Looking at that blank page on November 1 was very sobering, making me realize just how unprepared I was/am to write this book. At the same time, simply staring at that white screen has made me think harder about what I want to write and the flaws in my plot.
I will be getting back to my daily SoC posts and plan to put a lot more into short stories, especially this train Idea that's been banging around in my head for a while.
But I honestly have no idea how to start and I'm beginning to wonder if maybe I planned so much that I have no wiggle room and can't even make a good beginning now?
Tonight I talk about the impending NaNoWriMo (TOMORROW/TODAY (Depending on when you read this blurb), and make a small, rough outline for my books beginning.
DAY TWELVE
Day twelve and day four of doing at least one entry of at least 1000 words a day.
AND I ALMOST MISSED THIS ONE. Guess why.
Me. My brain has been softly telling me “oh Thomas, tomorrow is NaNoWriMo! You will be writing so many more words than a measly 1000 per day. Take a break! You deserve it!”
Yeah. Screw you Brain, you and your silky lies.
So today I think I will write myself a quick outline of what I want to write. I honestly have no idea how much space each part of my book is going to take up, so I can’t really plan what I want to have written by what day. My simple goal is to reach 50,000 words. If I get to 50,000 words and I still have things to write, then awesome. My book is longer and I don’t really have to rush myself as much anymore (Although I should stay in the NaNoWriMo Routine to be honest).
Also, considering I plan to have a complete first draft of my book done by the end of November, I have hereby dubbed December PerNoReMo: Personal Novel Revision Month, in which I go over my first draft and REVISE! I don’t really see how I can put a word goal on this, so I will simply try to do my best at getting this done by the end of December because honestly you can’t rush quality.
Oh, while I’m on the topic of NaNoWriMo, I should mention that I will not be posting many SoC’s during November, seeing as I will be devoting myself to writing a book which I don’t think I want to post on the internet because of possible (incredibly unlikely but still possible) copyright issues. I don’t want anyone stealing my baby.
ANYWAYS, outline time.
I. Introduction
a. MC is a young man who lives on the outer rim of the winged nation
b. Has stayed home to help protect his family/village from wingless raiders
c. Lives a very disciplined life, very little time or desire to play
d. MC’s family is concerned about his sister who has yet to grow wings; sister actively shows that her actions towards the wingless are not for protecting others but simply because she dislikes them
e. Both of MC’s younger sisters grow wings within a short time of each other, One of these sisters MC is shown to be very close to
f. MC has few friends due to his no-nonsense attitude; one person actively follows him around attempting to get him to come out of his shell and enjoy life for once
g. MC is recruited/joins the army after some event (Possibly the destruction of his town). MC wants to continue to protect his family (They all survive, but as they are safe now, he wants to protect them some other way)
h. There should be a scene where MC finds out that someone had gone wingless. Family/MC/sister talk about how the situation was handled
II. Main Plot
a. MC is recruited into the army by SJ (Roman name), possibly his sister as well? (Sister would have to be older as well for this, in which case she will already have her wings grown)
b. MC and sister are sent to different divisions of the army, MC to Combat and sister to recon/messaging for her smaller size and darker wings
c. MC is taken under the wing of SJ, who shows an almost fatherly affection towards him.
d. We find that SJ’s son has been captured/killed/lost in a recent battle
e. MC asks to join SJ in war council meetings at the chance of seeing his sister more, but is unable.
f. Winged Camp is attacked by wingless force, MC is saved by his sister, also aids SJ in battle, gaining much respect from him
g. MC is asked to join SJ in a war council meeting
Okay sorry everyone but I need to go to bed. I know I didn’t reach 1000 words tonight, but I promise to make it up to you over the next month!
I think I got more than enough of my “Outline” made up for now. This skeleton will be there to help me keep on track more than it will be there as a strict “Do this now” Guide. I will write what my muse tells me to.
I look forward to tomorrow, and will try to give a small update once in a while on my progress!
Today I wrote another short story from a prompt, and did more thinking on the plot of my book and how I'm going to write it for NaNoWriMo.
DAY ELEVEN
I have no work today so I should be able to get two done today. I have a book I want to possibly use as a resource for my upcoming book so I may write on that for entry two, but for this one I’m going to be sorting through writing prompts and taking ones that jump at me.
Prompt: What’s stopping you
“So have you been thinking more about your future?”
Carlos sighed as he drove, his father in the passenger side seat of the car. This again?
“Listen Dad, I really need you to stop bugging me about this! I promise I’ve been thinking hard!” he sighed, “Just leave it please? I’ll keep looking into different jobs when I get home.”
“What Jobs are you interested in?”
Man did he have a way of asking the loaded questions. It looked like there was no quick out this time. Carlos glanced quickly at his dad as he changed lanes to the right, making sure not to make eye contact.
“I…you know I’ve been looking seriously at becoming an engineer I just…I don’t know for sure if it’s for me.”
“What’s stopping you?”
The car was silent for about a minute. Carlos wondered if the subject had died away. He reached for the radio, turning it on. His dad turned it off. Nope, the subject was still perfectly alive it seemed.
“Carlos, if you want to become an engineer then do it! There’s still time to apply to a university and join in the fall semester. Maybe you could meet with your uncle, He’s an engineer too!”
“Dad I” he took a deep breath “I don’t know if I should. What if it happens again?”
His dad looked at him as they stopped for a light “You mean what happened with you and Accounting?”
Carlos nodded. “I failed out of it. Twice. And now I’ve suddenly realized that it was never really something I truly enjoyed anyways! What if it just keeps happening to me?” His voice rose “I go into Engineering for a year or two and then suddenly I realize that isn’t something I want to do either? How long can I just keep stumbling from school to school looking for my ‘calling’ before I’m stuck working at a burger king for the rest of my life?”
His dad was quiet for a while “If you go into Engineering and decide you don’t like it then you can try something else! You’re only twenty years old, you have loads of time.”
“I don’t know…”
“Yes you do. But something is still stopping you. What is it?”
“Me.”
-------------------------------
This one jumped at me for a number of reasons. First, it’s nice and open. I had a couple of ideas, from a physical thing stopping a person/group from progressing, to something less tangible like what I just wrote up there. I guess another reason would be that the prompt really struck home for me. I have failed out of two different aviation courses because, ultimately, I never truly applied myself to the work. If I had done so, I have no doubts in my mind that I would be still in one of those courses, flying planes and being with my friends. But I didn’t.
After coming home from that second failed attempt I’ve really looked hard at myself and asked “Is this REALLY what I want”? And I realized the answer was no. I loved flying, sure, but the stress and everything else that came with the job was something I could never handle. I was never really truly honest with myself as I went through both courses.
So if you finish reading this by some miracle (because you’re awesome obviously), then I want you to come out with one piece of wisdom.
Don’t lie to yourself. Ultimately, no matter how good of a liar you are to yourself, you know when you are lying. Don’t live through your own lies.
So I guess I won’t have enough time to go to the library today so I can go grab my book. The book in question is called “The One hundred most important inventions” Or something along that line. My plan for this book is to use it as a reference for the different times that my three books will be taking place in. Maybe the first book will take place shortly after explosives are discovered, but if this is the time, what other things have been discovered by now? Are there guns? More complex machines? What is life like for this time period? Small farming communities spread all around with the rare city placed in some prominent place for people to gather? What about water travel? Is oversea travel possible yet? Is it necessary? Have people even really cared about traveling over the ocean??
Hmm this gives me a thought.
What if the Wingless see that the winged people will obviously eventually wipe them out with the advantage of their wings, and put all their resources into trying to find a way off the continent? I see this as a really good tie-in to the second book actually. In the second book, Wingless people could be on the verge of being wiped out. The winged people are a bit confused by the sudden large drop, and try to find out what is really happening to all these people, but they never find anything.
In the third book the main continent is a Futuristic Winged Stronghold. Nothing gets in or out of the entire continent without being spotted from miles away. Meanwhile, the wingless have spread over the rest of the planet, populating numerous small continents. Both peoples still obviously have the chance of having children who become either winged or wingless, but the fact that they are raised apart from the other people makes them much more likely to stay with the “trend”.
Another idea I had along these lines was that the Wingless people slowly move down into the caves of the continents, living underground. This sets up the plot for some fun situations and also brings us closer to where the Soul could be.
Right now, I’m thinking the soul should be either underground, In some massive crater, or on some remote island (Possibly Underground or in a crater (or both)). The Soul itself I’m thinking is going to appear to be a Large rock. Obviously it will look special in some way, but in the end it will simply be a rock. Looked at in the right way, however (Spirit-vision!), the soul would not be a rock but the physical body of the Young woman (Whom I have not thought at all about for a while now. her memory is getting a bit stale in my head, I better think more on her in the next couple days to keep her story fresh)
BEFORE NANOWRIMO I need to decide how much of the creation story I want to tell! My current thinking is that I should tell up to the Young Man deciding that his lover had died to create the planet, Leaving the book on a very somber note. Another option is ending their story on the young man/woman finishing the ritual, with no evidence on how the whole thing turned out yet, leaving the book on more of a cliffhanger.
I like both options, so maybe I will simply subconsciously decide on something as I write the story. Another not I should make is that I really want the story of the YM/YW to meld well with the knowledge we have in the main storyline. Maybe whenever we learn something in the Overplot, the Mainplot will have something to do with that? Or vice versa?
ANYWAYS, got lots of thoughts out on “paper” today, talk to you later!
Rain. Caitlyn looked up from under her umbrella to the churning, grey sky. This felt more right. Looking down again, she studied the slab of rock in front of her.
Terrance Julian Waters
-
1918 – 2012
This was wrong. Everything about how her Grandfather had been stowed away in the earth was wrong. He deserved more. She remembered how it had been him who had helped her with her homework. It was him who had been there for her after her parents split. When he died in that accident, her mom and dad had cried, sure. But when she had asked them to have more written on his stone or for his grave to be placed somewhere away from the very back of the graveyard, they went on and on about costs and figures and money.
“You don’t really care do you” she had asked them “money is all you can think about”. Her mother had seemed appalled at the challenge “Of course we do Caitlyn! But we just…the money isn’t there. Even with what he left behind for us to use, this is the best we can do.” She sighed, “I know he meant a lot to you honey, but you have to understand”.
That hadn’t been the end of it either. As they drove to the graveyard, Caitlyn had stared at the clouds, praying for them to cry with her. But the sun shone. Even as she slowly followed the hearse, she noticed children playing outside, laughing. Everything about this was wrong. She was so sad and yet the entire world simply kept spinning.
She had come here today to put it right. As she cried with the clouds, a hand patted her shoulder. Turning around, she saw a young man, about twenty-five standing next to her. “He must have meant a lot to you” he said quietly. She turned her head back to the grave and bowed her head slightly. “Everything about this is wrong. His grave is at the back, hidden in the shadows of the trees, he was buried on a sunny day, and all he got was a simple slab of stone”. She and the stranger walked to a nearby bench, sitting in the rain. “He meant everything to me. And yet when it came to his funeral it seemed like I was the only one! My mother, his own DAUGHTER, couldn’t even bring herself to write a few parting words on the stone for him”.
“I need to show you something,” He said “come with me”. They walked through the cemetery to the center where a war memorial stood, tall, proud, and covered in the names of the men who had died. His voice was gentle “Is this what you wanted for him?” he asked. “I-well…maybe not as large but somewhere where he could be appreciated!” she sighed “maybe others would look and feel my pain”.
The two of them were quiet for a while, the young man allowing her to cry, the loss still fresh in her mind. Looking up, she asked “Why did you bring me here”. His voice was quiet, “This place is full of the bodies of the dead, loved ones who are no longer with their families and friends. But there are so many people in the world who will never be buried beneath a stone”. “This war memorial,” he said, gesturing to it, “Only contains the names of a small number of men who died in the war. So many more men have no grave to their name. But their memory lives on in their families”.
Caitlyn looked up at the young man again, “But how will the world remember someone when their families die, when their families’ families die? Their name will never be uttered again, lost! A loving man like my grandfather deserves more! How could you think that a grave has no point?” she seethed, the anger felt good. “If a person is worth remembering,” he continued calmly, “their memory will be reflected on those they love. They might not live on in name, but their memory could live on to change a nation”.
She turned towards him, about to retort, when she took a closer look at his face, her sadness and anger quickly replaced by shock and fear. The young man stood, “My time is up. Goodbye, Caitlyn”. A raindrop fell in her eye, she blinked, and he was gone.
The wind howled anew, the rain was starting to fall harder, almost as if in response to the lone girls startled cries into the sky. Finally, spent from fervently searching for the young man, she knelt in the wet grass and wept. On the wind, in the faintest of whispers, she swore she heard a voice.
I wrote a short "ghost story" today. I'll be posting the story separate from the SoC after this post for simplicity's sake.
DAY TEN
So I don’t really know what I want to write about tonight. Usually I come on here with at least a subject I want to type on or maybe a single little wisp of an idea. But today I have nothing. Well I have my tea, so that’s something.
AHA! I checked my tumblr and Lo and behold, a prompt sat there. I am to write what starts as a realistic fiction then eventually incorporates the appearance/presence of a ghost. I’ve never done a ghost story before so give me a couple minutes to think of an idea.
-
Rain. Caitlyn looked up from under her umbrella to the churning, grey sky. This felt more right. Looking down again, she studied the slab of rock in front of her.
Terrance Julian Waters
-
1918 – 2012
This was wrong. Everything about how her Grandfather had been stowed away in the earth was wrong. He deserved more. She remembered how it had been him who had helped her with her homework. It was him who had been there for her after her parents split. When he died in that accident, her mom and dad had cried, sure. But when she had asked them to have more written on his stone or for his grave to be placed somewhere away from the very back of the graveyard, they went on and on about costs and figures and money.
“You don’t really care do you” she had asked them “money is all you can think about”. Her mother had seemed appalled at the challenge “Of course we do Caitlyn! But we just…the money isn’t there. Even with what he left behind for us to use, this is the best we can do.” She sighed, “I know he meant a lot to you honey, but you have to understand”.
That hadn’t been the end of it either. As they drove to the graveyard, Caitlyn had stared at the clouds, praying for them to cry with her. But the sun shone. Even as she slowly followed the hearse, she noticed children playing outside, laughing. Everything about this was wrong. She was so sad and yet the entire world simply kept spinning.
She had come here today to put it right. As she cried with the clouds, a hand patted her shoulder. Turning around, she saw a young man, about twenty-five standing next to her. “He must have meant a lot to you” he said quietly. She turned her head back to the grave and bowed her head slightly. “Everything about this is wrong. His grave is at the back, hidden in the shadows of the trees, he was buried on a sunny day, and all he got was a simple slab of stone”. She and the stranger walked to a nearby bench, sitting in the rain. “He meant everything to me. And yet when it came to his funeral it seemed like I was the only one! My mother, his own DAUGHTER, couldn’t even bring herself to write a few parting words on the stone for him”.
“I need to show you something,” He said “come with me”. They walked through the cemetery to the center where a war memorial stood, tall, proud, and covered in the names of the men who had died. His voice was gentle “Is this what you wanted for him?” he asked. “I-well…maybe not as large but somewhere where he could be appreciated!” she sighed “maybe others would look and feel my pain”.
The two of them were quiet for a while, the young man allowing her to cry, the loss still fresh in her mind. Looking up, she asked “Why did you bring me here”. His voice was quiet, “This place is full of the bodies of the dead, loved ones who are no longer with their families and friends. But there are so many people in the world who will never be buried beneath a stone”. “This war memorial,” he said, gesturing to it, “Only contains the names of a small number of men who died in the war. So many more men have no grave to their name. But their memory lives on in their families”.
Caitlyn looked up at the young man again, “But how will the world remember someone when their families die, when their families’ families die? Their name will never be uttered again, lost! A loving man like my grandfather deserves more! How could you think that a grave has no point?” she seethed, the anger felt good. “If a person is worth remembering,” he continued calmly, “their memory will be reflected on those they love. They might not live on in name, but their memory could live on to change a nation”.
She turned towards him, about to retort, when she took a closer look at his face, her sadness and anger quickly replaced by shock and fear. The young man stood, “My time is up. Goodbye, Caitlyn”. A raindrop fell in her eye, she blinked, and he was gone.
The wind howled anew, the rain was starting to fall harder, almost as if in response to the lone girls startled cries into the sky. Finally, spent from fervently searching for the young man, she knelt in the wet grass and wept. On the wind, in the faintest of whispers, she swore she heard a voice.
“I love you”
Okay um……………
I hope I didn’t make anyone cry there. I doubt I did as this was my first story like this but if you read that and enjoyed it thank you so much!
To be honest, the story feels a little clichéd, but I don’t care. I like the way it went and I’m sticking with it. If I wanted to be a bit more anal, I could go back and edit a bit, maybe make it so it doesn’t repeat itself quite as much (It feels a tiny bit repetitious). Also, halfway through the story, I was tempted to make the Dead family member not a grandfather but a young child, perhaps a sister. But that hit a little too close to home for me.
Maybe that would have made it better? It definitely would have made the story more emotional, I wouldn’t of been able to stop myself.
