So I started NaNoWriMo at 12:00 a.m. Nov. 1st, 2008. To this time, 6:49 P.M., I have 4,561 words done on the story, into the beginning of the second chapter.
What is it that's caught my attention?
I'm calling it "One Year Prior", and unfortunately it's about zombies...sort of.
Alright, here goes my synopsis.
In January Sheriff Ben Jenkins of Colton County was called to the scene of a suicide in the woods. The result is wo missing brothers and an angry county in the town of Riverview, Kentucky demanding answers. Answers come soon enough in the form of government broadcasts, and Riverview must pull together to hold up against a river of the undead with Sheriff Jenkins leading the charge.
Basically, this is less about zombies and more about people at this point. The entire town of Riverview belongs to the church of Fenton Brock, an Independent Baptist preacher whose corruption is one of Riverview's many secrets. Even after the town itself is secured, even as things deteriorate in the outside, humanity turns on itself in the microcosm of a small town hidden in coal country. Law and Order versus Faith and Justice, not to mention a world falling down around their ears, drives this story so far.
I'm interested in seeing how it turns out. so far I'm shooting for 24 chapters, each one being one day of a month. Each month gets two chapters, plotting the progression of the town and of Sheriff Jenkins, how people deal with the undead, and what happens when civilization fails. I'm also thinking a wrap-up epilogue, but we'll see.
Anyhow, that's where I stand at this point on Day One.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Showing posts with label word count. Show all posts
Showing posts with label word count. Show all posts
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Heresy, Thy Name is Tabler
According to the almost-finished first draft of this story, Jesus was a good-natured guy with his eye on the prize and Judas really wasn't that horrible of a fellow. I've gotten up to the climactic scene, which I plan on finishing up tonight. Looks like it'll come in either a hair over or a hair under 4,000 words, depending on whether I decide to go with a crucifixion or not. I would finish the whole thing tonight, except no work was done on it last night.
Yesterday, after calling police departments all over the state of Ohio looking for a year old accident report (piecemeal work for my father doesn't pay amazingly well, but it never has a dull moment attached to it), I was sitting at the office watching an episode of "Law and Order" when my phone rang. It was my upstairs neighbors, good friends of ours, who had just gotten back from a family reunion in Eastern Tennessee (No, there were no zombie Dolly Partons there). I answered, thinking they were asking where we left their key as we fed the animals, to find out my wife was in the hospital.
Nothing's wrong. Apparently she's a lil anemic thanks to the multiple gestation pregnancy. For the guys like me, it means her blood pressure fluctuates because she's got more than one baby in her. She passed out while talking to our neighbors, and they rushed her to the hospital. The doctors decided to keep her overnight for observation, but everything came back alright and both she and the babies are fine. I responded by sleeping alone on the couch, staring at the Dawn of the Dead poster over the T.V., and rushing back up there this morning. She was released with orders to take extra iron supplements and be more careful around the house.
Today, while she was napping, I sat down to muscle through this story. I don't want to give a lot of plot off, just that the narrator is one of the original 12 disciples, and it shifts between first person present and first person past tense. It also rejects most of what I learned about the last days of Christ's life. I was a little disappointed, in my research, to learn that one of, if not the, main idea is a major principle of the Coptic and Gnostic belief systems, but hey. I can at least write an old idea well and see what it gets me.
Alright, time to fix dinner, eat it, and cuddle with my wife before finishing up this scene. Take'er easy, folks!
EDIT 5/13/08 - 22:56
Finished the first draft of my heresy tonight. Wife's going to read it over after she gets done talking to her brother, tomorrow I'll start the edit on it, should finish around dinner time. This is one that I'm actually gonna look for a proofreader on, so if there's anyone out there who wants to read this sucker over, I'd be happy to send it out. Will, bless him, just isn't that into religion and is definitely gonna be bored to tears within two paragraphs.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Yesterday, after calling police departments all over the state of Ohio looking for a year old accident report (piecemeal work for my father doesn't pay amazingly well, but it never has a dull moment attached to it), I was sitting at the office watching an episode of "Law and Order" when my phone rang. It was my upstairs neighbors, good friends of ours, who had just gotten back from a family reunion in Eastern Tennessee (No, there were no zombie Dolly Partons there). I answered, thinking they were asking where we left their key as we fed the animals, to find out my wife was in the hospital.
Nothing's wrong. Apparently she's a lil anemic thanks to the multiple gestation pregnancy. For the guys like me, it means her blood pressure fluctuates because she's got more than one baby in her. She passed out while talking to our neighbors, and they rushed her to the hospital. The doctors decided to keep her overnight for observation, but everything came back alright and both she and the babies are fine. I responded by sleeping alone on the couch, staring at the Dawn of the Dead poster over the T.V., and rushing back up there this morning. She was released with orders to take extra iron supplements and be more careful around the house.
Today, while she was napping, I sat down to muscle through this story. I don't want to give a lot of plot off, just that the narrator is one of the original 12 disciples, and it shifts between first person present and first person past tense. It also rejects most of what I learned about the last days of Christ's life. I was a little disappointed, in my research, to learn that one of, if not the, main idea is a major principle of the Coptic and Gnostic belief systems, but hey. I can at least write an old idea well and see what it gets me.
Alright, time to fix dinner, eat it, and cuddle with my wife before finishing up this scene. Take'er easy, folks!
EDIT 5/13/08 - 22:56
Finished the first draft of my heresy tonight. Wife's going to read it over after she gets done talking to her brother, tomorrow I'll start the edit on it, should finish around dinner time. This is one that I'm actually gonna look for a proofreader on, so if there's anyone out there who wants to read this sucker over, I'd be happy to send it out. Will, bless him, just isn't that into religion and is definitely gonna be bored to tears within two paragraphs.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Haunting Melody
I can't stop listening to Cole Porter.
Anyhow, started, edited, and finished up a piece for submission to the Northen Haunts thing today. Nothing great, though I did have to call my brother-in-law to get a little bit of advice on naming and old newspaper names up in his area. While my wife chatted for two hours, I typed, trimmed, edited, trimmed, typed, trimmed, reread, titled, and did a word count check on the piece. The first draft weighed in at a little over 1,000 words. The final draft sent out? Well..
...It was 666 words. Exactly.
I swear it wasn't intentional...
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Anyhow, started, edited, and finished up a piece for submission to the Northen Haunts thing today. Nothing great, though I did have to call my brother-in-law to get a little bit of advice on naming and old newspaper names up in his area. While my wife chatted for two hours, I typed, trimmed, edited, trimmed, typed, trimmed, reread, titled, and did a word count check on the piece. The first draft weighed in at a little over 1,000 words. The final draft sent out? Well..
...It was 666 words. Exactly.
I swear it wasn't intentional...
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Not Alone in the Dark (Sorry Nick!)
Well, I'm going to try my hand at flash fiction again, this time in a submission to the Northern Haunts anthology going out over at Shroud. God bless Duotrope, the scourge of editors where I am concerned. I wasn't going to touch it, as I have a hard enough time keeping things under a 5,000 word limit, but tongiht I think I fleshed out an idea.
Years ago my Dad told me a story about his first job, riding a bike to deliver papers, and how his pre-dawn route took him past an old graveyard that just flat out freaked him out. I finally found that old graveyard today when I was heading out to a friend's house for dinner, at least in my mind. It was one of those images that pops in your head and nags you for hours on end, refusing to let go. So, while my wife and I were enjoying the company of two dear, old friends, I was thinking about the place in my head and what could happen there to a boy on a bike.
I also think that after dinner, as Dick and I were enjoying the view from his back porch in the country, I came out with a good line. We were trading actual ghost stories, a hobby of ours, while the ladies were chatting in the living room. I was asked about my penchant for writing things that are a little off-kilter...in other words, Apocalypse stories, horror stories, dark literary stuff that involves these mind-fuck (pardon the term, I'm just a crude country boy) angles. It got me thinking as I sipped a Hornsby.
My wife, after reading a recent, non-spec. fic. piece, looked at me and said "If you ever write anything happy, I think I'll have a heart attack." Never mind that, in my opinion, it WAS a happy piece if looked at from the side and with a slight squint. It was the thought, how she said it, that got me thinking about why I write what I write. So, a few ciders down and a bottle of bourbon calling, I lit a cigarette and put it in the best way I knew how to Dick when we talked about my subject matter.
"Well," I said, "I don't mind being in darkness. It doesn't scare me. I'm not really happy with not seeing what's there around me, but it doesn't bother me too much. What bothers me, what really scares me, is sitting in the light that's surrounded by darkness. Then you have to wonder what's at the edge of the light, watching, just waiting for a lantern to burn out or the campfire to die down. That's what scares me, and I think that's why I write what I do."
Now, if I can only force myself to be a better writer and sell some of this stuff...or just to sit down and write.
If I don't post some sort of word count tomorrow, I expect anyone reading this to beat me. For now, though, I'm smoking one more cigarette and heading off to bed.
Keep the lights burning bright,
J.C. Tabler
Years ago my Dad told me a story about his first job, riding a bike to deliver papers, and how his pre-dawn route took him past an old graveyard that just flat out freaked him out. I finally found that old graveyard today when I was heading out to a friend's house for dinner, at least in my mind. It was one of those images that pops in your head and nags you for hours on end, refusing to let go. So, while my wife and I were enjoying the company of two dear, old friends, I was thinking about the place in my head and what could happen there to a boy on a bike.
I also think that after dinner, as Dick and I were enjoying the view from his back porch in the country, I came out with a good line. We were trading actual ghost stories, a hobby of ours, while the ladies were chatting in the living room. I was asked about my penchant for writing things that are a little off-kilter...in other words, Apocalypse stories, horror stories, dark literary stuff that involves these mind-fuck (pardon the term, I'm just a crude country boy) angles. It got me thinking as I sipped a Hornsby.
My wife, after reading a recent, non-spec. fic. piece, looked at me and said "If you ever write anything happy, I think I'll have a heart attack." Never mind that, in my opinion, it WAS a happy piece if looked at from the side and with a slight squint. It was the thought, how she said it, that got me thinking about why I write what I write. So, a few ciders down and a bottle of bourbon calling, I lit a cigarette and put it in the best way I knew how to Dick when we talked about my subject matter.
"Well," I said, "I don't mind being in darkness. It doesn't scare me. I'm not really happy with not seeing what's there around me, but it doesn't bother me too much. What bothers me, what really scares me, is sitting in the light that's surrounded by darkness. Then you have to wonder what's at the edge of the light, watching, just waiting for a lantern to burn out or the campfire to die down. That's what scares me, and I think that's why I write what I do."
Now, if I can only force myself to be a better writer and sell some of this stuff...or just to sit down and write.
If I don't post some sort of word count tomorrow, I expect anyone reading this to beat me. For now, though, I'm smoking one more cigarette and heading off to bed.
Keep the lights burning bright,
J.C. Tabler
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Productive Day
Went to the doctor yesterday to make sure my wife isn't going to fall apart. She's healthy, babies are healthy, however I stepped on the scale and was amazed at how much those little numbers kept going up. I'm going to act like an overly-dramatic southern belle instead of the stubble-strewn, bourbon drinking man that I am and refuse to say my exact weight. What it is suffice to say, though, is that I am closer to 300 lbs than 200 lbs, and am now in shock that I let myself go to that extent. Gym membership here I come, and I might even actually use it.
As for other things, I still haven't heard back about the Contract Load job. I have another phone interview (man I hate those things) today for a "Customer Service" slot that I don't especially think will have me jumping for joy, but it'd be a job. I sat down after getting home yesterday and started typing on a niggle of an idea on what that previously posted picture could be. I'm now roughly 5,000 words into the rough draft, and am still working towards a conclusion. Sure, it'll get trimmed in revision, but c'mon, 5,000 words in one day with only an hour's break to watch Jerry Springer in between? That ain't too bad.
Still waiting to hear from Voices on whether my triumph ends on the short list. Like I said, I'm happy just to be nominated.
Back to work,
J.C. Tabler
As for other things, I still haven't heard back about the Contract Load job. I have another phone interview (man I hate those things) today for a "Customer Service" slot that I don't especially think will have me jumping for joy, but it'd be a job. I sat down after getting home yesterday and started typing on a niggle of an idea on what that previously posted picture could be. I'm now roughly 5,000 words into the rough draft, and am still working towards a conclusion. Sure, it'll get trimmed in revision, but c'mon, 5,000 words in one day with only an hour's break to watch Jerry Springer in between? That ain't too bad.
Still waiting to hear from Voices on whether my triumph ends on the short list. Like I said, I'm happy just to be nominated.
Back to work,
J.C. Tabler
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Great Big Gobs of Greasy, Grimey..
You know the rest. Been a hectic couple of days. There's some infighting going on in the family, but that' not unusual. We're all a little off our rockers over here.
This weekend is Thunder Over Louisville, the first one that I've lived downtown for. It is a little disconcerting, to be truthful. I'm already searching for things to do this weekend that will get me out of downtown and away from the traffic. I could always just pack up the wife and laptop and head out to Ray and Angie's on Saturday, as they plan on having some sort of get together. I think it's a spectacular idea, as long as I have no plans to return home until around two in the morning due to all the road closures that'll be happening.
Got a rejection back for my "cheeky" zombie dialogue today, the same one that got sent back from Bits of the Dead. I had resubmitted it to The Town Drunk, and got another "well-written, but not quite right for us" rejection. Not bad, though. I rarely get the "this is horrible" rejection letter, and most of the time get very polite, nice, and personal ones. I see it as a point of pride that I get more personal rejections than form, though it would be nice to occassionally get a personal acceptance, you know what I mean Vern?
Rewrote the "cheeky" piece, added about 500 words or so to lengthen it a bit and put some meat on the characters. It was originally a big bit of dialogue with a few speech tags, written to pump a nice and funny lil story into 500 words or less. Adding a little bit more, I wouldn't call it a story as much as just a nice little scene, and a decent enough chuckle from everyone. After pumping in those extra words, I did a couple revisions with my Blue Pen of Death, then sent it off to Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine to get the next in a series of rejections for it. Hey, if nothing else there's always The Rejected Quarterly after two more, right? Right.
Alright, at work, finishing up soon, then grabbing chow with my folks while the little lady is at work. Then, if it's not time to pick her up, I'll head home and get some story work done on the "Creepy Doll" story, which started going a different direction the other day and may turn out to be speculative fiction after all.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
This weekend is Thunder Over Louisville, the first one that I've lived downtown for. It is a little disconcerting, to be truthful. I'm already searching for things to do this weekend that will get me out of downtown and away from the traffic. I could always just pack up the wife and laptop and head out to Ray and Angie's on Saturday, as they plan on having some sort of get together. I think it's a spectacular idea, as long as I have no plans to return home until around two in the morning due to all the road closures that'll be happening.
Got a rejection back for my "cheeky" zombie dialogue today, the same one that got sent back from Bits of the Dead. I had resubmitted it to The Town Drunk, and got another "well-written, but not quite right for us" rejection. Not bad, though. I rarely get the "this is horrible" rejection letter, and most of the time get very polite, nice, and personal ones. I see it as a point of pride that I get more personal rejections than form, though it would be nice to occassionally get a personal acceptance, you know what I mean Vern?
Rewrote the "cheeky" piece, added about 500 words or so to lengthen it a bit and put some meat on the characters. It was originally a big bit of dialogue with a few speech tags, written to pump a nice and funny lil story into 500 words or less. Adding a little bit more, I wouldn't call it a story as much as just a nice little scene, and a decent enough chuckle from everyone. After pumping in those extra words, I did a couple revisions with my Blue Pen of Death, then sent it off to Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine to get the next in a series of rejections for it. Hey, if nothing else there's always The Rejected Quarterly after two more, right? Right.
Alright, at work, finishing up soon, then grabbing chow with my folks while the little lady is at work. Then, if it's not time to pick her up, I'll head home and get some story work done on the "Creepy Doll" story, which started going a different direction the other day and may turn out to be speculative fiction after all.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Just Got Done Tonight
So I just hit the word limit for today. Finished up the third chapter, started on the fourth. Four chapters in, and I'm just now getting into the real meat of the story. Although I have a desire to keep writing tonight, I'm going to need a day to figure out how to get this chapter really up and running. My goal, now, will be to get a chapter done on each weekend day, maybe more, as well as hitting the 1,600 words I want to do every weekday. The sooner I get this done, revise it, and see if it has merit, the sooner I can get on to some of the other projects that have started niggling around in the back of my head.
Still no word from any of the other markets, although I learned something today. I learned my aunt has begun to read my journal. Personally, this freaks me out a little more than the whole preggers thing. See, I have no problem talking to the whole world when it may stumble across my doorstep like a drunken bum on a Saturday night, but family? That's a different matter. I never know what to say around my family.
Not to mention it means I can't relate any of the really funny stories about my genetic background.
My mother may also be reading this now. Expect the curses to virtually cease from this point on. No more potty mouth from me, oh no no no. I have to be a good boy now.
Well, that's that for the night. Work tomorrow, then home again to continue writing. I'll let you all know when I hear back from any of the story markets I've submitted to, if I hear back from them. And, of course, another post tomorrow about workign on the Long One, as I've named this project.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Still no word from any of the other markets, although I learned something today. I learned my aunt has begun to read my journal. Personally, this freaks me out a little more than the whole preggers thing. See, I have no problem talking to the whole world when it may stumble across my doorstep like a drunken bum on a Saturday night, but family? That's a different matter. I never know what to say around my family.
Not to mention it means I can't relate any of the really funny stories about my genetic background.
My mother may also be reading this now. Expect the curses to virtually cease from this point on. No more potty mouth from me, oh no no no. I have to be a good boy now.
Well, that's that for the night. Work tomorrow, then home again to continue writing. I'll let you all know when I hear back from any of the story markets I've submitted to, if I hear back from them. And, of course, another post tomorrow about workign on the Long One, as I've named this project.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
So I've been absent
It doesn't matter. Nobody really reads this anyhow.
Alright, so we're on the cusp of me getting the rejection from Intergalactic Medicine Show, which should be showing up any day now. In addition, I have a crap story submitted to McSweeney's in a fit of drunken pride, a story out for consideration with Aberrant Dreams, and a fourth just sent out to garner a rejection from Modern Drunkard. Duotrope is the scourge of editors where I am concerned.
The writing has taken a back seat in the last week, primarily because we've been dealing with the baby stuff. Among this was today's experience, where I found out that we're having twins. As I stated to the doctor, I'm screwed. Seriously, I'm an underpaid, oddjob working writer who hasn't sold anything since a low low low paying piece in December. I have no job after June. I need to find something with health insurance and a good pay, as well as finding a new place to live after the kiddos are born.
In other words, I'm back to freaking out. Seriously freaking out. I mean like crying in the corner freaking out.
Short stories are on the backburner right now. I've started a second piece in the "A Question of Freedom" universe that may stretch out to become a novel. I don't know yet. All I know is I'm around 6,000 words in, and it hasn't yet gotten to the main portion of the plot that will serve as the catalyst for the characters and the climax. We'll see what happens, but until I get 50 pages in (if it lasts that long) I don't want to start on any stories that may distract me too much. Starting in March I'm going to work on a few short story ideas that are bumping around, but now isn't the best time to start them. Too much going on for me to stay concentrating on several balls at once.
I'll post more tomorrow after I get a little writing done. I'd like to, if this does go novel length, do a journal on my daily writing struggles. Because of my family, school, and work obligations, my target word count per day is 1,000 to 2,000. Sometimes less, sometimes more. We'll see, right?
So that's the news from Louisville. Now, I'm heading off to bed.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
Alright, so we're on the cusp of me getting the rejection from Intergalactic Medicine Show, which should be showing up any day now. In addition, I have a crap story submitted to McSweeney's in a fit of drunken pride, a story out for consideration with Aberrant Dreams, and a fourth just sent out to garner a rejection from Modern Drunkard. Duotrope is the scourge of editors where I am concerned.
The writing has taken a back seat in the last week, primarily because we've been dealing with the baby stuff. Among this was today's experience, where I found out that we're having twins. As I stated to the doctor, I'm screwed. Seriously, I'm an underpaid, oddjob working writer who hasn't sold anything since a low low low paying piece in December. I have no job after June. I need to find something with health insurance and a good pay, as well as finding a new place to live after the kiddos are born.
In other words, I'm back to freaking out. Seriously freaking out. I mean like crying in the corner freaking out.
Short stories are on the backburner right now. I've started a second piece in the "A Question of Freedom" universe that may stretch out to become a novel. I don't know yet. All I know is I'm around 6,000 words in, and it hasn't yet gotten to the main portion of the plot that will serve as the catalyst for the characters and the climax. We'll see what happens, but until I get 50 pages in (if it lasts that long) I don't want to start on any stories that may distract me too much. Starting in March I'm going to work on a few short story ideas that are bumping around, but now isn't the best time to start them. Too much going on for me to stay concentrating on several balls at once.
I'll post more tomorrow after I get a little writing done. I'd like to, if this does go novel length, do a journal on my daily writing struggles. Because of my family, school, and work obligations, my target word count per day is 1,000 to 2,000. Sometimes less, sometimes more. We'll see, right?
So that's the news from Louisville. Now, I'm heading off to bed.
Peace,
J.C. Tabler
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