The Book Part V

I don't like distractions.  You know what I mean? Today, the distraction is the pain in my spine.  If you are considering getting old, I recommend finding the fountain of youth and partaking of that sweet elixir.  My darling wife did that when she was in Florida. We were born five days apart but I am aging much faster than she is.  She is beautiful, young and fresh.  I joke with her that she has the body of a 16 year old. But, honestly, she does.  I'm a lucky guy.

But, back to the journey at hand.  At lunch today, I made some progress.  Not a lot, but some.  Things are laying down nicely and I feel like I have my voice back in the story with my head back in the game.  I know this because I can see where I went wrong and am able to make the corrections to make the work stronger and more exciting.  I heard from a friend that if a sentence doesn't create action or move the story forward, take it out.  I have done a lot of editing lately.

I was involved with a local writers group in San Diego this last year, The Science Fiction Writers of San Diego.  I attended a few functions and submitted a couple of stories for publishing in the anthology. As of yet, I haven't heard if either of the stories were chosen.  We'll see. Either way, the work I wrote up will be published either way.  One of them is already out there in cyberspace, "The Silence."  I revised it for the anthology, but it's true to its original content.  The other story is an addition to the world of Talos, and Tales of the Pirate ship Ferryman.  It's a great back story for the stowaway in that deep space story.  I'll unveil it here as soon as I have word that it is accepted, or excepted.

Also, on a side note, I fell into a game online that Google has thrown at all of us.  I try to keep myself from being so 'distracted' by it, but it is entertaining.  The game is called Ingress. (Thank you for the heads up, Gabe.) You should really check it out.  It is amazing.  (https://www.ingress.com/)
If you find yourself in line waiting for something to do, and decide to check out your phone, try it out. Join the resistance, like me.   :)

TTFN,

My Last Word Count: 56,758
Today's Word Count:  57,374

The Book - Part IV

 (Paper Draft (259 Pages and the "Murder book" of Detective Gomez.)

Almost halfway into January and I am just getting back to my book project.  I got into it at lunch. (Ah, yes, the feeling of accomplishment.)

It took me a while to settle in to the mindset I needed, but I got into the story quickly. Sometimes writing is like being in a trance.  At least, for me it is.  I often wonder if anyone else writes the way I do?  I mean, when I sit down I reread where I left off and then visualize the story in my head, just like watching it on TV or a movie.  I just keep typing, putting it all down, describing each scene as it plays out. Do you ever do that?  The characters are so tangible at times.  You know, if I leave off on a scene and don't get back to it, I swear that when I think of the story while I am running around during the day, I can see all the characters just standing around as though on a break on a movie set, chit-chatting and hamming it up. It's like they are waiting for me to say, "Places, everybody!" And, "Action!"

There's a scene I wrote up like that where two cops and a suspect were standing in a kitchen and I didn't get back to it for sometime.  They were only walking through the house to go into the garage.  for days, maybe even a couple of weeks, I kept imagining the scene and how it should play out. there were a lot of logistics to be hammered out. But every time I came back to the scene in my head, all three of them were drinking beer and sitting around telling jokes to one another.  No, that didn't end up in the scene, not by a longshot. But in my own head it was pretty dang funny.

Today I feel like I reaffirmed faith in myself.  I went into a chapter in the book where I wrote in some really good eye catching stuff.  I love to go back after some time has passed and reread thinking, "I wrote this?" Not bad, not bad at all.    

Today was like that.
Last Word Count: Word Count: 56,608 - Jan 12, 2015
Today's Word Count:  56,758

Edited 20 pages today.  Started on a new chapter.

TTFN,

D. Paul Fonseca

The Book - Part III

(The view out here is often distracting.)

I think that the worst part of writing a book between the hours of say, the rest of my life, is probably one of the most frustrating things ever.  I'm going to have to start putting a word count in here just to motivate myself and kick my own ass.

This last month, I have seen my daughters grow and change.  They both had birthdays in the last few weeks.  One turned 18 and the other 12.  Momentous occasions for both of them. I am so proud of those two.  I'm proud of the little one for being brave and for being an all around good kid.  She tries hard to do the right thing and works diligently at school.  My oldest, I am proud of for the same reasons.  She has her moments - the moments when she seems to have lost her way, and I can't deny that there are many, but underneath it all, I know she is doing her best and she has a good heart. I hope she can see that in herself one day.

So, again... time.  Time comes and goes so fast in my day that I scarcely take time to myself - that includes writing and editing in the book. At the moment, the time is: January 12, 2015 at 11:46 AM Pacific Standard Time.  I'm taking a short break at work just to get this out there and maybe I will read it later and realize that I need to keep working on my book.  I have to finish this soon. Otherwise it may just wipe me out completely with the stress of not having finished it.

Word Count: 56,608

TTFN,

D. Paul Fonseca

The Book - Part II

This is Jack

The years from 2006 to 2014 is a long time to work on a single book.  But, honestly, it's the last thing on my to do list every day.  Oh, don't get me wrong, writing is a real passion of mine.  But, responsibilities come first, and the primary responsibility in my life has been my wife and my two children. I know, I should put myself higher on the rank of priorities, but it is hard for me to feel like I have that luxury.

The good news is that after all this time, I am close to finishing the book and I am growing more excited every day. So, why am I writing a blog instead of writing the book?  Because if I don't let this tension out somewhere, I mean, unless I want to bore someone talking about a story that isn't yet published, this is the only place I can ramble on about it. 

I found that if I stare at all the pages too long in a single sitting, I start to make huge changes and I don't want to do that. So, at the moment the story is, how should I say... fermenting.  I'm letting it sit for a few days, maybe a few weeks and then I'll re-read the whole thing again and make sure it's all good to go.  I did this once already and found a few days worth of work to fix. You know, inconsistencies and misplaced portions. 

It's a strange story, and like the doll in it, Jack, the story itself has taken on a life of its own.  There are so many people in it who have been inspired by people I know. But, I think what moves me about the story is how personal it has become.  I mean, there is so much of me in it I wonder if all writers put themselves so deeply into their work.

Along the way, I have written on paper, on the backs of flyers and on my computer at home.  For a long while, I found that writing on my ipod Touch using the notepad helped me make use of idle time, like while riding on the bus to go to work in the mornings, and riding home.  Standing in line in places was a good time to write with the ipod Touch.  I probably wrote 20,000 words on that little thing before it died.  Now I am carrying around an iPad Mini, but the draft has moved from a local machine to my email, where I can pick it up, work on it on a tablet - personally, I found my Windows Surface tablet so much more versatile for writing than my iPad Mini. The Windows Tablet came with MS Word already and I plugged in a Bluetooth keyboard and it allowed me to type for hours and hours while I was in the jury lounge waiting to be called to Jury Duty.  (What a wonderful day that was!)

In all, as an unpublished author, meaning I haven't published any books yet, or sold many short stories, I try not to feel daunted by the challenges presented.  Online, I heard that Amazon.com's publishing wing is getting greedy with their new Kindle Unlimited subscriptions deal.  Author's aren't making as much money as before. That worries me a little, but I am hoping to enlighten myself along the way before I put all my chips in the pot.  So far, I haven't found a publisher.  I may search for an agent.  Any comments on finding a good agent would be appreciated.

There's a horrible fear I have.  The fear that I'll die with all my words still in my head.  I wrote a short story, The River and The Woman of Light, which illustrated that fear quite well.  I'll be writing tonight.

Until next time, adieu.

The Book - Part I

You see it in so many movies and read about it in books, you know, that laughable story of the person who says, "Hey, I'm writing a book!" Then around the room heads turn and someone chimes in under their breath, "He's been saying that for years."

It's the joke that keeps on going and nobody wants to hear it. The reclusive and annoying self titled author wants to mean business.  He has every intention of getting to the work of writing that one great, passionate bundle of prose, but something is always getting in the way.  That's how things have turned out. That's me, the guy in the room everyone is nodding towards with half empty glasses, and meaningless, sympathetic smiles. Nobody loves an unfinished author. No really, they don't.

Let me back up a bit. Okay, maybe a lot.  Back in my twenties, when I was married to my first wife, the mother of my first born, I had an idea.  I thought up the premise of what I thought would be a really great story.  I wrote out twelve pages, and they were, for lack of a better word, captivating.  I hate to toot my own horn, but after shopping it around my local group of peers for their thoughts, I resolved that my idea was sound.  I wanted to expand upon it, and they wanted me to do that as well. But sadly, it sat in a drawer for a good long time. The process I began just fizzled out.  Over time, it came back into view, fermenting in my mind.  But I didn't write more down because I was just too busy.  That was 1998.

Life goes on.  my first marriage lasted six years.  It was for the best, after all, my former wife had made a turn for the worse and although an argument can be made that I made a promise for 'better or for worse,' nobody told me how bad worse could be. I emptied my cabinets and drawers and ran away in my car.  For the time being I still had a job working as a carpenter for my ex's family.  That memory clearly reminds me how my ex believed that she owned me, because of that fact.  Working for her family, and not having an education, made it hard for me to make a clean break. That and the fact that we had a child together.  But, let's get back to the story of the story.

After being homeless for two months, living out of my car, a kind friend took me in.  His name is Mike.  Mike is a great guy, despite his issues. I was fortunate that he took me in when he did because I had been growing desperate. Once I had settled in, I found work and had a moment to reconnect with the life I'd lost track of.  There was the story, staring me in the face from the bottom of a box full of other stories, finished stories. I knew I had to finish this one as a book.  But, as I suggested earlier, I'm the guy who's been saying that for years.

Fast forward to 2002. New wife, new life, and I began working in a completely new field.  You know the one, the job where many of the best uneducated, but intelligent, people start out at, Customer Service.  But the biggest hurdle was still to come.  In 2006, I almost died, but instead, I spent eight hours in surgery removing a part of me that had gone bad.  I guess I do that a lot, removing the parts of my life that go bad.  It made me think about all the unfinished stories I still wanted to tell.  Having now remarried and having a second child did more to hamper my time spent writing, so with this uniquely new perspective, the prospect of my own mortality, I decided it was time to finish that book.  And so I began.