I started the initial outline work today on a new story. It does not have a title, but I can tell you a little bit about it. The story centers around a new patient of a young female psychologist who lives and works in a city [not sure which]. He was referred to her by a local area hospital for treatment of possible dissociative disorder [or depersonalization disorder, not sure which yet]. They meet for the first time and the psychologist is shocked to hear the man's story and personal beliefs. From that point forward her life begins to unravel as she explores the depths of her patient's psychosis; in the end, she discovers not all is as it appears.
Felt good to do something creative today; I've been missing it. I hope to keep a daily schedule going, where I work on all aspects of story-telling each day (not necessarily on one project, though). I will do this by writing my minimum number of words each morning. Then I will do my edits (did two chapters of the Preparation today). Then I will work on an outline, so I have several to pick from when I need a new project. I will also be doing research, for those outlines that are stuck for lack of background. I find it very rewarding to set it down and spend some time researching out background material. Today I wrote a whopping paragraph on this newest story before putting it aside, knowing full well I needed to do more research on psychology. It wasn't until then that I discovered DPD and DID and what their symptoms are. It has really broadened my approach to the story, allowing the characters to become much more real. Lastly, I will devote time each day to the marketing side of writing - doing tasks to build on the social platform, so I'm ready if ever I have a break out. If not, no biggy. I'm already living a dream now. But I still would love it if it ever happened. Lotto style. Publisher's Clearing House is coming up on the 30th. Maybe I'll get really lucky and spend Christmas on a tropical island!
Showing posts with label Steven Veach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Steven Veach. Show all posts
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Languishing...
I managed to edit a chapter and a half today on The Preparation. I so hate it, though - very much. It feels like I'll never be able to get it right, never get to the point where I can say, "Hey, this manuscript is in good shape. This story is tight and readable." I like the story; I have liked it since I first wrote it. God, I think it's been two years now, and here I am still working on editing it. Feels absolutely hopeless.
This is just how I feel, though. Rationally, I know I need to just press on. Every day is a new opportunity for me to BE a writer. Every day is another opportunity to live in that creative haze - that world where I am a god and control the fate of countless lives, everything resting on the sheer will of my imagination. I like this world. I love my characters. I like that I'm now exploring freely - experimenting - or, at least, wanting to. I know grammar is finite, albeit often grossly subjective. There is, though, a right and a wrong way for the most part in writing - in constructing sentences, in tightening up prose. But these are simply tools writers use. Mechanics, apparati [latin ;-)] - it is not the story, though. The story is what unfolds in the writer's mind, what takes shape as he/she sits quietly in the coffee house early in the morning in Paris, watching the sunlight stretch its narrow fingers along the narrow brickwork of the surrounding buildings. It is the characters' actions and behavior - their personalities - that slowly percolate in the author's mind as they stroll along amidst their daily affairs.
I edited a chapter and a half today. Thank God. I also did more research into Gnosticism, though it is going way too slow for me. I'm starting to feel the itch - or at least the obligation - to be writing every day again. I guess I'm missing the creating. I'm so impatient, but maybe that is a good thing.
This is just how I feel, though. Rationally, I know I need to just press on. Every day is a new opportunity for me to BE a writer. Every day is another opportunity to live in that creative haze - that world where I am a god and control the fate of countless lives, everything resting on the sheer will of my imagination. I like this world. I love my characters. I like that I'm now exploring freely - experimenting - or, at least, wanting to. I know grammar is finite, albeit often grossly subjective. There is, though, a right and a wrong way for the most part in writing - in constructing sentences, in tightening up prose. But these are simply tools writers use. Mechanics, apparati [latin ;-)] - it is not the story, though. The story is what unfolds in the writer's mind, what takes shape as he/she sits quietly in the coffee house early in the morning in Paris, watching the sunlight stretch its narrow fingers along the narrow brickwork of the surrounding buildings. It is the characters' actions and behavior - their personalities - that slowly percolate in the author's mind as they stroll along amidst their daily affairs.
I edited a chapter and a half today. Thank God. I also did more research into Gnosticism, though it is going way too slow for me. I'm starting to feel the itch - or at least the obligation - to be writing every day again. I guess I'm missing the creating. I'm so impatient, but maybe that is a good thing.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Cover Release - The Preparation - How Does it Look?
I finished the cover for The Preparation today. I was a little skeptical about getting the concept idea I had in my head out and on the computer, but I actually like the results. I think it looks pretty good, especially since I didn't pay someone $400+ to do it, nor did I have to deal with the endless flakes out there who claim to be professionals. Anyway, without further adieu - the pre-official cover for my first, upcoming novel: The Preparation. Please tell me what you think.
I don't know the exact date of official release for THE PREPARATION just yet. I know it will be after Christmas, but hopefully before the summer. I really would like to get it finished and out on Amazon so I can start getting feedback - and so I can start editing IN THE MEADOW. That is one aspect of being a writer that I do not like at all: bringing a book together takes so freaking long! Even with a traditional house, you're often looking at a year or more before your book is available. When you are self-publishing [doing it all yourself], you have complete control over every aspect of your book, but you're working alone and so it still takes FOREVER. But, I just have to be the turtle; slow and steady wins the race, right?
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Boning Up on Writing Manuals
I spent today - my second day off from actively writing in between projects - pouring through fiction writing manuals, specifically, grammar, punctuation and self-editing books. I remember when I had finished writing IN THE MEADOW and was working on the edits for my first novel, I felt like I was drowning in sand. I felt completely overwhelmed with the editing and revising process. None of my work seemed up-to-par, I felt horribly self-conscious, and I never thought in a million years I would every get even a single positive response from agents, let alone a book deal.
I feel better now. I may not be up yet on my board, but I don't feel like I'm going to fall off either when I get ready to stand. There's more confidence in what I'm writing - but more importantly - there's more confidence in what I'm learning. Hacking away slowly at the bad habits, at the awkwardness, no longer feeling that cold, clammy hand of self-doubt pushing my head under the sand quite as hard as it used to. It feels like all my jobs in the past have felt when I first started working. Those first few days are miserable. By the second week you're feeling better, but God you just want to figure everything out and stop making stupid mistakes. After the first month, you're pretty confident, but it doesn't mean you've seen everything and you could do your job in your sleep. No. That kind of intimate knowledge and confidence doesn't develop for a long time. Maybe a year. Maybe more. But it does eventually come - when you have mastered your job, when you have reached a superior level of proficiency. This is what I'm shooting for.
I see the physical writing process, the actual words on the page, as a kind of mechanism, a communications apparatus that I can use to expel my stories. Maybe once they are all gone, in print, I won't need to write anymore. Maybe there will never be an end. At this point I have another 13 books in mind, not counting sequels or multiple books in series - and most if not all of my books I can see having multiples.
Needless to say, it will be very interesting to see how this all shapes up. I don't really see myself developing a career, as if I'm making the conscious decision to do it. As the author said in the latest book I'm reading, "Writers write. Everyone else just makes excuses." That's what I'm finally doing; I'm writing. It doesn't matter if I make any money. It doesn't matter if I'm famous and get booked for the Letterman show. It doesn't matter if even my harshest critics (my family) finally see that I am successful. All that matters is that I write. To me, my stories are alive. I breathe them every day, whether I put them down on paper or not. At least, when I write them down, get them out of me, they don't haunt me in those sleepy-eyed moments before I go to sleep at night. Sometimes I think writing is a lot like breathing. Other times it's just pure hell.
Whatever it is - at least I'm no longer fighting it.
I feel better now. I may not be up yet on my board, but I don't feel like I'm going to fall off either when I get ready to stand. There's more confidence in what I'm writing - but more importantly - there's more confidence in what I'm learning. Hacking away slowly at the bad habits, at the awkwardness, no longer feeling that cold, clammy hand of self-doubt pushing my head under the sand quite as hard as it used to. It feels like all my jobs in the past have felt when I first started working. Those first few days are miserable. By the second week you're feeling better, but God you just want to figure everything out and stop making stupid mistakes. After the first month, you're pretty confident, but it doesn't mean you've seen everything and you could do your job in your sleep. No. That kind of intimate knowledge and confidence doesn't develop for a long time. Maybe a year. Maybe more. But it does eventually come - when you have mastered your job, when you have reached a superior level of proficiency. This is what I'm shooting for.
I see the physical writing process, the actual words on the page, as a kind of mechanism, a communications apparatus that I can use to expel my stories. Maybe once they are all gone, in print, I won't need to write anymore. Maybe there will never be an end. At this point I have another 13 books in mind, not counting sequels or multiple books in series - and most if not all of my books I can see having multiples.
Needless to say, it will be very interesting to see how this all shapes up. I don't really see myself developing a career, as if I'm making the conscious decision to do it. As the author said in the latest book I'm reading, "Writers write. Everyone else just makes excuses." That's what I'm finally doing; I'm writing. It doesn't matter if I make any money. It doesn't matter if I'm famous and get booked for the Letterman show. It doesn't matter if even my harshest critics (my family) finally see that I am successful. All that matters is that I write. To me, my stories are alive. I breathe them every day, whether I put them down on paper or not. At least, when I write them down, get them out of me, they don't haunt me in those sleepy-eyed moments before I go to sleep at night. Sometimes I think writing is a lot like breathing. Other times it's just pure hell.
Whatever it is - at least I'm no longer fighting it.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Finished Manuscript of Seeking Light Aurora !!!
Flash forward to last month and I read a book called I Could do Anything if I Only Knew What it Was. This book was phenomenal. It helped me deal with some of the many issues related to writing, building a writing career and life in general - especially dealing with my past.
Once I got my mentality properly adjusted, and realized [decided] that I really did want to write as a vocation - and hopefully my career [professionally, i.e. get paid to do it] - I set to work and completed the summary outline for Our Daughter. Then I shelved it to get some space and worked up the summary for Seeking Light Aurora. I became so enamored with the characters in this story that I decided to write it before Our Daughter.
It wasn't until I was about forty pages into it that I realized it was not a very long story - definitely not typical novel length. I, of course, started to worry, running that tape in my head, "You're not good enough. You can't even write a full length book. You'll never make it work. You might as well give up."
I didn't give up, though. I did a little research on novellas and discovered they work in perfectly with writing larger books. It can be used as a free give-away, it can be sold alongside other, novel length titles, etc. It can even be incorporated with several other novellas and published as a collection. It's perfect, because I really didn't want to try and add more scenes [padding] to the story line. I really like it the way it is.
I also found out that it is best to wait on running any big marketing campaigns until I have at last four books in print and ready for public consumption. This way there are several available titles for readers to buy and read while I have new titles in the works.
I also want to focus some significant time on reading/working through the grammar/English/writing books I have, and also the software and exercises available online. My goal is to hack my writing process to the point that I am producing much better work exponentially rather than sequentially or worse, remain flat-lined in my growth as a writer. I'm really starting to embrace the idea of developing my craft as a writer and also I think I might actually enjoy the marketing aspects online. It's just the face to face interaction I never could stomach.
At any rate, here's to trying.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Quick Writing Today...
Well, I was a bit surprised at how easily the words flowed out of me this morning. I almost took the day off, too. When I got up I was again late by an hour. As I opened the gate and headed into the main house to take a shower, it hit me that all I really wanted to do was go back to bed and find a good movie to watched. But, I pushed myself and tried to snap out of it.
I got to my computer about two hours later and fired up the Aurora file and away I went. On one of the last scenes and the descriptions just unfolded like they were an old, familiar book I hadn't seen in years. I love writing.
I'm really excited to be almost done. I got around 1200 words in today, but not very much in way of editing THE PREPARATION. I really hate editing. It's so boring and tedious. I just want to run it through a program that will clean it all up for me. I want an editor on call that I can just email the manuscript off to and it will come back a shiny new bestseller. Of course, the real world doesn't work like that. I don't think it even works like that for traditional authors who have a whole staff working with them to get a book out.
My plan is to finish this edit [I'm currently on chapter 7 and there are 42 chapters in the book] and then run each scene through White Smoke. Then I plan to put it away for about a week, coming back to do a final read through/edit (but hopefully only light). Then once more through White Smoke and then format, covert to .mobi format (or whatever Kindle needs) and plan a release date. Then I have to look at setting up a blog tour and whatever other promotional avenues I plan to take. I think at that point (before) the actual release, I'll need to write up a business/marketing plan for the individual book in particular: define what my short, mid, long range goals are, what kind of profit I'm hoping to generate, what my benchmarks will look like and how I will measure my progress, etc. Should be fun. What is nice is that it all can be done online. This is what really attracted me back to publishing and writing. I don't work well face to face. I really just don't like the idea of sitting in a physical book store 8-16 hours a day on a signing tour trying to pump people to buy, shaking hands, doing small talk. I much prefer doing my reader interaction over the internet, asynchronous. It's so intuitive for me, I doubt that I would consider it work at all. Ever.
Editing, on the other hand, I consider grueling, tedious, laborious, gut-wrenching, eye gouging WORK!!!!
I got to my computer about two hours later and fired up the Aurora file and away I went. On one of the last scenes and the descriptions just unfolded like they were an old, familiar book I hadn't seen in years. I love writing.
I'm really excited to be almost done. I got around 1200 words in today, but not very much in way of editing THE PREPARATION. I really hate editing. It's so boring and tedious. I just want to run it through a program that will clean it all up for me. I want an editor on call that I can just email the manuscript off to and it will come back a shiny new bestseller. Of course, the real world doesn't work like that. I don't think it even works like that for traditional authors who have a whole staff working with them to get a book out.
My plan is to finish this edit [I'm currently on chapter 7 and there are 42 chapters in the book] and then run each scene through White Smoke. Then I plan to put it away for about a week, coming back to do a final read through/edit (but hopefully only light). Then once more through White Smoke and then format, covert to .mobi format (or whatever Kindle needs) and plan a release date. Then I have to look at setting up a blog tour and whatever other promotional avenues I plan to take. I think at that point (before) the actual release, I'll need to write up a business/marketing plan for the individual book in particular: define what my short, mid, long range goals are, what kind of profit I'm hoping to generate, what my benchmarks will look like and how I will measure my progress, etc. Should be fun. What is nice is that it all can be done online. This is what really attracted me back to publishing and writing. I don't work well face to face. I really just don't like the idea of sitting in a physical book store 8-16 hours a day on a signing tour trying to pump people to buy, shaking hands, doing small talk. I much prefer doing my reader interaction over the internet, asynchronous. It's so intuitive for me, I doubt that I would consider it work at all. Ever.
Editing, on the other hand, I consider grueling, tedious, laborious, gut-wrenching, eye gouging WORK!!!!
Sunday, November 6, 2011
First Scene Excerpt from THE PREPARATION...
“No, Sharece,” Anton said again.
He took a sip from his morning coffee and set the cup down, irritated his daughter had just brought up the trip again. He knew it was important to her - really important. But he was only trying to look out for her, trying to protect her.
“But, Dad.” Sharece said, insistent. “Kali and Bridget are going and it's only David and Jerry and Jerry's friend San. What's the problem? It's New York. Big deal.” She sighed. “Dad, it's the Plain White T's, and you just don't get luck like that. Besides, Jerry won the tickets so it's not like it's going to cost you anything.”
Anton could barely see her feet from where he sat at the kitchen table. She was on the sofa in the living room, watching one of her mindless television shows again.
At least she has the volume down, Anton thought. But, with her jabbering at him endlessly about the trip, he doubt that he would be able to finish the newspaper anyway.
“Dad, come on.”
“I'm not comfortable with it, that's all.” Anton said, dropping the paper in disgust. “Maybe if a parent was going. Or, maybe if it wasn't for overnight.”
“But..uh..” Sharece scrambled for a new slant to her argument. “...Mom's okay with it.”
Anton closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his index fingers. Why does this have to be so tough, he thought. Why can't she just drop it? And why was she bringing Emma into it again?
"Maybe your mother is okay with it," Anton said, as he folded the newspaper in half, got up from the table and tossed the paper on the island. "But I am your father, Sharece, and I have an opinion about this. The decision is final.” He walked into the living room, heading toward his study. "I just don't trust those boys, Sharece. I'm sorry."
She glared at him as he walked by and then looked back at the television.
"Why not?" Sharece said, her fuse now lit. "What you really mean is, you don't trust me!"
"No, I didn't say that, honey," Anton said from inside his study.
He came back out with his keys and briefcase in hand, and struggling to put on his jacket. He was thankful to already be dressed for work. It was a lecture day, which meant the best part of his job: a captive audience.
"All three of the guys going are from Church, dad.” Sharece said, her words pointed and aimed to cut at him. “You still don't trust them, but you say you're a Christian?"
Anton didn't acknowledge her fight and walked through the living room and back into the kitchen.
"What does that say about you, huh, dad?” Sharece said, getting up from the sofa to follow him.
"Sharece. Really, that's enough. I said no already.” He stopped midway to the back door. “Oh crap. My cell. Where's my cell?”
“When are you going to let me grow up?” She said, exasperated. She stood need the table, staring down at the floor, ready and waiting for another fight.
“You will have plenty of time to grow up, Sharece.” Anton said. “You just have to trust us to know what is best for you while you are still young." He patted his pockets but couldn't find his phone anywhere.
On the filing cabinet. You plugged it in last night to charge, remember?
"Sharece, is there any way we could continue this conversation later?” Anton asked, as he turned around and pushed passed her, heading back toward his study. “I'm running late for work this morning and I have lectures."
"Ya. Whatever.” Sharece said, storming off down the hallway toward her bedroom.
Anton could hear her mumbling something under her breath as she went, but he couldn't tell exactly what it was. Then she yelled back at him as she reached her bedroom door.
“Let me know when you want to stop controlling my life.”
Anton shook his head and flinched as he heard her bedroom door slam and her scream at the top of her lungs.
“Hypocrite! I hate you!"
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he made his way back into the study. He grabbed his phone and unplugged it, slipping it into his pants pocket.
“That's everything.” He said out loud.
As he got back to the kitchen, he caught a glimpse of Emma coming out of the laundry room midway down the hall.
"What was that?" She asked, looking back at him.
"Nothing.” Anton said, shaking his head again. “Just Sharece being Sharece."
Emma didn't respond, but just turned and disappeared back into the laundry room.
Anton sighed. It's no use; life is miserable. Lectures. Oh crap. Lecture day.
“You're going to be late for class if you don't get a move on,” Anton said, dislodging himself from his self-pity long enough to make it to the back door.
He tried to juggle his brief case and keys with one hand as he struggled to look at his wrist watch. God, he hated being late for class.
He walked through the open garage door and went out around the side of the house to his parked car. He hit the security button on the key chain and opened the door after it chirped a few times at him.
He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. The car started without a hitch and Anton made quick work of throwing the Saab into reverse and backing up to get enough room to pull around and get out onto the street.
You made it, he thought. Another morning done, and without too much drama from his wife or daughter. Not bad. He couldn't shake Sharece's badgering accusations, though, and it gnawed at him, making him wonder why he wouldn't let her go on this trip in the first place. Why was he so against her going?
Because she was young - too young. She was smart for her age, but probably too smart for her own good. And she was only sixteen! Too damn young! There was no way he was going to let her run off to the city with a bunch of boys - no matter if they were with the Church youth group or not. He had been their age before. He knew what it was like. Not a chance in hell – even if it meant another fight with Emma. So be it.
Anton pulled onto the side street that connected his neighborhood with Parkway Avenue, two blocks away. In between the houses he could already see traffic backing up.
At least you don't have to drive across the river; what a nightmare that would be!
Too many people in Trenton. Too many.
He got to the intersection, blowing through two lights at Pennington Road and Olden Avenue, but had to stopped behind a delivery truck where Pennington intersected with Green Lane.
As he waited, Anton turned on the radio and hitting the scan button, then settled back into his leather seat, feeling the heat start to work up his lower back as the seat warmer started to kick in.
It wasn't like he wanted to keep his daughter from having a life. He knew she was going to have to grow up someday; she was growing up now. He just wanted to protect her - even if it meant protecting her from herself if necessary. But he couldn't help shake the feeling that he was smothering her.
Tyranical. Isn't that what she called you the other day? Anton chuckled.
The radio stopped at the Calvin Code Morning Roadway Show, and Anton listened to Calvin who was talking with a driver stuck on the Expressway because some idiot had jack-knifed his semi ahead of him, spilling cases of soda all over the road.
Anton smiled and anxiously tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. The light ahead turned green and the delivery truck's break lights went dark. A moment later, the truck lumbered forward and Anton turned right onto Green Lane, heading toward campus.
The baseball field in Ackerman Park came into view on the left in sporadic breaks within the trees that lined the left side of the road. A few minutes later, he turned onto campus, drove past the townhouses, past the stadium, and then pulled into the parking lot in front of the School of Business building.
Southwest corner of campus. Tucked away into his own little world. Anton's office and the lecture hall. It was his paradise; his oasis from the relentless drain of family life.
He had three lectures today. Economics, Survey of Macro-Economics, and Statistical Anomalies in Third World Development.
“Captive audience,” He said, smiling.
Anton opened the car door and felt the chilled air cut through his thin jacket. In the middle of April, it should have been warmer. But the weather report was still calling for possible rain, even maybe another week of lower than normal temperatures. He had managed to get that far in the morning paper before Sharece's ranting.
He turned around and got his brief case from the back seat, making sure he had his cell phone and his keys.
“Wallet?” He said, feeling in his back pocket. “Check.”
Anton shut the door and pressed the LOCK button on the key chain. The Saab's head lights flashed and the alarm set; double chirp. He stepped up onto the sidewalk and made his way to the front entrance of the Business Building. The lecture hall was on the first floor, near the back of the building, in the Edmire Room.
He glanced at his watch. 8:58 A.M. Two minutes before classes started.
Captive Audience.
He took a sip from his morning coffee and set the cup down, irritated his daughter had just brought up the trip again. He knew it was important to her - really important. But he was only trying to look out for her, trying to protect her.
“But, Dad.” Sharece said, insistent. “Kali and Bridget are going and it's only David and Jerry and Jerry's friend San. What's the problem? It's New York. Big deal.” She sighed. “Dad, it's the Plain White T's, and you just don't get luck like that. Besides, Jerry won the tickets so it's not like it's going to cost you anything.”
Anton could barely see her feet from where he sat at the kitchen table. She was on the sofa in the living room, watching one of her mindless television shows again.
At least she has the volume down, Anton thought. But, with her jabbering at him endlessly about the trip, he doubt that he would be able to finish the newspaper anyway.
“Dad, come on.”
“I'm not comfortable with it, that's all.” Anton said, dropping the paper in disgust. “Maybe if a parent was going. Or, maybe if it wasn't for overnight.”
“But..uh..” Sharece scrambled for a new slant to her argument. “...Mom's okay with it.”
Anton closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with his index fingers. Why does this have to be so tough, he thought. Why can't she just drop it? And why was she bringing Emma into it again?
"Maybe your mother is okay with it," Anton said, as he folded the newspaper in half, got up from the table and tossed the paper on the island. "But I am your father, Sharece, and I have an opinion about this. The decision is final.” He walked into the living room, heading toward his study. "I just don't trust those boys, Sharece. I'm sorry."
She glared at him as he walked by and then looked back at the television.
"Why not?" Sharece said, her fuse now lit. "What you really mean is, you don't trust me!"
"No, I didn't say that, honey," Anton said from inside his study.
He came back out with his keys and briefcase in hand, and struggling to put on his jacket. He was thankful to already be dressed for work. It was a lecture day, which meant the best part of his job: a captive audience.
"All three of the guys going are from Church, dad.” Sharece said, her words pointed and aimed to cut at him. “You still don't trust them, but you say you're a Christian?"
Anton didn't acknowledge her fight and walked through the living room and back into the kitchen.
"What does that say about you, huh, dad?” Sharece said, getting up from the sofa to follow him.
"Sharece. Really, that's enough. I said no already.” He stopped midway to the back door. “Oh crap. My cell. Where's my cell?”
“When are you going to let me grow up?” She said, exasperated. She stood need the table, staring down at the floor, ready and waiting for another fight.
“You will have plenty of time to grow up, Sharece.” Anton said. “You just have to trust us to know what is best for you while you are still young." He patted his pockets but couldn't find his phone anywhere.
On the filing cabinet. You plugged it in last night to charge, remember?
"Sharece, is there any way we could continue this conversation later?” Anton asked, as he turned around and pushed passed her, heading back toward his study. “I'm running late for work this morning and I have lectures."
"Ya. Whatever.” Sharece said, storming off down the hallway toward her bedroom.
Anton could hear her mumbling something under her breath as she went, but he couldn't tell exactly what it was. Then she yelled back at him as she reached her bedroom door.
“Let me know when you want to stop controlling my life.”
Anton shook his head and flinched as he heard her bedroom door slam and her scream at the top of her lungs.
“Hypocrite! I hate you!"
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he made his way back into the study. He grabbed his phone and unplugged it, slipping it into his pants pocket.
“That's everything.” He said out loud.
As he got back to the kitchen, he caught a glimpse of Emma coming out of the laundry room midway down the hall.
"What was that?" She asked, looking back at him.
"Nothing.” Anton said, shaking his head again. “Just Sharece being Sharece."
Emma didn't respond, but just turned and disappeared back into the laundry room.
Anton sighed. It's no use; life is miserable. Lectures. Oh crap. Lecture day.
“You're going to be late for class if you don't get a move on,” Anton said, dislodging himself from his self-pity long enough to make it to the back door.
He tried to juggle his brief case and keys with one hand as he struggled to look at his wrist watch. God, he hated being late for class.
He walked through the open garage door and went out around the side of the house to his parked car. He hit the security button on the key chain and opened the door after it chirped a few times at him.
He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. The car started without a hitch and Anton made quick work of throwing the Saab into reverse and backing up to get enough room to pull around and get out onto the street.
You made it, he thought. Another morning done, and without too much drama from his wife or daughter. Not bad. He couldn't shake Sharece's badgering accusations, though, and it gnawed at him, making him wonder why he wouldn't let her go on this trip in the first place. Why was he so against her going?
Because she was young - too young. She was smart for her age, but probably too smart for her own good. And she was only sixteen! Too damn young! There was no way he was going to let her run off to the city with a bunch of boys - no matter if they were with the Church youth group or not. He had been their age before. He knew what it was like. Not a chance in hell – even if it meant another fight with Emma. So be it.
Anton pulled onto the side street that connected his neighborhood with Parkway Avenue, two blocks away. In between the houses he could already see traffic backing up.
At least you don't have to drive across the river; what a nightmare that would be!
Too many people in Trenton. Too many.
He got to the intersection, blowing through two lights at Pennington Road and Olden Avenue, but had to stopped behind a delivery truck where Pennington intersected with Green Lane.
As he waited, Anton turned on the radio and hitting the scan button, then settled back into his leather seat, feeling the heat start to work up his lower back as the seat warmer started to kick in.
It wasn't like he wanted to keep his daughter from having a life. He knew she was going to have to grow up someday; she was growing up now. He just wanted to protect her - even if it meant protecting her from herself if necessary. But he couldn't help shake the feeling that he was smothering her.
Tyranical. Isn't that what she called you the other day? Anton chuckled.
The radio stopped at the Calvin Code Morning Roadway Show, and Anton listened to Calvin who was talking with a driver stuck on the Expressway because some idiot had jack-knifed his semi ahead of him, spilling cases of soda all over the road.
Anton smiled and anxiously tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. The light ahead turned green and the delivery truck's break lights went dark. A moment later, the truck lumbered forward and Anton turned right onto Green Lane, heading toward campus.
The baseball field in Ackerman Park came into view on the left in sporadic breaks within the trees that lined the left side of the road. A few minutes later, he turned onto campus, drove past the townhouses, past the stadium, and then pulled into the parking lot in front of the School of Business building.
Southwest corner of campus. Tucked away into his own little world. Anton's office and the lecture hall. It was his paradise; his oasis from the relentless drain of family life.
He had three lectures today. Economics, Survey of Macro-Economics, and Statistical Anomalies in Third World Development.
“Captive audience,” He said, smiling.
Anton opened the car door and felt the chilled air cut through his thin jacket. In the middle of April, it should have been warmer. But the weather report was still calling for possible rain, even maybe another week of lower than normal temperatures. He had managed to get that far in the morning paper before Sharece's ranting.
He turned around and got his brief case from the back seat, making sure he had his cell phone and his keys.
“Wallet?” He said, feeling in his back pocket. “Check.”
Anton shut the door and pressed the LOCK button on the key chain. The Saab's head lights flashed and the alarm set; double chirp. He stepped up onto the sidewalk and made his way to the front entrance of the Business Building. The lecture hall was on the first floor, near the back of the building, in the Edmire Room.
He glanced at his watch. 8:58 A.M. Two minutes before classes started.
Captive Audience.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
729 Words [The Calories in a Totino's Pizza]
I will say, writing today was difficult. I struggled to get the words down and the story seems to be floundering under a lot of self-doubt and negative personal criticism. Just a part of the territory, I suppose. When in doubt, I just have to keep writing. Pizza helps. Especially Totino's.
On a brighter side of things, I added a few more things to the blog, and I think [maybe] I will be getting a top level domain soon and have a static website, along with my blog here. I know Amanda Hocking does not have a static site [yet]. I'm sure the good people at St. Martin's Press will be putting one up for her soon. So, it is probably better to say, Amanda Hocking became a successful Indie writer without a top level domain. I just can't stand the cost, even if it is only $10. And I can even get it for a few dollars the first year and I'm still struggling to get it. I think the biggest resistance is - I worry that I'm going to wake up tomorrow and quit writing again. Then I'll have wasted that money on a domain that I'll just let lapse again. I've done it before. www.stevenveach.com is available again. It used to be owned by a Steven who is an artist. Apparently he doesn't keep domains alive either.
Anyway, I figured you would like my pizza word mash this morning. It's making me hungry. And I even have Totino's Pizza in the freezer! Yum!
Friday, November 4, 2011
Skipped a Day
I managed to knock out 1100+ words this morning and also finished editing a scene with Campbell Shaw in THE PREPARATION. Editing is, by far, the worst part of writing books. I literally hate it most of the time. Going over my writing again and again, even though I know I'm going to miss something, constantly thinking my work is never good enough, knowing full-well someone is going to find an error and use that one error as reason to give me a bad review. I just have to shrug, and throw my hands up in the air. Just keep plugging away at it. Tomorrow is another day. The more I mull it over in my mind, the more I feel my personality and disposition are perfect for a writing career. So I just have to keep editing and not worry about it.
I also have been thinking that SEEKING LIGHT AURORA will end up being a novella, simply because it will be only around 25,000-50,000 words when I'm finished. It's a short/quick story and most of it takes place in one room, or at least 90% of it does. We will see. It will definitely be a $0.99 center on Amazon. I'm pretty excited about it, though. I'm curious to find out what others think.
In other news, at the recommendation of my cousin, I started a new TV series yesterday called The Walking Dead. I saw a preview of it and thought it pretty hokey, but on his insistence, I watched the first episode and ended up downloading a bunch more. It's really good so far. I like zombie movies for the most part, if they are well done. My favorites are: 28 Days Later/28 Weeks Later and Resident Evil 1, 2, 3, 4 [not the cartoon, no thanks]. If you get a chance watch The Walking Dead on AMC. It's great!
I also have been thinking that SEEKING LIGHT AURORA will end up being a novella, simply because it will be only around 25,000-50,000 words when I'm finished. It's a short/quick story and most of it takes place in one room, or at least 90% of it does. We will see. It will definitely be a $0.99 center on Amazon. I'm pretty excited about it, though. I'm curious to find out what others think.
In other news, at the recommendation of my cousin, I started a new TV series yesterday called The Walking Dead. I saw a preview of it and thought it pretty hokey, but on his insistence, I watched the first episode and ended up downloading a bunch more. It's really good so far. I like zombie movies for the most part, if they are well done. My favorites are: 28 Days Later/28 Weeks Later and Resident Evil 1, 2, 3, 4 [not the cartoon, no thanks]. If you get a chance watch The Walking Dead on AMC. It's great!
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Amazon Author Central - Great People !!!
Within 24 hours my middle name was gone and the person working on my ticket even set me a personal email telling me it was done. She said she loved reading my bio and that she was "also waiting!" [It's the same bio that is on this website so look to the right] Needless to say, that was a great boost for an otherwise pretty crappy day. No typical theological ranting, no denominational slamming: just the purity and simplicity of witness and edification. Two people passing by, ever so briefly communicating with one another, surely never to cross paths again for the rest of our lives - and, yet, we managed to both impact each other with words. And that's all it takes. You don't need money or vast organizations. All you need is words - maybe a paragraph will do, maybe just a sentence, maybe all it will take is a phrase. In this case, it was the simple message at the bottom of my bio:
I await the return of Christ.....
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
A Writer's Book Launch 2.0
Well, I knocked out 1600+ words this morning and more edits after that. I sure would like to get up to 3-4k per day. Maybe in a perfect world after I retire. We'll see. I looked online tonight for information on blog tours and found some interesting options. I also stumbled onto this video I though you would enjoy. Check it out.
Wasn't that great? I thought it was hilarious. Anyway, once I find out some more info on blog tours, etc I will post it here the blog. It does appear as if it is possible to make a go of this writing career. I definitely don't have a shortage of story ideas. Editing is a real bear, though. But I'm finding this is pretty much the case with most writers. Editing is a pain, seemingly endless, yet never good enough no matter what you do or how many times you do it.
Anyway, I will keep you posted. ;-)
Wasn't that great? I thought it was hilarious. Anyway, once I find out some more info on blog tours, etc I will post it here the blog. It does appear as if it is possible to make a go of this writing career. I definitely don't have a shortage of story ideas. Editing is a real bear, though. But I'm finding this is pretty much the case with most writers. Editing is a pain, seemingly endless, yet never good enough no matter what you do or how many times you do it.
Anyway, I will keep you posted. ;-)
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