We had prompt night on Tuesday at Write On, and I usually
like posting those here, I just haven’t had a chance until now. Unlike other
times where I’ve spewed forth the first fiction idea that comes to mind, this prompt
was more directed.
The prompt: Five Short-Term Goals to finish by the end of
the year.
Some of my compatriots worked of other prompts provided and
were much cleverer than me. I stuck to a straightforward approach and jotted
down a sentence or two for each goal. I have expanded here to provide further
detail. Since we usually write for an hour, I worked a little on what I think
we’ll be Goal No. 4. I will share a paragraph or two of that after the goals.
My writing goals for the rest of the year:
- Get story archive finished and
files organized. This way I know what I’ve wrote, what genres, how many words,
where I have them saved, etc. Determine which stories need more work, are ready
to publish, and establish themes between stories for possible collection. I have
started an archive including one detailing the 25 stories I’ve produced for NYC
Midnight. It’s an Excel spreadsheet (somewhere Jodi is laughing). I still must
go through files on my hard drive to find other stories. My sense I have around
50 short stories lingering about in various states of completion, and not counting
other things that I just started and never completed. That list is even longer.
I just need to be organized and have some sort of system.
- Write four new poems. – Just to
practice using impactful words and play with rhythm of language. I am a bad
poet, but it’s a good exercise and sometimes a bigger idea came come from them.
Besides, it’s important in writing and life to delve into the uncomfortable every
now and again.
- Submit stories to at least 10
publications a month. Hopefully get one yes by the end of the year. So, I don’t
get to 10 every month, but I usually do submit to about 4 to 6 places a month. Story
submission is an arduous process, so it tends to be a matter of taking time to
read research places and read guidelines. Getting accepted is always a crapshoot.
- Start a longer work whether for
NANWRIMO or just on my own. Goal – 50,000 words by Jan. 1. I hear the Sterling
library is providing support for NANOWRIMO this year. I’d like to participate,
but not sure I want to commit to 50,000 words in a month. It’s such a lot of
pressure, plus last time I did it, I felt overwhelmed by the thought of revising
what I had with so many words already in place. I think stretching this out
over 4 months might be more effective.
- Research editors and/or beta
readers for “Get a Life,” 50,000-word plus collection I’ve sat on for two
years. So, I shared the first part of this story on this blog – I believe it was
one of the first posts. I’ve sat on the complete set of stories for the last
two years after backing out of contract with a place I wasn’t getting good
vibes about. Now, I can put it back on the market, but I think I want a new
approach, possibly hiring an editor to dig down to possible issues with the
overall text. I think that could be an informative process.
So, those are the goals. As I said, I spent the rest of the
time the other night working on piece. I’ve always wanted to write some sort of
apocalyptic western in the vein of The Dark Tower series. I slowly conceiving
something that might have that sort of hero’s quest mixed with the ambiguity of
Game of Thrones. I don’t pretend it will turn out to be anything nearly as good
as either of those, but I prefer to shoot big and miss than shoot low and reach
my goal. We’ll see where this goes. Here’s what I have so far.
Cago Junction
The skyline of Cago Junction jutted from the sparse
landscape at dusk, its ragged congregation of structures forming a broken spine
of silhouettes against the setting sun. Rusted rail lines approached from each
direction, the wooden ties rotted and buried in the dust and weeds. The echoes
of the locomotives chugging along the steel was lost to time along with the honks
of automobile horns, the hum of computers and most of the other buzzes, blips,
and booms of technology. The remaining sounds were created by the wind or
insects or beasts. Sounds like the clop of hooves, such as the clops approaching
Cago Junction from the southeast, clops made by two quarter horses, one the
color of a dust cloud with sprinkles of gray snow and the other ash with
splotches of white near the hooves and on its hind quarters.
On the backs of the
two horses were Peacemakers, wearing dark brimmed hats, loose-fitting cotton
tops, brown denim slacks, burgundy sashes that cut across from the left
shoulder to the right, and the heavy irons with sandalwood grips drooping
slightly from their hips. Extra shells were kept in loops along their belts,
and their well-worn boots came to golden points at the toes. Behind them was
the whole of XXXX (I don’t have a name for this yet) Barony, ahead was Cago
Junction, the last human outpost along the northwest territory. Beyond Cago Junction was bad lands, a jagged collection
of exposed stone and cavernous valleys, so barren that life would be more
suited on the surface of the moon, at least according the last round of surveys
taken a hundred years back. The Peacemakers were on their way to Cago to get
sense from the locals on if the bad lands, were still, in fact, bad.
“Maybe there’ll be some real men out there,” Myra turned her
head from her position in the lead. Her brown eyes and brown skin were made for
the intense sun. Oan’s face was burnt red, his complexion made for caves rather
than the open plains.
