It’s finished. The monster that has taken over my life and kept me from reading more than two books this month (yes, let’s blame it, shall we?) is done. I uploaded my file to the NaNoWriMo website this evening and was certified a winner with 50,339 words. And to think that just days ago I was ready to give up. But I didn’t and just took a break, and then somehow performed the miracle of writing 10,000 words in two days, and I’ve finished two days early. Hooray.
I have no idea at this point if any of it is any good, or if there are any huge, gaping plot holes, so neither will you for a while. It’s going to sit, happily in my computer and wait for me to be ready to tackle reading it objectively. Then maybe you can read it.
I haven’t posted in forever, but I’m really not dead. I’m still working on my novel, which sometimes feels like death, but it’s actually coming along nicely. I stopped posting the chapters so that I could switch around things if I needed to without any suprises being spoiled for any of you sweet enough to be reading it.
I also am not reading much, and that really feels like death. I keep starting books and then forgetting about them, a byproduct (I think) of this crazy novel writing thing. I’m fiendishly behind on my book count, and if I’m going to make it to 100 by the end of December, I’m going to be binging in December. Actually, I just looked at it, and I’m only 6 books behind, which isn’t so bad. Could be worse. I just find it difficult to read at the same time that I’m writing so intensively, because either it affects the voice I’m writing in, or I just get discouraged because my writing isn’t as good as what I’m reading.
I’m trying to avoid the first problem by focusing on books with very distinct voices that are completely different than the voice of my book. I’m rereading The Basic Eight by Daniel Handler, a book that has one of the most distinct voices I can think of. I’m enjoying it just as much this time through as I did the first, and any problems that I thought might have been present as I finished it last time are actually satisfactorily taken care of.
Anyway, just wanted to let those of you still checking in know that death has not come to me, at least not yet.
There were no more forays into the spirit world that night. Dexter brought out a phonograph, and there was an attempt at dancing, but most of the party was unsettled by the serious turn the evening had taken. As Cynthia and Louisa lured Michael and Patrick onto the dance floor, Betsy sat with Dexter and Angela.
Dinner started promptly at five. Servants dressed in formal attire streamed from the kitchen, and Betsy wondered how they
The color had returned to Cynthia
The four women walked back into the conservatory.
Angela led the way out of the room. They walked into the center of the ballroom, and she gestured toward the ceiling.
Thanks for the comments so far, the encouragement has been extrememely helpful. Below is chapter 2- so if you haven’t read chapter 1 yet, scroll down and read that first. I’ll wait here.
Betsy sat with her eyes closed as the taxi rumbled down the long country road. While the address of The Mystery House was Los Angeles, it was set out in the far reaches, far from the glow of Hollywood. Angela had called, and pleaded for Betsy to come early, and Betsy had given in, despite the late hour she
The prologue and 1st chapter of MURDER AT THE MYSTERY HOUSE. Comments are welcome, as long as you don’t say anything discouraging. And if you’ve already figured out who did it, don’t tell me or I’ll cry.
Oh, and Elizabeth’s name will most likely be changed to Betsy- just so you all know.
You are enthusiastically invited
to join us for a
spooky and scary weekend
the Grand Opening
of The Mystery House
to the public.
Come prepared to contact
the other side.
Scairdy- cats can
stay at home.
October fifth through the eighth,
Ninteen hundred and twenty four.
1500 Bainley Circle, Los Angeles
Angela and Dexter Bently
The invitation lay in the middle of the pile of envelopes Mrs. Bandstock handed over the small counter that sat just inside the door of the boarding house. Elizabeth Malone nodded in thanks, and flipped casually through them as she walked toward the stairs that led to her small room. A bill from the department store for the winter coat she
The last Agatha Christie book that I read in preparation for NaNoWriMo (which starts today) was Black Coffee, which actually wasn’t written by her at all. Well, I guess that it was originally- the book is an adaptation of a stage play that Ms. Christie wrote back in 1930. The play was then adapted posthumously by a Charles Osbourne, who, while he is a decent writer, is no Agatha Christie. You can tell that the core of the story- the twists and turns- was concieved by Ms. Christie, but the writing itself is missing that special touch that is hers. It’s a decent read, the words just don’t sing.
And that leads me- albeit a bit negatively- to this years NaNoWriMo. For those of you who don’t know, NaNoWriMo is a word which in some language doubtless translates to “a group of crazy people who simultanously lose their minds in the month of November as they attempt to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days”. This madcap endeavor has been going on for a number of years, I’ve only participated for the last two years- the first year I quit after a day and last year I actually succeeded in finishing! This year the adventure begins anew, as I attempt to write a murder mystery. I have most of the pieces I need, now I just need to start writing. And of course, instead, I’m writing this, and cleaning my house. But I will start, and I will succeed. And maybe, if people are interested, I’ll post bits here as I go.