New Year, Time to Write and Another Part of Control Me

Don’t worry, that is not my resolution. I never was a fan of them. What’s the point of setting a goal to last all year? Why not strive to be happy and do what you love? Well, and I have to learn to stop doubting myself. I have a tendency to think my writing is awful and I will never get published. No, I don’t have a fear of rejection, more a fear of being accepted. Maybe I will finally get over my fear and send out Query Letters. Hence the word ‘maybe’.

In regards to that, I plan to do what I have been doing for the past couple years: write a novel a year and type up a novel a year. Hope that I can do that. Writing is my hobby, but my passion. Plus, if I don’t get confident and published, lots of friends and coworkers will be angry about not going on any trips.

I do have to say, I was spoiled for Christmas. I got a lot of amazing writing gifts. I can admit this, getting anything like that makes me feel like a little kid again.

Favourite one is this:

All I am waiting for is the blue ink I ordered so I can write my novels with it.

But, seeing as I have gotten side-tracked, I will stick with what I had initially planned: posting a little bit more of Control Me. Remember, it’s not edited yet, but enjoy! One of my favourite parts:

I helped Jared fold up the tent and stuff it in his bag. We woke up as soon as the sun hit the tent. There was no chance we wanted to risk being caught while packing. “Do we need to pack up anything else?” I said to Jared as I did up all the clasps on my large bag.

Jared closed up his bag and put it on his back. “No, the tent was the last thing.” He grabbed his small bag and waited for me to get the bags situated on me so I was able to move with ease. “We’ve got to grab a train to an airport. It’ll take three hours.”

“Fantastic. Let’s get going then.” I began to follow Jared through the woods. As we walked we listened for the sound of footsteps. Last time we checked a group was close to where we were. Every twenty metres or so he would stop and signal for me to do the same. It allowed us to be safe and protect ourselves in case people were near. This particular pause was longer than normal.

“I think that there are people near us,” Jared said as he focused on listening to the area around us.

When he went to reach for his weapon I placed my hand over his to stop him. “Let me handle this.” My method was quieter. I stood against Jared as I listened to find where the people were hiding. Not being able to see the people would make it difficult to control them. I signalled to him that I needed to move closer. Don’t follow. I need to make sure I can run back and find you. I waited till he nodded in acknowledgement of my message before I began to make my way through the brush towards the direction of the voices we had faintly heard. There was a group of twelve discussing the plan to do the search of the area. Now the method of trying to incapacitate them at the same time was going to be tricky. Either they would all attack us after they revived if I just put them to sleep or I could kill them and not worry about them chasing us. I decided to do the latter because it was the best decision for Jared and me. All of them had weapons, which made it easier on me. All I had to do was make them go after each other like they were all enemies. I stood, hidden by the trees as I looked at the group, thinking of the thought I had created in my mind. Within seconds one man had pulled out his gun and killed the guy across from him. After that shot it was chaos. They all fired at each other, falling to the ground in agony. As the last guy fell I dropped my head and stopped thinking of the thought. The deed was done. I was a monster. I had killed twelve people by making them kill each other. I was a monster. I had killed twelve people. Not wanting to dwell on the facts, I turned around and walked back to where Jared had stayed hidden.

Jared looked at me with a concerned face. “What happened?” he said when I had not spoken a word to him once I returned.

“They’re dead, or dying.”

“How many?”

“Twelve.”

“The others will notice. We better start moving, and fast.” Jared started to jog, weaving around the trees. He could sense my dislike of what I had just done, but he had no time to console. Twelve people were dead and whoever they worked for would take notice. He knew that my decision was the correct one. “You made the right decisions even if it seems like you haven’t. I told you, the first time always is the hardest.” That was not at all that supportive, but it was all he could think of while navigating back to the train station.

“I hope it does. If not, I don’t know what I will do.” It was hard to keep up with Jared’s pace carrying a large bag on my back and carrying a smaller one in my arms. The death of those men should distract whoever sent them long enough for us to get on a train and head towards an airport.

“Another ten minutes and we’ll be there.” He increased his pace, not wanting it to be longer than ten minutes.

Control Me Preview

I haven’t had much happen in my life in almost a month. I have been busy working, Christmas shopping and preparing to go to two football games. One game involves me dying my hair bright green and blue, and painting my face. Will post some of those pictures.

Instead of ranting I figured I would post some of the book I am working on typing up, Control Me. Be warned, this is the typing up of the rough draft, I haven’t gone through to edit or make sense out of most of the novel.

Hope some people enjoy it, this is one of my favourite parts that I have typed up so far.

Cpt. Anderson saluted his superiors before he guided me to the chair next to where he sat down. His face was serious and he stayed quiet. Technically, he was not forced to attend this meeting, but he chose to for my sake or the sake of his superiors for he was unknowledgeable with how much power I acquire.

When I sat down I glanced at each officer before looking back at Cpt. Anderson. No one looked pleased to be here.

“Well, Miss Clemmons have you been briefed as to why we asked to meet with you?” the officer directly across from me said. His tone made me feel like I was less intelligent than them.

“Yes, I have,” I replied. For first introductions, this was the worst. It felt like each of the six officers were trying to see through me

“before we proceed with making a decision and meriting your proof, we need to see evidence.”

What type of evidence? I said to each of the people’s minds in the room. I had enough of their attitude.

“I’m sorry. What did you just say? The officer sitting beside me said.

Cpt. Anderson tried not to laugh. Since yesterday he had adjusted to me talking to him through his mind.

I asked you gentlemen, how you would like me to prove my abilities.

“Your lips are not moving,” the officer sitting at the head of the table stated.

I know. I am not using my mouth to speak. For being superiors they lacked imagination and intelligence towards something other than literature and facts.

“But, how?”

Cpt. Anderson put his left hand over his mouth to help disguise and resist laughing more. He felt my frustration that I was feeling because he was sitting directly next to me.

I am speaking to you through your mind. I can say anything to you this way.

All six officers stared at me in awe and confusion.

“Nope. I don’t believe you,” the officer that addressed me first said.

I sighed. It’s true. It would be best if you realized it now before I show you the next part. I assure you it will not be pleasant for you. Not that I was complaining about potentially causing harm to them. This was what I feared: disbelief. All I wanted to do was scream out of frustration. If I became angry it would spread to everyone. I had not properly worked on my powers to handle too many people, or designate each person a different reaction.

“Was that a threat?”

Yes, it was. I do not like when people do not believe me.

“And what could you possibly do to make that threat a reality Miss Clemmons?”

Glancing over at Cpt. Anderson I smiled. “Sad or angry?” I said to Cpt. Anderson.

“Sad, I guess,” Cpt. Anderson responded. Although, it was humorous to think of the men in charge of him getting angry for no reason, sadness was more of a proof of my abilities.

“Excuse me Cpt. Anderson and Miss Clemmons, what are you two discussing?” the officer beside me said.

You will see. I focused my eyes on the six of them and began to send out the emotion of extreme sadness. My body did not react as I pushed the feeling onto them. If I was using my ability correctly, Cpt. Anderson was not to be affected by the feeling.

Each officer’s eyes began to tear up before they started to cry.

Believe me now?

“How? Why? I feel so sad right now,” the officer across from me said. His eyes were red and puffy from crying.

I am making you feel sad. It’s a way to prove to you my abilities.

“Enough! I can say that we believe you now.” He wiped his cheeks with the back of his left hand. His cheeks were damp from tears he did not know why they were shed.

Within seconds I stopped sending them the feeling of sadness. My point was proven my abilities existed.

“Do you know how much danger you are in with a third of the countries trying to find you?”

“As you have seen and experienced, I am more dangerous than any of them,” I said. Instead of speaking to them through their minds I opted to speak aloud. “Emotions are only one aspect of what I can control.”

“You are a commodity that people will do anything to get a hold of. As you have analyzed, people have ideas with the use of you.”

It felt like I was to be disposed of like I was a threat to the country and world. Fear set in as I saw their faces. It was a mixture of concern, anger and no emotion. This was business, and I was their business. “So, what am I to do?” as the officers discussed me, I sat in silence and waited for a response. No other option but waiting existed for me.

After seven minutes all the officers returned their attention to me. “For now you are to remain here and monitor any new messages received from these countries involved. You no longer need to look at previous documents,” the officer across from me told me. “You will be supervised and escorted at all times. You are to keep your abilities a secret. Only the people in this room are permitted to have knowledge of your abilities and the full extent of them.”

What he told me was not difficult. The supervising and escorting aspect bothered me though. “Anything else?” The tone of annoyance was strong in my voice and I didn’t bother to try and hide it.

“You are to not use your abilities.”

That statement bothered me the most. My abilities were a part of me. There was no switch to turn them on and off. “I’m sorry, but that one I will not agree with.”

“You have no say, we are telling you that you are not allowed to use them.”

“I do have a say.” I clenched my hands into fists to try to suppress my anger.

Cpt. Anderson put his left hand on my right forearm. He gave my forearm a light squeeze. “Sirs, you cannot ask her to not use what is a part of her,” he said to his superiors in defense of me. He chose to remain silent throughout the meeting, but now he intervened for my sake. The majority of the rules were able to be respected. The last one was not.

“Did we ask for your opinion for Cpt. Anderson?” the officer across from me said. He was displeased with Cpt. Anderson for speaking out.

“No, sir, you did not. You are making a terrible decision assuming Miss Clemmons will agree to the rules.” Cpt. Anderson knew that I was able to leave at anytime, and then they would be unable to control me.

“No offence, gentlemen, but if you want me to stay then I get to deal with all the rules except for the last one. I had the decency and respect to inform you of my abilities. I could have let the people try to find me and invade Canada,” I said. What I said was the truth. How they came to have knowledge of my abilities was from me informing Cpt. Anderson. They were not in charge, I was.

“We will have to discuss this,” the officer beside me said.

“You have till lunch. If you do not agree to my use of abilities I plant to pack, leave and return home this afternoon.”

“Another threat?”

“No. As you should have realized by now I do not threaten. I warn before I act.”

“We will notify Cpt. Anderson of our decision at 1100. Dismissed.”

Cpt. Anderson saluted as he led me out of the room and down to his office. Once we were out of earshot of his superiors he looked at me. “Well played, Janet,” he said. It sounded like congratulation. As we entered the stairwell he held the door open for me.

“I did my best. They were difficult to convince.” I walked down the stairs beside Cpt. Anderson without him the meeting may not have gone as well. In my defence he stood-up for me, not wanting me to be taken advantage of. Thank you for helping me in the meeting. It was nice having support. Support was not a concept I embraced often.

He smiled, knowing I was able to decipher what it was about. Once we reached his officer’s floor he stopped me outside the entrance. “Even if they told you that you were not allowed to use your abilities, would you have listened?”

“No.” I smiled. My rebellious nature made me unsuitable for the army. Taking orders was difficult for me.

“Come, we’ll keep you occupied as we wait for the decision.” He held open the door for me before he began to lead me to his office. Even after several days of me working in the building, the people in uniform still gave me awkward looks. Most of them he caught and gave a look back. Civilian workers were not uncommon, but it was rare to see a new one without a connection to a person already working on base.

 

Keep writing everyone! Never give up on it!

My Problem With Nanowrimo

Well, my problem with any type of thing that requires you to write a novel in a small amount of days. Don’t get me wrong, I did partake in this last year, but I wouldn’t call my finished product a novel.

Problem #1:

Setting a high word count number to reach expecting every person to reach it.

Sure, if you wasted every free waking moment to writing, or most of your free nights you could do this. There is the slight problem of going grocery shopping, spending time with family, eating, cooking food and any other things that need to get done. Even working is a challenge.

I worked 40 hours a week and spent the majority of my free time writing just to complete the challenge a few days early. It was tough to do on top of everything else.

Problem #2

Letting your brain process what to write.

Sure, you want to write the first thing you think of, but this could make the editing process much longer than it has to be. Your train of thought could work in your favour because it could flow, other times it could be terrible.

You may need  to take a couple hours to days off to let your mind breathe and process. Overworking your brain is what creates writers’ block and exhaustion.

Problem #3

People only write during Nanowrimo.

I understand you want to focus on revising and editing that novel, but you won’t get faster at writing a novel without more practice. Practice helps and only doing it once a year is not helpful.

I find that I write more during the spring/summer where the days are longer versus the winter time. A novel is not 50k, it is more, normally. To be honest, I spend a couple months after the last Nanowrimo to finish my book because of how much more I had to add to make it close, if not over 80k.

If people focused on writing half as much as they do during that month, they would be surprised at what type of work they could accomplish. People find that writing during Nanowrimo makes them an author, but I think authors write year round, not during a challenge-yourself month.

 

I am sure there are more problems, but this was all I could think of. I don’t know if I plan to participate this year because I will be just finishing a novel before it and want to type up another one.

If you are doing this, be realistic. Write for the sake of writing and not because you think Nanowrimo is what everyone is doing. It is not a fad.

Some writers do a great job doing it. I, on the other hand, like to not push myself too hard while working full-time. Hope this doesn’t offend any loyal Nanowrimo writers.

Pushing Limits

I have this weird conception where pushing limits is a great thing. Not in every day life, but in my books. I am not always a mystery writer…I dabble in other styles too.

My books contain violence. Some of it is overdone, others it is just right. What I mean by overdone  is 1440. That book is straight violence. It is hard to read because well, it’s gory. It was a riot to write because it was something so outside my normal way of life and thinking. An escape to a place so much worse than here.

Not saying all my novels are like that. Most do have a strong-willed, tough protagonist. No, that is not me. Strong-willed, maybe, but not tough, or as brave as most of my characters.

Pushing limits in novels is what makes them interesting. Most banned books push limits by containing information that some people find controversial. Not every novel can please every reader. The world would be so boring and generic if novels did do that.

All right, the main reason behind this post is about the next novel I plan to self-publish and the one I am hoping to finish writing soon. Both these books are a little different than I am used to writing, and tend to push a lot of limits; which I tend to do with my writing. I will start with Control Me. No, it is not sexual, start off with that. It’s a little out of my writing comfort zone. That’s right, I have one of those. This particular novel is about a girl born with a certain skills most humans do not have. She can control people with her mind, change their emotions and talk to their minds. She is wanted by all different governments/people wanting power to use as a weapon. She basically is forced to flee the country and hide with a highly trained guy. That is basically the gist of it. Lot’s of fighting, evil people and arguing. Yes, there is sex, but if there wasn’t I would be beaten my friend Shawna…with my own writing book. She is good at knocking that type of sense into me when it comes to my books. I cannot say any more because I am typing up the rough draft and will still need to edit it. As you can see, not exactly for everyone.

Now, The Selected. This one is about 14 year olds that get selected to pretty much become assassins/spies. They train to kill and will train to seduce. I am nearing the end of the novel, and there will be bloodshed and changing of the main characters mentality. I am waiting to hear uproars when I do self-publish it next year. No one is safe because in training people will die. Can’t really prevent people dying when they have to train with real weapons, or I am little sick.

Now that I have told you what my two current works are about you can understand why people may not like them. Some people should, but who knows. To end my blog, I will tell everyone something funny my co-worker told some of our new coworkers. He told people I am crazy because I write novels and like to murder lots of people in them. Outcome, most of them avoid me, but still piss me off. Now I wonder if I yelled if they would be terrified of me. Hmm…time to ponder scary writing mind.

Off to be productive, or think about being productive.