Pantsing It

Just as I have no idea if this book will turn out even remotely acceptable. If it doesn’t, that’s okay. It’s being written because I have to write it. It is like a purge, getting the bottled up energy out of my system, while I let the story have its way. Will I finish it? Will it take me to a place where it shows me a conclusion? Will I get halfway through, and find that it has abandoned me along a roadside somewhere, with no way to continue the journey?

I guess I’ll find out.

The Lost Story

Many years ago (before there was an Internet), I began a book. Life happened, as it so often does, and I never got past the first three chapters. The book was begun in good old Word Perfect for DOS (if you’re old enough to remember DOS, congratulations; you’re a survivor), and at some point converted…

An Old Friend

It’s the book that refuses to allow me to type “the end.” To be honest, it’s nowhere near ready for that, but it’s been around since 2013. I keep going back to it. I’ve used it for NaNoWriMo twice by pretty much wiping out the original content and starting it from scratch. It has parts…

A Whole Lot Of Nothing

No, I haven’t dropped off the planet — at least not yet, thought I can’t say the thought isn’t tempting. The last year, or even year and a half, has been … strange. To go into detail would be boring and self-indulgent, so I won’t. My fiction writing, though, has suffered; to that much I…

NaNo Again, 2016

Then, this evening, I was washing dishes. Suddenly, there was a story knocking at the inside of my brain. It wasn’t just the bare concept of a story, but actually had the rudiments of a plot, some interesting characters, a conflict, potential danger…. It wasn’t enough to be a full-grown book, but what book starts out fully grown?