For the second year in a row, I have “won”1 NaNoWriMo. What’s more, I even have this last day of November to relax. Last year, I was frantically writing right up until just a few minutes before midnight. Though I did a fair amount of writing last night2, none of it was frantic. It all simply happened.

I walk away from this NaNo feeling proud of what I’ve written. It’s unpolished as hell, with several large inconsistencies that need to be massaged away, but that’s perfectly acceptable for a “zeroth” draft3. I’ve turned it over to Cody for her first review of it while I take the next week or so to decompress. Once she has a read through and tells me what she thinks, I’ll start working on the next draft. One of the first things I’ll do is draw myself a map of the area in which the story takes place. There’s a fair amount of traveling in this story and I want to make sure I have consistent timescales for that travel.

There are five central characters, drawn together through circumstance over the course of the story. Three of these characters make up the central triumvirate4, one of whom is the point-of-view character for the entire duration of the story. He also happens to be dead5. The real joy of these characters is that they’re all fun. The protagonist is a man discovering a world he never knew. His “id” counterpart dashes head-long into any situation and isn’t afraid to call a spade a spade. His “superego” counterpart engages him in philosophical discussion. There’s also a Crowning Moment of Awesome for one of the characters. I burst out laughing when I wrote it. A good sign.

Once I finish the next draft and Cody gives it the nod of approval, I’ll distribute it to some friends for a wider review. The draft resulting from this collective critique will find its way to agents. With a little luck, it will then find its way onto bookstore shelves and into your hands. A guy can hope, anyway.

NaNo, to me, is about pushing yourself to see what you’re capable of. Last year, I learned that I was capable of writing a novel. This year, I learned that I was capable of writing a novel that entertained me. I think this is important: you should write to entertain yourself. If you like it, odds are someone else out there will too. Trust to that, rather than trying to fill some artificial quota.

  1. Yes, it is called “winning”.
  2. Over 6,000 words in one sitting.
  3. This is a term Justine Larbalestier uses to describe the absolutely raw first output of a story. I’ve also stolen her idea to use superscript footnotes in blog posts.
  4. I realized last night that this triumvirate mimicked the ego-superego-id triumvirate of Kirk-Spock-McCoy, or Harry-Hermione-Ron, or any number of other famous fictional triumvirates. I didn’t intend to set it up that way, but it sort of fell into place all the same.
  5. No, he’s not a vampire—sparkly or otherwise.

Chirality describes a state in which something cannot be superimposed on its mirror.  It’s often used in chemistry, but the human hand is a good example as well.  Chirality is the reason you have to use the same hand as the other person when shaking hands.  The “opposite” hand cannot clasp.

This word popped into my head while in the shower this morning. I have no idea why, but there you are.

Unrelated, I started wondering last night if I should have been a doctor, and whether or not becoming one later in life would be remotely feasible. I suspect not. Alas. It’d be nice to help people and get paid for it.

The problem with my writing the previous night had nothing to do with the material. Though the setting has been percolating for a long time, the story itself has never been there. Like Tolkien’s Middle Earth, if I may be so bold as to draw that comparison, I’ve got a world and some events rather than a story. A few events do not a story make. This has ever been a problem for me, as those familiar with my vast graveyard of stillborn RPG concepts can affirm.

Fortunately, I did have a character. Continue reading »

I managed to punch out 1,700 words last night. At the end of it, I was not terribly happy nor inspired by what I had written. None of it mattered. The premise informing this particular story had a very loose foundation. The more I chipped away at it, the more unfulfilled it left me feeling. Prior to writing, I did some free association brainstorming, writing down thoughts as they occurred to me with respect to the baseline premise. Alien aggressors turned into rebellious colonies, which turned into heroic revolutionaries and thereby became the protagonists.

After writing with that as a baseline, feeling comfortable with my parallels to the Revolutionary War, I began mulling over why, exactly, the same generic paradigm would make any sense. Continue reading »

I’ve been trying to write a short story every other night or so for the past few weeks, with moderate success. However, the urge to build something more concrete has crescendoed. Thus, tonight, I’m going to start writing my second novel.

The first novel, written last year for NaNoWriMo, is not something that I would ever dream of publishing in its current form. The story is far too linear, the protagonist too inconsistent, and the ultimate theme not something I’m happy with. I might revisit the premise at some point in the future. The objective of that novel was not getting published, anyway, but rather to prove to myself that I had it in me to write a novel. I did, so it achieved its purpose.

The novel I start tonight is the result of a story that has been percolating in my head for about 13 years, in various forms. It’s a sci-fi epic in the best tradition of sci-fi epics.

We’ll see where it takes me.

While mowing the lawn this past weekend, I noticed a nest about halfway up one of the two maple trees in our front yard. Once night had fallen, I gave it a good dousing with wasp killer. I continued to do this, spurred on by the invasions, until last night. Last night, I decided that it was coming down.

If I was going to do this, though, I would need armor. Cody and I spent a good half hour assembling all of the pieces that made up my final ensemble:

  • A pair of heavy, black galoshes
  • Snowpants
  • My Northeastern hoodie sweatshirt
  • A wire-mesh garbage can (for a helmet)
  • Leather work gloves

Duct tape sealed each “joint” in the suit, with the hood of the sweatshirt serving as an expanded neck to accommodate the mouth of the trashcan-turned-helmet. So armored, and equipped with a flashlight, an extending paint roller rod, and the wasp spray, I marched out to face my foes. Try as I might, I couldn’t see the nest. I needed more light. Assembling several extension cords, Cody and I ran a line out into the front yard to flood the tree with our ultra-bright halogen work-light. Now, the nest was visible.

As luck would have it, I couldn’t reach it. Just a few inches short. We attached a paint roller to the end of the rod, thereby extending its reach another foot or so. I could now use it to grab hold of the branch, bring it lower, and completely saturate the nest with wasp killer. I also spent a few minutes whacking at the nest, trying to knock it apart as best as I could.

Through all of this, there was no sign of a wasp. Was this nest old? Abandoned?

Satisfied that the nest had been destroyed, Cody and I withdrew most of the tools into the house. I marched over to another bush where I had seen the beginnings of a nest and gave it a good spraying as well. To return inside, I went to the back door — just in case anything decided to attack. After Cody inspected me for hangers-on through the screen door, I headed inside and doffed my armor.

The lack of corpses — or even attackers — left me somewhat unsatisfied. Had the entire endeavor been in vain?

Until last night, I had never attended a professional concert. I had seen high school/college bands play, but never a pro, touring band. That all changed yesterday, when I popped my concert cherry with my favorite band, Great Big Sea. I could not have asked for better.

They played at the South Shore Music Circus in Cohasset, which is essentially a bunch of food kiosks surrounding a large circus tent with a stage in the middle. We had amazing seats, not 10 feet from the stage. The show opened with another Canadian musician, Chris Velan. Cody and I were both surprised by Velan; he was an excellent musician, and did some great stuff using a recording/playback box controlled by his feet. He’d use it to drum on his guitar, keep that drum beat going throughout the song, and then mix in guitar licks. The effect was five or six musicians’ worth of music, all played by one guy with an acoustic guitar.

After a 20 minute intermission, Great Big Sea took the stage with Donkey Riding, and followed with a playlist that included several songs I hadn’t yet heard (and which I have yet to identify), as well as: A Boat Like Gideon Brown (also new to me), Beat the Drum (also new to me, and a new favorite), Captain Kidd, Consequence Free, Everything Shines, General Taylor, I’m a Rover, Jack Hinks, Mari-Mac, The Night Pat Murphy Died, Ordinary Day, and When I’m Up.

They modified the chorus for Pat Murphy from “Some of the girls got loaded drunk, and they ain’t been sober yet” to “The Massachusetts girls got loaded drunk, but what can you expect?” At one point, Sean—whose hair is getting longer—randomly broke into My Way, as well. After they left the stage, the crowd started chanting “Great Big Sea!” and they encored (surely pre-planned) with The Old Black Rum.

There were a couple of really young girls there (couldn’t have been more than 5 years old) and throughout the show, Alan—now sporting a mighty beard, presumably from his role as Allan A’Dayle in Ridley Scott‘s upcoming Robin Hood film, starring Russell Crowe—would give them guitar picks. It was very cute. They bantered quite a bit, much to the entertainment of the audience. Alan lamented that they were the only band to have played at the South Shore Music Circus that hadn’t been on Letterman, which prompted much of the audience to shout that Conan was better anyway. At one point, Sean noticed that his beater finger (Alan: “Is that a euphemism I should know about?”) had a blister since it had been so long since they’d last played. An audience member supplied him with a band-aid, which he made a great show of putting on. He then held out the now-bandaged middle finger to Alan, demanding that he kiss it.  He also claimed that the lozenges(?) he was eating throughout the show were pure methamphetamine.

Later, Alan and Sean were discussing in what direction the band would go next, raising the possibility of folk music. They didn’t know how to define folk music, though, so they asked Bob, who responded, “I play folk music.” We were in the section closest to Bob, and it was fantastic watching him play the accordion and fiddle. The man is a master. During one song, while Sean was singing, Alan came over to our section and asked everyone in the first few rows “Are you having fun? Are you having fun?” It’s great how much they really care that their audience has a good time.

All in all, they played for close to two hours, without a break (except the pre-encore interlude of perhaps two minutes). Absolutely phenomenal.

So, I totally caved last night in my resolve to not consider returning to EVE until I had finished Wec: The Sequel.  I realized how enjoyable chatting about EVE with my friends was and decided that it was time to go back.  Historically, I have gotten bored with EVE because I haven’t been doing things with a group for a cause that yielded measurable results.  As my weight loss post shows, I thrive on measurable results.  If I can see progress being made, it encourages me.  If I can see regress happening, it galvanizes me to action.  If I can’t see it, though, then I get bored and lose investment.  The first time I played EVE, as TX-223, I didn’t really know most of the people in the corp I had joined, so I didn’t feel particularly driven to help them.  The second time, as Kaito, I tried to found and run a corp of friends.  But we were all nascent and getting a corp off the ground is a tough prospect when you don’t have a clear ambition in mind.  Coupled with the fact that Cody wasn’t having any fun playing, this led me to stop again.  

This time, Chris — who was involved in our little mini-corp — found a corp that seems really cool.  I spent some time chatting with them (after re-activating my account) and they seem like good people.  They’re also committed to one another, they have a screening process for new recruits, and in general seem to have good heads about the whole thing.  They own a small chunk of null space and defend it fiercely, which is neat.  Finally, I’ll have a place to learn to PvP and feel like I’m contributing to something!

The major concern from all of this, though, is how it will impact my schedule.  I have a lot of stuff on my plate right now that I’m trying to juggle, and EVE is another large timesink.  I’m going to have to strive to be much more diligent about my use of time, and not sit around idling on things I can deal with later (like reading SDN…).  I’m going to give it my best shot, though.

I had the opportunity to play my first Savage Worlds game last night. I am an instant fan! The GM utilized the ruleset to run a game based on the Japanese Ultraman TV show and we all had a blast playing it. Savage Worlds uses several of my favorite mechanics in clever ways.

Savage Worlds replaces the common dice mechanic — something I often champion — with a variable dice mechanic. Larger die indicate greater skill (i.e. d6 is more skilled than d4). After playing with it, I see merits to both approaches. However, only one die is rolled and this often conjures up feelings of nerd rage.

Savage Worlds abates that rage with a second die factored into every roll: the wild die. In addition to your normal roll (be it d4, d6, d8, etc), you also always roll a d6 and take the better of either die. While not as preferable as a bell curve, the mechanic is interesting enough that it alleviates the normal d20 problem of “I’m an expert, but rolled a 2!”

Also included are die explosions, like one finds in Storytelling and 7th Sea. Any die can explode when it rolls the highest number (i.e. d4 explodes on a roll of 4, d6 on 6, etc.), which results in rolling that die again and adding the new roll to the previous one. This can happen indefinitely, and we saw several double- and triple -explosions last night. This also applies to the wild die, and you can decide after rolling all your explosions which of the two die you wish to keep.

Savage Worlds includes a mechanic by which excellent role-playing, cool actions, and so forth are rewarded by the GM with a “benny” that may be later traded in for a re-roll, avoidance of wounds, and so forth. This mimics the drama die of 7th Sea and hero points of Mutants & Masterminds, and is a mechanic I favor. Dare I say that systems lacking such a mechanic are outdated? I do indeed.

There are a number of smaller interesting quirks to the system, too. The usual target for a check of any kind is 4, and beating the target by multiples of 4 results in raises, which yield better results. Damage is either sustained or avoided based on your toughness, and may be soaked via use of a benny. A simple hit with no raises results in being ‘shaken.’ Another shaken result produces a wound, and any raises on a hit can result in wounds, too. Wounds are crippling and can pile on very quickly, making avoiding damage at all a major strategy (as it ought to be!). Each wound imposes a penalty on every roll you make.

All in all, it’s a lot of fun to play and contains a number of neat ideas that I might try and adapt for my own homebrew mechanics.

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