Nano Is Over And Thanksgiving

The story is done. Life is a little empty. I'm taking a breath and then it is a nose dive or belly flop or maybe a cannon ball into revising. I like this story. I hope it isn't such a slog to get through the first edit as my last one has been. I'm still not finished with that one and it's going on three years. Ugh! I've got to find a reader or two who can help me with it. Anyone out there who knows the English language and proper punctuation? I hear crickets. I think I'll post on the blueboards that I need help. Maybe someone there knows whether it's who or whom. On a side note, the tree is up and it is beautiful. I know, Thanksgiving hasn't come yet and I already have the tree up but what can I say? I love looking at the lit and decorated tree. Look at the lights, the beautiful lights ... Ahem, sorry, I get a little hypnotized once in a while. Enjoy your Thanksgiving. I'll be with family and maybe a wee little doggy named Bella.

Short Story And Sammy Goes Home

Here I was afraid I couldn't make the story end somewhere around 50,000 words. Instead, the story is rapidly winding down about 5,000 short. (Insert screams and hair pulling here) I'm going to have to finish writing and inject a nonsense chapter somewhere in the middle where no one will think to look for complete ridiculousness. Is that cheating? Shhh. Don't tell anyone. I've decided to put another excerpt in today. Sammy is finally ready to go home after some coaxing from me. Enjoy.

He looked at the front door and saw that the screen was still there but it was no longer sucking in fog. The sky was beginning to get lighter though it was not yet daylight. The diggers were coming up on the porch and following them was a tall young woman with thick black hair. Her skin was a deep tan color and her eyes seemed to be black. She was smiling at what the diggers were saying as she entered the house.
“This is a really beautiful house,” she said. She saw Sammy sitting on the steps. “You must be Sammy,” she said. “I’m Simone. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Sammy smiled a sleepy smile and stood up. “I guess I should show you the dream screen room unless you want to see the rest of the house first.”
“No,” she said. “Let’s go see the dream screens.” She followed Sammy to the top of the stairs. He opened the door down the little hallway and stepped back so she could go in first. She took about three steps into the room and stopped to look around. “This is amazing,” she said. “The colors are beautiful.”
Sammy and the diggers looked around and were amazed to find the terrible chaos that had been in the room before they’d left to get the new Dreamweaver had been restored to its normal order. The screens were all hanging were they should be and the shattered glass and broken frames were all repaired and looking like new.
Simone walked from screen to screen and smiled as she studied each in turn. After doing this for ten minutes or so she turned to Sammy and the diggers with a huge smile on her face. “I love this place,” she said. “Are you telling me the truth that this is where I live?”
Hannah stepped forward and nodded. “It is, Simone,” she said. “It’s your house and you are the new Dreamweaver. Sammy is the Dreamcatcher. If you have problems with a rogue dream or a player, Sammy is the one you call to straighten things out.”
Simone looked at Sammy doubtfully. Sammy shrugged. He found he didn’t really care if she believed this to be true or not. He really just wanted to go home. He hoped she would never have trouble and would never have to find out if Sammy were capable of taking care of it. Much as he liked this place he really just wanted to go home.

I'm tired and I'm sad the story is ending but I did it, well except for those last 5,000 or so words. Darn those words.

Almost Over And Gary Dies

The fingers are about worn to the bone from all the tapping at the keys and my hands may be permanently cramped but I can finally almost, just about, kinda, sorta see the light at the end of this very long tunnel. I have about 8,000 more words to go before I'm done with my 50,000 words for the month but I don't think the story will be finished yet. Who knows, though, everyone may just die off, end of story, happy ending. Well, perhaps not for the 8-10 year olds the story is intended for. Darn it all. I've been trying to decide what to put here as the next excerpt of my story and I'm having a hard time with it. Do I put in the catching of the Dreamstealer or the death of the Dreamweaver? Yes, I kill Gary. Sorry to the Gary fans out there. Perhaps the death scene would be best that way you're at least prepared. Here it is:

“Did you catch him,” a weak voice asked from behind Herbert. Sammy stepped to the side and saw Gary leaning against the trap. His face was white and his legs didn’t seem to want to hold him up any longer because he slowly sank to the floor. Sammy rushed over to his side and for the first time saw the blood that soaked the front of his shirt.
“Gary,” he said. “You should have let me look at you earlier. Do you think I can imagine you better?”
Gary smiled sadly. “I don’t think that works on real injuries to real people. This is different than a normal dream. We aren’t players and our wounds won’t heal.”
“No,” Sammy said fiercely. “You have to let me try. You can't just sit there and bleed to death. You have to let me try.”
Herbert had followed Sammy to Gary’s side and it was his hand that pulled Sammy away from Gary and his arms that held Sammy until his anger drained away. Sammy tried to push and shove Herbert but he just could not move him until he stopped fighting. Herbert held him for another moment until Sammy took a deep breath and calmed himself down. Slowly and carefully he stepped around Herbert and calmly walked back to Gary’s side. “How do we get out of here,” he asked.
Gary’s eyes were shut and at first Sammy thought he was dead but his eyelids fluttered then opened. “Can you talk with Horace and Hannah,” he asked in a rough whisper. Sammy nodded. “Tell them to hit the exit button on the screen. It will open a door and you’ll be able to go home.”
“You have to come too,” Sammy said. Gary gave a weak shake of his head. “Yes, you have to. I can’t leave you here with that.” He pointed over his shoulder to the cage where the Dreamstealer was still screaming in rage. “You can’t stay here.”
Gary reached out and grabbed Sammy’s arm for a brief moment before it lost strength and fell limply to the floor. “Sammy,” he said. “You must leave me. The door only opens for a short time and you must get through it. You have to take the leaf blower and get rid of the fog. You have to clean up the dream world and restore the balance. Horace and Hannah will have to get the new Dreamweaver. You have to go back and you have to leave me. This is where I belong.”
Sammy frowned. He didn't like what Gary was saying and he didn't agree but he realized he couldn't fight with him. He sighed. “What about Herbert,” Sammy asked.
“Herbert can decide for himself what he wants to do,” Gary said. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m tired, Sammy. I want to sleep.”
Sammy looked around and saw the mattress Gary had landed on when he’d come out of the worm. The worm was gone even though Sammy hadn’t heard it leave. Sammy looked at Gary and pictured in his mind a big soft bed where Gary could sleep. He pictured it with nice fluffy pillows and warm blankets. Gary’s lips curved up in a small smile when he felt the comfort of the bed.
“Thank you,” he whispered. He folded his hands together over his chest and his face became peaceful.

It wasn't that bad, was it? Herbert goes a little crazy after that but I'll let you find out about that later. Right now, I have to get back to the story to figure out how to end it. Believe it or not, I still really like this story. Maybe I can get this one edited before I start to hate it. Here's hoping.

Still Writing And Mousetraps

I'm 2/3 done with my novel and not quite half way through the month. That feels great. I like the story. It's cute and quite a bit younger than what I have been writing. My problem is the ending. I'm catching the bad guy but I'm not sure what to do with him once I have him caught and then there is the whole this-story-is-now-officially-over part which just doesn't want to happen at all. Personally, I think my characters are having way to much fun in the dreamworld to come home and live in reality. I have a boy who has really great friends but he suddenly doesn't care if he ever sees them again if he can just build the world's best tree house in the most awesome trees anywhere. What is it with characters that when you put them on the page they actually think they can have lives of their own? Whatever. I'm including another excerpt just so you stay interested. Hope you enjoy.

Gary sat thinking and watching Herbert who had finally sat down in the chair he'd been jumping on. "Maybe we can build the world's biggest mousetrap," he said thoughtfully.
Sammy smiled. "We could," he said. "How would you build it if you were going to build a mousetrap to catch a Dreamstealer?"
Gary started smiling. "Do we build from the trap back or from the trigger forward," he asked.
"From the trap back," Sammy said. "We’d need a basket or something like that to drop over the Dreamstealer."
Gary nodded. "It would have to be strong so he couldn't break out of it."
"It would have to be built especially for trapping a Dreamstealer and it would have to be made of something that stopped imagination once you were inside so you couldn't imagine your way out of it."
"Right," Gary agreed. "What do we call it?"
Sammy thought of Mr. Tillden at his school in his world. He was constantly asking if they were a bunch of blank slates when they couldn't think of anything to write in their creative writing classes. "Lets call it blank slate stuff," he said.
Gary nodded. "That’s good," he said. "So the trap will be made of blank slate stuff. It has to be big enough to hold the Dreamstealer."
"I think the blank slate stuff will get bigger and smaller by itself so that it fits whatever is in it," Sammy said.
"That’s good," Gary said. "That's really good. You’ve done this before."
Sammy nodded. He pictured a big piece of paper in his mind with pencils and crayons to draw with. "Oh perfect," Gary said when they appeared on the table. He picked up a pencil and started to sketch a cage at one end.

Remember the game Mousetrap? That's what I'm envisioning. We'll see how far I get with it but for now it's a way to fill the paper. Ta.

The Birthday Is Over And Scary Sammy

The birthday went well. My son received enough gift cards to finish paying for all the games he has on reserve. He's thinking of getting a job too. Gasp! I like a boy who wants to work. He loved his surprise cake as well which can be seen along with the one his sister made on my facebook page. Sunday went by way too fast and now here we are at the start of another week. Mom has her test on Saturday to be a CNA. Hopefully she won't psyche herself out too badly. She has the knowledge and ability to pass the test she just needs to beleive in herself. I've been back at work trying to get back into the writing groove. I didn't work on it at all over the weekend and it isn't something I've been able to pick back up and just move on with. However, I have managed to add significantly to the thing and as promised, here's another small piece:

The sound came again from Sammy's right but it was answered this time and Sammy was sure the sound came from his left. It was an odd sound kind of a keening whistle. It reminded Sammy of the songs of the whales he'd heard in a documentary one time.
Sammy stopped in his tracks and Horace bumped into him.
"What the," Horace started to say but Sammy put his hand over Horace's mouth. Horace went still.
Sammy put his face close to Horace’s. "They're talking," he said.
"What," Horace whispered. "Who?"
"That noise," Sammy said. "It sounds like an animal in my world and it’s how they talk to each other."
"Do you understand it," Horace asked.
Sammy shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't understand it. I don't speak whale."
"What's whale," Horace asked.
Sammy opened his mouth to answer but realized this was the completely wrong time to have this conversation.
"Look," he said. "You’ll just have to trust me. They are talking to each other. I don’t like this. We need to get out of here quickly."
Horace nodded and grabbed Sammy’s hand. Before Sammy had a chance to think Horace was off and running. Sammy did his best to keep up but there was no time to look where they were going and he was bumping painfully into things at shin height.
The sounds were coming fast now as they called back and forth to each other.
"Duck," Horace called over his shoulder.
"What," Sammy said at about the same moment as he saw the low hanging tree branch. He dove for the ground and lost his grip on Horace's hand. Horace didn't stop quick enough and was swallowed up by the fog. Sammy was breathing hard and all he could hear was the pounding of his heart in his ears.
He took a few deep breaths to slow his heart down so he could listen to what was happening around him. He could see something tall and thick from where he lay on the ground and he thought it might be the tree whose branch he'd almost brained himself on.
He scooted as quietly as he could toward the tree and tried to make himself look as though he were a part of it.
He didn't know where Horace was but he could now hear movement around him and he just hoped it was Horace getting nearer to him and not the things that had been communicating so eerily in the fog.
Sammy sat completely still waiting for something to happen. His heart beat was starting to race again and he tried to breathe deeply to slow it down. It wasn't helping.
He noticed the fog starting to swirl and thought it likely that something was moving closer to him. He turned his head slowly and saw a shape in the fog. It seemed to dance as the tendrils swirled around the shape. He turned his head slowly in the other direction and saw another shape there. Whatever they were there was no more talking between them. They were silently approaching the tree and Sammy knew he had to act quickly or they’d find him.

Are you biting your nails yet? Will Sammy get out alive? What are the shapes in the fog? How rough is this draft! Ugh! OK, I know it really isn't great but it could be. Just wait and see, it'll get all polished up and it'll be readable, I promise. But for now, it's a work in progress.

Nano And Sixteen

Nano month has been great so far but I am so mentally tired. I've written almost 20,000 words in 5 days. I keep the thought of the revising that has to happen at bay because writing is such fun. I put a small excerpt of my writing in my last blog and I probably will again before the month's over. For those of you who don't know what's going on, go to nanowrimo.org and check it out. You can find me there at pacali or search the author list for my name. It shows my word count and if you bookmark it you can keep track of where I'm at every day. This weekend is a weekend off for me, though, so there will be no changes in the writing status. CG1 has his 16th birthday and I have a party to throw for family. He's pretty excited about it. After all, it isn't every year you turn 16. It's the first really big milestone in autonomy for anyone. He'll begin practicing parallel parking soon and after the license is gotten, he'll be begging to go to the store for me every time I turn around. That's how I was. God that seems such a long time ago. Happy Birthday Tanner.

Sammy And The Diggers

Novel writing month has started and while I cannot say I'm burning up the keyboard, I'm certainly holding my own. I'm writing about an orphan boy named Sammy who cannot sleep at night because of the sound of digging in the corner of his dorm room. Sammy is the only one of the six boys sleeping in the room to hear the noise and be bothered by it. The diggers finally break through the wall and urgently try to get Sammy to go with them. He decides he ought to because they need him so badly. The tunnel is sealed shut after he enters which means his decision is at this point irreversible. He must go forward. The diggers move through their world by worm. Think earthworm on a large, large scale. They travel in the chamber just behind the mouth which keeps them out of the way of any debris caused as the worm moves from place to place. As you can imagine, Sammy is pretty disgusted with this mode of travel and it takes some convincing to get him to enter the worm. Herbert, Hannah and Horace are the diggers who are brothers and their sister. Here is a short excerpt of my story:

Herbert walked gingerly through the teeth and onto the tongue and Hannah and Horace followed him. Sammy stood watching them but couldn’t make himself enter the mouth.
Herbert had reached the back of the mouth just where the throat would start when he turned to make sure they were all together and saw that Sammy was still standing outside. He stopped and so did the other two who had turned to look at Sammy as well.
"Come on, Sammy," Herbert said. "She won't hurt you as long as you do not hurt her. Be careful walking between the teeth and try not to kick one. She doesn’t like that. We need to have them cleaned and repaired the next time we are in the city so she is just a tiny bit sore."
"Great," Sammy mumbled to himself. "Don’t hurt her but she's sore so there isn't any way you're not going to hurt her. No pressure, Sammy."
"Just step between the teeth unless it looks red and sore," Hannah said helpfully. "It really isn’t difficult if you look where you're going."
Sammy took a deep breath and put his foot into the opening between two teeth. He could not believe he was doing this. He must have hit a tender spot because the worm rumbled and moved a little bit. Sammy quickly took another step and unfortunately landed on a red area he hadn't seen. This time there was no doubt he’d hurt the worm. She made an even louder noise which sent air blowing through her open mouth and moved her jaw which sent Sammy flying through the air to land in a heap at Herbert's feet.
Horace was laughing so hard he could barely stand. Even Hannah was laughing quietly to herself. Only Herbert looked concerned for Sammy and even his lips were twitching as he checked to make sure he was all right.

Remember, it's a very rough draft and there is much to be corrected before it is anywhere close to finished. Of the 50,000 words I am signed up to write this month, I have 5,500 written. I still have some little ways to go as you can see. Well, I hope you enjoyed the excerpt. I will try to check in occasionally and add a new piece every now and again.