Stephen Drivick's Blog - Posts Tagged "a-to-z-blogging-challenge"

This is my sixth entry for the April A-Z blogging challenge. Today we look at the letter F-Fantasy.

Sometimes it didn't pay to practice magic. It was too much trouble.

This was a line from a fantasy novel I attempted for National Novel Writing Month. You have to write a 50,000 word novel in thirty days to “win” the contest. I gave it a try, and found out one thing.

Writing fantasy is hard.

Perhaps it was the diet of Dungeons and Dragons, or maybe it was all the Adventure Time I had on my Kindle but I thought I could write a little fantasy, sword and sorcery novel. I had an idea about a young girl, a magic-user, going through a few adventures and winning the day. It seemed like a pretty solid idea.

I tried to get cute. I added a sarcastic, Monty Pythonish angle with snarky humor and a post-apocalyptic theme. In some places it worked really well, but in other places it made me cringe a little. I didn't get it, and I wrote it for goodness sake. I could imagine the return column on my Kindle Direct Publishing dashboard flipping around like a slot machine.

So I stopped working on my fantasy story, and I didn't win National Novel Writing Month. I may revisit it one day. I read it over a few days ago, and there's a few parts that made me chuckle.

To all those who write in the Fantasy/Sword and Sorcery genre, my hat is off. You guys write some amazing stories and you make it look easy. With a little reworking of my story maybe I'll join your ranks one day.

But it's going to take a lot of editing. Writing fantasy is hard ...at least for me.:)

This is my seventh entry in the A-Z Blogging Challenge for April. Today we look at the letter G-Guns.

I have to admit to something. I have two zombie novels to my credit, and I don't know anything about guns.

I'm not totally clueless. I know how a gun works and the different types of guns – handgun, revolver, shotgun, rifle, etc. I'm talking about specifics. Things like brand names, the myriad of different calibers, and what gun is appropriate for the situation at hand. You can't get around it. If you write a novel about zombies, guns are going to show up.

I read a zombie apocalypse novel a few years ago that went to the extreme. The author was no doubt a gun enthusiast because he lovingly described in great detail every one of the main character's firearms. From the smallest back-up pistol to the largest rifle and beyond, the guns were each given a paragraph. They became characters in the novel. They almost had their own personalities.

When I started writing Sometimes We Ran, I knew I couldn't go in that direction. I didn't know enough, and research on the internet would bog me down and trigger a visit from the FBI to check my computer history.

I went a little more general. John, my main character, carries a “handgun”. He gives Claire a “small revolver”. People use “automatic rifles” or “small machine guns”. No brands or calibers are mentioned. I trust the reader to kind of fill in the gaps. When I mention “shotgun”, the readers can picture whatever shotgun they want.

So far it has worked. In fact, it was mentioned in a review as being a positive. I figure the people in my zombie apocalypse world were regular people, and didn't know much about guns. They learned fast though. They didn't want to become zombie food.

You don't have to know everything about something to write about it. You can generalize a little and still have a great story. Research helps a little, but don't get bogged down.

But don't ask me about guns. I may have written two zombie novels, but I don't know a thing.:)

This is my eighth entry in the A-Z Blogging Challenge for April. Today we look at the letter H-Humanity.

We live in a society where most of our needs are provided to us. Turn a faucet, and clean water pours out. Flip a switch and your room fills with light. The grocery stores are filled with all types of food. Information is available to us at a moments notice on our phones. There's plenty of fuel to fill up your car, motorcycle, boat, etc. You get the idea.

But what if you took some or all of it away? It's a forgone conclusion that our ordered world would go to hell in a hurry.

Unfortunately, I have a real-world example. A few years ago, Hurricane Katina knocked out the gasoline pipelines from the Gulf of Mexico to Georgia. Pretty soon, the supplies of gasoline dried up. I had the misfortune of driving a muscle car Firebird with a V8 engine and a thirst for premium fuel. I couldn't find fuel, and when I did find fuel I had to buy in it in the midst of chaos. At some stations, I was witnessing the unraveling of society with yelling, cutting in line, and yes, physical threats. I started carrying a bat in my car! (No kidding ...I really did this). It got so bad, people followed tankers around. I started working at home till the supplies came back.

This was just from a temporary change in the gasoline supply.

I had a few simple questions when I began writing Sometimes We Ran: A Story from the Zombie Apocalypse. What would you do to ensure your survival? Would you kill someone to get their supplies? Could you keep your humanity?

Based on the example above, I wouldn't be able to answer so easily. Those people knew more gasoline was coming and yet they still acted like anti-social jerks. Even I started carrying a weapon in my car, and I consider myself pretty easy going. I was so afraid that I imagined myself caving in the skull of the first person to put their hand on my gas filler door. This does not bode well for my humanity.

Now, what if the gasoline in those underground tanks was the last gasoline in the area ...forever. Cars would be flipped, bricks would be tossed, and I sure gun play would start. Humanity lost. People would kill or injure for those last gallons, and I have no doubt they would probably kill or injure to keep it. All of us would have to consider the possibility of facing down our fellow survivors.

This is one of the great themes of Post-Apocalyptic/Zombie fiction. The real story in end of the world novels is not the apocalypse itself, but the people left behind. It's how they deal with the morality in the new world that makes an exciting tale. I just hope I never have to deal with it for real.

This is my twelfth entry in the A-Z Blogging Challenge for April. Today we look at the letter L – the Living.

I used to be one of you.

Now I walk endlessly from place to place that I no longer recognize unable to die and rest. I walk with a hunger like a giant hole in my body. A hole I cannot fill. I must feed. Hunt and feed.

I look down at my old clothes and shoes, tattered by months of exposure. Blood, my blood, dried into the fibers till it makes an ugly swishing sound when I walk. Clothes and shoes that I bought to be stylish, but that no longer matters.

I used to remember my family and friends. They have all faded to shadows. I can see the face, but the names are gone. Soon the faces will disappear.

I am so cold. So very cold.

I need to rest. I live a nightmare, and I can't wake up. I can only walk, hunt, and feed. Inside, I beg to be released. Someone let me rest.

I used to be one of you. I was once part of the living.

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Thought I'd try a little flash fiction for "L".

This is my thirteenth entry in the A-Z Blogging Challenge for April. Today we look at the letter M – Motorcycles.

So it's Spring again, and I am thinking (again) about getting a motorcycle.

I live in North Georgia where I think it might be a law that you must own at least one motorcycle during your lifespan. Every Spring, after the last frosty mornings have passed, the roads become saturated with all forms of two-wheeled vehicles.

North Georgia is a natural playground for the motorcycle species. I live in the shadow of the North Georgia mountains with their twisty roads and wide scenic vistas. Trips up north in the spring bring wildflowers and trees in bloom that make the landscape look like a expensive painting. Trips in the fall bring dramatic colors to the trees and fresh, cool mountain air. Old towns with their wooden buildings and skinny main drags make great backdrops for photos and a great place to take a quick break.

I've enjoyed the North Georgia mountains in my Firebird. Take the T-tops out, and it's a great all-day cruise limited only by the gas in the tank. I've been on many a trip up to the mountains, but never on a motorcycle.

But there is a harsh reality. I am a complete klutz. Motorcycles require a certain level of dexterity I do not possess. Flying off a mountain at speed is a real possibility. Rides to check out the scenery are no fun when you're constantly picking yourself up off the road.:)

On second thought, four wheels sound pretty good. Maybe I'll remain a spectator for now.:)



M is also for Mailing list, and I have one! If you want to keep up to date on future book releases and other stuff, just sign up at http://eepurl.com/Sus2b. I promise ...no spam.:)

This is my fourteenth entry in the A-Z Blogging Challenge for April. Today we look at the letter N – Notebook.

Ideas and inspiration often strike at odd times, so I have taken to carrying around a small notebook to jot things down. Character names, possible plot points, and even whole ideas find their way inside. My notebook is also a good place to jot down websites and other helpful things.

My phone was used for such things. I went though about half a dozen note apps for Android before I realized I liked writing it out longhand better. My ideas or that website I needed to know often crossed my mind like a meteor – very fast, very brief, and burning out quickly in the atmosphere. By the time I got the phone out and the app open, the brilliant thing I thought of a few moments ago that would have changed my life was gone.

There are some problems though. Sometimes I write things out of context and they make no sense. For example ...what does “Mars Landing Base” mean?

Actually, “Mars Landing Base” sounds like a good idea. Don't anyone steal it!

This is my fifteenth entry in the A-Z Blogging Challenge for April. Today we look at the letter P - Pollen.

I am convinced a great apocalypse story could be written about the pollen in Georgia.

About this time every year, the pine trees get busy making little pine trees. They fill the air with a yellow powder that settles over everything like a fine ash.

It's sticky and gets everywhere. Roads, houses, clothing, etc. gets covered in a yellow haze. You don't wear black during the pollen days in Georgia.

Cars take the brunt of the attack. The yellow dust settles onto every surface of your car and covers your windows. Your wipers become useless. Washer fluid doesn't help either - it just makes a sticky yellow paste.

It gets in your throat and nose and renders you unable to breathe. Your eyes hurt, and you reach for the eye drops. I'm not allergic, and it kills me year after year. I can't imagine how the people with allergies are feeling.

Thank goodness it passes quickly. By May, the pollen counts usually get south of 2500 and the air clears. Till then, we stay inside or hit the drugstore for remedies.

And we pray for rain.:)

This is my sixteenth entry in the A-Z Blogging Challenge for April, and it happens to be X. X is hard, so I am going to cheat. Here's an e(X)cerpt from my work in progress Sometimes We Ran 3. It's rough, so I'm not responsible for misspellings, plot holes, terrible pacing, or bad words.:)
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

We stood in the kitchen doorway, and got our first up-close look at Zombie-Boy. He stood before the stainless-steel refrigerator. The monster slammed himself into the large appliance over and over trying to attack his reflection. Sometimes he used his teeth and hands leaving smeary handprints on the steel. His frostbitten feet made squeaking noises on the marble floor.

I put away the flashlight, and drew my gun. Nothing fancy. Just kill the bastard. As if Elizabeth read my mind, she took cover behind the door frame and readied her weapon. She looked back at me, and I nodded. The kill was hers.

Before Elizabeth could pull the trigger and extinguish the zombie's spark, it lifted its head and took a deep, snarling sniff of the air. The zombie had caught our scent. After taking in few more gulps of air, it pinpointed our location and turned around. Zombie-Boy hunched over into attack position, and a low growl that made the hair stand up on my arm escaped his rotting lips.

“Shoot it, Liz!” I called out. At the same time, the Red-Eye pounced on us from the kitchen. It knocked me to the ground, with my gun coming out of my hand. It fell to the floor, and disappeared under the dining room table. I watched from the ground as Elizabeth retreated from the doorway, fumbling with her rifle. She hesitated as the zombie got near her, and she never raised her rifle or fired a shot. The zombie grabbed onto her jacket, and began to attack.

Elizabeth had hesitated. Her hesitation might have killed us both.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On a side note, I had to step away from the A to Z Blogging challenge for a few letters. I did something to my shoulder and it hurt to type. It's also hard to type when there's an icebag attached to your shoulder.:)

This is my seventeenth entry for the April A to Z Blogging Challenge. Today we look at Y-Yelling.

There's a great Seinfeld episode (remember Seinfeld?) where Elaine is editing a book. She has a fight over exclamation points, so to prove her point she adds exclamation points to every sentence in the rough draft. The next day while going over the book with the head of the publishing company, Elaine tries to explain, but the boss just tells her to get rid of them. He hated exclamation points.

I was reminded of that episode when I started self-editing Sometimes We Ran.

A zombie novel has a good amount of action. Your characters have to get away from the undead and other various bad guys in a hostile, post-apocalyptic world. There's a lot of running, shooting, and bashing of skulls. There's also a lot of yelling.

While I was writing those various scenes, I didn't realize I had used so many exclamation points. (Look out! Shoot it!, etc.) Most of the people in the book seemed to be yelling at each other all the time. Sometimes it was two or three sentences in a row. It was a mess.

I spent a long couple of days removing exclamation points. Just like Elaine from Seinfeld.

I learned my lesson. You can still use the occasional exclamation point for emphasis, but try to keep the number to a reasonable amount. You don't want your characters to strain their voice from yelling all the time. :)

This is my eighteenth and last entry for the April A to Z Blogging Challenge. Today we look at Z-Zombies.

And now we come to Z. I'm going to talk about Zombies.

The story for Sometimes We Ran was bouncing around in my head for a couple of years. At the core, it was a story about a man who decides to leave his survival compound to seek his fortune in a post-apocalyptic world. At first, I had decided to use an old favorite, nuclear war, to end the world. Further research told me I couldn't pull it off. Total nuclear war seemed a little too destructive.

It was during a Walking Dead marathon that I hit on zombies. Zombies would let me end the world as we knew it, and allow the infrastructure to stay intact. My hero could walk for years fighting zombies.:)

I decided on two types identified by the color of their eyes. Yellow-Eye varieties would appear first in my zombie apocalypse. They were the classic zombie: slow-witted walker types that could be trouble in large groups. When fresh, they would be fast. Also, cruel and unusual injuries could be assigned to Yellows, like missing arms, legs, etc.

The Red-Eyes would be different. I made them a little smarter, faster, and more crafty. They worked in small groups sometimes with a leader. I made them ambush predators, hiding in the woods waiting for a meal. Another cool thing was the noises they could make: growling, hissing, or the occasional screech of pain. Red-Eyes are the new top of the food chain in my world.

Both Reds and Yellows follow the zombie rules. Shooting them in the head puts them down. Grievous injury to their body only slows them down. If you are bitten by one, you become part of their crew. They also have a problem with doorknobs and fences. In most of the zombie-themed media I have consumed, the undead can't climb a fence, or turn a doorknob to get at the heroes of the story.:)

That's the zombies of Sometimes We Ran. I decided from the outset that I wasn't going to try an rewrite the genre, but I hope I added to it a little bit.

And as always, zombie fans. Watch out for the Red-Eyes.:)