Hello fan. Oh! There's two of you? Well then, hello fans! Yes, this writing gig is a tough business. You write and write and write and who reads or cares? Two, three people? Well, as long as there is at least one, all is well.
I have decided to commit more seriously to The Cold Bite of Autumn. I'm even considering using the story as my main novel premise in this year's Nanowrimo contest. What is Nanowrimo? Egad! Tis only the most intense writing month of the year!
Na(tional)no(vel)wri(ting)mo(nth) begins November 1, 2009 at midnight October 31st. It runs until midnight November 30th. Basically all you do is write 50,000 words in thirty days or less. I've entered twice, finished (or won) once. Yes, in 2007 I wrote 50,186 words in 29 days. What a sense of accomplishment. That breaks down to 1667 words per day. Currently I am averaging 2000 words per day. Today's count should clock in around 4000. That's where I want to be.
Ok, so The Cold Bite of Autumn has now become a priority. I will commit to posting a new installment every Monday. The next two installments are already written, so look for them beginning Monday October 12th. If I am a good boy, I will keep this up until I have a viable book or someone tells me to hang up my thumb drive and get a real job!
This is a serious undertaking. I must do that thing which most writers rail against - I must discipline myself. I can and will do this. Hopefully you'll follow me down the storyline and we'll meet at the other end satisfied.
Wow, too bad writing like that gets missed by the masses!
A story by any other name would read as sweet. Michael Ray King treks through the world of emotion to bring you stories of fantastic romance, albethey bittersweet, melancohly or just plain devastatingly sad. Storms and dark stories develop here. Tread with caution and read with your heart well protected.
Showing posts with label thriller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thriller. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
Saturday, July 25, 2009
The Cold Bite of Autumn (pt.3)
The woman's driver's license said her name was Cheryl Ann Socia. Thirty years old and blue eyed, the picture did not do her justice, of course. From what Daniel Thorgrave could tell, she worked out, took care of herself and did not use or need make-up. The license said she was five foot six, but her fetal position on the ground made height impossible to see.
"Her friends are all dead," the ambulance driver told him as he helped load her in the back. "Their car's wrapped around a tree about a half mile down the road from here. She's tough."
He slammed the door shut and bound around to the driver's side door and took off. Daniel hesitated, then grabbed the keys in his pocket. If her friends were all dead, maybe he could help her. Something in her eyes when they had their brief conversation disturbed him.
As he pulled out of the driveway, he shook his head and decided he had no sense whatsoever. Chasing after a near-dead woman he didn't know because of a gut feeling reminded him of numerous other mistakes he'd made in his life. Hopefully this woman would turn out to be normal.
"Her friends are all dead," the ambulance driver told him as he helped load her in the back. "Their car's wrapped around a tree about a half mile down the road from here. She's tough."
He slammed the door shut and bound around to the driver's side door and took off. Daniel hesitated, then grabbed the keys in his pocket. If her friends were all dead, maybe he could help her. Something in her eyes when they had their brief conversation disturbed him.
As he pulled out of the driveway, he shook his head and decided he had no sense whatsoever. Chasing after a near-dead woman he didn't know because of a gut feeling reminded him of numerous other mistakes he'd made in his life. Hopefully this woman would turn out to be normal.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
The Cold Bite of Autumn (pt.2)
Cheryl stumbled past a decrepit gate and fell into the rocky yard. A scream of pain ripped from her lips despite her sense that she could not hurt anymore than she already did. She attempted to pull herself forward with her arms but could raise neither high enough to do any good.
She heard the front door creak slightly and pictured a little old woman afraid of her own shadow opening it. Instead, a burly man swung the door open boldly, pushed open a screen door and took the steps two at a time. In an instant he knelt beside her.
"What happened? Car wreck?"
All Cheryl could do was nod. She felt his hands probing around gingerly but with enough force that when he touched her ankle she cried out.
"That's pretty messed up. Probably broken. Looks like you've lost some blood too. Do you feel cold?"
She nodded again, thankful her mouth was incapable of betraying her. She wanted to scream, "I should have died too." Bastards. They were supposed to all die together. Her benefactor kept taking an inventory until he was sure there were no other major injuries.
"I'll have an ambulance here in a second." The man stood up, bound back up the steps and was swallowed by the dim lit house. His muffled voice trailed off into a silken mist as Cheryl lost consciousness.
She heard the front door creak slightly and pictured a little old woman afraid of her own shadow opening it. Instead, a burly man swung the door open boldly, pushed open a screen door and took the steps two at a time. In an instant he knelt beside her.
"What happened? Car wreck?"
All Cheryl could do was nod. She felt his hands probing around gingerly but with enough force that when he touched her ankle she cried out.
"That's pretty messed up. Probably broken. Looks like you've lost some blood too. Do you feel cold?"
She nodded again, thankful her mouth was incapable of betraying her. She wanted to scream, "I should have died too." Bastards. They were supposed to all die together. Her benefactor kept taking an inventory until he was sure there were no other major injuries.
"I'll have an ambulance here in a second." The man stood up, bound back up the steps and was swallowed by the dim lit house. His muffled voice trailed off into a silken mist as Cheryl lost consciousness.
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