The Passion of Writing

I must begin by saying that when the juices are flowing you have to take advantage of it. I did so this past weekend by writing 18,000 words in basically just over two days. Not only that, but I finished a story I was unsure of how to end. In all I think the endeavor turned out rather well, though I may end up tweaking it a bit here and there to reveal more of Opus’ cruel personality. On the other hand, I believe I captured his personality well enough that his character traits flows between this book and the others he’s involved in quite satisfactorily. Best of all the ending is a bit unexpected with a couple twists I doubt many will anticipate.

And now that its complete, I can set my mind at ease as I return to my other novel Burden. For a while there I lost interest in the story of Burden because of two things. First, my mind was intrigued by the book on Opus and I couldn’t properly focus on both endeavors at once despite how much I tried to do so. I guess I do have a one-track mind (lol). The other thing which turned me off from Burden is the fact the story wasn’t heading the direction I wanted it to. This is because the main character didn’t seem desperate enough to pursue the option given to him, but I think I can now correct that and continue on.

To accomplish this I have to do one thing which is trust my writing ability. Like with Burden, I was stuck for a few weeks on Opus, but I concentrated on the storyline and eventually worked through it while forgetting about the ending and just working on the next chapter, the next scene. And though I know where Burden will end, I must not think of the journey’s ending, but rather the mountain I’m climbing at the time. My only setback is I have to reread the last chapter of Burden in order to recapture the feeling and intensity of the story. From there, and with some dedicated time, I’m sure I can once again start up the story where I left off.

For now, how about an excerpt from a different series of books I've written where swords and sorcery replace angels and demons (well not completely): Mage of Chaos (unedited) from my Shadow Gods series.

"How would you like to help me spend some of this money, little lady," Froggle asked as he reached the bar.

"I'd like that very much," the whore responded.

"I thought you might," he said sliding a gold coin across the bar before receiving a room key in response. Lifting the key off the bar and dangling it in front of the wenches face, he said, "My room then?"

"Lead the way."

"No, no, my dear. After you! I insist 'cause I want to see that beautiful behind of yours waving at me on the way up the stairs."

"Thank you, mister," she smiled as she turned, grabbed his hand, and led him to the stairs with an added sway in her hips.

Good man, Froggle congratulated himself; winning poker and a fine woman both in the same night. Couldn't get much better than this he thought a moment too soon. Suddenly, Froggle stopped in mid stride nearly pulling the woman off her feet. Froggle spoke loudly, "I don't want to know, so you can just turn around and go tell them to get someone else. I'm not interested." 

Froggle wasn't facing the door or even turned his head toward it, but he knew Rolan was standing there. The rest of the patrons in the bar went silent noticing Froggle hadn’t moved an inch since this man had entered.

"It's urgent and Dohan wants you," Rolan stated in his usual monotone.

"Dohan! That pasty-white, lanky bag of pig manure,” Froggle cursed. “He can kiss my butt for all I care, but I'm not going. He can get someone else."

"He says you owe him."

"I don't owe him squat, except a good kick between his legs after what he did to me last time."

"He says you owe him!"

"Like I said," Froggle responded as he fingered the throwing knife he kept in his belt. "I'm not going," he stated forcefully, then with lightning reflexes he spun launching his knife at Rolan.

Rolan's head snapped back an instance later before it slowly returned to upright. "He says he'll pay you double," Rolan said as he reached up and plucked the knife out of his forehead, allowing a small dribble of black blood to ooze down his face.