Hello writers and readers! Today I am going to talk about my writing projects and then share an excerpt from my most recent novel in progress.
Well, I’m happy to say that my newest novel has reached the 46,000 word mark today. Part One flowed amazingly well, but things get quite complicated in Part Two after one country invades another and I want to introduce some more characters — The Kings and Queens, the anarchists working undercover, etc.
Considering that the story is inspired by my four grandparents, WWII, violence in the world today, and just my usually weird mind… I have a feeling that I am going to need to give in & start an outline for Part Two. Sometimes, I can get away with writing as I go, or at least I think I can. Maybe it’s all just a figment of my imagination that being a “pantster” works for me. Maybe the whole writing process would be much easier if I always just created an outline first.
I would realistically like to have the first draft complete by this summer. Let’s say by June. I’m just so excited about it because it will be the very first full length book that I have ever written! And I want it to be the best that it can be. If it takes five years to polish up, edit, re-edit, and re-write before publishing, then so be it! Also, I really need to think of a working title.
An excerpt from this story is at the end. Based on my Grandma Maylard’s character. Comments – whether they are criticisms or praises – are always welcome.
The Short Story
I completed a short story back in the spring that is very close to my heart. I thought it was in that “ready to go” stage, but my amazing beta reader showed me otherwise. Honestly, the most important people in your writing career are going to be your beta readers. He picked up that my supporting character seemed a little weak (A prop) and he also noticed a lot of plot holes in the story.
You see, with short stories you really can’t skimp on the complexity of the characters and all the details that make it worth being a short story. In my mind, all of the details are there, but sometimes I think I can be a little light with description and too heavy on the adverbs.
It’s funny how writing mistakes seem so blatant when someone else points them out, but before that you could have read over it another 25 times and you still wouldn’t see it. Alas, I am excited to get into the nitty gritty of that story in due time.
So, there will be a lot of editing and adding to it over the next few months as well. My goal is to have it polished, beta read, and edited by this summer. 🙂
Yes, I’m actually going to write a story about… *Awkward moment alert*… me! Of course, I’m not going to make it blatant that this book is an actual autobiography. Me and the characters will have slightly distorted names and the setting is going to be quite whimsical and fantastical, but it will indeed be based on my life. Half of my living moments are spent in fantasy worlds anyway, so I thought it would be fitting to write the story of my life set in a different realm. People that know me will likely be able to piece certain things together and figure most of it out.
I’ll be working at it here and there, whenever the inspiration strikes.
Helena climbed onto the fence that lined the road to watch the marching soldiers. The time had come for them to leave the safety of their training camp and sail for Nesi. Many were not much older than she was, yet they were in such a hurry to fight as though death could never touch them. She knew all too well that no one was safe from mortality’s kiss of betrayal.
Remembering a document of her father’s that she had read over a year ago about the superior weaponry and fighting tactics used by the Nesins, she felt guilty for pitying herself earlier. If she were a boy, she might have become a soldier in a couple of years rather than continue to work as a miner. She shuddered at the idea of running through a volley of arrows or trying to escape from an enemy much bigger and more skilled than she. Perhaps the mines were not so terrible, after all.
The line of fighters came to an end. She watched as the last of them disappeared into the forest. Perhaps never to be seen in their own country again.