Alex Laybourne's Blog, page 111

If We Don't Help One Another Then What Have We Become?

 

I first read this over on the wonderful Kait Nolan's blog and I immediately went and made a donation.

I don't have time for a long post today but this just had to be said. There is a writer in need, it's time to step up. Just a small donation or even a retweet can play such a big part in somebody's life.  I will let Kait's poignant words say the rest for she captures it perfectly.

ROW80: Doctors and the Holidays

It is check in time again, and boy am I glad that I gave myself an overall target rather than something more day or week specific.

This being said, I know I am behind and am considering having to change my plans.

As with everything, there are positives and negatives, and this week was no exception.

The positive was that I managed to write something every day on my novel, well revise something every day, which is the first time in a while that that has happened. I also completed the most recent SEO based writing assignment in record time which not only left me more time to work on the novel but earned me a nice little bit for my cover art fund. Also, Friday was a Bank Holiday in the UK which meant all of my "real job" clients were off work so it gave me 8 hours to catch up on the backlog that had been growing quicker than a list of story ideas.

The negative aside from the fact that I did not get Good Friday off on holiday was that I had to take my eldest son to the 'weekend doctor' as he was up all night complaining about his ear. Not crying but complaining. It was nothing. Then today my youngest son (and middle child) was sick, he had a high fever and just laid in his bed not moving. So we called the "weekend doctor' again for an appointment. Thankfully though he had a good sleep and woke up feeling his old self, or certainly close to it. I hate seeing my children sick, and while I know it is a fact of life that we get sick from time to time, it is not something I will ever get used to.

Tonight is more of the same with the novel. I have edited just over 1000 words so far and would love to his 1500 by bed time. But I guess that will have to be revealed in my mid-week post…. hey I guess that will give you a reason to come back and read that one too. A good old-fashioned cliffhanger. Just imagine this last paragraph is a runaway locomotive, and the word count my damsel in distress. I guess that then makes me the twirly mustachioed villain. Oh well, I could live with that.

 

Until next time……

I Don't Believe In Ghosts

It was a clear night, visibility was good even with the thick canopy of leaves above their heads. A gentle breeze whistled through the woods as the couple made their way, following a seemingly invisible path with ease. They walked hand in hand, only it was the girl who was leading, pulling her boyfriend along for the ride.

"Come on, don't tell me you're scared of the woods Chris" Kathy Collins giggled at him. She picked her way through the trees with a grace honed by years of dance and gymnastics. While her boyfriend Chris Wilkinson stumbled and fell with all the grace of a lumberjack in the ballet.

"I'm not scared of the woods alright, I just can't see where the hell I'm going." He answered, his pride slightly damaged by the lead she had taken.

Kathy giggled as she deftly jumped over a raise tree root. Chris promptly fell over the same root and almost lost his balance had Kathy not caught him. "Well just try not to break anything, I've got a surprise for you." She flashed him a smile and kissed him passionately. Her tongue gently stroking his, circling it before she pulled back and began to walk once again.

"I can't wait." He answered dazed, his movements suddenly lighter and more agile. It was as if the kiss and given him an extra level of mobility.

They walked in relative silence; Kathy was humming under her breath, a jaunty yet unrecognizable tune, and the standard nocturnal orchestra played on. Chris didn't know how far they were into the woods, but they had been walking for almost twenty-five minutes by the time they stopped… really stopped.

"Where are we?" Chris asked. His eyes, slow to adjust to the darkness not seeing Kathy until a gust of warm early summer wind created a hole in the canopy allowing a slither of silver moonlight to illuminate her naked body. Framing it in a delicate brilliance that Chris would remember forever. "Oh…" He began before Kathy leapt into him enveloping his mouth his hers.

They had been dating for almost 6 months, but had yet to sleep with one another. Kathy had made it clear when they first met that she was a Virgin and wanted to wait until she was certain she had met the right guy. Not necessarily Mr. Right (forever) by Mr. Right (first time). They went to different schools and had met in the local shopping centre food court and as the months had progressed they had become all but inseparable.

"Are you sure?" Chris asked, speaking between the kisses that rained down on him.

"Uh-Huh" Kathy moaned. She had already unbuttoned his shirt and was busy pulling the belt away from his trousers. One of her hands had already slipped beneath his shorts and was massaging his swelling affection.

"Here?" He asked again, not wanting to admit that he wasn't exactly feeling at ease with the surroundings. Yet in spite of his concerns he went with it, cupping her budding breasts in his hands, kissing them gently with a delicate touch that defied his overall size and muscular stature.

"It has to be" She said, dropping to her knees, as if she were somehow attached to his falling underwear. Dry twigs cracked as she settled on the ground, and Chris noticed in the midst of it all that the wood was silent.

"Has.." Chris wanted to ask, but his words died as he felt her mouth swallow his engorged love for her. "Okay" He panted.

They made love on a bed of pine needs and woodland debris, it was peaceful and more romantic than either dared dream their first time would be, and once it was all over, they lay with each other, limbs intertwined, the passion of their kisses not lessened by the act. Their love was real, it was true… it was freeing.

"Don't get me wrong here Kath, but what made you change your mind? I mean last week you were still undecided and we've not done anything other than normal all week." Chris was puzzled, but certainly not complaining. He stroked her blonde hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ears. Her earing glinted as another moon beam broke through the foliage roof like a spotlight, highlighting only them. They were a family heirloom she had told him once. He had never seen her without them.

"It had to be tonight. I just couldn't wait any longer." She smiled and kissed him. "Call it a spiritual awakening." She whispered, her breath still not fully caught up with her. She kissed his chest, his neck, and finally his lips and she felt his love for her rise up once again.

"I don't believe in that sort of thing, but if you do, then that's fine by me. I can be open-minded." Chris joked, running the tips of his fingers up and down her back, tracing the delicate curve of her spine.

"What's wrong Chris? You don't believe in ghosts?" She asked, the question was blunt and while not a mood breaker by any means it was certainly more formal than he would have liked.

Chris took a deep breath, he may have been young but he knew enough to always think carefully about his answers. "Um.. well not really. Sorry."

"That's ok." She whispered, now it sounded as if she was crying. "Just do one thing for me." she asked – yes she was definitely crying now – "close your eyes and think of me, think of us." She kissed him again, and slid down his naked body kissing him intermittently as she went.

Chris closed his eyes, he felt the wind wash over him, it was cool and refreshing against his sweat glistened skin. Kathy's embraces grew lighter, teasing him and when they stopped he thought nothing of it.

At first.

"Kathy? Baby?" He called out, opening his eyes. The forest was dark, and he was very much along. "Baby where are you? Kathy?" Chris called, not panicked but certainly concerned. He got no answer.

He walked, his bare feet crunching and cracking the twigs and leaves that had covered the small clearing they had made love in. Suddenly, his feet his something larger, an old tree branch or so he thought. It was wet and slimy, and broke when he stood on it. "Kathy?" He called out again, panicked now. A strange feeling on unease washed over him. A gust of wind blew, harder than the previous ones, and a thick ray of sliver light lit him up. It was then that he saw it.

The body was half buried by the woodland fauna, haphazardly buried in a shallow grave. The skull and one arm had been uncovered by scavengers, hungry for a juicy meal. Chris gagged, but managed to control himself, until he saw the earings. The small diamonds caught the moonlight perfectly.

ROW80: MidWeek Update

On the writing front I really don't have much to report. I have had another busy first half of te week. Sunday I hit my target, Monday there was no work on the book, Tuesday also thanks to a 7 hour business meeting. Wednesday I got 500 words edited so at least something. I know Thursday and Friday are easier paced so I can try to catch up a bit.

That being said I have written about 800-1000 words a day but on some freelance articles I have been sent from a friend. I am writing these to save up the cash for my cover art and hopefully a proofread so it is all related.

After several long hectic months I have also rediscovered the pleasure of reading. I have read every night this week and chide myself for not re-finding the time (to really read)sooner. I am once again lost on the way to The Dark Tower (book 7 of 7) and have a healthy pile to be read in both paperback and e-book formats.

On the whole, despite having fallen behind schedule I am happy with the progress being made and am happy to see real habits forming in terms of finding time to write and read.

What Makes Me Tick? : BONES

I thought it about time I introduce something new to the site. A new outlet for me to get my thoughts down onto paper and unclog my mind from the vortex of ideas, theories and wishes (okay call them regrets if you will.)

I love movies and television, almost as much as I do writing. Now I don't mean the mindless bullshit shows about finding the worlds most talented dancing busboy, that isn't television, it's an insult to my intelligence, our intelligence and an insult to those in the related profession who have worked hard at their craft, and put in the gruelling hours and taken the many many lows that must be had to achieve real success.

I like the sorts of movies and shows that make me think – often in rather abstract hollywoodized ways – about the various directions I wish my life had headed in terms of a career.

Bones is a show that I loved from the moment I saw the advert for it on TV, and not just because I loved the look of the cast.

I was a huge fan of Kathy Reichs before they made the show, having stumbled across her debut novel Deja Dead at London airport not long afer it had been released, and I devoured it on the plane and again on the way back.

When I saw that they were making the series I was on top of the world, and equally delighted when I realized that it wasn't a carbon copy of the books, but a series in its own right. I am a firm believer in the  'the book is better than the move' principle.

The show has everything that I love, it is written by an author I have a huge admiration for, in terms of her writing and with regards the wonderful things she has done in her career.  It also focuses on the two areas of employment that I most desire to play a part in. Law Enforcement; the FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, brought to life by David Boreanaz and the entire field of forensic work, from the anthropological aspect to pathology and everything else that makes up a murder scene. If a show can capture the two carriers I most covet and be based on the books of and produced by one of my favourite writers, then it was always going to be a hit with me.

Every character in the show plays an equal role, and while Temperance 'Bones' Brennan and Seeley Booth are the title characters, take any of the others away and it just wouldn't be the same. To me, that is another sign of a great show.

The episodes are clear, the technical terms are used well and do not detract from the story for people who don't understand them. Humour is well used and all of the science we see is real, it is all possible. The real great thing is that they don't always win, from time to time they lose, they make mistakes, and are actually portrayed as humans, real people rather than objects of entertainment. 

Bones is now into its 6th season and I for one hope it will continue for a long time to come.

ROW80: Update – Just Give Me Some More Time

It is check in time again and while I have managed to make  some progress I am still not happy with the week. Thanks to the dreaded day job being ridiculously busy I had more days where I got no writing done at all than I did days where I could get something done. I only had time for one lunch break and when I got home was just so fed up that I couldn't bring myself to sit behind the computer. Especially as once the kids were in bed and the house was tidied I was one step away from falling asleep.

Ok when I did write I got more done than my daily target , and am technically still on track I am hardly any closer to forming those golden writing habits that are the very base fundamental of the ROW experience.

I promise that things will change, although I can't see it happening for another couple of weeks, again thanks solely to my day job. I will continue to post the ROW80 updates, but I fear actual posts may be few and far between. I find this almost as soul-destroying as I was generating some decent traffic when I posted daily, and have this week been reduced to a lowly 10 visitors. Yes 10. But still, I stand strong in the face of adversity and will push through because being a writer is who I am and I know that once I get Through Hell and High Water completed and published, I will have a book that others will want to read.

ROW80: Update and General Life

Well, I am almost ashamed to say I have managed very little in the first half of the week. I am averaging about a page a day with revisions of Through Hell and High Water which is less than I would like, but tomorrow is another day and I will do better. The real positive is the despite being stuck in the work week from Hell – and I mean a level of Hell they don't even mention in books – I am still writing something every day, and have picked up a little freelance work to earn some extra and very much-needed cash.

On top of revisions, I have continued to a near constant theme of plot ideas which has led to me cleaning the path for the as of yet untitled second novel in my Hell Trilogy and a new stand alone novel Par 4: The Course which has me excited to the point of jitters.

On the whole I am right where I had planned to be and still feel on course to meet my overall goal of completing the revisions on Through Hell and High Water and am happy with the things are progressing with my other writing endeavours.

I would write more, but I am over caffeinated, over stressed and ready to unwind with an episode or two of bones before I dive back into my revisions. Thanks for sticking with me and I'll update again on Saturday.

Writing isn't a solo sport

When you look at a book you often only see the writer's name. It's his/her book, they had the idea, they researched it, wrote and edited it (and ok yes, I realise there are multiple people editing, critiquing and selling the book along with the writer – especially on the more traditional publishing route – however for the purpose of this post I am not looking at them. I am merely looking at the basic creation of the novel(s))

The next time you buy a book, just open up the cover and have a quick glance at the dedications page. More often than not the writer's souse and children get a mention, and this isn't just because of decency… "She's my wife I have to say something" but rather because they have earned the respect of the writer.

While we may not like to admit it, writers are a difficult bunch, we are not always the easiest people to be around. Out minds wander through the unwritten corridors of our plots and unearth new clues, or snippets of information that provide the spark for a sub plot of help us finish off that one pesky chapter in every book that just doesn't seem to want to be written. 

We spend a lot of time behind the pc or with our noses in other books, drinking up our craft, practising and refining it and most of the time – unless you have made it big – for nothing more than self-satisfaction and the hope that others will buy it, or that at least an agent will pick it up and fall in love with.

While we, as writers love what we do, I dare say there are a few spouses out there who don't quite love it as much. I am lucky, my wife puts up with me, with my mood swings when I can't get the plot straightened out, the long nights behind the pc, the random conversations at bedtime – If you had to eat a human, what race do you think would taste the best, or the sharing the notion that Jesus is, when viewed literally…a zombie.) – and she listens as I throw out plot lines characters and linking details and will actually listen, she will offer advise and give her view, as a reader not a writer, and for that I am forever indebted and know for a fact her name will be on the front of every book I ever write (along with my kids).

If you don't quite believe how hard it can be to be the parter of a spouse, and often qualify more as the other women while a new novel is being created, look not further than the master of horror himself: Stephen King. Ok his wife is a writer too, but every one of this legends books is dedicated to his wife, and by god if he hasn't put her through the wringer a few times over the years.

The main message that I would like to put out there is that no matter how much we love what we do, we must never forget that those around us, the people we love don't necessarily share our devotion, but put up with it, and all the bad that it can bring. Don't forget them, don't neglect them, not for the sake of your writing, but because at the end of the day, when it is all said and done, come success or failure, they are the ones who will still be standing beside you.

ROW80: Update

Well my first week is as good as over and I am delighted with the progress I have made. In total I have edited (pending one final read to just dot the t's and cross the i's) 25,000 words. Ok 10,000 were already done but briefly revisited to take care of the UK/US spellings. But still 15,000 words in one week is above my target pace and I actually feel very good about the finished product in terms of its presentation to others. I didn't anything done yesterday, but I'm not concerned.

I can't really say much more now as all three kids are awake on standing on the windowsill, the other trying to pull the cat's tail and one that's just plain cranky

Good Things Really Do Come To Those Who Wait

I don't really have much to add today, I have been so busy with work and yet find myself strangely unable to focus on anything….other than editing my manuscript that is.

My wife is out tonight which leaves me home along and that means only one thing… all the time in the world to get back to editing Through Hell and High Water. I am really feeling the story pull together now, the loose ends are being tied together and I think that I have created something half-decent even at this early editing stage.

The main reason behind this post is my excitement at yet another unexpected brain wave that came galloping into my mind yesterday… oddly enough it was at about the same time (to the minute) as my moment of revelation a few days before. Hmmmmm.

If you read that post, you will recall that inspiration came to me and I finally figured out how to link everything together for a crime novel I am planning called Par 4: The Course. (Of course there is a slightly supernatural twist to this at some point.) While I have been dancing through the streets now that, after about 2 years (although it has not always been my focal point) and several false starts the novel was finally coming together. You can only imagine my mood yesterday when it suddenly unravelled even further in my mind to the point where I now have the entire plot of the novel outlined in my head. The bare bones at least, I have the route the characters need to take,, the secondary character has appeared and had a story to tell and I have the motive and "moral" aspect of the story too.

It seems to strange that after so long, the entire plot has just appeared over the space of a few days and without an effort. Now I just have to find time to sit down and write it. Or more to the point, once Through Hell and High Water is complete, do I write the second story in the trilogy or take a break and work on this?