Back in the Saddle…

Back in the writing saddle, that is.

Hearing Matt Forbeck's goal of writing 12 books in 12 months is both scary and inspiring. Basically, Matt is shooting to do a NaNoWriMo-length novel of 50,000 words every month in 2012. It's made me sit down and start calculating what it would take to hit a million words in 2012. The number is surprisingly small – 1000000 – four NaNoWriMo projects (200,000), minus the shorts I've already written for MPF (just north of another 52,000) = about 750,000. Divide by the number of writing days I'll have in 2012 (313) and I come up with 2,400 words a day. Wolfram Alpha puts it at 2396.16. But what's 3.84 words among friends?

It's not that much. I can hit that in two hours or less a day. The real concern isn't whether I CAN. It's whether or not I WILL. And it's that way for everyone. Of course that's 313 days of writing. No time off. No breaks. No vacations. Every day, when I get up, I need to put about 2400 new words down someplace.

I'm working on a second draft of the next MPF story, tentatively named Norris Tilney and the Docks of Dover. It's set in the same "Spells and Sparks" universe that Scott Roche and I came up with for The Battle of Wildspitze and that I explored a little more in Finding the Fire.

I've got to give most of the credit for this universe to Scott. I came up with mages and airships as an opening, but it was his placing of Baron von Richtoffen in the initial story that really cemented it in time and space for me. A pre-WWI fantasy world, with various factions maneuvering to potentially start or stave off the Great War. It's a really fantastic idea, and I hope I'm up to delivering a fantastic story in that world.

I'm posting a short excerpt from the story here – it should be done within the next couple of days.

"… No, no. They'll try to lay this squarely on your broad shoulders, my good man. Or on Dorothy's – we are not without our own enemies. Of course, they'll have to come up with some explanation as to how you came to be alive after the disaster. They'll probably charge you with desertion, and the official story will claim that you were never aboard the Columbia in the first place. Possibly you'll be hung, just to be sure that no nasty rumors start circulating."

Tilney's heart sunk, and he stared at his hands. "So… that's it?"

"Is it? The tribunal hasn't ruled yet, have they? I suppose that we have approximately three days before they'll have all their pieces in order. In the meantime, you'll most likely remain in confinement. That is, if you're still here."

Tilney looked up to see Lucius Bennett's wolfish grin. "So I'll ask you again, Mr. Tilney. How would you like to accompany me to Dover? There's no guarantee of any clemency, and you may be running into a worse fate than a hangman's noose. You know I claim to be a member of the Croix du Sangre, but other than a stickpin and my presence here in the Tower of London, there's little corroborating evidence of that. I could be merely speculating about your chances, but…" Mr. Bennett's eyes crinkled, and Norris was again aware of the feeling that he was being seen straight through. "… you were at the tribunal. You saw those men. What do you think your chances here? What are you willing to risk for your freedom?"

Norris Tilney stood again, returning the little man's piercing gaze. "I lost good mates on the Columbia, Mr. Bennett. And there were women, and children aboard. If what you say is true? If there's anything I can do to see that what happened to them doesn't happen to someone else? Then it's my duty to do so." He looked around the cell. "And it's a duty I can't fulfill from inside here."

Mr. Bennett smiled. "Very good, cadet. Very good indeed." He reached back and rapped at the door twice. "Now to effect a daring escape."