writing, publishing, dreaming & other stuff

Welcome back to my behind the scenes look at what happened the year I tried to write a 50,000 word novel in a month. I’ve been reposting blurbs from my blog and the work in progress that emerged. If you need to catch up, here is part 1 and part 2. This time we meet Ted Jannock, would-be Senator.

from “Nano Update 02”, November 10, 2007

Word count: 5677

mood: bit frustrated, bit happy: dealin’ wit’ it

My antagonist told me he’s really not a bad guy, just the fall guy. I reluctantly had to agree. Now, I’m rewriting a bit of his backstory (which wasn’t exactly fleshed out to begin with). Overall, I feel like the writing is better than when I first started. It darn well should be, right? Isn’t this gift like any muscle that you exercise and watch grow stronger? Tough days ahead… but I’m really looking forward to introducing the protagonist’s hacker friend. I’m sorta saving him for a rainy day and slow word count.

peace to all Wrimos

from Chapter VII

Ted Jannock smiled at Tracy, the bubbly young woman taking his order. She probably didn’t know who he was. The young people of Preston were brutally apolitical, but that was OK in Ted’s book. The less ideals they developed at that impressionable age, the easier it would be to sway their vote when they were older and had enough money and power to care about. He asked for a tonic and lime while he considered what to order. The great thing about tonic was that it looked just like club soda, increasing the chance his waitress would screw the order up. Then he’d have the pleasure of watching her walk away again.

Apparently all the restaurants in town hired from the same pool of swishy hipped college girls. Ted imagined a clandestine factory hidden within one of the city’s many abandoned warehouses. Beneath the flickering flourescents, bustling assembly lines would creek under the weight of their product. One line for short, busty brunettes. Another for chirpy blondes with round butts. Yet another for the attractive specimen serving him today; pale with inky black locks and freckles, she quickly returned with his tonic. He ordered a Ceasar salad and bowl of chili and quietly observed as she left to place his order.

Ted had a loving wife at home. Unlike many of his peers, he waited until he finished college before proposing. He’d had his pick of women even while he was dating Janice, but he understood at a young age the political value of having the right wife. Janice had all the important qualifications: she came from old money, was president of her sorority, and she was smart and extremely attractive. Even now she easily turned men’s heads who were half her age. To Ted’s knowledge she had never engaged in more than aggressive flirting, but he didn’t try too hard to find out otherwise. He knew he wasn’t in a position to complain if she were unfaithful. And although Janice overlooked his occasional straying, he wasn’t willing to push his luck. He considered their marriage a fairly typical one, and if polled, he reckoned over half of the town’s couples would admit to a similar arrangement. And truthfully he had grown quite accustomed to her comforting presence. Janice had stood by him for 26 years. She watched his political career grow from its infancy and never questioned his destiny.

Ted graduated college in the early 80′s at the top of his class. Double majoring in Political Science and Business had placed a great strain on their relationship. However, the effort soon paid off. His first public service position was as a city council member. At the same time, he started and ran a very successful real estate venture. The explosion in tech-based businesses provided lucrative sales to Internet startups. Everyone was high on the possibility of becoming an overnight millionare. Venture capitalists were more than willing to pay unheard of prices for land. The best part was that after technology tanked, Ted was able to buy much of the land back for a song. He and Janice were already rich. They became obscenely rich after selling the same land again.

After a six year stint on the city council, he became the town’s youngest elected mayor. By then he had secured his position among the town’s elite. Yet he never lost touch with the less fortunate citizens of Preston. He frequented shops and restaurants in every section of town, and was liked and respected by people from all walks of life. After 10 years as mayor, he retired to concentrate on personal ventures. His now expanded real estate business included out of state deals that made his name commonplace across the country. His running for Senate was no accidental occurence. He once shared his lifetime plan with Janice. It was a printed timeline with milestones listed by year, including his projected death. She shuddered at the calculated precision of the whole plot and he never mentioned it again. Ted indeed had it all figured out. He had hit most of the milestones he set for himself. Becoming a senator was the next one, but it wasn’t his ultimate goal by any stretch of the imagination. But one step at a time he told himself. Sieze the day, but plan for tomorrow.

Tracy, Ted’s waitress returned with his salad. Again, he enjoyed the unintentional show she put on as she sauntered toward the kitchen and waited for his chili. He nibbled the salad and finally took a sip of his tonic only to discover that it was club soda. He chuckled softly and motioned for Tracy.

Last week I began a series about the year I participated in NaNoWrimo. I posted a short excerpt from my blog and the novel I began. I hope that participating writers find inspiration in my brief commentary, and that readers enjoy a peek at the lump of clay before it’s thrown into a beautiful vase. Again, the work is unproofed and unedited. This week, meet Claire, who shares main character duties with Jason.

from “NaNo Update 01”, November 5, 2007

Word count: 2877

mood: committed, slightly tense

Dialog time… not a happy fun time exactly, but necessary. Had a nasty but urgent matter to deal with Friday, and I had to work Saturday. Falling of pace is no fun, but the good news is the story feels like a story and I talk with my characters all day. That is good news, right?

from Chapter III

Claire turned the classical station down until the string section blended with the hushed exhaust of her BMW. Tympani softly pounded through the subwoofer. She hummed, tapping her slender fingers against the steering wheel. If it were Saturday she would roll the windows down to feel the still crisp March air. But today, her curly red locks needed to remain in place. Today was her first meeting with Ted Jannock. Jannock was a Republican running for Senator in a tightly contested race. Several years of public relations work and much networking had netted Claire the job of managing Jannock’s campaign. A left leaning moderate, Claire was initially ambivalent about accepting the job. It wasn’t that Jannock was the sort of Bible thumping, rabid conservative she saw swarming the country like locusts. In fact, his stated positions on many hot-button issues illustrated nuances that eluded many of his peers. He was the only Republican candidate who publicly vowed not to vote for any Constitutional amendment banning gay marriage. And his time spent lobbying for stricter environmental controls gave him enough buy-in from the emerging earth-friendly crowd to make other candidates more than nervous. But Claire understood that no matter how middle-of-the-road Jannock tried to appear, he would ultimately need the support of many people whose views she personally abhorred.

The swelling crescendo of violins helped still her ragged nerves. She finally accepted the many tense moments to come: meetings with leaders of the state’s prominent religious denominations, pacifying the anti-abortionists, confronting the pro-death penalty crowd. She was outlining her talking points list when she heard a cacaphony she didn’t remember in the concerto. She looked in her mirror and was greeted by four round headlights and a chrome grille. The loud red car swooped in behind her, cutting off a Porsche driver that didn’t want to give way. Claire was accustomed to the city’s occasional muscle car owners who continued to live in the 60′s and 70′s. Despite outrageous gas prices, they continued to blast the streets in their gas-guzzling, hyper-carbon emitting dinosaurs. She considered most of them to be rednecks. They often had a Confederate flag license plate attached to the front of their time machines. The ubiquitous concert tee seemed to be their official attire. They were part of the constituency that she dreaded having to negotiate with to ensure Jannock’s election to the Senate. But to her surprise, the driver of the car now filling her rear-view mirror was black… and in business casual clothing. The apparent contradiction between her expectations and reality unsettled her. Also unsettling was the exhaust note from his car. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the road just in time to see a Golden Lab dart in front of her car. She slammed on the brakes and gripped the wheel tighter. Not expecting the brief slide as the anti-lock brakes regained control, she looked in her mirror. The front end of the gleaming red car dipped sharply, and she saw the rear end begin to come around. It was still gaining on her. In that instant, time slowed down another notch, and she instinctively lifted her foot from the brake. Before her foot lost contact with the brake pedal, the jolting thump of her car slamming into the dog made her stomach roll. The lab was knocked clear of her car and onto the shoulder of the road. With some distance between her car and the old automobile behind her, she slowed and pulled off the road.

She exited her car and walked nervously toward the twitching gold and red form. The red classic began to slow down as if its driver intended to stop. Claire watched, getting a better look at the nicely dressed owner. Pecan brown, short hair, mid-30s. Those were the only details she had a chance to take in as the driver downshifted and punched the accelerator. She watched the receding tail lights fade into the bluish grey haze of the highway. Watching the dog die had nearly erased the calm the concerto had filled her with. Shaking, she muttered “I’m sorry” before turning and walking back to her car. Safely back on the road, and with the unxepected carnage behind her, Claire turned the radio off and drove the rest of the way in silence.