I slaved this week: to keep the school work done and to make the NaNoWriMo count each day. I was forced to write until crazy hours to keep up. This Friday I marked as many things as possible, for hours on end. I cleared my lists and freed up time to write.
VERIFIED TOTAL: 15,435 Words
I've been playing with POV alternating between the correctly spoken public school boy: Jon Jacob Ashton and his ex-Navy SEAL bodyguard: Nerysa Na-gah Nuwuvi (Paiute).
I enjoyed researching legends to find a suitable hero that Nerysa could live up to; SEAL training; Gold BUD badges; watches suitable for diving at greater depths; gun performance with and without silencers;motorbikes;the correct desert cactu; ghost mining towns;the direction the sun sets in the one I selected to re-name;airfields suitable for International travel and a few other things!
CHAPTER 2
WELCOME HOME
Dust billowed behind the motorbike; it mushroomed high like an atomic cloud. It showed the world, or the 22 residents of Dry Creek anyway, that someone was coming – coming fast. Nerysa knew that this was not a covert arrival but that couldn’t be helped: her Mama was in trouble. She was one of the five people who mattered as far as Nerysa was concerned. She had called and Nerysa came.
Monday, 9 November 2009
Tuesday, 3 November 2009
Too tired to focus on the keyboard for more than .... zzz
STAYING LOST
I did my first piece of Beta Reading with my captive audience. Wouldn't let the class go home until they'd read part one of the book ;)
Nah! Four enthusiasts read it through for Guided Reading - AF1, AF2, AF3, AF4, AF5, AF6 and AF7 all in one thirty minute session. I did them a favour, really! They had the opportunity to question the author and have an input into how the story could have been improved to meet the needs of the target audience.
I added the sections they thought would help them. Apparently it is a great idea to be rescued, at high speed, from a rugby match but could I slow down, and write more detail when I was doing it: music to my ears!
Nanowrimo Word Count verified at 3,997 zzz
I did my first piece of Beta Reading with my captive audience. Wouldn't let the class go home until they'd read part one of the book ;)
Nah! Four enthusiasts read it through for Guided Reading - AF1, AF2, AF3, AF4, AF5, AF6 and AF7 all in one thirty minute session. I did them a favour, really! They had the opportunity to question the author and have an input into how the story could have been improved to meet the needs of the target audience.
I added the sections they thought would help them. Apparently it is a great idea to be rescued, at high speed, from a rugby match but could I slow down, and write more detail when I was doing it: music to my ears!
Nanowrimo Word Count verified at 3,997 zzz
Monday, 2 November 2009
A fairly uneventful day
So, what did you do today?
Today I took a good Maths plan provided by one of the County Advisory teams and uplevelled it - state-of-the-art not bit-of-a-state! Then, I began on the English planning.
Would you like to know about AFs (in each area of the core subjects)? Or how to build tasks to enable you to have all the data you need - from every lesson you teach - to make APP and PPMs a breeze? Nah, didn't think so!>) *spot the chuckle*
However, the offer is there. Look me up in the dictionary you'll find me there under Geek :)
Then I went to my first firework display of the year - Oh! Ah!
Finally I wrote for NaNoWriMo!! !! !
STAYING LOST by Aleanbh!
Verified number of words so far: 2,649 - and a graph that shows me ahead of target. I'm going to be a happy bunny right up to the moment my alarm goes off at 06:30 and says I have to get up for school.
I went to Borders to chat to Steve - who might be feeling a bit bored passing the time in between signing copies of his book - which they actually sell at my mecca. Who Steve? Writer Steve! Well known author the Changling series.
Steve says he can stay home all day and write now! Colour me green! I wanna do that.
I'd do that. I'd be good, and write heaps, and have to be reminded to pay attention to the changing seasons let alone the hours that pass each day. Oh shucks!
Congratualtions Steve Feasey. (He just does books for a living!)
Today I took a good Maths plan provided by one of the County Advisory teams and uplevelled it - state-of-the-art not bit-of-a-state! Then, I began on the English planning.
Would you like to know about AFs (in each area of the core subjects)? Or how to build tasks to enable you to have all the data you need - from every lesson you teach - to make APP and PPMs a breeze? Nah, didn't think so!>) *spot the chuckle*
However, the offer is there. Look me up in the dictionary you'll find me there under Geek :)
Then I went to my first firework display of the year - Oh! Ah!
Finally I wrote for NaNoWriMo!! !! !
STAYING LOST by Aleanbh!
Verified number of words so far: 2,649 - and a graph that shows me ahead of target. I'm going to be a happy bunny right up to the moment my alarm goes off at 06:30 and says I have to get up for school.
I went to Borders to chat to Steve - who might be feeling a bit bored passing the time in between signing copies of his book - which they actually sell at my mecca. Who Steve? Writer Steve! Well known author the Changling series.
Steve says he can stay home all day and write now! Colour me green! I wanna do that.
I'd do that. I'd be good, and write heaps, and have to be reminded to pay attention to the changing seasons let alone the hours that pass each day. Oh shucks!
Congratualtions Steve Feasey. (He just does books for a living!)
Sunday, 1 November 2009
NANOWRIMO - started at 00:20
STAYING LOST
by Aleanbh Lambert-Stynes :)
CHAPTER 1
Ending up in hospital
Jon ran as if his life depended on it. His aching legs still obeyed his command to move... and move fast. His booted feet slid in the mud but he shifted his body weight until his movement was under control again. Sweat dripped from his short fringe and seeped into his eyes. He couldn’t reach to wipe the drops away so he blinked furiously to try to clear his vision. The wind blew refreshing air in at his open collar and, even as he shivered, he felt a rush of adrenalin that lightened his legs and the precious load he carried. Jon squinted into the setting sun and hoped no one else was there to block his way.
Muffled sounds registered as he ran: the loudest of these was his heart drumming wildly, and far too fast. Jon strained to isolate single sounds but the roar of his blood, as it pumped around his body, made everything else inaudible. He had to rely on his vision to give him the warning that he was going to be caught. He didn’t dare to turn his head to check what was happening behind. He focussed his eyes forward. He hoped they weren’t getting any closer but there was very little he could do even if they were there breathing down his neck. Until he felt the hairs there rising he would do nothing that might slow him down. So, he didn’t begin to deviate from his direct path. He didn’t weave or feint. He kept his eyes open and ran... ran straight and fast; there was no one who could help him now.
WORD COUNT: 654-ish editing :)
I keep thinking quantity, but my head is yelling quality louder.
by Aleanbh Lambert-Stynes :)
CHAPTER 1
Ending up in hospital
Jon ran as if his life depended on it. His aching legs still obeyed his command to move... and move fast. His booted feet slid in the mud but he shifted his body weight until his movement was under control again. Sweat dripped from his short fringe and seeped into his eyes. He couldn’t reach to wipe the drops away so he blinked furiously to try to clear his vision. The wind blew refreshing air in at his open collar and, even as he shivered, he felt a rush of adrenalin that lightened his legs and the precious load he carried. Jon squinted into the setting sun and hoped no one else was there to block his way.
Muffled sounds registered as he ran: the loudest of these was his heart drumming wildly, and far too fast. Jon strained to isolate single sounds but the roar of his blood, as it pumped around his body, made everything else inaudible. He had to rely on his vision to give him the warning that he was going to be caught. He didn’t dare to turn his head to check what was happening behind. He focussed his eyes forward. He hoped they weren’t getting any closer but there was very little he could do even if they were there breathing down his neck. Until he felt the hairs there rising he would do nothing that might slow him down. So, he didn’t begin to deviate from his direct path. He didn’t weave or feint. He kept his eyes open and ran... ran straight and fast; there was no one who could help him now.
WORD COUNT: 654-ish editing :)
I keep thinking quantity, but my head is yelling quality louder.
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
So much of the submission process is about first impressions and page one is the foot-in-the-door... the rest has to back it up with more than a good opening pitch but ...
I'm at home; it's the holidays: I work on chapter one ;-)
I want page one to tell you everything you need to know - does it do that?
NEAR EDGWARE
CH 1
A few small differences
Dad parked in front of the white, stone entrance. Even there I could see that things had changed. On the new school crest there was a beast standing on two legs. It had sharp teeth, raised claws and it glared down at visitors to school.
I scanned the familiar, red brick building as I walked around the front of the car to join Dad, “That’s different.”
He put his hand on my shoulder as we stepped into the reception area. He pressed both the buzzer, and my arm, while we waited. The secretary wove between the desks towards us; her expression did not match the “Welcome to Woodford College” banner on the wall.
“Good Morning. I’m Simon Trainer, and this is my daughter, Jess. We’re here to see the Headteacher.”
She picked up a pen and tapped it on the diary date, “Mr McIntyre is in his office. I’ll let him know you’ve arrived. Please push the green button and I’ll let you in.”
We walked into the brown, tiled corridor and sat beside the office. I smoothed the fabric of my trousers over my knees. I tried to make sure that my toe tapping was invisible inside the shoes I forced to remain still.
“Mr McIntyre will see you now,” called the assistant as she approached.
Glancing at Dad, I caught the moment he narrowed his eyes and straightened his shoulders. His preparation for battle didn’t match his, "It’ll be fine."
We followed the secretary into the room dominated by a long, curved desk. Our view of the new Headteacher was limited to a glimpse of his mid-brown hair, and the jacket of a charcoal suit, as Mr McIntyre turned to reach into a low drawer in the filing cabinet behind his chair. He paused, drew a deep breath, before he swivelled back around.
National Novel Writing Month planning
To say that my plan for namowrimo is sketchy is grossly exaggerating the faint scrappings on my page. I have names, chapter titles and a concept.
I also have fifteen pages of notes for the novel I've decided not to write - plus a board full of images and a wordy opening paragraph; why would I want to write that project?
I don't even know if I'm writing MG or YA.
I can't quite pin down the genre - although action is the driver so, maybe, that would do.
No worries, then? 50,000 words in a month about some-thing-or-the-other? That sounds about right.
Today I entered some kind of regional word war... not quite sure if it is with, or against, the Irish fraternity across the water. I hope it is with them - against our trans-atlantic cousins, because, as my writing name suggests, I have strong Gaelic connections. It's going to be like when England play Eire at football... but without the fence to sit on!
I also have fifteen pages of notes for the novel I've decided not to write - plus a board full of images and a wordy opening paragraph; why would I want to write that project?
I don't even know if I'm writing MG or YA.
I can't quite pin down the genre - although action is the driver so, maybe, that would do.
No worries, then? 50,000 words in a month about some-thing-or-the-other? That sounds about right.
Today I entered some kind of regional word war... not quite sure if it is with, or against, the Irish fraternity across the water. I hope it is with them - against our trans-atlantic cousins, because, as my writing name suggests, I have strong Gaelic connections. It's going to be like when England play Eire at football... but without the fence to sit on!
Tuesday, 20 October 2009
National Novel Writing Month - Aleanbh's writing the next one
Oh! No! Now, I've been-and-gone-and-done-it!
Swamped with work, to the point where I was having trouble remembering where my home computer was, I spent September producing absolutely nothing. This being the case I, obviously, decided to celebrate feeling that I had a little free time by deciding to enter the NaNo Challenge. I should have paid closer attention to the title: "Nah no" ... followed by... 'way' rather than "Wri Mo."
To celebrate this piece of lunacy, and the fact that some YA author has dibbed the name Smith and painted it all over my genre, I did a little psycho-analysis: I looked deep to find my alter ego and sent her forth to enter in my stead.
My earliest memories are of my father and cowboy movies. ( Now I come to think of it, perhaps both of these facts are linked!) Twice a day he would comb a wicked wave into his hair, and sing, whilst shaving. I was tiny, but I vividly remember him picking me up, from where I was jumping on the toilet seat (wise move) and sitting me on the cistern (less wise,) and singing to me. He had a beautiful tenor voice. He always sang the song "Eileen Aleanbh". It was my name... in full... to me.
I've had Dad on my mind a lot, recently.
I'm dedicating my writing month to his memory.
Dad wrote poetry five times a year: for my Mum's Birthday card, Christmas card, Valentine's card, Easter card and for their Wedding Anniversary card, too. He said that the rhymes he found in the shop-bought card never, quite, said what he wanted to say. He wrote his own poetry - with help from his little, then not so little, helpers. He'd gather us around the table and get us chip in rhymes or ideas if he was having trouble with his verse. Writing was a joy.
The cards stopped, just before St Patrick's Day, quite a while ago but Dad's love of learning (and poetry), which he instilled in me, certainly didn't.
I'm writing my November novel for PJD.
Swamped with work, to the point where I was having trouble remembering where my home computer was, I spent September producing absolutely nothing. This being the case I, obviously, decided to celebrate feeling that I had a little free time by deciding to enter the NaNo Challenge. I should have paid closer attention to the title: "Nah no" ... followed by... 'way' rather than "Wri Mo."
To celebrate this piece of lunacy, and the fact that some YA author has dibbed the name Smith and painted it all over my genre, I did a little psycho-analysis: I looked deep to find my alter ego and sent her forth to enter in my stead.
My earliest memories are of my father and cowboy movies. ( Now I come to think of it, perhaps both of these facts are linked!) Twice a day he would comb a wicked wave into his hair, and sing, whilst shaving. I was tiny, but I vividly remember him picking me up, from where I was jumping on the toilet seat (wise move) and sitting me on the cistern (less wise,) and singing to me. He had a beautiful tenor voice. He always sang the song "Eileen Aleanbh". It was my name... in full... to me.
I've had Dad on my mind a lot, recently.
I'm dedicating my writing month to his memory.
Dad wrote poetry five times a year: for my Mum's Birthday card, Christmas card, Valentine's card, Easter card and for their Wedding Anniversary card, too. He said that the rhymes he found in the shop-bought card never, quite, said what he wanted to say. He wrote his own poetry - with help from his little, then not so little, helpers. He'd gather us around the table and get us chip in rhymes or ideas if he was having trouble with his verse. Writing was a joy.
The cards stopped, just before St Patrick's Day, quite a while ago but Dad's love of learning (and poetry), which he instilled in me, certainly didn't.
I'm writing my November novel for PJD.
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