More to come

It seems like I have had a number of projects all hitting me at once.  Finishing editing on a book and sending it to the publisher, working on ideas for longer Choose-Your-Own-Adventure style stories, family adventures, life in general, and many other things.  

One project required quite a bit of research and study.  Now I'm doing a preliminary writing of a story for a comic book.  The tricky part of it all will be the art.  Anyone that's seen my digital graphics knows I have little to no artistic talents.  Once I am done, I will be handing off the work to another to bring my ideas to print.  To aid them, I hope, I have began doing some rough layouts.  This is the idea I have for the first page.

Once I get things more polished and in process, I will let you know.  In the meantime, here are some of the stories from the group I'm working with.

Endings

When planning a road trip you look at where you are, where you are going, and any stops you may want to visit along the way.  Writing a novel is generally done in the same way.  Figure out where the characters start and who they are.  Then, put them into situations that challenge them along their journey to the end of the story.  That is how it's supposed to work anyway.

Sometimes the characters refuse to cooperate and decide they want to take a different route than originally planned.  They would rather go and see The Alamo instead of taking the northern route by Mount Rushmore. I am having trouble finishing off my current novel, the sequel to Dangerous Stars.  One of the characters wanted to be playful, so I wrote in a prank for him to pull off.  Now my cast of crew mates doesn't want the story to end.

Until I manage to get them in line, here is a sample scene from the as yet untitled novel.

In the space outside, the CARRION CRUISER reaches a distance from the KRENNET that would barely be considered safe for maneuvering by nearly any pilot in space. The captain of the CARRION CRUISER transmits a signal directly to the KRENNET that Crystal relays to Traylor.

“This is Gierness Johnson, captain of the CARRION CRUISER. Delivery has been completed and accepted. The cargo is alive and well in your possession. We will depart this system once payment has been made and your AI sends ours the deposit authorization code.”

“Captain Johnson, this is Traylor. I am the pilot of the KRENNET. We were not authorized to make any kind of payment or credit transfer at this time. That wasn't a part of the instructions we agreed to. The previous carriers didn't require anything before their departures. It is our understanding that payment will be arranged by the officer that dispatched you with your orders.”

“No! I refuse to split any more payments with a little rat of a middle man that risks nothing more serious than a sore on his ass from sitting in his chair too long. We take the chances with the authorities, we risk our lives handling these and transporting these scum. We deserve more than just a pittance to live on. Now, either pay us or give us all the slaves you have. We'll deliver them ourselves and get the big payday.”

As Captain Johnson spoke, a series of alarming indicators activate on Traylor's panels. Crystal confirms what Traylor is seeing. “The other ship is activating their weapons systems and they are targeting us.”

Traylor thumbs a switch that will broadcast her voice through the entire ship. “Attention all personnel. Passengers secure yourselves to your bunks. Crew to stations. The CARRION CRUISER has taken an aggressive stance and we expect to be attacked at any minute. All airlocks are being automatically sealed. Passengers, be aware all hatches between cargo bay decks are automatically secured as well. In case of injury, please remain where you are until the threat has passed and help will be dispatched to you.”

While I try to get everyone in line, feel free to get yourself a copy of Dangerous Stars and Post Exodus to enjoy.  Once you've read them, leave a comment here or a review on your favorite site saying what you thought.

All Done

November 30th has come and gone.  My verified word count for the National Novel Writing Month challenge is 50,079 words written in 30 days.  On my fourth try, I am a WINNER!  I am excited, exhausted, relieved, and satisfied.  Now the more serious work begins.  I have to finish the story and seal up some plot holes.  There is tons of editing that needs to be done.  A title needs to be settled on.  A cover image needs to be chosen or made.  Writing the story is only the beginning and the easiest part of getting a novel out to the public.

My brain cells continue to recover as I take a slower, more careful look at the words I have written.  Today's post is one of the epilogues from the end of the book.  If you wish to read the book once it is completed, this shouldn't be too much of a spoiler.  In the meantime, enjoy.

News is being broadcast all over the station. A hidden corinthum processing plant had been located on the planet below. The discovery was due to an issue arising with some odd residue being discovered in a secondary power system for the station. An operation by Sector Security's elite enforcement officers led them to the storage room full of slag. From there it was easy to track down the processing center on the planet and its supply of raw corinthum and other minerals.

Timothy “Timmy” Van Hausen sits in his office when the news comes across his terminal. Without even thinking about it, he compiles a few files together. The files are attached to a message that also includes the names of a number of the people on the orbital station. Names of people that Timmy has worked with in unofficial ways for some time. Timmy's contacts on other stations in other systems also go into the message. The captains he had recruited to collect and transport slaves and their ships were also mentioned. Finally Timmy signs the message with his personal identification code to show the contents are from him and not part of any official procedure or communique. The message is sent to the station's commander, the Sector Security Deputy Director in charge of this region, Timmy's own direct supervisor, and a number of other administrators and officials.

Once the message is sent, Timmy shuts his terminal down and stands up. Despite the fact it's less than halfway through his work day, he walks out of his office with the feeling he won't be back. A short lift ride brings him to the commons. There he sits down at an empty table and waits for someone. He isn't sure who and how long before they arrive, but he will sit here and wait as long as it takes.

This novel is a sequel to my first NaNoWriMo attempt and published novel, Dangerous Stars.  Pick up a copy and get to know the characters while I finish up their second adventure.  Go.  Read.  Enjoy.

Grinding

Since November 1st I have been with hundreds of thousands of writers around the world grinding away at our stories.  50,000 words in 30 days is obtainable for some and a target to be chased after by others.  This is the challenge of National Novel Writing Month.  While I work on filling out my own story, here is a sample of what I'm working on now.  It is the sequel to my first novel, Dangerous Stars.

The ship's AI quickly consulted records for the answers to Lss'Tor's questions. “Brenneth 5 is a basic class M planet. It was settled by a large contingent of religious zealots from Earth with no terraforming required. Previous persecution and religious tenants caused the planet to become isolated. They have no interstellar exports or imports. Sector Security has no presence in the system at all. The nearest sizable forces are in the Maitland system. The remoteness of the star system means that it isn't on any civilian cargo routes or flight paths. We are one of three ships within range of the broadcast. One is an unarmed interstellar scout heading out to explore further outlying systems. The other is a Sector Security battle cruiser returning to the Maitland system from a round of system upgrades.”

Christian speaks up while everyone else is still considering the tactics of their current situation. “There is nothing to decide here people. Interstellar code requires that any ship within range of a distress signal respond if they are able. We are still heavily armed, our cargo isn't critical, and we can leave this pursuit for someone else to pick up.”

Traylor chimes in with her opinion. “Christian, you are simply spoiling for a fight. The battle cruiser can handle things themselves. They don't need us. Besides, we've been warned against converting the KRENNET into combat mode where Sector Security ships could detect us.”

Christian's determination came through his voice. “That battle cruiser can't defend an entire planet by itself. There may be evacuating shuttles that need to be protected. Even an isolated planet will have industrial facilities that would be vulnerable. One simple shot from me and the tracking device will be on this damn Raider. Then we can do what needs to be done.

As for the battle cruiser detecting us while we convert, that's simple. We just enter the system in combat mode. Crystal can alter our transponder to broadcast a false signal. The cargo ship KRENNET won't be anywhere near the Brenneth system as far as anyone knows.”

Granek's rumbling voice cuts through any further discussion. “We are a crew of equals. We will decide which course to take by majority decision. Each of you state 'Pursue' if you feel we should stay on mission or 'Rescue' if you believe we should go to the aid of Brenneth 5. Crystal, could you please record the votes into your protected core for future review?”

“Protected memory ready for recording.”

Granek once again speaks in his rough tone. “Understood. I will call each of you by name for your vote. My position is 'Rescue.' Traylor?”

“I say 'Pursue.'”

“So noted. Christian?”

“It should be obvious, 'Rescue.'”

“So noted. Lss'Tor?”

“Purssue”

“So noted. Fezror, the vote comes to you.”

The engineer's rarely heard voice is soft yet clear enough for everyone to hear. “I can't simply let an entire planet remain in harm's way again. I say 'Rescue.'”

Granek stated what everyone now knew. “By majority decision we will be breaking off our pursuit of the Raider attack craft after planting a tracking beacon on its hull. We will convert out of combat mode to allow for more speed to the Brenneth system.

Now, where did I leave off at.....?   

Cover Art

A lot of work goes into a book's release even after the writing is done.  Editing for proper grammar and consistency in the story.  Deciding on a font and size of print.  Coming up with a quick blurb for the back of the book or inside cover.  

However, before any of that can be noticed, a cover must be developed that catches a reader's eye and conveys an idea regarding the theme of the book itself.  With that in mind, the folks at Amazing Things Press have come up with a cover for my next book, Post Exodus, that I think fits this bill rather well.

As the cover isn't completely "official" yet, I can't publicly display the whole thing yet.  I can give out a little preview though.

There will be more to come over the next few weeks.  You can get more frequent updates on my Twitter feed and Facebook page.

Taking The Next Step

My first book, Dangerous Stars, was written, edited, and published by me.  Some friends and family members helped with reviews and suggestions, but there was no editing staff, interns, or executive assistants to do all of the menial work that comes after the creative process is finished.

Contracts have been signed and files transferred.  The wonderful folks at Amazing Things Press have agreed to the next steps for my new title, Post Exodus.  This means less physical work required of me to get the book released, but more effort once all of that is done.  Release parties, book signings, authors' gatherings, and other events will soon be filling my schedule.  I consider that a fair exchange.

The new book came from a simple question.  What if an apocolyptic event was predicted but never happened?  The majority of humanity was able to leave the Earth, but a few remained behind by choice.  Technology and major infrastructures were still intact, there just wasn't anyone to fill the space.

This is just a snapshot of how I think one small segment of civilization would change after the ultimate nothing happened.

 The door to the bedroom opened and a young woman entered just as I was feeling myself again. She had long hair of a light golden color. Her face was circular in shape without appearing puffy or pudgy. She had a classic beauty that was accentuated by a faint tan from working many hours in the sun.

She had on a simple dress with a white apron on over it. The apron had some small stains on it that appeared to be from being worn while cooking many meals between washings. In one hand she carried a bowl full of something steaming and a pitcher of water was in the other. Her voice was gentle and smooth. “I see you are awake. It probably isn't a good idea to try and get up too fast. It looked like you had a rather hard knock on your head when my brother found you coming back from collecting firewood. We tended to your wounds and kept you warm in the hopes you would heal.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Not very long. My aunt found you early in the afternoon the day before yesterday. My sisters and I brought you here that evening and started bandaging your cuts and scrapes. This is the most awake and talkative you've been since then.”

“What about my bike? Did you leave it by the log I hit?”

“No. We figured you were doing something important by the way you were traveling. My sister brought your bike back while the rest of us carried you. It will need some repairs before you can travel any further though.”

“How bad is the damage?”

“Some cosmetic scrapes, about like you really. However, the front tire is severely dented and the handlebars are bent. Any other alignment damage would be up to you to find. You probably won't be able to find any replacement parts here, but there is a small town about a day's walk north that should have anything you need.”

“Thank you for all that you and your family have done.”

“You are most certainly welcome. Now, it's time for you to have something to eat. This is a thick broth that we've been carefully spooning you since you got here. Would you like me to feed you again, or do you think you are up for doing it yourself?”

I'm not sure, but her tone of voice when offering to feed me seemed to hint that there was more than food being offered. “Thank you, but I think I would like to try to feed myself. See how much of my strength I have back.”

“Okay. It shouldn't be too hot to eat right away. I didn't realize you would be awake so I let it cool before bringing it up.

She set the bowl down on the nightstand next to the bed. Reaching underneath the bed itself, she pulled out a tray and set it on my lap as I positioned myself more completely on the bed. Once I was settled, she placed the bowl on the tray and pulled a spoon from a pocket of her apron. The soup was rather thick and creamy. It had a cheesy flavor with a hint of garlic. There was also a mixture of other flavors I couldn't quite name. There didn't seem to be any chunks of meat or pieces of vegetable in the soup. The soup's thickness and lack of other ingredients explained how it could be safely fed to someone unconscious without running the risk of the patient choking. The texture reminded me of a potato chowder my mother was fond of making.

The young woman pulled a glass from the drawer in the nightstand. She filled it with water in the pitcher she had brought in with her. “It is a blend of helpful herbs in a cheese soup that comes from an old family recipe. We make it thick enough to fill the stomach during a long convalescence. It's good enough we eat it as part of our regular meals now and then. Goes well with a bread we make ourselves and some of the pork we trade with nearby farms for.”

“It is quite good. I thank you for taking care of me and providing me with this fine meal. Once I am up and around again, is there anything I can do for you?”

“From all the letters in your vest, I guessed you are a messenger. We really don't have much need for you since our family is all on nearby farms. Since you will still be healing for another day or so, I will talk to the others and see if they can think of some way for you to repay us. Is there anything else you would like me to do for you?”

Between spoonfuls of the wonderful soup, I thought about her offer. Once again her tone suggested an invitation for something more than simple assistance. “The only other thing I would like while I'm here is the saddlebags that were on the back of my bike. Would it be possible for you to ….”

I suddenly felt extremely exhausted. I was way too weary for the amount of energy expended since I woke up, even taking into account my injuries. I barely heard the spoon clatter into the empty bowl as I fell back against the pillow and fell hard asleep. I will never be sure if what I heard as I passed out was her actually speaking or just my imagination. “You sleep now, we will see if you can give us what we want.”

When a release date is set, I will post it here and on my Twitter feed.  Until then, there is more work to be done.

Notes on Demons

I've never been one to use outlines for my books or stories.  Instead, I have a file of notes about the characters, story, plot details, and world where the story takes place.  Some of these notes are broad generalizations that frame the environment.  Some are simple comments about the direction the story is going or what kind of turn I want it to take.  Others still may be preferences or feelings the characters have that aren't obviously stated but come out through their actions and interactions with others.

Sometimes a story doesn't develop past the notes stage.  This may be due to an excess of clutter in my headspace, a lack of time to develop it properly, or just not enough story there to expand on.  One such story is one that I've had notes on for decades.  While there is a major plot conflict to base the story on, I just don't seem to be able to come up with enough to fill out the world it takes place in.  Maybe some day the rest of the tale will come to me in a dream.  In the meantime, here are the notes as I have them so far.  Derf is just a placeholder name I use until the character is fleshed out more and a proper name comes to light.

• Long life span of hunters, but not immortal. Just don't age normally.
• Communicate with "Hunter Council" via meditation and a special crystal
• Council catalogs Demons based on activity. Ranks them based on strength and shares information with Hunters.
• Smaller, weaker Demons not named, simple to catch.  Stronger Demons are given names and require more elaborate rituals to satisfy and catch.
• Each hunter chosen by "Hunter's Spirit." When one Hunter dies, the spirit moves on never know who will be next.
• Spirits don't clearly speak to Hunter, but can enhance vision to detect Demonic energies and give a Spidey-sense to hidden Deomnic presence.
• Number of Spirits is fixed, Number of Demons is variable, has gotten down to zero in past but increasing recently.
• Father/son team of Demon Hunters considered best in the realm, very rare for family members to be selected as hunters.
• Main plot point! Main character (Derf) must hunt demon that has taken his father
• Papa Derf disappeared while transporting crystal to "jail."
• Evidence of demons that had been caught by father-son team reappears.
• Demons are caught in and transported via crystals to one-way portal to "Dungeon Dimension"
• Demon possessing Derf's father is known as "The Corrupter" spoke to Papa Derf via the crystal
• Derf lives life alone except when hunting with Papa, chosen before starting a family.
• Papa Derf father of 3-5 kids, chosen after family started and years before Derf.

Leave a comment if you think the story should be developed further or left at this stage.  Suggestions for filling in any of the blanks would be welcome.

Post-Creation Coma

Another November has come to a close.  The National Novel Writing Month has finished for another year.  Thirty days where every free second is filled with writing, composing, and creating.  A month of reviewing outlines, defining characters, setting scenes, and creating just the right mood.  Mornings shift into afternoons, which then change into evenings and nights without notice.  Nights pass without sleep as ideas form and are molded and shaped before being put into place.  The deadline passing by means the steady writing can be put on hold, but the process is far from finished.  With the arrival of December 1st, a brief breath can be taken before the hard work truly begins.

The small number of days and large number of words in the challenge force an author to write at a pace that doesn't allow more than basic editing on the fly.  Many critical questions must be left for later consideration.  Does this scene work?  Should the affections between these characters be more overt or subdued?  Would it be more effective if the readers loved this person more before I kill them off?  What words or phrases can I use to increase the emotional impact of this passage?  All of these factors can take weeks or months of reading, tweaking, and rereading to get a novel to come out just right.

The holiday season is a great time to get out and remind myself what the outside world looks like.  It will be relaxing to participate in activities that don't require too much mental strain.  I can gaze at lights and admire decorations while refilling my creative juices.  It will certainly ease my exhausted mind to sing along with joyous songs heard so many times the lyrics are practically ingrained in my DNA.  Now, where did I leave that remote control?

Different Strokes of the Pen

NaNoWriMo is in full swing.  A month full of writers summoning forth characters from the endless worlds that occupy their imaginations.  Lives are created.  They begin and end with the stroke of a pen or press of a letter on a keyboard.  Worlds are created and environments come into being.  There are adventures to be had and enemies to be defeated.  Broad fields of story and plot lay before the creative mind.

There are any number of obstacles that must be hurdled when writing a story, whether it be a short read or a multi-chapter novel.  How do you define characters and give each of them a unique voice?  How do you choose a time period for your story and how does it affect the plot and lives of the characters?  Do you reveal histories at the beginning of the story, in little pieces as the story moves along, or leave some mystery for later stories?  How do you get the proper impact of various events across to the reader so it effects them the same way it effects you as you write?

One of the biggest challenges for me is writing just one story at a time.  Over my lifetime I have been struck by the thought of many ideas that would make good stories to tell.  Some of them are similar enough that they can be molded into one story.  Others are so vastly different they must each have their own tale.

For my current NaNoWriMo attempt I am writing a sequel to my first published book.  There are story elements I have been wanting to use in these and other sci-fi stories.  Relationships to develop, locations to discover, and things to happen in general.  Also taking up space in my mind is a story that comes from a world of magic and spells more than one of spaceships and lasers.  In order to clear out some of the extra clutter, I'm going to put some of the opening of the fantasy story here.  Maybe it will be my 2015 NaNoWriMo novel.

A robed figure slowly moves through a dark cavern.  The only source of light is a gentle glow from a large crystal in the center of the room.  The figure's features are hidden under the shadows of a deep hood.  He walks with a tall staff clutched in one aged hand.  Ancient runes seem to glow up and down the staff, reflecting the clear light from the crystal.  As he walks by the crystal, he reaches out his other gnarled hand to caress it as one would a longtime lover.  His voice, despite being as rough as a poorly maintained gravel road, clearly carried a degree of affection.  He speaks with certainty and conviction to the otherwise empty space.

"It is nearly time for us to rise again.  For centuries you have been building your reserves, growing in power, collecting the raw energy of life itself.  The eight recipients have been selected.  When the time is right they will be given access to you in order to bring about a new age.  They will be the beginning of real power returning to this world.  Power that is based on strength of mind and will instead of simple brute force and conniving manipulation.  Power the use of which can drain the user for a short time or eternally, depending on how it used.

"The chosen eight will gather others together and teach them to use this power.  Its use will quickly spread around the world.  Some will have a great talent and use their power for great things, others will only be capable of impressing small audiences with their simple flashes of skill.  Like other powers humanity has come across, some will use it for the betterment of those around them and others will use it only for themselves.  Some will us it for good, others for purely evil purposes.

"The power you have inside you was used many centuries ago.  Now it will be used again.  Magic will rise again on the Earth.  The modern age of electronics and technology will see the return of sorcery and magic.  Spellbooks will take their place alongside e-readers.  Teleportation will join driving and flying as a method of personal transportation.  The Digital Age will give way to The Age of Power"

The crystal's glow shifted as the man spoke.  It gives off a bright flash of light that fills the cavern as the man slowly ends his caress and removes his hand from the crystal.  He raises the staff and speaks an ancient word.  The robed figure vanishes from the cavern with no sign he was ever there.


With that piece of story out of the way, I have more room in my mind for my current tale.

Work in Progress-- Post Exodus

There are many books available about the Apocalypse.  Some predict what will lead up to the end of mankind.  Others chronicle the struggles of humanity after the majority of civilization has been wiped out.  A few even tell the stories of those attempting to prevent or avoid the End of Times.

What if all the nations of the world came together to avoid a planet-wide tragedy that doesn't happen?  What happens to those that remained behind?  How will humanity survive and change for the next few generations?  

These are the questions I ponder on my current work in progress, Post Exodus.  A young man leaves his family farm lands to travel the country.  He visits small villages and towns delivering messages and carrying packages in exchange for supplies and a single night's shelter.  

 The piked heads on the road and the fact the vehicles were deliberately headed to this dead end told me that these people knew more about the area than I did. Some inner instinct told me that me being a messenger is something that would only be discovered after it was too late to save me from a fate similar to those back up the road. A sense of fear mixed with a degree of curiosity about the people that could perpetrate such violence and not wipe themselves out within a couple of years. I felt the need to see these people more closely yet do so from a discreet distance. I picked up my bike and carried it as I ran to the edge of the road. There were numerous trees on each side of the road, plenty of places for me to hide until the oncoming vehicles left. I managed to get myself and my bike out of sight before the roaring engines changed into visible vehicles. I could still see the disconnected ends of the bridge and areas around the opposite side from my hiding place. As long as nobody in the vehicles looked directly towards me, they wouldn't know I was even there.

As the vehicles came into sight I could tell they had been modified. The three cars and one pickup truck looked nothing like the abandoned cars and trucks I had seen around my hometown and parked on the sides of some of the larger highways I had ridden across. These had sheets of metal neatly attached over the windows. There was also a person armed with a machine gun sticking up out of the roof of each car. There were two guys standing carefully balanced in the back of the pickup. Each of them was armed with a machine gun in their hands and what appeared to be a shotgun holstered to their backs. Everybody I could see was carefully looking around. Their hands weren't gripping the triggers of their weapons, but they were held close enough to quickly fire off a few rounds at a second's notice. It was clear this was no simple group out for a leisurely drive. They clearly had violence in mind. What I couldn't figure out was who they intended to be so violent to. They were the only people I had seen in a week, there was nobody around for them to victimize.

I kept myself absolutely still as the vehicles approached the end of the road. A large individual got out of the lead car. He was both tall and stoutly built. He didn't so much step out the door as he extracted himself from the side of the car. He walked to the very edge of the road. The river was flowing strongly far below his feet. After a few seconds of staring across the water he turned to the vehicles, looked stonily at them, and turned back to the opposite side of the river. He bellowed in a voice that seemed to come from deep within the Earth itself. I could hear his words echoing off the far bank as clearly as though I was right in front of him. He was calling for someone named Jack to get his hands out of his pants and raise the God-damn bridge. The threats being made to Jack's person if he didn't get moving were enough to make my skin crawl. If I hadn't been doing my best to keep still and avoid notice, I would have cringed with each word on Jack's behalf.