I got some more words in today on the way into work as well as over lunch. I also realized after the fact that I had my villain smack somebody hard when he is also suffering from a broken arm. This is an eager oversight on my part (I was excited to get into the story) but something I hope to patch up soon enough. Ugh my chapter 15 reconstruction/mergining is driving me crazy. I’m on the last part of it but I keep finding my own continuity errors which causes me to go back through and tweak things again.

So I got about 900 words in over this past hour. My family and I are in San Fran right now at we are all staying at a Holiday Inn Express. Let me tell you waking up early and sneaking off to their breakfast area was the only way I was going to get any kind of writing done.

My end result… 900 words more done.

Yes, I’m still in chapter 15 but this is the chapter that has some of the threads merge back in and tie together before new ones branch out again until the ending. I swear I have a plan.

That is it for now. Time to drop the kids off in the pool before I go and take a shower.

The worst thing you write is better than the best thing you didn’t write.

– Somebody Unknown and Unpublished and probably Unloved

*

I’m not a big fan of motivational posters but this one tickled my cheese 😉

The tree’s trunk absorbed the bulk of the magnetic slug round. The resulting impact caused the trees trunk to explode upward and backwards into the air. It flew close to a dozen feet before coming back down over the top of tactical specialist hunter Kronos Magnum.

He gave a momentary yelp of surprise but did his best to maintain control over himself and his best means of defense, his own sniper rifle. He mentally drew a line using both himself and the tree as two of its coordinates. He now had a fuzzy idea to where the shot came from. The tree’s branches settled in around him and he remained motionless except for the slight sway of his spying scope.

He then heard her laughing. Her voice like fingers on against his chalkboard brain. He tried to push her reality out from his own before that bastard out there could get another shot off on him. He dug his eye up into the scope of his weapon and found his adversary. He was up on the edge of a ridge. He was an idiot. His silhouette made him stand out as if he was begging to be shot.

Tactical specialist hunter Kronos Magnum took in a breath and steadied himself to fire. That was when he saw the barrel of his target, the person hunting him, recoil upwards.

The bastard had-

*

Tactical specialist hunter Kronos Magnum awoke in the regenerative chamber. He glanced down at his restored body and wondered how long he had been out.

He didn’t have long to wonder as a mortar shell slammed down in the middle of their base. Kronos Magnum to leap out of his chamber and stumbled his way towards the nearby weapons rack. He grabbed himself another sniper rifle and ran as far and as fast as he could knowing he was a sitting duck otherwise. He jumped over the still uniform of one of their own and picked up his weapon in addition to his own. It was a spray and pray and that was when Kronos noticed that his fallen comrade was Jenkins. He shook his head in disbelief that the guy had even made this far out of their base.

Another mortar round exploded not far from where he had paused to pick-up Jenkins gear. Kronos Magnum bolted once more towards the periphery hoping to lose whatever eyes might be on him.

He heard her giggling again.

He almost snapped out at the voice telling it to leave him alone. He was shell shocked enough and didn’t need any more distractions. Now being in the trees it made everything effectively close combat; Magnum brought up his saw weapon.

It was just then he heard her squealing mixed in with the sound of the incoming mortar. The explosion would have taken him out had he not jumped behind the fallen tree off to his side.

His ears started ringing only now they sounded as if they were made of her voice, a voice of glee at his near tragic death.

He almost yelled out to the voice but knew now was not the time. He needed to keep moving. His saw weapon had been destroyed by the blast but thankfully he still had his sniper rifle. Kronos bolted as fast as he could away from there not knowing exactly where he was or which was he was headed.

Off in the distance, he heard a dog barking. Somebody was nearby, he could tell. He then heard the woman’s voice, “It will be a few minutes.”

Kronos groaned as he tried to shut all of that out of his head. This was war and right now he had somebody hunting him; he was going to kill the bastard if that was the last thing he did.

He saw movement up ahead. Kronos dropped to a knee and brought his weapon to bear. He eyed the target just as he saw the target’s weapon bounced up-

*

Kronos awoke once more in the other regenerative chamber. He clamored out just as quickly with one thought on his mind. He was going to kill this son of a bitch once and for all.

This time, he was all the way across the battlefield and so knew it would take some time for the bastard to make his way over here. He had a few moments to find himself a hiding spot and try and figure this all out.

Thirty seconds later he was nestled up in what the remained of the attic in under the roof of a high-roofed cottage. This location afforded him a good view of anyone heading his way but also providing some protection along his sides. It was perfect. He allowed himself a deep breath and brought his scope up one more as he heard her laugh again. Kronos had no warning of the round that ripped his head clear off from his body.

*

Throwing his headset down on top of his keyboard; Han’s pushed himself back from his computer desk and stormed out of his office. He crossed the house and nearly kicked open the door to the room where his girlfriend’s son was seated at his own computer. There standing next him was his girlfriend giggling as she had been doing the entire time throughout the game.

He wanted answers. “How in the hell!”

He then heard her giggling again. Hans looked away from Eric and over to his girlfriend as the pieces started to come together. “You?”

She broke out in hysterical laughter.

“You… you were telling him where I was the entire time?”

She snorted as her head bounced rolled up and down while still laughing.

He wanted to punch her. He wasn’t going to but he sure wanted to.

“Not cool!”

Eric reached out and hit a couple of keys on his keyboard, “I’ll take it you never bothered to glance at the name of the person who was killing you?”

Stepping forward he took a glance at the screen, “No-” Then he saw it, clear as mud, the screens reporting the results of the game winning kill. [Kronos’s Shadow killed Kronos with a head shot.]

Eric gave a cheesy grin, “I kind of gave myself a name that might have given you pause.”

Han’s repeated the name aloud, “Kronos’s Shadow?” He exhaled, “No, I didn’t see that.”

Eric grinned, “Obviously.”

Han’s turned and left the room as he said sarcastically over his shoulder, “I hate you both.”

End

So my brother asked about my experience with writing groups, namely those I’ve found and joined as a result of using Meetup.com.

Well it’s a mixed bag let me tell you.

I’m going to ramble here and hope you can follow along.

People are self-serving, unpredictable, moody bastards who often react without thinking anything through. I know this because I too am a large celluloid organism that is nothing more than chemicals swirling around driving my moods and actions.

Have I lost you yet?

No? Okay let me try a bit harder. People are nothing more than a bunch of self-righteous ass-hats. You see I see that they see themselves in perfect sight as divine beings who always *looking out* (I had to sneak one more in) for what is best for them.

There is a reason why newspapers are written at the fourth level education. People don’t read the details and so have to go in expecting the retard you meet to have no understanding it is as to what you are trying to do.

For instance I have, this is a true story, gone to a writing group with a one page short story and said, as I started handing them out, “Please don’t worry about my spelling or punctuation, I’m looking for emotional feel.” Ten minutes later as they are handing them back in I see a sea (Oh… I’m thinking about ways I could have gotten ‘sea’ in up above) of red in on it pointing out my missed comma’s etc. Really? Was a one sentence instruction to much to keep in your head over the span of ten minutes?

Another time, shoe is on the other foot here, I got a short story from a woman, this is a fictional writing group mind you, and she passed it out without any kind of prep/setup what so ever. The two stories prior to hers where about aliens and acid trips. Hers was about a woman adopting a child and how these events changed her life. I, being at fault for not asking, began to pick apart the protagonist actions as sounding to whimsical. The character seemed, I’m my opinion, to have an emotional floppiness that left me unsettled. I was the first person on this particular day to give my opinions. As I gave my assessment I could see her eyes starting to water. I then wondered if she was feeling resentful or embarrassed so I slowed down my rhetoric and pointed out where I thought the story was strong to try and balance out the weak. I didn’t get very far as she stood up and stormed out. I found out later what she had written was in fact, a recounting of her very own life. Talk about ouch.

You have to know how other people are going to screw with you, intentionally or otherwise. You also have to prepare for how you will come across to others. I have always thought of myself as a bit stoic or logical to the point of being emotionally cold. Others, namely those close to me, don’t tend to see me in this way but then again they are closer as well as utilizing their own biases. Which is right? Hard to say. Let me tell you I do have an emotional wall within me and have used it on more than one occasion. Personal introspective moment here, when I was splitting up with my first wife, I was confused and devastated but at some point, I just decided I was done and erected my wall. After that point, when she made it clear she was done with me, I used that wall to its full potential. Now I’m not saying I’m hiding behind it so much as I can use it as a tool. I tend to think others also possess this ability but often don’t reach the right conditions to discover it within them. I use a version of this wall when I’m hearing other people giving feedback of my own works to me. Translation… I don’t get emotionally bothered by one specific person not getting something. Now if a majority of people don’t get something then I know the issue is mine to address. It’s kind of like the old Crest toothpaste commercials, “Four out of five dentists agree…” If you story is weak in “X” and a number of people all say the same thing then do what you can to address “X”.

Now let’s go back to the person who is really good at pointing out your errors. The person that handed you back a bleeding page when all you asked for was a quick look over. These people can either be really good at what they are doing, have a lousy memory, or can be looking to sabotage you. Huh? Yes as dumb as that sounds some people are out to make themselves feel better by breaking down their peers. So you have to gauge this for yourself. Are they being jerks or do they have a true passion (to be a jerk?) Sadly some people tend to think of me as a bit of a jerk. To them, I would have to say “I’m sorry” but at the same time, “Are you being honest with yourself?”

By far the largest type of people I experience in writing groups are the “book and wine” people who come for the wine and never read the book. You know the type. The kind of person who is there for the social aspect and doesn’t take much of anything else all that seriously. They are full of shhype and yet can’t ever deliver on anything. I’m looking at you Shad. Shad? Who’s Shad? Is that his real name? He knows who he is. Just remember that most people fall can easily fall into this category in one way or another. Life tends to find a way of getting between you and your passion. On top of that, you also have to acknowledge that what is a passion today could easily become just a hobby tomorrow.

It has taken me years to reach a point where I feel I have some quasi-reliable people to read my stuff and provide feedback. Sadly I can’t even count on my own family. Yes, for those of you still paying attention this was addressing a question my own brother posed to me and no this isn’t directed at him. I know that for much of the time as they are busy living their own lives as well. My kids, now almost 6 and 10, are now at an age where I can pursue a bit of hobbyist/passion once more. Had I tried committing to a writing group when they were younger it would have been impossible. I understand that different people have different priorities and these things can change.

The thing that is the most frustrating to me is the slowness of it all. I can, as my NaNoWriMo experience can attest, easily produce 50,000 words of a draft in around 20 days. And that is while working full time and doing what I can to be a husband and father. Other people can’t seem to keep up with me. I also have to acknowledge that sometimes I’m just not in the mood to write and that too is okay in others. For example, over the past three weeks I’ve been taking some time away from writing to play a computer game which recently came out. I finished the game (more than once) and now have that out of my system. I’m back to writing again. I’m not a single focused machine and do need other types of input/output from time to time. It’s just frustrating when others can’t seem to find any time to focus on any one thing for any amount of time.

So let me get back to addressing my brothers question. Yes I do enjoy partaking in writing groups. I have grown in a number of ways, both emotionally and in my skills. I also feel so very alone because like oysters of the sea (snicker) not everyone has a pearl you might gleam some wisdom from. There is a lot of fecal matter floating about and you are going to get smeared by it from time to time. Think of writing groups as a form of dating. The person you meet may seem attractive but once they speak you know they got nothing of any real value. You are hoping to share your own personal and intimate details with in hopes of finding a few agreeable partners.

Best of luck.

I’m ten minutes out from work and had to take a break because I didn’t want to do myself more harm than intended. I need to check my timeline before I have my villain say what I was going to have him say.

Yep.

*

Right now I’m hanging out with one of my Meetup.com writing groups.

That is all….

Ouch, my head hurts.

Okay, so I got a rough understanding of my timeline with my old darft 1 day 12 sketched in. Now I just have to go through and re-write the 5,000 words knowing just what order the things are going to play out.

Hello getting up early on Saturday morning, here I come.

Darft? I see you little red lines. You know what I’m going to leave it. I’m feeling kinda darfty right now 😛

I just texted my wife the following

[

Pppsstttt… wanna see me naked? No?… Okay. Sorry to boner you 😉

]

Yeah, I’m that kind of guy. She’s a lucky girl.

The dumb looking movie.

Have I ever played the game? – No

Have I ever thought of playing the game? – I had an inclining a time or two but the way they do their exaggerated art just turns my stomach.

Now I have seen the trailers for the movie when leading up to other movies.

Still doesn’t hold my interest.

The soundtrack however…

The digital beats I heard…

I am quite sure I am going to give the soundtrack a moment of my time to check out.

I just can’t get that excited about a fictional character that has ears longer than their limbs.

* * *

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles…

I watched the original movies back in the 80’s/90’s. They were okay but nothing grand. I even remembered each of their names and for those of you who recall me saying I barely know my you get two points of introspection. I still know that the Red one is Ralph and I’m guessing that the Purple one was Donnie.

Did I see the first one two years ago? F-No! It’s Michael Boom-Boom Corporate Commercial Whore ‘Kersplosion’ Bay!

Yeah, I have issues and one of these days they are going to be worth something if I ever decide to sell some of them off. (That is a comic book joke from one of the T-shirts I own.)

– Ranting done