I’ve decided to post excerpts of my published work on separate pages. From now on, readers can click on any of the pages for the books I have out and read excerpts from the final drafts of each novel/short story collection. So if you’re interested in getting a sneak peek at The Quiet Game, Reborn City or Snake, you can scroll above, click on any of the pages for those works, and find a link to an excerpt.
I hope you get a chance to take a look at them. Each excerpt is carefully selected to give you an idea of what you might be reading should you decide you might want to purchase a hard copy of my published work (or e-copy, as it is these days).
I’m signing off now, but I want to let you know at some point during the week, besides more countdown posts for Reborn City and the usual Weekly Exercise, I also plan to write a reflection piece or two on themes in writing and perhaps a special Halloween post. Oh, and my last review till the Doctor Who 50th anniversary special.
Until then, have a good night everybody! See you later in the week and happy reading!
I didn’t get to do this with The Quiet Game (I forget why), so I’m doing it with Reborn City. Guess what:
Yes, seven days! Reborn City will be coming out November 1st in both print paperback and e-book formats. It’s been a long process, but it’s finally almost time! And I could not be more excited. Well I could be but I’m pretty sure it would involve illegal drugs, so I’ll stay at my normal levels of excitement.
You know, it’s been over four years since I first sat down and started writing Reborn City. I had an idea for a novel–possibly one with a sequel or two–on the way home from the library while listening to a CD with a lot of rap and rock music. I stopped by a Dairy Queen for a treat and started thinking about how to develop this idea, which had street gangs at the center of it and a sci-fi twist. Then at my sister’s birthday, after the cake and presents had been put away, I started writing some notes down in a journal. Then I started researching, and typing a manuscript, and then after many breaks and a lot of painstaking work over the course of two years, I finished the manuscript. Another year and a third of editing, eight months spent emailing chapters to my dear friend Matt Williams and making more adjustment based on his suggestions and the final copy was done. Finally I created a cover on CreateSpace (which you can see above) and I sent it all off to the copyright office.
A few months pass by, a book trailer comes out, and now we’re finally at the end of this long journey. I’m hoping for wonderful things to happen with this book. I’ve poured a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into RC, and I hope people really like reading it. It’s not as scary as some of my other work, so that may appeal to less fear-loving readers. And it’s sci-fi dystopian fiction, so considering today’s market that’s good to have.
But there’s more to it than that. The novel tackles some powerful themes, like racism and Islamaphobia, drugs and gang violence, and a number of other issues. And I’m hoping its those themes that will resonate with readers and help them fall in love with characters, rather than some dashing heroine and a couple of good-looking guys rebelling against a government that’s pure evil (how many franchises did I just describe there? I think I got Twilight in there too).
So without further ado, I’m going to give you guys a treat in honor of RC coming out. The first treat is the RC book trailer, which is right underneath the next paragraph. Immediately following the video is an excerpt from Chapter One of RC, for all your reading pleasure. I hope you like the video and the excerpt and that you’ll be interested in reading the actual book afterwards.
Also, if you haven’t already read them, please see my interviews with Zahara Bakur, Rip, and Jason Price, three very important characters from Reborn City. They’re very amazing people…though two of them did threaten to kill me for various reasons.
Reborn City, former Nevada
28 Anno Bombus (2056 CE)
June 28
Zahara and her family had decided to eat out at a restaurant in North Reborn that served kosher meat, the closest they could get to halāl. “I know it’s for Jews mostly, but it’s a very nice place and the Jews were very nice to us in New York.” Zahara’s father, Emir Bakur had said when he’d suggested it. “They know they don’t have to fear Muslims anymore. And the Chaplinsky family in 4F was nice enough, right?”
However Emir had taken a wrong turn on the still-unfamiliar streets and highways and they had somehow ended up in West Reborn. The sight of the place gave Zahara chills, and it just wasn’t the reports of gang violence: the area had a grittiness that Zahara didn’t like. The cold brown houses, the rusty lamp poles, the cracked, light-grey concrete. West Reborn looked unkempt, uncared for, like the city had kept up the other areas of the city but had forgotten about this one. The only buildings that looked in any good condition were casinos, bars, and strip clubs, displaying three-dimensional holograms of cash prizes and sexy women drinking beer while looking at passerby with bedroom eyes. The sight of them disgusted Zahara.
In the front of the car Emir and Aaliyah were arguing, trying to figure out how to get back to where they were going. Zahara closed her eyes and tried to let the music from her filepiece filter into her right ear. Surrendering to the small device, she wondered if she’d ever get out of this city and get back to New York where she belonged. Somehow, Zahara had a feeling she would never come to like Reborn City, no matter how much she lived here.
After a few more minutes of her parents arguing about which direction, Zahara opened her eyes again, prepared to tell them they should just check their phones for the directions. Her eyes widened as she saw an arm swing up from the sidewalk and throw a rock at the windshield. The glass cracked as the rock rebounded off the windshield and into the road. Aaliyah and Zahara screamed as Emir braked the car and jerked at the steering wheel. The car skidded to a screeching halt, the nose pointing towards the middle of the road.
Zahara saw her father unbuckle his seatbelt and before she could stop him, stepping out to inspect the damage. “What in the name of Allah—?” he said, but stopped as he heard the click of a jackknife being opened. He turned around and saw two men, one of whom was holding a long, deadly-looking blade. Leaning forward in her seat, Zahara could make out the details of the two men: both of the men had a ruddy tan complexion, were wearing green clothes, and had looks on their faces that said they did not like making new friends. On the neck of one Zahara could make out what looked like a tattoo of a pitchfork with a sombrero hung over the right prong.
One of them, who was large and muscular, spoke to Zahara’s father. “Hand over yo’ fuckin’ money an’ yo fuckin’ car.” he said with a Spanish accent. “Ya got that?”
“Sure!” said Zahara’s father, holding his hands up defensively, looking so unlike the corporate lawyer he was. “Just take it easy, okay? Just take it easy—!”
“Hurry the fuck up!” said the other man. “Who ya think yo messin’ with, estupido?” This man was thin and gangly and had a strange leer on his face, like he would rather punch Emir than talk to him.
“Okay, okay!” said Emir, backing back up to the door and turning off the engine. Zahara’s mother Aaliyah saw this and as her husband stood back up out of the car, unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the car door.
“Mother!” said Zahara in English. Aaliyah looked behind her to where her daughter was sitting on the edge of her seat, fists balled in her lap, chewing her lower lip. “Don’t go out there!” Zahara hissed; Zahara rarely used English with her parents and she was only using it now because she didn’t know if these two men in green were fans of Muslims or not. Either way, it was not a good time to find out.
Zahara’s mother looked at her daughter as if she’d gone mad. “I don’t have a choice, Zahara.” she said in Arabic, pushing a loose lock of hair back under her hijab. “Our car is being stolen.” She opened her door and slid out of the seat. Zahara watched with disbelief as her mother closed the car door. Did her mother think things would go peacefully?
Suddenly the skinny gangster stared at Zahara’s mother and pointed at her hijab. “Hey Manny!” said the skinny gangster. “Check out the headscarf. Musulmàns!”
The fat gangster, Manny, stared at Zahara’s mother, then turned back to Emir, his expression livid. “So, you thought you’d get the jump on us, huh?” he said, thrusting the knife at Zahara’s father. “Fuckin’ terrorist! Let us jack ya car an’ explode us too?”
Zahara winced. Fuckin’ terrorist. She had been right, these two men hated Muslims.
“No, that’s not it at all!” said Emir, looking terrified as the skinny gangster pulled out a gun. “Please, you have to believe me—!”
“Shaddup!” yelled Manny, stabbing Emir in the belly. Emir went rigid as the knife plunged into his belly, then collapsed as Manny pulled the blade out. Blood poured out of Zahara’s father, pooling around him in a big red circle.
Aaliyah screamed in horror, staring at her husband as tears flooded down her cheeks. “Emir!” she cried. “Emir—!”
The skinny gangster pulled out his gun and shot Aaliyah in the forehead; her eyes rolled into the back of her head as Zahara’s mother fell lifeless to the ground. Zahara gasped, trying to keep her tears and screams inside herself. If the gangsters saw her they’d kill her too. And maybe…just because she was a teenager and a girl…they’d do other stuff to her, too. Zahara shuddered to think of what they’d do to her if they did that too.
Manny was kicking Emir’s lifeless body casually, making sure he was dead. “Think they’d play us, did they?” he said to his companion. “Fuckin’ terrorists.”
“Yeah, well they’re shittin’ in hell now.” said the skinny gangster. “Shows what happens when ya mess with Diablos.”
“Yeah.” said Manny, looking up from Emir’s body. “Come on, let’s go—wait a minute.” Manny’s piggy little eyes fixed on Zahara in the backseat of her parent’s car. Zahara squeaked as Manny took two steps towards her. “Yo, Che. Come check this out.” Manny called to his friend, followed by something in Spanish. Zahara nearly froze up as she realized she’d been discovered.
Quickly Zahara unbuckled her seatbelt, threw open the car door and ran, throwing her filepiece as a distraction. Manny and Che jumped back as the filepiece hit the ground, probably thinking it was a grenade or something. By the time they realized their mistake, Zahara already had a head start on them. They set off after her, angrily yelling in Spanish at her. Zahara turned around, saw them catching up, and ran faster, determined to get away.
As Zahara ran, bumping into people and flying past holograms, she began to cry; her parents were dead, she was miles away from any familiar place and with no familiar people to help her. The heartache she was feeling was so intense that she could just keel over and die, but she wouldn’t die here, and she would not let herself be caught by the gangsters chasing after her. She’d get out of West Reborn, find the house (she still hadn’t thought of it as “home” yet), and then she’d call New York and get help. Or maybe kill herself. Either way, she had to get out.
The gangsters were only a few feet behind her. But a few blocks ahead there was a police station. Maybe, if she was able to get there, she’d be safe. She could tell the police what was going on, they’d arrest her parents’ murderers, and then she could go back to New York—
Suddenly Zahara tripped on a shifted slab of concrete and fell. Thrusting her hands out in front of her, Zahara cried out as she scraped her hands and knees. She tried to stand up again but then someone grabbed her shirt from behind and yanked her up. Zahara stared into the faces of Manny and Che, the Hispanic gangsters who had murdered her parents. Che grabbed Zahara’s arms and twisted them into a painful armlock.
“Hello, Little Miss Terrorist.” said Manny. “Thought ya could get away so easily. Thought the po-po would help ya out. Wrong!”
Both of them laughed cruelly, and Manny brought out his knife, holding it close to Zahara’s jugular. The blade gleamed with the blood of Zahara’s father still fresh on it. Che and Manny laughed harder at the expression on Zahara’s face. “The po-po are just pussies.” said Che. “Fuckin’ pussies. They couldn’t catch us an’ throw us in the clink, an’ they would never help a fuckin’ Musalmàn. Besides, even if they would, them assholes can’t see us. It’s dark out, ya know.”
Manny pressed his face close to Zahara’s, grinning wickedly. The foul smell of his breath wafted over Zahara’s face, making her want to puke. “And the nearest streetlamp is right ovuh there.” he added, cocking his head in the direction of the lonely streetlamp.
With a great effort Zahara twisted her head away from the knife. “Somebody help me!” she screamed.
“No one’s gonna fuckin’ come to your rescue, Little Miss Terrorist.” said Manny, pressing the blade to Zahara’s neck; a little bit of Zahara’s blood trickled onto the knife, mixing with Emir’s. Zahara whimpered as Manny pressed his face even closer than before, so close she could see the pupils in his beady eyes. Behind her Zahara could feel Che’s hot breath on the nape of her neck.
Suddenly Manny’s free hand swooped down and grabbed the button on Zahara’s pants, undoing it in an instant. His hand reached into her pants and began feeling around.
“No, please.” said Zahara, tears spilling from the corner of her eyes. “Please don’t do this—!”
“Shaddup!” said Manny, looking up from what he was doing; Zahara felt the blade of the knife dig a little deeper into her neck. “Ya shaddup an’ try ta enjoy it. Maybe aftowards we’ll let ya kill yoself, got it? But no bombs; ya might hurt someone.”
Che giggled as Manny worked Zahara’s pants off, exposing her white underwear. As he did Zahara felt the fight go out of her. She was going to die and painfully too and at the hands of her parents’ murderers. She’d never see her friends again, she’d never see her parents again, and like the two men had said, no one was going to help her—
“What ya mothas doin’?” said a voice. Zahara looked away from Manny as a figure dressed in a black hoodie and jeans stepped into the lamplight. Manny paused and then stood up, pulling the knife away from Zahara’s neck.
As he did Zahara felt her energy disappear. Black edged into her field of vision as Zahara strained to discern the face of the newcomer. But the darkness took her and Zahara couldn’t see his face. The last thing Zahara thought before she fainted was that she would’ve liked to see the face of her potential rescuer.
That, and how embarrassed she was that her pants were lying uselessly around her ankles.
It may break some hearts, but I’m taking a break from writing. And believe me, I don’t want to. I’d rather be sitting on the couch writing short stories, novels, articles, and blog posts, celebrating afterwards with whatever book or TV on DVD I have at hand at the moment.
Just a couple problems. One is that I’m a full-time student with five classes all assigning a ton of homework at the same time. I hate it, but I have to attend class and get my homework done on time. And that’s time consuming. Plus I work about ten to twelve hours a week, and I have responsibilities as resident manager of my building, and I have a ton of reading that’s piled up so I want to get through it before it’s all due back at the library and–somebody stop me!
In any case, I have too much to do to write my fiction regularly. So for the time being, I’ll be restricting my non-school writing activities to some light editing, the occasional blog post, and Weekly Exercises. Yes, I know it’s terrible. I know you want to cry. But dry your tears, it’s only temporary. I’ll probably be free to write again soon. And Reborn City is coming out soon, so there’s no reason to fret. There, all better right?
Honestly, I have no idea who I’m comforting. I’m just trying to see if I can make someone laugh.
Well, until the next post (whenever that may be), have a good evening folks.
It is Wednesday of Week 8 of the semester here at Ohio State, putting us squarely halfway through the semester. And as is my custom on this blog, I’m letting people know how I’m doing right now.
Love it at my school!
Right now I’m at work taking my lunch break. Work’s going well, by the way. I work between ten and twelve hours a week, and now that busy season is over, we’ve kind of fallen into a routine that’s quieter than the summer and early fall but stil busy and full of things to do. Actually some of my biggest fans are at work. The head of the Financial Aid department keeps telling me she’s going to buy two print copies of The Quiet Game when she shops on Amazon next, one to read and one for me to sign and keep in pristine condition forever and ever. She just has to find time to shop on Amazon, which is hampered by her very busy schedule. She’s also looking forward to reading Reborn City when it comes out in November, as well as some of my coworkers. I’ve got to love the people who work here!
My classes are also going well. I’m taking five courses right now, and my favorites are without a doubt my Science Fiction and Fantasy literature course and my Holocaust in History course. I learn a lot from my teachers and the discussions are always stimulating and we all have fun, especially in the Sci-Fi/Fantasy course. My one class I’m struggling with is my Biology course, but I’m meeting with my TA a lot to talk about points I’m having trouble with and improve my grades. Hopefully by the next midterm in that class I’ll be Super-Student.
Not likely, but I’ll get as close to it as possible.
I’ve also applied for a Study Abroad trip in May to Europe to see some of the more important sites of World War II Europe. I don’t know if I’ll get in yet (I won’t find out till next week at the earliest), but my GPA is high enough and one of my former teachers wrote me a stunning letter of recommendation, so I’m hopeful. I’ll let you know if I get in.
And at my apartment things are also peachy-keen. My roommate Morgan and I get along very well and we divide up our duties both as housemates and as resident managers for our complex very well. Sometimes I even cook for the both of us, though that doesn’t happen often because Morgan’s studying to be an engineer and has a bigger courseload than I do, so he’s often on his own schedule and I’m on mine. It’s sad that we can’t hang out as often, but I’m okay with it. Besides, there’s something on every night on TV, so I’ve got pleny to occupy my attention.
If I could change one thing about this semester though (besides how much I have to work on my Biology coursework or get a winning lottery ticket), I’d like to attend clubs more often. I attended a couple of club meetings for the English Undergraduate Organization and the Science Fiction club at the beginning of the semester, but somedays my homework load piles up and I just don’t have the time or the energy to go. Especially when some club meetings, like for the sci-fi club, are on the south side of campus and I live north of campus. The only place I can regularly go to that can be considered club-like is OSU Hillel for Friday night services and dinner, but beyond that nothing much. Hopefully for the second half of the semester I might find more time though. Depends on a number of factors, but I’m hopeful.
And finally, some updates on my writing. Video Rage has less than twenty chapters left till it’s completed, so I’m trying to get as much done as possible when I have the time. Laura Horn is still a long way from being completed, but the chapters are shorter than the ones for Video Rage, so I should complete that by midway through the spring semester. The Quiet Game is doing as can be expected for a first-time writer being published, which means it’s close to reaching 50 copies sold. Reborn City is still coming out on time, so that’s something to get excited about. In fact, I plan on doing a bit more advertising for it as the week goes on, so get prepared. Also, Snake is still getting its final draft looked over by author Angela Misri of a Portia Adams adventure, but it should be ready by spring or summer 2014. There’s something to look forward to. And last but certainly not least, I’m already planning what to write after I finish the first drafts of Video Rage and Laura Horn. I’m thinking I’ll do a lot of short-story writing, maybe put out another collection. I also want to write something with a big supernatural influence that is longer than a short story. We’ll see what happens when I finish the WIPs, though.
Well, my lunch break is just about over, so I’m signing off. I’ll let you know if anything happens when it happens, and I hope you have a nice day. Blog on you later!
Some of you may be wondering what the scariest chapter I’ve ever written so far must be. I write scary stories, so it must be something gruesome. What could it be? Monsters? Evil spirits? Something not of this world or any other world we know of?
If you guessed pure, human evil, then you were correct.
I’ve written several times on this blog that one of my works-in-progress, Laura Horn, has a teenage girl and a survivor of sexual assault as its protagonist. Naturally, the question came up of whether or not to actually show her sexual assault in the novel. I’m not sure when I decided on that issue, though it was probably when I wrote the outline for the novel. But I decided to show her assault, devoting Chapter 17 of the book to it.
The past few weeks, where I knew it was only a matter of time till I reached that chapter, were not terrifying, nerve-wracking, or exciting as I expected writing a sexual assault would be. Instead, I just felt a sort of…acceptance, I guess. I’d committed to writing that sort of scene, and when I finally got to it, I got to it.
And last night, after finishing Chapter 17 of Video Rage, I took a short break, and then I started writing Chapter 17 of Laura Horn. Today, after finishing up my homework and meditation class, I did the last of it. and now the first draft of that chapter is complete.
I don’t know if what I’ve written will resonate with readers or feel real to them. I wrote this scene based on testimonies and memoirs by rape victims that I’ve read, the articles I’ve read on the statistic and psychology of rape, more Law & Order: SVU episodes than I dare mention, and my own overactive and sometimes unhealthy imagination. (Those last two I’m not sure you can count as credible sources). But if I’ve done my job right, then I will be able to put the reader directly into Laura’s state of mind at the time of her assault, make them understand what she’s been through and how it’s affected her three years after the event when the story takes place. And only then will the readers really understand who Laura Horn is, and truly be able to empathize with her.
And speaking of which, I’ve had trouble at certain points of writing this story getting into Laura’s head and understanding her both as a character and as a person. But having just written the formative event of her young life, I now can truly get into her head, understand her motivations, her thoughts, were obsession with avoiding drawing attention to herself. So hopefully writing the rest of Laura Horn will be a little bit easier.
However, that doesn’t change the fact that this is the scariest chapter I’ve ever written. In fact, it scared me personally, because I was terrified of the fact that I could conceive this scene and then write it down without losing my stomach. Even now, I’m wondering how screwed up I truly am to write such a scene. Considering how many times Stephen King’s written that sort of scene, I can say I’m fairly f***ed up.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever do such a scene again. However I do believe that when Laura Horn makes it to print, whenever that is, if I’ve done my job right, then the readers will feel the fear I wish to convey. And maybe they’ll understand the terror and trauma of rape victims. Maybe the book will help people who’ve experienced sexual assault. Maybe it’ll cause some people to think before they say someone deserves to be raped. I don’t know if any of that’ll happen, but it’s my hope that it will.
And now I’m going to take a break from writing. I’ve done a lot in the past 48 hours, and I’d like a little break before I pick up with Video Rage Ch. 18. I’ll need to recharge my batteries, especially after writing that sexual assault scene.
The life of a college student can be really crazy sometimes. Some days I just want to sit down and write, to finish the next chapter in one of my works-in-progress, or maybe a blog post or an article, or a short story. But first I have classes to take care of, and the homework that comes with them can’t be put off until the last second, and I work ten hours a week, and I have to cook my dinner and do my laundry, and I like to watch TV and read a book in the evenings, and I finally managed to find time to get a haircut today, which took some time from homework, but I got that done–where the heck is this train of thought going?!
Suffice to say, I’ve been crazy busy lately. And what’s the worse is that I just want to sti down and write. I’ve been hammering away at my computer on a chapter of Video Rage for about three days now, and I’m not halfway from finishing it. And I just WANT TO FINISH IT! And after that, I want to do another chapter of Laura Horn, followed by Video Rage or a Weekly Exercise, I don’t know. It depends on the day.
But you know, I got my priorities, and until those are out of the way, becoming the next HP Lovecraft will have to wait. The good news is I’m used to working on stories while being swamped with work, so I should still be on the usual production schedule (the first draft of a novel being done in six months to a year). So for now, I’ll keep working as hard as I can, when I can, where I can, and hopefully I’ll be able to get everything I want to get out as soon as I can.
At least in theory. I can’t get copyrights right now, thanks to the federal government shutting down here in the United States (thank you Congress! You’d all fail kindergarten if you had to go back there for a day!). And you know me, I like being insured in case of plagiarism or theft.
Well, I’m off to make a simple dinner and settle down for a nice, relaxing evening of writing and watching The Big Bang Theory and Scandal. Hopefully I’ll get this chapter of Video Rage done too!
Today is October 1st, 2013. The countdown for Reborn City‘s release begins. On November 1st, war will break out, a great conspiracy will be unraveled, and I might stop writing this like it’s the script for a Hunger Games trailer or something!
But truth be told folks, I’m really excited. It’s been nearly four years since I first sat down and started writing Reborn City, and now it’s finally hitting the market. And I don’t care that the government here in the United States has shut down, impacting my chances of getting my copyright notification by that time. It’s still coming out, and it’s going to be awesome!
For those of you who haven’t seen the Reborn City series page yet, here is the summary of the book, which is the first in a trilogy:
Zahara Bakur is a Muslim teenager recently moved into the gambling town of Reborn City. After her parents are killed by gang violence, Zahara is forced to join the Hydras, an interracial gang whose leaders have supernatural abilities. As the violence in Reborn City escalates and Zahara becomes closer to the Hydras, including the quiet but stern Rip, she finds herself drawn into a dark conspiracy involving the origins of the leaders and the shadowy corporation that rules over Reborn City.
Sounds cool, right? Right? Anyone? Bueller?
Anyway, I’m really looking forward to publishing this. Only one other person has read it in full, and tat’s my friend and fellow author Matthew Williams, who enjoyed the book very much when I asked him to take a look. Coming from a full-fledged science fiction novelist, that’s mighty high praise.
I’m going to be doing all sorts of advertising promo posts during the coming month. I’m even going to be doing interviews with the characters. Yes, you read that right. I’m going to be doing interviews with the actual characters of Reborn City. They’re going to appear in my messy bedroom, and we’re going to have a nice chat and talk before I send them back to the year 2056. It’ll be cool.
In the meantime, please check out the Reborn City book trailer video below. I hope you get as excited as I am just from watching it.
Oh, and before I forget, I’m working on RC‘s sequel Video Rage even as we speak. It’s coming along great. I’m somewhere around halfway done with the first draft. Once it’s done, it may take a year or two to actually publish, but I hope to get it done soon, so people who like the first book won’t have to wait long. Wish me luck!
Well I got my homework for today done, so I decided to work on a chapter of Video Rage. It was actually a chapter I started on Wednesday, but I’ve been so crazy busy lately I’ve barely been able to spend any time working on it. I finally finished it this evening while eating dinner and watching the Ohio State-Wisconsin game, showing that on occasion I can multitask (though I wouldn’t do it while in the car).
The thing is, this chapter that I just finished is a very important chapter in the book. At the end of Reborn City, I revealed something about a certain character that left a big mystery for the next book (I’m not going to say what that mystery was or what happened at the end of the book, but trust me when I say, it is big!). Here in this particular chapter I reveal the answer to this mystery, and it killed me that it took so long to write it! I mean, I really wanted to get this big-mystery-reveal down on paper! And the fact that it took nearly four days makes me want to freak out like Eminem in a feud with another rapper!
On the bright side, I did get the chapter written. It’s about 9 8.5″ x 11″ pages, and a little under twenty-four hundred words. And I think I did very well resolving the mystery. And with the completion of this chapter, number fifteen to be exact, I have about twenty-two left to write. At the current rate I’m writing, I might finish VR at some point between late December and mid-January.
Now I’m going to take a little break from writing and maybe take up Chapter Fifteen of Laura Horn later in the evening. I’m getting close to writing a very important chapter of that novel as well, though I’m a few chapters away from doing so. I hope I get to it soon, it’s going to be worthy of a blog post when it gets written.
Today I was walking back from running an errand. The streets were packed with people here to see the game between Ohio State and Wisconsin and drink and have a good time. There were people selling food and T-shirts and Buckeye gear all over the place. I barely noticed any of it. My mind was turning over other things: money and school, my two biggest worries in life these days.
I’m not going to unload my problems on this blog, at least not this post. That’s not what this post is about. But I will say that even with a job and some side gigs and the little money I get from writing, life’s still expensive. Tuition, rent, and groceries is what I pay for the most. And I wonder, as plenty of other people around the world and from all walks of life wonder, how I’m going to write it all.
And as I’m turning all this in my head, walking to the ATM to make a deposit and then head home, an idea for a short story pops into my mind. It’s more magical realism than horror, but I think to myself, this sounds like a crazy good idea for a short story. I can base it around my own life, giving it an authentic touch. And I get to include some monsters in this story too! Imagine how much fun it’ll be to write that sort of story! A bit therapeutic too, that’s always good for the mind, body and soul.
Now I’m at home, writing up this post before I start on a paper for my English class. I have to say, writing about this had made me happier, even as it had occurred to me that it make my family worry about me because I’m blogging about money woes while talking about an idea for a short story involving my money woes. But like I said, I feel better writing about this, and if it guilt trips someone into buying my work, all the better.
I probably shouldn’t have written that last sentence. Oh well.
Now I’m wondering, does anyone else write about their problems? Do they use fiction of any sort to release and share their problems? I’m pretty sure there are plenty of literary authors who do just that, but I don’t usually read literary fiction. I bet there are plenty of other writers who include their problems in their genre work,, but none come to mind at the moment. But I think that stories like those are probably some of the best. It’s someone sharing their life, having a conversation with themselves and with others through a fiction story. It feels real, even if there are vampires or knights in shining armor or other weird things in their stories. And those sort of stories are the ones where people can really identify with the authors and the characters, because they’re thinking to themselves, I’ve been in that situation before, and it sucks.
Well, I’ve got the idea stored away now, so when I’m done with Video Rage and Laura Horn I’ll be able to remember it. I’ve got a little over thirty different ideas for short stories written down right now, so I’ll definitely have plenty of stuff to write about when I finish my two current works-in-progress. I could even write another, longer collection of short stories if I wanted to.
Hmm…another collection of short stories. Not a bad idea.
Until then though, I’ve got a paper to work on. Wish me luck! I’m aiming to get an A on this paper. I’ll settle for a B if I have to, but an A’s the goal at the moment.
Do you ever incorporate your life’s problems into your fiction? How do you do it? And what has been the result of that?
In a recent interview for his new book Joyland, Stephen King mentioned that one way he starts a story is that he starts with an image. In the case of Joyland, the image was of a boy on a beach with the sun setting. It took a couple of years apparently, but that image expanded to include a theme park and that’s how His Scary Highness came up with what would become a summer bestseller.
These past 24 hours I had a similar experience that allowed me to come up with an idea for a story. It started last night as I was going to bed. I was hypnotizing myself to sleep (yes, I know how to do that) and one of the commands I gave myself to help facilitate sleep was to let random images form in my head, “as if from a dream”. And among the images that formed was one that just struck me in a deep, deep way, like a line from a book that seems to resonate with you on so many levels, that for reasons you can’t understand, you find that becoming your favorite line in the whole story.
I wish I had an illustration or something to show you what I saw in my head. Unfortunately I don’t have the time to draw an illustration, let alone draw one and scan it into my computer, so I’ll try to describe it for you as best as I can: a girl, in her mid-to-late teens, with shoulder-length blonde hair and a black crown on her head with two twisting spires poking up to the sky. She wore a glittering black dress, like Glinda the Good Witch gone Goth. She stood on a glowing white staircase made of glass, and stars were shining aroundher. Her smile was warm and confident, and her eyes were alive with happiness.
Amazing what sort of things you can get from dreams. Am I right?
Well, you know me. If I can get an idea for a story, I will. So I quickly added to those hypnosis instructions, “If you see something you think you can use for a story someday, you will remember it in the morning.” When I woke up the next morning, I didn’t remember the image at first, but I did remember as the day went on. And as I had a rather unusual day (don’t ask, you don’t want to know), I had plenty of opportunities to develop a story from this image.
I thought that the image would work best at the end of the story, I had to figure out how to get this story from the beginning to the end. For that matter, I needed a beginning! Not too hard, I have a way with coming up with sh*t situations to put characters in at the start of their stories. I thought of a way for this girl in the black dress to start out, even gave her a name that I thought suited her. Then I worked on a catalyst…how about she meets a guy? No, it’s been done. Attacked by a monster? No, I’ve used that for stories before. Let’s go back to meetings. What meeting haven’t I used yet? Oh, that one will work (I can’t say what because that would give away just too much).
So what next? We’ve got a set-up. What happens after that fateful meeting? Something happens, something scary. Should I use an original mythology of my own making or taken from someone else’s mythology? Let’s go with the latter. Greco-Roman? Jewish? Celtic? Egyptian? Japanese? Native American? Okay, why not a combination? Mix and match…now we’re cooking.
In the end I manage to come up with a pretty nice story that uses some interesting monsters from mythology, come up with some interesting ideas for characters, conflicts, and even a monster or two (or three). And I wish I could go into details here, but that would give away too much. You wouldn’t want to read the book when I actually write it.
Did I actually do something he couldn’t? Probably not. But it’s nice to think so.
But isn’t it amazing? One image, and I have a wonderful idea for a story. I wasn’t sure exactly if you could come up with a story like King said he did, but I ended up doing the exact same thing…while saving a lot of time. I mean, King took years to come up with Joyland! I’m glad I saved the time on coming up with the story. And I hope someday I can do it again.
In the meantime, I’ve got a chapter of Laura Horn to start. I seem to have all the time in the world to come up with ideas, but none of the time to actually turn them into full-length novels. I should use the time when I get it.
Has this ever happened to you? How did it work out?
Rami Ungar The Writer 