End of Day One!

My daily goal is 3,000 words and at the end of day one I've hit 3,064 and I'm still going! It's nice knowing where I'm going with this story, unlike last year.

Hope everyone else is doing as well!

NaNoWriMo!

I'm gearing up for this year. I have my story all set in my head and plan on outlining sometime before November.

My goal is the same as last year: at least 3,000 words a day. I can get up to 5,000 on a really good day!

And I'm also looking forward to designing the 'cover' like last year!

The Black Hole of Doom

I haven't updated in a while because I'm sort of stuck in a black hole. I've written a bit here and there. What I need is real inspiration to write something. It's driving me right mad.

Of course, I've been through periods of time like this before. You just feel like, "Maybe I don't really have any talent. Who am I fooling?" I hate that. I feel worthless.

The lack of stories isn't the problem. I've got a head full of great plots and characters (a few novel ideas here on the blog plus a ton more); the thought of writing it is what scares me. I'm back to, "What if they suck when I actually write them out?" I thought I got over that.

Perhaps I need to go back and read some of my earlier work. Maybe that will get the gears kick started again.

NaNoWriMo

On the 13th I finished my first NaNoWriMo novel. Well, the first draft, anyway. I started at 9 pm on November 1st with no outline and had no idea how it was going to end. I think the excitement of finding out what happened helped me finish so fast.

50,039 / 50,000
(100.1%)

Half the story is set in modern time and the other half is set in 1879. Both parts are set in the same town in Connecticut. Right now the historical aspects of 1879 are not in full force; this is a first draft. I rewarded myself for reaching 50,000 words by purchasing a few books that will help me obtain knowledge of that time period so I can make the reader feel that they are actually there in 1879. And of course, 50,000 words is not a full novel, but I have the first draft of the story from finish to end there done. I will eventually go back and add lots of detail and some more events to make it get to 100,000 words.

The story I wrote is one that I had not wrote anything about in this blog previously. I put the story I was previously writing about on hold. I will complete that story (Caged From Credence), as well. The books I purchased will help me with that one, too.

I realized I like writing stories set in the mid to late 1800s. The first half of my NaNo story took a lot of toughing out. I realized I just couldn't cut it to write 'modern' fiction. Historical fiction is more my thing; I'm a history freak.


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Now playing: The Romanovs - Olden Times

Caged From Credence bits Part 2

Back in July I typed up a selection from a story that I just started; I've decided to continue with it. I've even got a title for it! Here's a bit that I finished yesterday:

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Sitting in the library, Celia was trying to concentrate on the book in her hands, but she has been on the same page for the past twenty minutes. She closed the book and turned to look at the window behind her. Through the windows of the library was the large, beautiful garden. One could usually get lost in the view, but Celia's mind was elsewhere. She couldn't stop thinking of the conversations with Mr. Ryan and Mrs. MaClarian.

Upstairs in her room was a birdcage containing a small bluebird. At night she had been trying to recreate the trick Mr. Ryan had showed her with that very bird. The only thing she accomplished was learning how to remove bird droppings from the surfaces of her bedroom. She was starting to think this whole thing was a conspiracy to drive her mad, but thinking logically, of course this wasn't the case.

She was thinking about paying another visit to Mrs. MaClarian when her cousin Frederick walked into the room. He was her mother's sister's son and the two of them were born within months of each other. Celia always took the opportunity to remind him that she was the oldest.

"She appears deep in thought, but is in fact not so." He grinned and sat in the chair next to her.

"How observant."

"Yes, well, I've come to know every look that comes across that face. I haven't yet mastered the whole mind reading thing quite yet."

Startled, she opened her eyes wide and stared at him.

"What?"

She collected herself. "Nothing. Actually, you were wrong. I was deep in thought about something. I couldn't even concentrate on my book."

"Damn. I guess I'm not so observant as I thought."

Celia got up and put her unread book back on the shelf. "Well, don't beat yourself up about it, Freddy. I haven't exactly been acting like my usual self these days."

"Oh?" Frederick raised an eyebrow. With a smirk on his face he said, "Is there a suitor in thou midst?"

"N-," Celia stopped. She couldn't tell him what the real reason was, even though it was Freddy. And besides, Mrs. MaClarian said not to share with anyone. "Um, yes, well, it's complicated."

"I see." He got up and stood in front of her. "Who is this person whose life I must make miserable?"

"In that case, I'm not telling you."

"I am insulted!" he shouted teasingly.

Celia laughed. "Fine, then," he said. "I see I must do some sleuthing and find this beast myself."

"Oh, good, then it will take a while."

"Again! Insulted!" But then he laughed as well. "Well, I must go. Sorry to tease and dash. I just wanted to come by and see how you were today. I have an appointment with a professor that I am not looking forward to at all. Perhaps a longer visit is in store tomorrow. Au revoir!"

Celia waved after him.

Hopefully I can share this with him soon, she thought. I need to discuss all this with someone half-way sane.

She remembered that she was thinking of paying another visit to Mrs. MaClarian when Freddy walked in. She decided to do just that.

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I literally thought of Frederick as I was writing this. I think I like him.

As The Adventures Continue

I currently have three stories going; one set in the 1930s (and 1990s) and one is set in the 1920s. The one I'm currently working on I have no idea when to set it. I'm thinking maybe the 1800s. Perhaps the 70s, 80s or 90s.

So I'm writing this story not knowing when it's set. How is this even possible? Not to mention that I have no idea how any of these three stories end. At the same time, I'm getting stuff done. Insane, but my abnormal method is working.

I bought myself a journal. Online journals I use to post about my day and also for stupid stuff. I never post my thoughts or personal information on there. I figure I'll use my physical journal for that. Perhaps someone will find it one day in the future after I'm worm food and find me interesting.

An idea that came to me when I woke up today.

This scene popped into my head as I awoke:

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“Now, watch closely.” He covered the small blue bird completely with both hands, shook them up and down and separated them. The bird was gone.

“I've see tricks like this before. It's up your sleeve.”

“ The bird is up my sleeve?” He then began to smack his arms with both hands.

“All right, your hands weren't completely closed in the back. It flew out.”

“If that were the case, wouldn't you have seen it?”

Celia thought for a second. “Its a trained bird. It's on your being somewhere.”

He began hitting himself, “I could roll on the floor if you like?”

“That's not necessary.”

“Good because I'm sure that little birdie would really like to come back to this world”

He put his hands back into position and showed Celia that there was no way for anything to sneak in. Same as before he shook them up and down and separated them, this time more slowly. A blue head peeked out.

“You see?”

“Every magician can do a trick like this. You are just a little bit more clever.”

He smiled. “I appreciate the clever bit, but I must correct you. I am not a magician.”

“I'm sorry?”

“A magician is someone who pulls rabbits out of secret compartments of hats and makes 'random' people 'disappear' in back compartments of cleverly built boxes. A magician is someone who puts swords through people, decapitates them and puts them back together unharmed. A magician does all of this in front of an audience for money. No, I am not a magician.”

Bewildered, Celia asked, “Then what are you?”

“I am an accountant.”

Celia laughed.

“I figured you'd laugh. Tell me, have you ever been to a psychic?”

“Once, just to humor my friends.”

“A lady you had to pay who waved her hands convincingly over a glass ball?”

“Er, yes.”

“That was not a psychic. Just like the man who decapitates people on stage, she is an entertainer.”

“No, her name was Psychic Ann and she told me...”

“That you were unmarried and would 'soon find love?' (of course seeing there is no ring on your left hand) or 'you will reunite with someone from your past?' Yes, all these will most likely come true. Did she give you a date that these events would happen?”

“No. How did you know...?”

“Didn't think so. Don't you see? A 'psychic' will predict for you vague events. No details, no dates, so twenty years later these things could happen and you'll gasp and say, 'Just as Psychic Ann predicted!”

“My point is: a real person who can read the future or make someone disappear and then reappear in thin air does not put on a show. They go about their normal lives and usually don't share their gifts.”

Celia laughed again. “Ok, sir, you are good. I must admit, I almost bought some of that. Now, if you excuse me, I have to return to the real world”

“Fine. First, take him.” He handed the bird over to her. “Set him free. I can always get another if I need one.”

She took the bird from his hands and held it as he did. She looked up at him in his dark eyes and then turned towards the door.

“Oh, one more thing. Your family gets clothing tailored and altered at the MaClarians', yes?”

“Yes.”

“Ah, Mrs. MaClarian, now she's someone better inclined to tell you your future.” He smiled and turned to walk back to his desk.

Celia walked outside. “He is mad.” She started to let the bird go, but instead walked down the street and bought a birdcage and cover. She then walked home, the cage hanging from her left hand.

“I shall prove how he did it and go back to him and show him how crazy he is.”

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I'm sure this will be an end of a chapter and there are bits before it. I don't know where this came from, but I like where it is going. I came up with a big idea while writing it that has me intrigued to write more.