


Somehow, I don't think she'd believe me if I told her:

His fluffy, pretend victims aren't enough. He brought another bird in the house last night.... Gotta love him, though!

Okay, let's see if I've figured out how to do this....

Because, you know, these studio jerks are really getting to me.

Man's Best Friend

Ladies and Gentlemen, Mister Butler Dynamo

He comes when called.

He follows me from room to room, just kind of staring at me.

He holds a sit/stay while I eat, patient to see if there will be any table scraps for him.

He doesn't meow.

Yesterday, I caught him burying a bone in the yard.

I think I may have a dog...

Official Not-so-Daily Wordcount-o-Meter:

29,663 words,

down from 35k and boy am I unhappy about that!

Those Little Nippers

Turns out that gentle stoner whose original role was mostly the laying of pipe is a real passive-aggressive, backstabbing bastard.

And a Supporting Actress whose role I didn't (and still don't) quite understand has a lot more sand to her than I'd first thought. I'm starting to see how a gal like that might figure in the villains' denouement.

Oh, and my sweet-natured Innocent Victim? She might be a bit of a liar, and a thief.

At least, at long last, my Hero is finally alone among the villains, isolated and without solace on an estate that makes Thornfield or Manderlay seem like beachside holiday homes. The two Villains have different reasons for wanting him there, and Kane has his own reasons for going.

Yesterday was a day of surprises!

Official Semi-Daily Wordcount-o-Meter:

27,073 words

Will I make my unoffical Dec. 2nd deadline?

Let us hope....

Write Like the Wind

Burned the midnight oil on Sunday, then lit it up again Monday morning. So far, I am pleased.

It's a little daunting to know that I'm aiming for my Act II climax (which will also be the cliffhanger that carries us into Act III) by Thanksgiving. This point, it's all faith that these tangled bits of colored yarn will lead anywhere useful. But faith is part of the process.

Emotional Stages of Writing a Novel:

Infatuation: Like any relationship, we all start with that first rush of excitement. Based on anecdotal evidence, this rarely lasts more than 50 pages. After that wears off, mix at will:

Pride: Not just any old pride. No, I'm talking Luciferian Pride. Every word you write is pure gold. You're the shizzle, and you know it. Any old moment now, the world will lay at your feet.

This feeling is a lie. A tempting lie, but still a lie. Thankfuly, these days don't come too often. Not without chemical help...

Insecurity: The work's no good. Anything good you may have done, that was a fluke. Your words taste of ashes, and the light goes out of the sun.

This feeling is also a lie. Suck it up and keep moving. Tomorrow's another day.

Grinding: Most days are like this. Not too high, not too low, you just gotta have the endurance to keep putting in the work.

For me, these days are the challenge. It takes discipline to stick with the project and not chase after the next great idea. That's why I do 1000 words a day, like it or not.

Gethsemane: Every novel or graphic novel I've ever written has taken me through at least one long dark night in the garden. I'm pretty sure we all go through these. You just gotta have...

Faith: Where I'm at today. The work has enough of its own weight behind it to lend some momentum, but as writers we suspect the story is still fragile enough to shatter into a thousand fragments.

It isn't, but it feels that way. Hence, the faith.

Excitement: For me, that's usually when I turn the Act III corner. Everything's locked and loaded for the Final Showdown, and soon I'll be... DONE!

Sorta-Daily Wordcount-o-Meter:

24,572 words, not too shabby....

Lest We Forget

For the first time in almost a decade, I'll be celebrating Thanksgiving. You see, not only is the fourth Thursday in November not a holiday here, unlike the US, a mammoth bird doesn't sell for $10-20. Oh, no. No, no no no.... A turkey that would have an American family giving you evil looks, here in New Zealand that bad boy goes for over sixty bucks!

At those prices, once a decade will probably suit me. :-)

At any rate, in honor of the approaching holiday, let's all revisit the Turkey City Lexicon. Solid, timeless advice on what NOT to do...

Official Not-so-Daily

Wordcount-o-Meter:

19,458 words

I'm determined to finish this damned thing by my birthday!