After seeing the UnusAnnusvideo challenging viewers to #MarchusAnnus, a commitment to build a better habit or learn a new skill by practicing every single day for the month of March, I made the decision to rebuild my writing by making a post in my blog everyday.
I would consider this a success to my goal. The biggest up to it is that I have found a story within me that I feel is worth writing. Now I just have to find the time to continue writing it.
That brings me to my next topic, and I know I’ve already written about it. After today I will be cutting my posting to 2-3 times a week. Originally it was to focus more on On the Edge of Sight, now it’s more a survival mechanism for writing it at all. Outside of working from home, which had me finding myself cleaning, baking, fixing, and keeping up with work, I’m now watching our two wonderful little handfuls of energy and a distinct lack of self preservation. I mean our young sons.
It has been two days and I’m already wore out. I feel for the parents who have been doing this, some for only the past few weeks due to the COVID-19 outbreak and others still who have been doing this their entire parenting lives. I’m only scrapping the surface of what you have been doing. Also, if you are reading this and stuck at home your parent(s) because school is closed, do something to help out around home, clean something without complaining about it, do some laundry, cook dinner (if that’s something you’re capable of, know your limits, don’t burn down the house). Basically just do something nice for your parents, they probably haven’t had to spend every waking moment with you for years and, despite the love, it’s probably driving them nuts.
I’m not at all upset with how this challenge turned out for me and I feel like I learned something new, in a roundabout way. I learned that I could come up with an original story that excited me to write. I’ve wanted to write a novel for a long time but was having a hard time coming up with an idea that I considered novel. Now I just have to overcome all of my other challenges and my desire to play the new Animal Crossing.
A heartfelt thank you to everyone who has read my posts during this month, and a greater thank you to everyone who has followed or provided feedback. I will continue to post and update my twitter, both when I post and when I feel like I’ve hit a milestone with On the Edge of Sight.
I have completed 31 consecutive day(s) of posting to my blog for #MarchusAnnus. #UnusAnnus #MomentoMori. Check out UnusAnnus and subscribe to their channel before it’s too late.
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There is no right way to write a piece of fiction. That is certain. Awarding winning, best selling, top authors agree on this fact. I know this because I was feeling a little concerned about my writing process, which stalled today, and did some research into the process of writing a novel.
The Stall and the Virus
First, let’s start with the stall. I’ve taken on the duty of watching both my children while trying to work from home. I’m sure by now everyone is aware of the COVID-19 pandemic, while some nutcases seem to still think it’s not a big deal, or worse are offering to sacrifice themselves for the good of the economy. I am in complete agreement that social distancing and other efforts to “flatten the curve,” as the say, are very important, and at this time my wife is unable to have the luxury of not going into work everyday. So, I am at home and we’re keeping the children out of daycare for the time being.
I don’t normally get worked up on this platform, but for anyone who would willingly contract this virus or even subject themselves to possible infection, simply to save the economy, you are the most short sighted, idiotic, backwater, dumb-asses the world has ever bared witness to. Were it not for the strain on the healthcare system I would welcome their painful death from inevitable drowning on their own fluids caused by the pneumonia symptoms of this virus.
There in lies the rub, however. The strain that they would put on the healthcare system would lead to a breakdown in adequate care for those who are not throwing themselves “on the sword” for a cause that is quickly invalidated when you look at how much worse the economy would be if people are too scared to continue going anywhere because they wouldn’t be able to receive medical care if they did catch this or any other potentially life threatening disease. Worse yet everyone who had some other potentially life threatening condition, like stroke or heart attack, would not be able to receive life saving treatment. Don’t get me started on the back peddling and pivoting of the position of the one person that is supposed to be giving clear and informed direction in this country.
The Research and the Process Realization
I did a little research, and I do mean little, due to my concern about my writing process not stacking up, or setting myself up for failure. Thinking about it now, I was probably just overwhelmed with wanting to write, but not being able to find time to get things down through chasing my two boys all over the house for hours. All before lunch, then having to lay with the younger one to get him to stay asleep at nap time. Followed by more of the same after nap was over. Until my wife got home, then I took a shower, ate dinner and split bedtime duties with her. Boring story, good exercise for writing something vivid about the mundane.
Everyone is in bed, save me, and I’m now writing this post. I know, I could be writing more On the Edge of Sight, but I committed myself to writing a post everyday this month, no matter what that post was about, as part of #MarchusAnnus. Given slowly growing number of readers that I have, you already know what that is, if you don’t, then go check out this video and the UnusAnnus YouTube channel. With that said, tomorrow may not be more On the Edge of Sight either. In fact, it might be more like on the edge of sleep.
This is what I’ve discovered through my in depth, thorough, 12 minute dive into novel writing styles. I seem to write somewhere between a “plotter” and a “pantser.” If you are unfamiliar with the terms, I was until recently, the former is an author who writes an outline before a story, they plan their plot; the latter is someone who writes the story without an outline without a plan, writing by the seat of their pants. Apparently, through my limitless knowledge of the subject gained from researching quicker than it takes to cook a frozen pizza, both have benefits and drawbacks. Some of the biggest “pantsers” say their method allows for more natural character choices. Supposedly, “plotters” work on outlines keeps them on track with the plot.
As I previously stated, I write somewhere between a “plotter” and a “pantser.” I write by the seat of my outlines pants. My storyboard is my outline, and it exists maybe one or two plot turns ahead of the written story. Here is where my concern comes in, I’m at a point where if I continue writing my story I will run out of storyboard to write from. Normally I’m cool with that, but with the length of this story I’m trying to keep details together and I use the storyboard for that purpose, it is my recap version of the story so far. It contains direction of plot and important details, where the story connects the dots and fills in the blanks for the rest of the detail.
I’m now finding it hard to balance the #MarchusAnnus challenge of posting everyday, writing On the Edge of Sight, working, watching the kids, and not losing my mind along the way. Maybe it’s just because it’s a new situation and I haven’t really gotten into the rhythm, or maybe it’s just a little too much to chew on and I need to rethink my plan. The good news is it’s nearing the end of March, and I’ve committed to cut back on post frequency starting in April, this should give me more writing time to put towards the storyboard and the story.
The Takeaway
Put simple, life is not easy and not fair, and it’s not supposed to be. It’s supposed to be a challenge, I feel like if it isn’t a challenge then I’m not getting the most out of it. Sometimes life throws lemons at us and if you work hard enough to get through that time, maybe life will throw you a cake. Don’t ever let what goes on around you get you down, most of that stuff is out of your control. If it does get you down, don’t be afraid to seek help. Being able to take on what’s out of your control with your chin held high cannot be done if you don’t take care of you, mentally, physically, or emotionally. Don’t push through unless you know that you have yourself in a good place and you will be able to handle every lemon life throws at you, because the wrong lemon at the wrong time might just get the better of you. So make life take those lemons back, and get yourself a piece of the cake (except if the cake is a lie).
There have been 30 day(s) since the last non-creation day. This marks 30 consecutive day(s) of posting for #MarchusAnnus. #UnusAnnus #MomentoMori. Check out UnusAnnus and subscribe to their channel before it’s too late.
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The hooded figure of Bobby Pelson had been completely still since Miles said “here it comes.” A rush of darkness swept across the screen, like a black wind coming from the left side of the image. At the same time the footage began to distort heavily then quickly returned to the clear as mud, grainy image from before. Ray’s eyes started to widen, until he remembered that he was trying not to tip off Miles to how much he really knew about this situation. Ray knew exactly what the flash of midnight was, after all he had a run in with it a day earlier.
“See, that’s, I mean,” the murky streak obviously rattled Miles, “what the hell could cause that?”
Ray didn’t even have a chance to feign his ignorance before Miles interrupted. “Wait, wait. Watch what happens next.” Miles tapped on the screen.
The shadow jumped around the store from shelf to shelf, lines of the image would shift with every jump. It approached Bobby then came to a complete stop, in position only. It appeared to shift and jitter the entire time it sat in front of Bobby. One thing that could be made out is that it appeared to sit in front of Bobby, with a shape that was reminiscent of a dog.
Ray was now getting a clear look at the creature. He had a dossier on animals like this one, made of shadow. The organization that Ray had been secretly working for called these things edge-creatures. There were few of these edge-creatures that had been identified, they didn’t usually move through the visible parts of the world. They lived on the edges, the spaces ‘inbetween’ visible things. However, this shape was seen relatively frequently, due to its likeness to dogs it was given the classification edge-hound. He made a mental note to do more research back at the office.
Back on the security footage they could see Bobby reach his hand out, palm up, to the edge-hound. It dropped something into Bobby’s hand, but the distortion, caused by the beast being there, made it impossible to make out on the recording. Its task complete, the dog of shadow took off as fast as entered
“What was that?” Ray urgently requested.
“We’ve been trying to figure that out,” Miles conceded, “but finding a single missing item in a mom and pop retail operation like this is going to depend on how well they keep inventory.”
Miles walked Ray back to the front of the store. Ray took a quick look around the shelves, hoping to find something out of place. He recalled all shelves where the creature jumped. Careful reasoning notwithstanding, there was no evidence to support any concrete conclusion.
Miles tried to get some answers again, “so, do you know what that was on the camera?”
“I have an idea.” Ray answered flatly.
“Well what is it?” Miles sought some clarity on something he had a hard time wrapping his head around.
“Haven’t I helped you with this kind of thing before?” Ray provided some peace of mind, but no such clarity.
Ray reached into his pockets and fished around for his rabbit’s foot. Once found, he pulled his keys out and took a step towards the door. Miles stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.
“Ray, don’t you have anything I can use?” Miles pleaded.
“I’ve got to get on this quick.” Ray became more serious, “do what you can here, I’ll be in touch if I have anything for you.” Miles lifted his hand from Ray’s shoulder. Ray continued to walk out the front door of the store. He gave another nod to the officer at the perimeter as he stepped over the tape. Opening the car door he ducked down into the yellow roadster, fired up the engine, and sped off on a slightly different path from the way he came.
There have been 29 day(s) since the last non-creation day. This marks 29 consecutive day(s) of posting for #MarchusAnnus. #UnusAnnus #MomentoMori. Check out UnusAnnus and subscribe to their channel before it’s too late.
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Oh, you don’t believe me? That’s fine, don’t believe me, I don’t believe me either. However, if it wasn’t for Animal Crossing: New Horizons I would have gotten to bed at an acceptable hour last night. I would have gotten enough sleep, and I wouldn’t have a headache right now.
That might be an exaggeration. If it wasn’t Animal Crossing it probably would have been Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, on Master Mode. But thanks to the newest wholesome bit of entertainment, from the fairy godmothers of the video game industry, I was up late creating tiles for a plaza to go around Blathers’s museum.
Now I get that some people who read this might not know what I’m on about, but you should. You really should.
It’s this, coupled with an active one and a half year old and an opinionated five year old that is taking most of my time today. In fact I’m writing this on my phone, a few words typed with every little break in the action. Did I mention that the younger one decided it would be a good idea to wake at 3 in the morning, and again at 5.
Combine the inevitabilities of children with a highly customizable world filled with cute animal neighbors and puns for days. That is why it’s Nintendo’s fault. Besides the almost two dozen patterns I created to make bordered plaza tiles of all configurations, there are also two fish I haven’t caught that leave the northern hemisphere at the end of March.
Yet I love it. I love how wholesome it is, I love that I can share it with my children and my wife.
I also love getting out of debt, doesn’t everyone, and then getting back into debt; curse my capitalist consumerism ways. On top of that I love to fill the source of my debt with things, as one should. Things with varying degrees of usefulness. In the case of Animal Crossing, mostly useless. In the meantime I’m working my adorable, little, island butt off making the museum happen, making the local shop a reality, and furnishing the homes of future residents to my island. All for the purpose of progress, or more useless stuff.
The best part of all, it’s really up to you, as the player. How hectic versus how chill the game can be all has to do with a reflection of how you play it. It was the same when I played Animal Crossing on the Gamecube back in the day. Needless to say I’m satisfied with the thought that my nights will be a little more sleepless going forward, since I’m still writing On the Edge of Sight.
I know one thing for certain, I’m cutting back my post frequency a bit after March. Something like 2 to 3 times a week, with more of my writing process and larger On the Edge of Sight posts. It’s really an effort to focus on writing On the Edge of Sight to completion. I need to complete an outline, then the story board so I can get the story fully fleshed out.
Anyway, I’m looking forward to a looming thunderstorm as I finish this up. Everyone stay safe, stay at home if you can, stay healthy, and stay tuned.
There have been 28 day(s) since the last non-creation day. This marks 28 consecutive day(s) of posting for #MarchusAnnus. #UnusAnnus #MomentoMori. Check out UnusAnnus and subscribe to their channel before it’s too late.
If you like this post, please share the link anywhere you like, and consider following, liking, and leaving a comment with what you think or any ideas.
With a gentle push the manager’s office door opened to a desk with a computer terminal on one side and a monitor for the security system on the other side. Miles held the door and gestured Ray to lead the way. They circled around the desk where Ray waited for the show to start. Miles pressed the rewind button on the old fashioned, VHS recorded, closed circuit camera system.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, last time you had one of these you couldn’t even set the clock,” Ray jabbed, trying to lighten the air.
“Yeah, yeah, I know what I’m doing,” Miles scoffed. “Just watch.” He instructed when his finger hit the play button. He pointed Ray’s attention at the middle right of the screen.
Ray watched as the scene played out from the beginning. The store was empty. The shelves and products were all in the black and white gradient that is suggestive of an infrared camera. It was dark and the camera did not capture in high resolution. Everything was still, just like it should have been. It was silent, but that was inferred since the cameras did not capture sound.
Within 30 seconds of starting something quickly came into picture from the bottom of the screen, it looked like it would have to have been from the rear of the camera. It hit a shelf and fell to the ground. Almost instantly after the first object entered, it was followed by a shimmering that indicated it was the glass from the window. This meant the first object was the rock that broke the window.
The shadow of a person could be seen cast across the floor of the store thanks to a street light outside. Occasionally the shadow would jitter with the video tape tracking mechanism, but Ray notice there was no tracking and the rest of the image remained still. The shadow moved left across the image the faded into the shadow of the wall. Though it was off camera, it was clear that the person did not enter through the window. They came through the door. Ray thought, “the door was unlocked? Why go through all the trouble of breaking the window without trying the door first?”
The individual entering the store was wearing a hoodie and facing away from the camera when they entered. The height strip, conveniently located at the end of the first aisle, gave away that the robber was five foot, eight inches tall. The creeper was an average build, stood up straight, and had shoulders broader than hips. The given information and all the stats told Ray that this was a male perpetrator.
The suspect walked with a purpose, he moved towards the fourth aisle, turned abruptly, and walked a few paces before turning towards the camera. His face was obscured by the shelving fixture that held the, now stolen, heavy duty cleaning chemicals. The camera caught him grabbing cleaners off the shelves by the armfuls.
This criminal turned back toward the cash register in the same fashion as before, and looked like that was his next destination. However, when he made it to the end of the aisle he turned again, toward the exit, fully facing the camera with no coverings on his face.
Ray immediately recognized him. It was Bobby Pelson, one of the students that had been acting suspiciously recently, and therefore one of the students Ray has been following. Ray’s notes read as follows.
Bobby Pelson: Slacker and lay about. 5’8”, 145 lbs Hasn’t been to a single class for at least 3 weeks. Spotted occasionally around campus for the past 2 weeks, per eyewitnesses “looked to be on drugs other than the usual.”
However, Ray refused to get his notes out and tip Miles to the idea that he knows the suspect.
“Here it comes,” Miles light up with anxious anticipation, “just watch!”
There have been 27 day(s) since the last non-creation day. This marks 27 consecutive day(s) of posting for #MarchusAnnus. #UnusAnnus #MomentoMori. Check out UnusAnnus and subscribe to their channel before it’s too late.
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This is Day 26 of #MarchusAnnus challange. A little more On the Edge of Sight. Links to the other parts are available at the bottom of this post.
Miles led them over to the checkout counter, then pointed towards the window. “It looks like standard B&E,” he shifts his focus to the aisle directly opposing the checkout counter, “followed by petty theft.” Miles put his hands back down and turned to face Ray, who was not impressed with the recount of the situation. In fact, he was quite stone-faced. Miles was trying to lead Ray into his own line of thinking.
“All right, that’s all very clear,” Ray’s gears began to turn, “now why did you call me out here?”
All at once the mischievous smile and color drained from Miles’s face. Though he was leading Ray to that question, Miles’s was not at all excited with giving the answer. His reticence was noticeable, and Ray was growing more impatient by the second.
“Spit it out old man,” Ray pushed.
Miles gestured towards the back of the store and said, “it’s what’s on the security footage,” his tone was now timid.
Ray thought to himself, “what could make Miles this uneasy?” He followed Miles to the back room, and was soon to find out.
This is where the debate comes in. I know this is extremely short, and I have a, I won’t say good, reason for that. I’m having this internal debate on whether to continue the scene from here or transition to Price’s first day of classes at RVU. The bigger problem is that I’m fighting a headache, still need to mow the lawn, and have yet to decide how exciting or boring class will be for Price.
On one hand having an exciting, e.g. things don’t “exactly” follow the syllabus (i.e. things go horribly awry), could create wonderful filler and potential character and plot development. On the other hand, it’s his first day at the new university (in my experience, relatively uneventful, but my experience is limited) and it might feel like far too much is going on for it to have been right under everyone’s nose for weeks.
So I’m going to go about my mundane responsibilities, to include mowing the lawn while listening to heavy metal. I know that there is no possible way I’ll be able to do that without thinking about it, so I’m sure I’ll come up with something, but this is all I’m posting today. I do apologize about how short it is, I’ll try to make it up to anyone reading this by consolidating all the parts into a single post, soon.
There have been 25 day(s) since the last non-creation day. This marks 25 consecutive day(s) of posting for #MarchusAnnus. #UnusAnnus #MomentoMori. Check out UnusAnnus and subscribe to their channel before it’s too late.
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This is Day 25 of #MarchusAnnus challange. Continuing On the Edge of Sight. Links to the other parts are available at the bottom of this post.
The key turned in the ignition starting the straight-6 gasoline engine. It purred like the day it came off the factory more than 40 years ago. The gearbox smoothly transitioned into, and promptly out of, reverse. The engine begged for more work as it the roadster crept through the parking lot.
Ray eased the yellow runabout to the exit of the parking lot, cranked the steering wheel to the right and kicked the pedal down with urgency. The car entered the road, while the rear end slide across the yellow line. It left the telltale black mark of rubber on the pavement all the way back to the shoulder. The rear passenger tire caught some gravel when it reached the shoulder, spitting rocks out behind it. When the tires got purchase of the road it shot off like a yellow arrow.
Ray’s pressing business was in River Valley proper, a short drive from the university, maybe ten minutes at this pace. The road was flanked with densely dispersed coniferous trees for miles until it crossed over the Camlin River. At the bridge the sign posted on the side of the road read ‘Now Entering City of River Valley.’ The road became Main Street from that point through to the other side of the city.
Life was quiet in River Valley. The occasional rowdy party, usually put on by the high school seniors, had to be broken up by the local police. Once in a blue moon there would be a DUI in the newspaper and rarer still did that end with the intoxicated driver wrapping their vehicle around a tree or street light. On a regular day it was more coffee and newspaper’s, greetings and deliveries, cars passing and lunch meetings, kids with book bags and kitchen table dinners, street lights and silent nights.
Today was not a normal day in River Valley. Ray didn’t let off the gas until he could see Gabbard’s Hardware, where he whipped the little yellow roadster in the nearest parking space outside the police tape. He turned off the ignition and opened the car door, returning the rabbits foot to his pocket as he stepped onto the pavement. He took off his sunglasses and had a look around the town. It never mattered how long anyone stayed away from River Valley, it always looked the same, and this baffled Ray every time he looked around the city.
Once Ray overcame his bewilderment, then realized he came here for a reason he moved towards the hardware store. He stepped over the bright yellow perimeter line and was quickly greeted by a uniformed officer with an extended hand and a partial scowl.
He approached Ray. “Oh Mr. Spence, you can go on.” The officer quickly recognized Ray from his monthly lunch meetings with the Chief of Police. Ray made it a point to have a good working relationship with law enforcement in the area, he also frequented the nearby Sheriff’s Department as well as the state investigation offices. With a respecting nod Ray continued to walk up to the store.
The store was built with a brick façade with a large picture window, which was now several angular pieces of glass and three sheets of plywood, at the front. Crime scene tape was crisscrossed over the broken window frame. The glass door signaled the visitors inside with the ring of a bell when Ray opened it. A few crime scene investigators and detectives turned their head towards the door.
“Don’t everyone greet me at once,” Ray commented sarcastically. “Who’s in charge of this investigation?” Ray asked, of course he already knew who that was when he received a phone call this morning.
“Ray.” A throaty voice spoke flatly.
“Miles.” Ray deadpanned.
Detective Miles Tanner was at the head of every one of the few criminal investigations in River Valley. Miles had a kind look to his face and generally greeted everyone he bumped into warmly. His face beguiled his lack of patience with the ignorant. He was known as ‘No Bullshit’ Tanner in the River Valley Police Department. It was often drunks or punk kids who found this out the hard way, but the occasional wet behind the ears rookie was on the receiving end of Miles’s stern attitude and spitfire witticisms.
When the serious faces could no longer be held, both men gave a light chuckle. With a smile, the old friends shook hands. The greetings started with “good to see you,” and “how’ve you been,” then carried on as each caught the other up on everything since they last talked. Ray had a moment to remember why he came to town and the smile washed from his face.
“So, what’s the scene?” Ray pushed the conversation toward the heart of the matter.
There have been 25 day(s) since the last non-creation day. This marks 25 consecutive day(s) of posting for #MarchusAnnus. #UnusAnnus #MomentoMori. Check out UnusAnnus and subscribe to their channel before it’s too late.
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In the parking lot, Ray reached into his pocket. After a quick search he found something with fur all over it and cool metal at the edge. He withdrew a rabbit’s foot keychain from his pocket. Below the faux brass fitting was a short loop of bead chain with two keys hanging off. One was a nickel Kwikset variety of house key. The other was unique brass key. The head of the key was in the shape of a grill from an automobile built in the 1930’s, the grill rested in a short, wide U-shaped ribbon; the word ‘TRIUMPH’ stamped on the ribbon.
The key fit into the door of a small roadster with ‘TR6’ written on the rear quarter immediately in front of the amber reflector. The exterior was still the original yellow applied at the factory, known as ‘Mimosa Yellow.’ Since the morning was brisk, the black vinyl rag top was covering the cab. The black interior matched the top, but insisted the car be parked in the shade.
Ray thought back, still able to recall when he bought the car in 1998. He spent an entire weekend, with a friend of times past, to make the trip just to see the condition of the roadster. It had been parked under a tarp, in an old barn, on a farm in middle Illinois for the better part of twenty years. The farm had changed hands and the new owner found the car when cleaning up the barn. Unable to get it to start, the new owner decided to put it up for sale. The ad that reached Ray was in a nationally distributed magazine, it read; ‘1973 Triumph TR6, Soft Top, Yellow ext. Black int., Not sure how long it’s been sitting. Looks good. Does not start, project or parts car. All reasonable offers considered.’
When they got there, Ray got a good look at the vehicle. It was all original and the ad was right the car looked to be in good condition. It just failed to start. He asked the seller if anything had been tried to rectify the not starting problem. “No, never had an interest, just trying to get it out of my barn,” the seller confessed. Ray looked under the hood and thought for a moment, he tried to create some tension. After a moment, Ray turned to the seller, “I’ll give you two thousand for it,” he offered.
The seller thought on it, remembering that he had been trying to offload this car for the past two years. He accepted with, “all right, you load it up and I’ll get the title ready.”
Ray and his friend pushed the little two-seater up onto the trailer they brought along. Shortly after strapping it down the deal was complete and they hit the road.
They stopped for the night somewhere between Chicago and home. Again, Ray got under the hood of the Triumph, while his friend got a room. Ray spent half the night looking over everything in the engine bay of the little yellow roadster. By midnight he turned in with an idea.
The missed sleep was productive. When morning came Ray convinced his friend to stop by a parts dealer. It was there that he picked up a fuel pump. Upon replacing the pump he did a further inspection of the old fuel pump. The pump diaphragm was completely deteriorated. Knowing there was a less expensive fix, Ray kept the old pump to rework and keep for spare. The Triumph was more than able to make it home on its own power. Ray drove the last leg of the trip in his lovely new roadster. With the top down and the open road, Ray felt like his whole life lay before him.
There have been 24 day(s) since the last non-creation day. This marks 24 consecutive day(s) of posting for #MarchusAnnus. #UnusAnnus #MomentoMori. Check out UnusAnnus and subscribe to their channel before it’s too late.
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I don’t have any new part of On the Edge of Sight to provide as of now. I took most of today to storyboard the next complete section (note: not complete story). The plot thickens, as they say. Well, I’ve never heard it used outside of an ironic context, but you get my drift. I should have no problem providing a new piece of the story tomorrow, mostly thanks to the story-boarding I completed today. I should have some good uninterrupted writing time, too, since I’ve been asked to work from home for the week.
As I stated in a previous post I like to spend the first part of the morning filling in my storyboard with pertinent plot points. However I can get a little carried away when it comes to dialog. I try to type up as little of it as I can, while still getting down the point I want to make. Same thing goes for descriptive or scene setting parts; I try to keep it minimal in the storyboard, but it can get out of hand because I want to make sure I don’t forget an important piece of information before I write out the whole piece.
I’ve also decided I’m going to have to go back through some of the previous parts and beef them up, while trying to keep from droning on too much. As much as I realize there are no hard-fast rules for how long a chapter or story should be, I also don’t want to incorrectly pace a section for the intended audience. This means I have to do some research on adequate chapter length and how much info is too much info. Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m going to update any existing parts posted on here.
It’s not that I don’t want to share those updates, on the contrary. It’s more that I want to have a few surprises if/when I complete this story (my history says if, while my engagement in this story says when). Besides I don’t have many readers here, so if I did get it finished and published (likely as an eBook) I could see doing some sort of giveaway to those that actually visit this site.
Anyway, please read On the Edge of Sight. Then leave a like or comment and let me know what you think. If you got here via Twitter then reply to my tweet if that’s what you’re comfortable with. If you have someone in your life that likes to read, please share this with them.
Also, as a mention, I’d like to again thank UnusAnnus, Markiplier, and CrankGameplays for the #MarchusAnnus challenge. It started me back down the path of writing and finding this story within me. I’d also like to thank everyone that has every supported me while I do this thing that seems silly to me to start this late in my life. Better late than never.
Links to all the section of On the Edge of Sight can be found below:
There have been 23 day(s) since the last non-creation day. This marks 23 consecutive day(s) of posting for #MarchusAnnus. #UnusAnnus #MomentoMori. Check out UnusAnnus and subscribe to their channel before it’s too late.
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It was starting to look like the book never existed, and that would make Price seem out of his mind.
While others might be routed by such strange findings, Price was not so easily dissuaded. It was time for some problem solving, so he stopped to think of other ways to prove this book existed and where it truly belongs. He put his hand to the side of his face, as though he was looking for some sort of idea button hidden on the just above his hairline.
“That’s it!” He thought, almost audibly. “Clearly Ray must have put it back where it belonged.” Just to verify this line of reasoning he thought to head back to the book directory to find the book.
Price took on an expression of determination, like a child dismissed for a correct, but naïve answer to a complex question. He was determined to find this book and insure it was in its proper home. Arriving at the computer terminal used for the library’s directory, he pulled his chair over to take a seat and begins to type.
The search bar fills in, Travelers in the Inbetween, and with a strike of the enter key the system sets into motion. Nearly as quickly as the query was sent to the database of library contents, it was returned. The digital result was as perplexing as the analog reality. Zero results. There was no other information returned by the search application.
Looking at the screen gave Price a sinking feeling akin to motion sickness. It was physically here yesterday, he touched it, held it. He assured himself of his sanity and of the reality of the book Travelers in the Inbetween. He was certain the book must exist. His mind raced at the thought that he might have imagined the whole thing.
Maybe he remembered the title wrong, or it was input to the system incorrectly. That could be the answer. Price focused on one word in the title, something innocuous on the surface, but it was the very word that led him to believe that this book didn’t belong in non-fiction. Inbetween is not a word found in English dictionaries. It is two separate words, and, being the stickler he was about language, noticed this right away.
Price began a new search request to the electronic card catalogue. A single search term of an incorrect usage of a phrase transposed into a word: Inbetween. He thoughtfully pressed the return key and set in motion a search query. The time it was taking to provide results lead him to believe he was about to be validated in his conviction to find this book.
“Price!” He looked up to see that it was Ray, who was quickly walking over to the kiosk counter. Price did not pay attention to the computer screen when he moved his chair over to face the rapidly approaching Ray. It was evident that Ray had something very important on his mind, and his face illustrated that it was serious.
“What do you need?” Price offered sincerely. He had planned to ask Ray about the book when first he saw him. Price knew there would be plenty of time for that, now was not the right time.
“I have some pressing matters to attend in the city,” Ray was developing a habit of leading extra information. He followed with a request, “can you come back to the library after class and stay late?”
“Of course,” answered Price, eagerly. “How late do you need me to stay?”
Ray used this opportunity to build an alibi for his secret late night disappearances. “No later than nine, the students know they’re on their own after that,” That was a true statement, the library was always open, but that didn’t mean there was always someone available to assist. “And thank you,” he exclaimed.
When Ray turned around he pushed off the counter, it caused a small tremor just a couple of feet from where his hands were placed. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to knock a bin of binder clips that was already hanging over the edge. The binder clips spilled out across the lower counter on the inside of the ring shaped kiosk. While some fell to the floor, but more of them landed on the counter around the card catalogue terminal.
“Sorry about that.” Ray said apologetically, nearly out the door already.
“No worries.” Price proclaimed, already moving to clean up the mess.
It would have remained “no worries,” but the bin, that had once contained the, now spilled, binder clips, fell on the keyboard. It just caught the escape key, clearing the book search. Price could have just searched it again. However, the urgency of Ray’s request completely derailed Price’s thought process.
Price diligently cleaned up the binder clips. He searched under the chair and counter, then around the keyboard and monitor on the counter. Once he was certain he cleaned up all of them he realized it was time to prepare for his first class at River Valley, and he was an enthusiast for being prepared.
There have been 22 day(s) since the last non-creation day. This marks 22 consecutive day(s) of posting for #MarchusAnnus. #UnusAnnus #MomentoMori. Check out UnusAnnus and subscribe to their channel before it’s too late.
If you like this story so far, please share the link anywhere you like, and consider following, liking, and leaving a comment with what you think or any ideas.
The Original A.J. Young 