As some of you may have conjectured, Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month) isn’t going well for me. Currently, I stand at a little over 6 and a half thousand words. Since it’s the 15th, I should be halfway, or at 25,000 words. That’s a little bit of discrepancy. I feel a little like this… Read the rest of this entry
So, I’m burning through words here on the last couple of days in hopes of still completing Nanowrimo. Currently, I’m just over 44,000 and still writing. If I get a chance, I’m still hoping to write a few regular blog posts. On to Freedom Squad…
Erica Sampson sat in a small hotel room in the Superior City suburb of Appleton. It was a medium quality room in a medium quality hotel. Her cover was that she was in town visiting her mother. Her mother’s home was a safe house filled with normal looking people who would protect her and smuggle her back to Washington, DC at a moment’s notice.
Of course, they didn’t know anything.
Erica stared at her smartphone. She needed to make one call and then report to Director Lieber. She hated this assignment, which impressed her, since it was going well.
She understood the importance. One of her mentors had told her that the difference between an upstanding citizen and a criminal was only a few seconds and opportunity. Anyone could lose their temper or fly into a rage. If they had a weapon and a target, someone could get hurt. The problem with metahumans was that they always had weapons, and not just pistols, but powers capable of causing widespread collateral damage. Read the rest of this entry
As I struggle at 37,000 words to reach 50,000 by Sunday night, I thought I’d post Chapter 6 for anyone who wants to do some long weekend reading. Look for a few more posts in the next couple of days, especially since Happily Never After has been released (written with my co-author John Peck under the penname Jack Heckel). Happy Thanksgiving to everyone in the U.S.!
Less than an hour later, Rigel was in the monitor room, scanning through images of women that fit the mental picture she had obtained from Snowfall, when Nightstar arrived with Protector.
“Since it was the woman who spoke to you and Snowfall, Protector, can you help with the identification?”
“Sure,” he said. His tone made Rigel stop her scan.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
It’s the second weekend of Nanowrimo, and I’m diligently working on my novel. Currently, it’s at 10,709 words. The good people at nanowrimo.org do an excellent job of keeping stats and helping writers track their progress. By midnight tonight, I need to be at 15,000 words or more. Am I concerned? Yes. Am I panicked? No.
I usually start off having trouble keeping up. I have a full time day job, and lots of responsibilities as a husband and dad. Additionally, I want to keep working on my writing career (including doing blog posts like this one). Despite my best efforts, I tend to be too much of a perfectionist at the beginning of November. I worry that the book will be lousy or I’ll write something completely unworkable. After I fall behind enough, I’ll stop caring about perfection and accelerate. Read the rest of this entry
Once Rigel and Protector returned to Freedom Squad Headquarters, Cori wanted to do all she could to try and forget the press conference. As they walked in through the roof entrance, they found Solaria, arms folded across the yellow sun symbol on her chest.
“Rigel, you may be the boss, but you two were slow.”
“Maybe a little,” Cori agreed.
Solaria unfolded her arms and walked over. “Hey, Cori, I’m still sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I understand why my powers might bother people.”
“Yeah,” said Solaria, “but I can set the whole city on fire if my powers go wrong.”
“More importantly,” said Protector, “it’s time for you to head down to the pool. Our enemies will certainly try to douse you and drown you at some point, so we need to work on your swimming. I’ll meet you down there.”
As Alex took the stairs down to the lower levels of Freedom Squad Headquarters, Solaria looked over at Rigel. “Who put him in charge of our training?” Read the rest of this entry
Let’s hope this keeps up… more from my Nanowrimo novel…
Cori woke up the next morning and wished that she could have the day off. Her head hurt badly enough that it made her eyes ache. “I really overdid it yesterday with the fire. Maybe coffee and a hot shower will help.”
She rolled out of bed and telekinetically grabbed her yoga mat and unfurled it. “Morning practice first.”
After several sun salutations, the headache faded. By the time she got to the scorpion pose that she liked, it was gone completely. As she rolled up the mat, she contemplated her powers.
Using the telepathy always exhausted her, but she felt better after doing yoga. Maybe it was just a matter of readjusting her mind. Telepathy was reaching out, but perhaps concentrating on her muscles, her breathing and her body was like bringing her mind back home. It seemed like a reasonable concept.
Cori looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess, she had rings around her eyes and she was glistening with perspiration. She didn’t look much like Rigel of Freedom Squad, although she had to admit that they shared the same abs. That was something at least. Read the rest of this entry
More fun from the fast paced writing world of Nanowrimo…
Rigel would rather have been fighting a dozen supervillains instead of facing the high-rise inferno in front of her. Flashing red lights and sirens surrounded her as dozens of firefighters worked together. The police were on the scene as well, keeping crowds and the press back. There were so many distractions, but she had to keep working.
She closed her eyes and focused, using her yoga breathing to stay calm, breathing in through the nose and out through the nose. As she relaxed her body, her mind continued to race.
Using her telepathy, she was trying to coordinate her team amidst the flames and smoke while attempting to locate the minds of anyone trapped inside. Protector was staying close to a group of firefighters inside the building, using his shield to protect them not only from the debris, but from the heat and even the poisonous gases. She shook her head slightly, as she recalled him telling her that he had no powers.
Nightstar had teleported to a higher floor where Rigel had sensed a mind. Although he appeared human, Nightstar didn’t need to breathe the way most people did. She vaguely wondered about what his world must have been like, before returning to her focus. He was almost in the right place.
Nightstar, the person should be through the next door on the left.
She felt more than heard his response. He was on his way. Read the rest of this entry
Hi Everyone! I’m going to post my Nanowrimo entries on a regular basis as I try to fight my way to 50,000 words in one month. Here’s the start (and you choose the concept, Bill Kahn!):
Agent Erica Sampson felt her stomach twist. Although she’d been on plenty of dangerous assignments even to parts of the world where just being a woman put you in jeopardy, meetings made her nervous. The fact that her meeting was in a top secret bunker buried beneath Washington, DC only made it worse. She reminded herself that her invitation was a compliment.
A couple of guards, tough-looking men that stood at attention stiffly enough to proclaim themselves as ex-military, stood in front of what looked to Erica to be a vault door. They checked her badge, before letting her step over to the computerized handprint and retina scanners on the wall next to the door. Something about the men reassured her. Computers could be hacked; humans couldn’t. Or at least, far fewer people could hack them.
She placed her hand against the cool surface of the handprint scanner. Her hand seemed small compared to the large outline. After a second, it beeped, and a blue word displayed over her hand. “Authorized.”
She peered into the retina scanner and saw flashing lights. “Authorized.”
With a metallic clang and a whoosh of air, the door swung partially open. She stepped inside to find herself not in a meeting room, but in something that resembled an airlock or decontamination chamber. She faced another metal door, sealed shut in front of her. After the door behind her closed, the hair on the back of her neck rose slightly.
She was trapped. Read the rest of this entry
It’s early October and I’m suddenly struck with that feeling. It’s coming. November, aka…
50,000 words of total writing madness in 30 days, all the while dealing with everything that life throws at you. Plus, this year, I have an extra challenge or two – new book proposals and writing on Book 3 of the Charming Tales.
Part of me, the sane part of me, says “Don’t do it this year. You don’t have time. You can’t. Would you risk Charming for National Novel Writing Month?”
The crazy part of me, says “AHA! What a great story it would make if you succeeded!”
I’ve done it every year successfully since 2009. I certainly don’t want to stop now. I always tell people who want to try that whether you succeed in writing 50,000 words in a month or not, you will certainly have more words than you started. I believe that. When I first tried Nanowrimo, I failed utterly and ended with only 8,000 words or so. That failure eventually turned into Souls of the Everwood, my first Krueger novel.