WindyCon and NaNoWriMo
I went to WindyCon, a Chicago-area con, this past weekend. It has a nice little Writer's Workshop that I've participated in the last several years. This time I submitted a short story that I've always considered one of my best, but that has collected a series of form rejections. The group at the workshop loved parts of it, but pointed to a fairly long list of plot flaws I had missed, which was a little ego deflating, but VERY helpful. The flaws are all fixable, now that I know they're there. Excellent experience. Exactly what I needed.
The NaNoWriting is going well. The goal is to write 50,000 words in the month of November. I'm at 37,704 right now, and am hoping to get to 50k this weekend.
I like this novel. The old writing adage is to put your characters in a lot of trouble. I'm certainly doing that. Every major character is in one enormous world of angst. Now all I have to do is get them in position for the climactic struggle, off at least one of the bad guys and give the hero a tolerable end. Giving the hero a tolerable ending will be the hardest part. This guy will only be happy if he gets his wife and kids back. The rules of the universe as he knows them makes that impossible. He may or may not figure out how to get them back in a future book, but it isn't going to happen by the end of this book. Here is an excerpt from a recent scene:
Greg noticed a familiar face at a nearby table, a woman in her early twenties. She glanced at Greg and hastily turned away. It took him a second to place the face. Candy. And she obviously didn't want to be recognized by Greg. She sat alone at the table, with a backpack in the chair next to her and a history text book in front of her. She stared at it for several minutes without turning the page. Greg glanced at her from time-to-time, not entirely certain it was the same woman. Her dress was loose-fitting and her make-up light. She did still have the librarian glasses, apparently for reading rather than just as part of her costume. He tried to avoid looking at her, but she was directly in his line of sight and his eyes kept wandering over.
Finally she snapped her book closed and wandered over. "Didn't your momma tell you it's not polite to stare? Obviously you recognized me."
"That I did. Going to school on the side?"
"The other stuff is on the side. Look, this is kind of embarrassing."
"Two nights ago was kind of embarrassing. I'm getting over it, I guess."
"It's a job. Waitressing doesn't pay all of the bills. I don't need a sermon."
"I'm not going to preach. Definitely not your guy for that. Doesn't this sort of thing happen a lot?"
"My clientele doesn't go to libraries a lot and they don't look at my face a lot. So no, this is a new and unwelcome development."
"I'll tell you what: I'll move to the other side of the table so you know I'm not staring at you and I'll read what I'm reading while you do your studying."
"Sure." She didn't move though, just stood at his table. Finally she sat across from him. "You were nice the next morning. I'm sorry you lost your wife. I guess I should have asked what happened."
"It wasn't an open-my-heart type of situation. I probably wouldn't have told you." He smiled at her. "I'm okay with you not asking, under the circumstances. Most of that night I would prefer to blot out of my memory. Actually, I can't think of any part of it I don't want to blot out of my memory."
"And the next morning?"
"That didn't entirely suck."
She smiled back, tentatively. They fell silent. Finally she said, "I need to get back to my history." She didn't move though.
They sat awkwardly. And now what do I say? Greg thought about asking her about her class, about her background, but didn't know how to start without sounding like he was prying.
"My name isn't really Candy."
Greg laughed. "I'm shocked. Disillusioned even. I don't think you even asked my name."
"It wasn't a formal introductions situation."
The NaNoWriting is going well. The goal is to write 50,000 words in the month of November. I'm at 37,704 right now, and am hoping to get to 50k this weekend.
I like this novel. The old writing adage is to put your characters in a lot of trouble. I'm certainly doing that. Every major character is in one enormous world of angst. Now all I have to do is get them in position for the climactic struggle, off at least one of the bad guys and give the hero a tolerable end. Giving the hero a tolerable ending will be the hardest part. This guy will only be happy if he gets his wife and kids back. The rules of the universe as he knows them makes that impossible. He may or may not figure out how to get them back in a future book, but it isn't going to happen by the end of this book. Here is an excerpt from a recent scene:
Greg noticed a familiar face at a nearby table, a woman in her early twenties. She glanced at Greg and hastily turned away. It took him a second to place the face. Candy. And she obviously didn't want to be recognized by Greg. She sat alone at the table, with a backpack in the chair next to her and a history text book in front of her. She stared at it for several minutes without turning the page. Greg glanced at her from time-to-time, not entirely certain it was the same woman. Her dress was loose-fitting and her make-up light. She did still have the librarian glasses, apparently for reading rather than just as part of her costume. He tried to avoid looking at her, but she was directly in his line of sight and his eyes kept wandering over.
Finally she snapped her book closed and wandered over. "Didn't your momma tell you it's not polite to stare? Obviously you recognized me."
"That I did. Going to school on the side?"
"The other stuff is on the side. Look, this is kind of embarrassing."
"Two nights ago was kind of embarrassing. I'm getting over it, I guess."
"It's a job. Waitressing doesn't pay all of the bills. I don't need a sermon."
"I'm not going to preach. Definitely not your guy for that. Doesn't this sort of thing happen a lot?"
"My clientele doesn't go to libraries a lot and they don't look at my face a lot. So no, this is a new and unwelcome development."
"I'll tell you what: I'll move to the other side of the table so you know I'm not staring at you and I'll read what I'm reading while you do your studying."
"Sure." She didn't move though, just stood at his table. Finally she sat across from him. "You were nice the next morning. I'm sorry you lost your wife. I guess I should have asked what happened."
"It wasn't an open-my-heart type of situation. I probably wouldn't have told you." He smiled at her. "I'm okay with you not asking, under the circumstances. Most of that night I would prefer to blot out of my memory. Actually, I can't think of any part of it I don't want to blot out of my memory."
"And the next morning?"
"That didn't entirely suck."
She smiled back, tentatively. They fell silent. Finally she said, "I need to get back to my history." She didn't move though.
They sat awkwardly. And now what do I say? Greg thought about asking her about her class, about her background, but didn't know how to start without sounding like he was prying.
"My name isn't really Candy."
Greg laughed. "I'm shocked. Disillusioned even. I don't think you even asked my name."
"It wasn't a formal introductions situation."