Wernham Zogg

"Spaceman came down to answer some things,
The world gathered round from paupers to kings,
I’ll answer your questions, I’ll answer them true,
I’ll show the way you know what to do,
Who is wrong and who is right?
Yellow, brown or black or white?
The spaceman he answered “You’ll no longer mind...
I’ve opened your eyes, you’re now colour blind.”

In looking for inspiration for the editing process, this little diddy has been the most helpful thus far. "Douglas Adams's Starship Titanic" taught me that it doesn't matter how crappy my book is; if my name is Douglas Adams/Terry Jones it'll probably get published. (I chose to read it first because the introduction made a reference to publishers being from planet Zog, and in my book there just happened to be a Planet Zogg.)

Something to write home about

"If you thought that you were making your way
To where the puzzles and pagans lay
I'll put it together: It's a strange invitation"

First, I want to thank all of you out there. I appreciate the support and feedback, and I think without this blog and your comments I wouldn't have made it.

As I said in my last post, for a long time I preferred the tag "aspiring writer" because of fears of the label "failed writer." Well, I don't know if I'll ever be a successful writer, but right now I'm definitely just fine with the term "writer."

It's thirty chapters, and in Times New Roman 12-point font it's 199 pages (though because of weird paragraph indents in the first 12-15 chapters it's probably a bit longer).

So now I have my reading list, which I'll follow by reading "The Chronicles of Boston Thomas: A Sci-Fi Space Western Action-Adventure Extravaganza." (I think I'm going to change the title to "Boston Thomas, Space Hero.") This will likely be sometime after I get back from Vegas in mid-September. Then I'll have to decided whether I want to spend the next several months editing the book into something worthwhile, or jump into writing the next book.

Anyway, I might not be posting every day like I have been for the moment, but the blog will keep running.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot: For those of you still thinking the book will be good, I'm taking pre-orders now. Just send $20 and you'll be among the first to own your very own copy.

Why must I fail at everything?

You know, I really had high hopes this time that I would actually make my goal. Write 50,000 words in a month? Sure, I think I can actually do it this time.

It seems I've reached a point where it can no longer be done. I should have expected as much. I've wanted to be a writer for a long time, but I never really put much into it before now -- I always said it would be better to be an aspiring writer than a failed writer.

But looking at rules given in Baty's book, I've failed yet again. I will miss the 50,000-word mark, and by quite a bit. I mean, it clearly says that the 49,999th word should be "THE" and the 50,000th word should be "END."

Dammit!

Dammit all to SPACE HELL!!!


Word count: 50,206.

;)

Gone with the Wend

OK, for those of you out there who still doubt me when I say this book has virtually no chance of being published: Prepare to be convinced.

We've made it to Lost Earth, where Boston Thomas and Co. must convince the Mechanoids (my transformers I talked about earlier) to help them, despite the fact that the Mechanoids forced humanity to leave five millennia ago.

It turns out Callatron is a Mechanoid as well: an espionage model designed to gather intelligence, and what better way than to pose as a space reporter (She's a futuristic Ian Fleming). She transforms into something kinda like Megatron, with a big honkin' gun for a right arm, called a 4.4 Magnum, the most powerful armgun in the galaxy. ("Do you feel lucky? Well do ya, cyberpunk?")

The Mechanoid capital is where Chicago was, but it's no longer called Chicago; they honored the Great Programmer by naming the city after Randar's wife -- it's The Wendy City.

And the leader of the Mechanoids? Well, the elders are a collective of Apple G6s, but the military commander is Stoopsimus Prime.

Like I said, I'll have a LOT of editing to do.

Word count: 45,463.

Do Sci-fi Writers Dream of Androids Dreaming of Electric Sheep?

Sooooooooo tired.

That's how I felt after work last night. I got home, fixed some dinner and watched a quick DVD, and then I could hardly keep my eyes open. Even the Red Bull failed me! Maybe I should try smoking?

Anyway, I wrote a short chapter and quit after about 1,000 words. This sucks because I'm so close to the end!

Tomorrow I'm sleeping until 3 p.m.

Word count: 42,380.

Kinda weird

During a little down time at work, I came across this book.

Skirmish Royal

It seems I had another "skirmish" last night, but the war rages still. A lot of you out there should know what I mean.

But I've passed the 40,000-word mark. And our heros have made it to the Alpha Quadrant of the galaxy, and we got to see the space where the epic "Battle Royal" took place as humanity fled earth. Much more background. Friday night I only got something like 700 words, but I made up some lost ground last night with about 2,300. Tonight we make it to Earth.

Last night I bought a couple of books to read once I'm done in hopes that they will give me some ideas for when I start editing: "Douglas Adams' Starship Titanic" by Terry Jones (of Monty Python fame) and "Ensign Flandry" by Poul Anderson. I also want to take a look at "The Road to Mars" by Eric Idle and "Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency" by Douglas Adams.

Any suggestions for other reading material would be appreciated.

Word count: 41,319.

K.C. and the Sunshine Broadband

I was telling the copy desk chief here, Kim Callahan, how my book was missing journalists. Actually, I think I said it needed SPACE reporters.

Well it just so happens that Boston Thomas was involved in an interstellar incident last time, and let's just say that at the ensuing press conference, the space cowboy met his match. K.M. Callatron, a robot space reporter for the Journal Worlds.

Oh sure, Boston tried to escape. But no good. What use is a simple blaster against an interplanetary war correspondent that's heavily armored and types 3,000 words a minute? And the cockamamie story Boston tried to get the reporter off the trail? No good: Callatron could see the gaps in the story -- copy editing upgrades had been installed.

"Go ahead, make my dateline," was the response.

So is the robot an integral part of the story? Is it a way for me to suck up to the chief? Or maybe my chance to kill her off in the book?

Stay tuned.

Word count: 38,144.

More Than Meets the Eye

I think I'm definitely in the home stretch. If I keep my current pace, I should be done by the end of next week. I pretty much know what's going to happen the rest of the way. I won't say too much, except that I'm stealing more sci-fi stuff.

Yeah, yeah ... I've already stolen plenty from Star War, everyone knows, and I think Austin might be the only who realizes how much I take from Futurama. (which has been greenlit for a direct-to-DVD movie, with an option for a second one!) But now I'm going to put some Transformers into the book. Autobots and Decepticons? No, something much better.

Or ... something much worse.

Either way, it's about time for big talking robots that can change form, whose primary mission is to sell toys.

Word count: 36,005.

I'm not not-in-Kansas anymore

Well, I finally went a day without writing. Monday after hanging out with my system I got home and I was too frustrated over the tech issues that I didn't bother and got an early night's sleep. I figured I was 6,000 words ahead of the pace at the halfway point, so why not?

And I mostly made up for it tonight: more than 3,000 words, almost double the daily quota. It's weird though, I've got the goal line in sight and I've already started thinking about the next book. One at a time, George.

I have to admit, this has made me think about writing in the future. During the weekend, I visited with my editing professor/mentor at OU, David Craig, who is now director of graduate studies at the J-school. When I told him about my novel-writing project, he started telling me about OU's new professional-writing master's program. We both agreed that I'd probably had enought time in school as it is, but it is something to think about.

But like I said, I need to focus on getting this book done before anything else. And now I start a work schedule that has me working on 10 of the next 11 days. Time to stock up on the Red Bull.

Word count: 34,253.

Waiting for Borgs

My sister's computer finally died, and I lost another section of a chapter. At least we installed Word on there before it happened, otherwise I might have lost more. But in all I probably lost about 2,000 words this weekend. I mean, I wrote them all again, but I'm about a chapter behind where I could have been had I not had to spend time to go back to what I had already written.

But anyway, we made it to Randar 7 finally, met Zibray Zen-Zen, an android who solves probability equations to make accurate predictions, and while I had intended to introduce Alpha Two at this point, it turns out the space folk-rock troubadour was with our heroes the whole time! Who knew?

And Lothar Zogg, the fledgling cyborg overlord? His scheming has evolved into a more dastardly plot than I had realized. Watch out for the cyborgs! (the title of this entry is more than just a shout out to Jill's blog.)

Despite the technological problems, it's still been a productive weekend. I'm more than 60 percent of the way there.

Word count: 31,119

Rage Against the Machines

Oh, this was not a good thing to happen just before coming to the android homeworld.

Boston and Penny were blasting their way out of Eben Space Station when they had to fight off some Royal warships -- so lots of action and some pretty steady writing. I'm probably a couple paragraphs from finishing the chapter -- and it crashes! ARRGH!!!

I'm on an old computer of my sister's, which doesn't have MS Word, just WordPad, so no autosave. I basically lost 1,200 words. I still got 3,300 words written, though I actually wrote something like 4,500 words -- I just had to do 1,200 over again. I was so pissed. I'm going to have to smash up some computers in the next chapter.

Word count: 28,513.

Screw you, OSU!

Boomer Sooner, Boomer Sooner,
Boomer Sooner, Boomer Sooner,
Boomer Sooner, Boomer Sooner,
Boomer Sooner, OK-U!

Oklahoma, Oklahoma,
Oklahoma, Oklahoma,
Oklahoma, Oklahoma,
Oklahoma, OK-U!

I'm a Sooner born,
And a Sooner bred,
And when I die
I'll be Sooner dead!

Rah, Oklahoma! Rah, Oklahoma!
Rah, Oklahoma! OK-U!

When I drove home earlier today, I took Wendy's copy of Chris Baty's book and some checks -- my sister gets a great rate to ship stuff through her office -- and I was going to send her the book and two checks that are potential punishments for not meeting writing goals.

One check will be written to the Kansas Republican Assembly, which will be sent if I don't write 50,000 words by the end of the month. But the other check, the one that was to go to The Posse, the fundraising arm of the Oklahoma State University athletic department, in the event that I couldn't even make half my goal is no longer necessary.

The book is half done.

OK, that might not be quite true. I have no idea how long the book is going to be, but I'm halfway to the goal. And it feels great to know that OSU isn't going to be mismanaging my money.

Poor Aggies!

So Thursday night I did write after work, netting just over 1,700 words, and after driving to Oklahoma City on Friday I got in almost 2,600 words, putting me over the 25,000-word mark. I still haven't made it to Randar 7. We had to stop at a space station to get supplies, and some space marines jumped out of nowhere to waylay our heroes at the end of Chapter 14! What will happen next? (Wish I actually knew)

Anway, now I try to get some sleep. The Sooners scrimmage at 11 a.m. and I want to try to make it.

Word count: 25,209

The game of the name

Boston Thomas' given name is Thomas Brannigan. His outfit in the military had a tradition of adopting the name of your ancestral home on Lost Earth (to mainain some sort of link to your past), then drop your family because your squadron was your family now.

So that's how we had Austin David, Evanston Ellyn and Sheboygan Steve. The problem I have is that a name I pulled out of my ass last night has become a name I REALLY like. Dallas Preamble, whose name used to be Preamble Conclusion. Yes, it's probably stupid, but I really, really like it. I might have to switch character names in the editing phase.

Anyway, writing was a bit of a chore tonight. More background on Boston Thomas, but it was really slow going -- I didn't think I was going to be able to get the nightly quota. But I think I have discovered a pretty good trick that I will share with all of you in case you do some writing on your own and need a boost.

Just thrown in some space ninjas; the chapter practically writes itself.

It got a bit easier after that. I got over 2,100 words tonight, close to levels I was at during the first two days. It's pushed me over the 20,000-word mark. Forty percent done!

We've finally left Burrell's World. I didn't think I was going to be there as long as I was, but it worked out well -- Wal-Martians aside. Now we're off to Randar 7, in a ship stolen from Boston Thomas' nemesis, Neptune Jim. And the psychotic cyborg Lothar Zogg (anyone know the significance of his name, yet?) is in hot pursuit.

Randar 7 is the homeworld of the androids, so named from the great computer programmer, who millennia ago on Lost Earth wrote the code that created the first sentient artificial life. There they will meet with the mystic android leader Zibray Zen-Zen.

Word count: 20,904.

Docta Streengeloove, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Dark Side

I knew this storyline was taking me to a bad place.

Too much caffiene, too little sleep and too little time off from work make a dangerous combination.

OK, faithful readers. I am ashamed with what I have done. There, I said it. Maybe that's all I shoud say?

No, I grew up Catholic; I must confess my sin.

Trying to get more work done during my one day off in over a week, I needed to let go, to search my feelings for a force with which to write. Then it hit me, if I let go, I can write about anything! Any fantasy, any desire, no matter how improbable, how impossible it may seem, I can make anything happen withing the confines of my novel, no matter how dangerous, now matter how dark.

No matter how evil.

Before I tell you what it is I did, please remember that I am a good person, or try to be. Don't judge me by my dark fantasies, unleashed upon characters in my book!

But if you deem me a bad person, so be it. I supposed I deserve it, considering what I have done. And so I will tell you what it was:

Tonight in my book, I killed Jar-Jar Binks.

Arrgh! I said it, and I cannot take it back (at least, not until I go back to the EDIT POST feature on blogger).

Jar-Jar Binks and Boston Thomas had a history dating back six years that led to Boston being kicked out of the military. Basically, Boston found Jar-Jar in violation of interstellar law for perpetuating intergalactic racial stereotypes by dealing in space ganja and had him busted. Fast forward to the present (or even further into the future), and Jar-Jar has Boston cornered in a bar in Bentonville, the Burrellian capital -- you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. Jar-Jar had his gun drawn on Boston and was promising to deliver him to Neptune Jim, who would surely kill him.

"Yusa see," Jar-Jar said. "Isa beena looken fowad ta deese fo a longa time."

"Yeah, I'll bet you have," Boston said, and with that blasted him with a weapon he had concealed under the table!

Oh, what treachery! And Jar-Jar hadn't even fired first! Maybe that would make it better. I guess if I finish this novel and it gets published, I can eventualy reprint a special edition and change the scene so Jar-Jar shoots first, missing by ten feet from point-blank range three feet away.

But I must say, I definitely felt the power of the dark side, as I got over 5,000 words -- a tenth of the book! Getting a day off from work rocks. I also killed off the space cadet, Austin.

And Jar-Jar was by no means the main bad guy. That's actually a cyborg named Lothar Zogg, dark overlord in training. He's a shout out to all you Kubrick fans out there, with a little Star Wars mixed in.

And I bought a 128MB jump drive at Best Buy to take my novel to work to e-mail it to myself -- just more backups for security reasons. It's the Best Buy brand, Geek Squad, and only cost $20, but the jump drive has a disclaimer on the back: "DESPITE BEING EXCELLENT FOR TRANSPORTING FILES, THIS DRIVE DOES NOT INCREASE YOUR CAPACITY FOR MENTAL TELEPATHY."

What a gyp!

And I'm thinking of changing the name from Boston Thomas to Boston Brannigan. Please give input on this!

Word count: 18,788.

That alien's alma mater is Probe U

Well after landing on Burrell's World it turns out the Wal-Mart was closed down about six years ago. It seems the Wal-Martians got into a labor dispute with the Royal Family about their hiring practices.

After the extreme cost of terraforming the planet, the empire couldn't afford to pay humans the Royal minimum wage, nor the startup costs of building a robot army like the Trade Federation, so they took to hiring alien refugees in exchange for a place to live on the planet. The problem: It's unlawful for nonhumans to work or live within Royal Space.

So the nonhumanoids worked in the storerooms and warehouses, while the humanoid races were in the store, with altered appearances to make them look more human. If you checked the Wal-Martian application records, the most common name among applicants was "Hugh Mann."

I know, I know -- it's so implausible, a dispute over unlawful nonhumans. Wal-Mart hiring illegal aliens? Never!

I had fallen behind the pace for 50,000 words, but I'm now back on track. I finished Chapter Seven and I got a good start on Chapter Eight. But I have to admit, the aliens I introduced, let's just say that I have a bad feeling about this. They might lead me to a bad place ...

Word count: 13,760.

I, Nerd

Part of my writing ritual is to put on a couple of episodes of "Futurama" while I fix something to eat after I get off work. Last night the first episode was "Anthology of Interest II," where Fry asks the what-if machine what life would be like if it were a video game. At one point Fry is asked to repel "Space Invaders." His response: "It's Saturday night, I have no date, a two-liter bottle of Shasta and an all-Rush mix tape. Let's rock."


Is it sad that this makes me nostalgic for the good-ol' days?

Anyway, I ended up doing some writing. Not much, though -- 700 words, on the dot. I could have written a lot more, I didn't have a block, I was just soooooo tired. I went to bed after finishing the first section of Chapter Seven. It's the first time I've gone to bed with it still dark outside in a week.

I'll try to finish off the chapter tonight, then tomorrow I actually have the day off! I have to unpack and I want to catch a movie, but we'll see how much I can get done. At least this weekend I have five days off, and one of them a Saturday! (Time to round up some quarters, load some Rush on the iPod and find a 24-hour convenience store that has Galaxian.)

Word count: 11,510.

Penny for my thoughts

It's weird what characters have survived my story in only six chapters and a prologue. Mainly I'm thinking of Ensign Penelope Jones of the Royal Navy, who in the first chapter was basically just an extra, a junior tactical officer feeding information to the captain of a military vessel. Not only is she still around, but four of the six chapters of the book are told through the eyes of Penny Jones.

Chapter Six was a bit short -- just over a thousand words -- and while it's definitey my weakest work, it evolved into setting up the story I'll be telling in this book, which will be surprisingly topical. And it got me over the 10,000-word mark. I'm over 20 percent of the way there!

I'm not going to write tonight; I need a break. As Austin told me a little bit ago, even God rested on the seventh day.

Word count:10,810.

More fun than a Burrell full of monkeys

An efficient night -- Chapter Five is now done. When I started this I thought I'd be lucky to do a page a night, not whole chapters. I'm pleased, but I fear the point next week when I lose momentum and I have to actually come up with not only an ending, but how to get my story there.

Our hero, the intrepid space cowboy Boston Thomas, has arrived on Burrell's World. It was discovered five hundred years ago by spaceman artist W.T. Burrell, who plotted a re-entry course through the planet's atmosphere that, when the unique gases of the planet combined with the exhaust trail of his first-generation ion thrusters, it left colorful streaks across the sky that constantly evolved with the planet's weather. Burrell died in the process, but created what was considered the galaxy's greatest masterpiece of celestial art which was enjoyed for four hundred years. That is until the Wal-Martian empire decided to terraform the planet and make it a 24-hour Superplanetary Shopping Center.

Word count: 9,802.

Cowboys and engines

Red Bull truly is the nectar of the Gods.

I was so dead last night after work. But I didn't wan't to not write, so I did what I used to do at OU and got some sugar-free Red Bull and a 32 oz. Diet Mountain Dew from the Kwik Shop and did my best.

I got 1,902 words -- so Chapter Four is done. Much more action again. Though now that Boston's a space cowboy, I need to figure out how to make him more of one. I'm not thinking Mal from "Firefly," but Spike from "Cowboy Bebop." Hmm ...

Anyway, back to work.

Word count: 8,251.

Who says there's no sound in space?

Writing on Wednesday got off to a bad start. I tried writing on my lunch hour. As I told Wendy, I got five words, two of which was "Chapter" and "Three."

I was dead tired when I got home and was resigned to not writing that night. I watched an episode of Futurama, then put in my copy of Super Furry Animal's "Rings Around the World," which reminds me of Beck -- kind of a space-age folk rock thing. Parts of it also remind me of Queen's soundtrack to the '70s "Flash Gordon" movie. And Chris Baty did say it's important to have a soundtrack to listen to when writing a novel in 30 days. And guess what? I started writing.

I didn't get as much as the first two days, but Chapter Three is done -- just under the 1,667 daily word quota. So I need to develop my soundtrack more. Beck, maybe some Coldplay, and for Boston Jones' theme -- well, I did have the Buzz Lightyear theme playing in my head when I introduced him at the end of Chapter One, but it turns out that Boston is a space cowboy. So his actually theme song is -- don't judge me too harshly for this! -- Kid Rock's "Cowboy."

Any other suggestions for my writing soundtrack would be greatly appreciated.

And it looks like Wendy is kicking butt and taking no prisoners with her book, too. She knocked out 3,000 words the other night. Way to go, Wendy!

Couple last bits: My shiny new PDA thingy I got last week? Price just went down $50. And soon I'll have a picture of Boston Thomas to post.

Word count: 6,349

There's no business like slow business

Chapter Two had what will pass in my book as exposition. It was a lot more difficult than Chapter One, which had a lot of action in it. But I was pleased that my output was almost as high as Day One despite that fact that I had to put eight hours in at work to cover for somebody.

I was also frustrated because my iPAQ really started to bog down. It was so slow, and I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to save my work. We'll see, though. I think it'll be OK. That being said, I think I'd better read the manual. With that, and the start of my normal work week, I might not write tomorrow. But I will say this: If you guys out there don't see a new post from me for more than three days, flood my e-mail account with messages asking me why I'm not working on my novel -- because with the conversion from "The Brainwave" to "The Writer's Block," if I'm not blogging, that means I'm not writing.

Word count: 4,735.

The search for E.B.E.s

OK, I hadn't really thought about this, but I think I need to include aliens in my story. I think it's going to be set in the human region of space, so I don't really have to get into alien cultures. But I think I was leaning against it because I don't want to spend all my time developing cool aliens rather than writing.

So I would welcome any submissions of ideas for cool alien characters. Make them as weird and interesting as you want, include a little bit of background about their species, and your E.T. can be included in a sci-fi space western action-adventure extravaganza -- serious submissions only, please! All entries will be used.

I don't know how much writing I'll be able to do today. It looks like someone is skipping out on work today, so I might be doing a half shift. We'll see ...

When you wish upon a ninja star

I began the next section of "No Plot? No Problem!" that was to be read when you started writing. The book really inspires you to write, and gives a lot of great tips and ideas, but this is a little ridiculous. It talks about just going with whatever your imagination gives you. For example, the book says, if five ninjas show up from your imagination begging to be put in your courtroom drama, then by all means, put them in!

Well, the ninjas jumped out of the courtroom drama and demanded to be put into my book! How do I put 17th century japanese assassins into a sci-fi space western action-adventure extravaganza?!?

The answer was obvious: make them SPACE NINJAS!!!

Day One of writing went pretty well. Sunday was a day from hell. I was told by my old apartment through a notice on my door that I had to be out of my apartment by Monday morning. Sunday at 12:30 p.m. I was therefore surprised when apartment managers told me that I had to be out by 7 p.m. They had no knowledge of any notices left on doors, and I wasn't getting my U-Haul until 5 p.m. I had planned on moving that night, but instead my sister and I were frantically moving me out in 95 degree heat. I've been pooped all day and my family didn't leave until late Monday, so I'm a little surprised I got any writing done at all. But I have the prologue and first chapter done.

Word count: 2,720.