Knee Deep in Words

I think it's interesting that in the past two weeks I have gotten the bug to write words. That, with the latest events of my life, I'm now abuzz with the need to write. To finish my second novel, to twist, warp it, into something that exists, even if it's not good.

I just passed 275 pages into the novel, while I have no idea how long it's going to be, what twists it will take. The truth about the novel is that I have the general feeling of where it will go, but this was originally a two book series that I was trying to stretch out to three.

The problem came with that I had introduced too many characters and gods and a ton of events and characters I'd have to cut away that I froze for six months on what to do next. Eventually, I realized I should just push, wrap all my ideas into a workable project and then dissect it and bring it all about. Maybe it's the wrong way to go about it, but it's what works.

But now that I've thrown myself head first into it, I am losing a bit of the control - some of the events are falling away so that my ending is in flux. I'm not sure what it will come out to be, whether or not they'll end in 20k/30k or even 50k words. I'm enjoying it thus far, even if it is a bit middling right now.

Fifty thousand words in and no idea where to stop.

Wish me luck!

Heartbreaking . . .

Kylie from Connecticut by Ben Folds
It's just a thought
But where did it come from?
What does she do with it
If it comes back?
A note from his assistant
There by the telephone
She sees it again
As she turns out the light

Kylie is calling from Connecticut
She says you've got the number
It said:
Kylie is calling from Connecticut
It's there on her mind
As she closes her eyes

She believes
There are things you should know about
When you've been married for
Thirty-five years
And her heart belongs to a man
That she hadn't seen since
A magical night when the children were small

Kylie is calling from Connecticut
She says you've got the number
It said:
Kylie is calling from Connecticut
It's back on her mind
As she closes her eyes

Kylie is calling from Connecticut
It's probably nothing
Yeah, nothing at all
But
Kylie is calling from Connecticut
It's all coming back
As she's reading old letters
That she hid in the closest
With the pictures she'd cherished
That she kept to herself
For a good thirty years
As she closes her eyes

Link (Live performance)

There's just so much that can be pulled from the lyrics, as simple as they are. I can totally imagine this woman's life and circumstances that brought her to this place, laying in bed and silently worrying about "Kylie." A name from the past she had forgotten about for "a good thirty years" until this note came up. And that she would say nothing about it to her husband, a man she hadn't known since the children were young. But Kylie is that person that he always loved, never forgot and that it's still there, hidden amongst all the years that had passed.

Simple phrases bring about the most complex ideas. The melody is amazing and I cannot escape it. As time passes, it just seems to be building the images and lives of these people. It's almost an unofficial sequel to his songs The Last Polka and Missing the War from Ben Folds Five days, which deals with the failing marriage of these two people. As if they were neither strong enough to break away from each other and years later are miserable in their own rights, despite her love for him and has grown to depend on him. He's a comfort to her, despite her not knowing who he is anymore. He's there and that's all she really has now that the kids have left.

It's even grown since I began to write this post.

What do you guys think about it?

In the search of focus . . .

I'm sitting here, listening to music (which is now muted because Pandora can't seem to find something I actually want to listen to), watching History Channel that is a show on comedy, reading the Authoress's new e-book "Agent Demystified" and am trying to write my current novel right now.

What I need . . . is focus.

It doesn't help that when I sit down and try to write that I'm so out of practice over the last several months that I end up writing a few sentences and then moving onto something completely different. Or I get up and walk away. I just can't seem to keep myself focused.

That being said, I've written several pages today. Which is several more than I have in the past month. Perhaps two. Is that a bad thing? Maybe. But I'm trying to keep myself down and working.

Now to turn off Pandora, close this, Agent Demystified, let Greg Behrendt finish his comedy special, turn off the TV, and grab my mp3 player so I can actually keep focused.

Maybe by the end of today I can actually hit two hundred pages. Only . . . twenty-two pages to go.

------------------------

Update: Focus did not come.

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.
-------------------------
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.