NanoWriMo – Update

We are just over halfway through November and I’m still hacking away at my NanoWriMo novel. It has been a lot more difficult than I expected, for the simple fact that I’m not really invested in what I’m doing. As such, it has been slow and steady progress where I have not been able to get ahead.

I really have no idea what I’m creating at this stage. I’m 30k+ words into it and feel like I haven’t even scratched the surface of the story I want to tell. I’m also not 100% sure exactly what that story is at this stage. I’m pretty much just writing to a loose plan and hoping that it ends up somewhere interesting.

It is an interesting process and I am getting more into it as I go alone, but it is also quite terrifying. One thing is for sure, it will not be a 50k and done type of work. I’m thinking it may be 150k+ words before I’m done and dusted this time around which is a very different place to be.

For now, I’ve got another 1666 words to write tomorrow and I’m just hanging in there. Good luck to all those still hacking away, the end is drawing closer and we’ll all get there together.

Amazon Australia Kindle Ebooks

I received an email from Amazon this morning stating that my books were now available on Amazon Australia.

Being Hamish https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00E0NVLI8
When God Gets Bored https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B00AA32BM2

Good news right? Well it should be, but I was a bit disappointed to see that they were priced at $3.99 not the usual $2.99 minimum.

Why the extra $1? Well no particularly good reason that I can see. To make matters worse, you can’t set a price below $3.99 for the region, which seems particularly troublesome. So whilst it is nice to get an Australian store-front, it isn’t something I’d recommend using until they put in flexibility with the pricing.

I’ve contacted Amazon but I doubt I’ll get much of a reply, let alone a change in policy. Whilst it is nice to have books auto-delivered to the kindle app, for now, the best option is still smashwords where you can pay nothing at all:

Being Hamish (pay what you want) https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/337925
When Got Gets Bored (pay what you want) https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/255287

National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) – Kick Off

Well that snuck up didn’t it? Here I was just a little while ago getting ready for it and here I am having done very little to prepare. In just under 3 hours I’m supposed to be writing 50k words. I don’t even have a title.

Still, I think I’ll manage. I’ve thrown my original plan out the window and I’m now going to expand on O2, a short story I wrote some time ago. I’ve got an outline in my head of where I want it to go, so there is nothing else to do but start writing and see what happens.

The challenge (besides the writing bit!) is that it is a serious and somewhat dark novel in tone. This time I can’t just get away with putting a chicken in a helicopter, which is a problem for such a tight deadline. I’m going to have to write emotion, torture and death. I don’t know if I have that ability but it’ll be fun to find out.

Good luck to everybody taking part. It is an adventure, it is a challenge. I’ll see you all on the other side.

Being Hamish – Smashwords Edition

Being Hamish is now available on Smashwords as well as Amazon. You can pick it up from under the “pay what you want” model at:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/337925

This will also push it out to other services such as Itunes in about a week.

Whilst I liked the promotion option on Kindle Direct Publishing…it really isn’t worth the exclusivity to go for another period.

Being Hamish – Promo Results

So the six day promotion has come and gone and the results are in. As posted earlier, this was all a bit of an experiment to try out Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) and also Facebook’s ads.

The method was to give away “Being Hamish” for free for 5 days as part of the KDP program. Besides this blog and twitter, I decided to run a small facebook advertisement to celebrate the fact. The aim was to drive people to give the book a go and to hopefully enjoy it.

Here is the result of the campaign:

As you can see, a tick under 50k impressions resulting in 56 clicks. In total, I had 59 people take advantage of the promo to grab the book. It is worth sharing that this facebook advertising cost me about $19 for the run of the campaign. It isn’t nothing, but it was certainly low enough cost not to worry about the result at all.

Is 59 downloads a success? Well it is all relative. I had hoped for more, but I’m ultimately satisfied with the result and the lessons learnt. More importantly will any of those people read and enjoy the book? I most certainly hope so but it is impossible to tell. How does it compare to other ebooks on the market? Well of note this broke Being Hamish into the top 100 for “Coming of Age” novels. In fact it peaked around position 57 on the charts, which isn’t too bad at all.

Look out..umm Charles Dickens. I’m coming for you.

Would I do it again? I doubt it at this stage. Whilst the method used above has been proven as somewhat viable, I don’t believe it is necessarily worth it. A better test would be to see how many people would have “paid” after being presented with the advertisement and I suspect not a lot. Additionally the way the ads work is you compete for positioning based on how much you will “pay” when somebody finally clicks it. You can control this process well, but it does mean you could be spending a large sum on something that just isn’t going to earn a return.

Still, it was a fun exercise and I enjoyed seeing the clicks come in and spreading the good word a little. It was all relatively painless and quick to set up via paypal (with easy to set spending limits etc) so if you ever wondered if you should try it as well? I’d say give it a go.

National Novel Writing Month (NanoWriMo) 2013

It is almost November again and that means it is NanoWriMo time once more. Because I enjoyed it so much last year I’m planning on getting back into the saddle and seeing what I can churn out. In 2012 I worked on “When God Gets Bored” and finished the 50k words inside 10 days. It’ll be a bit different this time judging by my work since then and I may even struggle to get the quota in.

But I’ll try.

On that note, I’m planning to write “Just Walk Forward”. This will be thematically similar to “Being Hamish” in that it will involve the life and trials of a young adult. This time instead of searching for aliens and trying to understand love, he’ll be trying to piece things together through one of my own passions, fighting games.

What I want to do is explore this world a little through my characters and hopefully shed some light on what makes the fighting game community so special. It has probably been done before and better than I’ll be able to do. But that doesn’t matter, the plan is there, the paper is ready and I’m keen to get stuck into it. I think I’ll be able to spin a pretty decent story.

Are you going to take the plunge and commit to a novel? If you are on the fence, make sure you at least sign up and start writing some words on the first of the month. You’ll never quite know where it will take you.

Add TheToddHunter at http://nanowrimo.org/participants/thetoddhunter/novels on NanoWriMo and we can cheer each other on.

Being Hamish – Being Free Promotion

As part of the adventure of Kindle Direct Publishing, it is time to try out their promotions. In particular this means that Being Hamish will be free on Amazon until the 6th of October.

As an experiment, I’m going to try a bit of facebook advertising to try to pick up one or two readers. It is all a learning experience at this stage, but hopefully it goes well enough. I’ve decided not to push anything through to the news feed, because that is something I personally hate to see. If people don’t block the ads, they’ll be there and somebody might click along.

So if you have a few kb spare on your device of choice, please feel free to check it out at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00E0NVLI8 and help to spread the word.

Down Again – Short Story Writing Challenge

A short, short story this week focusing on the theme of “desperation” with a secondary challenge to keep the entire story in one setting. I think I’ve got those two themes pretty well down this time.

This story is more along my usual style, which is to say pretty light hearted despite the absurdity of the situation. I can’t help but enjoy writing something like this and the word limit of 1000 is probably ideal for keeping me from running away with it too much.

Please enjoy: (PDF Version)

Down Again
By Toddhunter

   His eyes blinked open to be greeted by complete darkness. At least from where he lay he thought it was dark, he repeated the eye opening process several times to make certain.
The result stayed the same which wasn’t promising. It seemed everything was just black around him. Realisation hit home like a tonne of bricks being thrown from the top of a skyscraper already falling on top of him.
   “Oh fuck me,” he shouted out to nobody in particular, but the sound didn’t get more than a few inches away from his mouth. This presented a problem that was going to be an all-consuming issue for the next short period of his life.
   It seemed like it was going to be another one of those days.
   There was no doubt he was trapped in a space that just gave his arms and legs little room to move. Encasing him was the distinct feel of stressed wooden boards threatening to splinter into his. A fine sprinkle of what must be dirt trickled down onto his forehead, making him itch like crazy.
This would be a standard recipe for extreme panic or a sudden mental breakdown. Not for him though, having been through this experience. In fact it was last week, a terrifying ordeal spent inside a wooden box buried somewhere deep within the Earth’s loving embrace.
   It had been a painful experience. Literally, his fingers still hadn’t healed from the desperate scratching at the lid of the improvised coffin. That action didn’t help him during that experience and he knew it wouldn’t help now. As if in response to the thought, his fingers ached in agreement at the fresh memory of exposing his insides to the blood slicked boards.
   Instead he tried to stay calm as he mastered his breathing. A difficult task given the remaining number of breaths was demoralising low but he somehow managed. Experience was going to be the key to survival here, there had to be a way to emerge alive. If anything, he looked forward to the pure euphoria of the moment of escape. To be still alive was something that made you feel … well alive, which made perfect sense.
   But he wasn’t to that sweet point yet and the clock was always ticking.
   Since the events of last week he always made sure to keep a mobile phone with him. He also made sure he never let the battery charge fall below eighty percent. Given the short amount of time since making that resolution, it hadn’t been hard to stick to the diligence.
   A hint of panic formed at the nape of his neck as he considered the possibility that the assailants had taken it away. He pushed it down as best as he could, because it wasn’t going to help him get the needed steps done.
   The nerve endings in his thigh stretched out to detect if the device was still there, acting as a timid scouting party for his shaking arm. The news was positive, reporting the presence of something there of around the right shape.
   He reached out in earnest anticipation and indeed it was his phone. Life, hope, things were looking up.
   He brought it to his face and narrowed his eyes with an experienced burst of inspiration as he turned on the screen and flooded the tiny tomb with light. The news got better; it had battery left, an ample charge.
   He didn’t have much air and he couldn’t move, but he had his phone, with its near full battery and a bit of light. The sight around him wasn’t an impressive one, confirming his deepest and darkest fears about his hopeless location. But it was always nice to know for sure.
   There had to be a catch. There was. Plot twist, he had no reception. He saw none of those precious little bars that represented his escape.
   The panic he had pushed away got the all clear to return and go to town across the rest of his body. To chill his veins further, something chose that exact moment to crawl along his leg. Wild thrashing followed by a craned neck and the pointing of the screen showed a tiny centipede checking things out. With furious concentration he tried to turn it into a pink elephant.    If that effort of dream control worked he was golden. But it didn’t, he was fucked.
   Again he resisted the urge to scratch in desperation because some things were worse than death. But in the end he did it anyway; screaming at the nerve endings being scraped off onto the roof. As suspected, it didn’t help his situation and just resulted in pouring in more dirt. Because of this assault he scratched even harder. Then he struck bone.
   He stopped, calmed, or he might have blacked out from the pain. Regardless, the agony meant that death didn’t appear to be so bad. As the lingering pain throbbed through him it did leave him at a bit of a loose end. He was going to die, that seemed certain, but he didn’t know how best to fill the remaining time.
   His phone seemed like a good diversion to help run down the clock. There was still no reception, not even an ironic ‘SOS only’. But he did notice a new message had been downloaded before the burial out of range.
   His breath laboured in the dust filled tomb but in a stroke of luck he discovered that the message was short.

   I should have just given him a job, he reflected as he gagged on a large clump of dirt. He wasn’t that annoying. Oh well, he thought, you live and you learn. Well at least for a few seconds.

For those wondering who that is… it is kind of a long gaming related story. Just insert whatever wacky celebrity you like for the right effect.

O2 – Creative Writing Challenge

This time, the main theme is “reunited” with a secondary theme of showing a glimpse of the past and future. I’ve met those themes quite literally, showing a family reunion of sorts whilst also addressing the past. To be different (and creative!) I’ve wrapped that up in a future world where the air is no longer breathable. As you’ll see, it doesn’t necessarily work out well.

This is an idea I’m keen to explore further on down the track, so I thought this would be a good way to wet my feet in it. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out even if it can still be enhanced a great deal in a longer context.

Please enjoy:

O2
By Toddhunter

    The sun was shining strong and bright through the green trees, casting a dancing pattern on the ground from the gentle wind. The forest seemed calm, with everything being in its proper place. There were some small birds around; Anna could hear them as they sung to each other in the branches. Somewhere nearby echoed the sound of rushing water cascading over rocks and fallen branches. That river is where she wanted to be.
    It wasn’t easy to make progress towards it due to the thick undergrowth. She had to push her way through where it seemed to be at its lightest, making for each small clearing as it was discovered. Time didn’t seem to be flowing as she made each step in a determined manner, but the ever increasing sound of the water ahead kept her making progress.
    A larger clearing gave her an opportunity to pause and catch her breath. She felt fit for her age, but this was still hard work for her tired body. As she stood considering the situation, she placed her hands near her hips for balance and rocked back and forth for a while amidst the orange leaves. Satisfied with her determined course of action, she tested out her legs to see if they were ready to return to the arduous task.
    As if in confusion about why she had paused, a solitary yellow bird flapped across her line of sight and settled down with a sense of ceremony in front of her. The bright coloured bird considered her for a while, cocking its head first one way and then another as if it didn’t trust what each eye saw. Somehow approving, the bird took to the air with a sudden flutter of its wings, leaving behind one brilliant feather in the scattered dirt.
    For a moment, Anna stopped and pondered picking up the discarded plumage. Even from her height above she could see the perfection and wondered if it would be just right for … Shaking her head she tore her eyes away and started to move. The sound of the rushing deep blue water called to her; the tumultuous song urging her onward to where she needed to be.
Anna scraped through the bushes, not caring as the purple thorns ripped away tiny shreds from her arms. Nor did she concern herself with the noise of her stumbling through the tangle of branches. She had visited this same place many times before and knew that the real danger wouldn’t be found here.
    There were no birds anymore, not here or anywhere else. Often it seemed hard to realise the full extent of what she experienced, but the fake birds always showed the truth. In that moment of clarity amidst the constant bombardment of her senses, she accepted she was dreaming. It meant none of the trees or bushes or the river rushing somewhere ahead of her where real.
Anna was dreaming and she knew being caught in dreams could be dangerous. But just like every other time, she didn’t want to leave in case she was here.
    As she emerged from the clustered brambles, her arms now mimicking the river with their own droplets of thick red blood, she came to a halt. It was different every time she had been here but even so she felt surprised. The empty riverside scene faded away in front of her as the water melted into an inky darkness and the sounds of the forest around her drew back into the void.
    This hadn’t happened to her before. It felt like the dream was crashing towards an ending, yet she was still here inside it. Could she be trapped? If not, what did it mean? Before Anna had the chance to digest the strange darkness around her everything snapped back into focus. The river returned, somehow flowing stronger and with more urgency. But now the trees huddled closer, encroaching on her body as if they reached for her arms once again.
    That wasn’t all that had changed. She was now there too, sitting on a brown log in front of her. In a flash Anna forgot all about the unexplained glitch and sprang towards the young girl.
    She couldn’t see her face but there was no doubting for Anna who it was. She dressed in a colourful fashion like any normal teenage girl, but with more layers as if to protect from a biting cold. The girl turned towards her now as Anna closed to within a few feet of where she sat upon a fresh felled tree. Recognition flared in the little eyes, but that emotion seemed tempered by a strong hint of sadness too.
    “You came again.” The girl said, shaking her head as if to scold the much older women. “You shouldn’t be here.”
    Anna ignored the comment and reached out her hand to touch the girl’s cheek. As usual her hand fell agonisingly short. It hovered, millimetres away no matter how much she tried to reach further. Anna didn’t fight hard for the extra distance, having suspected all along that it wouldn’t work. It was always worth trying, in case the rules of this place proved to be as fluid as the white foaming rapids rushing away in front of her. So try she always did.
    The girl turned away, ignoring the futile effort as she faced back towards the river. “It is dangerous here,” she paused as if weighing each word against her heart, “you need to leave before something bad happens to you.”
    Anna withdrew her hand. “I know. It is just… I wanted to find you here. I needed to see you again before I have to go back. Please, can you look at me?”
    The girl shook her head. “No, it’s better if you just go. What do you want from me? You know there is nothing left for you here. You know what I am.”
    Anna tried to reach her one more time, “Please…”
    The girl hesitated then turned once again. This time her features remained hidden as her face blurred and shimmered in the failing sunshine. Startled, Anna drew back her hand as if bitten. Amidst the blur, the girl’s green eyes still pierced into Anna’s as if once again questioning the wisdom of her presence. “Please? How can you ask anything of me? You know what you did.” She paused as if deciding how cruel she needed to be. “You didn’t protect me, now it is too late.”
    With this accusation, the river rushing along behind them started to fade out of the dream. The dark blue water and sparkling foam giving way to a grey emptiness stretching along before them. It seemed the dream was destroying itself somehow; Anna knew she would be forced to wake soon.
    In desperation, Anna jumped towards the small girl and tried to grab her in a hug. But her arms somehow passed through like she was trying to clutch at the wind itself. Instead, she fell in a heap on the still solid ground, losing the air from her lungs as the world crashed down around her.

    Anna woke with wild eyes and scratched at her throat as she gasped for breath. She was awake now, but terror gripped her as she realised something was wrong. The canister inserted into her neck flashed dark red as the oxygen level threatened to drop to zero, leaving her dead in the murky darkness of the decrepit office building.
    Her joints creaked as she shot to her feet and ripped the tiny canister out to check the meter. It flashed back at her to say it was empty, but she knew that couldn’t be right. She never would have dared sleep if it was even close to running low. But she didn’t have time to puzzle out the mistake, she just needed air and she needed it fast.
    Blinking her eyes in the pale light she tried to make out the buttons on the small lockbox she always kept with her. In the night gloom it was almost impossible to enter the correct code and the gasping of her breath just made it harder.
    The code must have been in, but the box flashed back at her in error as the door remained shut. She tried again, fighting her instinct to gasp at whatever poisoned air was around her, knowing it would lead to her certain death.
    Just as her lungs threatened to explore the code was right and the lockbox opened. A small treasure trove of canisters greeted her failing sight as she scrambled to grab the nearest one. Not even stopping to check how much oxygen remained in it, she ripped at the seal as her life slipped further away.
    A distant voice yelled out through the darkness, but Anna didn’t care. The tube of life was open now and was hissing in anger as she shoved it towards the socket burnt into her throat.
    The air never made it. Instead it clattered to the ground, spewing out its contents into the freezing night air. Anna soon joined it, slumping down onto the dark stained carpet as a vicious blow caved in the back of her head.
    Her last thought was to reach towards her belongings to take one last look at an old faded photograph. It was the same photograph she had kept with her as she struggled to survive each tortuous day. But as hard as she tried, she just couldn’t reach it.

Writers who inspire me

I thought I would share some thoughts on people who inspire me to write. There are three popular choices here and two Stephens. However perhaps the reasons I like them is a little more unusual than most:

Stephen King

Ironically, I’ve never really read any of his fiction books. I’m not a horror fan so I’ve avoided those and the other genres that he has dipped his toes into sit on my shelf waiting for a rainy day.
Because of this, you would think it would be difficult to draw any inspiration. However besides his huge success (which would be nice) I have carefully read his semi-instructional book “on writing”.

Besides highly recommending it as a good read, it also informed me that I approach writing in pretty much the same way that he does. I write from an idea, rather than a plot and then see where the characters take me. It isn’t the only way to do things and to date I wouldn’t say this has exactly worked out for me. But knowing that it could work is really important. It helps me hope that when I lock myself away to write, I’m going down a path that can lead to something great (even if there is only a 0.00001% chance of that).

J K Rowling

I don’t think of her as a great writer, perhaps not even a good one in a technical sense. But what she I draw from the Harry Potter books is that you can worry all day about grammar, or deep characters or coherent plot devices. All those things are certainly nice. However none of them is as important as being creative and just telling a ripping good story. I get more out of running through those books then slogging through any number of more complicated fantasy novels. I get what I get out of them through sheer enjoyment and that should never be discounted.

I hope too that my work can be enjoyed even if it doesn’t come close to matching up against the literary gods. A great story is just that, great and I want to keep striving to find one inside me to tell.

Stephen Donaldson

Taking the opposite approach is old Stephen Donaldson. Nowhere near as famous as the previous two, I know him best as the author of the Thomas Covenant series of books.
In a direct contrast to something like Harry Potter these books are long, complicated and filled with boring or unlikeable characters. There are long stretches of time when nothing of importance happens for chapter after chapter. The plot gets lost amidst a confused message and I never quite wrapped my head around the unnecessarily obtuse language.

I really didn’t enjoy reading his books at all. But yet? I still love them and often want to read them again. Why? God knows really, but somehow it just works for me. The inspiration then is that no matter how hard it is to dig into a novel that I write, I’m hoping somebody will be able to take the effort to get in there. Even if they don’t? They might somehow still enjoy the journey anyway.

Three very different writers there with very different inspirations. The lesson as always with writing is that it is just as important to read and from a wide selection.

Who inspires you to write?