NANUQ - Week Five - Day Three

Wellll...I have been doing some rewriting of the past NANUQ chapters based upon information I got from my dad regarding Churchill. I thought I would do some cleanup before I do the final push to finish the book. I am also driving to work this week since Yvonne has spring break off, so no writing on the bus. So not much progress on the writing front this week, or most of next week either...but sometimes LIFE takes precedence.

But when I do get back on it, I will be writing with a vengeance to get the my 2nd book finished and off to proof reader.

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

Story Time - “I’m finally dead. Now what?”

“I’m finally dead. Now what?” Mark Twain grumbled as his soul pulled itself loose from the cooling corpse that lay on its deathbed. As he predicted, he had died the day after Halley’s appearance in the skies above Redding, Connecticut. He remembered writing last year these words: “I came in with Halley's Comet in 1835. It is coming again next year, and I expect to go out with it. It will be the greatest disappointment of my life if I don't go out with Halley's Comet. The Almighty has said, no doubt: 'Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together.'” And go out he did.

As he felt his spirit tugged upwards, he glanced down at his empty husk. “Damn I sure look ugly. I would suggest they have a closed casket at the service if anybody could hear me.”

Picking up speed, he passed quickly through the ceiling of his bedroom (this was a somewhat dizzying experience as his vision was momentarily obstructed by wood grain and a rather busy termite) and popped up into the attic. At this point he seemed to take a right angle and sailed through an old wardrobe (his scarlet and grey gown from Oxford was in sore need of cleaning from all the lint) and burst out into the open air. The sun was shinning and the sky was such a deep expanse of blue that it would have made his heart ache if he still had one.

As he zipped along over the tall oak trees of his neighborhood, Mark Twain began to wonder if someone should be with him to usher him into the next phase of his existence. “I guess somebody—or something—is moving me along, so I guess I shouldn’t worry about it. Though it would be nice to see Ol’ Henry so I can thank him for all that money he lent before he passed on.”

Up, up, up he went, soaring high above the Connecticut countryside. The blue of the sky became deeper and deeper, and soon he could see stars twinkling overhead. “It’s strange to see the stars in the middle of the afternoon. At least it looks I heading the right direction…though I am sure Hades would have been interesting, too.” He chuckled.

Into the blackness of space he flew, with the Earth spread out below him like a massive multicolored quilt. He was positively giddy with delight. “If I had known being dead was so marvelous, I would have left sooner!”

The Earth began to recede, becoming a ball of blue and brown and swirling white. Mark felt a pang of loss as he continued to pull away. Then he noticed a light above him.

It was Halley’s Comet, its long tail stretched out like the wake of the fastest schooner in the universe. Crystals of ice glitter in the sunlight like a million billion diamonds in trail it left behind.

Faster, faster, faster he raced through the darkness, his target clearly the comet head. “I wonder if I will need a key to get inside or will I have to knock and wait patiently for someone to let me in?”

Now he was above the tail, flying over it like an undulating snowscape. “Can’t be too much longer now...” And in a flash of light he was in.

Mark felt his spirit surrounded by an infinity of facets reflecting the light of the sun ahead. It was like skiing down a slope a brakeneck speed on a mountain without end. The rush was exhilarating.

“Samuel,” Came a voice from nowhere and everywhere.

“Eh? Nobody calls me Samuel anymore. It’s Mark Twain thank you very much.”

“Okay…Mark then. I have a proposition for you.”

“Which is?…”

“You have two choices. You may return to Earth to be born as a child with no memory of your past life…”

“Or?...” Mark prompted impatiently.

“Or you may continue riding the comet on its journey out of the solar system and into the hidden mysteries of space.”

“Hmmm…” Twain pondered. “How soon do I have decided?”

“After the comet swings around the sun, it will pass by the Earth on its way out. You must decide by then, Mark.”

“Well…alright then…this will take some considerable musing on my part, whoever you are. Both choices have there pros and cons, I am sure…but for now just let me enjoy the ride.”

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

Story Time - Don't pay the ferryman...

Talal fed and watered the horses before he joined his companions around the campfire. His manservant, Sigmund the Elder, was slowly turning the spit on their evening’s meal, his lean frame wrapped in a wool robe. On the spit was a small octubruin, skinned and gutted, that had wandered too far from its pack. Just one of its eight legs would make a full meal for the three men. The rest would be dried and salted for the journey ahead.

“'Tis a cold night, by the Oracle.” Marcus said, pulling up the zipper on his down-filled coat. It was an antique passed down many generations, each patch a badge of honour. There was faded label inside that read in the ancients’ script that it had been manufactured in 1968. The coat was a bit tight on his bulky frame, but Talal’s man-at-arms did not seem to mind.

“Here, have some hot rewberry cider.” Sigmund said as he passed over the dented kettle that had been sitting by the fire. “It has a bite to it, but it will warm thee up but good.”

Marcus grinned and poured a healthy shot of the potent drink into his clay mug.

“Don’t drink too much, dear friend.” Talal warned as he carved off a piece of the octubruin, its rich meat steaming in the cold night air. “We must wake early on the morn if we are to catch the ferry. It’s a full two day’s ride to the Black River and it only runs once a day.”

Sigmund shudder.

“Don’t worry, Sigmund.” Talal chided. “Nothing will go wrong. That ol’knob of a ferryman can’t hurt us as long as I carry the talisman.” Talal held up the golden amulet he wore around his neck, the blood-red gem at its center reflected the firelight like a dying Cyclops’ eye.

“Please I bid thee put it back, sire.” Sigmund said, making the sign of the Oracle on his forehead. “May the sweet Oracle protect us if you ever lose it.”

Talal chuckled, but put the talisman back under his tunic.

“Now eat up so we can get to sleep. I don’t want you falling off your horses tomorrow.”

#

Talal and his men arrived at the banks of the Black River just as the sun was about to set, its dark waters sluggishly churning past. The Black River was wide; his far shore unseen in the fading light. There were no vessels in sight.

“The ferry is not here.” Sigmund said with undisguised relief. “Perhaps we’ve missed it.”

“It’s coming.” Talal said simply as he got off his horse.

The sun seemed to be yanked below the peaks of the distant Jagged Tooth Mountains, plunging the landscape into twilight.

As if on cue, a creaking noise could now be heard drifting across the water. Sigmund pulled his robes tighter around his thin body.

In a few moments a dark shape materialized out of the dusk: the Black River Ferry. The vessel was ten paces long and five paces wide, large enough to easily transport a dozen men and their mounts. At the back was hooded figure leaning on a long pole, pushing the ferry towards shore.

The horses whinnied in fear, rolling their eyes. The three men had to struggle to keep them calm and under control.

“Hocus-pocus.” Sigmund muttered darkly under his breath as he held his mare’s reigns tightly.

The ferry pushed its flat prow onto the bank, forming a natural ramp. There were no railings to protect one from falling into the dark waters.

“Hail Ferryman.” Talal called out loudly. “My servants and I seek passage across the Black River.”

“Three Imperial Crowns each…paid in advance.” Issued a gravelly voice from the blackness of the hood. A skeletal hand reached out, palm up.

Sigmund whimpered and Marcus took half a step back.

“We shall pay thee when thou get’s us to the other side.” Talal said smugly as he pulled out the talisman from his tunic.

The hooded figure cringed as though repulsed by the amulet. They could all hear an angry hiss.

Tightly gripping his horses reigns, Talal led it onto the ferry.

Once they were all on, the ferryman used his pole push away from the bank. The shore quickly vanished into the darkness—the ferry carried no light. The only sounds were the horses’ frighten breathing and the water brushing against the shallow hull.

Feeling bold, Talal strode towards the bow where the ferryman stood. “Tell me, good Ferryman. Will the voyage be long?” Talal took delight as the figure leaned back from him.

“We shall arrive in two candles’ time, my lord.”

“Ahhh…good.” Talal resisted the urge to pat the ferryman on the back. No sense pushing his luck.

He walked to his two men who were comforting the horses.

“See, I told you no harm could befall us as long as I had the talisman.” Talal said proudly as he held up the talisman on its golden chain.

He saw Sigmund’s eyes grow suddenly wide, a gasp escaping his thin lips.

Talal laughed. “Stop worryi—“

Talal felt himself yanked to the side as long, waterlogged pole was thrust through the gap between the amulet and his body. There was a sharp jerk and the chain snapped, the talisman spinning off into the air and vanishing it then night.

Marcus pulled out his sword, while Sigmund fainted dead away. Clutching his neck in pain, Talal turned around and found himself face to skinless-face with the ferryman, its hollow sockets glowing with unholy fire.

“I think it is time we renegotiated the terms of our agreement, my lord…”

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

NANUQ - Week Four - Day Four

I was working on Chapter Twelve this morning. I only have one more chapter after this, since I will be ending it on Chapter Thirteen...I think...we'll see...

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

NANUQ - Week Four - Day Two

Yep, after I finishing my first book, Son of Ogres, I decided to quickly wrap up my second: NANUQ. I am now writing Chapter Eleven, and figure I only have at most three more chapters to write and I am done.

I am on a roll!!!

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

SON OF OGRES - Week Three - Day One

I finished it!!! :: does a happy dance ::

I finished writing my first book of the challenge: the young adult novel: Son of Ogres. I have emailed it off to my proofreader/editor to have at it and hopefully I will have something publishable when it is all said and done. This is all very exciting because it means I have more time to devote to my other three books now.

I must might pull this off...

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

RUST - Week Three - Day Six

Well here is Chapter Two of RUST. Enjoy!

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/30470328/Rust---Chapter-Two

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

RUST - Week Three - Day Four

I am about halfway through Chapter Two and I just introduced the main antagonist. He is one bad ass. It will also be the first action scene, which I just started writing before too many people got on the bus for me to write. By the by, have any of you tried typing on a laptop when you can't have your arms at your sides because there is a person squeezed in beside you? It's a total pain.

Sooo....ahhh...I got an email from the website that hosts my chapters, and it indicate each of my NANUQ chapters has be read 21 times....and I only have 8 followers! Who is all out there who is reading my stuff? Let me know. Do you like it? Does it suck? Leave a comment or send me an email at wave.yesreply@gmail.com so I am not writing here in a complete vacuum.

Glad I got that off my chest...

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

RUST - Week Three - Day Two

Book III – Science Fiction - RUST

Rust is a world composed almost entirely of rusting metal wreckage, stacked layer upon layer upon layer. In this world is a young man, a scavenger, who searches for fungi to feed his clan. The story begins when the man discovers that the rusted bridge that he needs to cross to get to a large toadstool patch has collapsed into the rusted chasm below. The scavenger needs to find a new source of food or his clan will perish from starvation.

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/29678099/RUST---Chapter-One

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/30470328/Rust---Chapter-Two

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/35385661/RUST---Chapter-Three

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/36095234/RUST---Chapter-Four

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/37627076/RUST---Chapter-Five

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/38592185/RUST---Chapter-Six

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/38717545/RUST---Chapter-Seven

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/43888283/RUST---Chapter-Eight

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/44978782/RUST---Chapter-Nine

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/51110866/RUST---Chapter-Ten

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

RUST - Week Three - Day One

So I finally finished Chapter One!!! Yippee!!!

I told you it takes a lot of work to get that first chapter done for a book. I will give it another look over to make sure it looks good and then I will post it here for you to read.

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

4 More NANUQ Chapters

Here are four more NANUQ Chapters!!!

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/29525577/NANUQ---Chapter-Six

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/29528102/NANUQ---Chapter-Seven

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/29528171/NANUQ---Chapter-Eight

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/29534436/NANUQ---Chapter-Nine

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

I'm overcome with emotion...

So I am working on Chapter Nine of NANUQ and I am writing this really hard scene, and by hard I mean it is very emotional. It wasn't hard to write because the words just flowed out of me and into the laptop. It was hard because I was literally getting choked up as I wrote. I swear I came this close (holds his fingers about an inch apart) to crying. And I haven't finished it yet cause my bus ride had reached the end.

So here is the amazing part, I think: It is one thing to be reading a story, get caught up in the characters and what they are going through, and find your emotions being pulled this way and that.

But to be the writer...to be the one who is fabricating the story...creating the characters...giving them their words...describing their actions...and still get so caught up in what he is writing that he has a lump in his throat as he is typing furiously away on the bus...it just amazes me.

Even now, as I write this blog entry an hour afterwards, I still feel my sorrow tugging at me. I really don't know how to adequately describe this. I'm a writer (or at least I think I am!) but it's hard to find the words to do justice to what I am feeling right now.

I think this really speaks to the power of the written word. That words can not only move the people who read them, but the also the person that writes them. It would be one thing if I was writing about real people...and about real events that had actually happened to them. But these characters only exist in my head! They can only express themselves when I write their words on paper (figuratively speaking, of course). Events and actions can only occur if commit them to my laptop's memory.

Now sure, this stuff could just exist in my head. I could think about it and dream about and never write a single word of it and it would be mine, all mine, Muuuhhhaahhhaa etc. etc. And these thoughts, these musing could affect me emotionally, just as your thoughts and musing can affect you. But I think its different when you take all those thoughts and feelings and put them down on paper. They have to be more congruent...more linear. Grammar and spelling imposes itself, and you can't just pour out images and scenes onto the page...you have to write them! You have to describe what is going on...determine how much detail you should go into...and how much to hold back.

Writing is a solitary process in one sense, but also a very public one in another. When I am writing, I am alone. It doesn't matter if I am riding on a bus with fifty other people--they are not participating with me in the process. I. AM. ALONE.

But in another way I know that these words that I am typing right now will be read by others...by you! I am laying bare my soul as it were. My words, my characters, my stories will either move you or they will not. It is my duty, my obligation to make sure that words I am writing do move you. I need to make you see what I see...hear what I hear...to eavesdrop on the thoughts of a young boy whose father might be dead or lost or...?

Will I succeed? I sincerely hope so. I am doing my darnist to transport you along with me on this ride. There are plenty of seats, and the cost of admission will be the price of a fairly thin paperback. (That's if it gets published, of course.)

Anyways, enough of my ramblings. Thank you for listening...er...reading.

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

3 MORE FLAME CHAPTERS!!!

I said I would add my latest FLAME chapters to site, and here are the links. Enjoy!

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/28803995/FLAME---Chapter-Five

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/28804508/FLAME---Chapter-Six

http://www.docstoc.com/docs/28804690/FLAME---Chapter-Seven

I have also added chapter links to the side menu which lists the books. If you click on "Chapters" on the side, you will be taken to a blog post that lists all the existing chapters for a particular book. I will be updating NANUQ later this week the same way.

NANUQ - Week Three - Day Four

Where have you been, James!??

Ummm....doing stuff. I have been writing, so no worries there. I am just about finished Chapter Seven of NANUQ, so I am guessing I will have the first draft finished by the end of Week Five, which is near the middle of May. Once it is done I will be sending a copy of the word document to my volunteer proof reader to go over it, then I will do the required clean up. After that, I will start shopping it around to agents.

So where are we at in the story? Well, once I finish Chapter Seven, I will post it and Chapter Six on the document hosting site, with links on this blog.

I personally think this is a really good story. It will probably need some work in the editing department, but the story itself I think passes the sniff test.

Anyways I have got to get ready to go to work. Later, gators.

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron

FLAME - Week Three - Day Four

Is it Thursday already? I have been writing, but I haven't had much time to blog about it. I had game night on Tuesday and then yesterday I went to a high school play that my nephew was performing in: Kiss Me Kate. Great show by the way.

I have been working on my first two Buka chapters. Buka is a tribal medicine man who is the descendant of Perais, who was the apprentice who escaped the destruction of Atlantis. Buka will be made aware of the alien god's return and will try to stop him. I will be posting more FLAME chapters this week so you can read 'em.

By the by, please feel free to comment on the chapters in this blog if you so desire...

Continuing on my write of passage,
James Baron