Obligatory Political Post

Well, as if there were much doubt these last few days... As this is being written, Sen. McCain is giving a very gracious concession speech. American politics has turned a corner, moved forward to a new generation, the generation beyond mine. Our politics has turned away from the tired, old themes of the wrestling match of the last 16 years.

Oh, finally Republicans are winding up owning their mistakes.

No noveling today, but YT did crank out a scene list for more than half of the plot.

Annual (Re)Introduction

Here is the very first posting in Free Range Novelist, updated for 2008.

This is the National Novel Writing Month weblog of Wes the Bricoleur. Or, for short, NaNoWriMo and YT (yours truly). The goal of NaNoWriMo is to write a 50,000-word novel in the month of November. That's it! 1,667 words a day, every day, quality not even a consideration. Free Range Novelist chronicles my experiences during November, 2008. It will center on day-by-day writing plus a few excerpts from my novel-in-progress. Maybe 10% of postings will ramble off into other topics.

Why a blog on top of daily pages of novel to write? This is a way to let some "I-ness" out in the midst of so much "they-ness" writing in the characters' voices. If my Inner Editor gets too restless pacing in its month-long cage, it can exercise on a very short leash here.

Here are my rules for November: this blog is a place for honest observation and reflection. Like, or don't like what YT writes? Feel free to comment, all considered opinions are welcome. I'll write about other WriMos here, and in return expect to be fair game.

As for the noveling experience, well, other entries can wax philosophical or turn practical. See the "three rules" posts, for instance, where the three rules seem to change from year to year.

So. Here we go... enjoy November! Yours Truly must surely enjoy it, since this is the fifth noveling November in a row for your enthusiastic Brico.

NaNoWriMo Begins

Off to a slow start, YT spent some time today to get organized. Decamping to the write-in at the Troy Public Library helped. YT is still not sure how to really get this novel off the ground, but he has a few scenes sketched out. Maybe that will be enough.

NOVEL TITLE: Twenty Three Slow

SYNOPSIS: Many city dwellers have given up owning private cars. They hire electric vehicles by the hour. When these rental cars begin stopping at random during rush hours, an engineer on the fringe of the industry searches for the reason why.

Now, to get into the flow of words...

Word Count after most of 1 day: 1,089

Taking Stock

Now it can be revealed... 2008 is YT's lucky year. Lost a job last Christmas, but with a decent severance, got a better job by the end of January. Not bad, but by May had an even better job, and they called YT. So now YT is off determining the future of the driving public.

Well, maybe not so grand a role in automotive culture, but YT is delighted to find there are decent employers in the auto industry. There's more, though. On September 13 YT had a heart attack. Half an hour from onset, the doctors were poking holes in convenient places, and soon after, YT had three stents in his chest and a new lease on life. Tomorrow is round two, more blockages to be cleared, more metal to go into YT's chest via the femoral artery.

That comment from mid-November last year about napping and zoning out in front of the TV, that should have been a clue. Now, the weight's going down, YT feels rested, many things are changing. All this and a good plot for NaNoWrimo... Gentle Readers, you might not believe this, but life is good this year, and about damn time.

Kickoff Party!

Well, sixteen people showed up for the Detroit kickoff party yesterday. The scary thing is, YT remembers most of them from previous years. So this year it was the hard core partying, a full six days before the start of NaNoWriMo 2008.

Lots of enthusiasm comes through on the forum, and certainly came through in person. The timing is odd this year, with the kickoff so early. Good news, though, November has five weekends.

Six Throwaway Novel Ideas

With a full season to go before NaNoWriMo, YT has been thinking of ideas for this year's novel. A good idea, expressed in a couple of sentences, can become the kernel of a good plot. Here are six of them that didn't make the cut, most in the science fiction genre. Faithful Readers, fellow WriMos, use 'em or laugh at 'em, your choice.

1. Because the code of public manners has become so strict, some people wear masks in public. Each mask shows the wearer's image, but is animated by a computer "agent" to mimic the wearer's personality. Inside the masks, people can think their private thoughts without fear of their faces betraying them, but the price is permanent divided attention.

2. In a world with teleportation machines, jumping to random, underused destinations is the cheap way to get a vacation. This is similar to last-minute airline ticket sales today. Then something goes wrong, and people disappear...

3. A man kills a rich man's automaton "double," then gets charged with murder. The charge is that the rich man lived more in the automaton than in his original body.

4. A man kills a business associate so the associate's heir will end up with a larger share of the business than him, and thus will take his place at the end of a list of suspects in a fraud investigation.

5. A guy steals an extremely rare bottle of champagne from a restaurant, then tries to sell it. A comedy of errors.

6. A man time-travels forward 80 years and cannot figure out how to get back. He sees the political situation as ripe for change toward his turn of the century neoconservative views, and to his advantage.

YT has stumbled upon a serendipitous combination of tech news and business trends... The leading contender for his 2008 NaNoWriMo novel is a mystery where the crime is committed with - wait for it - car electronics.

Noveling? What Noveling?

Hmm, it's a long way from December, yet YT has written nothing new in his blog. Funny thing, writing month starts with a bang, finishes in a rush, and three days later, everyone puts away their wild inner novelist for about 10.5 months. Same here.

So: how did it all end, Brico?

Well, friends and faithful readers, YT skipped several inner chapters, you know, the relationship stuff, and got right to the denouement and its aftermath. Mysterious types skulking about, fire, romance, narrow escapes! Ironic epilogue! 50,000 words with hours to spare!

If YT's first year effort was a third of a novel in 50K words, this one might have been half of a novel. It gets easier with practice, and some forethought, just a wee bit of scheming before November 1 and a few minutes of planning each day during the month.

The urge to drop the novel cold in early December has proved irresistible again, though.

YT has given some thought to more work on his third year novel, Drunkard's Leap. The universe it's set in has a few more wrinkles, the third act is stronger, though still not strong enough, and YT has noodled with an "origins" story set decades before. There may yet be some good thing coming out of the concept.

Finished!

With much encouragement (ouch! that whip stings!) from the redoubtable Tiffany, welcome distractions from fellow WriMos G, M and K, plus a good bit of Irish coffee, YT has finished his novel for the second time in four years. Long live NaNoWriMo! More excerpts after this novelist, emptied for a while of words, catches up on his sleep.

Word count after 30 days: 50,735

Thundering down the home stretch

Writing still goes in fits and starts. YT will have a 500 word day followed by a 4,000 word rush. It turns out to be no problem at all writing a thousand-word scene when in the flow. YT gave 12,000 words to the tumultuous weekend when Ron and Tamara go too far, too fast. Yes, your humble author has followed his own rule and written a sex scene when blissfully not on deadline. Well, there's a little sex and a lot of sensual impressions, followed by the traditional morning after breakfast of omelets (him), biscuits (her) and second thoughts (both).

Next scene is probably where Ron and Tamara see each other on Tuesday, after a lost Saturday, tense breakfast Sunday and make-up phone call Sunday night. YT has no idea what they'll say. At least that's the plan -- YT has pumped up the word count by writing scenes out of order, and damn the plot holes! Excerpts from this, uh, fine artistic flow will be forthcoming in the blog.

A note on word count. The number below is the "official" count from the NaNoWriMo web site. yWriter is more optimistic by about sixty words. Weird. Microsoft Word give the author about twenty more words than the official number. It's hard to say what would cause this, but YT will use caution and go over the finish line with a few hundred words to spare, just in case.

Word count after 27 days: 43,207

Novel Excerpt, Chapter 5

Excerpt from Grand Theft Cambridge, Chapter 5. Ron Russo's employer sends everyone home on the first really nice Friday afternoon in April. Ron is sitting at an outdoor cafe table off Kenmore Square, enjoying the day, when a lithe, attractive woman walks up. With a little reminder, he realizes she is Martha Soares, a stripper from the Pussycat Club. The club doubles as venture capital meeting room for Silvio Carlini, whom Ron is advising on the side. Martha was to have delivered Ron's "bonus" at the club, which Ron turned into a thoughtful favor after a few confusing moments. Now Martha demands a real-life favor from him.

Martha said, "Oh, I'll order for myself. You're going to return a favor, though."

Ron was surprised again. "I don't understand. Weren't we even back at the club?"

The waitress, sensing a lover's quarrel, took Martha's order with alacrity.

"Oh, you are so naive, Ron. I couldn't take your gift any more than I could stuff your card in my pocket. The rule is customers don't touch, though possibly I wouldn't have minded you. It also means cash business only, no favors, no gifts. Silvio or even Helen would have fired me for getting involved. I know you didn't mean anything but good. That was a nice gift, but one I couldn't take. I've gotta tell you, I have been real tempted to call your office number since I realized you wouldn't be doing regular business with Silvio. But this means we are just two friends who happened to meet on the street."

"Oh. Wow. I don't know where to start. I'm sorry if I got you into trouble."

"No, you didn't because I stuffed your card in my bag, then went back and laughed about you with Helen."

"Ouch. But nothing came of it?"

"Well, I think some of the dancers were talking about the wimp techie who came in, and trying to figure out how to make easy money off of guys like you."

"So, you're right. I owe you at least a coffee, and maybe dinner."

"No, that was a sweet gesture you made. Giving something to me, not taking. But remember the thing I did give you."

"Well, I have to say I liked you leaning into me back then."

"No, dummy. My real name. That probably would get me fired. I know I look different in civilian clothes, but still..."

Ron looked around with worry. "Uh, you're not in danger now, are you?"

Martha laughed hard enough to draw attention. "You are so out of it! Look, none of the letches coming down from the neighborhoods or even the good suburbs are going to be down here today. And the frat boys that find their way out to Revere aren't going to recognize me dressed. So, no, like I said, we're just two friends talking without a care in the world."

"Okay, especially today." Ron swept his arm toward the sky.

"Yeah, it is a nice day to be walking around down here. But the thing is, I gave you the gift of my name. That's a huge no-no. Look, how do we tell someone's not a stalker, or thinks what I do is real?"

"It looks real enough."

"Liar. I know who was out there with all you tech boys. I know I do it better then Shera -- I mean, Char -- uh, let's just say the other one. But it's not real to anyone not hooked on fantasy before he even comes in the door. So, anyway, you know a secret, and you're clueless enough to maybe, possibly cause me a little danger. So I want something back from you."

"Uh, Mr. Clueless can hardly imagine what. But I'm game, and I'll honor my debt."

"Okay, then. I would like a favor. Look, out of high school I've worked fast food, then bartending, then a year of, uh, dancing." With wholesome college students on every side, Martha dropped her voice at her latest job. "So I could clean up for a few years. I've already put away $14,000 out of my tips." Ron whistled at that number. Martha said, "Yeah, I know what I'm doing. But, Jesus, it's not real. It's fantasyland on and off the stage, and in the back rooms, and I'd give up a lot to have conversations with normal people like you every day."

"You called me normal. That's an improvement."

"Shut up. So, anyway, I'm not dumb. I can read the Globe want ads. Tech is going crazy right now. And they can't possibly be a hundred percent wizards like you. So I want your help getting a job in tech. Electronics. Software. Internet. Biotech. There have to be hourly jobs you don't need a PhD for."

"Well, high school diploma... I'll be honest, just guessing what you make from what you've put away, the money would be a big step down."

"I live in a three-room apartment that's clean only because my Korean landlord won't let it go to hell. I live clean and I don't spend my money on crap. My damn cousins gave me furniture because my family doesn't want to know about my life. So having money is only a little part of the picture."

"Well, okay, what can I do for you?"

The waitress, still sensing a quarrel, set a large cafe au lait in front of Martha, then hurried away.

Martha said, "Well, you're clueless about my world. I'm not into yours at all, and I want to learn."

Ron said, "All right."

"And the real favor is, I want you to get me in to talk with a couple of people. Not get me a job, but get me to where I can get a shot at a job."

"Well..." Ron thought about it. "Seems to me the problem breaks down into three parts. You need to look and act the right way, one. Two, you need to know what jobs you might be good at. And three, you need to get in the door somewhere."

"Do you do this kind of thing all the time?"

"When I heard this quote, 'Every engineer looks at life as a series of problems to be solved,' that was a lightbulb moment. Yeah, I do. That's part of who I am."

"So you're saying I need to do more than just try my luck."