12/19

The Shadow over Portsmouth: 62,459
Player Choice:
120,080

The day’s first thousand words are always the hardest.   At least for me. I’ve been reminded of this over the past several weeks.  It’s something that you can easily forget, but that you shouldn’t– because knowing that fact gives you power.  You then know that once that 1K has been achieved, the rest of the day’s count will flow easier and faster.  You know that you do want to keep going, keep riding that train of word-lovin’, because the next day you’ll be back to the difficult task of the first 1K again.

 

 

Beyond 50,000

A month later.  I certainly did get sucked into the NaNo vortex.  And I’m proud to report that I won, with a grand total of words over 50,000, including a tacked-on ending.  (Your NaNo book should technically have a beginning, middle, and end.  I’m still missing quite a bit of latter middle, though.)  But this is no return to the normal world, as has been the custom for my last several Decembers.  No rest for the possessed.  You see, I want to keep going.  I feel like these characters and this town deserve to have their story continued while it’s still on fire in my easily distractable (distractible?) brain.  But what to do?  The NaNoWriMo site is still active but is no longer accepting words– the game is over for another year.

I’m going to make this my new wordcount logging site.  There’s something about being able to put your latest numbers up someplace after a writing session (or occasionally in the middle of one).  Rejoice, gentle readers– you’ll be witness to the daily current wordcount of not just one novel but two:  The Shadow over Portsmouth (only a working title), this year’s NaNo project, and a book called Player Choice (also only a working title), which has been in the works for, well, a long time and has been subject to frequent grinding halts, including the most recent halt that occurred on October 31 at approximately 10:49 pm.

Player Choice is the one that I’ve long regarded as the most probable candidate for my first fiction book to be published.  It has, however, been dragging for a while.  Benjamin has demanded to see a draft by Christmas Day or else daily harassments will begin.  (I’ve made a similar demand of him for a draft of his novel in progress, Ar– whoops, almost dropped a secret there with the title.  He may not be willing to put it out in the open yet.)  So in essence, another game has begun, at least as far as Player Choice goes.  A smart fellow would concentrate his energies entirely on Player Choice in December, yes?  And leave The Shadow over Portsmouth for later.

I have this crazy idea, though, that I can do both.  (It might have something to do with having a rather light freelancing schedule right now.)  So folks, without further ado, here’s our starting wordcounts, at 12:00 pm on December 1:

The Shadow over Portsmouth: 51, 327
Player Choice: 100,410

Now you might look at that latter number and say “Holy crap, you’ve already got a whole pile of words for Player Choice— time to wade in there and start cutting!”  But I already know for a fact that about 25,000 of those are destined to be deleted.  So we need some more bulk beforehand to make up for that impending gouge.  An ending to the book, for example, would really be helpful.

Onward!

New Frontiers, Once More

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Here once again at the precipice of something new, or rather, having already flung myself or been flung into the void.  I am now Jeff Deck the full-time freelancer, available for editing and writing jobs as you please, and continuing to speak on various word-related topics.  Perhaps even having the opportunity, from time to time, to actually work on the next book.  This maverick lifestyle will come with its share of knocks and bruises as I figure out the best methods of doing things– indeed there’s already a skinned knee or two– but that’s all part of the adventure, no?  I’ll try to detail what I’ve learned about the freelancing life, right here on the blog as I go along.

The event currently looming on my personal horizon for now, though, and on the horizon of Benjamin D. Herson, is the imminent release of The Great Typo Hunt in paperback.  For that I should post some buttons around these parts to encourage the purchasing of said product– for I am, as always, merely a greasemonkey for the engine of commerce– but for now you can find them on the main Great Typo Hunt page.  We’re also conducting a 50 Typos, 50 States contest in which several fabulous prizes can be won if you share your typo pictures.  Exciting stuff.

Meantime, if you find yourself in need of editing or writing services, turn to someone who’s been in the word-crafting game for a while now through various outlets, and… hey, where are you going?  I’m talking about me.  E-mail jeffdeck [at] jeffdeck.com with inquiries.  My rates are reasonable and my turnaround is swift, swift as a rushing brook.  Yes, this is one thing that I have learned already…

Freelancer Lesson #1: Be ready to promote yourself, especially with nature-themed metaphors and similes.

People love nature.  Thus people will love you if you compare your skills and business practices somehow with the aroma of fresh pine.

In debt and in denial

Early August:  You know it’s bad when even John McCain, he of the infamously rubbery spine in the last decade or so, has a few epithets for the Tea Party crowd. (Though his quoting of an article that referred to those folks as “hobbits” was a little off base. Hobbits are the good guys.) They gambled for their cause with the very economy of the country as their chits. And now we see the consequences of brinkmanship, as the nation’s credit rating begins to be downgraded and the stock market tanks, investors turning their fond thoughts to places like France and Canada as real rocks of solid return.

As a writer, it’s hard to mine this material, for the villains here are so cartoonish in their malevolence and their distortions and naked greed that they would make for less than believable characters. The impulse is still there; you have to use your particular skill somehow for the greater good, yes? Is that not a familiar theme? But how do you hoist these zealots by their own petard?

Late August:  I wrote the above a few weeks ago and forgot about it.  Since then, satire has shown itself to fail in the face of these absurd antagonists as well.  The Onion put out an article from Michelle Bachmann’s point of view that is easily one of their weaker efforts.  It just sounds angry and frustrated, rather than sharp.  Maybe the mushy brains of the Tea Party have an enmushening effect on even their critics.  Party on.

Waning Summer

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I have to say, Jane and I have done pretty well so far at squeezing every succulent drop out of summer. We’ve gone camping twice and to the beach numerous times (it helps to live on the seacoast!), not to mention family barbecues. I’ve been burned at least a few times. And there’s a block party tonight.

But you, gentle reader, are not as interested in what I’ve been doing as you are in what I’m thinking, I assume (if you’re interested at all). Summer, then, has been on my mind, as fiction setting and/or device. In the horror series I’m planning, which is set in the fall (as most of my horror attempts end up being set), the recently bygone summer is like a lost world, when all the tourists were still in town and before the trouble started. In other story drafts, summer is a skipped-over period mid-story, like in those TV shows that in their fall season premieres come up with some hasty sketch of what happened to the characters during the summertime (usually not much).

Sometime I’d really love to write a book that captures summer, because it can be a compelling setting if done right, particularly for adventure. Summer itself always seems to slip away imperceptibly, but an individual day or night during that time can stretch on forever. The physical dimensions of a summer night seem infinite. Maybe, when I feel that I’m finally up for the task, I’ll put on the Clientele’s God Save the Clientele album, refer back to Crowley’s Little, Big for instructions on how to cast a seasonal spell, and dive right in.