2.71: On Writing the Novel

I am writing a new novel. Part of the point of the process is to let myself go and explore creating something guided completely by its own momentum. The difficult part of that is not getting bogged down in exacts. I’ve gotten to a point where I’m digging into a character’s main quest and I really don’t have a lot there that feels as epic fantasy as I was hoping and doesn’t entirely make a lot of sense. Still, there is good in that. I recognize what is necessary for character growth and what is pure MacGuffin–a stand in item or plot device put there just to push the plot forward. The one true ring in Lord of the Rings is a MacGuffin.

I’m putting my pen where my mouth is on this one. All of the lessons I teach in class over a given week are modeled through the book. In fact, this is likely going to be the basis of my sabbatical–not this particular book, but the creation of a semester long website that details daily assignments, prompts, etc. on how to create a book in a semester. I think I’ll call it the 16 Week Novel–Until something better comes along.

Some Thoughts:

  1. Missed opening night of football and it was epic. Patriots got thumped to the tune of 42 points allowed. There’s more to that. Eric Berry is probably done for the season, so the Chiefs are about to feel the burn too.
  2. Had a dream about playing football again. I was out of shape and slow. I think it was reflective of watching my son run in the football practice and realizing where his speed tops out and being a bit disappointed that he isn’t faster–which somehow feels like a failure on my part.
  3. Cats are cool, but Dogs….

2.70: Elric (Freewrite)

It is said that those who roam the Broken Sea are madmen. The squalls and storms can rise up at any moment and there are always whispers of a more malevolent nature, of ships cutting through the waters bearing flags of nations long since forgotten. Ships that, under a cloak of fog, vanish from sight to never be seen again. There is talk of creatures larger and longer than the bowsprit of Wynspurlan War Galleons with fat rubbery tentacles that can crush a man completely. For a man to be a sailor in this stretch of water is madness, but for a man to fish is quite far beyond reason.

Elric of Adon captained a small scut he titled Windsplitter. She was a sea worthy vessel, cut from the heartwood of an oak his great great great grandfather planted on their farm some three hundred stones ago in the time of Calleon. Elric spent two nights chopping down that tree. The sound of his blows carried through the thin air and rose like a warble to the village at the base of the beach. Each morning he would leave his retreating lands to find rope and tar and tether all to help him with his quest. He was not a fisherman. He came from hard earth and tilled corn and wheat well past his twenty seventh stone.

When the drought fell, he knew his farm wouldn’t recover and he turned to the great oak. He turned to the Broken Sea.