Being a writer isn’t easy for anyone.  For those of us who do not count writing as our profession, however, at times it can be nearly impossible.  Over the past few months, I’ve struggled to maintain my pace as my project at work has consumed my attention (and caused me no small amount of frustration).  But in the end, I’ve been making excuses.  I made a commitment to this, and over the past few years writing has brought me no small measure of joy.  Now, with autumn returning and NaNoWriMo just around the corner, there is no better time to refocus myself, and get back to work.

With that said, I’m pleased to announce that I am back, and committed once more to keep writing, keep posting, and keep working toward the goal of publication.  So, here we go…

Halloween

This year I’m trying something new.  My more dedicated readers will remember that last October I posted Focus, my first attempt at horror writing, which I dare say went exceedingly well.  Recently I posted an edited, polished version of Focus, which seemed to be very well-received.  Between that and the positive feedback I received for another horror-tinged short story, this year I’m going to mark the fall holiday by trying my hand at true horror writing.

The Harvestman, a short story I am currently working on, will be posted on Halloween, and will certainly represent a stark departure from my usual fare.  Set in central Pennsylvania in 1987, the story follows former homicide detective turned private investigator Don Crane as he looks into the disappearance of a Penn State student, who disappeared on his way home for a weekend visit to his hometown of Scranton, PA.

Don Crane is unlike any protagonist I’ve written: a burnt-out ex-cop who left his homicide beat in Pittsburgh after seeing more than enough blood and death for one lifetime.  Now, he’s living in Scranton as a PI, and is about to take on his first case.  Needless to say, things get dark in a hurry, and I think this story will be sufficiently unsettling to satisfy the average horror reader.

Originally, I’d intended to post The Harvestman this weekend, however the way the story’s developing I felt it wise to delay until Halloween.  The extra time will ensure that I can do this right, revising and perhaps letting my editor look over it, in hopes of creating something of equal quality to my repost of Focus.  My readers have gone a long time without seeing new fiction from me.  I feel I owe it to them to make this worth the wait.

So long as the story goes well and is well-received, I plan to make this something of a yearly tradition, releasing a new Don Crane story every year on Halloween.  I’m only about halfway through The Harvestman, but already I like Don Crane too much to relegate him to a holiday one-off.

NaNoWriMo

October is drawing to a close, and November is nearly upon us.  For most, that means time to toss that rotting jack-o-lantern and order the turkey.  For writers, however, it means the approach of National Novel Writing Month.

For thirty grueling days, thousands of writers, published and unpublished, seasoned and aspiring, will write until they bleed, in hopes of putting down 50,000 words toward a new novel.  Last year was my first year participating, and I’ll be the first to admit I made some critical errors, and ultimately failed to make the most of the experience.  This year will be different: I plan to be more invested, more engaged.  I intend to immerse myself in the experience, participate in local write-ins, and start connecting with my fellow writers in the Greater Cincinnati area.

As I mentioned in my NaNoWriMo announcement post, one of my critical errors last year was selecting my current primary project as my novel.  Pathfinder is, of course, a project near and dear to my heart.  It is also, without a doubt, my most ambitious undertaking to date, featuring exhaustive realism and a grander plot line that will ultimately span several centuries.  It took me the better part of a year to lay down 50,000 words of Wide Horizon, and I pantsed my way through most of that one.  Thinking that I, a novice writer fresh off my first novel, could write 50,000 words of something like that in one month was, in retrospect, hilariously unrealistic.

So, this year I’m working on a soft sci-fi project I’ve had cooking for quite some time.  Breaker will almost certainly be an easier write: most of it takes place in the real world, and the sci-fi elements are more imaginative and have very little basis in hard science or theory.  It’s still going to be rough going, but I’ve already written out the start of a scene that went very well.  So, here goes nothing…

Wide Horizon

Needless to say, between my hectic work schedule and my editor’s, the editing of Wide Horizon has halted.  However, my goal was to be seeking publication before the end of the year, and I can still do it.  With any luck, writing Breaker will help to spur my creativity, and I’ll be able to somehow balance writing for NaNoWriMo with making suggested edits to several key sections of Wide Horizon.  My hope is that, by the middle of the month (if not sooner), I’ll have completed my re-writes, and will be able to begin content editing.  With more than a little luck, Lauren and I will be able to work through the content editing in about a month, and by mid-December I’ll finally be able to start shopping around for an agent.

It’s time to get back to work.  Time to stop making excuses, and find my rhythm again.  It won’t be easy, but nothing worth doing ever is.  Sometimes, when you’ve been out of it for a while, you can’t help but feel as though you’ll never get back into mid-season form again; you look back at what you’ve written in the past, and it almost feels as though someone else wrote it.  But the important thing is that someone else didn’t write my best short stories.  Someone else didn’t write Wide Horizon.  I wrote it.  And whether it’s as good as everyone has told me or worse than I could fathom, I’m proud of what I’ve created.

Nothing worth doing is ever easy.  Given the winding path my life and career have taken to get me to this point, I should know that better than anyone.

It’s daunting, but by God, Sue and Tom Kuester didn’t raise a quitter.  I wrote a 143,000 word novel.  I can do this.