A Writer's Week #103: What a Difference a Week Makes

A week ago I was really struggling with the writing of The Deliverers 4. Things were just not gelling in my head and I was finding it tough to focus. The result was a mere 1,000 words written, only half of my weekly goal. As this week got underway, I was determined to catch up by writing 3,000 words. But after the week I had that goal seemed a stretch.

I'm happy to say that I did far better than I hoped. I wrote a total of 4,000 words this week, one of my best writing weeks ever. Book four now stands at 10,000 words over nine chapters and 44 pages. The writing was easy this week and I hope to keep that up in the coming week.

Now, while I'm really pleased with the story as it's progressed so far, I'm a little worried about the speed at which the plot is progressing. That's been a concern since the very beginning when I first started plotting out this book. If I get things wrapped up too quickly, then I think I'll keep writing right to the end of the series and The Deliverers Series will wind up being four books. The other possibility is that something unexpected happens that will add an unexpected twist and give me enough for a complete book.

Either way will be okay. It's kind of exciting not knowing for sure which way it's going to go--almost like I'm a reader rather than the author. It will be interesting to see which way things will go. As I've mentioned before, either the end of book four will be a cliffhanger, or it will wind up being the segway to the second half
of the book, which would have been book five.

This week was also special because I received the preliminary drawing for the chapter header for The Golden Dragon of Ang. It's a picture of a Chinese dragon, and it looks really cool. I can't wait until the book is ready. It won't be long now. When the cover is all set, I'll share it with you here. Have a great week!

It Must Be the Snow...

Tonight as I sit here ruminating on what to blog about, I find myself feeling somewhat depressed. Right now we're in the dead of winter. Fall seems a distant memory and spring feels a long way off. Now we're on the eve of yet another snowstorm that according to the weather people will add as much as a foot of snow to the seven or eight inches already on the ground.

Ah well, how is one to keep a sunny disposition with all this weather going on? Right now I couldn't tell you. At work, we were supposed to begin moving our offices from one town to another tomorrow. No doubt that will be delayed to Friday, but we'll be in to continue sorting through and packing or throwing out 12 years of accumulation.

Today we had the last training session in our old training room. I had a little "party"--cupcakes--to celebrate. I noted that everyone who had joined the bank in the last dozen years had begun their careers in that training room, some for a couple weeks others for just a day, and that most had returned there multiple times over the years for various training sessions.

I almost teared up. It's strange how much this move is affecting me and others. Funny how you can become accustomed to a place. Part of me is reluctant to leave, but a bigger part is excited by the possibilities the new space will open up--expanded room for training and a more collaborative space for creating that training. That's not to mention the chance to work in a newly renovated, more modern building.

I guess it does not help that this change is taking place in the dead of winter when people's spirits seem to be at their lowest ebb already. When my wife worked in healthcare--nursing homes to be specific--she always said that February was her least favorite month because that was when the most people died. It was always harder for them to fight through their aches and pains when everything around them was cold, gray and dead.

Anyway, I suppose this must be a little depressing for you to read--not my usual upbeat, maybe even funny, post, and I apologize for that. Every once in a while though, you have to face your demons and acknowledge that they're there, ready overtake you if you don't watch out. In the dead of winter when things beyond my control are changing, I sometimes feel the need to write things out of my system. So, thanks for reading and helping me do that.

I'll be back on Friday to let you know how my writing week went (successful so far) and to let you know how much snow we got (any is too much right now). Again, sorry for the downer of a post. It must be the snow...

Between the Lines: Allan Quatermain

Our guest this week is that legendary marksman, Allan Quatermain. He first rose to prominence in the classic King Solomon's Mines. I'm looking forward to find out more about the character that began the "lost world" adventure genre.

Greg:  Welcome Allan. I was hoping that you could tell us a little about how your quest to discover the mythical King Solomon's Mines came about.

Allan:  Certainly. Well you see, it all came about when my good friend Sir Henry Curtis' brother went missing in Africa. He had been searching for King Solomon's Mines, you see. I just so happened to have a map outlining the route to the mines, but had always dismissed it as a fabrication.

Greg:  I see. What changed your mind?

Allan:  In the beginning, nothing. It was really just a shot in the dark. However, as events progressed it became apparent that we might have actually been on to something. Besides, they promised me a share of the treasure or at the very least a payment to my son if I should be unlucky enough to perish on the journey.

Greg:  What were some of the highlights of your journey?

Allan:  An elephant that we shot trampled one of our porters. It was good for us, we got some ivory. It was not so good for the porter, but there you are. We almost died of thirst in the desert. Then we discovered the frozen body of the bloke that drew my map--with his own blood I might add.

Greg:  Ugh! It sounds ghastly.

Allan:  Yes, it was quite cold in the mountains. As a matter of fact, we lost another one of our porters to the cold. We laid him out next to the frozen adventurer to keep him company. Once we got out of the mountains we came to a green valley. We thought we were home and dry after that, but we were mistaken.

Greg:  Oh no. What happened?

Allan:  We were set upon by Kukuana warriors and nearly killed. Even with my expert sharpshooting we were hard pressed to defeat them. However, we were saved at the last minute when my companion, Captain Good, adjusted his false teeth. i can tell by the look on your face you do not believe me, and I must say that I could scarce believe it myself, but it is true. The natives were terrified--they though we were gods. Naturally, we did nothing to dissuade them of this notion.

Greg:  It sounds like a fantastic adventure. Did you ever find the legendary mines of King Solomon?

Allan:  I would rather not divulge everything. You should read the book. However, I will say that the journey was not without its financial rewards.

Greg:  Fair enough. Thank you for taking some time out to speak with us. 

A Writer's Week #102: Tough Going

Howdy folks. Boy, I hope your week went more smoothly than mine. First off, two snowstorms dumped over a foot of snow on my little corner of New England, making travel difficult. This forced me to cancel one of my training classes at work. That meant I had to reschedule two make-up classes for next week while my department will be packing up to move to another town on Friday.

 All of this must have put a damper on my creativity this week, because I was not able to do much on the writing front. I only managed to write 1,000 words on the Deliverers 4. This book has been giving me problems from the start. It was easy to come up with the idea--and it was a good one--but it took me longer than usual to iron out the details of the plot.

I have to admit that the part I was writing this week was not the most thrilling section. In it, Eric and the other Deliverers are walking into town. All the time, Eric is learning how different his town is in 1777. I managed to get them into the center of town and they have made a decision on how they are going to proceed, so I am anticipating that things will start to move from here.

I suspect that I'll have to do some rewriting of this section eventually, but this week it was just a case of

Eric & friends are now under the Liberty Tree

trying to power through and getting it written down. So I'm now at 6,000 words in 27 pages and three chapters. I am hoping to write a lot this week, but that may bee difficult as there is a lot going on once again.

I am also hoping that sometime this week I'll receive the completed front cover for The Golden Dragon of Ang. If so, I'll be sure to share that with you next week. Have a great one!

Between the Lines: Snow White

Today as the snow fell I sat watching it and wondering who I could interview this week. Then my son Christian hit me with a snowball and I knew. I had to interview Snow White. So without further ado here's everyone's favorite beautiful girl.

Greg:  Okay, I have to ask. How did you get the name Snow White?

Snow White:  It's a sad story. My mother wished for a daughter with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood and hair as black as ebony. Soon after I was born, but my mother died. My father married another woman.


Greg:  Oh, that is sad. I hope your new stepmother wound up being nice.

Snow White:  Yeah, not so much. You see what no one knew was that she was sort of vain, jealous and, well, evil. She had this magic mirror which could have been cool if she had used it for niceness, but she just used it to feed her ego.

Greg:  Really, how?

Snow White:  She kept asking who the fairest in the land was. The mirror kept telling her that she was the fairest. Boy, what an enabler. It was true, the mirror could not lie, but still. Anyway, one day when she asked--and that's another thing, she asked it every day, how insecure--the mirror said she was no longer the fairest in the land. Instead it said I was.

Greg:  I take it that was not a good thing.

Snow White:  You've got that right. Most women would get upset and then go and get some plastic surgery, you know, a little nip and tuck. Not my stepmother. I had to get stuck with a real psycho. Do you know what she did?

Greg:  Well, I've heard rumors, nothing definite, that she tried to get rid of you.

Snow White:  If by getting rid of me you mean having me killed and having my murderer return with my lungs and my liver you're right.

Greg:  That's really harsh, but you're standing here so I guess that means she changed her mind and opted for surgery.

Snow White:  She did not. The huntsman felt sorry for me and brought back the lungs and liver of a boar, which was bad luck for the boar but good luck for me. I ran into the woods. I wanted to get as far away as I could from my stepmother.

Greg:  Were you able to get away?

Snow White:  For a time. I met some dwarves--seven actually--and was able to stay with them. I'm embarrassed to say that I pulled a bit of a Goldilocks by eating their food, drinking their wine and falling asleep in one of their beds. I did make up for that by helping them cook and clean. They're such dear men.

Greg:  But I'm guessing it did not last.

Snow White:  It didn't. Of course my stepmother discovered that she had been tricked the next day when she asked her mirror who was the fairest. Of course the mirror had to tell the truth and said I was. I was told later that she had a real fit--killed a number of servants just for spite.

Greg:  So she came looking for you.

Snow White:  In disguise. She tried a coupe of times, but it was the poisoned apple that finally got me. I do so love fruit and the apple looked so good. All it took was one bite. I should have had a donut. 

Greg:  So what happened, the poison didn't take?

Snow White:  Oh it took. The dwarves put me in a glass coffin. My stepmother danced with glee.

Greg:  That's bad form.

Snow White:  No lie. 

Greg:  So how did you revive?

Snow White:  Luckily, a prince was passing through the forest and he came upon me lying in my coffin. He asked to have my body and when his servants moved it, the piece of apple was dislodged from my throat and I awoke. We were married and lived happily ever after.

Greg:  And what happened to your stepmother?

Snow White:  Do you want the truth or the Disney version?

Greg:  The truth.

Snow White:  As punishment for trying to kill me her feet were placed in red hot iron shoes and she was forced to dance in them until she danced herself to death.

Greg:  Hmmm, I should have asked for the Disney version. Anyway, thank you very much for taking the time to chat with us it was very enlightening.