Hello, dear friends, I’m pausing for a few moments to let you all know that I’m still alive and well (or as one of my yoga friends puts it, “still vertical and sucking air!”). NaNoWriMo is going well as far as my word count: reached just over 30,000 words today. Yay! Except my fingers now feel frozen in that claw-like pose I use for typing, and my butt has gone completely numb (not comfortably numb, mind you).
Still, cranking out the quantity this weekend buys me a few days. It simply feels too much to be on the computer all day at work only to come home and turn another one on, so writing during the work week is hit and miss for me.
And then there was the news. I’ve often joked that Friday the 13th is a lucky day. I will joke about that no more. I’m sorry to end this post on a sad note, but my usual “happy face” just feels so false right now.
America loves John Cannon, its newest hero, and the President wants to present him with the highest civilian medal for bravery for saving the Annapolis midshipman from a terrorist plot to destroy them. While in Washington for the award ceremony, John unwillingly becomes an accomplice in another plan by the same group to attack the credibility of the US President and the stability of the worldwide oil market. There is no way out as John either becomes a traitor to America or causes thousands of innocent people to die if he refuses.
The second John J Cannon Thriller moves from a barrier Island off the coast of Texas to Washington DC, then to Northern California, and finally to Ecuador. John is on the receiving end of an offer he cannot refuse. His avowed enemy Matt Jacobs now wants John to help him shake the reputation of the US in the world political arena and disrupt confidence in the government at home. If John refuses, Matt plans to murder innocent Americans including John’s latest relationship. John’s only way out is to pretend to go along with the plan and hope for a miracle.
Excerpt from Chapter one
The water rushes over my head. I’m sinking and don’t know why. With my breath held, I have trouble stopping the air from escaping since the pressure drives the air up and out. I try to keep my mouth closed, but the water pressure pushes the air out more and more. Will I pass out? In the distance, the light is dim. To rise to the surface in time might not be possible─I need to breathe right now. Toward ending the pain in my chest, my rambling mind rationalizes taking a deep breath—even knowing it will end my life. In conflict with the irrational thought of ending it, my body won’t let me suck in the water, as it fights to retain the little bit of oxygen left to fuel my brain.
The despair is nearly overwhelming, and my mind considers other ways to battle the feeling. What more could I have done with my life? The pressure becomes more intense, and I’m about to lose it all, and I decide I’ve lived the way I wanted and have no regrets. I close my eyes and hear only the roar of the sea. I’m so tired. Exhausted. Sleep will fix everything, and I want to give in.
About the Author
John’s main interests are reading and writing. He turned to writing as a full-time occupation after an extensive career in business. John writes fictional short stories and novels as well as a blog at http://www.johnwhowell.com. John lives on a barrier island in the Gulf of Mexico off the coast of south Texas with his wife and spoiled rescue pets. He can be reached at his e-mail johnhowell.wave@gmail.com, Facebook https://www.facebook.com/john.howell.98229241or Twitter at @HowellWave
His first novel, My GRL is available on Amazon and wherever e-books are sold
One of the pleasures of participating in NaNoWriMo is losing myself in my writing. When I come up for air, I might be a 30-something, petite, blonde who works as a city attorney, wheeling and dealing with developers while trying to keep safe her own parcel of heaven.
Or I might be one of those developers, in particular the guy who looks like he just walked out of the Dukes of Hazard, leather-skinned and chewing tobacco, but astute enough to own practically the whole town.
Or maybe I’m the newly appointed county sheriff, brought down from one of the northern states to try and get this southern backwater law enforcement agency back in shape, without getting killed in the process.
Then again, I could be the former sheriff, the guy who was forced to resign because nobody could stomach the depth of his corruption anymore, especially after the gruesome death of his wife, to which he claimed complete innocence.
I’m sure you can imagine which characters make for a small word count because even I can’t stand be in their presence very long. And, yet, I must. Crazy is as crazy does. And writing is how I get my crazies out.
So I’m still plugging away. Right now (on a late rainy Sunday afternoon), I’m at 15,051 words. But tomorrow is Monday and somehow the workday just makes it hard for me to find time to write. But I have some rewards waiting for me, urging me on to that 50,000 work mark.
Chocolate, chocolate, flower seeds, stones and shells–all from Alaska!
And while I’m enjoying my Alaska chocolate bars with my hot Alaska chocolate drink, I’ll be reading this:
Kevin Brennan’s latest novel!
And this:
John W. Howell’s latest novel!
And possibly at the same time since I have one novel (Kevin’s) in paperback and one (John’s) on my Kindle. Yup, that’s the other pleasure of NaNoWriMo: When you’re done amassing 50,000 words, you can put the laptop away, shut down the computer and just READ.
(Comments are closed while I busy myself with writing and visiting your blogs!)
Yup, here I go again. Time for NaNoWriMo (that’s National Novel Writing Month for those of you who have been living under a rock for the last several years). I signed up again for the insanity of writing 50,000 words in a month. I’m starting to think that this is truly my preferred method of writing, and that I may never publish. Just participate in NaNoWriMo once a year and spend the rest of my time knitting.
I’ve tossed about story ideas for this go-round. Should I be my typical self and just sit down and write whatever? Or should I try a little planning, maybe use NaNoWriMo to polish one of my many rough drafts? At this very moment (which will be gone by the time this post is actually published because I’m writing all this on the afternoon of Sunday, November 1), I’m still undecided. I’ve signed up, but I thought I would rehabilitate a short story that I wrote several years ago. It needs a lot of work, and I was thinking that turning it into a novel would be one way to do some “world-building,” dig into the details of the landscape and characters more than I did with the original story.
Here’s a brief synopsis:
Jane Hilton is a young lawyer and native Floridian working desperately to save what little remains of her family’s once extensive plantation in the Florida Panhandle. Justus Tanner is also a native Floridian, and his and Jane’s families share a long and adversarial history. Tanner is Jane’s nemesis, a developer prone to making deals based on threats rather than promises. He wants that last spit of land that Jane calls her “Green Bubble,” the only legacy she has from her mother. Jane is determined to keep Tanner from getting it, even if it means one of them must die.
Yes, yes, yes, again someone is likely to die in this novel. I do have a (bad) habit of killing off characters. But, you know, therapy.
So, off I go to write, write, write. And because I’ll be spending so much time writing (a draft of) a Great American Novel, my blog posts for this month will be skimpy and closed for comments. Priorities, my friends, priorities.
To tide you over, here are some photos from our road trip last month. Scenes from our hotel room in Staunton, Virginia.
My husband’s camera all set up and ready to take a timelapse of the setting sun, in Staunton, VirginiaThe sun will be setting soon …Here comes the rosy glow of sunset …My favorite photo!Okay, it’s pretty much set now.The next morning … for all you golfers out there :)
The second John J Cannon story continues John’s wish to bring the terrorist Matt Jacobs to justice. In the first book, My GRL John was able to thwart the plot to destroy the Annapolis midshipmen on their summer cruise. Of course, terrorists being what they are not content with just one try to embarrass America. In His Revenge, Matt Jacobs takes his hatred for America and John Cannon to another level. The action moves from a barrier Island off the coast of Texas to Washington DC, then to Northern California, and finally to Ecuador. John is on the receiving end of an offer he cannot, refuse. His avowed enemy Matt Jacobs now wants John to help him shake the reputation of the US in the world political arena. If John refuses, Matt…
Kevin Brennan’s latest novel, Town Father, is NOW available on Amazon! And the best part is, it is available in paperback with an gorgeous cover! Sigh, eye candy for readers :) Don’t waste time. Go get yourself a copy. I’m on my way now :)
Unexpectedly, Town Father has shown up on Amazon and can be purchased in paperback today. I thought for sure it would take two or three days to appear, but CreateSpace and Amazon have become remarkably efficient. Like all Death Stars.
But all the better! You can get your own copy of this fine edition right away.
And my goodness, but doesn’t it look scrumptious? I know, I’m biased, but I think Max Scratchmann outdid himself on the cover image and interior. It’s a real beauty. Matter of fact, if I were to smuggle a copy into a bookstore and plop it on the front fiction table, nobody could possibly tell that it wasn’t published by one of the top traditional houses. One thing I’m thinking of doing, marketing-wise, is to send copies to some of the better-known indie stores out there with a pitch…
In advance of the paperback’s release, I thought you might like a little look-see at Max Scratchmann’s remarkable cover for Town Father, Or, Where Graceful Girls Abound, along with a bit of teaser text.
Be sure to tell all your friends. Don’t forget, word of mouth is literature’s best lubricant.
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A Town of Nothing But Fallen Women?
Utopia or Ill-fated Experiment?
Scandal in the Foothills!
Three hundred independent-minded women in 1880s California have embarked on an impossible journey: to establish a town in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada composed exclusively of women. The only way for the singular town of Hestia to succeed, though, is for a second generation of residents to come along, and the women imagine there must be, somewhere in the country, a benign and willing gentleman who can help them. In short…
Ah, yes, I’m back, dear Reader. Back to my home, my blog, my blogging friends who were (and are) never far from my mind, my furry four-legged friends who I don’t think really missed us as much as they missed getting more than two meals a day. Then again, they might have missed our laps since our temperatures are a bit cooler these days. This picture isn’t very good, taken with my camera in poor light: Junior, our feisty, “I just wanna be outdoors all day”, male cat sacked out on my legs once the temperatures dipped toward the 60s. Yes, dear Reader. Our southern cats cannot abide the cold.
Junior crashed out on my legs.
We had a lovely trip overall. Aside from a bit of rain at the beginning, we had clear, sunny days for driving up to north NY, to visit my family. We gave ourselves plenty of time to drive so we had some flexibility with our itinerary, allowing us to make a detour to Gettysburg, PA, and to switch hotels at nearly the last minute when one day we realized we could drive further than originally intended.
I learned how to swim with whales, except these were land whales, or you might call them semi-trucks. On interstate 81 there often were more trucks than cars. Many times we found ourselves between two trucks with one truck cruising along side us on the two-lane road. It was … interesting.
We had only one rainy day in New York, but we were visiting relatives so that was fine. We spent time with my mother, who will be 92 this month, her remaining siblings, my sister and her husband, and two-thirds of their brood.
I met up with an old high school friend, someone I hadn’t seen or talked to in almost 40 years. It was to be a quick visit but, four hours later, we still had plenty we wanted to say and learn about each other. It was hard to say good-bye.
And much of the trip was filled with eye candy. Autumn is my most favorite season, but often when we’ve gone home, it’s been in summer or late fall, after the colors have started to fade. Our timing this time was perfect. It wasn’t riotous reds and oranges all the way, but that was part of the fun. We got to see some of the transition. Each day we drove off from my sister’s house, another tree was starting to turn.
Believe it or not, I took very few pictures. I was too busy enjoying the sights and often too busy driving anyway. My husband, however, took this “movie” of our drive away from Saratoga Springs where we had just spent the afternoon. Unfortunately, the movie is rather pixelated since it was taken with his iPad. But you get the idea of what we saw.
And, finally, a song that always makes me think of where I grew up …
I know I must be having a great time on my trip. I’m looking forward to telling you all about it when I return. In the meantime, here’s one my favorites. And it’s particularly appropriate for this particular trip.
Marie at 1 Write Way 