Better than no progress, naturally.
Word count: 25865

Bah. Still not giving up though. Feel like I should be able to get some traction tomorrow.

Stalled, but I’m not giving up yet. I still intend to get it done by the end of the month.

I’m still behind, but I haven’t stopped. Chapter five is slowly being fleshed out.
Word count: 25414

Bad time management really doesn’t make catching up any easier. I’m still behind. I should find time to watch this lecture on time management by Randy Pausch. One of the things I did catch while skimming it was that bad time management causes stress—I think I have empirical data confirming this hypothesis.

Terrible time management and needing to do a lot of new writing caught up with me tonight. I haven’t finished Chapter Five, and so I need to play catchup tomorrow (and, possibly, thereafter).
Word count: 24610.

Toughest section so far, writing much of the first half of chapter five from scratch.
Word count: 24035.

More major surgery, and chapter four is finished.
Word count: 21368.

Slogging through the bloat.
Word count: 18701.

End of chapter three. I had to add a few hundred words this time, which I suspect means that I’ve divided some of the sections up incorrectly… but we’ll see. The bulk of the bloat for this part of the draft remains to be tackled over the next chapter.
Word count: 16035.

Harder going, but it’s still going.
Word count: 13368.

I’m done with the second chapter, and done with the easy parts. The next two chapters are based on material that I’ve already edited heavily, but it’s a great deal messier than the material for the first two was. I know it’s going to be difficult to chop it down and keep it coherent.
Word count: 10702.

Halfway through chapter two, Lee escorting Lawrenceson. Lots of trimming sentences and paragraphs down, and removing pieces that seem extraneous. The worry is always that something valuable will be lost, but I think first of the fact that I can add things back if they’re completely critical, and second of the dictum that a work is finished not when there’s nothing left to add, but when there’s nothing left to take away.
Word count: 8036.

I’m still in the comparatively easy part. I’ve worked on the beginning of the novel the most, since I’ve started the editing process many times. So the first few chapters, just over the first week of this process, involve working on material that’s already got some good structure and that’s been edited down from the sprawling first draft. And now the first chapter is done.
Word count: 5334.

November is NaNoWriMo. I already have a novel, or at least somewhere between 180,000 and 200,000 words of something that could be a novel if you looked at it funny. Last year I wrote a microversion of it in September. That did spur me to work on it more, but I never managed to find a rhythm that would let me finish it. So, given that the approach of a target every day seems to work for me, I’ve decided that this will be Tadhg Novel Editing Month.
[more...]

The Pale Blue Eye is a historical thriller set in 1830s America, at West Point Military Academy. A murder there brings a retired police constable, Augustus Landor, back to work, and in the course of his duties he becomes friendly with one of the cadets—Edgar Allan Poe.
[more...]

Afterwards, when I was next aware, everything was dark. I had my eyes closed, but couldn’t seem to open them.
[more...]

I died a while ago. I’m not sure how long, but it can’t be more than a few years. I don’t keep track of time too well.
[more...]

From a distance, all looks well. Peaceful, serene. The ship floats, its sails unfurled, ready to depart.
[more...]

The flight had been a long one. My legs and back were sore, and complained when I put my bag down to use the sink. The restroom was relatively busy, and I’d had to wait for a sink to become free.

It was one of the ‘no-touch’ sinks, where the water just runs when you put your hands under it. I put my hands under it.

Nothing.

I waved my hands around a little. Still nothing. I tried higher and lower, but no water came forth.

I pushed my bag sideways with my foot and moved over to the next sink. Same actions, same lack of results. Another man stepped up to the sink I’d just been using and washed his hands.

When the next sink over freed up, I tried that. No success. I stepped back and waited for the man using the first one I’d tried to leave, and then moved to that one again. But it didn’t work. The other sinks also worked both before and after I tried them.

I tried touching parts of the faucet, rubbing my hands together, faster movements, keeping my hands still, covering my belt with one hand in case it was somehow reflecting something. The tap stayed resolutely off.

None of the others in the room paid me any attention. There was a sense of transience, and everyone wanted to remain in their own bubble.

The other bubbles were moving smoothly through the restroom, but I was not. The machines governing the process refused to deal with me, and I could sense the combination of slight irritation and increased bubble thickness from those around me who noticed I wasn’t following the same steps as everyone else. The room was full of unconnected strangers, yet I had managed to become an outsider.

(300 words)

He didn’t like it. The work, whatever it truly was, had dragged, and now they were stuck there a third night.
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“Have I mentioned that I love you?”
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Technology. What does that mean? We think of it as meaning electronics, computers, but it means all our tools. Including the latest gadgetry, yes, but also the simplest things, like clubs and knives.
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