It's a Nice Place to Visit but I Wouldn'nt Want to Die There.

Snippet #2.  Chapter seven is important in that this is where Clay meets his main sidekick, Mark Raft, the sole survivor of the hell tree* invasion in the small desert town of Bixby.

* Too big to fail, this benevolent vegetation will steal your soul for your own good.

So far the story has focused heavily on Clay and the solo portion of his journey. This has meant an absence of dialogue which is usually what I enjoy writing most. That's not to say that I believe Clay's exploits have been boring up to now but it will be a relief for him to have someone to talk to. All I have to do now is get Clay into town and find out how they meet up.

 This is giving me a run for my money. A good portion of a day and three previous failed attempts at beginning the chapter have resulted in these few paragraphs.

..................................

A thirty five mile speed limit sign marked where the state highway took a break and Prospect Boulevard intervened for a quarter mile. A diesel filling station, truck stop, and restaurant greeted southbound travelers to Bixby. Curbside telephone poles diminished down both sides of the boulevard where single story stuccoed store fronts vied for attention with tourist friendly signs.

Vehicles lined the curbs while others parked haphazard in lanes with doors left open. The three palm trees of the Three Palms Liquor store lay in ruin across the boulevard with two vehicles and the facade of the Desert Apple Book Store crushed beneath.

So quiet was it that Clay could hear the rustling of a newspaper as a gust flittered it past. Nothing stirred but by the wind, not even the hell trees encroaching throughout the town.

I'm givin' 'er all she's got, Cap'n. Without another 30,000 words, she's gonna blow!

Okay, I'm taking another look at Sunder's 90,000 word projection. As it stands now, I have 16,000 words and Clay, the guy we're rooting for, has yet to meet his Samwise Gamgee, Mark Raft. I'm now writing chapter six which turns out to be the place where I had thought I'd be by the end of chapter three according to my outline. Things seem to be getting a bit deeper than I anticipated at this point. You still with me, amigo?

My point is that I've got several more chapters to write in part one which is the shortest section of Sunder's three parts and I've already completed a sixth of the projected word count. Now imagine this, part two* is supposed to fill about half the book. That doesn't take into account part three which will have all the super cool big bang answers to life, the universe, and etc.

Crap, do you think I may have underestimated the length by just a tad?

*That's the part with all the nasty zombies I've been promising.

The Devil's in the Details

Ain't that the truth. Sometimes, writing seems to be nothing but details.

MC does something with a something.
Where did he get the something?
Oops, better go back and find a good place to show that the something is already in his inventory.
Rats, he doesn't have anything to keep his inventory in.
Best go back four or five chapters and show that he has something to keep his somethings in.
A baby sealskin leather bag with Bald Eagle talons stitched around it will do nicely.
Excellent, maybe now I can get on with the story.
Crap, I just remembered my MC's a PETA vegan.
Why would someone like that have a leather bag to keep his somethings in?
Okay, from now on, MC's a hamburger loving mercenary.
At last, everything works and I can get back to the story.
Now what the hell was I writing about?

SUNDER FIRST PEEK

Here's a snippet from chapter two. Remember, this is a first draft. I had to stop myself from reworking the chapter when I was looking for a section to post. Aside from going back to make spelling corrections, I'm trying very hard to keep moving forward with the writing and leaving revisions for the second draft.

~

The Jeep wound it's way through the canyon as the late morning sun blazed upon the red and yellow sandstone of the upper most portion of the eastward facing walls. Coming to a stretch that narrowed to barely the width of a man, Clay spun the car around pointing it in the direction they had come and killed the engine. 

“We walk from here,” Clay said, exiting the Jeep. 

Nat looked into the narrow rock passage as a worried frown crossed his face. “We're going in there?”

Clay slipped a key into a waterproof lock box bolted under the driver seat. “Yep, but it'll open back up before you know it. It's a pretty cool place once you get used to it.”

“I don't know. What if there's a mountain lion in there or something?”

“Then he'll need to find another place to hang out until we leave.” Clay pulled a nylon holster from the box and clipped it to the right side of his belt. Next from the box came a medium size revolver which, after opening the gate and giving the cylinder a spin, he holstered.

Nat's expression showed less frown and more worry. 

“There's nothing to fret about, Nat. I always carry a gun when I'm out in these remote spots. It's just sort of a security blanket for scaredy cats like me.”

“You get scared, Grampa?”

“Well sure I do. It's beautiful out in the wild but it ain't all that hard to get spooked now and then with all the solitude. A gun can be a real comfort at those times. The thing you need to know is that, in all the years I've spent in places like this, I've never needed to fire it at a living thing, not once. So get that look off your face and let's go see a wonder.”

Truth be known

Truth be known, I'm primarily writing Sunder so I can watch that blue line on the progress bar grow.  Today's 1,200 word count turned out to be the entirety of chapter three. The journey begins tomorrow.

DAWN of the UNDEAD

The latest issue of The Writer magazine showed up in the mail this week. The titles of several articles were on the cover, one of which caught my immediate attention. DAWN of the UNDEAD Zombies are the next BIG thing in fiction; an award winning writer tells how to bring them to life.

For seven or eight months now, I've been laughing at myself and feeling like a fool for choosing to base part two of Sunder (part two is the really big part) on the Romero zombie formula. Then here comes this article pointing out the fact that I have somehow managed to stumble into the hot new genre of zombie fiction. Having stumbled there, I guess I better recover my balance and write the best damn part two I can.

BTW, I finished the first draft of chapter two today. No zombies yet.

"I could've swore this was the right road."

I had several possibilities for chapter two -Sunder-. A brand new idea was to have the grandson abducted from his home instead of later at the portal like I had planned. Being a shiny new idea, I ran with it. It was really exciting stuff with a mad chase across a lightning riddled landscape amidst a terrible otherworldly storm. I'd knocked off 2,200 words before it dawned on me where exactly this path was taking me, straight to awkwardville. Everything in the second half of the chapter that had been planned to occur naturally at it's own pace would now become forced and out of step. Scratch a day's writing. Time to start chapter over.

Next time I get one of my bright ideas, maybe I'll think it through a bit before charging in like Custer. Sure I will.

NOAH'S RAFT #1

I was researching something a while back and noticed a curious fact about the fall of the Western Roman Empire. That being that the year of the fall was 476 AD. That's precisely 13 centuries to the year before the 13 American colonies declared their independence from the world's greatest empire, Great Britain. (Let's not forget Adam Weishaupt's Illuminati was also founded in 1776.)

Coincidence or deliberate execution of a centuries old plan?

I imagine there's been some interesting theories put forth on this of which I haven't as yet come across.

If you have any information relating to this or want to chime in with your own theory, do so.

The truth is still out there.
Mark Raft

9/4/10

Sunder First Draft

My first draft for Sunder is underway. Chapter One took a while to get down and now that it's finished, I see why it's said that the first draft should just be written down the way it comes out without revisions. (At least, I think someone said something like that) Before the chapter had ended, I'd already figured out parts of the chapter that will probably be moved over to later chapters in the second draft. I had given the chapter extra work so that wouldn't happen. Live and learn I suppose. Onward with chapter two.