Writing Journal

Written 23 July 2017

So, there’s a really jarring jump in the first chapter between Susan struggling with her thirst and Adam’s arrival. She just completely drops everything that’s been tormenting her because she loses herself in the bike. I give the shift a half of a sentence and that is just not enough.

It’s got to be more gradual. The forces in her need to duke it out. The thirst vs. The mesmerizing, this Sunday, SUNDAY, SUNDAY!!!

Instead of one defeating the other, they should be neck and neck when he sits down.

Writing Thoughts

Originally written on 21 April 2017.

I’m avoiding writing fiction. I’m also avoiding working on re-doing the speech bubbles for the beginning of Fight or Flight. The gaming video and the blog and the shutting down of my LiveJournal have had my focus, not to mention the Disney trip and work and blah, blah, blah.

Second time I’ve sat in Fleetwood this weekend, and I haven’t written a word of fiction. Most of Friday was spent working, and the rest was finalizing the new home network.

Today, though, I’ve just been draining my phone’s battery “making sure videos and posts got to social networks.” That’s not another way of saying getting sucked into Facebook. Not at all.

And here I am, phone down, laptop put away, notebook open, and I’m putting down words, but none are fiction. Am I harshing on myself too much? Am I afraid to keep pushing at recovering my love for making stories? Am I just too distracted by shiny things?

That reminds me. Since it doesn’t look like I’ll have a pressing need to be in Chicago coming up, I’ll need to pick a weekend to roam the Detroit area. Holy cow, are a lot of my old people holed up int he suburban Detroit sprawl.

Should I put up in a hotel in downtown D-town, or should I couch surf, or a combination of the two? Guess I’ve got to pick dates first, before I even know who will be available. A three-day weekend, I’m thinking. Either take a day off, or work the Friday with Paul.

I can’t say that I’ll start writing on my little jaunt, either. It’s too long to put off writing until then, and it’ll put a ton of pressure on me to write, and that is kind of the opposite of the point of a vacation. On the other hand, there are a lot of places I’d love to sit and write in Detroit proper.

Shit, I think it’s time to start the Chicago Adam’s Name over and re-write it, now that I know who Susan is, and what kind of conflicts drive her. I may not know enough about real-world Chicago to know enough about my fake Chicago. I think it’s time to pester some Chicagoans I know, so they can school me on the Windy City. Research and world building are the answer, because of course they are.

Writing Journal

Originally written on 27 November 2016.

It’s time to page back through the current story to see where I’ve gone wrong. I’ve hit that point where a pause becomes a block, and nine times out of ten, it’s because I’ve taken things down the wrong path. I need to keep in mind that this isn’t an editing pass, but instead it’s a recon mission. Let’s go backwards.

First suspect is the most recent bit, after they come out of the coffee bar, having gotten the info they needed from Yeong-cheol. Susan’s rage and fear and protectiveness catch up with her, and she flips out on Adam.

That was the intent, anyway. I don’t think it came across that way. I do a lot of telling here, instead of showing. I’ve done that a lot throughout this first draft, and that’s all right, it’s allowed to suck.

Thing is, I know who Susan is. Yeong-cheol, for all of his borderline bullying, knows who she is. SUSAN knows who she is. She’s not questioning or discovering that, like Adam is. She’s not rediscovering it, like her sister is.

She’s made the choice to hold on to as much of her humanity as she is able to. She’s chosen to follow love, to follow her living family, knowing full well what the possible repercussions are. Her conflict comes from dealing with the end of things, and that she brought it about. It’s not Adam’s fault, it’s hers. He’s doing exactly what she asked him to do.

Her caretaking of her sister is coming to an end. Her connection to her living family, as a consequence of that, is coming to an end. Her obscurity among her “second family” is coming to an end. Her punishment is coming to an end.

Yes, these are definitely precursors to new beginnings, but it’d be bad to skim over the pain and learning that come with all of these endings. I should be focusing on them.

  • Make sure the scavengers are not a monolithic group of stereotypes.
  • Have a bunch of the scavengers go with Susan to back her up with her creator.
  • During the first editing pass, focus on Susan knowing who she is, but allow her to still fear rejection.
  • Do some more research into OCD.

Writing Journal

Originally written on 29 September 2016.

The scavengers congregate outside the silos, masquerading as the gathered homeless. They spend the day inside, if they don’t have another hovel staked out as their personal territory. The silos have been patched with rusting metal and tar to keep out the sunlight, and the doors are barred from the inside to prevent intruders. They value their privacy, and are not kind to strangers.

These are the vampires who turned Cole. The gun had been taken east to the Mother and her brood (Two Vampires, What No Eye Has Seen), and then a raiding party took it back. The gun isn’t particularly precious to the scavengers, but you don’t steal from them and get away with it.

Because of the theft, they have hidden the gun in one of their caches scattered throughout the area. As reviled and scorned as they are, safe houses and supply drops are incredibly useful. After Adam and Susan help defend the silos from the demon, the scavengers reveal the gun’s location and tell them it’s theirs.

Several scavengers will be burnt by the demon as they attack it. Susan will eventually risk the Sight, and through the madness of the demon’s mind, she’ll discover that Walter brought it here from another “dimension.” Adam will be able to sense that tether, the one that’s keeping it there. He’ll sever it, snapping the creature back to its home and breaking its pact with Walter.

Walter’s already pissy from the CPD’s discovery of what he was up to, and he’ll be orders of magnitude angrier when the pact is broken. Will he sense it right away, or will he depend on a more mundane sign? The latter, I think.

Writing Journal

Originally written on 25 July 2016, 29 July 2016, and 06 August 2016

Novella description/blurb

Adam wants you to know that he really, truly has no idea what’s going on. He’s just as freaked out as you are. One minute, you’re reading about him here, and the next, he’s standing right beside you. Something about him seems wrong, but those emerald eyes of his make everything seem okay. Do you even wonder how you know his name is Adam?

He’s impossible. No one can leap from the page. But there Adam stands, real as life. More real. He insists he’s just as confused, and his emerald eyes make him all the more believable. But, wait, he never said his name.

Julia called out to the pool hall’s regular. He waved, smiling for all he was worth. He had every right to be happy; Julia had saved him from a rabid werewolf last Tuesday. She grabbed a menu and set it on his usual table. She’d gotten this job after she drove off some angry ghosts for the owner. Julia was an accomplished witch, and really liked her little corner of Detroit. Then Coll brought in that gun, and everything fell apart.

Julia waved to the pool hall’s regular. He waved back, smiling for all he was worth. He had every right to be happy; she’d saved him from a rabid werewolf last Tuesday. She grabbed a menu and set it on his usual table. She’d driven off a couple of angry ghosts from the place, and the owner had given her this job. She was a pretty good witch, and really liked her little corner of Detroit. Then Coll brought in that gun, and everything fell apart.

Julia waved to the pool hall’s regular. He waved back, smiling for all he was worth. He had every right to be happy; she’d saved him from a rabid werewolf last Tuesday. She grabbed a menu and set it on his favorite table. A while ago, she’d driven off a couple of angry ghosts, and the owner had given her this job. She was a damn good witch, and really liked her corner of Detroit. Then Coll brought in that gun, and everything fell apart.

Julia waved to the regular as he walked in the door. He waved back, smiling for all he was worth. He had every right to be happy; she’d saved him from a rabid werewolf last Tuesday. She grabbed a menu and set it on his favorite table. She’d loved the pool hall long before she’d driven off a couple of angry ghosts, and landed the server gig. She loved her little corner of Detroit, and was a good enough witch to take care of it. Until Coll brought in that gun, and everything fell apart.

Julia waved to the regular as he walked in the door. He waved back, smiling for his worth. He had every right to be happy; with her help, he’d survived his first werewolf change. She grabbed a menu and set it on his favorite table. She winked at her boss as she picked up drinks for table three. Julia had cleared out a couple of angry ghosts, and the owner had given her this job. She loved her little corner of Detroit, and did what she could to take care of it. Then Coll brought in that gun, and everything fell apart.

FINAL VERSION

Julia waved to the regular as he walked in the door. He waved back, smiling for all he was worth. While he was picking a pool cue, she set a drink menu on his favorite table. Her boss waved her over to the bar.

“Listen, about those ghosts you cleared out…”

“Pat, don’t even worry about it. Happy to help.”

“Thanks. These drinks need to go to table three.”

Julia loved her little corner of Detroit, and did whatever she could to take care of it.

Then Coll walked in, right as her shift ended, with a look on his face she’d never seen before. He brought in that gun, and everything fell apart.