Achievement Unlocked: Write a Novel!

So yesterday I wrote two words. Well, actually I wrote 4,446 words, which is actually a new daily record for me. But within those, I wrote two specific words: “The End.”

After just over a year of writing, and 112,956 words later, I finished the first draft of my first real novel. (Those who know recall that I wrote a novel in High School, but that was really just a 50,000 word inside joke)

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The story is called Bloodlines, and it follows a man named Matthew Drake. He works for a private security firm, which is hired to protect a team of researchers who are investigating a plague in China. The plague has a ridiculously high mortality rate, and the survivors exhibit very strange behavior. While there, he also starts to encounter some questions about his own heritage.

So…yeah, the above blurb isn’t that great. But I’ve been busy working on the book, not so much on a blurb.

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In the process of writing Bloodlines, I’ve learned a lot about writing. Looking at my first chapter, and my last, the progression of my prose is incredible. I am a far better writer now than I  was a year ago, and pumping out almost 200,000 words (I wrote a few short stories as well) was a big part of that.

I also have gained an incredible appreciation and sympathy for screenwriters, specifically regarding plot holes. Good crap, I have so many plot holes in my book that I’ll need to fix in revision. You could sail an entire U.S. carrier group through the plot holes in Bloodlines. Phew!

Juggling view points, writing a female character that is her own character, prose, pacing, engaging the senses, world building, and a lot of other things I still haven’t recognized yet. I’ve made progress in all of these.

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I finished a first draft. What’s next? (I’ve had a few people ask)

I’m not going to try to get Bloodlines published at this point. It is still a very rough story, and my first novel, I’ve got a lot of revising, and a lot of learning to do. In fact, Bloodlines won’t be the first novel that I want to be published. It is a solid story, but not what I want as my debut.

Right now I’m planning a novel for NaNoWriMo. NaNoWriMo is an annual decentralized “event,” basically a challenge to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. So, I’m planning for that, and then I’ll write it, start to finish, in November.

After that, I am planning on taking Brandon Sanderson’s writing class during next semester (Fingers crossed.) The homework for that class is to write a 30,000 novella.

In addition to writing the novella next semester (I write fast) I’m going to do some revising of Bloodlines, and get started on my next novel, which will be a fantasy.

Then I’m going to write the sequel to Bloodlines.

Finally, after that I am going to write a fantasy novel, which I’ve given the working title of “Succession.” That will be the novel which I try to get published as my debut novel. If all goes well, I should finish that book early 2016, with a goal of being published by the end of that year.

So, finishing Bloodlines is a huge milestone and accomplishment for me, but I’ve still got a long way to go before I become a best-selling author.

Last night I was talking with a few friends, and somehow we got on the topic of my writing. I started explaining one of my short stories, and someone expressed interest, and I ended up spending the next 45 minutes reading UEC Falcon. Three people ended up listening to the story, and although it was hard on my voice, it was really gratifying to experience people being interested in my writing.

It was almost as gratifying as the writing of UEC Falcon.

So I've been stewing on this story idea for several weeks. I had a core idea for the
 story: There is a military spaceship with only one engineer on board. The ship normally has a crew of hundreds, but it is just the one, and he can't remember what happened. This was an idea, but alone it wasn't enough for a story. I let the idea mull over in my head for a while, and work shopped it with my Writers Group. With their help, I got a few more scenes plotted out, developed an ending, and had a general overview of the story, but I still didn't feel ready to write it. There were missing pieces, and plot elements that didn't quite fit together.

So I continued to mull it over in my head. Then, on a Thursday or Friday, I was thinking about the story as I left work to get lunch, and as I was walking, pieces started falling into place until I had the entire story laid out before me. Everything fit together, it had a beginning, a middle, and an end, And I figured out how it would fit into the larger Nakt story line.

So I went home that evening, and typed up a scene-by-scene outline. Over that weekend and the next Monday/Tuesday I wrote a first draft of the story, clocking in a just over 7,000 words. Monday was the best part. I was recovering from a fever and so stayed home from work, I didn't feel sick, but I felt very fatigued. So after resting for a bit, I sat down to write. I wrote a scene, and then another, then decided to get to the scene after the next one. Two hours later, I had written just shy of 3,000 words. This was the most I've ever written in a single day.

The writing just flowed onto the screen. It was incredibly gratifying.

Revival

I haven't posted to this blog in a while.

Over this year (2014) I've become more serious about being a writer. I took a Creative Writing Lecture class from Brandon Sanderson this past winter semester, and I'm planning on doing his workshop class next winter semester. Plus, my main writer's group has become more regular in meeting, and better in critiquing. Along with all this, I'm trying to write 7,000 words a week.

It'll be several years, and a good number of no-so-great novel drafts before I become an actual accomplished author, but I want to get into good habits now that will help me reach that goal. Things such as writing every day, and maintaining a blog.

Another good habit to get into is accountability. So on those lines, here are the main writing projects I working on right now:



Bloodlines.
This is a SciFi/Thriller novel I'm working on. A mysterious plague breaks loose in several places around the world. The plague is lethal and spreading, and the survivors are exhibiting weird symptoms. Matthew Drake, a retired soldier who works for a private security firm, gets drawn in to these events.

I plan on this being the first book in a trilogy, but this isn't going to be the first book I try to get published. This book, and possibly its sequels are intended to be practice. I've written twelve chapters thus far, and I can already see ways that I am improving.

Nakt
This is going to be a series of SciFi short stories. The plan is for each one to stand on its own as a story, but for aspects of the stories to connect in an over arching plot. I don't know how it will work out, but I'm going to experiment. I've already written a first draft of one story, and I've outlined a second. I'd like to get a couple of these stories published, but again I'm not an awesome writer yet, so we'll see.

Succession
This one is a fantasy novel. I've got a few cool ideas that are coming together, but not a full story yet. I want this to be the novel I try to get published in a few years. In that vein, I'm not actually writing it yet. I'm working on world-building and plot-building. I also plan to write a few short stories, and maybe even a novella or two set in this world to help me explore it.



So those are the overarching projects I'm working on in my head. A bit more specifically:

Bloodlines, Draft 1:	40%
Outpost 17-C, Draft 2:	30%
UEC Falcon, Draft 1:	10%

That is where I am right now, and where I am heading as a writer.

Fading into Solace

By Xander Hacking

The Silence, but for wind,

Woven through the lonely trees.

The forest sleeps upon sharp cliffs,

Resolute, high and firm above the sea.

A single hollow cabin,           

Grasps the fading heat

Of a fire long-since lit.

Flames licking, falling to sleep.

Dawn has long risen.

Twilight soon descends

Hastened by the gray clouds,

Which yet withhold their rain.

This tapestry of Solace --

Though filled with scent and sound --

Leaves a mind alone

To face its own stirring depths.

-           -           -

Though the memory is of but a moment

The feelings are etched deep.

Her face is gone from recollection

(Was it ever even there?)

But her gleaming auburn hair:

Forever set in stone.

Her name escapes my thought,

No matter how I try.

The cloud and mist of wakefulness

Plunder much from my mind.

My heart cries she was important,

That she meant so much to me.

I remember, we were running,

Something, something, dark close behind.

I must keep her safe.

Give everything to protect her.

-           -           -

As now I stare unending

Where eternal waves meet slate sky,

I wish to know the answers,

Hidden, lost, stolen from my mind.

I am left with only questions,

Uncertain of her fate.

Did I keep her safe? Or did I fail?

The once sharp image blurs.

The memory feels so real. But is it?

Was she? 

Courage of The Captain

By Xander Hacking.

Dim the fires smolder,
Their tenders cold and hard.
The few still burning brightly,
Warm the broken, stooping men.

The field was green and peaceful,
But such seems ages past.
Littered with the fallen,
It sleeps now in dark and ash.

This is not the first day,
(We pray it be the last)
When our strength faltered,
And hope seems gone and past.

A figure emerges from the night,
Towards us huddled living.
His eyes are wet in mourning,
But bright with courage burning.

He puts his hand upon the shoulder,
Of every broken man.
We stand a little taller,
As we recall His Plan.

"We fight for something greater,
Than thrones and kings of man.
This day was a costly battle,
But we will rise again.
The path we tread 's not easy,
But Joy is ours come the end."

As our Captain parted,
His light lingered in our eyes.
Though our wounds still festered,
We no longer felt the pain.
Through the healing of our Master,
We are whole again.

The Bridge to Nowhere

By Xander Hacking

While travelling one day,

Journeying on my way,

I passed an intriguing scene:

The bridging of a ravine.

On this side, no space was found

For buildings filled the ground.

But the land across was empty,

All march filled and swampy.

I approached the smiling foreman,

As he surveyed his work.

“You’re building quite a wonder,

And not a man is found to shirk”

“But you see my friend,

And I’m sorry if I’m frank,

But your bridge it leads to nowhere.

The land across is blank.”

“I see you’ve caught the vision

Of what we aim to do”

He responded with gusto,

Creating much ado.

“Aye we’re building this bridge to nowhere.

We’re building pretty fast.

We’ve used our best resources.

We’re building this to last.”

“But sir all that is pointless,

 Even if it stands through flood and rain,

It brings about no progress.

Sir, your bridge is vain.”

“Perhaps I spoke too quickly,

When I said you understood.

But with some explanation,

I do hope that you would.”

“So many are going nowhere

Countless throngs of men.

How else could they get there?

For here their journey would end.”

“Why would any cross this bridge?!

There is nothing for them to see!

Why, no one even notices this bridge,

Except for you and me.”

We parted our separate ways,

Both thinking the other a fool.

Much time passed before

I returned that way with things to do.

Imagine the shock that sight did bring,

That bridge filled with crowds.

All of them rushing, pushing, shoving,

To Cross,

            The Bridge,

                        To Nowhere.

Remember 9/11

In memory of the 2,977.

Ten Years Ago, we all woke up to a world radically different from what we were accustomed to. Children woke up, knowing that Daddy, or Mommy, would never walk through the front door again. Men and women looked at pictures of family, of friends, of colleagues, of brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers, and through blurred eyes saw only memories, never to be made again.

American soldiers stationed around the world wondered where the next attack would come. Noble men and women in uniform who were willing to risk, and even sacrifice, their lives to protect America, Her people, and Her way of life, stood horrified and angry. Somehow, the enemy had gotten past them, and brought the battle and the blood to the peaceful streets of home.

The American sense of invincibility and isolation from the world’s violence was gone. For the first time in almost two hundred years, an act of violence on the level of an act of war was carried out against the Continental United States. Our planes, our safest and fastest form of transportation had been used as weapons of mass destruction against our people, our economy, and out military.

Our people were slaughtered, regardless of race, creed, or color. Muslims (in the towers, not the terrorists) Christians, Jews, and those who believe in no god at all, were burnt shattered and crushed.

So on the morning of September 12^th, 2001, The day after the most horrific act of terror committed in modern history, America woke up. We had a lot of uncertainties, but there was one thing certain, United, in the collective minds of Americans. We’d been hurt, but we would NEVER, NEVER, be defeated. On September 12^th, we were not Republicans and Democrats, we were not African-Americans, or Asian-Americans, or even European-Americans, we were just Americans. Regardless of race, gender, religion, political affiliation, or any other dividing factor, we were Brothers and Sisters, we were Americans.

As we look back over these past ten years, a lot has changed. There isn’t an overwhelming feeling of unity in the United States. We’ve become divided and divisive again. But we have the right to be so. Our Nation, our Constitution, our Freedoms guarantee us those rights.  Even so, United We Stand, Divided We Fall.

"We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately” –Benjamin Franklin

Remember the unity we felt as a nation on September 12th, 2001, and feel that unity again. Reach out to your neighbor; greet a stranger with a smile; visit an old friend; tear down a wall; build again a burnt bridge. We are all Americans, and we all bear the same wound.

Through blurred eyes we find the strength and courage to soar beyond the moment.
We look to the future knowing we can never forget the past.
God Bless America

Greenwood Cemetery
York, Nebraska 

No words, from tongue or pen, can describe the sorrow, the pain, or the loss. They cannot give adequate tribute to the innocent dead in the Towers and the Pentagon, or give sufficient eulogy to the noble men and women of Flight United 93.

The best we can do is Remember.

Remember the Fallen:

In the North Tower and on American Airlines Flight 11; 8:46 a.m. & 10:28 a.m.

In the South Tower and on United Airlines Flight 175; 9:03 a.m. & 9:59 a.m.

In the Pentagon and on American Airlines Flight 77; 9:37 a.m.

On United Airlines Flight 93; 10:03 a.m.

Remember the Soldiers who have died in defense of our Freedoms, whether or not you believe their war was just.

Remember the Heroes:

The Firefighters and the Police Officers.

Men like Pablo Ortiz and Frank DeMartini, men who went up to make sure others could go down.

Men like Orio Palmer and Ronald Bucca, firefighters who raced the 78^th floor of the South Tower without any regard for personal safety.

Remember the sons and daughters, almost too young to remember, who now grow up without a mother or a father.

Remember the Fallen. Remember the Survivors.

Remember 9/11- Never Forget.

 

God Bless America.