Long Black Train

Has it really been over a month since my last post?

Oh my, it has.

Well, I'm still not finished with the first draft of my novel. I was bound and determined to finish it by the end of September, but that's not gonna happen. It just seems when I get bound and determined about something, I tend remain more bound and not get anything done. Well, if you want to know, I've been making slow, but excellent progress on the novel. It's really turning out to be all that I wanted it to be and more. I also wrote a rough draft to a long short story that is currently titled "Two Baby", though I don't know if that will be the title when all is said and done. It's one of those stories that I thought would be about ten or fifteen pages long and turned into fifty plus pages. I even left some things out that will need to be added in. I think novella is a better word for what I wrote. Or novelette. I can't remember the delineations. I hope everyone is still doing okay. Perhaps I'll try to post a little more often. I won't make any promises. I'll definitely let you know the day I finish the rough draft of said novel. Then begins the long and grueling process of research and rewrite. And yes, I will have to do loads and loads of research. I'm one of those people that doesn't like to think that I've gotten any part of it wrong. Opinions are opinions, but the facts must be as accurate as possible. Until then, just keep on doing what you do. Because you do it so well.

Blog Bots

Yes it was inevitable that the same people that have brought us mountains of spam in our junk mail boxes and Chat Bots that flash their messages of low mortgage rates or hot sexy girls live on webcam in various chat rooms have infiltrated the blogosphere. If you'll notice in the comments on my last post, I got two comments from the same bot boasting about two different blogs. And I've also noticed that when I click the next blog link, checking out random blogs, more than half of them are for loan companies or insurance companies or porn sites. I knew it was only a matter of time before the once crystal clear blogging waters would get dirtied.

I apologize for teasing you, but I don't see that story happening any time soon. I'm determined to get through the first draft of my novel by the end of September. If things go like they've been going, it will be about 500 or so double spaced pages. If that ends up being the truth, then I'm only halfway there. That's seven weeks roughly to crank out another 250 pages. That's about 36 pages a week. That's 5 pages a day, if I deign to write on Sundays. 6 pages a day otherwise. I've already written twelve pages this morning, and on a normal day if I get after things, I can easily whip out 5 or more pages. The key is not lounging around and then suddenly getting busy an hour or less before I have to head to work. But the wonderful thing is that the story is falling into place and the ending is not just a possibility, but a mounting inevitability. A big, slow train that is gaining speed and not likely to stop until it has reached its destination. Hallelujah! Praise the Lord! Can you say Amen!

But is it a good story? That's the all important question. The answer is, I don't know. I never know if what I write is any good or not. I need others to tell me that, and even then I still don't believe them. Not that they're lying but perhaps guarding my feelings. Well, my feelings don't need to be guarded anymore. I say slap me in the face if it will make things better. Anyways, I better get back to work. I just thought I should check in and apologize once again.

Maybe next weekend

This weekend didn't go entirely according to plan. So I didn't get that story wrote. I'm still thinking about it, though. My parents adopted a kid. He isn't officially adopted yet, but he's staying here anyways. They still have to sign papers and a lawyer gets involved in there somewhere. So I spent the time I would have spent writing it moving things around and helping get the guest bedroom situated for him and all that stuff. I did do a ton of writing Friday night/Saturday morning, but it was all on my novel. I'm glad to be writing on my novel again. I truly am. I don't know why I stopped for so long. Maybe I just needed the time to regroup. I don't know. Anyways, um...how about Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card. That one should keep you busy for a little while. I really like that book. I read it twice. The whole Ender Quartet is really good, and so is the Ender's Shadow series. I'm working my way through the last book in that one as we speak. Or any one of James Clavelle's doorstoppers, though I've never read them. They're really long, so they should keep you busy for a goodish while.

When the thick, black clouds part for the shining Son

Sorry, there's been a bit o' delay on the story I intended to post. I'll blame it on the creative ebb and flow of my mind. I was just so inspired when I wrote that last post that I thought I would hop on over to my other computer - my writing computer - and whip it out. I did not, however. And furthermore I've been caught up by my novel once again, so all indications point to next weekend when there won't be any birthday parties to attend nor a lawn to mow. I apologize to those anticipating this future tale. May I suggest you read Ron McLarty's The Memory of Running. There's a few too many curse words in some scenes (one is too many in my opinion), but it's not blatant. It's all character in other words. But the tale is so inspiring. It's one of those I'll want to pick up from time to time just to make me feel better. And it just feels so honest. It kind of wanes at the end, but let's not get all caught up with endings. Haven't I discussed this book on this blog before? Oh well, it's worth a second discussion. If you've already read that book, how about Richard Adams's Watership Down, or Stephen King's The Eyes of the Dragon - it's his cleanest and possibly best novel. Or pick up any copy of The Sun - the literary magazine, not the tabloid. I'm sorry to disappoint my legions of fans in this way, but those suggestions should suffice to get you by until the week has passed.

The Bridge

How about another story, huh? How about that? It shall be called "Upon the Bridge We Meet". I plan to write it this weekend. My hope is that it will be shorter than "Grazing the Dead", but I make no guarantees. I just got the idea for it as I was driving home from work not thirty minutes ago, so I don't know how the story might grow before I get it down on paper. And further more, this story will be written with an English accent. I don't know what region of England, so just read it with whatever your idea of an English accent is. The purpose of posting this story is to introduce you to an entirely different aspect of my writing. I don't know what that aspect is, precisely, but if you read "Grazing the Dead", you will notice that this story sounds completely different. However, those fundamental elements of my style will still be present. I hope you notice that, too.

Diosa de Espana

'Twas a brilliant morning.

Felt like Autumn.

I can't wait.

Grazing the Dead - Part VII

copyright 2005 by Blake Lamar

“You alright, son,” Jim said, helping him to his feet. “That’s a bad bump.”

“I’m fine,” Benjamin said. “I’ll be fine.”

“I knew this was bound to happen sooner or later, teasing them cows like that with all this good grass. I told the office people to have them put a barbwire fence around this place when Mr. Reynolds started grazing this field out. A barbwire fence with maybe some hotwire running top and bottom. But, no. They said it was too gruesome in a place where kids might be, as if a cemetery aint already gruesome to a kid that aint old enough or smart enough not to be touching hotwire.”

He sat Benjamin into the cab of the truck and walked around to the other side. He continued to honk his horn as he drove over the fallen down part of the fence and on into the pasture.

“I been keeping a bag of cubes in the back for just this occasion,” he said. “That’ll keep em busy enough while I get that fence back up. You sure you don’t want me to run you home real quick. Let your momma have a look at that bump. I doubt the clinic’s still open.”

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “Just hurts a little is all.”

“Man, you really had a strangle hold on that baby calf,” Jim said. “Getting ready for the junior rodeo, I reckon.”

“I don’t rodeo.”

“I didn’t think so. Cemetery’s no place to be practicing your skills no how. And those calves they have you chase down are a might bigger than the one you was wrestling.”

“I wasn’t wrestling it.”

“Then what was you doing? If you wasn’t trying to take it down, you was being a might friendly. You wasn’t trying to rustle it was you? Tie it up in your backyard for a little while, waiting on some veal.”

Benjamin didn’t say anything.

“But you sure ticked momma off. Lucky a little bump on the head is all you came away with. Cows is docile mostly, but you go messing with their babies and they can be just as mean as anything. It’s a wonder that calf let you get so close. They’s usually skittisher’n a man with a million dollars sticking out his pockets.”

“I don’t know,” Benjamin said. “He just came up to me.”

“Maybe you just one of those people that’s got a way with animals,” he said. “A whisperer, like on that movie. You the cow whisperer or something. Oh, man, that’s a good one.”

Benjamin started laughing. It was the first time he’d felt good in a week. And his stomach let out a loud rumble to match his laughter.

He was hungry.

He was so hungry.



THE END