That Time of Year

It is just over a week until the annual National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo, challenge begins.  The challenge is to write 50,000 words in 30 days.  Every November 1st writers across the country do their best to hide from the outside world and write their next, great novel.    

Phone calls go unanswered, emails go unread, FaceBook and Twitter posts drop off, DVRs get filled with unwatched episodes.  At the same time characters come to live, worlds are created, events occur on personal and interstellar levels, and stories are told.  Editing is ignored as writing is done in a near stream-of-consciousness method.  All of this in an effort to reach that elusive word count before time runs out.

The National Novel Writing Month website has many tools to help prospective authors wishing to undertake the challenge.  They have forums that allow authors to connect and share advice, story ideas, and offer up abandoned plots for someone else to run with.  There are also schedules with write-ins where writers can meet other local writers in person.  

The most important tool is the word counter.  This tool shows the total number of words written so far, the number of words remaining to reach 50,000, and how many words per day must be averaged to reach the target number.  Word counts can be submitted manually at the start of the month.  For full verification, an automatic counter is used by pasting story text in a counter on the site.

This year will be my third attempt.  During each of my previous tries I broke through 40,000 words, but was unable to reach 50,000.  This year may be no different, however I will still do my best to tell my story as completely as possible.  Here is a sample from my first NaNoWriMo attempt which I self-published as a book titled Dangerous Stars.

Hours later, Christian was returning to his quarters after another uneventful shift in the pilot's cabin. As he lay down on his bunk a light, tapping comes from his door. Samantha is standing there wearing only her jumpsuit and none of the usual clothing under it. In a sultry voice she asks, “Might I come in? The majority of my clothing is being cleaned and these halls are a little cold. Your quarters as so much closer and warmer than mine.”

Christian steps to the side of the doorway and gestures for Samantha to enter his quarters, excited anticipation lighting up his face. “By all means, please enter. We certainly can't allow the guests on our ship to become cold and uncomfortable.”

Samantha slinks into the room, Christian detecting a hint of an exotic perfume as she passes close to him. Christian is unable to take his eyes off Samantha as she slowly settles herself into his work table chair, her sensuality obvious in every movement and gesture. “I do hope I'm not interrupting anything important.”

Christian then returns to his bunk, stretching out leisurely, and picks up the printouts he had been studying when Samantha knocked on his door. He feigns interest in the pages before him, his mind clearly wandering to a figure other than the one represented by the numbers in front of his eyes. “Nothing important, just reviewing some notes on a personal project.”

Samantha speaks in a sultry voice as she gets up from the chair. “Then maybe you wouldn't mind a little bit more of an interruption. Recent ...occurrences have the ship in a dreary mood and I have an urgent desire to feel alive and full of pleasure.” One hand slowly unhooks the shoulder straps of her jumpsuit and allows the top to fall slightly. Only smooth, bare flesh is revealed underneath. She covers the short distance between the chair and Christian's bunk with two seductive strides. The motion of her hips causes the top of her jumpsuit to fall further, coming to a rest around her waist. Her entire upper body is now bare, the notes Christian had been studying gradually falling forgotten from his hand.

Samantha slowly climbs on top of Christian, her legs straddling him to either side. Leaning down and pressing her chest to his, she breathily whispers into his ear, “There is something I've wanted to do to you since I saw you on the research vessel.” He simply lays there, grinning, as she uses one hand to start pushing his shirt up his chest. She stops removing the shirt after his head is out but his arms remain in the short sleeves, effectively pinning his hand behind his head and leaving him at her mercy.

In his relaxed state, Christian fails to notice the sharp knife in Samantha's other hand as it emerges from behind her back. Once she has the blade pressed against his throat, he can no longer help but be aware of it. He is unable see the entire blade, but can see enough to know it is a simple knife stored in the galley for the rare times someone cooks by hand. Christian is very aware of the sharpness of the knife's blade, a deep swallow on his part would draw blood. He isn’t truly afraid, but he has never been quite this nervous in his life.

You can find Dangerous Stars in digital and print formats on Amazon.

Another Point of View

Story ideas seem to come out of nowhere.  During a typical day I was struck by the lightning bolt of a unique thought.  A story from an unusual point of view that I hadn't explored before.  It was a fun experience writing about the life of this individual.

I enjoy my life. Granted, I work hard every day, but so do the majority of those around me. Some of them are diggers that spend the majority of their daily lives with their faces down in the dirt. They dig out passages for traveling and clear out the chambers we use for storage and living quarters. Others spend all day and night caring for the young. Feeding them, cleaning them, making sure they are in a safe area, and carrying them from one place to another if absolutely necessary. The worst job around is sanitation. Those poor folks wander the hallways looking for the wastes other have just left lying around. They have to pick it up and carry it to the dump, an area that the rest of us avoid as much as possible.

I consider myself lucky to have one of the better jobs. I'm one of the ones responsible for our food. I get outside to sample the fresh air and light of the sun. When I look up, I see all the natural beauty this world has to offer. I am also one of the fortunate ones that gets to get the first taste when a new type of food is found. While I still have to share the food, I like to think my opinion of the taste shapes how many others will eat it and what they will think of it. If I don't like something, I let others know and almost none of them will get food there again. It is a heavy responsibility to have sometimes. It is also my privilege to carry particularly wonderful foods to the big boss and share it with her. That is the part of my job I enjoy the most. Getting to interact directly with the woman responsible for all of us being here.

Like I said, the majority of those around me work as hard as I do. It's the ones that don't work as hard that really upset me. It's the folks responsible for our security that do very little on any given day. They do hardly anything. They just stand around watching us work or strut up and down the Just because they are bigger, this is supposed to garner them more respect. They spend most of their time getting in the way of the rest of us working. We have to move around them and their larger size makes it that much more difficult.

The only time they actually do anything is when someone invades our territory. Then they mobilize and attack the invaders. Of course, they go back to doing nothing once the invaders are taken care of. Of course then my coworkers and I have extra work to do. We have to handle any corpses that may be laying around as well as our regular duties. The least the big guys could do is clean up their own messes. I realize they are important because they protect all of us. However, they could also help out with some of the rest of the work when they are not doing anything else.

All things considered, my life is good. I have a job I like and work with many others like me. I get to interact with our majestic leader. I get to experience wonderful sights, sounds, smells, and tastes all the time. Despite the routine nature of my job, no two days are exactly the same. Even though there are thousands just like me, I enjoy who I am.  Who ever would have thought being an ant could be so wonderful?