Spring Break: A Time for Writing

For those of you who have not been forced to participate in Spring Break at this late time - all of the free world, most of the second and third world, and the personnel of a few space stations - you may not understand what it is to suddenly have time to do nothing.

I'm not a fan of doing nothing, and I'd prefer to do something. One of the things that I did manage to do in the lead-up to this dreary week off* was spend a full week writing something new for the Washroom each day. None of it was groundbreaking, but all of it was original. By doing that, I did find myself feeling the urge to write more and more.

I finished the last major edit of "Melbourn's Storm" and submitted that for peer review. I completely restructured and restarted Chapter 4 of "The Wyrd Magnet" novel, and I added 14 pages (so far) to the novella, "Omega Man's Day Off."

I find myself quite pleased with how things are going. Even with a fairly full week of nothing ahead of me, I plan to keep writing. By the end of the month, I'd like to have the final draft of "Melbourn's Storm" ready to go. I am awaiting a chance to submit "A Chilling Wind," but the window for that doesn't open again until May 1.

So let me ask your indulgence. For the first time in several months, I'm feeling that urge to write. As has been noted, it's starting to pay off. If I seem a little more focused on writing and publishing, and a little less on reporting, scholarship, and politics, let it seem that way.

It's not that I've actually changed. The Sun, attending school, financial aid, and Democratic Party interests still captivate me. But for the moment at least, I want the world to see a little more of Nick the Writer, and not Nick the Journalist, Student, or Activist.

Feel free to fling a little feedback my way. I'm always happy to hear what y'all have to say.

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*"And there was much rejoicing." /  "Yaaay." - M. Python

Time Keeps On Slipping, Slipping, Slipping...

Okay, I admit it's more than a bit hackneyed to use a line from a overplayed 70's radio hit as one's blog-post title, but that's about all I could muster up this time.

To quote myself: "Oh. My. God. I'm tired." This particular census operation has proved to be mentally draining and even physically a bit brutal. In the past week, I've fallen asleep on the couch, while in the middle of a conversation with my girl; on my 'perch' on the porch - where I try to write, blog, tweet (or - shameless admission: play vast amounts of online RPGs if the muse - that bitch - hasn't struck me); and, last night, in the living room floor while playing with the dog.

I sound pathetic, I sound weak, and yes, I sound old.

I discovered about half an hour ago that it has been a week since I'd even glanced at this thing. I slept in today, and I'm still tired enough that I still haven't quite seemed to grasp the absence of it. Hm. Bad sentence, that. In other words I wasn't even aware that I'd missed it, because I didn't realize that I hadn't been there.

Still not much better. Oh, well. That's about the speed my cortex is functioning at.

I've missed two meetings of my writers' group because of this operation; I simply don't have the energy to consider driving into the North County right now. Frankly, I'm afraid of passing out while driving. As both the dog and my girl know...it could happen.

As of the end of the past month, I also missed a chance to submit my short story, A Chilling Wind (shamless plug - the link is here) to the "Writers of the Future" contest. I'd decided it was good enough to submit something for the first time, but now I'm going to have to wait several months to try again.

On the other hand, I've decided to step back and do a "reconceptualization" of The Wyrd Magnet - which might start showing up in a month or two. I've also worked out some of the kinks of another previously-mentioned short story, "Shooting Pool." And I've come up with something quite out there - something unlike anything else I've ever written. It's called "Dead Beld," and I'm feeling pretty strong about it. Tonight, I'm going to start working on it.

No, I haven't forgotten about Heroes... It's my pride and joy, but right now, my brain needs an injection of something else. I've decided to give it that.

Yes, my time seems to be slipping, slipping, slipping into the future, but at least it seems to me that it's not going away quietly.

Later, y'all.

Some Random Writing Notes - And More Things to Read!

This time out, I'm going to keep it short and simple - with only a handful of notes about the writing that I keep posting here.

First, I really want to thank everyone who reads the pieces and gives me feedback. It truly is invaluable. In return, I've decided that, if Heroes... ever gets published, I'm going to include you beta-readers in the acknowledgements. (Yes, I know...I'm dreaming big!) I call that the least I can do. I've know everyone here who's done it, and I've got a list of people who have sent me emails and Twitter DMs with feedback. I also have a list of who has done it in the past. If you want to be included, join in.

Second, "Chapter 3 - Sloan" has been put to bed, and moved up into the corner with "Heroes... So Far." I'm not quite ready to graduate Melbourn there, but I will be in a day or three. Furthermore, I'm progressing with "Chapter 5 - Harbordown By Day."

Third, I've posted two new works in the WIP section next to this. The second chapter of The Wyrd Magnet is up, but I've left the first one up as well. I think they're better together, and might give a slightly better sense of what I'm up to with it.

I've also posted the prologue for Conduit - which is the newest working title of what I have called Spans Forever and The Bridge Across Forever. None of the titles really appeal to me. Maybe sometime down the line we'll have a contest to name the damn thing, because I've just about given up on it. The prologue is just a teaser, a little bit of the oddness to come.

I'm not even quite sure how to define Conduit. It's basically a refining of what has been a multi-year writing exercise for me. In the past, when I was blocked, or bored, and simply needed to write something, I went back to that and wrote. The product, as it has been written so far, is terrible. But I think there's good stuff to be had inside it, and that's what I'm working on bringing out. I don't know if it will be a novel, a series, a serial...I just don't know. But by putting it here, I'm pretty well committing to doing something with it.

That's it. I said I'd keep it short this time. Oh, all right. I'll make it easy. Links below:

Conduit: Prologue - Obelisks
The Wyrd Magnet: Chapter One - Sub-culture
The Wyrd Magnet: Chapter Two - Let's Go

Meet Martin Black

I believe this is the first time I've ever shown, displayed, posted, or shared anything from this particular part of my creative mind. It falls pretty solidly into the "urban fantasy" genre, and is the only thing I've written that does. Its working title is The Wyrd Magnet.

I actually don't usually care for urban fantasy; too much of it reads like everything else. For all I know, this will, too. Anyone familiar with Simon R. Green's "Nightside" series may sense some comparisons. I'm cool with that; I dig the series almost as much as I dug his "Hawk and Fisher" series. But, I actually wrote this first chapter about a year before the first "Nightside" book came out. Like some of my other work, this was based on a dream. (In fact, most of Chapter One was from that dream.)

I don't know if y'all will like this at all. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I know I've got another entire chapter written, two more somewhat written, and a few planned out. The problem? They're all out of order.

I'm going to post this here, but I'll most likely only post updates in the left-hand side column. Let me know what y'all think about Martin and his world.

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The Wyrd Magnet

Chapter One - Sub-culture

Club Houngan was the busiest nightclub in town, even on a Wednesday night. My cab made the turn onto Briar and pulled to a stop fifty feet or so away from the front door – about as close as we could get. A heavy line of black limousines waited, their drivers lurking protectively near them. The line to get in, which began around the corner, ended in an honest-to-God red velvet rope which was manned by a pair of bouncers that could moonlight as walls. A long canopy ran to the corner, keeping dry those fortunate enough to get inside within the next few hours or so. The rest covered themselves with umbrellas, coats, or fashion magazines. I glanced up through the car window at the three-story high building with a garish neon sign of a smiling voodoo priest atop it. The ugly red and white light of the sign reflected on the rain-slick pavement. This was the hottest club in town, and I’d just been told that an old classmate of mine owned it outright. Stranger still, that old classmate needed my help.

“Thirty-one twenty,” the driver said, turning down his pounding tech-metal music. He turned to face me. “Make it thirty-one. I don’t need your twenty cents.”

I gave him a pair of twenties: “Keep it.”

It was a decent tip, not enough to be extravagant, but enough to ensure the next time I needed this guy, I’d get him.

“Thanks, man.” The driver pushed a button and unlocked the doors. I got out and did my best to smooth out the wrinkles in my shirt and overcoat. I ran my fingers through my hair and strolled toward the head of the line. A couple of things were certain. The first is that I was at least ten years past the freshness date for this club, and I was making a bad situation an egregious one by not showing up with a bauble on my arm. The second thing I knew was that the bouncers weren’t going to be able to do a goddamn thing about it.

To continue:
http://www.writersownwords.com/washroomannex/work/268/

Why April Has Been Such a Bother

This month has proven to be a challenging one. It began with the loss of my grandmother. She'd been in a nursing home for quite some time and everyone in the family knew that she would soon "pass on." When she did, there was no surprise, but it was still heartbreaking. She was the grandparent I was closest to, and the last remaining one I had. At my age, I've been fortunate enough that I haven't lost anyone in my immediate family. I still have my parents, my brothers, my nephews, and my niece. I've never lost a girl I was particularly close to, though I have lost some good friends.*

I received the news on Wednesday morning, approximately 15 minutes after I'd been given my first freelance newspaper assignment for a small paper here. This pretty well shoved the assignment to the back burner - though it needed to be done. The hardest part of losing my grandmother was knowing that I wouldn't make her funeral. She was buried in Arkansas, where she lived, and as everyone here knows, I'm a current resident of So-So Cal. There was no way to justify the expense of spending money on plane tickets to fly home for a Saturday funeral, and return. I don't like flying anyway, and I'd not go alone. If I went, I'd take my girlfriend. But only a few months ago, she lost her grandmother and decided to remain here instead of returning home to Maine. Complicating things further was the fact that she couldn't take off work and I had work training to begin the following Monday. No, there was no way to attend the funeral - and frankly we couldn't afford it.

Instead, I just grieved for her here. And I wrote the piece over the weekend. And I posted "Chapter Two - Dunbar" here on Sunday night. And I started training to work with the U.S. Census as a temp worker on Monday.

During that time, a remote control fell onto my laptop and unbalanced the cooling unit. I took my notebook to the best computer geek I knew in the area, and we checked it out, but there was nothing we could do. Without going to a Toshiba dealer to crack the case and get deep into the guts to replace the unit, I'd just have to deal with it. This became much more difficult to do as I had less and less time available.

The thing began to overheat; the fan made high-pitched clicking noises. I couldn't risk melting it, so I had to rein in my computer usage to almost zilch. I pretty much gave up on Twitter, and I was unable to update here the entire time. All these applications pull a fair amount of power and sent that cooling unit into clicking overdrive.

I trained in Quality Control for the census for 3 days, tested on Thursday, and went to work 3 hours later. I worked for a week and was offered a promotion on Friday. I say this to underscore that I've been working my tuckhus off for the past couple weeks.

Things will still be hectic for some time. I don't know how long this job will last, and if I'll be able to continue through the summer and into the fall. I don't know exactly what I'll be doing or who I'll be working for. But for the moment I'm working.

At the moment, I've bought a cooling pad for this thing. It's hot today - really hot. We have the windows open and a breeze moving through, which is our preference. But the air is hot and dry, and my notebook has only made slight clicking noise a couple of times, early on. I think it's going to be okay. This may work as a short- or long-term work-around. That means I'll be updating here again, but the updates may be shorter and more sporadic than they were.

I'm currently working on "Chapter Three - Sloan," which might get posted this week. I've also got a piece tentatively titled Wyrd Magnet or Regret, which I may start to post as well. And though I've not been able to use this notebook, I've actually been working on a longer piece at nights. I may begin to post part of it as well. For the moment, I'm calling it Spans Forever.

Hopefully by the end of April things will seem a little more normal. I appreciate all of you who have hung in there and let me know you're wondering how I'm doing, or worried, and I particularly appreciate those of you who have checked in to make sure I was still breathing. I still am; I'm just breathing a little hard.

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*I've also lost a bunch of "buddies" - guys that wouldn't be bothered at all by the fact that I'm about to say that some of them died in events that should have been Darwin Award runners-up. Remember, most of my buddies are from the South, where the most common last words are "Hey! Watch this!"