Writing Holiday, Sort Of

This will be quick.  I have approximately 39 hours to convert two steno pads of notes into my novel, B-24. I already have 25 typed pages―single-spaced, no brakes. So, I figure that between what I have already, plus my notes and some elaboration, I should finish with a respectable page count.

But I have only 39 hours to finish.  Why only 39 hours? Because I am cats/housesitting while my son and his wife are away and on Sunday morning I have to be back at my house. So my weekend of writing will be over. Of course, within that 39 hours I have to fit in some time to sleep and take care of other necessaries, like the cats. Even in the best of situations there will be interruptions.

But enough of that. No more time to waste. From where I left off―

When spring did finally come and recovery teams were able to access the wreckage, they were horrified to discover the mangled remains of the three truckers―Shamus James, Tommy Dodds, and Rhune Evans―as well as Oswald the cook. Only partial remains were recovered for Lilly the waitress and two as yet unidentified men. DNA would no doubt reveal their identities, said the sheriff. And that was pretty much it. It was a terrible, terrible accident resulting from unseasonably bad weather.  No, the coroner couldn’t explain how they all died or ended up torn open and mutilated. But they had no reason to suspect foul play, none at all.

Pique your interest? Mine, too.

*************** Sunday night update.  ********************************

The weekend is over. I didn’t quite finish what I wanted to accomplish, but that’s okay. B-24 now stands at a respectable 22,800 words with a good deal left to add.  Here’s another teaser, where I left off for this round―

Maybe it was a shark and maybe not. Maybe it doesn’t matter because whatever it was swam away. Maybe it was scared away. Maybe something else was out there that even sharks were afraid of.

I hope your weekend was just as productive.

Advertisements

About Kevin_Fraleigh

I am a novelist, and much of my writing is predicated on the concept that within each of us is a hole. For some of us, the hole is a divot, shallow and insignificant. But for many of us the hole is a cavern, deep and expansive. We try to fill it with sex or drugs or religion, but the cavern has an insatiable appetite. This is where the dark things live―the things that fill our nightmares. The things that claw at our minds. The things that inspire the stories of horror, madness, and twisted realities. From the depths of that cavern come the seeds of my stories. Won’t you join me in the dark edges of reality? Learn more about me from my blog at anytomorrow.wordpress.com. You can find my novels at amazon.com, smashwords.com, and most eBook retailers. You can also read some of my full length short stories at http://www.wattpad.com/user/Kevin_Fraleigh
This entry was posted in Description, Editing, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s