It's December, You can come out of your NaNoCocoon now

Did you finish?

Yes, no? Did you at least try? Then congratulations are in order

Chuck Wendig on terribleminds.com (if you have never seen his site, go, read, this post will stil be here when you get done) offered this this morning

"What matters is you. What matters is the work.

And right now, you've got something.

I don't know if it's finished or not. Did you win or lose?

Forget winning and losing."

And really, sure I won, and I got a banner and a printable certificate, and I will get a shirt for Christmas I am sure (the shirts are really cool this year!) but those are merely things.

What I really got is much better than that. Better than fresh out of the oven peanut butter (or if you don't like, or heaven forbid are allergic, chocolate chip, or oatmeal, or sugar, or insert your favorite type of warm cookie here) cookies. Better than most of my Christmas presents'll be. Better than se- nope, but you get the picture. It's pretty damned good.

I got a story, it may not be good yet (I think it is but I have yet to hear opinions other than my own family's, they're a bit biased). I have a piece of rough stone, that when put into the river called editing, can come out as a polished piece, something I might be proud to put on my mantle, or even sell to someone else to put on their mantle.

And it's mine. All mine, well, except for the fact that I am sharing it with the entire f'n internet over on Wattpad. But it is mine, and I am proud of it, and I am going to ride that feeling for a little while.

This is not my time to parrot Chuck (did you click that link above, here it is again if you didn't, terribleminds.com) but he made some good points and offered some good suggestions on what to do now that the whole shindig is over, so go read it.

This is my opportunity to reflect, and I am sure there will be more thoughts as time wages on, but here they go in no particular order:

1) I've still got it. No, i'm not a good writer (maybe I am, but that is not for me to say), what I still have is the desire to be a writer, to be a better writer. The desire to write!

2) Not every story is worth 50k words. Sometimes, you are writing fluff or filler, and you know you are because of that word count. Don't stop! Sometimes a gem will drop into your lap, if you are writing, continue to write, there will a pass or two (or three) where you will trim the fat and change things around, but leave them there to get trimmed, to be changed.

3) Holy shit, writing is hard. Writing is work and it should be treated as such, especially if you want to be a professional about it. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't do it. 

4) Holy shit, writing is fun. And when it stops being fun is when you take a step back and wonder, is it the subject that is not fun, the story, or the task?  If it is the subject, shelf it and pick a different idea. If it is the story, try telling it from a different angle. If it is the task, and you still think you really want to write, examine how you write, where you write. Or maybe, writing is not for you. Not everyone is meant to be driving down the highway behind the wheel of a twenty ton cement mixer either.

5) I've got plenty more ideas in my head. And some of them deserve to come out.

6) I need space to write. I spent quite a bit of time at home this November and writing with a toddler, a wife (who means well mind you, but she has needs, and things to do too) and an infant, as well as two teenagers who want to be driven here or taken there, or would like to know if I'd like to meet their new boyfriend, or yada yada yada, blah blah blah. What this did not give me was the solitude to focus on writing or develop meaningful streaks and momentum. Did the story suffer from it? I don't know, it did offer quite a bit of time for some reflection.

7) I work better with goals and deadlines. Imagine that, but as I look at the chart of my progress, I was behind (see previous bullet for one of the reasons), but I always knew where I was supposed to be, and that, at least in my head made it easier to catch up.

Where do we go from here? I'm not going to link that site again (maybe I should... nah) but my first goal is to relax a bit, maybe take a shower after the brutality that last month was. And then I have a story by the name of Underground Princes to finish while some other people give me some solid feedback on Into the Darkness. Then I will be trimming the fat, combing out it's hair, dressing it up, and overall throwing it into that edit river i mentioned above, so it can get that sheen that I feel this one deserves.

(this post has also been shared over at the Thursdaytales Page in its entirety).

Into The Darkness Chapter 3

Another Chapter in my Young Adult tale. When last we left off, Samantha and Doug's English teacher had mysteriously vanished, and then, inadvertently, the two kids had followed. Check here for the first two chapters

---

Doug ran to his backpack and saw that it was open. His school books were missing, but that did not cause him much concern. His colored pencils and pad were still tucked neatly in their pocket.

“Well?” Samantha asked, staring over his shoulder.

“It’s mine,” he said. “I think it is at least.” Doug pulled out the pad of drawing paper he always had with him. Flipping through the pages, he saw the robot he had drawn the week before, followed by the three different dragon drawings, followed by a picture of him. “I didn’t draw this.” He stared at himself in profile, looking off to the right side of the paper. His sandy blonde hair crowned his freckled brow, the lone blue eye in the drawing, his right as it were, looking down at his fist which was raised to his mouth, thumb extended, almost as if he were about to suck it.

“Do you?” Samantha asked, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a giggle.

“What?” Doug began to ask, “Suck my thumb? No!” He said emphatically.

Smiling widely, she took the pad and flipped to the next page. It was blank. Turning back to the drawing of Doug, she began to examine it more closely. “Look at how your cheek is, all puffed out.”

“Like I am about to blow on my thumb.”

“Yeah. Are you sure you didn’t draw this?”

“No! Besides, my nose isn’t that pointy.”

Samantha giggled again.

“It isn’t!” Doug laughed. “Should I try it?”

“Try what? Oh, don’t be silly.”

Doug smiled sheepishly as he placed the pad back into his bag, “OK.” He made a fist and extended his thumb.

“Don’t you dare!” She said.

“What could it hurt?””

“Well, for one, you’ll look like an idiot.”

“So, if it means we get out of here…”

“And two…uh, it won’t work!”

“So if I do it, I look like an idiot? That’s it?” He inhaled sharply and, sticking his thumb into his mouth, blew with as much force as he could muster.

Samantha had been on a large cruise ship once, but the sound that came from Doug’s hand made the horn on the big boat sound like something a clown would squeeze. The light above them began to sway, and Samantha was knocked to the ground by the sounding blast. “Do I look like an idiot now?” Doug asked her.

She stared wide eyed as a rectangle of light slid open behind him, the shadow of the figure in the doorway falling over them both.

*****

“Ah, good. You’re awake!” The figure said as it pushed a cart into the room.

Doug spun as Samantha took a step forward to stand beside him.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“You may call me Kindrow, care for some food?” The man spread his arms over the cart in front of him before stepping out from behind it.

Samantha’s mouth dropped open. “What…what are you?” She stammered, staring at the chestnut colored hair covering Kindrow’s legs, each ending in a cloven hoof.

“He’s a faun!” Doug exclaimed.

“A faun? What are you talking about?” Samantha shot back.

“You know, like Mr. Tumnus in The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe, you know, Narnia!”

“You read far too much Doug!” She chided.

“And you don’t read enough!” Doug shot back.

Kindrow’s head bobbed back and forth following the conversation, shaking his long mane of hair, revealing a pair of small horns sticking out from his forehead. “Ah Master Doug, you are wrong. I’m a Satyr!”

“Like Pan!”

An exasperated sigh escaped Kindrow’s lips. “Yes, like Pan. Now, did you want something to eat.”

For the first time, the two kids looked at the contents of the cart. In addition to apples, peaches and pears, there was a sliced yellow cheese, some crackers, and what looked like pepperoni. A covered silver dish also sat on the cart.

“What’s under there?” Samantha pointed.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Kindrow lifted the lid, revealing two steaming bowls of soup. “It’s rice and partridge, my special recipe.”

Doug approached the cart and took a cracker, crunching on it noisily as he looked over the rest of the cart. Finishing the cracker, he picked up an apple and took a bite. “Mmm,” he said as juice ran down his chin.

“Wait Doug!” Samantha exclaimed, but he had already tossed the apple off to the side and picked up a spoon, scooping the soup into his open mouth.

“Samantha, try it, it’s amazing!”

Kindrow beamed at the praise for his cooking. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to call again.” He made a horn with his right hand and pretended to blow into it before he walked back out the same way he had come, the rectangle of light closing behind him.

Samantha ran to where the Satyr had disappeared and pounded on the wall. “Wait! You can’t leave us in here! Doug, do something!”

Doug stood at the cart, spooning more of the soup into his open mouth.

“Doug!” Samantha pushed her friend when he did not respond, but the only reaction this drew was that he stepped around her and resumed eating.

Screaming, she tipped the cart over, spilling food every which way.

His meal disturbed, Doug finally shook his head, clearing away the fog that had come over him. “What happened?”

“He’s gone, he left us! We’re stuck again.” Samantha began to sob. “And you just stood there!”

“I couldn’t help it, the food was disgusting! It tasted like dirt, but I couldn’t stop eating it.” He shook his head and shuddered. “Did he say anything before he left?”

“He said to call if we needed anything else.”

Doug made to blow into his thumb again, but Samantha stopped him.

“Wait! What are you doing?”

“We need out, I thought I would ask him.”

“Just ask him?”

“Sure, why not.” He blew into his thumb, and even though she had heard it before, the noise still startled her.

The rectangle in the wall opened again, and Kindrow’s silhouette stood before them.

“Yes?” the Satyr asked.

“We want out!” Doug demanded.”

“Oh, by all means…” Kindrow said, and stepped out of the doorway.

Into The Darkness Chapter 2 Part 2

Doug opened his eyes, and then closed them again.  The effect was the same.  Opening them once more, all he saw was dark.  His cheek lay pressed against something cold, a hand stretched out before him.  It took him a moment to register that he could actually see the hand.  A thought occurred to him and he moved his fingers, tapping the chill ground to make sure that the arm he saw was his.  The hand complied and he watched his fingers dance.

He sat up, his head swimming.  Resting there, Doug took the opportunity to look around.
Dark.

The room around him was dark, or, he reflected as he looked up and noticed a small point of light hanging above him, black.  Flat black.  He could not discern any corners or walls in the room, let alone a doorway.

He jumped at a noise behind him.  Cautiously he rose to his feet and turned around, afraid of what he might find.  Laying on the floor, about five feet from him, her coppery hair covering her face, lay Samantha.  Well, Doug thought, no hoped, it was Samantha, he would not be sure until he saw her freckled face.  Slowly, he crept up to the stirring form.  He reached down to brush the hair from her face just as she sat up.

“Doug!” She exclaimed.

He screamed.

She screamed and then cried, the skin around her hazel eyes quickly becoming puffy.

“Hey Sam.  It is you isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she stammered as her sobs subsided.  “Are you Doug?”

“Yeah.”

She stood up and hugged him.  “Where are we?”  Quickly, she stepped back, and straightening her black t-shirt, looked around.

“I’m not sure.”  He tried his best to not sound scared but fear caused his voice to quake slightly.

“Are there any walls?  She picked a direction and walked.  “Ow!” she said after four steps.  “Ok, there is a wall here.”

“How can you tell?” He asked. 

Her only response was a glare.  She was not going to admit she walked into a wall, even if she could not see it.  Hands out before her she walked along the wall, her right shoulder brushing up against it.  Soon her hands flattened against another wall.  “I found a corner.”

“Cool,” he watched what she did and carefully set off in the direction opposite from which she had gone, his hands outstretched.  He found a wall paced beside it, his right hand rubbing the wall while his left sought a corner.  So intent was he on the walls that he bumped into Samantha.

“Hey, watch it!”

“Sorry.”  He said sheepishly.

“I don’t get it, did you find a door?” She asked.

“No, did you?”

“No.”  Defeated, Samantha turned and leaned against the wall, sliding down it until her bottom hit the ground.  As she hung her head, the lone light in the room flared, blinding them both.

Frantically Doug rubbed his eyes, trying to restore the vision to them.  Finally able to see again, he glanced around.

Under the light sat what appeared to be his backpack.

Into the Darkness Excerpt

 An excerpt from a young adult book I have started.  A little long for a Thursday tale, but this is chapter one and part of chapter two.  Let me know what you think.

---

CHAPTER ONE

The Teacher goes Missing

Doug sat down in his normal seat in the last row of the classroom. He dug through his backpack until he found his colored pencils. Mr. Garrett was writing on the board, but class was not for another fifteen minutes and Doug was not ready to start school work.

Mr. Garrett taught english in Doug's first period class and they had just finished reading The Jungle Book. Doug had not liked it, it was too much of a kid's book for him, he thought as he worked on drawing the dragon from the book he was reading.

"Hey, whatcha drawing?" Samantha asked, looking over Doug's shoulder.

"It's this white dragon Drizzt had to kill to find this sword..."

Sam tuned Doug out but continued to watch her friend draw. As the first bell of school drew near, Mr. Garrett pulled down the projection screen, covering what he had been writing.

The bell rang and after all of the students had finally settled down, Mr. Garrett stood up and told the class that to celebrate finishingThe Jungle Book, they were going to watch the movie over the next three days.

A couple of kids groaned, a few cheered, and Sam put her head down on her desk, her long auburn hair spilling everywhere.

"Doug," she started, "Wake me up when class is over."

"K," Doug replied, continuing to draw his dragon.

Mr. Garrett walked back to his desk, picked up a remote control, and pressed a button. The projector hummed to life and the opening scene of The Jungle Book played to the class.

After a few minutes, Jakob, who sat in front of Doug stood up and walked to the back of the room.
Of the eighteen students in the classroom, only two, Doug and Sam, shared the same story as to what happened next.

And their story was, "I didn't see anything."

What really happened was this...

Jakob stood up and walked to the back of the classroom, where, after saying he couldn't see, he flipped the light switch to the off position.

Mr. Garrett shouted "NO!" and then shrieked. A loud thud sounded as the screen rolled back into the ceiling, revealing what the teacher had been writing on the board.

Jakob flipped the light back on, but it was too late. Mr. Garrett was gone. The only sign that he had even been there was his coat hanging on the back of his chair, and his last message to his students, written in the curly handwriting that he had always used.

Don't turn off the lights.

Light is the absence of darkness.

<<<<<>>>>>

The principal closed school for the day, while the adults tried to figure out what had happened.
As Doug and Samantha walked home, they were talking about the math they had missed.

"Do you think that Mrs. Jones will make us take that quiz tomorrow? I hope not. I hate algebra." Samantha made a face to show her disgust, and Doug laughed at her.

"I do. I hate algebra," she repeated.

"What do you think happened to him?" Doug asked, kicking a small rock that was on the sidewalk. It skipped away as Samantha responded.

"Who?'

Doug stopped and stared at her.

"Oh, you mean Mr. Garrett?" She frowned. "I don't know, maybe aliens took him."

"Come on Sam, be serious, how did he just disappear? I heard the police went to his house already."

"Did they find anything?"

"I don't think so," Doug said.

"Why aren't you in school?" A Silver van pulled up beside the two kids.

"Hi mom," said Samantha. "They closed school after Mr. Garrett went missing."

"Your English teacher?"

"Yeah." Doug nodded.

"Oh my god, what happened?"

"They don't know, Mrs. Thomson." Doug answered his friend's mother.

"Get in, you're coming home." Mrs. Thomson turned her attention to her daughter.
Samantha knew better than to argue and opened the sliding door, climbing across the seat to sit behind her mother.

"You too Doug, I'll drop you off."

"Thank you Mrs. Thomson," Doug got in and buckled his seatbelt.

"How'd your algebra quiz go?" Samantha's mom asked.

"Fine," Samantha responded at the same time that Doug said "We didn't take it."

"Samantha!" Mrs. Thomson had a way of making her daughters name sound like a threat.

"Fine, we didn't take it, Mr. Garrett disappeared during our class." Samantha sighed.

"Oh." Was the only response that was offered and the three people rode silently to their homes.

"Thanks again Mrs. Thomson," Doug said as he shut the sliding door to the van. He ran up the lawn his townhouse shared with its neighbor and retrieved the key that was stuck to the underside of a rock hidden amidst his mother's rose garden.

Unlocking the door, he stuck the key back to the rock and tossed it into the roses. He went to his room and hung the dragon next to the other pictures he had drawn. There was a one-eyed minotaur with a giant axe standing over four shadowy figures. Next to that were six different dragons, one of which was impaled upon a knight's lance. He set his backpack down at his desk, picked up the book he was reading, Icewind Dale, and lay on his bed, reading for the rest of the day. His parents hadn't heard about Mr. Garrett's disappearance, and at supper Doug told them as much as he remembered the other kids telling him.

Afterward, he went back to his room and spent some time looking over his math so he would be ready for the quiz in case Mrs. Jones still made them take it.

His mind kept wandering back to the book he was reading, and pretty soon he had fallen asleep at his desk.

"DOUG!" his mom called up the stairs to him, awakening him with a start.

"Yes!" he called back.

"Bed time."

"Ok, mom," He got up, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and ran down the stairs to kiss his mom and dad good night. This done, he ran back upstairs and leapt into bed.

He shut the light next to his bed off and grabbed his flashlight, ducking completely under the covers so he could read more without his parents catching him. While he was reading, he thought he heard a scratching sound in his room and jumped, throwing the covers off of him.

He looked around, but the only thing he saw was the large oak tree tapping against his bedroom's only window. Doug chuckled to himself and ducked underneath the covers again to read more.

The flashlight still lit the tent he had created for himself when his alarm went off the next morning. Untangling himself from his blankets, he stood up and walked over to his desk, where his clock was. He silenced the alarm and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He glanced at the wall and noticed that his new dragon was missing. In its place hung a picture of a man he did not remember drawing.

It was of Mr. Garrett. On the back, in his teacher's handwriting, it said

Help Me!

 They took me into the darkness.

CHAPTER TWO

Into the Darkness

Doug showed the picture to Samantha when they met to walk to school.

"That's pretty good, did you draw it from memory?" She asked.

"I didn't draw it." Doug replied, his eyes wide.

"Then who..where did you...how?"

"It was hanging on my wall this morning when I woke up. Look." Doug flipped the paper over and showed the note to his best friend.

"Is that....from him?" She held the paper, staring hard at the words. "What's he mean, into the darkness?"

"Well, while I was getting ready for school this morning I was thinking about it."

"Yeah," Samantha raised her eyebrows. "And?" She prodded.

"Well, remember last semester when we got Mr. Gander to talk about aliens for an entire period?" Doug could not help but smile at the memory of how animated their science teacher had become during that conversation.

"You mean when he told us that the speed of light was impossible to reach? I still don't get what he meant."

"Well what he was saying..." Doug got distracted but caught himself. "Wait, later. Do you remember Mr. Gander saying that darkness is the absence of light?"

"Yeah...and thats what Mr. Garrett had on the board...No, his said the opposite."

"Yeah, what if it WAS aliens, and Mr. Gander had been wrong? What if it is the speed of dark that they travelled?"

"Don't be silly Doug, there's no such things as aliens. Mr. Gander was right about that."

"Then maybe something came out of the dark and grabbed him?"

"You're still being silly. You read too much of that science fiction. Maybe it was a dragon..." She stuck her tongue out at Doug as she said this. "Look, the police will figure it out. Are you sure you didn't draw this just to creep me out? It looks like one of your drawings."

Doug took the picture back from her as they walked up to the front door of the school. "No, I didn't draw it. I promise."

Samantha shook her head. "Where do we go now? Do you think they will have a substitute? Anyways, I have to go to my locker, I will see you in class."

Doug watched her walk down the hallway before he headed to the classroom that had been the site of the previous day's fuss. A sign on the door told him and the rest of his class to go down the hall to room 405B where Ms. Jackson would allow them to finish watching the movie with her class, and she would also take attendance.

He stood by the door and waited for Samantha to show up, determined to talk to her more about what he thought took Mr. Garrett. While he waited, curiosity got the better of him and he tried the room's door. It was unlocked.

"Hey Doug!" It was Jakob. "Whatcha doing?"

"Just waiting on Sam. How you doing?" Doug removed his hand from the door handle and turned to face Jakob.

"Oh, you know. You coming to class?'

"Yeah, as soon as Samantha shows up, we'll see you there." Doug smiled and pulled his book out of his backpack, hoping that Jakob would get the hint. He did, and Doug quickly read the last five pages of the story, closing the book as Samantha walked up.

"So, we get to go sit in Ms. Jackson's class?" She read the note on the door.

"Yeah, but hold on a sec." Before she could argue, Doug had opened the door and was inside. Samantha followed him out of sheer habit.

"Doug," she hissed. "What are you doing?"

"I just wanted to look around. So, what happened in here?"

"Well, I was asleep, and Mr. Garrett screaming woke me up."

"Yeah, and I was working on the dragon." He referred to the drawing that was now missing from his bedroom. "And then Jakob got up, and switched off the lights." Doug walked over to the light switch, pantomiming Jakob's walk. He reached up, and before Samantha could say a word, he turned off the lights.

Samantha screamed.

Doug immediately turned the lights back on and Samantha glared at him. "Douglas Stanley Smith!"

Doug laughed. "All I was saying was that Jakob flipped the lights off." He flicked the switch again. This time Samantha made no sound.

"And then Mr. Garrett screamed," he turned the lights back on, and was alone.

"Samantha? This isn't funny!" He bent down and began to look underneath the desks, but Sam was no where to be found. "Sam, I get it, I'm sorry. You can come out now." His lip quivered as he got back to the only door to the classroom, right next to the light switch. He opened the door and peered out into the hallway, but Sam was not out there either. Quietly he shut the door again, closing himself in the classroom. He sat down against the wall and hung his head. What had he done? he thought to himself.

Doug spent a few minutes psyching himself up before he stood up and turned the lights off again.