Still There

 Even though I haven't been writing full time lately, that doesn't mean my characters aren't in my head at all. Every once in a while, one of them wanders in to say hello. Here's one of them:

Reggie Hawkins decided that if he kept his head down, he didn’t have to acknowledge that he was alone. He studied the label on his beer, which hadn’t changed since the last time he studied it, and took another drink. It didn’t taste any better than the solitude.

He finally shifted his gaze down the long wooden bar to where the bartender was wiping the same glass he’d been wiping for the past half hour. It must be hard to look busy when there was no one around. Maybe he was just waiting for Hawkins to leave so he could drop the pretense.

Hawkins had thought that some of his crewmates might come down, but it was getting late and that looked unlikely. He really ought to return to his room, but it wasn’t any better than this place, although the bed was probably a little more comfortable than the bar stool.

He took another drink, unsure why he’d come down here in the first place. Maybe he’d thought there’d be people here and he could find something in their chatter that didn’t exist on the television or his phone. It was a good thing the ship was scheduled to leave the next morning or who knows what he would have tried next.

He picked at the label, which really wasn’t a label since they’d gone to etching to save on paper. The trees were probably happy, except that they were no doubt used for something worse, like toilet paper. He bet they’d rather be beer labels.

Hawkins sighed. The truth was that he missed Nick Bartucci. He had no shortage of friends—on and off the ship—but no two friends are alike and he missed the one who was Nick.

The memory made him realize there were two things he needed to do: decide if he’d have trouble being aboard Penumbra when Nick wasn’t there … and get over it.

It still took him by surprise when some random thought pierced his brain and he was brought up short, as if walking into a wall that he hadn’t seen there. It made him shake his head, wondering why the memories wouldn’t leave him alone. They could be caused by anything, really: a laugh, something irritating, a baseball cap he spotted on a passerby. It didn’t seem to matter. Each time, he felt a sharp dig in his midsection, followed by shortness of breath and sometimes a coughing fit. A few seconds later, all seemed normal.

Sometimes Hawkins recalled a memory on purpose, just to avoid the surprise, but it still affected him the same way. And this had been going on for a few months. It was time to get past the whole thing.

He just didn’t know how to do that.

Hawkins turned his head. The bartender had set down the glass and stood at attention, gazing at the front of the bar as if he’d seen a miracle. Seconds later, the sound of voices told Hawkins what had caused the reaction. Three young people, two men and a woman, sailed into the room and docked at the bar, where they placed cheerful orders and carried on a lively conversation. Drinks in hand, they barely considered their options before selecting a booth a few meters from Hawkins, apparently unaware of him or the bartender smiling at them.

Hawkins offered his own smile at the beer bottle as he listened to the animated chatter, punctuated by laughter and occasional mock outrage. His muscles relaxed and his spine straightened a bit. After a while, he was ready to go upstairs and try to sleep.

“Hey,” he said as he reached for his phone.

The bartender gave him grudging attention.

“Put their first round on mine,” Hawkins said.

The bartender nodded and poked a few buttons on his monitor.

Hawkins saw the balance change on the little screen built into the bar next to his bottle. He tapped some information into his phone to increase the balance to include a hefty tip. Then he tapped the phone against the screen and put it away, which he also did with the last of the beer.

Then he headed to get some sleep before the next day's flight.

What a Year

 Amazingly enough, it looks like we're about to make it through 2020. Sadly, a lot of people didn't, so I must mention them as a matter of respect. I'm very sorry to their families and friends in what has been such a difficult year.

Right now, we're just starting to hear about the new vaccine and it's starting to be administered to health-care workers in this country. I'm so glad those heroes will now be protected! It is unimaginable to me what their year has been like and I'm glad to see an end in sight for their hard work and anguish.

Now we're faced with the possible end of the pandemic. We've had to get used to it for about nine months and now we'll have to get used to life without it. I know the part about "life without the pandemic" will be easy, but what about the rest of it? I find myself a little concerned about what has changed permanently. How many bricks-and-mortar stores will never come back? Will we be able to sit down in a restaurant? Is it true what I've read, that theatres are a thing of the past? (I doubt it, but I don't know.) Will there be a DH in the NL? What else will be different that I haven't even considered?

I'm silly enough that I'll partially miss wearing a mask sometimes. It sure keeps my face warm on these cold mornings, but more than that, it gives me a barrier against the world. Remember: I'm an introvert. Sometimes I want to retreat, and the mask makes it easier to do that in some situations. Besides, if I want to make a face but don't want anyone to see it, the mask helps!

I think sometimes about last year and how ignorant I was. I had no idea that such a thing as a global epidemic was possible in these modern times. It's yet another example of Mother Nature, or whatever/whoever you believe, giving us a reminder that we aren't omnipotent or omniscient. We've made great strides as a species, but we're still vulnerable.

I learned a lot about human nature, too. Man, I had no idea that such large groups of people could be so stubborn. I don't want to open up a great debate (which I wouldn't anyway because no one reads this blog), but I was sad to see how many people refused to wear a mask. Obviously, there were those with legitimate health reasons, but I mean the other people. You know who you are. It's not a symbol of oppression; it's a symbol of concern for your fellow human! I see that you have none. Enough said.

And in the middle of this, I published a novel. You might think I'm crazy. You might be right. My thinking was this: I wanted to get it done, no matter when it was. And I did realize that more people were reading, so I thought maybe my novel would have a better chance. That didn't happen (I think I've sold four), but at least I gave it the opportunity.

My fantasy is that one of these days, someone will read one of them and actually like it. Maybe even love it. Then they'll discover that it's a series and read the whole thing. And still like it! And then they'll post a good review somewhere. And then they'll tell their friends. And then a lot of people will read these novels that mean so much to me, and they'll meet my characters, whom I happen to like quite a bit. That would be fun. I've always thought it would be amazing to see a few people debating some small aspect of one of the novels. Or something like that. (I dream small.)

Anyway, I'm mostly just rambling here. It's been such a crazy year and I feel hard-pressed to say anything about it that doesn't sound ridiculous. I keep thinking that I could never write anything as "out-there" as this year has been, so what's worth writing about? I'm sure I'll come up with something someday, perhaps once the oddity of 2020 has started to fade in my memory.

I hope your year has been all right and your friends/family are safe. Here's looking forward to 2021.

Take care.

Finally

You might not believe it, but the fifth novel of the Penumbra series is now out!

Here's a look at the amazing cover by Nicole Smith:

It's now available on Amazon. There were a few glitches getting it there, which is why I didn't post here right away, but I think most of it is fixed. I see that the "Look Inside" feature isn't yet working for the paperback version, but I hope that will be functional soon.

Wow. I hardly know what to say. I'm very excited to finally get this done, but I'm sorry it's in the middle of a pandemic. I don't know if anyone is buying physical books anymore, but maybe the Kindle version will do well. Who knows?

At this point, I can say that this will be my last novel for a while. As sad as that makes me, I have to acknowledge that I don't have anything else written right now and life is so strange that my imagination feels a little insignificant.

I love my characters with all my heart. I know that they'll live on in my head, and maybe someday they'll have another adventure that I think is worth writing. If so, you'll be the first to know! For now, please enjoy the five novels I've released ... and please write a review if you read any of them. Reviews are very important in getting a novel noticed!

I'm going to try to promote this novel and then I'll consider whether I'll continue this blog or not. I suspect that I will because I don't want it to disappear, but I've learned that what I think about the future isn't always the case. 

Thank you so much for reading the blog. I've tried to be honest and not ridiculous, to give some advice and some insights, to share what I've gone through. I've written some posts on my life outside writing, so maybe I'll continue with that. It remains to be seen.

You can always check out my Facebook page for more information: Diane's Facebook Page

Thanks for your support. Stay safe!

Trust Your Readers

Part of your job as a writer is to set the scene, to explain to the reader what is happening, but you need to be careful: unnecessary information can be distracting … and sometimes annoying!

For example, if I wrote that Hawkins went to the starboard side of Penumbra and then I added an explanation that the starboard side is the right side of the ship, my readers would roll their eyes and sigh. Yes, Diane, we already know that. If they didn’t know that, I apologize, but they can certainly look it up. That’s what Google is for, right?

How many times have you read a story and wondered why the writer insisted on telling you things you already know? It’s simple: the writer doesn’t trust you.

This includes the distracting facts that tell you the writer is simply showing off: how fast light travels, how many bones are in the human body, what the square root of 3,472 is. Most of the time, the reader doesn’t need to know these facts to appreciate the story. Only if it is directly relevant—for example, the forensic scientist found 202 adult bones, so four are missing—should these little tidbits be included. It’s never a bad thing for a writer to know these facts, but it’s in bad form to include them in the story when they’re not needed.

It’s also bad when you tell the reader things that he/she should be able to figure out from what’s happening in the scene.

For example:

    Bobby kicked open the door and hurled his keys across the

room. He muttered under his breath as he slammed the door

shut and flung himself into a chair.

    Katrina appeared in the bedroom doorway. “What—?”

    “Shut up. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Now let me ask you this: what is Bobby’s mood at this point? Do I need to tell you or can you figure it out for yourself?

How about this?

Bobby slammed the door. He was angrier than he’d ever been.

Katrina appeared in the bedroom doorway. “What—?”

“I’m so mad at Joe!” Bobby shouted.

In this case, I’d be a little ticked off myself, mostly because the writer doesn’t trust me enough to figure out Bobby is mad on my own. As a reader, I never appreciate it when the writer decides to spell out the obvious for me.

I admit that it’s a fine line. Sometimes you’ll need to step back and pretend you’ve never seen this scene before; then decide if everything you’ve included needs to be there. You could also have someone else read the scene and tell you what can stay and what should go.

When in doubt, though, trust your readers.

Reconnecting

I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I made my usual trek up to Nebraska to spend time with my family, which makes this one of my favorite holidays. I love my family and I'm always glad when I get to reconnect with them.

During this time, I was able to ask someone who grew up on a farm about how corn grows. At first I was afraid to look dumb, but then I asked the question anyway ... and I got a useful answer. This might not seem important to you, but it was huge for me: the reason I asked about corn is that I'm trying to write a scene involving some characters running around in a cornfield.

That's right: I'm writing a scene! After over a year, I'm starting to reconnect with my characters. There was a dog named Nick in the National Dog Show and I immediately thought of my pilot. I'm starting to think about asking Reg's advice again. I'm trying to look at problems through Lamont's eyes.

What a relief. There were times I thought this would never happen again. It doesn't mean that I'm going to sit down and write my whole fifth novel next week, but now I really am beginning to believe there's a good chance it will get finished.

To those of you who write, I know you've probably gone through writer's block before. Maybe you're going through it now. Believe me, I know how scary it is when you think you're never going to write anything more than an email again ... but I'm here to tell you this: you will get past it! Just keep trying, just keep hoping, just keep writing (even if the result is awful). Remember what it is about your characters or story that excited you in the first place.

I have to laugh at the timing. I'm ready to get to work again, just as I'm getting hit with holiday decorating, gift-planning, baking, parties, etc. But I don't mind. Writing is a gift and I'm going to take some time to unwrap it again.

Have a magical holiday season.

Update on the Fifth Novel

It occurs to me that this blog is supposed to help you keep track of where I am on my novels, but it's kind of hard for you to do that if I don't post updates once in a while!
So here goes ...

The fifth novel, which does not have a title that I want to share yet, has a long way to go. This weekend I finally started to break part of it into chapters so that it's not just one big lump of story. I've done some other minor formatting, but it doesn't have headers yet.

The biggest problem is the story itself. I had a story written, but it's too short and the beginning is horribly boring. Because of this, I decided I needed to add something to the beginning, and that's where I've gotten myself in trouble. It turns out that it's very hard to add onto the beginning of a story because you have to come up with stuff that not only fits in with what's already written but also doesn't mess with the themes or give away anything that's coming later in the story. That's hard!

I also find that it's hard to write toward something that's finished. In other words, I'm used to writing with no particular ending in mind, which gives me a lot more freedom. Right now, I'm limited on where the story can go or what the characters can do, and that's had a negative effect on the writing itself. I wrote myself into several dead ends and had to backtrack to get where I wanted to be.

I like most of what I've written and I think I can make all of this work, but there's still a lot to be done. Because of that, I'm not very far along. I'm sorry to say that, because it makes a potential reader a little exasperated, I'm sure.

I am working on it, though! I spent quite a bit of time this weekend on the novel, which felt incredibly good after my long bout of writer's block, so I'm confident that this novel will see the light of day.

We'll just have to see when I can finish it, but I think that's a lot better than having to see if it will happen.

In the meantime, if you'd post a review of any of my novels, I'd really appreciate it! Please be honest if you do so. You can post a review on Amazon, Goodreads or wherever you prefer.

Thanks! And thanks for reading my blog.

Closet Spaceship Part 19

I was looking for Reggie when Tim Caswell spotted me in the corridor of Penumbra.

“Hey,” he said.

I winced, hoping he’d forgotten our last talk. “Hi.”

He laughed. “Caught you.”

“I was actually looking for Reg …”

“Is it important?” he asked.

“What?” I said. “Uh, well, no, I guess not. Not really.”

Sometimes I have to stop to admire how articulate I can be. This was not one of those times.

“Good,” Tim said. “Then it can wait.”

He beckoned and led me into the radio station, where we sat down in some chairs a few meters away from the microphone.

I fidgeted a little, wishing I could hear the song that was playing throughout the ship so I could lose myself in the words or the instruments, but he’d turned down the volume so it was inaudible. I looked at the blinking lights on the control panel, the crumpled candy wrapper on the floor next to the wastebasket, a scuff mark on the floor that looked like a bent cactus.

In short, I did almost everything but ask him what I wanted to ask.

Tim might not spend a lot of time around people, but he’s not dumb.

“You want me to find Reg for you?” he asked.

“No, thanks,” I said. “I can’t ask him any more than I can ask you.”

“Ask us what?”

“What’s going to happen?” I slouched down in my chair. “Don’t answer that.”

“Happen where?” Tim asked.

“In my novel. In my life. In the U.S. Everywhere.”

When I saw the puzzled look on his face, I added, “Sorry. Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“I can’t tell you anything,” Tim said, “but maybe I could walk out of here and leave the database unlocked.”

I shook my head. “I’m trying not to get you fired.”

“Okay, so what set this off?”

“A lot of stuff. Amazingly enough, having the Cubs win the World Series didn’t solve the world’s problems. Or mine, although it made them a little less obvious for a while there.”

Tim started to say something, but then he shut up.

“No,” I said. “You can’t say whether they did it again. Why am I even having this conversation?”

“So you won’t have to tell me about the cubicle?”

I laughed, which felt good.

“If I did walk out of here,” Tim asked, “would you look?”

“No,” I said without hesitation. I’ve always had a fear of knowing the future, because if it’s not good, I can’t do a thing about it. If I don’t know, I can still hope for the best. “Would you?”

He thought about it for a while. “No, I guess not. But I do know this: you’re not going to tell me about working in a cubicle.”

“Not if I can help it,” I said. “You’re better off not knowing.”

“It’s funny,” Tim said. “I’m not a big fan of secrets, but we can both keep ours: don’t ever tell me and we’ll be even.”

“It’s a deal,” I said.

I can hope for the best, but will I?

I’ll try.

Unwriting

Writer's Block.

The mere phrase strikes terror in the hearts of writers everywhere. Nobody wants to think about it, but it happens to all of us.

I have several methods to deal with it. I go for walks so I can think. I listen to my favorite music. I read books by other people. I reread my own books (to remind myself that I can do this).

Lately, though, I've recognized that something else is called for. This one took me a long time to figure out when I first started writing.

Here's what's happening: I write a few sentences and then it's as if my characters stop and look at me to ask what's next. I write a few more sentences and they stop again. They're not running out ahead of me like they usually do. They're looking at me as if to ask, "What are you doing?"

After this has happened several times, I finally admit it to myself: they're doing this because something is wrong. If I can't figure out what happens next, it means I'm not happy with where I am. Somehow, I've gotten off track and I shouldn't be here.

So I do one of the hardest things for a writer: I "unwrite." In my case, that involves cutting and pasting text into a Rejects file, in case I want to use some of it later. Basically, it means removing a big section of what I've written most recently. That hurts, especially when I've been battling writer's block and I'm so proud of myself for actually writing something, anything. It has to be done, though. My characters are telling me that they shouldn't be here, so I have to take them back to where we went wrong and start again.

This has worked for me in the past. I think my subconscious recognizes that I went astray at some point, and I just have to figure out when that was and correct it. Once I get it right, my characters usually run out ahead of me again and we're all on track together.

Meanwhile, I've also recognized a major plot mistake in this novel, so I'll be trying to correct that.

All in a day's work for a writer.



Thanks for reading my blog. Feel free to post comments. Happy 2017!

Shaken

By now you've probably heard about the earthquake in Oklahoma this morning. It was 5.6, centered a little north of Pawnee, OK, and we felt it in Pittsburg, KS. I was in bed when it felt like a strong person had grabbed the frame and was shaking it vigorously. I could hear items on the dresser rattling. My brain ruled out a passing truck and something hitting our house before it settled on "earthquake." It shook us a little, but no damage was done.

I've also been a little shaken figuratively.

When I first published Outsider, I thought I'd probably sell about three or four copies, mostly to family members. To my amazement, the people at work were excited to hear I'd been published. They lined up to buy the book and asked for my autograph. One even wanted to have her picture taken with me. This was followed by a whirlwind of books signings and an interview for the local newspaper.

Hindsight now tells me the truth: they thought "published" was the same as "famous." They thought I was already there ... and after a while, I believed it, too.

Lately, with book sales at zero, I've realized that we were mistaken. I'm not a failure, because I have four books published, but I'm not really successful either.

That's okay. Not everyone can be Stephen King or J.K. Rowling and I'm fine with that. The problem is that I spent too much time worrying that I didn't try hard enough or wasn't good enough ... and that's dried up my writing. That's not okay.

I'm going to try to go back to that feeling I first had when I saw Outsider pop up on amazon.com: happy and excited. I'm going to try to reacquaint myself with my characters. I might try to introduce myself to some new characters. Most of all, I want to reorient my thinking so that I don't obsess over how many books I've sold and instead concentrate on the joy of writing. That's what matters to me.

I was a little shaken, but I hope no damage was done.

Three Years

Believe it or not, today marks the three-year anniversary of this blog! (It doesn't look like it because my first official post was July 28, 2013, but that's because I accidentally deleted the first post from July 23! I was off to a great start there.)

It's hard for me to believe that I've written posts weekly for that long. It's hard to believe I found that much to say. I don't consider myself particularly thoughtful or opinionated, so it makes me wonder what all of those posts were about! Ha.

I would like to thank you if you've read one, all or some of my posts. I'm not exactly sure how many readers I have out there, but I thank all of you.

Here's the latest news on Diane McCallum and the Penumbra series. My fourth novel, The Other Side, is published and awaiting copyright registration. It's also in the local bookstore, Spellbound, so be sure to check it out! There is a fifth novel, but it needs so much work that I can assure you it will not be out for more than a year. I have a tentative title, but it might be a while before I release that.

I intend to release news about the fifth novel when I feel there's something worth mentioning.

However, the weekly blog is going to have to stop. I'm very sorry, but I am truly running out of things to say! When I have a novel that I'll be releasing soon, that keeps the ideas coming and I don't have any trouble writing a blog, but when there's no novel scheduled, that leaves a bit of a void (especially in my brain!). I've spent three years pushing to get the word out there and I won't just stop, but I have to take a break. That way I can spend more time on the fifth novel.

Please be assured that this blog won't die. If a certain team wins a certain series, you'll probably hear something about that. If a thought strikes me, I'll share it, whether you want to know or not! When there's progress on the next novel, I'll let you know that, too. My goal is to write something at least once a month. If I find that I'm posting at a particular time of the month, I'll let you know, but I'm afraid I can't give you any specifics right now. You can also follow me on my Facebook page: DianeMcCallumAuthor

Please keep spreading the word to your friends and family about the Penumbra series. I'd love to share my novels with a lot of people. My dream is to have people discussing the characters and plot (especially if I get to hear the discussion).

Thank you again for reading this blog and putting up with me. I will try to post again next week, just to round it out, and then we'll see what happens. Please check back!

Break It Up

I read a book last week that had a very complex but interesting plot, as well as characters that seemed well-rounded. It was a thriller and it kept me reading throughout, even though it was 400 or so pages. When I put it down, I thought that I might like to read more by the author, except for one thing: I don't want to wade through conversations that are very hard to follow anymore.

It's a shame, but we all have to decide where to concentrate our reading, since there are SO MANY books out there. Maybe I'm being unfair to this writer, but it's also not fair to read a book while thinking how frustrated I am with the writing. So I'll spare the writer further denigration. (Obviously, I'm not going to name the writer here.)

I've already written a blog about how to use "he/she said" and here it is: He/She Said

Now I'm going to expand on the fourth method: not using "said" at all.

This is my own example that I just made up, but it gives an idea of what I was seeing:

     "You can't do that." She took a step back and frowned.

Who do you think made that statement? "She," right? Wrong! In several cases, the writer would have a statement like that and follow it immediately with the listener's reaction in the same paragraph.

Please don't do this to your readers! I was forced several times to go back to where "Jack said" told me who was speaking. Then I had to count lines down to this statement to find that Jack said it and his girlfriend was reacting to Jack saying it. Very confusing!

The solution is so simple:                                 Or even better:
     "You can't do that."                                         "You can't do that," Jack said.
     She took a step back and frowned.                 She took a step back and frowned.

Whenever you have two people speaking and reacting to the other's statements, please make it clear who is speaking and who is reacting. You don't have to use "Jack said" on every other line, but don't mix characters. If the statement is made by one person and then another person speaks or reacts, put that in a separate paragraph.

Give it a try. Your readers will thank you.

Why Sci-Fi

Ha. I chose science fiction just so I could have that cool rhyming title someday.

I've had people at work tell me they're astonished to find that I have all these stories of remote planets, spaceships and wormholes in my head. I guess that tells you how boring I am in real life, since they're so surprised by it.

But how did I choose science fiction as the genre for my series?

Part of it is because of Ray Bradbury, my greatest inspiration, but I can't attribute it all to him. For one thing, he didn't write only science fiction. He had a story to tell and he didn't particularly worry about the genre. Wherever the story led him, that's where he went. This is also true for me.

I've always been drawn to science fiction, though. Some of my favorite movies are in that genre and I like the freedom it offers. (That seems appropriate for Independence Day weekend, doesn't it?)

Besides that, I'd already ruled out a few genres. I don't have the money to travel around the planet so I can describe various locations effectively. I enjoy historical fiction, but I've never been particularly strong at history. I don't have the patience to write a romance. I didn't want to spend years on research.

Don't get me wrong: I did have to do research. I had to learn a lot about wormholes (thank you, Kip Thorne), spaceships, microgravity, etc. I have a lot of geeky physics books on my shelves. But once I'd done that, it was pretty easy (and cheap) to travel to distant planets: I just had to close my eyes (even that is optional) and dream.

When you think about it, the genre is only a small part of the equation. There have to be strong characters, a compelling story and a few ideas guiding the whole thing. If you don't have those, the genre will be irrelevant.

At some point, though, I did make a conscious decision. I think it was about the time I discovered Sean aboard a spaceship heading to a prison colony. I'd been toying with several ideas, but that one seemed to speak to me the most so I went with it.

And I've never looked back.

Happy Independence Day tomorrow! Thanks for reading.

What to Expect

Now that The Other Side is published, I thought I'd tell you a little more about it. (Don't worry, I won't tell everything! There are some spoilers here, though, so read on at your own discretion.)

First of all, I have a new cover artist. Her name is Nicole Smith, of Jasper Design Studio. I wanted to try something new for this cover and she was eager to oblige. I think the resulting image captures some of what goes on in this novel.

So what does go on in this novel? Well, first of all, I want to caution you that this one is a little "out there." What I mean by that is that I stretched a bit, I pushed myself a little further than I thought I would.

When I wrote Outsider, I resolved that I would try to avoid certain "cliches" of science fiction. I even had Sean come up with some ideas about space ("purple aliens, flashy spaceships soaring past brilliant planets, glittering asteroid showers") and then I wrote "but he had yet to actually see any of it" because I didn't think any of my characters would. Some writers are able to make the more common aspects of sci-fi work admirably, but I was afraid I didn't have the skill to do so. Because of that, I vowed I'd never have humanoid aliens, gigantic spaceships or a huge evil empire ruling the universe. I mostly managed to avoid those, but I didn't manage to avoid one topic that I didn't think I'd ever approach: alien life.

I guess I should have known better when I had to come up with an explanation for the wormhole construction. Obviously, humans in the near future wouldn't have the capability for such a project, so I just wrote it off as aliens building them. That sealed my fate. I thought I could just ignore the builders, because they were too far away or too ancient, but it didn't work out that way. (Besides, there was the enigmatic Chapter 8 of Another Shot.) After a great deal of struggle, I decided to confront them ... which meant I had to figure out who/what they were.

How many books and movies have been created about aliens? How could I possibly do anything new with the idea? What did I want to do with them? I don't even know if I consciously thought all of these questions, but they were certainly present when I tackled this subject. I can't say I've done anything remarkably different, but I tried to avoid some of the worst cliches. Some of the problems I have with aliens in movies is that they're all humanoid, often cute (or murderous) and easily able to converse with humans. The two species interact with no trouble whatsoever. I realize that this is all creative license and I don't blame the moviemakers because a lot of those movies are entertaining to watch, but I didn't think I could write something like that. I didn't want E.T. or the face-grabbers of "Aliens." I didn't want Superman or little gray beings.

I'll leave it to you, the reader, to decide if I came up with something that works.

I will tell you this: I gave a nod to two of my favorite sci-fi movies in The Other Side, so see if you can find both of the references!

There are a few other things in this novel that I didn't expect when I wrote Outsider, but I'll leave it to you to discover the rest.

I hope you'll enjoy the novel! (If you buy it on Amazon, please be kind enough to leave a review.)

Thanks for reading!

Closet Spaceship Part 18

(NOTE: This post refers to events from In The Shadows. I hope you've read it!)

Everyone needs a private place, a place to think one’s thoughts and escape the world for a while. For many of us, that’s home … so it’s a place I don’t want to invade.

I’d always visited Reggie aboard the ship, whether it was Outsider or Penumbra, but there was a time, while he was recovering, that he wasn’t there. I didn’t think Cyril was ready to see me, so I avoided him, but that meant avoiding Reggie, too. I wondered if I should just leave him alone.

This left me with another problem, though: as long as Reggie was recovering, the others were living their private lives, too. I didn’t want to drop by their homes unannounced, but I couldn’t hang out with them on the ship, and I didn’t think I should overdo it with Sean.

I missed them.

I was working on the next novel, polishing it mostly, so it shouldn’t have been such a problem, but rewriting is a lonely business. I was dealing with words, not characters, and sometimes words don’t want to be wrangled without an exhausting fight.

I finally broke my own unwritten rule. Let’s face it, I’m sort of making up the rules as I go along, so occasionally there will be adjustments.

There wasn’t any snow, but it was still cold. I walked around a little, flapping my arms and shivering. I eyed the rocks circling one of the trees. I walked around the storage shed in the far corner. I thought maybe I shouldn’t be there.

Then the back door opened.

Reggie backed out and closed the door. When he turned around, I was startled to see him leaning on a cane. He took a few steps toward me, but I darted to join him so he wouldn’t have to go any farther than necessary.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t know—”

“Forget it,” he said. “I’m bored as hell anyway.”

“Are you supposed to be walking?” I asked. I knew he’d been badly injured, but I’d managed not to think about it. The cane made it impossible to ignore, though.

“Sure,” he said. “Thought I was so smart: I lost the cane so even Cy couldn’t find it. So what’s he do? Buys me another one, damn it.”

I checked his expression to see that he wasn’t angry at his brother.

“It’s mostly for balance,” he said. “So why are you here? Not much to see, is there?”

“Rewriting,” I said, as if that explained everything.

It didn’t. Reggie looked puzzled.

“Take your favorite book,” I said. “Now read it ten times in a row.”

He nodded. “So you’re bored as hell, too.”

“Pretty much.”

He laughed. “We’re just a couple of winners, right? Got it made.”

I smiled. “That’s right. Top of the world.”

“Give it a while,” Reggie said. “I’ll get back, so will you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

And he was right: The Other Side is coming soon. Stay tuned!

Closet Spaceship Part 17

I sat on a bench, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. I was wearing a coat because even though it was spring, it was also Chicago and there was a definite chill in the air. I was hoping that was only literal, not figurative.

He almost walked right past me. I saw his steps falter, then sort of stumble to a halt, but at first he didn’t look at me. I think he knew he could just keep walking and I wouldn’t say anything.

He sighed before he turned to face me.

“Hi, Sean,” I said.

I don’t know if I would have tried again if Reggie hadn’t asked me to do it. I’ll never know if Sean said something to him or it was his idea, but I told him I’d try.

“Thank you,” I said.

This startled Sean. “For what?”

“For introducing me to them.”

“I didn’t really—I mean, that’s not how …” Sean looked confused and sat down on the far end of the bench where I sat.

“Okay, not on purpose,” I said, “but you were interesting enough for me to stick with you, and I got to meet them because of it.”

“Reg is my friend,” Sean said. “He says you’re okay, but …”

“You should listen to him,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

It didn’t work.

“You should leave him alone,” Sean said.

That surprised me. “Why?”

Sean thought about this for a while. “I’ve never met anyone like him. He’d do anything for anyone.”

“I know,” I said.

“So leave him alone. You don’t need to make a spectacle of him.”

“I’m not,” I said. “I have every respect for him, for the whole crew. Don’t you think people need and want to read about people like that?”

“I don’t care,” Sean said. “Leave them alone.”

“So you’re not mad that I wrote about you?” I asked.

Sean scoffed. “Why would you think that?”

Sometimes it seems I don’t know anything. (More often than I want to admit, actually.)

“Uh, well, I was trying to figure it out—” I said.

“After I shut the door in your face,” Sean said. “I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have done it.”

I didn’t know what to say, especially since I agreed with him. “Okay.”

“It’s not about me,” Sean said, “especially since it looks like you stopped writing about me anyway.”

I must have scowled at him because he explained, “I looked them up. Your books, I mean. I didn’t read them, but I read the cover blurbs.”

“You’re not mad I stopped writing about you, though?” I asked.

Sean rolled his eyes. “No. No way.”

“Sean, bad things are going to happen to them,” I said. “That’s the nature of what they do. Do you think if I stop writing about them, those things won’t happen?”

Whoa. If a tree falls and no one hears it …

“I know what they do, what it means,” Sean said, “but … he’s my friend.”

“Oh,” I said as I finally got it.

Sean cares about the crew and respects what they do, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. He knows the dangers involved, maybe better than most people, so he’s a little angry that they put themselves in so much danger. But he can’t be mad at them—

I stood up. “Sean, it’s okay. I understand.”

I took two steps, but then I stopped.

“Do you think we can see each other again?” I asked. “Maybe if I let you throw something at me?”

One side of his mouth twitched a little. It was as close as he could come to a smile at the moment, but I appreciated the effort.

“I don’t know,” he said.

I was trying to be strong, but it stung a little.

“Give me some time,” Sean said.

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks for not refusing outright. And thanks for not telling me how many books there are. I’ll work that out as I go.”

Sean nodded. “Thanks for trying again.”

“I think it’s worth it,” I said.

Blank

I got a statement for my 401k plan this past week. When I opened it, I looked in the box that lists my current balance and it said $0.00. I know the stock market is bad, but really!

Fortunately, the person in charge of our 401k plan at work had already notified us that we would see this, due to our plans being transferred from one company to another. I'm glad she did that or I might have freaked out. In a few days, we should get a new statement that tells us our real balance. I'm certainly hoping it will be over $0, although I'm not sure I want to know the real balance right now until things settle down in the stock market.

For now, it appears that the account is empty ... and ironically enough, that's what's happening in my head right now, especially regarding this blog. I'm out of ideas!

It's not that there's nothing going on in my life. It's not that I have no thoughts whatsoever (that would really be scary!). It's just that everything is either too boring or too personal to write about. It's also one of those common things I have to deal with occasionally: writer's block.

My characters don't seem to want to talk to me right now. I haven't even been able to squeeze out a Closet Spaceship episode, and those are usually rather easy because they're a fun diversion from the novels. I have no constraints; I just start imagining a conversation with one of the characters and go from there. Right now, though, the characters are hiding and silent. Even Nick!

That's okay. I've been through periods like this before and I always got through them. This blank feeling will pass and the ideas will come back to me. It's just a matter of paddling the canoe through the still waters to get back to the rapids.

Meanwhile, work continues on The Other Side. Paddle, paddle.

If you have any topics you'd like me to cover, or any questions, feel free to leave me a comment.

Teasers

WARNING: This blog post contains some minor spoilers. If you haven't read Another Shot or In the Shadows, you might consider skipping this one. (The obvious solution is to read them now!)

I just watched a trailer for the new episode of "The X-Files," which will air next Sunday, Jan. 24. It's one of those shows that my significant other and I enjoyed for years. We loved the creativity of the storylines, we enjoyed most (but not all) of the conspiracy theories, we laughed at the corny jokes, but mostly I think we enjoyed the relationship between Mulder and Scully. The trailer makes me think the series will keep those strengths and add some new elements. I'm looking forward to seeing what they can do with it.

It occurs to me that some of you might be thinking of The Other Side in the same way. Will it have the same characters? Will it have the same chemistry? Will I crash another spaceship? Will I be able to do anything new? (I am very aware that crashing another spaceship would not be new, and I think I've managed to avoid it this time!)

Unfortunately, The Other Side won't come out right away, due to some extensive rewriting, but I haven't said much about it ... so maybe it's time to give a few teasers.

First of all, this novel will include the return of Sean Foster. He won't be a major factor in the story, but he will make an appearance. I hope that's good news for you.

We'll need to see how Reggie Hawkins is recovering from what happened near the end of In the Shadows. How inactive has he been? How long can he stay that way? What's his brother like?

If you recall, Lamont's crew had a mission for In the Shadows that they didn't get to fulfill: investigate the new wormhole. This time around, they're going to take a look ... and there will be some unexpected results. What is on the other side?

You'll see a little more of Gwen Radcliffe and pay a return visit to T.J.'s Bar. And you might want to review Another Shot before you read this one, although it isn't necessary.

I think that's all I'm willing to divulge for now. I hope it's enough to keep you interested while I try to finish the novel. I'll keep you posted!

Thanks, as always, for reading my blog. Feel free to leave a comment.

Closet Spaceship Part 16

The next time Nick saw me, he stopped walking along the main corridor, stepped back and said, “No.”

I stopped, too. “What?”

“No,” he repeated. “I’m not doing it.”

“Okay,” I said. “So don’t do it.”

Nick likes to make people think he knows what they’re talking about, so I thought I’d do the same to him.

He squinted at me. “Yeah?”

“Sure,” I said. “I forbid you to do it.”

That was enough over the top that he caught on and rolled his eyes.

“Nick, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said.

“No s**t,” he said.

Reggie came around the corner from the dock area and scoffed when he saw us.

“What?” we both said. Nick scowled at me for that.

“Could you two be any more different?” Reggie asked. “I don’t think so.”

I crossed my arms. “You better not be referring to age.”

“Or height,” Nick said.

Reggie looked uncomfortable.

“Or gender,” I said.

“Or …” Nick was stuck until he touched the bill of his cap. “Or hats.”

Reggie and I both laughed.

“Shut up,” Nick said, which made us laugh harder.

“Or hats,” I said before I completely lost it. I was unable to say anything else for a few minutes. Every time I tried, I started laughing again.

Reggie laughed so hard he had to lean against the wall.

Finally Mark had to come find out what was going on, since I’m sure we were audible throughout most of the ship. He stood there shaking his head at the two of us.

“This is all your fault,” Nick said to him.

“Right,” Mark said. “My fault.”

Reggie was the first to try to compose himself. He took a couple of deep breaths and stood up straight, biting his lower lip. By that time, I could hardly breathe, so I did the same. We looked at each other out the corners of our eyes and almost lost it again, but managed to keep control.

“Sorry,” I gasped. “Not your fault.”

Nick said, “She probably wouldn’t even be here if you hadn’t said we’re supposed to tell all our secrets.”

“What?” Mark said. “I never said that!”

“Nick, you’re such a trog sometimes,” Reggie said. “All he said was, we can tell why we did stuff, if we want.”

“Yeah, like why did I ever join this crew?” Nick grumbled.

“So why did you?” Reggie asked.

“Like I’d tell you,” Nick said. He looked at me. “Or you.”

“Okay,” I said. “You won’t be telling me anything. Got it.”

I didn’t think he’d want me to explain to him that he didn’t have to tell me anything because eventually he’ll show me.

And that may not be easy for either of us.

      For now, I can be grateful that he made me laugh.