Wynderlon.com is the personal website of Himani, an aspiring author. Here, she chronicles the daily struggles of trying to get a word count down on paper (or computer screen), the foibles and challenges of life, and the usual random insanity.
To clarify, I don’t usually write this late at night. In truth, it screws up my internal clock, but I was on a roll and I didn’t want to stop. So I kept going and when I looked up it was 2am. I think I’m going to sleep after writing this (which will be posted in the morning). I think caffeine will definitely be in order in the morning. 
1. Things get a little surreal around 1:30am, and I’m not entirely sure if what I’m writing will be any good.
2. Writing late turns off some of my “crap-o-tectors” which is nice in one way, I’m less judgmental about my writing. I suppose it’ll be equal to having a few drinks before sitting down at the keyboard — not that I ever have done that. 
3. The plinky violin noises that the X-Files use during suspenseful parts is rather creepy.
4. I forgot to pick up my peppermint tea bags. They help settle my stomach and my mind. Personally, I think Stash has the best peppermint tea. (Yes, these are the random thoughts that fly through my head)
5. I think by tonight or tomorrow the probably-for-a-joke rave scene will be written (”because every sci-fi/fantasy seems to have a rave scene” 
).
6. I wonder if that girl in the Applebee’s commercial realized when she did the peace sign with the back of her fingers towards the camera, in England that’s considered flipping a person off. 
7. Does Scully ever get tired of saying the same logical babble and yet Mulder always seems right? Does she ever listen to herself and say, “You know what, never mind. I know how this will turn out. You’ll say some really weird shit and I’ll say ‘yeah right, that’s some really weird shit.’ And in the end you’ll be right anyway. So let’s just go with your crazy theory from the get-go.”?
8. Tayce’s full name, Taycera, sounds like something from a song. “Taycera cera, whatever will be will be…”
9. Fangbanger is a slang word already. As is Sporn, and Spore has only been out for — what, a few weeks? People are just wrong.
10. How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
…Yeah, I ran out of steam for the last one. I’m off to bed. 
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When given the time I will write
Himani — June 24, 2008 at 6:21 pm {No Comments}
Category: Writing
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I’ve been trying to keep a log of how much writing I am doing this summer. I wondered, “If given the time, without a million other things pressing on my mind, would I write? And how much would I write?” I made a pretty fancy Excel spreadsheet (because I’m a geek like that) and yesterday I realized I’m just over 20k this month. 
I think, besides November, this is the first time I’ve written so much in a month. If this continues, I may actually finish “Tayce” by the end of this summer. In which case would begin the bear that is editing (and I have a lot of editing to do for Tayce).
I’ve been writing the novel with the mindset of Nanowrimo — don’t think about it, edit later, just get it out. So I write as the story comes to me, keeping my editing to a minimum until I finish it and can look at the story from beginning to end and see what needs to be tweaked, changed, redone, and/or undone. When I took this philosophy, my output increased nearly 3x. And I can edit in the good stuff and edit out the bad. But, I also feel like I’m getting somewhere.
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Morning writing; productivity due to sleep deprivation
Himani — June 20, 2008 at 9:02 am {No Comments}
Category: Tayce, Writing
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I am currently typing this at Crave, the local coffee shop. I needed a change of scenery; there’s only so many days you can stay at home because the damn rental car took up your gas allowance and you are currently trying to make a quarter tank last until (at the earliest) Saturday morning. Ah, good times. Luckily Crave is near-literally across from where John works so I stopped in for a bagel and maybe a good few hours of writing. Who knows? Maybe I’ll just shift from here, B&N, and/or Borders today and try to get a significant amount of my writing done today. Who knows? If I’m diligent, I may even get to the death scene I’ve been planning since I first began “Tayce.” 
Speaking of “Tayce,” I was re-reading the first 15 pages or so to get my creative juices flowing (sometimes I do a little exercise and sometimes I just re-read an old part I’ve written so I can get into the right mind frame again) and I realized…it’s not half-bad. In fact, dare I say it, it’s pretty good. I like the way I began the novel, especially:
The moon was only a small slice, a poor excuse for a “C.” It threw only a little light, enough for Tayce to see just ahead of her and make sure she didn’t fall into any open graves.
Not bad; a good hook mentioning open graves. The metaphor for the moon is take-it or leave-it, but it’s a little more unique than the usual “fingernail” moon, so I give myself an extra half cookie.
Am I tooting my own horn, you ask? Yes I am, because damn it, every once in a while it’s nice to feel one’s writing is worthwhile instead of the usual “ohmigod this is a pile of drivel why am I hoping and working and sweating blood for this piece of junk that probably will end up in a slush pile somewhere?” Take the triumphs were you can, I say! So yes, I shall compliment myself. Toot toot!
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The things you learn
Himani — June 17, 2008 at 2:46 pm {No Comments}
Category: Writing
Tags: |
Wow, there’s a Marvel mutant named Piecemeal, which sounds like a name you’re more likely to give a dog than your alter-persona. Plus, his super power seems to be a big stretch considering what piecemeal means.
This is what I get for using my Wikipedia search by mistake instead of my Dictionary.com one.
———
On another semi-related note, I’ve written something like 4,500 words since Sunday — not bad, if I do say so myself. It means that I’m actually keeping with my “try for at least 1,000 words a day” goal (although my summer reading is suffering as a result). However, I’m wondering if I’m writing anything good, per se. In a way I wish I was done with “Tayce” and was giving it its first “official” edit. I can never see the whole picture of a story until I have it printed out and in front of me, with a red pen in my hand.
I’ve been giggling over some old MSTings (Oscar, anyone?) and really bad fanfiction because, well, it’s one way to let your brain cool down after agonizing over your writing and your graduate application package (gods help me) and there’s always the worry of bad osmosis.
Of course, thinking about bad writing makes me wonder if my writing is bad and if I’m just doing the literary equivalent of vomiting onto the page (or, in its current form, screen). I’ve also been worrying that Tayce has too much “down time” in between its action scenes, but again, this may be because I have yet to see the whole picture of the story. And then I slowly spiral into an emo-whining-writer who can’t stand to look at the computer screen lest the literary equivalent of the Raven flies out and says to me “Nevermore.” Eventually, though, one must bitch-slap themselves back into the present and continue with work. Yeah, get going me, times a-wastin’.
Well folks, this may be the end for me. They’re beating down the door. John’s already been bitten. I’ve only got two shotgun shells left and the machete. They’re about to break down the door as I furiously type this last message. Whoever finds this…don’t take my stuff.
….
….
The pounding has stopped. Could it be? Could I be saved? I’m crawling over to the window, I’ll keep the laptop close.
Yes, the zombies have stopped! They’re gathering around the apartment. I can see them gathering in the parking lot and beyond. There’s hundreds of them, no doubt thousands, maybe even millions! Zombies everywhere, for as far as the eye can see! They are lined up, about arm length from each other. What are they doing?
They’re dancing! It takes me a minute and then I recognize it. It’s Thriller!
The zombies shuffle and dance quite elegantly. They contort and sway perhaps on par with the legendary Michael Jackson himself. I am watching this in disbelief, how can this be? Was the zombie apocalypse purely so the zombies could make the biggest flash mob ever?
I watch and wait and just as my computer clock hits twelve midnight, the zombies finish the song, fidget a little as if waiting for applause that doesn’t come, and then begin to shuffle away into the night. A moment later the door opens and John walks in, once again human and healthy. He looks at me, with my mouth hanging open and my eyes wide with surprise, and says, “Oh, hey. Did I eat today? I feel really bloated. Ugh. I’m going to bed.”
Happy Blog Like It’s the End of the World Day, everyone!
(By the way, if you’re just arriving, this is the end of the story. Read the whole thing here starting at the bottom)
I had to run over a few zombies getting to Fry’s. Nothing too bad, they seem to avoid the tarmac, probably because it burns their feet. At Fry’s, I thought a zombie was at the diary area, blocking the milk, and I touched the machete’s hilt, ready just in case…but it turned out to be an old lady who couldn’t seem to decide between 1% or 2%. She seemed either oblivious to the zombie threat or immune.
Most of the zombies congregated around the Starbucks coffee bags. I got an idea and while I ran past I grabbed a whole armful. The zombies didn’t even blink. They seemed to be trying to make their stubby, bony fingers work and open the bags. When I got to the parking lot, it was a different story. There were nearly four dozen zombies slowly shambling their way towards the sliding doors!
I saw my chance, an opening that would get me to my car and I ran. I tossed the bags of Starbucks coffee behind me and the zombies went right for it, ignoring me and allowing for my escape. I tossed the milk inside and slid into the driver’s seat and skidded out of the parking lot. That was a close one!
Now back in the safety of the apartment I watch the zombies from the window again. They seem to be attracted to movement — like a T-rex — and smell. Since they can’t seem to smell me in the apartment (I made sure to lock all the windows and doors) they seem oblivious to my presence. I try to stay perfectly still when I watch them. There was one close call when a zombie appeared and scared me. I jumped, he noticed, I tossed out the last of my coffee and while it isn’t Starbucks, it was enough for make him pause. These zombies seem to like coffee and brains, interesting.
Right now, I’m watching a zombie munch on a kid’s arm and stop when the kid turns into a zombie, himself. Well, the kid shouldn’t've cut in the line for the slide, zombies don’t take kindly to people who cut in line.
More later, as this zombie apocalypse continues.
Still here. There’s more of them this time than last time. Dozens upon dozens have descended upon the apartment complex. They seem to like the children’s playground, particularly the slide. I watch them climb up the wooden ladder and slide down. Some of them smile, their lips cracking open, and some can’t smile anymore — no lips.
My current kill count is 3, not very high but I don’t want to risk anything. The last thing I need is zombies munching on my brain. But, when I opened the door to get the mail, some stragglers saw me and shambled towards me with arm’s outstretched like they wanted to hug me. Yeah, that’s one hug I don’t need — no touchy, you zombies, unless you want to kiss my machete. I haven’t even needed to use the shotgun yet.
I’m out of milk. Damn, I need to head to Fry’s and those damn zombies are out there. That’s OK, that’s OK. I can’t let these zombies rule my life and I need my Quaker Oats breakfast. I’ve got weapons and a car. I can do it.
I remember the horrific events of last year I was ready this time. A large machete, a shotgun, some boxes of shells, and an MP3 player full of music sit in the corner as I look out of the window suspiciously. I know it will happen, it happens every year. They come out from whatever dark corner that they are hiding in.
I smell them first. After all, it’s over one hundred degrees today, so it’s not surprising that the smell comes first. It smells sweet and cloying like garbage left outside too long — like rotten meat. When they finally come into sight, I can say it. “Zombies,” I murmur. Their skin is ghastly. Most of their skin has discolored, being dead for so long, and some have little strips hanging down and wiggling as they move. Each zombie is unique, like a snowflake. Some have eyes that are protruding from their face because their eyelids have rotted away. Some have atrophied muscles showing because the skin has scraped off. Some, the bone in their jaw can be seen, white like snow. Some, their teeth are large and ghastly because their lips have rotted away.
“Ugly fuckers,” I say, reaching for my shotgun. It’s going to be a long day.
I’ll journal again, but right now I’ve got to discourage some undead from snacking on my brain.
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I think I’m loosing the knack of handwriting
Himani — June 9, 2008 at 11:39 pm {No Comments}
Category: Journal, Writing
Tags: |
I was copying my short story ideas into my notebook, which I like to take along with me for easier reference (no tabbing between documents or if I wanted to focus on working on short story ideas, outlining, etc. I don’t have to pull out the laptop or open any word processing program), but my arm was getting tired from just copying down a page. 
I admit, my upper body strength needs some work (Who knew that when I got into university and decided to try and find cushy, less manual-labor intensive jobs like tutoring, I would be letting my arm muscles atrophy even as I got a couple of extra dollars in pay per hour? Oh, the sacrifices one must make.) but I thought I was better than that.
Granted, people have called me “violent” when it comes to my handwriting. I think it’s because while many people seem to write using their wrist, I write with my whole arm. I don’t move my wrist to make the letters and then move my arm down the page, I use my whole arm for the letters, too. Classmates used to complain when we sat at the long tables (they were particularly popular in classes that believed a circular or rectangular set up promoted “classroom unity” since everyone had to stare at everyone else) and I would shake the whole thing writing the way I did. Another problem is I grip the pen pretty tightly. I don’t know why I do this. I also keep my face close to the page or even pillow my head on my other arm so I look at what I’m writing at a slant. I’d like to say this keeps me more connected and focused with whatever I’m writing but the truth is probably a mixture of bad eyesight and laziness.
I guess the image I just painted above makes me look like some flailing, shaking fool when I write on paper. Maybe I do look like that. John says I always look like I’m concentrating really hard, he even said sometimes I get a slight frown on my face. I know my endurance for handwriting has lessened since I began note-taking on the laptop (a necessity in the last few semesters when lectures suddenly became more boring yet with more info-dumping, and the teachers began talking faster.) since most my handwriting was being done trying to keep up with a teacher while taking my meticulous notes (no shortening of words and meanings wherever possible and different colors for headings versus the actual notes, otherwise going back over my notes was a chore and a lesson in patience).
I think I better start writing more in my journal and my notebooks. I need to build my endurance up again (cue “Eye of the Tiger” and montage ala Rocky-style).
I did a writing exercise that I mentioned I’d be posting on Wynderlon.com. It’s a short short featuring Morgan and one of her many acquaintances, Seth. I don’t know yet if Seth will ever make an appearance in the series. Morgan knows a lot of different people through her years as an Adventurer. Since her field is pretty specialized — she mostly knows combat and export/import laws, since those are the two things she deals with — she makes contacts who know how to do other things. Seth is a tech-junkie and a very good hacker. I know I’ll be introducing another character in the first book, whose known for her ability to “acquire” anything. In fact, she and Morgan were partners for a little while.
The short short also includes some world building that I don’t know if it’ll ever get into the books I’m planning. I always seem to world build more than will probably be explored! It’s frustrating because some of the stuff about Morgan’s world is really neat, like the space program, the types of alternate energy, etc. This one is a mention of AmuTech, a pretty big conglomerate in Morgan’s world. They are best known for their computer and robotic work (they make individual parts, like Intel) but also have a car company called Coronado ( ) and a line of household appliances.
In the “Morgan” timeline, this piece of fiction is probably early on, before even book #1. I would say it would be two or three years after she left the corporation she used to work for (I don’t have my notes in front of me so I forget its name 
). I didn’t mean for the ending to happen as it did, but it kind of happened that way. Seth probably should make another appearance sometime, he’s an interesting foil for Morgan’s out-spoken, emotional approach.
Anyway, the short fiction can be found here. Tell me what you think!
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