Valiant or Vain (or Both): A Cunning Time Plan

So I’ve been floundering for a couple of months. A bit. Nothing new, really – so much to do, so little time. It’s a not-so-good thing that I’m not great at optimising my time, due to further not-particularly-new-or-unique reasons – too tired after work to write, kitty to be played with, songs to be sung – the usual.

But now, I will at least have a valiant/vain attempt. Weekdays without evening commitments, be ready. Hopefully getting it down will help with sticking to it – or trying, at least. Just imagine I have an approximate tilde before every time …

6.30 – get up

6.30 – 7.15 – morning chores and readiness for work

7.15 – 8.00/8.15 (depending on bussing or biking)  (or – 9.00/9.15 when I stop working overtime) – work on Treading Twisted Lines

8.00/8.15 – 8.54 (or 9.00/9.15 to 9.54 without overtime) – bus or bike to work

8.54 (or 9.54 without overtime) – 18.00 – do the work thing

18.00 – 18.45 – bike or bus home

18.45 – 20.30 – evening fooding, cleansing, chores, etc (maybe a bit of relaxing?)

20.30 – 23.00 – work on editing and reworking Embraced (first novel)/work on new novel, working title Shimmer, Child of Light/work on other projects. Alternate as necessary. But not on the same night. One night, one project. Things will get too muddled, otherwise …

23.00 – fall asleep instantly. I’m not so good at falling asleep, either …

We’ll see what happens, anyway. Given it’s one of my nights without evening commitments, I’m already flouting this – haven’t showered yet. And I suppose anything related to blogging/social networking/self-publishing/looking for not self-publishing agent-publishing people gets crammed in where it fits. Or relegated to weekend time. Not projecting this will last long. But at least it’s an outline. It’ll be good to use what time I have more wisely (if a bit ambitiously) while I still have that time. Am I an adult, after all … adult-ish, anyway. When the time comes for doing adult-ish things, I’ll probably laugh to even remember this post.

The False Angel and the White Knife: a novel excerpt in an Inkitt contest

Greetings lovely people 🙂

Not expecting many to lift their hand at this salutation – I’ve been gone too long for that, unable to keep up with blogging here at my faithful doll thermometer, attempting other forms of blogging/social media, etcetera. Nevertheless, I hope to still pop things up from time to time – when I put Book #4 of the Treading Twisted Lines series up for pre-release, for one. Should be reasonably soon, I hope. Almost through the last trudge of the final edit. Can’t bring myself to work on it right now, though – just finished Den Patrick’s “The Boy Who Wept Blood”, and I’m having trouble maintaining my composure. Needless to say, difficult to focus with tears streaming. However, there is something I’ve done recently I’d like to share … otherwise I probably wouldn’t be here 🙂 I suppose that’s so with blogging in general, whether long absent or not.

I recently followed the Twitter account of a writing community called Inkitt, and soon after received an invitation to participate in the contest they’re currently holding. It’s called Echo of Another World, held in honour of Terry Pratchett. I wondered a while if I could finish and enter a short story/novelette I’ve had in mind, but concluded I would not have the time to do the story justice. However, the rules indicate that novel excerpts are welcome. So, after a little thought, I spent a few days editing/reworking two chapters from my first novel – the ridiculously long one that no unpublished writer could ever hope to traditionally publish. I nervously popped it up on the site yesterday.

The cover image is awful – text over a Paint-adjusted free image. I am so far from an artist it’s sad.

The excerpt is called “The False Angel and the White Knife”, chapters eight and nine of the presently fourty-four chapter novel, and comes in at roughly 12,000 words. So, roughly, you’d probably estimate the whole thing might be around 264,000 words. Sadly, you’d be wrong – I know for a fact it’s over 400,000.

Sigh.

In any case, I’d love it if anyone wanted to read my work and let me know what they think. Also, it’s community voting to determine the finalists, so, if you do like it, a vote would be very much appreciated. Vaguely hoping someone with their foot in publishing’s door might magically spot it and see potential. Aren’t hopes lovely 🙂

You can have a look at “The False Angel and the White Knife” at http://www.inkitt.com/stories/13054.

And now, here’s the 200-character or less summary that I hope entices you to have a look:

“A scorned leader of a zealously religious and racist people, the Mirror-to-be uncertainly performs a brutal ceremony on capture of a hated False Angel, whose soul is fused with another’s, far away.”

Deign, if you will, to hear my humble mind – Sonnet #2

And now, a brief rant in a not-much-anticipated second attempt at iambic pentameter.

Deign, if you will, to hear my humble mind:

In the depths of those who look to you, sow

only that which brings light, else be enshrined

in culpability – because we know

Work. Craft wonder, limbs wing weightless on air

But mind your rule, for you are naught alone

A signal, a plea passed over; you dare

surge on? Of course: what matters but your throne?

What is broken sums beyond stars and sand

without your negligence, your apathy

Yet showered with praise and glory you stand

while we mend and shed tears of empathy

But we know – we know. And I pray you’ll rue

that it was you, it was you. It. Was. You

Here’s To Another Round of Bombarding Every Literary Agent I Have On My List Right Now

Sat up late last night double-checking cover letters, brief synopses of varying lengths, and preferred formatting of sample chapters before sending submissions of my more user-friendly novel, Missing Exhibit – the young adult/fantasy/psychological drama one as opposed to the not-so-young-adult/fantasy/maybe a little sci fi/psychological drama one, in case anyone was wondering… – into another six UK literary agencies.

Not exactly a relaxing evening, but a hopeful one.

I’m still surprised when I sit down for a spot of nervous editing (this is most of the time right now when I sit down to do anything remotely writing relating – just can’t focus on newer projects at the moment… and that’s getting kind of old) when I find most of it reads pretty well.  I like it, and enjoy reading it over. Almost a year after finishing Missing Exhibit, for the most part, I’m still really happy with it. I like to think that’s a good sign.

So I maintain hope that this novel will eventually stand out from amid its fellow slush. It only has to stand out to one person. Just one. That’ll be more than enough, for now.

I look forward to the day this unknown, but already much revered and appreciated literary agent can help my stories stand out to others, too.

O.G.F.C: German Fiction, Gumby or Cheeseburger

First Balderdash in a while. Have a guess in the comments – remember, Googling is a last resort.

And now, let’s play Balderdash…

Category: Acronyms

O.G.F.C.

a) Original German Fiction Club

b) Official Gumby Fan Club

c) Outrageous Gherkin and Fries Cheeseburger

A New Look and Hopefully a New Attempt to Create Some Kind of Schedule Here

Lookit – pretty new theme. Nice and simple. Took a long time to choose…

In addition to this visual remodel, this blog’s content needs a bit of a remodel, as well. And, when I say remodel, I mean actually release content in a vaguely consistent and predictable manner as once used to be the case.

So, current plan:

Sundays: post a randomly generated scene, a picture in 100 words or a Balderdash (or any other format I can think of – been tossing around an idea for a while tentatively titled the other-other archetypes)

Tuesdays: post some meek attempt at poetry or a six-word story

Thursdays: post the next album piece

Any days (if at all): post random, chatty, observational posts

I don’t think I’ve explained the album pieces at all… I meant to get right into it last year with Genesis, but, as you might have seen, I only wound up writing the next one, Salt In The Wounds, the other day. Basically, I choose an album – I’ve started with Pendulum’s Immersion – really good album; you should have a listen, if you’ve not heard it. For each song on that album, in order, I shall create a short piece written while listening to that song on repeat, the word count taken from the length of the song – for example, Salt In The Wounds is six minutes 39 seconds on the album, therefore, I wrote a piece 639 words long.

I think these will have to be considered a little like art pieces… all in the name of writing practice. I’m trying to link the songs on the album with similar ideas (a bit like an ultra-short story cycle, I suppose) and by ending them the same way, however silly it may seem. I may try something different with the next album – the current plan is to write for The Jezabels’ album Prisoner next.

So let’s see if I can stick to this proposed scheduled. Most likely not… at least, not at the rate I’ve been blogging recently. I should probably try to use transport time for planning instead of just staring into space…

Salt In The Wounds (Immersion #2)

Salt In The Wounds, track 2 from Pendulum’s Immersion.

Album time, 6:39.

*

Through smoke, crashing and tripping over our hastening feet, we flee. Our filthy hands, fingers quaking, desperately clutch our gushing hurts, flesh ripped to bloody strings and raw. There is no time to bind them – even now, the booming monstrosity at our backs – far behind us; please, far behind – rattles our eardrums a third time, rallying our pursuers and startling cries of terror from our lips. We must stumble on – quickly, quickly – even as we feel our limbs weaken, step for step, drop for oozing crimson drop.

We cry out again; agony and fear are identical. In a strangled hiss, we try to hush ourselves as a shriek of hunter’s pleasure ricochets through the darkness, honing in on our position. The words die on our parched tongue. Even if we cut it out, so damaged and in such terror, we could make no less noise in this chase – bare feet slapping concrete, crashing into brick and cowering for bare moments in alleys before taking off again – than a herd of ravaged cattle eager to escape their tormentors.

We are cattle. Only, we share a further demon.

We know about the abattoir.

Gritting our teeth and forcing all that near consumes the remains of our common sense deep down our throat, we try to rally some logic as our hunters do the same with numbers on our tail. But we smother coughs, breathing hard from our race, inhaling fumes that leak from factories and sewers. We flounder, disoriented. We cannot let the poison stop us, scatter us! There is no shelter in this concrete maze! So we turn east, pulled by some magnetic force toward fresher air, for the sea.

We belt along bitumen roads, now, the claustrophobic towers and walls left behind, but the booming – it is like terror itself! Like the very darkest sins of nature and not so hideously twisted into sound – assails us again. With moans, we begin to drop to our knees, spent and helpless. We won’t all make it. Even as we begin to leave ourselves behind, we drive our feet harder, faster, into the ground. Sweat streams down our limbs, getting in our wounds. The salt is unbearable, before-throbbing damage now stinging three-fold. We dash our feet to the stones in the road just to draw away the intensity, another hurt to occupy our mind.

We see the sand dunes ahead, lit silver in the searchlights.

Fuelled more by fight-or-flight and the lingering, nauseating effect of adrenaline on our nerves and brain than our depleted lifeblood that only minutes before had carried the hormone through our system, we hurl ourselves over the dunes, tumbling through bristly scrub and falling – falling further, metres and metres – into loose sand. The impact jars us, but within moments we are up and tearing away, racing – toward what? The sand stretches left and right, before us inky ocean. We know what lies behind, closing in fast beyond the dunes.

This is not sense! Where are we to go!

We feel our hunters’ presence as a sack dropping over our head. Any moment, we are sure they will show themselves over the dunes and the sound will swell again and paralyse us as we dither, trapped, confusion reigning on the beach these short moments of pseudo-freedom.

But they cannot see us yet.

With a last push of effort, we cover the distance to sand hard-packed where foam laps. Our feet are the first victims, howling as the salt in the sand bites deep. We will ourselves silent and, trying in vain to protect our broken skin, splash into the ocean, pulling ourselves under, digging in our fingertips and clinging to the roots of weeds that hold the seabed together.

Submerged, our body screams, afire.

We barely hear our pursuers take the beach.

But the searchlights permeate the salt.

Hold…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kHtUAl785cQ

*

This was Salt In The Wounds (Immersion #2). If you missed it, here’s Genesis (Immersion #1).

Imminent Danger Book Review

I took my time about it, but here it is:  a review of Michelle Proulx’s exceptional novel Imminent Danger and How to Fly Straight Into It. A fantastic read—why not head over to her site (links above) for a look? Definitely worth more than a click.

*

I’d been meaning to read Imminent Danger for some time. When I finally did read this independently-released young adult science fiction romance—a genre I’m now hoping to see much more of—it was after trudging through a book a really didn’t enjoy at all. I’m not meaning to make comparisons here, but reading Imminent Danger directly after that disappointing book did highlight many glowing aspects of this very well-written novel.

For starters, despite being set predominantly in space surrounded by many-armed blue aliens and the like, this novel felt real. And if there’s one thing I love, it’s a good, realistic speculative fiction. Extra-terrestrials and setting aside—vivid as the descriptions of beautiful space crafts and sprawling alien marketplaces are—I think a heavy contributor to this strong sense of real is the dialogue. This was natural and unforced—an author’s skill in generating such dialogue may be easily overlooked until a few samples of novels chock-full of unnatural dialogue are endured.

Eris I found to be a brilliant protagonist. Though she spends much of her time forced to be a damsel in considerable distress by the increasingly dire situations she finds herself in, she is down-to-earth about it, a determined individual and very easy to relate to. Varrin is terrible and wonderful, charming and appalling—the kind of person anyone would dearly love to shove in a muddy puddle. Unfortunately, I don’t think anyone would be able to pull it off—he’s too wily. I hope Eris manages something along those lines in the sequels—sequels I’m very much looking forward to.

This novel was exciting to read, fast-paced, and somewhat addictive, but perhaps what I loved most about Imminent Danger was that it made me laugh. A lot. A sizable fraction of my time with this novel was spent giggling aloud—there are not many better signs of a good time than that.

Michelle Proulx’s Imminent Danger was an absolute delight to read and a novel I highly recommend to all lovers of the young adult genre. Four and a half gold stars for you, Michelle 🙂

NaNoWriMo Checklist

While trying to write the basic outline of chapters up to the point where I know how everything happens – not too much further to go, but probably won’t be done before it ticks into November – thought I’d do a quick inventory:

Ideas – very checked

Motivation – reasonably checked, though have a feeling various things shall interfere throughout the month

Writing Buddies – hi Mummy and Auntie Sandra and other dear writing buddies – thanks for checking this 🙂

Laptop – a nice, still new and shiny check

Writing software – Word and yWriter will check this well enough – shall hopefully take advantage of NaNoWriMo sponsor deals once it’s all over to get hold of some impressive gear at lovely, lovely prices

Pens – none of my nice ones from Japan have any ink left in them save the pale green one and bright red one, but there are still many more pens in the world, though I’m not convinced of the ink quality of all of them, either… this item remains quite checked

Caffeine – a fridge of coke cans equals check

Notebook – OH DEAR GOD MY PRECIOUS GREEN BEHIND GLASS NOTEBOOK ONLY HAS 13 CLEAN PAGES LEFT! WHERE CAN I KEEP WRITING MY NOTES??? I CAN’T START A NEW NOTEBOOK WHEN MOST OF THE NOTE TAKING PROCESS IS DONE! BUT ALL THAT’S LEFT WON’T FIT! WILL I HAVE TO RESORT TO SCRAP PAPER AGAIN? I SWORE I’D NEVER DO SCRAP PAPER AGAIN! WHAT WILL I DO?

Bring on November…

NaNo Again … How Did This Happen?

So apparently I’m attempting NaNoWriMo again this year. Whose idea was this?

Anyway, I’m taking the literary plunge and attempting to get lots of good work done on Behind Glass, which has been sitting on this blog at roughly 25,000 words for a very, very long time. Hopefully by the end of November a winning 50,000 will take it up to 75,000 words, though I’m not convinced it will be finished at the end of November. There’s a lot to get through; I’m not expecting it to be less than 150,000 words by the time it’s done, though hopefully I will be pleasantly surprised. 120,000 would be lovely.

Do I actually expect to get 50,000 words and win this year? Not really, which will be embarrassing after last year – I came in at just under 80,000. Admittedly, I didn’t have a job last year. More specifically, I didn’t have a job that starts late and finishes late. But maybe the lovely NaNo atmosphere will give me a push. At the moment, I’m trying to rework a bit what’s already written and then get a good, detailed plan done for the rest of the story before November, and I came home from work today eager to get a bit more done. That’s a good sign, given when I usually get home, like most people, I feel like collapsing in a heap and not moving until I have to do the work thing all over again the next day.

Buddy me up if you’d like to, all folks and friends also stuffing their Novembers full of glorious words – my username is narwhal_sonnets. If you’re wondering about that, feel free to look up narwhals and sonnets on this blog and learn why.

There will probably be another chance closer to the start mark, but just in case I forget – good luck to all WriMos and I hope your November is incredibly rewarding and productive and awesome.