Posts Tagged ‘Story’

It is October 31st, also known as Nano Eve. I had a slight moment of panic and crisis. I had some ideas down for the direction that I wanted to head for my story. Then a few days ago I lost my path a bit and started thinking about something else. It seems though that this morning in the quiet and peace of the early morning hours I was able to go back to the short notes I had and solidify my focus into the story I was already mentally developing. So I have my basis. I had my Fiance check over some of my notes and she thought it was a good start that I just had to go into more details. That works for me because what I had was just the lay out and back story that my mind needs to get going and discover from there. The working title is going to be “The Shadow’s Thread”. It is going to be a fantasy novel based in a land where magic has been practically extinguished. Children born with what is dubbed the shadow upon them are executed. A tyrannical government controls the common lands. The story starts in a small town with an odd stranger coming into the village at the time of harvest. The stranger has a message for the young man that the story revolves around. Events take off quickly from there.

I will be posting some excerpts as I go and giving updates on the progress. I am excited and a bit anxious. Wish me luck on that front 🙂


As my personal life and mental health go things are slightly improved, if only for the fact that I have some hope in the direction that things are going. After all of the frustrations and being told to go here and then there and then back again I was finally able to see my family doctor. She knew my history and knew the struggles that I have gone through my whole life. I filled her in with some of what has worked in the past and she agreed that it was a good mix of meds. She started me on some small doses of anxiety and mood stabilizer meds and once those have some time to work she is going to start me on an anti depressant as well. I have definitely been going through an adjustment time. The anxiety is still pretty bad but it is better than it was. I am however a little foggy from the seroquel which helps me sleep. I know I will adjust though. I am glad I have something to start with until I can see an actual specialist. I see my family doctor again in a week. It was definitely a relief to get someone who would actually listen.

Well, off to work I go. I will surely give an update tomorrow how my first day of writing for Nano goes.



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So often I become involved in a grand idea. Whether it is a new past time, hobby or any other means of distraction. I put so much effort into it that eventually I am burned out by it and lose all interest. This really is a regular cycle for me. One that I truly despise but have come to expect that it is part of who I am. Last night I finally accomplished something that is more of a personal victory than anything else recently in my life. Too many people it may not be a big deal or may just be another crazy idea that I am putting all of my heart into. To me though this is something I can finally hang my hat on. Last night at around 10:45 pm I reached the monthly target of 50,000 words, which roughly translates to a novel of about 175 pages. This is the goal of the National Novel Writing Month better known as NaNoWriMo.

This is the first time I have been successful at it, having only really competed one other time. That time I gave up on it like I have with so many other things in my life. I even had a good start and a good idea for a story as was told to me by a good friend. I still have this partial first draft and may revisit it in the future. This is a big thing to me. One of those moments I want to shout from the roof top, if not for the fact that people may believe me to be losing my mind. Now I have to refocus myself on completing my novel in the time frame of the month, which is my personal goal I have set for myself. I do not know how long my story will end up being but I have twenty days to reach that goal.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am holding back on the ideas of grandeur. I know that this is not something I should inflate my hopes too much with. It is still and will always be a dream to be published some day. To be honest though i don’t know if anything I am writing is any good. I will say this though. Some of the characters are feeling more and more alive to me. The character of LC Everett, my private detective seems to ring the loudest with me. There is something about his honesty and drive for the truth and the way he wants to protect his friends that has me drawn more into him than anybody else. It is becoming easier and easier for me to write the chapters that ivolve him because the words come to life inside my head and I just have to do what I can to transfer them to my fingers.

Anyways I just wanted to share in my jubilation. Nanowrimo, check. Novel completion, next on the list. Time to keep plowing ahead.


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Being that I am hopped up on cold meds and caffeine to counteract the drowsy effects I have no idea if what I am writing is any good. I don’t plan on rereading anything till the month is up though, so I may be pleasantly surprised or horrified.

Yesterday I was off, which was a blessing for two reasons. First I was able to get a head start on my writing for NaNoWriMo. I put in more than 9000 words which is roughly a little more than five days of writing. This is great because I never know when life is going to get in the way, even though that thought is funny if you know my life and how little comprises of its daily tasks. Second I am sick as a dog so it was nice to be off. Unfortunately I am just as sick today and have to go back out into the working world. I am sure that it will prove to be a long day of blowing my nose between helping customers. I would call in if I could but I don’t think they would appreciate that.

Regarding my story I am happy with where things are going write now. The characters are taking shape and my direction is changing as I go. I am enjoying writing about the private detective in my story. This is the kind of thing I have never really done before. MY writing in the past has always been in the sci fi and fantasy genre, sometimes even horror in short story form. It is fun to be creative in a different way. I was told though that mysteries can be difficult especially the way that I right, which is making a lot of it up as I go. I am sure there will be some trying times, hopefully though I will be able to work through them.

Anyways below I have included an excerpt from the story so far where the private detective is revealed. Let me know what you think.


Private Detectives Location


The office sat in the middle of a rundown strip mall just off of the highway. Half of the stores were shuddered up, signs of a small town bending under the weight of an economy that could no longer support it. Only two other businesses were left in business inside of its cookie cutter store front space. One of them was a used book store specializing in four for a dollar specials and where no real gems could be found or were already picked through and sold for much greater profit online. The second of the three occupied spaces held a cramped asian market that held all sorts of oddities and aromas that could not be deciphered, nor did many really want to know what they really were. The third little shop held an office. Nothing special about it. Plate glass out front read LC Everett PI. He was a rare breed in these woods. A detective trying to make his own way and not officed in a larger city. He would work there of course but drew the line at having to reside there. Everett enjoyed the slower pace of this area and was just fine with the slow business as long as he could always pay the bills, which was most months that is. The front room held two chairs and a receptionist desk that was never manned. The two chairs supposedly for if he ever had more than one client in at a time. Lc could not remember if that had ever actually happened. In the back office LC made his home among the file cabinets that held his years of work. Mostly spouses trying to catch their cheating significant others. And most of the time their hunches were dead on. He did not enjoy that part of the job. Confirming to individuals that there marriage truly was over and it was time to hire a lawyer instead of a private dick. There were good moments though, which were few and far between, and then there was the grey area that filled everywhere else.

LC was upper middle aged. Balding and big in stature. Not out of shape by any means but the kind of country big that one would find on the farm. In his youth he was the town hero. Football star in highschool. Promise and all that until an injury ended his playing days and he decided to take up law enforcement. He was a good cop. Honest and tenacious when it came to finding the truth. Many times at the cost of the law that he felt shielded criminals far too much. He left, on who’s terms he never says and started his own path to finding the truth where he would have the leeway and freedom to use the means necessary. He had regrets about the past, but those are just it, the past, now he deals in other peoples pasts.

Before him scattered on the desk were a few files. These files were not of the typical types that he saw come through his office. There were two names on the files. Each of them a case of a missing loved one. In each case there was no evidence of foul play and in each case the police never opened an investigation. These two cases were his hobby. The things he worked on during his own time. Cases that occupied him as a puzzle he could not solve. He was preparing for his weekly update. It was a task he felt obligated to complete even though he knew that it was not necessary. He looked over the first file and dialed the number having committed it to memory. He cleared his throat as the line rang. On the other end an elderly woman picked up the phone.

“Mrs. Harris?” he waited for her reply knowing already that it was the 70 year old woman he had spoken with weekly for almost two years now. “Yes Mrs Harris, its LC Everett…. Yes Mrs Harris” Her voice was distant and quiet as she spoke “No Mrs Harris, unfortunately I don’t have any good news. I have not found anything new yet…. I am sorry” She paused on the line and for a moment no one spoke “I will keep working to find your son mrs harris…” He looked at the picture of the 46 year old scientist. He looked like any average decent person. Missing for two years now and no new information. “Mrs Harris you do not need to worry about sending me any payment. We talked about this already” He paused to let her say she insisted. “If you want to send me anything send me some of that cranberry bread I love so much. We will call it even then…. Alright Mrs Harris. Have a good night”

With that he hung up the phone and set the picture back on the desk. He rubbed his fist into his eyes trying to relax away some of the strain. Not having the answers was the toughest part of the job. Not knowing, when knowing was what he did. He had spent thousands of his own money on these cases and could he say he was any closer? He sighed and picked up the second folder. “Angela Beal” This was a call that he would not have to make again. He was too late for this one. LC picked up the news paper on the far end of his desk and flipped it open. He set it down flat and looked in his desk. Rummaging for an item until he found what he was after. Withdrawing a pair of scissors he began to cut into the paper. Methodically he clipped out a small article the size of a common coupon. On it was the picture of a man. He found a pin and stood up walking over to the cork board on the far end of the room across from his desk. He pushed the pinned article into the board and stood there reading the obituary for the fifth time that day. The picture was that of Thomas Beal, loving husband of Angela Beal. The obit failed to state it but LC new the facts. Thomas Beal was found in his garage by a neighbor with his car running. He died of carbon monoxide poisoning. LC was too late for him. He failed Thomas and Angela too. He vowed to continue his search for answers.

He shook his head and grabbed his wool jacket off of the rack by the door as he headed from his office and locked the door. He had to touch base with the facts again. Or try to start from the beginning. It was a good thing he never married because if he was any wife would obviously think he was out cheating and would soon have another PI out investigating him. All they would find would be a man obsessed with his job and answers. This was his life, and it was his passion. At the moment he did not need anything else, except maybe for some black coffee, the kind of stuff that would raise the hairs on your neck. He knew just the place and smiled as he got into his dinged up Cadillac. It wasn’t pretty but atleast it was roomy and reliable. That was what he needed. He started the car and quickly pointed it in the direction of the Route 42 café.

He drove along the back roads and side streets, taking his time, taking in the surroundings. As always watching and observing. He loved the lifeblood of small towns and cities. They were always alive if not on as big a scale as the big cities, but here you could more easily pick out the character that completed the city as a whole. Every place this size had a living breathing life of its own. He could always feel its pulse and knew exactly where to get the most current information if you knew how to weed out the facts from the gossip. In LC’s mind gossip always had some truth in it. That is what would make it juicy.

(works copyright of the blog owner)

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(again first draft, unedited)

Ryan stopped off at the bakery after work to get his girl the dipped cookies that she loved so much. Not like he had to get anything else for her. Katie was always telling him how much of a romantic he was so he thought he should always live up to that. The day started with a home cooked breakfast in bed with all of the extra touches, like a single rose on the breakfast tray. When it came to breakfast no one else could top him when it came to scrambled eggs.

Every day when he woke up was a blessing to have her by his side. The honeymoon never seemed to wear off the way it did in other marriages. He was still surprised at how when he had all but given up on finding that one person she came into his life like a storm quickly appearing on the horizon and with all of the power it could bring. His life was better for her and he always hoped she felt the same way. He would never let her forget how important she was to him and anniversaries let him shine.

Five years had come and gone in the blink of an eye. All he could do was smile and think of seeing her face light up when he came in the door with the pick bakery box. The two of them did not have a lot of money but they knew what was important. There were never any extravagant gifts but if they had each other they did not need them. They took joy in the little things that they had together. The little things were what made up life and they understood that.

Ryan stopped at the last light before their street. He always forgot how soon darkness fell this time of year. The leaves were already off of the tree and the moon was casting shadows on the houses through the barren branches. He loved this time of year for so many reasons. The light turned and a honk from behind him reminded him to go on his way. He waved in the mirror and drove on. He turned on the blinker and pulled on to the quiet street. Warm glows were coming from most of the windows. Families settled down for the night. Most dinners already served and dishes already cleared away. He could see the glow and flicker of tvs with their dancing images reflecting off the windows that showed out into the world. This was suburbia as anyone would define it. The charm of the small city where anyone could raise a family and grow old.

He pulled into the driveway of their small two bedroom home and turned out the lights. Something was off. The house was dark. Katie should have been home well over an hour already, done from her day at work and already relaxing. Ryan took the box from next to him and left the car. He walked to the front of the house and turned the handle on the door but it would not move. It was locked when it should not be. He fumbled with his keys in the dim light and found the house key to open the door. He turned the knob again and pushed the heavy wooden door open. Inside he was greeted by stillness and dark. Not a single light was on.

“Katie?” ryan called out into the darkness before switching on the living room light. “Katie are you home, Katie?” He crossed the carpeted room to the dining room and looked at the table. Everything that was on it seemed to be strewn about. It was not the image of neatness it usually was. Books and mail were strewn about its surface. He set the pastry box down and turned the light on in the kitchen as he entered. The kitchen left no signs of life. Anxiety began to build in him. It was not like Katie to not let him know what she was doing or if she would be late.

Ryan left the kitchen and headed for their bedroom. It was an image of someone leaving in a hurry. The dresser drawers were open. Clothes were strewn about laying on the bed and all over the floor. “Katie….” He called out in a much quieter voice. He crossed the room after a brief moment and switched on the bathroom vanity. The cupboards were open and all of her toiletries and make up were missing. He stood there staring at the scene trying to let it all sink in. None of this made any sense to him. Realizing he had his cell phone on him he pulled it out of his pocket and held down the number 2 to call his wife. It took a moment to start dialing and it felt like an eternity. The line rang twice before a prerecorded message began to play.

“I’m sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service.” The message paused and then replayed again. He began to panic. Quickly he dialed the service number for his carrier and got through to a rep after entering the wrong selection too many times. He quickly verified he was Who he said he was impatient for the process.

“Mr Teague, how can I help you today?” The overly cheerful woman asked

“I need to know why my wife’s line is disconnected” He said impatiently. The girl sounded confused as she answered after looking up the account

“I am sorry Mr. Teague but Katie Teague disconnected that line this afternoon. She said it was no longer needed” Silence filled the line “Mr Teague, can I help you? Mr Teague?” At that moment he noticed Katie’s phone sitting on the bedside table. Off and lifeless. He sat on the bed, in his house, his empty house his mind numb.

A few hours would turn into a few days. That first night Ryan did not sleep, nor did he ever even attempt to close his eyes. He stayed in his dress work clothes and sat in the dining room holding the picture of the two of them that was uses as their engagement picture. Their faces smiling and beaming at each other. A moment that might not ever happen again. Hot tears began to stream down his face and he felt nothing but the searing pain of loss. Katie was his life.

The sun began to rise on the next day. A grayish dim light began to peak through the windows and the realization that this was really happening fueled the fire ember that burned in Ryan;s Chest. He dropped the picture and began a frantic task of calling all those he knew to see if they knew anything of Katie. Knew where she might be or anything at all. He called all of her friends that he could think of. The task made even more difficult by the fact that her phone was wiped clean. Not a single number left or call dialed. None of them were  any help but to assure that she would show up sometime, they were sure of that.

Katie had no real family. Or at least none that were close or of any contact. She came from a home that was broken and left her past neatly behind her. She did not talk much of it and he never pressured her to, now though it was a worry that he did not really know how to get ahold of any family she did have. She had an aunt who she grew up with but that was about all. Ryan could not get ahold of her and quickly grew frustrated. Sleep would not be anywhere near his mind so he decided a hot shower and some coffee was in order to awaken his senses.

Ryan got out of his work clothes and turned the water as hot as he could stand. It scalded his skin and turned it a rosy pink shade. He wanted the discomfort to waken him and get him to focus. He was trying to think up a plan but all he could come up with was why? That question would build inside his head. He tried to answer it but nothing would come. They had what he would consider the perfect life. Never had there ever been a bump in the road with them. They never went to bed angry and the few times they ever argued about anything it would quickly fade to be replaced by a hug or a smile. None of this made any sense.

He turned off the water and quickly toweled off. Determined to get any information. As soon as 9 am rolled around Ryan dialed up Katie’s office and quickly got her personal line. Absent minded he redialed again to get the receptionist. He asked for Katie’s boss or lead or anyone who would have any information. He got through to the head of development after staying on hold for too long.

“I was wondering if you heard anything from my wife Katie?” He asked

“What do you mean? Isn’t she on vacation with you?” He asked puzzled by the question. Ryan answered quickly. “Vacation? What vacation?”

“Katie put in for vacation two months ago. She had a lot of it built up and took off the next two weeks. You aren’t telling me you didn’t know? “ Ryan hung up. His wife had planned a vacation and he did not have a any idea of it. “Vacation?” he questioned to himself. The rest of the day would turn into a daze. He was lost with his thoughts. After being up for nearly 2 days he succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep on the couch in their living room. He slept fitfully into the early morning hours when his dreams finally caused him to stir and his horror could continue into reality.

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I have no idea where this is going. It is unedited and any further posts will be the same….

The bottles all looked so inviting. Golden liquids and dark mahoganies. So many unique types with all their own flair and characteristics. The man stood before them staring, gazing from bottle to bottle. What harm would it really be to pick up one of these bottles and head home. What harm would there be in letting their spirits wash away the memories that destroy the peace that his life does not know. He remembers what the warm feeling is like. The delicious soothing buzz that would erase the worries of the day and the horrors of a life lost. In the end what is it really going to matter if he picked up the bottle and had one night of bliss. The man reached out and picked one of the bottles off of the shelf. He turned it in his hand feeling the weight of it. He suddenly felt the pressure of those around him. He could feel their cold hard stares judging him. Casting shame in his direction at the very thought of what he wanted to do. “How dare you!” “Disgusting!” “Pathetic” Their voices rang in the back of his mind. Each moment that passed a dulling ringing began to sound from within his ears and his heart began to race. Cold sweat began to bead on his forehead as he stood their battling his own thoughts. The struggle was always there. There was never a true moment of calm. Clarity would always be a fleeting thing. One thing began to cut through the moment. The knife that guided his hand to set the bottle back on the shelf and step away. The shame of knowing how his family would view him if he went back to that life. In a world where he knew no one or was completely isolated from any judgment he would have easily taken that bottle home and downed it until he could not remember even his own name. He did not live in that world

Shakily he found the will to move away from the display and took the few things he had collected from the store to the front check out. This was almost his daily routine. Fighting these ever present battles. Maybe the day would come when he did not have to worry about slipping back into that dark habit. This was the hardest time though. Work done for the day his mind no longer occupied with the menial tasks that kept him busy. Freedom was the most dangerous thing when it came to a mind that liked to live in the seedy places of the past. Idle hands, idle minds would be just the same.

As he placed the few groceries he had selected for his dinner and breakfast the next day at the check out he could still feel the eyes of all those around him staring. The oppressive feeling fed his anxiety and would not dissipate until he was able to get back to his apartment where he could shut the door on the stares of others. The common moments in life could be hell for someone who felt what he did. Feelings that were amplified in the recent past by the events that gouged at life.

The items on the belt were his focus, doing what he could to ignore the world and be aware of its every object at the same time. Finally the clerk said the obligatory greeting and began to scan his items. The man nodded at the young lady and said nothing. The total flashed on the  display in front of him and he fumbled in his wallet, finding and handing his card to the girl and stood there for what seemed like ages until she handed both his card and a receipt to the man. He collected his bag from the elderly bagger and nodded again as the two of them said “good day” in almost perfect stereo.
Stepping out into the night air he lets its coolness fill his lungs. The sweat on his brow now felt cold and damp. His shirt clung to his lower back, a feeling that was not pleasant in the least. He stood there for a moment. Collecting his wits and calming his nerves. The anxiety began to fade away and his heart began to beat at a more normal pace.
“Watch out!” he was jolted from his peace as someone came out of the store and bumped into him and remarked rudely. He grunted a response and took that as a cue to head for his car far in the back of the parking lot. The parking lot was deserted yet he still parked where no one would notice him coming and going. Unlocking the car with his free hand he placed his bag on the seat next to him and turned the key in the ignition. Luckily the ride home was not a long one. His solitary rides in his car were not things of calm. It was a time when he was stuck with his thoughts. Prisoner of the small space and the solitude. Even the radio or music would not help. Music would find a way to remind him of the past. All of the songs that he once loved were tainted by it. And news or talk radio would not be enough to occupy his mind. He sighed and put the car into drive.
The Streets were filled with the working masses. City streets in the average American city.  Torrence was the picture of rockwell’s dreams. Small shops lined its main street. Businesses of all types that made for strolling on a sunny day. In the darkness of night all the storefronts were dark though except for the few diners and a Chinese restaurant that was open every day of the year. He past the dark store fronts wondering what a normal life was like. All of these people coming to and from work. The kids walking home from activities at school. The families heading out for a supper out. What was a normal life like. It could not be that he was living such a thing. If that was the case then whatever god was watching all of this had a sick sense of humor. The man wondered at this every day. Wondered why he did not have the same smile on his face or light hearted laugh he saw and heard in so many others.
His thoughts consumed him as his body took over on auto pilot. It was so often that he got to where he was going without even remembering the journey. His mind always conversing and battling. Back and forth. Movies of memories past and what should have been, what should have happened, What no longer could. Coming back to reality he realized he past his apartment a few blocks ago and quickly found a street to double back on. These moments happened all too often. Lost in his mind reality suffered. Sighing he turned the corner and pulled his car into his parking space behind his apartment building.
It was not the place you would find the successful in life, nor was it the place of the dope fiends and felons. It was a place where people simply lived to get through every day. Quietly in their own little worlds. They did not make a point to get to know you. No one was throwing a party to have everyone over. It was where those with the will just to survive came to go through the motions and get to the next day. It was  a place where your history was an unknown and that was okay. It was the kind of place the man needed. A place where he could escape and have no presence in the world. At least that is what he thought he needed. All he knew was that he was alone. And as he sat in the car with the engine running he was reminded of the lonely little place of the world he had carved out.
He cut the engine and left the world for the night.

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Even though I decided to join the party a little late this year it seems an idea for a story to consume my NaNoWriMo participation is taking shape. The event starts on monday so I only have two more days to get some storylines and history together to begin to create the base for what I want. I started this morning and a few things slowly cleared out of the fog of my imagination. This year I am going to create a story that is heavily grounded in the things that I know. I am going to use some of my hardships over the past few years to create a character that has some realism and can bring some emotion to the page.

Now I am not saying that it will be a memoir of any kind. I just want to base the character a little on who I am and have the story take legs from there. So far I am enjoying the creative stage trying to pull ideas together. For a while I sat thinking and going between different genres, from the fantastical to the epic, and even some horror. Reality kept creeping its way back into my mind and I decided to give into those thoughts. I will ofcourse throuw some twists in and it still may deal with some supernatural mysteries and conspiracies. I will give you a little bit of a run down on what I am thinking.

The story will revolve around two central characters who are drawn together through a series of mysterious events. The first character will be the man modeled off of myself. A man who has seen more than his fair share of tragedies in his life. Two years ago the man lost his wife and daughter in a terrible accident that left their home in ruins following an explosion. Everything that his life was was ripped away from him in an instant. The grief and depression almost consumed his life to the point where his actions came very close to ending his time on earth. He found some strength to be able to soldier on and is living his life again when the past comes tumbling back into his life in the form of a mysterious letter regarding his wife….

The second character I will not give as much detail or backstory as I want this person to be more of a mystery and an unknown. I will say that the character is a private detective and that the two are drawn into a melded existence that has them both looking for answers.

The rest I am still figuring out as I go. I know that there will be some sort of a conspiracy and things will not seem as they trully are. I hope to post the story as I go so if you are so inclined you can feel free to read along. Hopefully tomorrow night and sunday night I get more time to draw up some plot points and ideas for some of the beginning chapters. The more I can get down the easier it will be to keep on writing.

Well I look forward to sharing more as I go and look forward to more posts.

Good night..


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I have arrived at the decision that this year I will successfully complete nanowrimo. You may ask what this is and I can see why you would ask such a thing. Nanowrimo stands for National Novel Writing Month. It is an annual event that occurs every november and revolves around helping aspiring writers to achieve the goal of writing a novel. The idea is to reach the goal of typing 50,000 words in the period of the month. Which equates to 1666 words per day. The thought is that by getting such a substantial amount out of the way in a month will help motivate the author to finish. Much of being a writer is just sitting down and making the time to write. First drafts are never perfect and it needs to be more about getting the thoughts and ideas out and letting the story take you down the road.

I tried this a few years ago and life got in the way and I fell a few thousand words short. Last december I decided to do my own little nanowrimo in december as I was late to the game. I wrote over 68,000 words in the period of 3 weeks which is pretty darn impressive if I do say so myself. Now I want to accomplish the goal during the event itself. Now I realize I have decided to do this just 3 days from the start of this years event. I need to decide what I should be writing about. I could pick up the story on one of three stories that I have substantial amounts down already. I have thought on any of these three and I believe the best route is to start over with a new idea. Now I have to decide what that is to be. This is not as easy as it might sound but when it comes down to it I believe this is the most exciting part. A story will begin to come together and build out of the ideas that bounce around inside the mind. I think I am leaning something towards sci-fi, and suspense. Maybe something a little dark a la Dean Koontz. I am excited to work on this again. I dream of one day having a novel published. I don’t even think it would be the idea of having it out there for others to buy, but more the fact that I would have a book with my name and title on it. Something that will always be there. For future generations to enjoy. Some day I will reach this goal. It is the one dream that I can still see myself accomplishing.

If anyone is interested check out http://www.nanowrimo.org/ If you want to join up with me or have questions let me know.




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