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Matthew S. Rotundo's Blog, page 10
June 24, 2014
Progress Report, in which a new champion is crowned
Another 5300 words last week, which prompts a special announcement from Magic Meter:
Yes, folks, the second draft of Apocalypse Pictures Presents is finally done, as of 6/22/14, 10:46 pm, CDT.
And with that, APP takes the crown for the Most Difficult Project I’ve Ever Worked On. Hands down. Without question. Nothing else even comes close.
And with any luck, nothing else ever will.
Seriously, folks—the rewrite took longer than the first draft. And the rewrite is 7K shorter. Jeez.
What does it mean? Was the work demanding that much more of me? Was I just being lazy? Some combination of the two? Hell, I don’t know. Ask me a year from now.
Your final snippet:
Then his feet slipped on the concrete and Gil went sprawling.
“Kill him!” That was Ross, from the vicinity of the pit. As if Berkowitz needed any such instruction.
I go to drink from the cask of victory. But I go wearily.
Current Music: "Grey Seal"--Elton John
June 17, 2014
Progress Report, in which I speak French
Another 3.1 K on the Apocalypse Pictures Presents rewrite, and Magic Meter says:
One more logistical hurdle to clear, and then we’re down to the denouement.
The word is denouement, folks. It’s from the French. Look it up.
Oh, never mind. Here’s your snippet:
He checked his own pistol one more time. Fully loaded, safety off, ready to go. He hoped he wouldn’t need it; Susan had berated him repeatedly what being such a lousy shot. But if he did have to fire it, their chances of survival would be slim, anyway.
A wash of headlight illumination at the east doors, and the drone of an approaching engine, though he did not see the vehicle. Gil holstered his pistol—carefully—but made sure it was visible.
The engine cut off. Car doors opened and closed. Footfalls on the concrete outside. Gil drew a shaky breath and wished Johnny Cascio were there.
No updates for Write Club.
Until next week, au revoir.
Current Music: "Crazy"--Gnarls Barkley
June 11, 2014
“From Earth I Have Arisen” Flies in Alembical 3
Hey, did I mention that Alembical 3, featuring my novella “From Earth I Have Arisen,” and work by Kam Oi Lee and John P. Murphy, is now available from Paper Golem?
Well, it is! Order your copy here, or from your online vendor of choice.
Current Music: "Music Man"--REO Speedwagon
June 9, 2014
Progress Report, in which I display bad form
Another 2K on the Apocalypse Pictures Presents rewrite brings Magic Meter to here:
That closes out chapter 19, and brings me to my last major hurdle—chapter 20, which pretty much has to be redone from scratch. I spent some time this weekend figuring out the blocking.
Shut up. I was working.
But damn, I am so ready to be done with this thing. It’s difficult to express in words. And for a writer, that’s bad form.
We wouldn’t want that, would we? No, indeed. So here are some words, AKA your snippet:
She looked around. Everyone was in position—patients and caregivers all. Fear rose in her, threatened to paralyze her. Years of drilling under her father had taught how to disengage her emotions prior to an engagement. But she was unarmed this time, and she would need her emotions to make this work. So instead of trying to block it, she let the fear course through her, let it accelerate her heart rate, let it close her throat to a pinhole.
Santiago had given her good lines. Florence had done her ghoulish best. Pastor Cam had given them a perfect location. The rest of the team all knew what they had to do. It could work, as long as they executed. They would only get one take at this, but they were all used to that.
The others were looking at her. She cleared her throat. “They’re here. Be ready.”
Climax is dead ahead. Forward!
Current Music: "On the Turning Away"--Pink Floyd
June 3, 2014
Progress Report, in which I ask the question but fear the answer
I was traveling last week, usually a recipe for productivity disaster. But as this trip was to a writing retreat, it would perhaps stand to reason that I managed some actual, you know, writing. Huh. Who knew?
Magic Meter tells the tale:
Chapter 18 of Apocalypse Pictures Presents is done, and I’m halfway through chapter 19, which should be relatively low maintenance. After that, only two more chapters to go. Could it be that I’ll actually finish this thing? Is there hope?
You know, on second thought, don’t answer that.
Your snippet:
Another burst of gunfire rang out, much closer this time. Right outside, in fact. She could feel the impacts in her feet. They were shooting at the building, she realized. The lights outside had done their job.
On impulse, she walked toward a door that led to the main entrance. From her position on her cot, Florence said, “What are you doing?”
“Improvising.”
Write Club Update: A tier one bounce from Buzzy Mag. Response time, 66 days.
Onward.
Current Music: "Take It out on Me"--Bullet for My Valentine
May 27, 2014
Progress Report, in which I appreciate your understanding
Um . . . buried in critiques at the moment, gang. They’re due Friday. Needless to say, no time for chat.
Thanks for understanding.
Current Music: "Stillborn"--Black Label Society
May 19, 2014
Progress Report, in which I quote Galileo
So my notes for chapter 18 of Apocalypse Pictures Presents read as follows: “Bad things happen.”
Just so that you know what I was working with, going in. Which may be part of the reason why I only managed about a thousand words. Magic Meter moves minutely:
And yet it moves.
Hey, it’s not often I get to work Galileo references into these progress reports.
Anyway, I now have a better idea about those bad things that are supposed to happen in this chapter, so we might reasonably expect more movement soon.
Your snippet:
Multiview seemed to wind down and down forever, though she knew it couldn’t be more than a mile, even with all the switchbacks. A drop of sweat rolled into one eye, stinging. She wiped it away, gripped the wheel with both hands. The way forward was narrow and dark, and demanded that she proceed much more slowly than she would have preferred. Occasional breaks in the trees afforded glimpses toward the east, but the night was too dark for her to discern any landmarks. She couldn’t even see the glow of the fires, which she supposed was a good thing. Perhaps the containment efforts would succeed, after all.
But the possibility only reminded her how little time she had to make her escape.
It would be much simpler to just abandon Gil. So much of this mess was his fault, after all.
But Wendell’s words back at the house still reverberated within her: We’re no better than the Mouseketeers.
No updates for Write Club.
And so I keep moving on . . .
Current Music: "Hopelessly Human"--Kansas
May 13, 2014
Progress Report, in which I discuss how I always feel
Some 4500 words later, the rewritten chapter seventeen of Apocalypse Pictures Presents is done, and Magic Meter now looks like this:
Gettin’ there, folks. I’m really gettin’ there. Some days I feel like I’ll never be finished with this thing, and some days I . . . no, I pretty much always feel like I’ll never be finished with this thing.
But I’m gettin’ there. Or so I keep telling myself.
Your snippet:
“No, no,” Pastor said. “None of that. The lady’s right, Rodney. Just open the gate a crack, and let ‘em through.” He faced Susan. “One condition, though: you go out, and you don’t come back in.”
“What?” Jazmine’s voice cracked. “That wasn’t the deal.”
“Ma’am, we never had a deal. You aren’t one of us. You infiltrated Hollywood, and then the Hills, and you brought a dangerous young man with you. Now the Hills are on fire and the Mouseketeers are on their way to take Hollywood from us.” He swept an arm toward the west, down Sunset Boulevard. “Hollywood is for Rattlesnakes only. And right now, we have to take care of our own. Your best chance is to get as far away from here as you can, and count yourselves lucky. We don’t get that choice.”
Santiago stepped forward. “Some of our friends are still in the Hills. We can’t leave them.”
Susan extended an arm, indicating that Santiago should keep his distance. She would have enjoyed nothing more than cold-cocking this sanctimonious jackass with all his ma’ams and his aw-shucks country charm, but he was right about at least one thing: Hollywood was Rattlesnake territory. Forgetting that fact would only get them shot.
No updates for Write Club.
Onward. I guess.
Current Music: "Cold"--Black Country Communion
May 8, 2014
Coming Soon: Alembical 3
Hey, look! It’s the cover for Alembical 3!
Cover image Jakub Šram, cover design Lawrence Schoen
Groovy, no?
Alembical 3 is the latest in a series of anthologies from Paper Golem devoted exclusively to novellas. It contains my story “From Earth I Have Arisen,” as well as work from Kam Oi Lee and John P. Murphy, and it’s going to press as I type this.
Just in case, you know, you might want to add it to your wish list, or something.
Current Music: "Take You to the Limit"--Y & T
May 5, 2014
Progress Report, in which I describe how I roll
So. Funny thing. I was hoping to have the rewrite of Apocalypse Pictures Presents done by now, but as regular readers of my progress reports know, that kinda hasn’t happened yet. And I’m going to this writing retreat at the end of the month, at which the beginning of the novel will be critiqued.
Now, when submitting novel excerpts for critique, it behooves one to include a synopsis of the entire work. And I’m not done with the entire work yet. I still have another three or four chapters to go. But the deadline for the retreat was last week.
Which meant I had to cobble together a synopsis before I had finished the rewrite—an inversion of my process.
And if you are a regular reader of these progress reports, you know that I hate writing synopses. I don’t know a single writer who enjoys them, but my hatred burns brighter than a thousand suns.
Nonetheless, I got it done. ‘Cause that’s how I roll, folks: slow, backward, and griping all the way. Impressive, isn’t it?
Write Club updates:
Tier one bounce from Apex. Response time, 42 days.
Tier two bounce from Penumbra. Response time, 44 days.
Right. Time to get back on track.
Current Music: "You Can't Kill Rock 'n' Roll"--Ozzy Osbourne
