Yon 'fore the now, the then was a'here.
The beasties, an' ghoulies, an' ghosties ran freer.
Amok an' away, we hid from the day.
Runnin' at night, we doled out our fright.
Twas not of our own strife; we were spoken to life.
I be one o' the beasties what goes bump in the night!
Are our nightmares things of fantasy and imagination? Or does that which we dream of become real? What happens to a small girl when her nightmares do become real?
A short single.
Since then I have finished and published my first full length novel, Sherpa Holmes. To date she has earned 3 reviews, all 5 stars. Quoting the most recent, she wrote: One of those books where you are sorry that it ends...
And if you're waiting for an excuse to get your own Kindle copy, it will be on sale for only 99 cents starting April 16, 2014!
I've been working on what thus far is a short story called Things that Go Bump in the Night. My wife told me I needed to quit with the short stories, since they don't make me any money. Well, this one definitely won't, since I am planning on releasing it as a free single when it publishes.
Why? she wanted to know. Well, I spent almost 3 years researching, writing, and rewriting Sherpa Holmes. I was steeped in the language, history, and heritage of the Wild West, as well as that of the Navajo Indians (along with several other tribes) during that entire time. I had my characters with me at all times, even to the point of having conversations with them as I sat in my truck. (My coworkers still think I'm nuts.) (No, belay that. They're positive I'm nuts.)
So when it came time to move on to the next novel, I was still enmeshed in Sherpa's time frame and region. My cultures that I was now writing about kept sounding the same as those in Sherpa's time. So I needed something to cleanse my mental palate, as it were. Thus, Things became my mental cracker.
Where do I go from here? Finish Things, trot her off to my Alpha readers, then rewrite, back to the Alphas, rewrite again, then off to my editors. Will I begin to work on something else within that time frame? I hope so. Sherpa Holmes was fun, and I have begun to flesh out Sherpa II, but it is time to play with some different characters. I may even go with a totally different genre. I've been working in the fantasy genre for so long, I believe it's time to go with some military scifi.
Who knows? It all boils down to, "What if?"
I still have the urge to pull out Sherpa Holmes and work on that novel. But I cannot. I have only a few more days until the deadline for my alpha readers arrives, and I need to just leave that manuscript alone until they are done.
But Sherpa has been my life for the past 2.5 years now. That is what I worked on, day in and day out, hour after hour. Putting it away and moving on to something else has been difficult. Nay, impossible!
I've not written much of anything since I sent it off to my readers. I popped off that quick short story, and that's about it. I did open up my next novel, Cogs, and read what I had written up to now. At some point I fixed the beginning of it. Oy vey! What have I done? I ruined the opening. So I suppose I will have to go rip that apart and start over.
Well, there's a plan. *rolls up sleeves* Cover me. I'm going in...
Like all writers I am suffering from a need to write. I crave working on my novel. I want to finish it and get it into the hands of my readers. But . . .
So what now? I did snap off a quick short story and stuffed it in a folder as the lead story for Will Write SciFi For Food, Three. Wrote that in a lazy Sunday afternoon. Short stories have always been a breeze for me. (See Toys in the Attic.)
I have many ideas rattling around upstairs with my imaginary friends. I just need to grab a few and get them down on a page before I lose them. But which one to start with?
Who knows?
And who knows when I'll write another post on this. The mind boggles!
*KICK*
—ow!—I mean Cogs is incensed that Shalik is taking up altogether too much of my time as of late. She was my Golden Child until the Sherpa Holmes story took off...
"Oy, chica!"
"I do beg your pardon! But are you addressing me?"
"I don't see any other Latinas floating around, do you?"
"I am not a Latina."
"My apologies. Oy, squaw!"
"I am not a squaw, either."
"Then what are you?"
"Indian."
Cogs sighed and rolled her eyes. "That brings us back to, Oy, squaw!"
"Wrong type of Indian. I am from the Indian subcontinent—more commonly referred to by the Empire as the Raj."
"Well, la-de-dah!"
"I am quite sure that I do not need to be spoken to quite so rudely by a child."
"I am quite sure that you do. My story was going along marvelously until you showed up."
"Such an impudent little trollop! I believe if you continue being this rude to me, I shall be forced to take you across my knee and give you a sound thrashing!"
"You and what bloody army?"
"Why you impudent, little—"
"Shush! Whatever you are, you're hogging my limelight. You will cease. Now!"
"I am sorry, but I refuse to stand here to be harassed by a waif. Good day!" Shalik turned to stalk off. It was at this point that Cogs cocked back her arm and punched Shalik squarely in the nose. From there it quickly degraded into a full blown battle. Shalik may have been trained in hand-to-hand combat, but Cog's street smarts gave her enough of an edge that the fight was fairly even.
Meanwhile, as the two women pummeled one another in an effort to regain my attention as primary character, a group of men in full combat kit huddled off to one side. Alpha Company, (3-201st, 86th Airborne, Terran Confederate Army, "You point it out, we'll take it out!") sat in a small circle watching the proceedings as they ate their Rapid Heat Meals (spoken aloud as "Rahems"), pondering the fisticuffs.
"Sarge, should we intervene?"
Sergeant Baines glared at the PFC. "Who you gonna hit first? The lady, or the little girl?"
"I . . . uh . . . neither?"
"Right, moron. Besides, you know the LZ we're going into is hot. You in a hurry to get there?"
"Uh, no."
"Then shut your pie hole and do something useful, like sharpen your knife."
The PFC took his k-bar out and began to drag it back and forth over a whetstone.
It's never dull inside my noggin...
Why, yes--yes I do. But you're not going to like them.
Tip #1: You must write.
Tip #2: Don't worry about your spelling, your grammar, your punctuation, or anything else as you write along. You'll fix all of that when you rewrite. Right now, ignore your run-on sentences. Split your infinitives. Let your participles dangle out there for all the world to see. (It is usually at this point when I mention run-on sentences, infinitives, and participles that most people's eyes glaze over, and they decide that they might be better off going into a more honest line of work, such as politics, or bank robbing.) In the meantime, you must write.
Tip #3: Do not even worry about naming that character you just brought in. I have lots of rough drafts where my latest minor character is introduced as Josephine Schmuckatelli. For now, you must write.
Tip #4: That whizz-bang gizmo you just gave your characters to use in their daring escape? Never mind how it works, or what it's called. "Josephine pulled out her [INSERT TECHNO-BABBLE HERE] and fried the IRS Agent's head clean off." Fix it in the rewrite. Right now, you must write.
Tip #5: If you get an idea about something, get it down on paper instantly. Do not put it off to do research. Research can come later. Get the concept down before you lose it. You can go back and backfill any continuity problems that arise from this new idea on the rewrite. For now, you must write.
Tip #6: Turn off your chat programs. Turn off Facebook. Turn off Weatherbug, or whatever weather alert program you have. I don't care if you live in Tornado Alley. So do I. YOU MUST WRITE!
Tip #7: Okay, so getting the cat to stop licking your ear, or trying to sit in your lap while you're writing is an impossibility. Adapt and overcome. I can type with one hand--either side. If I can do it, so can you. YOU MUST WRITE!
Now, for the final three--and most critical tips. In order of importance, I present to you, tips 8, 9, and 10.
Tip #8: YOU MUST WRITE!
Tip #9: YOU MUST WRITE!
Tip #10: YOU MUST WRITE!
And there you have it. It's that simple. Worry about the nuts and bolts later on. Get a good editor--later on. Get a cover--later on. Format it for submitting--later on. Right now? Right now you are going get out there and write until you have no letters left on your keyboard!
Ignore these rules at your own peril. That most foul of monsters, the Doldrums, is waiting to take your Work in Progress to the Land of Unfinished Pieces. Your best sword to slay this monster is the Pen...or Pencil, or Keyboard--maybe even a quill! Heck, use a Crayon! But, WRITE!
OH NO! I had Writer's Block! That dreaded malady that puts terror in just about any writer. I went to multiple sites that spoke on how to get past the block. I tried dozens of tips and tricks—to no avail. I still had a mental block that was keeping me from moving forward on my novel.
So I took it on the road with me when I went to work. Every day as I drove down the highways I'd let my mind wander a bit and hope that some spark would jump me over that block. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into a month. I was starting to think I might have to shelf this piece, and go fiddle with something else. Speaking of fiddling, my Bostrom Air Ride Seat in the truck wasn't quite right. So I reached down to fiddle with the switch to adjust the height to where I needed it. Great. It got stuck in the full up position and—*BAM* I hit a seam in the road from one county to the next and jammed my head into the ceiling of the cab.
The words began to flow. No, not profanities—new words. For my novel! New ideas! A smooth transition from where I was, to where I wanted to go! YES! I was past the block!
So the next time you have a bad case of writer's block, try this: Get in a 80,000 lb concrete truck, run it up to 65mph, and jack your seat all the way up so when you hit a bump you slam your head into the ceiling! Hey, if it worked for me, it just might work for you! Maybe...
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