• Work
• Daddy duties
• Role playing and/or gaming most Saturdays
• Running my writer’s group
• Looking for an agent for my first book
• Working on the second book
• Finishing my masters degree in information assurance***
• Reading

Yeah. That about sums it up.

*** I am pseudo-officially done with my MS in IA!!! I received word a few days ago that things are completed on the paperwork side of things and I have all of the signatures that I need for the thesis. I’m just waiting for graduation day to arrive (no, not walking across the stage,) so I can get my diploma and mount it on the wall alongside the rest of my educational accolades!

Word chosen: lait

Definition: A marine gadoid food fish of Europe (Pollachius virens). Called also greenfish, greenling, lait, leet, lob, lythe, and whiting pollack. (b) The American pollock; the coalfish.

Free association word list:
lair
dragon
treasure
gold
silver
copper
platinum
electrum
alloy
steel
stainless
stain
grapes
wine
beer
mead
fermentation
yeast
malt
barley
water
hops
flower
smell
earthy
soil
dirt
earth
Earth
planet
Solar System
Sol
star
constellations
myths

Word chosen: dragon

Writing:

Gargaul’s treasure horde has been plundered while he was out mating with the nearest female dragon. He knew that this would happen when he left his lair, but the urge to mate was too strong. Gargaul has taken the form of a lithe human in an effort to track down his missing treasure items, and is attempting to retrieve them. Gargaul is being opposed by the people that bought the items from the dwarf Hastin who sold them to private collectors. Hastin has learned of Gargaul’s actions, and wants to protect his clients and his reputation. Hastin, an adventurer of great repute, is tracking Gargaul, and is attempting to kill him for the trouble that is being caused.

Huh. First time I’ve really tried that exercise. I’ve always come up with ideas in my head, and just thrown them at paper. Of course, none of them stuck. Not one. Live and learn, I guess. This story summary idea is a great one! I must do this more often as an exercise, and every time I prepare to write a story. Good stuff.

It’s pretty exhausting being around a newborn. I managed to get quite a bit a sleep last night (6 1/2 semi-contiguous hours) as compared to Kiara (about 3 broken hours) before crawling out of bed for Kiernan’s first doctor appointment. That appointment went well, and everything checked out fine.

Then it was back home, and I ordered Kiara to bed for some sleep while I stayed up and played with Kiernan (as much as you can play with someone that is less than 48 hours old.) He mostly slept while I mostly watched TV. Thank God for TiVo-like devices. This allowed me to catch up on some TV shows, and pause them to tend to Kiernan.

You figure that he’ll cry a little, you’ll check diapers, swaddling, clothing, and pacifiers a little, and that’s about it. That’s really all there is to it (for the parent without the breasts that is), except for the holding, talking, bouncing, and general interaction. You figure that he weighs a little under eight pounds (yes, 8 lbs, 2 oz at birth, but most babies lose 10% of their weight in a day or two, and then start putting it back on) and handling something that weighs about the same as a large bag of flour wouldn’t really tire you out.

Think again.

Somehow spending 6 non-stop hours with a newborn can be really exhausting, but the lack of sleep can’t help either. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining about having a newborn around. (I’m belly-aching a little, and looking for sympathy, though.) I loved every moment of those 6 hours that I had with my son. It was a great 6 hours.

Why only 6 hours? Well, that’s just the 6 uninterrupted hours that I had with him. Then came time for some neighbors to come by, a trip to the store for some stuff for Kiara, and easy-to-fix meals for those moments when warming a casserole donated by a friend in the oven just won’t work. Oh. And diapers. 80 of them. That might last a week. Yep. A week. Oi.

Once I was back from the store, we managed to scarf down some food, play with Kiernan some more, and get him to settle down for a while. Then I headed down to my office (where I’m at right now) to check email real quick, and post this blog.

I’m beat. I normally don’t get to bed until 11:30 to Midnight. It’s 10:30 now, and I’m going to crash as soon as I click “Save” and make sure that the post went through.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll be able to do some writing. We’ll see how it goes. Yep. Maybe. Ha!

PS: I’ve been a member of the local writer’s group for a year now (and three months of showing up to meeting before I joined as a full member.) Yay. A year. Problem is that I’ve only had two submissions during those 12 months. Boo. Hiss. Even worse? It was the same short story (though the second submission was drastically different, and drastically improved thanks to my group’s feedback.) I’ve made a promise to myself that I will have close to 50 pages of submission (50 pages is the limit per member per month) for the next four months running, or I will severely flog myself with something painful… like writing romance.

Word chosen: reconstructor

NOTE: None of the five above were in my dictionary searches as is. Reconstructor was the closest with….

Definition: Noun Related To: to construct again; rebuild; make over.

Free association word list:
reconstruction
Carpet Bagger
Civil War
economics
forced hand
forceful
coersion
interrogation
water boarding
torture
taser
death
final
goodbye
farewell
waving
hand
fingers
toes
feet
nasty
fungus
toenails
nails
tough
manly
macho
nacho
libre

Word chosen: torture

Writing:

Name: Kirtuk Mangil

Keywords: fat, bad teeth, horrible breath, fingers stained with drugs, shaved head, thin mustache.

First draft:

Kirtuk Mangil hails from the small desert nation of Pater where death by the worst means possible are common-day. This is where Kirtuk learned his skills as a torturer. When death is horrific, the threat, and delivery, of pain has to be even worse. The fat Paterian has horrible breath from his rotting teeth, and constant use of the narcotic known as grier. The tips of the fingers on his right hand are stained a dark brown from the constant application of the grier between Kirtuk’s cheek and gums. The only hair on Kirtuk’s head is a thin mustache that seems out of place on his rotund head.

Revision:

The fat torturer leaned closer to his victim and exposed his rotting teeth. The blast of hot, foul air that wafted from Kirtuk Mangil’s mouth would have made a normal person swoon, but Kirtuk’s application of pain on his victim was too complete. The torturer leaned back as his stroked the only hair on his rotund head: his thin mustache. While the poor man that was tied to the table writhed in agony, Kirtuk took a pinch of the narcotic grier between his stained fingers and crammed it between his cheek and gums. The stained fingers slowly slid from the pouchy lips of the sad, fat man, before they reached for his next implement of torture.

Ok. I’ve done a week or so of rambling about my past. I’ve done a week or so of poorly executing scenes. I’ve done a week or so of slapping some characters down on a page. I’ve gotten some halfway decent ideas through this whole process. Good stuff that I’ll probably continue after NaBloPoMo is over.

The upcoming week will be some efforts into story summaries. They’re supposed to be less than 150 words, but include information about the basic plot sitation, the name of ID of the protagonist, the protagonist’s goals, the name of the antagonist, why the antagonist wants to stop the protagonist, and how the antagonist is going to attempt to do this. Maybe I’ll get some writing ideas out of this next week.

Word chosen: unrazored

Definition: Not shaven.

Free association word list:
whiskers
beard
goatee
pointy
black
evil
necromancer
naked dancer
stripper
lap dance
pasties
g-string
shaven (woah! round trip from starting point.)
tuna
fresh
smell
raindrops
snow
drift
snow blower
24 minutes, baby!

Word chosen: necromancer

Writing:

Name: Malakos

Keywords: dark elf, mouse-like features, silver hair, red eyes, long fingers, skinny.

First draft:

Malakos stands against the wind as it whips his thick black robe about his sparse frame. The long fingers of one hand struggle to hold the robe closed against the gale, as the other hand shields his face against the blasts of rain. His red eyes glitter in the supernatural witch-light that suffuses the hills around his tower. He looks into the storm searching for those that he knows are coming.

Revision:

Malakos’ already pinched, mouse-like features tighten even further as he turns into the wind of the blowing storm. The long fingers of one hand struggle to hold his robe closed against the gale winds as the other hand shields his red eyes against the blasts of rain. The dark elf necromancer knows that the villagers are coming to his tower tonight to reclaim their children. It is too bad that the children have already had their throats slit, and have been reanimated as shuffling undead. Malakos’ white teeth shine in the eerie witch-light that emanates from his nearby tower as he ponders how many parents will be driven insane by facing the untiring assault of their own dead children. By the end of the night, the village, and its secret, will lie in the dark elf’s hands.

Malakos was a recurring villain that I used in a D&D game back in the early 1990′s. Even though it has been over 10 years since I have used him in an adventure, I still love him as one of the best villains that I have come up with. I knew that he was a high quality bad guy when the players would scream in rage when they would realize who was behind the slaughter of an entire village. The players (not just the characters) truly hated Malakos, and the mention of his name (even after the campaign had been done for over a year) would cause the players’ blood to boil. Muahahahahaha…. Yep. I’m proud of myself for creating such a mean bastard.

Word chosen: hyperdulia

Definition: the veneration offered to the Virgin Mary as the most exalted of creatures.

Free association word list:
idolatry
sin
mortal sin
Hell
burning
torture
pain
suffering
forever
eternal
in passing
blink of an eye
temporary
transient
…. wow…. brain lock…. ummm……
…. shifting gears….
brain
head
skull
scalp
Native American

Word chosen: Native American

Writing:

Name: James “Eagle Tail” Redrock

Keywords: Old, broken, once proud, war hero, drunk, paralyzed, sharp eyes.

First draft:

James “Eagle Tail” Redrock sits in his wheelchair and looks out the window with his sharp eyes. He is broken by old age and too much drink, but he was once a proud warrior that fought in the United States Army during Desert Storm. That war left him paralyzed from the middle of his chest down. He is proud of his past, but regrets being forced to live in squalor even though he earned [insert medal here] during Desert Storm. He feels that the government owes him more than what he is getting from them.

Refinement:

Eagle Tail looked across the desert-like landscape of his reservation while taking another drink from his fifth of Jack. His vision brings everything clearly to him even though he has been drinking for the past three hours. A quick glance at the clock tells Eagle Tail that his Meals On Wheels people will be arriving with his lunch in fifteen minutes. They always call him by his white-man name “James Redrock”, and the old woman always tells the young boy that is with her that “James” is a war hero.

Eagle Tail looks at the small display box next to the clock on the wall of his trailer house. Just looking at the Distinguished Service Cross, three Purple Hearts, and Prisoner of War Medal made for an impressive sight, but the man that earned those awards no longer exists. He was broken and drowned under the weight of memories that can only be kept at bay by a steady intake of whiskey.

Eagle Tail sighed as he looked back out the window. He must have stared at the medals longer than he thought. He could see the plume of dust rising in the distance as his Meals On Wheels people drove down the long dirt road that lead to his isolated trailer. He knew better than to disappoint the young man, so he quickly hid his bottle of Jack, and headed to the bathroom to rinse his mouth with Listerine. By the time he was ready for them, the old lady and her tag-along boy would be here.

Ok. I like this character. I can feel him in some way. Maybe I’ll save him for later use. I could go on a bit longer, but I think I’ll hold off. It’s getting late, and I haven’t even finished one of my fourteen things that I wanted to do today. Huh. The list of fourteen should probably be spread over the long weekend, now that I’m looking closer at the list. Still…. Not even one done.

Word chosen: full-chested

Definition: Couldn’t really find one, so I’m making my own: big boobies. Yeah. I know. Mature, eh?

Free association word list:
breasts
implants
fake
insecure
unstable
emotional
crazed
bipolar
manic
depressed
flip-flop
wishy-washy
indecisive
decision
action
reaction
conflict
fight
war
battle
soldier
uniform
identical
twins
Double Mint Gum
mint
mojito

Word chosen: soldier

Writing:

Name: Patricia “Bones” Wellford

Keywords: skinny, short, emaciated, wiry, resilient, blond, pretty.

First draft:

Specialist Patricia “Bones” Wellford stands a little over five feet in height, and barely weighs in at ninety pounds. How she got into the military, made it through basic training, and into the active ranks no one will never know. Despite her small size, she has persevered through every test thrown at her. Her short-cropped blond hair barely frames her pretty face. She would be considered beautiful if she would only put on a little weight. Even men that like their women skinny find Patricia to be on the unattractive side because of her protruding bones.

Refinement:

Specialist Patricia “Bones” Wellford stretched her emaciated arm up to the top shelf, but couldn’t quite reach the bowl. Her short stature made things like this difficult. She finally managed to jump up to grab the bowl, and as she landed her short blond hair danced around her pretty face. She flashed a beautiful smile at her triumph over her shortcomings. She loved proving to other people that she could do things even though she was smaller than most high school freshmen.

She turned her triumphant smile toward Yuri who smiled back. Bones could see the love in Yuri’s eyes even though he had admitted to her a few days back that he would find her more attractive if she would put on some weight. Specialist Wellford had tried numerous times to gain weight, but it just never stuck on. She was forever cursed to walk the lands looking like a fleshless skeleton, thus her nickname of “Bones.”

If I ever choose the name Patricia again for a character, expect her to die a horrible and quick death. I can’t type that name to save my life. It always comes out “Patricitia”. I don’t know why. Also, I know that the military has its requirements for height/weight ratios, and there’s no way Bones would ever make it. If I were to use this character, she would have to be non-military, or somehow have slipped through the system unnoticed.

Word chosen: lixiviate

Definition: to treat with a solvent; leach.

Free association word list:
leech
suck
blood
vampire
undead
zombie
skeleton
cannon fodder
front line
shield wall
Spartans
300
Iran
bitchy
crazy
no
wait
bat-shit crazy
nukes
mutually assured destruction
War Games
Cheyenne Mountain
NORAD
military

Word chosen: zombie

Writing:

Name: Harry Larson

Keywords: tall, smelly, long hair, acne scarred face, intelligent.

First draft:

Harry is a tall man that was once human, but now his rotting flesh tells the truth of his current state. He is a zombie. The stench of his rotting flesh also announces his presence long before his pitted face becomes visible. Most people assume that his scarred face is a result of him being undead, but he has always had those scars as a result of horrible acne when he was a youth. Most folks assume that, as a zombie, Harry is stupid, but he actually quite intelligent.

Refinement:

Harry swung his acne scarred face around to face the odd sound. He knew that as a zombie he was hunted and hated. Most zombies are mindless killing machines, but the tall former man managed to retain his high level of intelligence when he was transformed into one of the walking dead. The zombie’s sight is not as good as it used to be, but he could still see the three men stalking him in the night. Harry pulled his long hair back into a pony tail to face down his pursuers. He has tried to talk his way out of fights in the past, but the horrible smell of his rotting body parts won’t allow this tactic anymore. When he is discovered by the living, fighting is Harry’s only recourse. Even though he didn’t need to brethe, Harry forced air in and out of his lungs in a hard sigh as he turned to face the trio.

I know I’ve done a zombie post recently, but I figured I would try it from the zombie’s point of view. This character may actually be a little fun to write about. If I do, I’ll change the name from Harry. It was the first name that popped in my head, but there are quite a few famous fictional Harry-named characters out there.

Word chosen: acupressure

Definition: a type of massage in which finger pressure on the specific bodily sites described in acupuncture therapy is used to promote healing, alleviate fatigue, etc.

Free association word list:
acupuncture
puncture
stab
wound
bleed
blood
gore
guts
horror movie
Exorcist
exorcism
young priest
old priest
old
elderly
retirement
work
paycheck
money
green
little men
aliens
Alien
space travel
cryogenics
freezing
cold
Montana
winter
snow

Word chosen: old priest

Writing:

Name: Father Joseph “Old Joe” Venegoni

Keywords: Old. Wrinkled. Wise. Smile. Missing teeth. Balding. Broken nose.

First draft:

Father Vengoni walks with a limp when the days are cold. He is hunched over from years of carrying the weight of worry about his past. Despite is age and infirmity, he still manages a smile to his parishioners when he meets them on the street. Hard days of fighting as a youth has mangled his nose, and caused the loss of several teeth. Even though he has a hard look about him, everyone knows that he is a kind and gentle man.

Refinement:

Father Joseph Venegoni slowly shuffles his feet back and forth as he sweeps the steps to his small church. A first glance, his stooped posture may be because of the short handle on the crude broom, but the balding priest stops for a moment to stretch his aging back to reveal a harsh curve to his spine. Before the wrinkled face of the Catholic priest can turn back to his work, a small girl walks by and waves at the old man.

Old Joe cracks a gap-toothed smile at the little girl and waves back in a slow gesture. Even though the missing teeth, crooked nose, and hunched back gives the priest a somewhat horrific appearance, the little girl does not shy away. She knows the priest, and the love that he has for the people of the neighborhood. The misshapen visage of Father Venegoni is barely noticed by his parishioners because they know that despite his harsh past as a ruffian on in the streets of New York, he has left all that behind him.

As the little girl walks past, the old man’s smile fades into the wrinkles of his face. He thinks about the little girl who he left without a father so many decades ago. He knows that he’s paid his penance to God, society, and the little girl, but he hopes that the little girl, and God, can find it in their hearts to forgive him for the violent actions of his past.

The old priest lets his worries fade away as he focuses on the steady wish-wash-wish sound of the broom on the brick steps of his church. Doing menial work around the church is his form of meditation and escape from his bloody nightmares that attempt to emulate the memories of his youth.

List of words, phrases, and sentences just thrown down as a first impression.

Typical MUD-style writing where the description is told, not shown. (Quality writing is supposed to be the other way around.)

A more refined writing (paragraph or two) that gives you an impression of the character that is written with an eye for quality writing.

We’ll see how it goes.