I've just been asked to send in a portion of my manuscript to one of the agents I queried! Huzzah! The first step to publishing my first full novel is underway!
The first five pages of my book, for your consideration.
*****
Chapter One
There’s Another World Out There
"I'm looking for maps of worlds that don't exist."
The old man tending the counter of the bookshop hesitated a moment, hands looming over the stack of papers before him. His bushy eyebrows tilted upward as he glanced, curiously, at the lean figure walking toward the desk. He was a tall, well dressed man, an older gentleman though, certainly, no older than the ancient store owner. His hair and finely trimmed goatee were both a dirty grey, the skin around his cheekbones pulled tight. He was elegantly attired, dressed in deepening shades of black from his coat, to his tie and buttoned shit. A gleaming silver watch encircled his wrist, catching the rays of light pouring into the store. Its crystalline face tossed light all around the room, a diamond ring on his finger catching that light and reflecting it again, so that the strange visitor seemed to emerge from out of a glittering halo that parted as he stepped up to the desk.
The shop owner chuckled for a moment as he considered the question, looking with some amusement at the stranger, the edges of his mouth creasing with a smile. "I'm not sure I've ever seen someone quite like you inside of my shop, stranger. You seem like the sort of man who could buy whatever you wanted from a much nicer store. You know, in the big city."
This amused the gentleman, who smiled, tilting his head slightly as his eyes flickered across the mahogany surface of the desk. "I've never been one for avoiding small towns. After all, sometimes you find a diamond in the rough. Besides, what I'm looking for is unusual, and I've yet to find exactly what I'm looking for in the city."
"Well, there's all sorts of unusual floating around on the internet these days." The old man shook his head, still chuckling, his gnarled fingers pushing aside the papers he'd been looking over. "Okay stranger, I tell you what. I'm not exactly sure how to answer you. I've got plenty of maps of course," he said with a wave at the magazine rack near the entrance of the store. "Of course, they're all real maps, of the only world we've got. Well, that and the city of course."
"I know my way around Dallas well enough," the suited man replied, glancing at the rack for a moment before turning his attention back to the shop keeper. "The truth is, I need maps of places people have never seen." He hesitated, struggling for the right words. "Fantasy maps, I suppose, from stories. However, they have to be detailed, and as detailed as possible. Lovingly so. They have to grab the soul, the imagination. They can't be these mass produced, gamer's maps infiltrating every book shop from here to New York. What I need is something made, carefully and with the finest attention detail, so close to real that a man could imagine himself making a journey to the wonderful world he was looking at."
"As close to hand drawn as possible then."
"Yes, that's right. I'll get no good out of a cheap maps made to fill the pages of a videogame magazine. I need something authentic, as close to real as the fantastic can get. If I set this map side by side with one of earth, I'd expect to believe it was another planet I could travel to."
For a moment the shopkeeper seemed impressed at the man's passion, though he was hesitant to respond, his teeth gently clamping down on his lower lip. "I truly don't want to disappoint you, you know, but I've got nothing hand drawn." His mischievous eyes shot to the back of the store as he waved a crooked finger in the air. "However, I think I've got just the thing you're looking for. A few things, actually. It's been some years since I pulled them out but I'm sure I've got some maps lying around somewhere. One of them may suit you. Now, mind you, they're from books written decades ago, when people cared about those sorts of things." His smile grew now, his body shaking with the excitement of any man passionate about what he did. "Yes, I'm sure of it!" he almost cried out, pulling himself off of his stool and settling onto the floor, his small figure almost a foot shorter than the suited man's. They stood in stark contrast against one another, the first short and lively, the second tall and stoic. "I'll go get them immediately! Just wait here."
The well dressed stranger almost laughed, watching as the enthused elderly man raced away, zipping between bookshelves and vanishing into the warehouse where his goods were stored. The edges of the stranger's lips curled upward into a smile as his eyes moved to his watch, glancing at its face, the second hand ticking away the time. "I'm not going anywhere, my friend. I've got all the time in the world."
***
Maximus Douglas, all of seventeen, wandered down the sidewalk of Waxahachie, Texas. His tossed and shaggy hair fell down in front of his eyes, almost blocking them as they scanned the pavement, his head pinned downward as he shuffled along the street. He counted the cracks as they passed beneath him, hands shoved deep inside of a green cargo jacket, its several pockets holding dozens of gadgets and trinkets that he picked up each time he went for a walk. Max was a collector of sorts, someone more interested in the world of his dreams than reality, and he enjoyed hunting for interesting and unusual items that he could call his own. They helped fuel his imagination, and could range from thimbles to old cards from trading games. He knew most people found his hobby odd, but Waxahachie wasn't the busiest town around, and sometimes it was hard for a young man his age to find things to do. It was south of the big city lights of Dallas, and really far north of anything else he considered important. Florida was a few hundred miles east, and California was a few hundred miles west. No, Waxahachie was sort of just 'there', in the middle of nowhere. It gave Max a bit too much time to daydream, which, it turned out as he got older, wasn't a good thing. Max was failing in school.
It was depressing, an unspoken weight that was firmly hung from his neck and that dragged him further down as the school year went on. Everyone knew he was smart, including his parents. He might not be as smart as, say, his friend Heidi, but Max was pretty sharp. He'd always done well in math and English when he'd been in middle school, but at some point in high school he'd lost his way. It was hard to tell where and when it began, but for the longest time he'd had trouble fitting in with his classmates, and slowly, Max had started to spend more time by himself. He wasn't a jock, not by far. He got winded just going up the steps at his school, and while he was energetic, he had never been too good at sports. Footballs and basketballs seemed to have a love affair with hitting him across the head, and he didn't seem capable of developing the reflexes necessary to deflect their affections. Max did love being outdoors, but spent that time looking for things, or making up stories. His favorite pastime always involved books, reading them obsessively and jotting down his own ideas in a notebook he kept in his backpack, which followed him everywhere. That journal was filled not only with ideas, but sketches, and while it was his greatest pride, it was also his greatest worry. Whenever he wrote anything in it, he shielded the book from view with his arm, which he wrapped around the journal as if he were scribbling some great secret. What he wrote was important, at least to him, and the thought of someone else getting their hands on it was horrifying. That was the reason he never set his bag down, or ever left his notebook sitting by itself. He didn't need people thinking he was any stranger than they already did, and even the hint that someone might find and read his stories made his stomach rise into his throat. Just thinking about it made his stomach jog in circles.
So he was not a jock, and not a member of any school clubs. Still, there was at least one organization that he enjoyed, and that got him outside and into the fresh air. One might think it was something involving art, or poetry or crafts, but it was nothing like that. In fact, it was the only organization he knew in the area that allowed him to get outside while also indulging his creativity. It was the Waxahachie Archeology Club. Given his love of odd trinkets and pieces, it was no small wonder he enjoyed going out with them, combing the earth for signs of arrowheads and spear tips left by the local native groups. The students didn't get a chance to explore dig sites too often, but they'd head out on the dry riverbeds when they could, breaking up the solid Texas dirt to see what they could find. One piece they'd discovered, an old arrowhead buried in what had once been a river, he now kept on him all the time. In fact, he wore it around his neck on a string. It was the only accessory he bothered with.
The club had become one of the few places where he could go to have a good time. He'd met Heidi there, a fellow dreamer and thinker, but by far a better student who kept her nose in the books. She was famous for her string of perfect test scores and academic awards, achievements they gave out every month at the school. Max had never qualified for one. If they'd made one for best dreamer, though, he would have been the undisputed winner. He'd let Heidi see inside of his notebook once, and just once, at a time when he'd finally felt he could trust her. It had only been for a few minutes, but it had been long enough for Heidi to see a few of his drawings and read some of his story ideas. Afterward she'd had nothing but good to say, but Max didn't receive criticism easily, not even positive compliments. He'd been embarrassed just to show her the book, and he'd quickly put it away, ignoring anything she had to say about it. Every minute she'd held it had been one more minute he'd been unable to breathe. A lifetime of criticism about needing to focus more hadn't exactly made him the most confident person in his work.
Heidi wasn't as much the dreamer as he was, but she was smarter than anyone else he'd ever met. Her father was a physicist, her mother a mechanic, and somehow Heidi had turned into a mathematically brilliant Ms. Fix-It who could repair just about anything, mechanical or electronic. She was so smart that his parents had actually hired her to tutor him, an endeavor that had only gone so well. The latest test results, which had just come in that afternoon, had been better that his past scores but not by enough. He was still failing his class, and his parents weren't happy. Frustrated, he'd taken to the streets, as he always did when he was feeling upset. It let him think without the risk of venting on his parents, and let him clear his head. As he often did when he was wandering around downtown Waxahachie, he found his feet taking him to the local bookstore. If there was one place in the world he could just lose himself for hours, it was in the comfy reclining chair of the store, a book in his lap and the warm light of the lamps glowing against the rich red wooden walls. He'd find an old classic, plop himself down into that plush chair the store owner kept in the rear, and just disappear into the story. It was the only way he had of really de-stressing from days like this.
The familiar jingle of the bell always brought a smile to his face when he stepped inside, and the smell of leather covers and aging paper had always been a big part of the appeal behind his love of real books. He'd purchased a few novels on his digital tablet,, but there was nothing like the feel and smell of a physical, hardcopy book. Max loved the sensation of the cover in his hands and the scent in his nostrils whenever he opened the pages, the paper crinkling between his fingers. It was something he looked forward to every time he came to the store, and he instantly knew where he was heading. The old shop keeper waved to him with a smile as Max made a beeline for the back shelves, the wooden boards beneath his feet creaking as each step struck a soft sound throughout the quiet bookshelves. His eyes shot around the corner to his favorite section, where all the fantasy and science fiction was kept, the books that he loved most. Once there, he'd immediately started scanning for something he hadn't read before. He didn't know what he was looking for, exactly. He never really did, but that was the joy of book shopping. There was always something new to be found, and you never knew exactly what story you'd stumble upon.
He quickly became lost in his search, eyes pouring over cover after cover, so focused that he barely noticed the door bell ring again. On an afternoon in the middle of the week, it was rare for the store to get many customers. Max was normally the only one. It was so unusual that anyone else might have paid attention, but the boy was too fond of his stories, and was intent on finding something to read. At least a few more minutes passed before he finally turned, only slightly, catching sight of someone in the corner of his eye. It was a tall, black suited man, a distinguished wave of grey hair atop his head, his suit light and expensive looking. Just barely, he could overhear the conversation coming from the desk, and though he didn't like to eavesdrop, he couldn't restrain himself.
"I'm looking for maps of worlds that don't exist."
Max's nose wrinkled. It was such an odd request, silly on the surface, yet intriguing. "Maps of worlds that don't exist," he'd repeated softly, eyes breaking away from the books in front of him, his face turning to observe the strange gentleman. The shop keeper was just turning the corner of the desk, walking through the rear of the store and vanishing into a door that led into the storeroom. Max had never been inside there, but in his mind he imagined a mammoth warehouse, filled with towers of books that scraped the rooftop like fingertips. The worlds he dreamt up were much more enticing than mundane reality. That fact, that he dreamt up these sorts of worlds, were exactly what drew him toward the stranger. Almost unconsciously he found himself walking toward the black suited individual, as if being carried along on legs that weren't his own. The older man, nearly seven feet in height, looked down at the much shorter boy.
"Can I help you?" The man's voice lifted and hinted at an accent that Max couldn't pin, but that he found almost musical.
"Uh, yes sir. I wasn't trying to listen in on you, but I couldn't help it."
The man's eyes glanced toward the back of the store, hoping for the store keeper to return with greater speed, not less. "You mean you were eavesdropping," he said plainly, though he did not seem enthusiastic about talking to a teenage boy.
"Well, yes. I didn't mean to though. It was an accident."
"It was an accident that you listened in on my conversation?" His voice shifted downward, irked. "I suppose anything can be passed off as accidental if that's the case."
"No, I'm sorry sir, I really didn't mean to."
"It's fine, it's fine," he replied, brushing Max off with a wave of his hand. His fingertips went to the bridge of his nose, rubbing at it for a moment before he looked up again, forcing himself to smile. "I'm being unnecessarily rude. What is it I can help you with?"
"I was just wondering what you meant, when you were asking about maps of worlds that don't exist?" Max stuttered, looking unsure of himself. "It's just such a weird thing to say. Are you talking about maps, like, in fantasy books or game guides?"
"It's a weird thing to say, is it?" He echoed Max's words as he stared, curiously, at the young man. The man's fingers brushed at his goatee for a moment. "I don't know what to tell you, boy. I've got an unusual way of talking, that much I freely admit." He stopped, eyes locking with Max's. For a long moment he didn't break his gaze, as if he could see right through the boy. Max found himself suddenly terrified, shaken and yet unable to break away from their locked eyes. A cold shiver danced down his spine as he swallowed hard, feeling a lump swell in his throat as the man’s look held him. Finally, the stranger reared back, head darting away as he rubbed at his brow. Max nearly stumbled backward when their eyes finally broke their connection, a deep gasp escaping his lips. The man quickly turned back to face Max, his eyes taking on an entirely new character, with none of the hypnotic qualities they'd possessed just an instant before. "You're a dreamer, aren't you?"
Max stared at the man a long moment, trying to find words, but only mumbled, "Yes. That's basically all I do."
"There are worlds out there we can only explore with our minds, you know? In the windows of our soul, our imaginations, we can go places we can't in this monotonous reality we call our lives. I enjoy books, stories and maps. These are things that take my mind to other places." A smiled crossed his lips, that thin moustache of his lifting as he did. "I'd encourage you to keep dreaming, young man. That's all you've got to get by in this harsh world of ours. When life seems too boring, or too dark, your imagination can take you places your feet never could. It's good not to forget that."
Max was about to respond when the sound of a door shutting caught his ears, the old shop keeper returning, a stack of lengthy parchments bundled up in his arms. The pair of them turned their attention to the back as the old man scurried along, back to his post at the front desk, arms dumping the documents onto its surface. "There we go!" the old man said with a satisfied grin, the papers, all rolled up with rubber bands at their centers, rolling along for an instant before settling to a halt. "All the maps I could find that I thought might suit you.”
"Thank you kind sir," the stranger returned with a smile, looking to have none of the intensity he’d possessed just a moment before. "I'll take them all. And..." he turned to look at Max for a second, a glimmer in his eye. "I'll pay in advance for any two paperback books this good boy would like to have."
The owner's smile stretched wide as he slapped the desk in glee. "Well what do you know, Max. Seems you came in on the right day."
"Well, guess I did," Max replied, hesitant, his voice still quiet. "Thanks sir."
"Think nothing of it," the man replied, tipping two fingers toward the boy, eyes gesturing to the rear. "Now, go pick out two books before I start to rethink my offer."
Max nodded. "Thanks," he said one more time as he stepped away, feet pulling him back into the rear of the store.
"And like I said, boy. Always keep dreaming."
"Yeah, right," he'd barely managed to reply, shuffling away. Whatever had just happened, it had been strange. Max rolled his shoulders as he tried to shake off the cold that had fallen on him, like ice thrown down the back of his shirt. He couldn't quite put it into words, even if he was happy to have gotten free books out of the strange conversation. Still, as he went back to scouring the counters for something to buy, his eyes kept darting back to the stranger, glancing back every few seconds until he finally saw the man walk away from the counter. His eyes crept along over the covers of the books before him, jumping from title to title absently, without any purpose, as he continued to linger on the memory of the stranger's words. "Maps of worlds that don't exist."
I'm currently reading some books on writing, (before I seriously think about writing something), and I was just curious if any of you guys know any good books on it.
(I mean it doesn't just have to be writing books either. I think learning some screenplay stuff would help with overall designing)
If you want to write fantasy, nothing beats the DnD 3.5 DM manuals or the World of Darkness books (depends on what type of fantasy you want. DnD is high fantasy, World of Darkness is modern day gritty horror fantasy). Both provide lots of ideas and inspiration as well as ways of keeping the story away from cliched and overdone storylines. And they're also pretty good reads. And there's a bazillion of them for any topic you so desire.
I'm currently reading some books on writing, (before I seriously think about writing something), and I was just curious if any of you guys know any good books on it.
(I mean it doesn't just have to be writing books either. I think learning some screenplay stuff would help with overall designing)
The best book on writing you can read is many, many books. Then you write many, many stories and get much, much brutal feedback. Do this for about 10,000 hours worth of writing, reading and feedback.
The best book on writing you can read is many, many books. Then you write many, many stories and get much, ch, much brutal feedback. Do this for about 10,000 hours worth of writing, reading and feedback.
Good thing I have myself set up to get free books daily, (classic stuff via Moon reader, and modern stuff via this daily free book blog on Amazon. Mostly crap stuff but sometimes I find something of interest to grab for later (you can just change the amazon extension from. Com to Co. UK to get the UK version of the book page to download it >;-))) .
As for the writing part, I think I'll stick to one story at a time. (after all some famous authors only ever wrote the odd book here and there. (content isn't everything you know.;-)) And I think this one I'm thinking about at the moment might be a pretty good one, once it's all fully planned out.
I have the idea for the first chapter planned out already, (well, a lot more than that. I have the beginning, the ending and some key events and characters and lore. Just not quite enough to string it together yet) . In fact I think I may have already described it before.
Just trying to write it out properly now.
(which I'll admit is a odd challenge for me, since I have an unusual tendency to condense my writing as much as possible. Many assignments I run under word count because I just seem to say the same stuff as others a little more efficiently. Of course I don't want to babble, but that first chapter/scene/custscene/intro/splashscreen/level has to grab the audiences attention, so I really want to think hard about setting up an interesting scene to spark that curiosity and get that momentum going off the bat)
No matter how I go about it, (already reconsidering how I should set it up! XD), I know what the first sentence is going to be:
Two dark figures moved across the desert sand.
(it just HAS to start with that line. It just popped into my head one day when I was thinking about that opening scene, and it has never left since.)
Good thing I have myself set up to get free books daily, (classic stuff via Moon reader, and modern stuff via this daily free book blog on Amazon. Mostly crap stuff but sometimes I find something of interest to grab for later (you can just change the amazon extension from. Com to Co. UK to get the UK version of the book page to download it >;-))) .
As for the writing part, I think I'll stick to one story at a time. (after all some famous authors only ever wrote the odd book here and there. (content isn't everything you know.;-)) And I think this one I'm thinking about at the moment might be a pretty good one, once it's all fully planned out.
I have the idea for the first chapter planned out already, (well, a lot more than that. I have the beginning, the ending and some key events and characters and lore. Just not quite enough to string it together yet) . In fact I think I may have already described it before.
Just trying to write it out properly now.
(which I'll admit is a odd challenge for me, since I have an unusual tendency to condense my writing as much as possible. Many assignments I run under word count because I just seem to say the same stuff as others a little more efficiently. Of course I don't want to babble, but that first chapter/scene/custscene/intro/splashscreen/level has to grab the audiences attention, so I really want to think hard about setting up an interesting scene to spark that curiosity and get that momentum going off the bat)
No matter how I go about it, (already reconsidering how I should set it up! XD), I know what the first sentence is going to be:
Two dark figures moved across the desert sand.
(it just HAS to start with that line. It just popped into my head one day when I was thinking about that opening scene, and it has never left since.)
I've just been asked to send in a portion of my manuscript to one of the agents I queried! Huzzah! The first step to publishing my first full novel is underway!
I’ve said it before, I’ve never even considered publishing one of my novels. At least you’ve mustered up the balls to try to get one of yours own in stores. Congrats.
P.S., Telltale Murder Mystery is going nowhere at the moment. I’m not canceling it, I’m just putting it on hold for the moment while I try to re-work some plot holes.
Here's part of the chapter The Thorn of my novel Eldritch Fairytales. I prefer it if you just purchase it, but if you have to, until the end of this month you can get it for free using the coupon code ELDRITCHFAIRYTALESTTG.
* * * * *
As it was already late in the day, Morgan went home, and while we ourselves were heading home, I got a phone call from Jacob, asking if we could pay the office a visit. When we got there, the place was empty, and all the lights were out.
“I don’t think I like this,” Diana said. She held my hand real tight, afraid something might have been here. We then heard something moving.
“Jacob?” she said.
“Be quiet,” I whispered to her. “I’ve seen enough horror movies to know where this is going. Now we need to quietly get out of the building before we actually get killed.”
As we turned around, though, we found that it was already night.
“Run?” she said.
“Run,” I said.
We ran towards the exit, still holding each other’s hand, perhaps even tighter than before. Right at that point, we both heard an unearthly howl coming from behind us, and the sound of something big heading right at us. We quickly got outside, slammed the door shut and continued to run as fast as we could. We both weren’t sure if the door would hold it inside, and, unfortunately, it didn’t.
We continued to run further away, and even though neither of us looked behind us, we noticed the street lights behind us turning off one by one, all while something was following us. We then headed to an alley, because we both assumed that whatever was following us probably couldn’t follow us here, due to the size we assumed it had. It wasn’t the worst idea we could have had, as the alley did slow it down a little, but the experience we had running through that alley wasn’t really great, for as we made our way to the other side, we could clearly see around us people, unmoving, expressionless, hollow even. They didn’t seem to have any eyes and their skin was the palest I’ve ever seen. They were all standing there, staring into nothingness, like ghosts. I wasn’t even sure if they were there, but Diana told me she saw them as well.
Just as we were halfway though, things changed. No longer were they staring passed us, they were all turning their heads towards us. When you’re running, you don’t often seem to notice how close things are until you actually pay attention, and in a small alley like this one, there’s really not a lot of room to stand in. We could almost feel their breath. Almost, because none of them seemed to be breathing at all. We were running as fast as we could, but it seemed like an eternity.
We finally got out of that alley into a fully lit street. It wasn’t over, though. Right there, across the street, we could see a person hunched down, properly dressed. As the person got up though, we noticed that it wasn’t a human being. It was around ten feet tall, no hair, and when it turned around, we noticed it lacked a nose, mouth and ears, only leaving two pitch-dark eyes. It then approached us, and for some reason, we were frozen in place. When it came close, it hunched over, taking a good look at us. Finally, it stood upright, and despite it not having a mouth, it began to howl, after which every light went out for just a second. When they turned on again, it was gone, and we were free to move.
Do they breed them first, or do they eventually run out of lawyers and die as a civilization.
Lawyers aren't born silly!
Their manufactured out of raw lawdonium, a jet black mineral unique only to Lawdonia
(how exactly they are created has been kept a secret till this day, but secret import documents leaked from their government suggest that eel hearts and lizard blood are key ingredients)
Lawyers aren't born silly!
Their manufactured out of raw lawdonium, a jet black mineral unique only to Lawdonia
(how exactly they are created has been kept a secret till this day, but secret import documents leaked from their government suggest that eel hearts and lizard blood are key ingredients)
I decided to scrap everything I've done and rewrite. What I've got now is much better. Instead of my Prelude chapter feeling like a highly condensed and rushed-through book, it feels more like a story being told. I changed it to being narrated by a character who will appear later in the novel as a sage.
I also progressed a bit more with my plan. I've now reached the point where the main character uses his new found powers for the first time in front of people, and they encounter the villain of novel.
I then realised that two of my characters are called Sam and Max. ¬_¬
The Joker sat atop a throne made of scrap metal painted green and purple, a monument sitting atop an enormous pile of what from a distance looked like dead babies, but in reality was just hundreds of dolls that had their arms, legs, and heads torn off. Every single one had a gruesome smile painted on their faces.
Joker came down from his chair, sliding down Dead Baby Mountain with a “Whee!” and came to his feet right in front of a long table. His men all sat around it, their faces painted like mimes and his main guys made to look like brawny versions of The Three Stooges. At the other end, opposite of an exact replica of the chair atop Dead Baby Mountain, was Harley Quinn, in her tight red and black outfit. She filed her nails and whistled “Pop-Goes-The-Weasel” while her feet were kicked up onto the table.
Joker sat down.
“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, I have an announcement. Due to our little... setback at the bank last night, caused by the rodent in long underwear, we must come up with a new kind of plan. The table is open for new ideas, and no answer is wrong.” He leaned forward. “Any suggestions?”
A hand went up.
“Yes, you, fat one!”
“Um... maybe we could, y’know, rob a jewelry store, sumthin?”
Joker’s grin disappeared.
“WRONG!”
Before the henchman knew it, Harley came up behind him with a baseball bat, and bashed his head in. The other henchman cringed, even Joker, as the bat made continuous crunching noises as it slammed home down onto his skull. He slumped from his chair, dead, his head a bloody mess.
“Baby, your the best,” he said, winking and clicking his tongue.
Harley giggled and skipped back to her chair with the baseball bat, sticky with the henchman’s blood.
“First of all, I need to make a point here. I have the feeling that I carelessly hired too many guys. Sure, there is a saying, the more the merrier, but this lot isn’t very merry. I mean look at Pudding Face down there.” He pointed to the dead henchman. “There are so many new faces here, yet I never, ever see a smile. So, I’ve come to a desicion. Everyone in here must smile while in my employment, even went they aren’t working. If you don’t smile, say you maybe would rather join up with Half-and-Half or the Birdman, then consider yourself fired. And by fired, I literally mean fired. I’ll have Harley here lock you in an oven. Am I understood?”
Nothing.
“Good. Now, I’m kinda bored. I’m going to kill one of you just for the hell of it.” He pointed at the one closest to him.
The man tried to jump from his chair to run and Joker grabbed him by his collar and grabbed his hand. An electric shock burst from his palm, and the henchman screamed as every volt in Joker’s hand buzzer fried him like an egg.
When Joker let go, the henchman’s body had burned to a crisp, and as beginning to stink up the air.
“Harles,” he said, “it smells like doodie in here. Have one of the boys clean it up, will you?”
“Yessir, Mr. J. Alright you,” she pointed at the Three Stooges, “you dumb asses clean up that carcass for Mr. J.”
I decided to scrap everything I've done and rewrite. What I've got now is much better. Instead of my Prelude chapter feeling like a highly condensed and rushed-through book, it feels more like a story being told. I changed it to being narrated by a character who will appear later in the novel as a sage.
I also progressed a bit more with my plan. I've now reached the point where the main character uses his new found powers for the first time in front of people, and they encounter the villain of novel.
I then realised that two of my characters are called Sam and Max. ¬_¬
Maximus Douglas is a 17 year old high school student who has consistently underachieved since he left middle school. A creative soul who prefers to spend his time reading books, drawing and writing stories, he finds himself spending more and more time away from home and at the book store, trying to escape his parents and their concerns over his performance. His best friend, Heidi Trevino, is a mathematics and science genius, a young girl whose consistent achievements at the top of her class have led to her role as Max's tutor. They are best friends, fellow students, and members of the local Archeology Club, which was the place the initially met. On a day like many others, when Max is trying to escape his home, he finds himself having a strange conversation at the book store with a man named Geoff, a man looking for "maps of worlds that don't exist". The elder gentleman encourages Max to continue being a dreamer, leaving the boy confused. Days later, Max finds himself at Singularity Technologies, where Heidi's father works developing new, efficient energy that could potentially solve the energy crisis on earth. However, at the height of the experiment, everything goes wrong. Left behind in the stampede to escape the facility, Max finds himself staring face to face with Geoff, who happens to be the lead researcher and president of the company. Moments later, both are consumed in a flash of blue green light as the energy reactor overloads.
Where Max finds himself for only a few brief moments is flying above a floating island, dotted with ancient ruins that are mixed with unbelievable technologies, silver towers and mammoth computers. All around these cities are jungles, plains and mountains stretching toward the edges of the island, where waters drop away at the edge and into the swirling black clouds below. At the center of the island is an immense beam of green energy light that he's hurled toward, disappearing within, only to reappear in the ruins of the lab facility.
In the days and weeks that followed, Max would continue to swear he traveled to another world. His dreams become more vivid, and he continuously writes and draws more and more, leaving his school work further behind. His friendship with Heidi becomes strained as she struggles to understand what happened to Max. As a girl following afte rher father, a man of science, she can't believe Max's stories until she has solid evidence. That would occur one day when, as Max stared over a map based on the fantasy novel The Laguna Dragon Lords, he vanishes. While she sets out to tell her father about this impossible occurrence, Max finds himself in the city of Vespra, the same capital of the island nations he'd seen on the map.
Dragged before the king and accussed of being in league with a sorcerer warring on the country, Max is imprisoned, only to have his stay interrupted by a breaching of the prison by gigantic, eyeless beats with pale skin and unhinged jaws. Grotesquely elongated arms and claws like blades meet the steel of knights that rush to defend the palace, but Max's life is saved by the blue fire cast from the hands of a mysterious rescuer, clad in all white robes and whose gloves toss flame. The two, hauled before the king by Sir Christopher, the Ivory Knight, quickly spill truths. She is the warrior princess of the kingdom, a skilled archer, swordsman and most critically, a Pyromancer, wielder of the blue flame. Forced to divulge his origins, as a traveler from another world, Max also argues that he is not in league with the sorcerer and has no idea how he arrived in their world.
Discussions quickly reveal that the kingdom is besieged by an ancient sorcerer once thought to be only a myth. Magic does not exist in their world, the same as in Max's. The gloves Princess Katherine uses to cast her flames are coated with the dust of Pyrolith stones, which spark and cast the fire outward. Only in myths and legends does magic exist, or did, until the return of the sorcerer, who rules from the sister palace of Castle Zavan, located across the calm straits separating LaGuna Island from Deja's Rock. Unable to counter his pale beasts, the Abominations, they seek the attention of the dragons. If the sorcerer is not a myth, perhaps the dragons exist, as well. These are the same creatures who once helped drive back the sorcerer long ago. Hoping that Max's unique existence and role from outside will help get their attention should they sail to the end of the world, where the souls of dead men cross at the Gate of the Sun, they hope to urge Max to travel along on an expedition. He initially refuses, though after private discussions with the princess he relents, consenting to travel with them only to be forcibly removed from their world, yanked back to his own.
There he finds that Geoff, after weeks missing, has returned. The experiment they held, while creating a new form of energy, also helped breach dimensions. Somehow that residual energy lingered with Max, allowing him to travel to other worlds. Geoff explains that they'd had hopes of using the breaches to travel between distant locations on earth instantly, a role valued by the U.S. military. However, to be able to travel to completely different dimensions was never intended.
Max is forced to languish for some time in his own world, driven mad by the thought of the people he left behind and the possibility they might all day. By good fortune, Geoff follows up with the boy, bringing him back to the laboratory where this all began. It's a good move, as Geoff is partially hoping to avoid legal action by the boy's parents, who are in the dark about Max's journey but are greatly troubled by the lab accident. Once back in the lab for a final round of tests to ensure Max is safely anchored to their world, he, with Heidi's help, break for the room where the map of LaGuna is being held. As Heidi holds back the local security with the help of her Personal Electronic Discharger, which blasts arcs of energy, disabling their pursuers, he gets to the map. Grabbing hold of her as he focuses on it, they vanish from their world and into LaGuna.
There, they find the war has escalated in the weeks since Max vanished. Sir Christopher has disappeared during his voyage to the distant Shattered Isles, mythological home of the dragons and resting place of the Gate of the Sun. Princess Katherine has been sent to Tower Town Hemsley to save her from the onslaught of the Abominations raiding the city. However, Max pledges to helping the king, who sends the two to board the great ship, the Star Cutter. Led by Admiral Edward Rowley and Captain James Terrance, they set out along the same course Sir Christopher took weeks before, hoping to retrace his voyage. Off the coast of the merchant island of Kappan, trading center of the Stretch, they find themselves trailed by a silver vessel. Worried, they soon find that same vessel being raided by the black sailed pirate ships whose home is located in the distant southern coves of Kappan. Using their cannons, slabs of stone coated with Pyrolith dust that create grand explosions of blue fire, the rescue the vessel to find it manned by Princess Katherine and her coterie of Pyromancers, who began to pursue the Star Cutter immediately after hearing Max had returned to LaGuna.
Now a trio, Max, Heidi and Katherine brave the storms raging off the coasts of Tobra, LaGuna's greatest military rival in the Stretch. Nearly torn apart by the battering waves, Max's ignorance of the sea leads to him being swept overboard. Recovered by expert seaman Andres, Max gains a new respect for how delicate life is. Their vessel reaches the edge of all the world, the island of Goran, where they find the soul survivor of Sir Christopher's ship. They quickly learn that dragons do, indeed, dwell in the Shattered Isles, and that the vessel was most likely destroyed. They desperately follow to the edge of all things, vanishing into a fog and passing into a sea torn by ivory towers of rock jutting up from the sea. They are soon assaulted by a single dragon, and while the men attack with bows and arrows, and Princess Katherine unleashes blasts of blue green fire alongside her coterie, Heidi unleashes a weapon she has worked on since Kappan. Much like a primitive laser it focuses light into a single heated beam, except using Pyrolith stones to create lenses that energize the beam and unleashes a blast of incredible power. It successfully injures the dragon, but the creature is too strong. Destroying the deck, it nearly consumes Heidi when Max, desperate to save his friend, attacks it with his sword. It's a useless gesture, the blade snapping on the creature's nose, but the beast seems to flee anyway.
Their ship is finally carried by unseen forces to the Gate of the Sun. Dragons line all sides of the cliffs they pass through, and a gigantic, golden dragon descends from the peak of the Gate, a huge tower of stone that dwarfs all others. The beast releases Sir Christopher to them, who reveals it is his fault, as well as the king's that the sorcerer has returned. They initially set out to claim his power, which had been quiet for a thousand years, and only managed to awaken him. Katherine argues for the dragons help, out of the love she has for her people, but they will not hear her. However, Max, a traveler from outside their world, is capable of using a unique weapon which comes from beyond the dimensions. It is the same the ancient hero Marcus wielded, who was also a traveler from beyond the limits of the world of LaGuan. It is Fang, crafted from the tooth of Siev-Alm, king of the dragons. While the dragons will no longer be used by men to decide their fate, as they once did not only to defeat the sorcerer, but to enslave all the island Stretch to the LaGuna monarchy, they will at least grant them a weapon that can destroy the warlock.
Their return to LaGuna is grim. They now know it was men who drove the dragons to the Shattered Isles, thus leaving the Stretch vulnerable to the first war with the sorcerer. Then, with the king desperate to fight Tobra and reestablish military dominance over the islands, they accidentally awoke the wizard yet again. Their arrival home, though, finds a welcome sight. All the islands are united in a single effort to drive back the sorcerer, though they will claim their independence at the conclusion of the war. Heidi sets to work developing more advanced versions of her Pyrolith cannon, and is called upon to create a mammoth version, created from fifty lenses and mounted in the observatory of the palace. With Castle Vazan guarded by an energy barrier too strong to breach by any other means, their mammoth Pyrolith cannon, created from the old telescope of the palace, generates a beam of such force that the explosion that results from its beam striking the barrier creates a shock wave that creates tsunamis off the coast of LaGuna and rips the roof from the observatory.
However, the way is clear for a united assault. Led on the sea by Admiral Rowley and on the Ground by Sir Christopher, they make a concentrated assault on Castle Zavan, only to be met by the tens of thousands of Abominations guarding it. Unable to make a focused stand within its walls, Katherine and Max make a desperate run within its towers, leaving the battle outside to Christopher, aided by the Pyrolith Cannons Heidi has created to tear apart the castle's walls. Max and Katherine, though, battle their way to the heights of the castle fortress, to the Tomb of Vazan, where the sorcerer once slept. There they find a pale, ebony armored figure in scarlet robes, who claims to have known the dragons before they arrived in LaGuna, and who ruled the Stretch before mankind could use tools and before dragons had even seen that world from their journey beyond the dimensions. The throne room, a mix of the sinister, medieval and the technological, looks nothing like any other place in the entire Stretch. In the end, unable to overcome the sorcerer's power even with Fang's help, Katherine sacrifices herself to pin the man to the wall, forcing her blade through him and holding on even as her life withers. Unable to move, the sorcerer can do nothing as Max applies the final blow, only to have Katherine, who lived and fought for her people, go unconscious and nearly die in his arms.
The Abominations collapse at the death of their master, and their victory is greeted by a parting of the clouds as Siev-Alm arrives, flying to the highest tower of Vazan, where he finds Max holding the lifeless body of Katherine. Her soul, the dragon claims, has not yet passed beyond the Gate of the Sun, but the time is soon. Only at full strength can the dragon join her spirit to her body yet again, since the act of creation is far more difficult than the act of destruction, and so Max, who has never been a warrior or cared about more than his friends, eagerly gives back the blade Fang. Her life quickly returns to her, and the dragon king blesses her, wishing her a long rule as queen of LaGuna, a time that is nearing. As to Max, he warns him to be content at home, because there are far greater threats between the worlds than even a sorcerer.
The return to Vespra is met within days by cheering crowds, parades and celebrations. Both king and queen ride in the procession, along with Sir Christopher and Princess Katherine. Max and Heidi watch from the second floor of a small building along the parade route, reserved for them by Katherine. They both know it is time to go home, and though Max hasn't told Katherine, somehow he knows she's aware of what's about to happen. As the tail of the parade winds by, the princess waves to him from her carriage, understanding what's about to transpire. Max returns the gesture, sad but happy that their world is saved, and unfolds a map of earth. With Heidi's arms wrapped around him, he says a final goodbye to LaGuna, and the two friends return back to the world where they belong.
Returning to another round of editing. Feedback is saying the narrator jumps between too many characters and is heavy handed, so I'm going to rework that angle.
Avi, a favorite children's author of mine, reportedly would rewrite every book he wrote about forty times before even sending the first copy to the editor.
Avi, a favorite children's author of mine, reportedly would rewrite every book he wrote about forty times before even sending the first copy to the editor.
At some point I have to believe there's no more blood to be drawn from the stone.
Agents are confusing. One says my story is intriguing, the other that it's not unique enough. One says my query draws him in, the other that it's not enough.
I understand the business is subjective but, still.
Anyway, the one consistent was that my first few pages were too heavy handed with the narrator's voice and suffered as a consequence. Now with the editing done, we wait.
One day I shall get back to writing. It's odd, Its something I enjoy doing, and I'm not exactly stuck for ideas, but I find it hard to find the motivation to get started. Once I've started writing, I can be at it for hours, but actually starting is my hard part. I have a lot of time off work over the next week, so perhaps I'll start again then.
Mind you, I said that for the two weeks I had off for my operation, and I only managed to sit down once and write (Three A4 pages plus around 5 pages of planning. Not much but I did a lot of rewriting.)
I actually went to carry on again today, but found my tablet (which I have been using together with a bluetooth keyboard as my writing device, because I can jump into another app and make quick sketches of talismans, characters and locations) was basically dead battery wise. And that my charger is broken.
See, when I get stuck for writing something (usually because I'm about to go into uncomfortable subject matter) I start writing something else. It's a moving pen approach. And often, I tend to operate with the same general themes, so one story can easily bleed into another.
See, when I get stuck for writing something (usually because I'm about to go into uncomfortable subject matter) I start writing something else. It's a moving pen approach. And often, I tend to operate with the same general themes, so one story can easily bleed into another.
I'm the same. I haven't finished my plan for this purpose. If I get stuck on what to do next, I switch to actually writing the novel. Beefing out my old ideas helps create new ones, both for the part I'm writing and for later parts of the novel.
I have an idea of what I want to happen (A beginning, middle and end), but the journey through most of these points is still blank. I have the first third fully planned out, although I briefly considered a re-write (instead of the character discovering his talisman, he could bring them back as souvenirs from a holiday on a mysterious island. It would be a lot more believable and tie in more with the prelude, but would ruin the middle section of the book, where they race against time to collect all the talismans before the villain of the book does.)
Comments
I've just been asked to send in a portion of my manuscript to one of the agents I queried! Huzzah! The first step to publishing my first full novel is underway!
*****
Chapter One
There’s Another World Out There
"I'm looking for maps of worlds that don't exist."
The old man tending the counter of the bookshop hesitated a moment, hands looming over the stack of papers before him. His bushy eyebrows tilted upward as he glanced, curiously, at the lean figure walking toward the desk. He was a tall, well dressed man, an older gentleman though, certainly, no older than the ancient store owner. His hair and finely trimmed goatee were both a dirty grey, the skin around his cheekbones pulled tight. He was elegantly attired, dressed in deepening shades of black from his coat, to his tie and buttoned shit. A gleaming silver watch encircled his wrist, catching the rays of light pouring into the store. Its crystalline face tossed light all around the room, a diamond ring on his finger catching that light and reflecting it again, so that the strange visitor seemed to emerge from out of a glittering halo that parted as he stepped up to the desk.
The shop owner chuckled for a moment as he considered the question, looking with some amusement at the stranger, the edges of his mouth creasing with a smile. "I'm not sure I've ever seen someone quite like you inside of my shop, stranger. You seem like the sort of man who could buy whatever you wanted from a much nicer store. You know, in the big city."
This amused the gentleman, who smiled, tilting his head slightly as his eyes flickered across the mahogany surface of the desk. "I've never been one for avoiding small towns. After all, sometimes you find a diamond in the rough. Besides, what I'm looking for is unusual, and I've yet to find exactly what I'm looking for in the city."
"Well, there's all sorts of unusual floating around on the internet these days." The old man shook his head, still chuckling, his gnarled fingers pushing aside the papers he'd been looking over. "Okay stranger, I tell you what. I'm not exactly sure how to answer you. I've got plenty of maps of course," he said with a wave at the magazine rack near the entrance of the store. "Of course, they're all real maps, of the only world we've got. Well, that and the city of course."
"I know my way around Dallas well enough," the suited man replied, glancing at the rack for a moment before turning his attention back to the shop keeper. "The truth is, I need maps of places people have never seen." He hesitated, struggling for the right words. "Fantasy maps, I suppose, from stories. However, they have to be detailed, and as detailed as possible. Lovingly so. They have to grab the soul, the imagination. They can't be these mass produced, gamer's maps infiltrating every book shop from here to New York. What I need is something made, carefully and with the finest attention detail, so close to real that a man could imagine himself making a journey to the wonderful world he was looking at."
"As close to hand drawn as possible then."
"Yes, that's right. I'll get no good out of a cheap maps made to fill the pages of a videogame magazine. I need something authentic, as close to real as the fantastic can get. If I set this map side by side with one of earth, I'd expect to believe it was another planet I could travel to."
For a moment the shopkeeper seemed impressed at the man's passion, though he was hesitant to respond, his teeth gently clamping down on his lower lip. "I truly don't want to disappoint you, you know, but I've got nothing hand drawn." His mischievous eyes shot to the back of the store as he waved a crooked finger in the air. "However, I think I've got just the thing you're looking for. A few things, actually. It's been some years since I pulled them out but I'm sure I've got some maps lying around somewhere. One of them may suit you. Now, mind you, they're from books written decades ago, when people cared about those sorts of things." His smile grew now, his body shaking with the excitement of any man passionate about what he did. "Yes, I'm sure of it!" he almost cried out, pulling himself off of his stool and settling onto the floor, his small figure almost a foot shorter than the suited man's. They stood in stark contrast against one another, the first short and lively, the second tall and stoic. "I'll go get them immediately! Just wait here."
The well dressed stranger almost laughed, watching as the enthused elderly man raced away, zipping between bookshelves and vanishing into the warehouse where his goods were stored. The edges of the stranger's lips curled upward into a smile as his eyes moved to his watch, glancing at its face, the second hand ticking away the time. "I'm not going anywhere, my friend. I've got all the time in the world."
***
Maximus Douglas, all of seventeen, wandered down the sidewalk of Waxahachie, Texas. His tossed and shaggy hair fell down in front of his eyes, almost blocking them as they scanned the pavement, his head pinned downward as he shuffled along the street. He counted the cracks as they passed beneath him, hands shoved deep inside of a green cargo jacket, its several pockets holding dozens of gadgets and trinkets that he picked up each time he went for a walk. Max was a collector of sorts, someone more interested in the world of his dreams than reality, and he enjoyed hunting for interesting and unusual items that he could call his own. They helped fuel his imagination, and could range from thimbles to old cards from trading games. He knew most people found his hobby odd, but Waxahachie wasn't the busiest town around, and sometimes it was hard for a young man his age to find things to do. It was south of the big city lights of Dallas, and really far north of anything else he considered important. Florida was a few hundred miles east, and California was a few hundred miles west. No, Waxahachie was sort of just 'there', in the middle of nowhere. It gave Max a bit too much time to daydream, which, it turned out as he got older, wasn't a good thing. Max was failing in school.
It was depressing, an unspoken weight that was firmly hung from his neck and that dragged him further down as the school year went on. Everyone knew he was smart, including his parents. He might not be as smart as, say, his friend Heidi, but Max was pretty sharp. He'd always done well in math and English when he'd been in middle school, but at some point in high school he'd lost his way. It was hard to tell where and when it began, but for the longest time he'd had trouble fitting in with his classmates, and slowly, Max had started to spend more time by himself. He wasn't a jock, not by far. He got winded just going up the steps at his school, and while he was energetic, he had never been too good at sports. Footballs and basketballs seemed to have a love affair with hitting him across the head, and he didn't seem capable of developing the reflexes necessary to deflect their affections. Max did love being outdoors, but spent that time looking for things, or making up stories. His favorite pastime always involved books, reading them obsessively and jotting down his own ideas in a notebook he kept in his backpack, which followed him everywhere. That journal was filled not only with ideas, but sketches, and while it was his greatest pride, it was also his greatest worry. Whenever he wrote anything in it, he shielded the book from view with his arm, which he wrapped around the journal as if he were scribbling some great secret. What he wrote was important, at least to him, and the thought of someone else getting their hands on it was horrifying. That was the reason he never set his bag down, or ever left his notebook sitting by itself. He didn't need people thinking he was any stranger than they already did, and even the hint that someone might find and read his stories made his stomach rise into his throat. Just thinking about it made his stomach jog in circles.
So he was not a jock, and not a member of any school clubs. Still, there was at least one organization that he enjoyed, and that got him outside and into the fresh air. One might think it was something involving art, or poetry or crafts, but it was nothing like that. In fact, it was the only organization he knew in the area that allowed him to get outside while also indulging his creativity. It was the Waxahachie Archeology Club. Given his love of odd trinkets and pieces, it was no small wonder he enjoyed going out with them, combing the earth for signs of arrowheads and spear tips left by the local native groups. The students didn't get a chance to explore dig sites too often, but they'd head out on the dry riverbeds when they could, breaking up the solid Texas dirt to see what they could find. One piece they'd discovered, an old arrowhead buried in what had once been a river, he now kept on him all the time. In fact, he wore it around his neck on a string. It was the only accessory he bothered with.
The club had become one of the few places where he could go to have a good time. He'd met Heidi there, a fellow dreamer and thinker, but by far a better student who kept her nose in the books. She was famous for her string of perfect test scores and academic awards, achievements they gave out every month at the school. Max had never qualified for one. If they'd made one for best dreamer, though, he would have been the undisputed winner. He'd let Heidi see inside of his notebook once, and just once, at a time when he'd finally felt he could trust her. It had only been for a few minutes, but it had been long enough for Heidi to see a few of his drawings and read some of his story ideas. Afterward she'd had nothing but good to say, but Max didn't receive criticism easily, not even positive compliments. He'd been embarrassed just to show her the book, and he'd quickly put it away, ignoring anything she had to say about it. Every minute she'd held it had been one more minute he'd been unable to breathe. A lifetime of criticism about needing to focus more hadn't exactly made him the most confident person in his work.
Heidi wasn't as much the dreamer as he was, but she was smarter than anyone else he'd ever met. Her father was a physicist, her mother a mechanic, and somehow Heidi had turned into a mathematically brilliant Ms. Fix-It who could repair just about anything, mechanical or electronic. She was so smart that his parents had actually hired her to tutor him, an endeavor that had only gone so well. The latest test results, which had just come in that afternoon, had been better that his past scores but not by enough. He was still failing his class, and his parents weren't happy. Frustrated, he'd taken to the streets, as he always did when he was feeling upset. It let him think without the risk of venting on his parents, and let him clear his head. As he often did when he was wandering around downtown Waxahachie, he found his feet taking him to the local bookstore. If there was one place in the world he could just lose himself for hours, it was in the comfy reclining chair of the store, a book in his lap and the warm light of the lamps glowing against the rich red wooden walls. He'd find an old classic, plop himself down into that plush chair the store owner kept in the rear, and just disappear into the story. It was the only way he had of really de-stressing from days like this.
The familiar jingle of the bell always brought a smile to his face when he stepped inside, and the smell of leather covers and aging paper had always been a big part of the appeal behind his love of real books. He'd purchased a few novels on his digital tablet,, but there was nothing like the feel and smell of a physical, hardcopy book. Max loved the sensation of the cover in his hands and the scent in his nostrils whenever he opened the pages, the paper crinkling between his fingers. It was something he looked forward to every time he came to the store, and he instantly knew where he was heading. The old shop keeper waved to him with a smile as Max made a beeline for the back shelves, the wooden boards beneath his feet creaking as each step struck a soft sound throughout the quiet bookshelves. His eyes shot around the corner to his favorite section, where all the fantasy and science fiction was kept, the books that he loved most. Once there, he'd immediately started scanning for something he hadn't read before. He didn't know what he was looking for, exactly. He never really did, but that was the joy of book shopping. There was always something new to be found, and you never knew exactly what story you'd stumble upon.
He quickly became lost in his search, eyes pouring over cover after cover, so focused that he barely noticed the door bell ring again. On an afternoon in the middle of the week, it was rare for the store to get many customers. Max was normally the only one. It was so unusual that anyone else might have paid attention, but the boy was too fond of his stories, and was intent on finding something to read. At least a few more minutes passed before he finally turned, only slightly, catching sight of someone in the corner of his eye. It was a tall, black suited man, a distinguished wave of grey hair atop his head, his suit light and expensive looking. Just barely, he could overhear the conversation coming from the desk, and though he didn't like to eavesdrop, he couldn't restrain himself.
"I'm looking for maps of worlds that don't exist."
Max's nose wrinkled. It was such an odd request, silly on the surface, yet intriguing. "Maps of worlds that don't exist," he'd repeated softly, eyes breaking away from the books in front of him, his face turning to observe the strange gentleman. The shop keeper was just turning the corner of the desk, walking through the rear of the store and vanishing into a door that led into the storeroom. Max had never been inside there, but in his mind he imagined a mammoth warehouse, filled with towers of books that scraped the rooftop like fingertips. The worlds he dreamt up were much more enticing than mundane reality. That fact, that he dreamt up these sorts of worlds, were exactly what drew him toward the stranger. Almost unconsciously he found himself walking toward the black suited individual, as if being carried along on legs that weren't his own. The older man, nearly seven feet in height, looked down at the much shorter boy.
"Can I help you?" The man's voice lifted and hinted at an accent that Max couldn't pin, but that he found almost musical.
"Uh, yes sir. I wasn't trying to listen in on you, but I couldn't help it."
The man's eyes glanced toward the back of the store, hoping for the store keeper to return with greater speed, not less. "You mean you were eavesdropping," he said plainly, though he did not seem enthusiastic about talking to a teenage boy.
"Well, yes. I didn't mean to though. It was an accident."
"It was an accident that you listened in on my conversation?" His voice shifted downward, irked. "I suppose anything can be passed off as accidental if that's the case."
"No, I'm sorry sir, I really didn't mean to."
"It's fine, it's fine," he replied, brushing Max off with a wave of his hand. His fingertips went to the bridge of his nose, rubbing at it for a moment before he looked up again, forcing himself to smile. "I'm being unnecessarily rude. What is it I can help you with?"
"I was just wondering what you meant, when you were asking about maps of worlds that don't exist?" Max stuttered, looking unsure of himself. "It's just such a weird thing to say. Are you talking about maps, like, in fantasy books or game guides?"
"It's a weird thing to say, is it?" He echoed Max's words as he stared, curiously, at the young man. The man's fingers brushed at his goatee for a moment. "I don't know what to tell you, boy. I've got an unusual way of talking, that much I freely admit." He stopped, eyes locking with Max's. For a long moment he didn't break his gaze, as if he could see right through the boy. Max found himself suddenly terrified, shaken and yet unable to break away from their locked eyes. A cold shiver danced down his spine as he swallowed hard, feeling a lump swell in his throat as the man’s look held him. Finally, the stranger reared back, head darting away as he rubbed at his brow. Max nearly stumbled backward when their eyes finally broke their connection, a deep gasp escaping his lips. The man quickly turned back to face Max, his eyes taking on an entirely new character, with none of the hypnotic qualities they'd possessed just an instant before. "You're a dreamer, aren't you?"
Max stared at the man a long moment, trying to find words, but only mumbled, "Yes. That's basically all I do."
"There are worlds out there we can only explore with our minds, you know? In the windows of our soul, our imaginations, we can go places we can't in this monotonous reality we call our lives. I enjoy books, stories and maps. These are things that take my mind to other places." A smiled crossed his lips, that thin moustache of his lifting as he did. "I'd encourage you to keep dreaming, young man. That's all you've got to get by in this harsh world of ours. When life seems too boring, or too dark, your imagination can take you places your feet never could. It's good not to forget that."
Max was about to respond when the sound of a door shutting caught his ears, the old shop keeper returning, a stack of lengthy parchments bundled up in his arms. The pair of them turned their attention to the back as the old man scurried along, back to his post at the front desk, arms dumping the documents onto its surface. "There we go!" the old man said with a satisfied grin, the papers, all rolled up with rubber bands at their centers, rolling along for an instant before settling to a halt. "All the maps I could find that I thought might suit you.”
"Thank you kind sir," the stranger returned with a smile, looking to have none of the intensity he’d possessed just a moment before. "I'll take them all. And..." he turned to look at Max for a second, a glimmer in his eye. "I'll pay in advance for any two paperback books this good boy would like to have."
The owner's smile stretched wide as he slapped the desk in glee. "Well what do you know, Max. Seems you came in on the right day."
"Well, guess I did," Max replied, hesitant, his voice still quiet. "Thanks sir."
"Think nothing of it," the man replied, tipping two fingers toward the boy, eyes gesturing to the rear. "Now, go pick out two books before I start to rethink my offer."
Max nodded. "Thanks," he said one more time as he stepped away, feet pulling him back into the rear of the store.
"And like I said, boy. Always keep dreaming."
"Yeah, right," he'd barely managed to reply, shuffling away. Whatever had just happened, it had been strange. Max rolled his shoulders as he tried to shake off the cold that had fallen on him, like ice thrown down the back of his shirt. He couldn't quite put it into words, even if he was happy to have gotten free books out of the strange conversation. Still, as he went back to scouring the counters for something to buy, his eyes kept darting back to the stranger, glancing back every few seconds until he finally saw the man walk away from the counter. His eyes crept along over the covers of the books before him, jumping from title to title absently, without any purpose, as he continued to linger on the memory of the stranger's words. "Maps of worlds that don't exist."
(I mean it doesn't just have to be writing books either. I think learning some screenplay stuff would help with overall designing)
The best book on writing you can read is many, many books. Then you write many, many stories and get much, much brutal feedback. Do this for about 10,000 hours worth of writing, reading and feedback.
Good thing I have myself set up to get free books daily, (classic stuff via Moon reader, and modern stuff via this daily free book blog on Amazon. Mostly crap stuff but sometimes I find something of interest to grab for later (you can just change the amazon extension from. Com to Co. UK to get the UK version of the book page to download it >;-))) .
As for the writing part, I think I'll stick to one story at a time. (after all some famous authors only ever wrote the odd book here and there. (content isn't everything you know.;-)) And I think this one I'm thinking about at the moment might be a pretty good one, once it's all fully planned out.
I have the idea for the first chapter planned out already, (well, a lot more than that. I have the beginning, the ending and some key events and characters and lore. Just not quite enough to string it together yet) . In fact I think I may have already described it before.
Just trying to write it out properly now.
(which I'll admit is a odd challenge for me, since I have an unusual tendency to condense my writing as much as possible. Many assignments I run under word count because I just seem to say the same stuff as others a little more efficiently. Of course I don't want to babble, but that first chapter/scene/custscene/intro/splashscreen/level has to grab the audiences attention, so I really want to think hard about setting up an interesting scene to spark that curiosity and get that momentum going off the bat)
No matter how I go about it, (already reconsidering how I should set it up! XD), I know what the first sentence is going to be:
Two dark figures moved across the desert sand.
(it just HAS to start with that line. It just popped into my head one day when I was thinking about that opening scene, and it has never left since.)
It all started with an ostrich.
Coincidentally I just read a book that ends with an Ostrich! XD
Are you trying to write a book or what?
I’ve said it before, I’ve never even considered publishing one of my novels. At least you’ve mustered up the balls to try to get one of yours own in stores. Congrats.
P.S., Telltale Murder Mystery is going nowhere at the moment. I’m not canceling it, I’m just putting it on hold for the moment while I try to re-work some plot holes.
* * * * *
As it was already late in the day, Morgan went home, and while we ourselves were heading home, I got a phone call from Jacob, asking if we could pay the office a visit. When we got there, the place was empty, and all the lights were out.
“I don’t think I like this,” Diana said. She held my hand real tight, afraid something might have been here. We then heard something moving.
“Jacob?” she said.
“Be quiet,” I whispered to her. “I’ve seen enough horror movies to know where this is going. Now we need to quietly get out of the building before we actually get killed.”
As we turned around, though, we found that it was already night.
“Run?” she said.
“Run,” I said.
We ran towards the exit, still holding each other’s hand, perhaps even tighter than before. Right at that point, we both heard an unearthly howl coming from behind us, and the sound of something big heading right at us. We quickly got outside, slammed the door shut and continued to run as fast as we could. We both weren’t sure if the door would hold it inside, and, unfortunately, it didn’t.
We continued to run further away, and even though neither of us looked behind us, we noticed the street lights behind us turning off one by one, all while something was following us. We then headed to an alley, because we both assumed that whatever was following us probably couldn’t follow us here, due to the size we assumed it had. It wasn’t the worst idea we could have had, as the alley did slow it down a little, but the experience we had running through that alley wasn’t really great, for as we made our way to the other side, we could clearly see around us people, unmoving, expressionless, hollow even. They didn’t seem to have any eyes and their skin was the palest I’ve ever seen. They were all standing there, staring into nothingness, like ghosts. I wasn’t even sure if they were there, but Diana told me she saw them as well.
Just as we were halfway though, things changed. No longer were they staring passed us, they were all turning their heads towards us. When you’re running, you don’t often seem to notice how close things are until you actually pay attention, and in a small alley like this one, there’s really not a lot of room to stand in. We could almost feel their breath. Almost, because none of them seemed to be breathing at all. We were running as fast as we could, but it seemed like an eternity.
We finally got out of that alley into a fully lit street. It wasn’t over, though. Right there, across the street, we could see a person hunched down, properly dressed. As the person got up though, we noticed that it wasn’t a human being. It was around ten feet tall, no hair, and when it turned around, we noticed it lacked a nose, mouth and ears, only leaving two pitch-dark eyes. It then approached us, and for some reason, we were frozen in place. When it came close, it hunched over, taking a good look at us. Finally, it stood upright, and despite it not having a mouth, it began to howl, after which every light went out for just a second. When they turned on again, it was gone, and we were free to move.
Their chief export is lawyers. Yup.
Lawyers aren't born silly!
Their manufactured out of raw lawdonium, a jet black mineral unique only to Lawdonia
(how exactly they are created has been kept a secret till this day, but secret import documents leaked from their government suggest that eel hearts and lizard blood are key ingredients)
Great Scott! Incredible!
I also progressed a bit more with my plan. I've now reached the point where the main character uses his new found powers for the first time in front of people, and they encounter the villain of novel.
I then realised that two of my characters are called Sam and Max. ¬_¬
The Joker sat atop a throne made of scrap metal painted green and purple, a monument sitting atop an enormous pile of what from a distance looked like dead babies, but in reality was just hundreds of dolls that had their arms, legs, and heads torn off. Every single one had a gruesome smile painted on their faces.
Joker came down from his chair, sliding down Dead Baby Mountain with a “Whee!” and came to his feet right in front of a long table. His men all sat around it, their faces painted like mimes and his main guys made to look like brawny versions of The Three Stooges. At the other end, opposite of an exact replica of the chair atop Dead Baby Mountain, was Harley Quinn, in her tight red and black outfit. She filed her nails and whistled “Pop-Goes-The-Weasel” while her feet were kicked up onto the table.
Joker sat down.
“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, I have an announcement. Due to our little... setback at the bank last night, caused by the rodent in long underwear, we must come up with a new kind of plan. The table is open for new ideas, and no answer is wrong.” He leaned forward. “Any suggestions?”
A hand went up.
“Yes, you, fat one!”
“Um... maybe we could, y’know, rob a jewelry store, sumthin?”
Joker’s grin disappeared.
“WRONG!”
Before the henchman knew it, Harley came up behind him with a baseball bat, and bashed his head in. The other henchman cringed, even Joker, as the bat made continuous crunching noises as it slammed home down onto his skull. He slumped from his chair, dead, his head a bloody mess.
“Baby, your the best,” he said, winking and clicking his tongue.
Harley giggled and skipped back to her chair with the baseball bat, sticky with the henchman’s blood.
“First of all, I need to make a point here. I have the feeling that I carelessly hired too many guys. Sure, there is a saying, the more the merrier, but this lot isn’t very merry. I mean look at Pudding Face down there.” He pointed to the dead henchman. “There are so many new faces here, yet I never, ever see a smile. So, I’ve come to a desicion. Everyone in here must smile while in my employment, even went they aren’t working. If you don’t smile, say you maybe would rather join up with Half-and-Half or the Birdman, then consider yourself fired. And by fired, I literally mean fired. I’ll have Harley here lock you in an oven. Am I understood?”
Nothing.
“Good. Now, I’m kinda bored. I’m going to kill one of you just for the hell of it.” He pointed at the one closest to him.
The man tried to jump from his chair to run and Joker grabbed him by his collar and grabbed his hand. An electric shock burst from his palm, and the henchman screamed as every volt in Joker’s hand buzzer fried him like an egg.
When Joker let go, the henchman’s body had burned to a crisp, and as beginning to stink up the air.
“Harles,” he said, “it smells like doodie in here. Have one of the boys clean it up, will you?”
“Yessir, Mr. J. Alright you,” she pointed at the Three Stooges, “you dumb asses clean up that carcass for Mr. J.”
Best Avatar of all time.
Maximus Douglas is a 17 year old high school student who has consistently underachieved since he left middle school. A creative soul who prefers to spend his time reading books, drawing and writing stories, he finds himself spending more and more time away from home and at the book store, trying to escape his parents and their concerns over his performance. His best friend, Heidi Trevino, is a mathematics and science genius, a young girl whose consistent achievements at the top of her class have led to her role as Max's tutor. They are best friends, fellow students, and members of the local Archeology Club, which was the place the initially met. On a day like many others, when Max is trying to escape his home, he finds himself having a strange conversation at the book store with a man named Geoff, a man looking for "maps of worlds that don't exist". The elder gentleman encourages Max to continue being a dreamer, leaving the boy confused. Days later, Max finds himself at Singularity Technologies, where Heidi's father works developing new, efficient energy that could potentially solve the energy crisis on earth. However, at the height of the experiment, everything goes wrong. Left behind in the stampede to escape the facility, Max finds himself staring face to face with Geoff, who happens to be the lead researcher and president of the company. Moments later, both are consumed in a flash of blue green light as the energy reactor overloads.
Where Max finds himself for only a few brief moments is flying above a floating island, dotted with ancient ruins that are mixed with unbelievable technologies, silver towers and mammoth computers. All around these cities are jungles, plains and mountains stretching toward the edges of the island, where waters drop away at the edge and into the swirling black clouds below. At the center of the island is an immense beam of green energy light that he's hurled toward, disappearing within, only to reappear in the ruins of the lab facility.
In the days and weeks that followed, Max would continue to swear he traveled to another world. His dreams become more vivid, and he continuously writes and draws more and more, leaving his school work further behind. His friendship with Heidi becomes strained as she struggles to understand what happened to Max. As a girl following afte rher father, a man of science, she can't believe Max's stories until she has solid evidence. That would occur one day when, as Max stared over a map based on the fantasy novel The Laguna Dragon Lords, he vanishes. While she sets out to tell her father about this impossible occurrence, Max finds himself in the city of Vespra, the same capital of the island nations he'd seen on the map.
Dragged before the king and accussed of being in league with a sorcerer warring on the country, Max is imprisoned, only to have his stay interrupted by a breaching of the prison by gigantic, eyeless beats with pale skin and unhinged jaws. Grotesquely elongated arms and claws like blades meet the steel of knights that rush to defend the palace, but Max's life is saved by the blue fire cast from the hands of a mysterious rescuer, clad in all white robes and whose gloves toss flame. The two, hauled before the king by Sir Christopher, the Ivory Knight, quickly spill truths. She is the warrior princess of the kingdom, a skilled archer, swordsman and most critically, a Pyromancer, wielder of the blue flame. Forced to divulge his origins, as a traveler from another world, Max also argues that he is not in league with the sorcerer and has no idea how he arrived in their world.
Discussions quickly reveal that the kingdom is besieged by an ancient sorcerer once thought to be only a myth. Magic does not exist in their world, the same as in Max's. The gloves Princess Katherine uses to cast her flames are coated with the dust of Pyrolith stones, which spark and cast the fire outward. Only in myths and legends does magic exist, or did, until the return of the sorcerer, who rules from the sister palace of Castle Zavan, located across the calm straits separating LaGuna Island from Deja's Rock. Unable to counter his pale beasts, the Abominations, they seek the attention of the dragons. If the sorcerer is not a myth, perhaps the dragons exist, as well. These are the same creatures who once helped drive back the sorcerer long ago. Hoping that Max's unique existence and role from outside will help get their attention should they sail to the end of the world, where the souls of dead men cross at the Gate of the Sun, they hope to urge Max to travel along on an expedition. He initially refuses, though after private discussions with the princess he relents, consenting to travel with them only to be forcibly removed from their world, yanked back to his own.
There he finds that Geoff, after weeks missing, has returned. The experiment they held, while creating a new form of energy, also helped breach dimensions. Somehow that residual energy lingered with Max, allowing him to travel to other worlds. Geoff explains that they'd had hopes of using the breaches to travel between distant locations on earth instantly, a role valued by the U.S. military. However, to be able to travel to completely different dimensions was never intended.
Max is forced to languish for some time in his own world, driven mad by the thought of the people he left behind and the possibility they might all day. By good fortune, Geoff follows up with the boy, bringing him back to the laboratory where this all began. It's a good move, as Geoff is partially hoping to avoid legal action by the boy's parents, who are in the dark about Max's journey but are greatly troubled by the lab accident. Once back in the lab for a final round of tests to ensure Max is safely anchored to their world, he, with Heidi's help, break for the room where the map of LaGuna is being held. As Heidi holds back the local security with the help of her Personal Electronic Discharger, which blasts arcs of energy, disabling their pursuers, he gets to the map. Grabbing hold of her as he focuses on it, they vanish from their world and into LaGuna.
There, they find the war has escalated in the weeks since Max vanished. Sir Christopher has disappeared during his voyage to the distant Shattered Isles, mythological home of the dragons and resting place of the Gate of the Sun. Princess Katherine has been sent to Tower Town Hemsley to save her from the onslaught of the Abominations raiding the city. However, Max pledges to helping the king, who sends the two to board the great ship, the Star Cutter. Led by Admiral Edward Rowley and Captain James Terrance, they set out along the same course Sir Christopher took weeks before, hoping to retrace his voyage. Off the coast of the merchant island of Kappan, trading center of the Stretch, they find themselves trailed by a silver vessel. Worried, they soon find that same vessel being raided by the black sailed pirate ships whose home is located in the distant southern coves of Kappan. Using their cannons, slabs of stone coated with Pyrolith dust that create grand explosions of blue fire, the rescue the vessel to find it manned by Princess Katherine and her coterie of Pyromancers, who began to pursue the Star Cutter immediately after hearing Max had returned to LaGuna.
Now a trio, Max, Heidi and Katherine brave the storms raging off the coasts of Tobra, LaGuna's greatest military rival in the Stretch. Nearly torn apart by the battering waves, Max's ignorance of the sea leads to him being swept overboard. Recovered by expert seaman Andres, Max gains a new respect for how delicate life is. Their vessel reaches the edge of all the world, the island of Goran, where they find the soul survivor of Sir Christopher's ship. They quickly learn that dragons do, indeed, dwell in the Shattered Isles, and that the vessel was most likely destroyed. They desperately follow to the edge of all things, vanishing into a fog and passing into a sea torn by ivory towers of rock jutting up from the sea. They are soon assaulted by a single dragon, and while the men attack with bows and arrows, and Princess Katherine unleashes blasts of blue green fire alongside her coterie, Heidi unleashes a weapon she has worked on since Kappan. Much like a primitive laser it focuses light into a single heated beam, except using Pyrolith stones to create lenses that energize the beam and unleashes a blast of incredible power. It successfully injures the dragon, but the creature is too strong. Destroying the deck, it nearly consumes Heidi when Max, desperate to save his friend, attacks it with his sword. It's a useless gesture, the blade snapping on the creature's nose, but the beast seems to flee anyway.
Their ship is finally carried by unseen forces to the Gate of the Sun. Dragons line all sides of the cliffs they pass through, and a gigantic, golden dragon descends from the peak of the Gate, a huge tower of stone that dwarfs all others. The beast releases Sir Christopher to them, who reveals it is his fault, as well as the king's that the sorcerer has returned. They initially set out to claim his power, which had been quiet for a thousand years, and only managed to awaken him. Katherine argues for the dragons help, out of the love she has for her people, but they will not hear her. However, Max, a traveler from outside their world, is capable of using a unique weapon which comes from beyond the dimensions. It is the same the ancient hero Marcus wielded, who was also a traveler from beyond the limits of the world of LaGuan. It is Fang, crafted from the tooth of Siev-Alm, king of the dragons. While the dragons will no longer be used by men to decide their fate, as they once did not only to defeat the sorcerer, but to enslave all the island Stretch to the LaGuna monarchy, they will at least grant them a weapon that can destroy the warlock.
Their return to LaGuna is grim. They now know it was men who drove the dragons to the Shattered Isles, thus leaving the Stretch vulnerable to the first war with the sorcerer. Then, with the king desperate to fight Tobra and reestablish military dominance over the islands, they accidentally awoke the wizard yet again. Their arrival home, though, finds a welcome sight. All the islands are united in a single effort to drive back the sorcerer, though they will claim their independence at the conclusion of the war. Heidi sets to work developing more advanced versions of her Pyrolith cannon, and is called upon to create a mammoth version, created from fifty lenses and mounted in the observatory of the palace. With Castle Vazan guarded by an energy barrier too strong to breach by any other means, their mammoth Pyrolith cannon, created from the old telescope of the palace, generates a beam of such force that the explosion that results from its beam striking the barrier creates a shock wave that creates tsunamis off the coast of LaGuna and rips the roof from the observatory.
However, the way is clear for a united assault. Led on the sea by Admiral Rowley and on the Ground by Sir Christopher, they make a concentrated assault on Castle Zavan, only to be met by the tens of thousands of Abominations guarding it. Unable to make a focused stand within its walls, Katherine and Max make a desperate run within its towers, leaving the battle outside to Christopher, aided by the Pyrolith Cannons Heidi has created to tear apart the castle's walls. Max and Katherine, though, battle their way to the heights of the castle fortress, to the Tomb of Vazan, where the sorcerer once slept. There they find a pale, ebony armored figure in scarlet robes, who claims to have known the dragons before they arrived in LaGuna, and who ruled the Stretch before mankind could use tools and before dragons had even seen that world from their journey beyond the dimensions. The throne room, a mix of the sinister, medieval and the technological, looks nothing like any other place in the entire Stretch. In the end, unable to overcome the sorcerer's power even with Fang's help, Katherine sacrifices herself to pin the man to the wall, forcing her blade through him and holding on even as her life withers. Unable to move, the sorcerer can do nothing as Max applies the final blow, only to have Katherine, who lived and fought for her people, go unconscious and nearly die in his arms.
The Abominations collapse at the death of their master, and their victory is greeted by a parting of the clouds as Siev-Alm arrives, flying to the highest tower of Vazan, where he finds Max holding the lifeless body of Katherine. Her soul, the dragon claims, has not yet passed beyond the Gate of the Sun, but the time is soon. Only at full strength can the dragon join her spirit to her body yet again, since the act of creation is far more difficult than the act of destruction, and so Max, who has never been a warrior or cared about more than his friends, eagerly gives back the blade Fang. Her life quickly returns to her, and the dragon king blesses her, wishing her a long rule as queen of LaGuna, a time that is nearing. As to Max, he warns him to be content at home, because there are far greater threats between the worlds than even a sorcerer.
The return to Vespra is met within days by cheering crowds, parades and celebrations. Both king and queen ride in the procession, along with Sir Christopher and Princess Katherine. Max and Heidi watch from the second floor of a small building along the parade route, reserved for them by Katherine. They both know it is time to go home, and though Max hasn't told Katherine, somehow he knows she's aware of what's about to happen. As the tail of the parade winds by, the princess waves to him from her carriage, understanding what's about to transpire. Max returns the gesture, sad but happy that their world is saved, and unfolds a map of earth. With Heidi's arms wrapped around him, he says a final goodbye to LaGuna, and the two friends return back to the world where they belong.
Avi, a favorite children's author of mine, reportedly would rewrite every book he wrote about forty times before even sending the first copy to the editor.
At some point I have to believe there's no more blood to be drawn from the stone.
Agents are confusing. One says my story is intriguing, the other that it's not unique enough. One says my query draws him in, the other that it's not enough.
I understand the business is subjective but, still.
Anyway, the one consistent was that my first few pages were too heavy handed with the narrator's voice and suffered as a consequence. Now with the editing done, we wait.
Thanks!
One day I shall get back to writing. It's odd, Its something I enjoy doing, and I'm not exactly stuck for ideas, but I find it hard to find the motivation to get started. Once I've started writing, I can be at it for hours, but actually starting is my hard part. I have a lot of time off work over the next week, so perhaps I'll start again then.
Mind you, I said that for the two weeks I had off for my operation, and I only managed to sit down once and write (Three A4 pages plus around 5 pages of planning. Not much but I did a lot of rewriting.)
I actually went to carry on again today, but found my tablet (which I have been using together with a bluetooth keyboard as my writing device, because I can jump into another app and make quick sketches of talismans, characters and locations) was basically dead battery wise. And that my charger is broken.
I'm the same. I haven't finished my plan for this purpose. If I get stuck on what to do next, I switch to actually writing the novel. Beefing out my old ideas helps create new ones, both for the part I'm writing and for later parts of the novel.
I have an idea of what I want to happen (A beginning, middle and end), but the journey through most of these points is still blank. I have the first third fully planned out, although I briefly considered a re-write (instead of the character discovering his talisman, he could bring them back as souvenirs from a holiday on a mysterious island. It would be a lot more believable and tie in more with the prelude, but would ruin the middle section of the book, where they race against time to collect all the talismans before the villain of the book does.)
Needs spacing between paragraphs and indents at the start of each one.
Lol. Thanks.