At last, I am writing a novel....slowly....

After two and a bit weeks I am now 6500ish words into my novel - being a sort of spin off from my story "The Big Three-Oh". At this, very early stage, I think I can see where it is all going, but there is enough vagueness about how we're going to get there to keep it interesting. The good thing with writing something so much larger than a short story is the way that ideas pop into being as you're writing and there is plenty of room (at least in this first draft) to let them fly. For example, I had just started writing about my character getting tortured and then rescued, but, to my surprise he started hallucinating before the torturers arrived which has led to an interesting story development. And who knew that someone had shoved pins into his tender parts? Which makes getting slung over your rescuer's shoulders no fun at all....

Todays drabble -  a wee bit of gothic horror. Only 100 words to play with, but again, this shows how things change as I write them - it just seemed a very gothic-y idea to start with someone digging up a grave.....

“This is monstrous,” wailed Lady Charlotte as I dug up her husband’s grave. When I saw her furious expression, I realised it was not this act of desecration that horrified her; but the mud that splattered her dress.

“Save your complaints,” I replied, “this might save you from the gallows.”

My spade crunched against the wood of the coffin lid. Lady Charlotte looked down in fury as I prized it off. The tattered skull of Lord Hawsham looked up at us.

“Who disturbs me?” hissed the rotting body.

“Your wife,” she spat, “now, tell the police I didn’t murder you.”

The problem with stuff like this is that I find myself asking loads more questions - so how come Lord Hawsham is in some kind of undead form, and what did Lady Charlotte have to do with it? And who is the narrator - he's not particularly polite to our Lady...hmm, something going on between them, did Lord Hawsham know? And do you know what? I have a suspicion that even if Lady Charlotte didn't murder her husband (and I'm not convinced on that one) I reckon she's got more than a few skeletons in her cupboard...

Rejections - YES, I am a WRITER!!

A couple of rejections in the past week - 'The Big Three-oh" got knocked back by 'Lightspeed' - I was a bit hasty chucking it at them to be honest, but was very impressed by their response speed, and "Trial of Blood" was knocked back by a heroic fantasy anthology - nice rejection though, saying that it was not a reflection of the quality of writing but just not a fit for their book - and an invite to submit to the press's other open submissions - which was nice....

I've made a start at a novel for "National Write a Novel in a Month" - a online group writing project, basically helping to motivate people to bash out 50,000 words in 30 days - it comes out at 1667 words a day. So far I'm about 3 days behind.

Anyhoo - "Trixie goes to work" is the title of this latest masterpiece of sci-fi - it feels pretty good so far, so we shall see if we can reach the magic 50k, and even more magic, actually get to the end without being scared to death of the inevitable re-write (and re-write and re-write...).

A bit of sci-fi drabble - Wide-Screen Space Opera - in 100 words:

The ring habitat was doomed. The swarm closed in on Humanity’s last outpost; a whole species about to be wiped out.

The Voorks cared not.

Commander Blunt of the Human defence force chuckled.

The humans had blundered through Voork space a century ago, seeding Voork worlds with their colonies. No more. The Voork had hunted down their nests and now were poised to destroy the last one.

Too late, thought Blunt as the anti-matter beams lashed through the ring. Humans were out there. Destroy as many nests as you want. Still breeding, still spreading. You can’t kill pests that easy.