Back on Track?

Hey everyone . . . it's been a little bit. As you can see by the post below, I'm still trying my hand at the whole writing bit. I think I'm going to be finally getting back on track with the whole writing. Hopefully it'll get me back into my novel. My girlfriend (Miss Guilt in Black Panties) keeps telling me that I'll have it done by the end of the year - we'll see.

I really do hope I get it done. There are a couple of factors that are falling into the not category. One is that the holiday season is rapidly approaching (actually starting with this week)which means that dozens of games are releasing in the next month and a half - which means I'll be exceptionally busy at work which takes up most of my days. Plus I've been out of it for quite some time so hopefully I'll be able to ricochet back from my writing slump.

On the upside, however, I did just get a new laptop from Dell that will allow me to write whenever and wherever I feel. The last is the most important. I just can't seem to write when I'm at home, despite getting a two-bedroom apartment precisely for a writing/reading room. Oh well. Now I have my new laptop, I'll be able to write wherever, as long as I have some music to help inspire me and give me a rhythm to write to.

On a similar note, the Authoress is having a Secret Agent contest in which yours truly has been entered as Post 43. Please leave some good feedback for me. It is the first 250 words from my first novel, which Joe Keck is reading and editing for me currently, so it'll most likely be in very rough (and bleeding) shape when I get it back, but it needs it.

Until next time.

Justin

Stinging with a Purpose

Marise's hands stung as she silently walked down the street. No, stung was not the right word. Burned. They burned with a purpose she had not known she'd had an hour before. She had suspected it, something lingering in the shadows just beyond the periphery of her vision. This feeling though was a confirmation of all that she had suspected. There was a purpose for her art. And that felt good, this recognition.

The sleeve of her red jacket grazed the skin, lighting it afire. Every time something touched it, it renewed her sense of the larger picture. Her eyes had been opened and they now scanned the environment with a renewed interest she had long forgotten. Darkened alleyways were more alive with steam rising off the ground in droves. Hidden people revealed themselves to her now.

She had no place left to return to, so she threw herself into the darkness, becoming reborn in that murk and decay into something more. A figurehead. Her purpose would be revealed soon enough.
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As the underground released him from its grip, Pryor stood triumphantly in the dank air of the above. Not much had changed in the years since his last visit. He was not one to suffer the pains of a growing population. While the area had exploded in size, he could immediately tell that the place still was rife with moral decay. There had to be some way to awaken these poor slobs. To create something more in their petty lives.

And then she emerged from the darkness, making her way triumphantly straight into his arms. There she was. He had found his figurehead.