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Archive for September, 2011

Progress Report, in which I return to normalcy

Drafting of Apocalypse Pictures Presents, my seventh novel, has begun.  Yes, really.  And here's your friend and mine, Magic Meter, to tell you a little more:

A very little more, as you can see.  I had to shake off some rust.

Total word count is just a guess at this point.   I begin despite doubts and fears that I won't be able to pull it off this time.  A murky middle awaits me, and the ending is a total mystery.  In other words, situation normal.

Here's a snippet, for your delectation:

Susan stepped closer to Gil, flashed a strained smile.  In a low voice, she said, "It's me, isn't it?"

Gil stopped drinking from his bottle in mid-swig and wiped his mouth.  "What?"

"It's OK.  You can say it.  I'm the reason the scene's not working, right?"

Gil studied her face, so intent and earnest, and reflected once again on how little he knew about directing.  The technical aspects were easy–once one got past niggling details like securing enough supplies to stave off dehydration and starvation, getting permission to shoot in locations overseen by heavily armed and paranoid xenophobes, and working in conditions that could charitably be called primitive, all to make a movie that very few in the country even had the equipment to view properly.  But none of Gil's skills with cameras, scripts, or automatic weapons could help him deal with an amateur actress wrestling with her own insecurities.

No updates for Write Club.

I'm out.

Progress Report, in which I stare into a white abyss

I mentioned last week that I was seriously considering jumping right in and starting the first draft of Apocalypse Pictures Presents.  And just the thought of it seemed to jar something loose in the old noggin.  In very short order, the first act took shape, as did some possible hints about the second.

Nothing like the yawning abyss of a blank page to get those creative juices flowing.

Anyway, that means I did more note-making last week, so there will be no Magic Meter today, after all.  I know, I know.  I can hear your wails of disappointment from here.  But on the upside, I feel more confident about starting this thing now.  So fear not, Magic Meter fans: you won't have long to wait.

No updates for Write Club.

I'm out.

Progress Report, in which I am at my wisest

Eked out some more notes for Apocalypse Pictures Presents, but I'm not very happy with the progress.  Had a pretty good breakthrough a few weeks ago, when I discovered my opening, but since then . . . not so much.

Last week, I mentioned how tempted I was to just jump into the first draft, and figure out the rest as I go.  Today, that temptation is even stronger.  I need to shake things up, to rattle myself out of my complacency.  Embarking on a new novel would certainly do the trick.  It would also impose some much-needed structure on my writing time.

If I decide to start drafting now, it would mark the least amount of preparation I've ever done for a novel.  I'm unsure of the wisdom of this . . . but really, if I possessed any genuine wisdom, I wouldn't be a writer of genre fiction.  Which is the wisest thing I have to say at this juncture.

So I dunno.  It's looking like Magic Meter might be making an appearance next week.  No promises or anything, but be aware that the possibility exists.

No updates for Write Club.

Laterz . . .