So I have a Facebook friend (Dave Cline) who has been providing some pretty good advice about "Bigfoot Ranch."

I'm not sure I can accommodate all the advice, but I'll need to do something close to what he's
suggesting. I think I can continue to write the book as is, because the advice all has to do with the McGuffin and the main character's motivation, which can change without changing the main character's actions, strangely enough.

Meanwhile, it looks like I might not need any super wilderness tricks after all, that some common sense evasions will be enough. I also don't appear to need any special outdoor journalist knowledge, either. I can look up a lot on Google. I'm going to still ask some people in that world to look at the manuscript and see if they have any advice, but if they can't do it, I think I can move forward anyway.

I may not actually spend as much time on the outdoors scenes as I expected anyway. I'd thought the outdoor part would be 2/3rds the book, but it may end up being more like half the book.

I'm guessing that in order to accommodate the McGuffin and motivation problems that I'm going to have to bring in the 3rd person character narration of the opening chapter throughout the book, with his own problems and adventures. I don't want him to be more than, say, 20% of the book, though.

I'm not going to worry about length. It will turn out all right, I'm pretty sure. I can usually find ways to texture in new material if I need to, and it usually actually helps the book.

It's going to be a little bit of a strange mix of humor and thriller. For instance, I have a scene where the main character is on the run, still wearing his Bigfoot costume for warmth because it has started to snow and an innocent hiker stumbles upon him and Hart jumps up and forgets he's wearing the costume and the guy screams and runs off.

Sort of funny and light. But later, Hart finds the guy dead, so not so funny. That sort of back and forth is there throughout the book. I can't help it. The trick is, I'm not trying to be funny. That would be deadly. The humor just sort of happens.

Meanwhile, my daily walk is the magic elixir for creativity. Over the last few days I've been stumped at the house, stumped in the shower, stumped at my desk, stumped napping on the bed, stumped on the drive out.

I start walking and within a quarter mile, the ideas just start flowing.

Which is both cool and scary. Because I'm afraid I've tied my writing process a little too closely to the walking, which isn't always possible.

Then again, I'm glad it's there!

I need wilderness tricks.

I've got my main character on the run in the woods, pursued by six hardened heavily armed mercenaries. So I need some believable things to happen where he manages to winnow them down one by one.

I've thought of traps, fire, rockfalls, flashfloods, bear dens, crossfire, snowfall, and so on, but whatever I do needs to sound believable.

The next half of the books things need to tighten up more and more for the hero, so that he barely survives, and is driven to more and more desperation. Then there needs to be the moment when he turns the tables on them, begins to take them out, for another third of the book, and then the final denoucement.

So far, the wilderness guide thing hasn't been as much of a hurdle as I expected, because its just been normal deer hunting, and I know how to do that.

Basically, everything from here on out is action, action, and more action.

I've noticed an uptick since the last time I mentioned this, so thought I'd give it a wiggle.

If you have Kindle Unlimited or Kindle Owner's Lending Library, you can read a bunch of my books for free--and I still get paid for every page you click!

So you can check me out painlessly.

Freedy Filkins, Fairie Punk, Blood of the Succubus, Burp the Burrow Wight, and I Live Among You, are all self published.

All pretty different kinds of books. 

"Freedy Filkins" is my cyberpunk Hobbit book, pretty light-hearted, fast read.

"Fairie Punk" is urban quest fantasy, my longest book, I thought it had a lot of originality.

"Blood of the Succubus" is sexy horror (fair warning). I do mean sex and horror.

"Burp the Burrow Wight" is a "Short Fable for Tall Children," very light.

"I Live Among You" is modern dark fantasy. Also a fast read, maybe even a little humorous?

I'm probably going to put up more of my finished books up soon because I'm realizing that going forward, I'm more likely to sell new stories to publishers than one's I've already written, strange as that sounds. 

I've allowed myself to be as quirky as I want up to now, but I'm being a little more directed right now (though still quirky, dammit.) 

 Still writing what I want but I'm paying more attention to what might sell.

"No one goes there anymore. It's too crowded." Yogi Berra.

I've been making this joke about downtown Bend for a few years now, especially when a Bendite tells me, "I don't go downtown if I can help it."

But the aphorism seems less like a joke to me now, and more like some kind of zen wisdom.

Whenever I travel to the west side of Bend, it seems cluttered and crowded. I almost breathe a sigh of relief when I reach the wider open spaces of the east side.

Paying a whole lot more for the privilege of living on the west side always seemed kind of nutty to me. The point is to find a nice place in a nice neighborhood. I guess there is the re-sale value, but if it is a final home, I'm not sure that matters as much.

Meanwhile, Redmond adds another large percentage in what you can buy. Wandering around our new neighborhood in Redmond it just feels slower, calmer, quieter, more small town.

But you know what? As far as making a living goes, there is no comparison. Downtown Bend is the place to be. I'm astounded by the numbers of customers coming in the door these days. I'm guessing a good third of them are either vacationers or newcomers. They are what make the difference between Pegasus Books doing well or not doing well.

Maybe it takes an oldtimer like me to appreciate it. I mean, I remember playing cribbage on the sidewalk with my neighbor and commenting that we could fire a cannon down the middle of the street and not hit anyone.

And that went on for years and years.

When the rents started to shoot up, I had to make a decision. All my neighbors left, but I decided to gut it out and I'm glad I did. The increased rent was covered by the increased business, which is what you would hope for. 

So complaining about traffic or parking seems sort of stupid, you know? I'm of the camp that believes that whatever capacity you create will soon be filled. So if you have an active business or shopping district, it will feel busy and crowded.

I suppose the best of both worlds is the have the business in Bend and the home in Redmond. Anyway, that's the way it's working out.

Buying a new house. In Redmond of all places.

Being a native Bendite, I never thought that would happen. Growing up, Redmond was our homecoming rivals, the other side of the tracks, hicks.

But let's face it, Redmond isn't Redmond anymore, and maybe even more importantly, Bend isn't Bend.

Bend is on some kind of ego trip.

Linda and I had the same experience we had last time we shopped for a house in Bend, 13 years ago. All the houses in our price range were crappy, or near the railroad tracks, or in a lousy neighborhood. When we walked into our present house we turned to each other and said, "This is it."

Don't know why this house was affordable back in 2004, but we grabbed it. It's a nice house and we fixed it up more and we're in a nice neighborhood. If it was up to me, we'd stay forever. However the traffic has grown over the years, the house has gotten older, and maybe it's time for a fresh start.

Anyway, Linda doesn't want to negotiate the stairs anymore on our split level house, so we needed a single story. Reluctantly, I agreed to look at Redmond--if we got more house for the same money.

In the end, we're going over our original budget by 20%, but we are getting a brand new custom built house, we're able to choose the flooring and colors and all the rest, a house that is 20% larger, a nice neighborhood on a cul-de-sac. It actually has space to go with the house, you know, real and psychic room between domiciles. (Horrifying how close most developers are building next to each other these days...yuck.)

So after circling the house for a week or so, we said yes. It had everything we had set out to find, every single thing was checked off. Now we have to assemble the financing and so on, pick all the accoutrements. It won't be ready until May 1, which is perfect, which gives me just about enough time to finish my WIP.

It's been hard to write. This is a test in a way. Can I handle real life and fictional life at the same time? I've never been able to manage it before, but then I've never been on a roll like this before. Mostly, I'm trying to let Linda handle it all, but I have to be there for the big decisions, so about half of the last ten days have been spent househunting. It's kind of fun, but impossible to write.

The commute doesn't bother me; hell, I drive the same distance everyday to to go for my walk in the Badlands. I'm sure I can find someplace new to traipse around near our new house.

I told Linda we have to reduce our fixed income withdrawals from retirement to the same exact proportion that we are overspending, which works out to a couple hundred dollars a month, and she's probably right to it's more important to have a house we really like than a couple extra hundred a month. It's not like we're world travelers.

We've been really lucky, knock wood. Things have worked out. Pegasus Books is still doing well, my writing is moving right along, we have our health mostly, and we are actually going to be able to retire with a little security (as much as anyone can have security these days.)

The one thing I'm going to spend a little money on myself is a used pickup I can go boony-stomping with, and which we can just throw our kayaks into the back of.

Knock wood again.

I'm going to try to hedgehog for the next 6 weeks or so, ignore the chaos, let Linda handle it, and just write. Probably spend a lot of time in the woods, I suspect. I'm really enjoying my new book and I'd really like to get a first draft completely done.

I had the experience a long time ago of blowing an opportunity. I'd sent Deviltree to a major publisher, and his response was; "If your next book is as good as this one, I'll buy both."

I met Linda at the same time, had instant family, bought a business. It took me two years to write that book, and then it was too late. ("I actually liked this book more," the editor said, "but I've changed my mind."

So I have an opening for a book right now, and I'm not going to let anything keep me from doing it. Get it done, do a rewrite, send it to Lara.

Then...I can devote all the time we need to the new house. 

 Meanwhile, I guess my old brag of "I"m a native Bendite" will have to be changed to "I'm a native Central Oregonian." Which doesn't have quite the same ring.

Well, shit.

My "thriller" has turned into a quirky little adventure story.

Damn.

I'll go ahead and finish it because I really like it, but I'm not sure it will fit the bill. Thing is, I can always write another book. I have a lot of confidence in my profligacy. 

Should have 10K words by the end of the day. It's just rolling off my fingers. I think because it's 1st person.

Chapters 2 and 3 and 4 of "The Last Honest Man" written on the same day. Moving right along.

I've always had a suspicion that 1st person narration is too easy. That's why I haven't done it until recently. I felt I needed the discipline of writing characters that weren't in any way me, who came completely from my imagination.

No matter how much I try to avoid it, when I'm writing in first person it's my own voice, one way or another.

In the current novel, most of the events that I talk about are things that happened to me, if not quite that way.

"I Live Among You" is the only novel I've written in 1st person, after writing more than 20 books in 3rd person. I recently wrote  a novella, "The Toad King," that is not only in 1st person but in present tense, but that was somehow different.

This current character, Hart Gallegher, isn't me and yet in many ways, he is me.

So what's wrong with that? Author's voice is all important, right?

The biggest problem is that it very hard to judge the quality. I'm not quite as objective about what I'm writing. I find it harder to cut words, or add words, based on some outside measure.

I've never had a hard time expressing myself. I can babble on endlessly about anything--and that's the danger. Instead of looking for "telling details" I'm afraid that I might be providing too many. I can't really tell.

Thing is, if this actually works, it will be enormously liberating. I will be able to just tell my stories in my own voice. I'll have the tone, the characters, and the setting I can live in.

How fun.

Chapter Two of my thriller, "The Last Honest Man," is done.

It isn't going at all in the direction I expected. In my head,  I have the framework for a proper thriller, but it's coming down on paper as something else-- something lighter. But...I like it. A lot.

It more Hiaasen than Lee Child, though I would never pretend to be as funny. It just has an easygoing tone, which probably isn't what you want in a thriller. But I like the characters already. I like the set up. I like the setting.

So I'm going to write it and hope for the best.

It sure as hell wants to be written. I've finished both chapters before noon. I wanted to stick to a one chapter a day pace, but I'm wondering if I should pick it up a little. 

If it doesn't work out to the editor's satisfaction, I can always write another book. But while I'm more than willing to be aware of what the market wants, I'm not really willing to change my writing to get there, which may doom me as far as the mass market is concerned.

It isn't that I'm too proud. I just can't seem to write anything but what I write and if I did, it would almost certainly suck.

Starting my thriller today. I've line up the next 17 days to do nothing but write.

After going back and forth several times, I've decided to do my "lost box" story, with the outdoor guide/ journalist as the protagonist. As much as I'm leery of writing a Rambo/McGyver story, I think it would be cool to have some of that.

Outdoor guy against city-slickers.

The "Takeover" book was just too fraught with politics, I decided. And everyone I talked to liked the first idea better.



Linda and I spent 3 days looking at houses. There is nothing in our price range in Bend that isn't crappy, so we are looking at Redmond. Linda is going on with Anita, our realtor friend. Linda will have the ultimate say. They know what I like.

I walked into 3 different houses and said, "I'd buy this." So I'm not someone to trust with the buying trigger. I make very quick decisions when shopping.



The Bookmark has been extinguished, sigh.  They took down the signs and painted the exterior dark grey and have been working on the inside for a month. I'm betting the new bookstore, "Big Story," is going to be spectacular.



Got my Sunday New York Times and it was refreshing to read long-form journalism.



Working Pegasus for 3.5 days was educational. Most of all, I get the sense the store is functioning very well. How nice, after so many years. Part of it is Bend is going through one of it's periodic expansions, but I think it also helps to have some young guys running the stores. The customer base is trending younger, which is good.



I haven't heard from any of my publishers in a long time, so I sent out a couple of reminders this morning. I sent a novella to Kindle Singles 14 weeks ago, which is way way too long not to hear back. So I figure it got lost or I missed the rejection. (Current Kindle Singles authors are: J.K. Rowling, John Grisham, Lee Child, Diana Gabaldon, you know, losers like that....)


Well, diving deep this time. No distractions. Just the world of my thriller.

Working 5 days in a row, which I haven't done in several years. Put away comics yesterday, which I also haven't done.

It's good for me. I discovered, for instance, that Cameron's orders were spot on--maybe a little better than I used to do. I found 4 overages and shortages from our wholesalers, which seems to be common these days when it used to be rare.

A large quantity of graphic novels came in, and they were a broad mix, so that was nice to see.

I met a bunch of shelf subscribers who I didn't really know. Which is a strange feeling, because I used to know all my subscribers by name and number, what they collected, and how often they came in.

I got a sense of which parts of the stores were being looked at, or were active. I've got the raw numbers, of course, but that doesn't always tell the story. There can be strong interest just below the trigger point, and trigger points that are starting to fail.

The age and sex mix is more apparent when I'm working full time. It's pretty much 50/50, at least those that come in the door if not those who actually buy, which is still weighted toward the male, but not as much as it used to be.

I never thought I'd see the day. The store seems to be accepted as normal by everyone, which again wasn't true for the first half of my career. (I have an image of a customer realizing he/she is in...gasp...a comic store! and backing away slowly so as not to alarm the nerds.)

I was very tired by the end of the day, but I think the customer count is higher than it used to be too.

The experience has reinforced my goal to expand the books and game sections, which I think still have room for growth. Since the store is running smoothly, I think I can take a chance of ordering aggressively.  Books especially, since I know books pretty well and can see many areas of improvement.

This working for 5 days is good for me, even though it takes me away from writing. I'm reassured by the direction the store is going, so I'm very much looking forward to getting back to writing.

Read chapters 4-6 of The Toad King to writer's group last night. Among the usual grammatical corrections, Gary let slip, "Sometimes, it's almost poetic."

"What's that?"

"Sometimes it's almost poetic..."

"Yes! Thank you!"

It's amazing how even a qualified praise can have a big impact. I mean, first of all, it was from Gary who isn't prone to lavish praise. Way back when I was writing "Led to the Slaughter" Gary said, "...this almost has some real depth."

Again, qualified praise I took to heart, because he was commenting on a passage of the book where I felt I had broken through to some real meaning.

Meanwhile, one of the things I'm noticing about my writing is that the more I do, the less attention I'm paying to the outside world. I don't really want to know if others have done what I've done, or how they did it, or take advice on what and when I should write.

Part of this is my age. I've spent 35 years between writing stints and I had a lot of time to think about it, to read umpteen books, to read advice about writing. Combined with my original research of reading every book about writing I could get my hands on, and taking classes and joining groups.

 I'm sort of backing away from all that. I'm trusting my own instincts now. 

I'm retreating into my own little bubble, exploring my own psyche, writing what comes to me without regard to anything else. Trying not to second-guess myself too much. Just letting my own ideas come out and hoping they are original and fresh enough to interest people.

Fortunately, my imagination coincides more often than not with what others might want. For instance, it isn't a stretch to write a "thriller." So I'm not just writing one only because I have a receptive editor, but because it's the type of thing I was getting ready to write anyway. (In fact, two of my most recent books were thrillers.)

I retreat further and further into my writing bubble. The real challenge to me is to unlock what I think is already there in my head. The only thing standing between me and a really good book is myself, my own hangups, my own getting in the way of my imagination. It's all there if I can access it, which means being free, being focused on my own dreams, not letting any critical elements stop me.

Which isn't what I expected.

The Toad King, Chapter 17. The final chapter. Meanwhile, I've written the first two chapters of "Mother Sali," the third of my Tales of the Thirteen Principalities. I like this world.

17.) The Mirror God Cometh.

The Yellow Prince is gone. Not a shred of him exists, torn into such tiny pieces there is nothing left that is recognizable. Unless he somehow escaped, which seems impossible. If he did escape, there is nowhere for him to go.

Out of the crowd steps Marna, and I realize that the gathering wasn’t completely spontaneous. She is still limping, but appears otherwise well.

“It seems the people have chosen their new Prince,” she says, as she joins me.

“Long ago, that’s how it was done,” I say.

She laughs. “I suppose you were there.”

I don’t answer, instead watch as the people once again lift Quarry and carry him to the Casperi Castle. We follow more slowly, at Marna’s limping pace.

“What will the great Princes of the other principalities say?” she wonders aloud.

“They’ll be delighted, I suspect. Having the Eighth Principality back to trade with will make up for having Quarry as one of them. Along with the wilderness, this realm always had more natural resources than any of the others.”

“They’ll think he’s a barbarian,” she muses.

It’s my turn to laugh, “You haven’t met many Princes! No…I suspect they’ll be more alarmed by his piety than by his earthiness.”

Around us, the soldiers of the Yellow Prince are fleeing. Some are shedding their weapons and uniforms as they run. Others are caught, and I see them buried beneath flailing fists and feet. After depositing Quarry at the entrance of the castle, a part of the unruly crowd follows him inside. Soon, they reappear, carrying loot. I hurry the pace, suddenly remembering the Mirror God mobile standing unprotected in the entrance hallway. I doubt anyone will want it, but they might destroy it out of spite.

As we near the castle, Quarry appears on the balcony above. He has cleaned his face and combed his beard and he looks regal despite merely wearing a plain grey robe. He hold out his hands and the crowd grows silent.

“I ask the soldiers of this principality to accept my ascension. If they do so, they shall be pardoned. They are not to be harmed.”

“Throw them in the cages!” someone shouts.

“The Casperi Cages will be cast down!” Quarry roars, and again the crowd becomes completely still and quiet. “The chains will be broken, the bars melted down. Never again will anyone be incarcerated in such a inhuman place.”

Quarry lets that sink in for a few moments, then, “Go home, my people. Tomorrow we will begin the task of making this place a home where people can live without fear, where what they work for they keep, where no one is punished without cause. We shall live by the Mirror God’s Covenant, each and every day.

“Go home!” he shouts, and his deep voice is joyous. “Tomorrow we join the rest of the Thirteen Principalities and the Mirror God’s blessings!”

***

“It’s time you show me this statue you’ve come so far to steal,” Prince Quarry says to me after a few days.

“Not to steal, but to reclaim.”

He gives me a curious look. “You have always been an honest thief, Toad King. It is what I like about you.”

“Nevertheless, Your Highness, this time I was the victim, not the thief.” It is the way I feel. I truly feel the victim, for I was young and naïve when the blue pilgrim took advantage of me. The knowledge that I stole the statue from Thirteenth Principality in the first place is conveniently buried.  

I can tell the Prince somehow senses there is more to the story, but he doesn’t pursue it.

The castle has been cleaned up, appearing almost bare. The Prince has been busy giving away its riches. He has taken a small room on the ground floor and has invited others to live and work in the castle. I say nothing, knowing it can’t last. A Prince must rule, and to rule he must have a castle.

I lead the way. The Prince has gained a retinue; the most shameless of the nobility is already fawning over him. Quarry ignores them. Jarmel and a few others of his original band protectively surround him, but there is little other outward sign that he is anyone but a common citizen, albeit a very large and regal citizen.

Between the looting and Quarry’s beneficence, the hallway near the entrance is stripped clean, all but one object, too humble for anyone to want. A mobile statue made of twirling mirrors.

Quarry grunts when he sees the statue. I blink my eyes, for it is as if the Prince has disappeared, he has become so still. I can see that it puzzles the nobles, who have never seen this side of their Prince.

My eyes, too, are drawn to the mirrors. The jumbled Oaths rattle through my head, as disjointed and disconcerting as ever. Once again, I am filled with a sense that I don’t understand what the object is trying to tell me, that I should be doing something.

But this time, that sense disappears. I am filled with a feeling of completeness, as if a task long delayed has finally been completed. As I watch the flashing mirrors, they seem to become one large mirror, filling the wall, the castle, the principality, the world.

All that exists is the mirror, and I see that it is the Mirror God and it is reflecting back the true nature of those who stand before it.

One by one, the Oaths flash before me, and I see a toad, a creature out of place, who has struggled to fit in. Then I see a man whose features are so ugly it is almost pleasing. I see a failure and a thief, but someone who has become more human than monster. I see someone who has failed each of the Oaths in his time, and fulfilled them too. I see a flawed man, who has forgotten the Mirror God’s Covenant more often than he has remembered it.

But the Mirror God isn’t reflecting me, except at the verges.

Standing beside me, Quarry is reflected in all his power at the center of the mirror. He has kept to the Covenant, and one by one, the Thirteen Oaths are administered to him, and he passes them all.

They who are last, shall also be first,

They who are stern, shall also be kind,

They who are cursed, shall also be blessed,

They who are mistrusted, shall also be believed,

They who are foolish, shall also be wise,

They who are innocent, shall also see the truth,

They who are weak, shall also be strong,

They who are low, shall also be high,

They who are scorned, shall also be honored,

They who hate, shall also love,

They who are far, shall also be near,

They who forget, shall also remember

They who are first, shall also be last.

A sense of dizziness overcomes me and it is as if I’m falling into the mirror, which I see is the Abyss.

And then, I’m standing in a bare hallway again, a statue made of cheap material before me. The twirling mirrors are dull, having lost most of their reflective surface. I no longer hear the Covenant in my mind.

I look about me at those surrounding the Prince, and it is clear they are puzzled, that they saw none of what I saw.

This is how others have always seen the mobile, I realize, except those few who somehow understood its significance.

“What happened?” I say aloud.

Prince Quarry appears unmoved. “The Mirror God cometh,” he says.

“What?”

“The Mirror God has been summoned. We must prepare ourselves for his arrival.” With that, Prince Quarry turns and starts back to the throne room.

I’m left alone with the statue. It no longer has the slightest appeal to me. In fact, it’s kind of ugly.

Like me, I suppose. We’ve both done the job we were sent here to do, apparently.

A sense of peace overcomes over me. I no longer have the nagging feeling of something left undone. I am free to be who I want to be—a humble thief, who takes from those who are too rich for their own well-being and gives it to those who can appreciate it.

A worthy occupation, in my estimation.

I lift the statue and carry it to my room, where I carefully take it apart. It may be a humble work of art, but it once had great meaning and I will treat it with respect.

I will take it to Prince Mordrial and collect my reward and not look back, however, for the statue is nothing more than a statue.

After that, I will do as I please…

…until the Mirror God comes.

I feel a stab of fear, for I know I am unready for His arrival. I saw myself in His Mirror, I saw how far I have strayed from the Covenant.

What’s more, I have traveled all the Thirteen Principalities and know that most of them are equally unprepared to be judged.

Gods and monsters, there’s nothing to be done. 

That day will come, but until then…there are riches to be taken.

I reread "Said the Joker, To the Thief" and I'm amazed by how intricate it is. It is by far my most sophisticated work, the melding of character and plot and theme. Came out of nowhere. If I could write like this every time, I'd be pretty impressed with myself.

Coming up on 13 weeks since I sent "Said the Joker, To the Thief" to Kindle Singles. The more time goes on, the more I think it was just a foul-up of some kind. I think if it was an acceptance, I would have heard by now. Up to about 12 weeks I could harbor the illusion. Oh, well. I always knew it was an extreme long shot.

Meanwhile, I have four free days, interrupted by 3 works days, and I want to really concentrate on "Takeover" once I start, so I've decided to start another novella, this one starring Mother Sali. Won't feel bad about interrupting it. Just have fun. A throwaway, either it works or it doesn't. Hell, maybe I'll even try to finish it.

This was just way too much time without writing. It feels off. I need to use my creative muscles on something.

So just do my fantasy thing, let my subconscious go to work, have some fun with it.

Writing novellas has been a valuable experience. Basically, novellas are plots distilled to the essence. No time for chapters that are inserted just for action. The action has to be in the forward progressing chapters. So if I could manage to do the same for a book two or three times as long, I'd really have something.

In "Said the Joker, To the Thief," Callipe's journey could have taken up at least half the book. Instead, I just cut all the adventures in-between and had her just show up for the ending. It worked as a novella, but if I had included those adventures, it probably would have worked as a book too. (If I ever have a call to extend it, that's what I'd do.)

It's my intention to have all of Callipe's in-between adventures as another novella. So I'm looking at a minimum of four different novellas, and I'm thinking I'll probably do a Lady Lysandra novella as well.

No real endpoint, really. Just any time I want to dive into that world. 

Finished "The Toad King" and I like it.

29363 words, versus 29298 words for "Said the Joker, To the Thief." Just under the wire. I doubt I'll submit it to Kindle Singles, though why not? Maybe I will. Once I've heard back on the first submission. It is a little odd that I haven't heard back. Mostly likely, it is lost in the system. I still think the odds are astronomical of it being taken on.

I'd hoped to start writing "Takeover" on the 1st, but Cameron is going to a comic con in Seattle for five days, so that means I have to wait until the 6th, and/or get started earlier. Dylan is too new to throw into the maw yet. I may see how he does on Saturday, since that is a day I'd rather avoid.

I'll see if I'm inspired over the next few days, stare at the screen and see if anything comes to me.

Was able to do my usual 4 mile walk yesterday for the first time in 2 1/2 months. Last winter I was waylaid only a couple of days, same with the year before.

It felt good, was more tired than usual, which makes sense. Heartrate got up to 120, when it usually peaks at 100. I'll have to see how long it takes to go back to normal.

But the great thing was, the ideas for the final chapter of "The Toad King" just started flowing. I sat down on one of the writing stumps and wrote some,  but it felt really clunky. Stopped writing and just gathered glimmers, went home and threw out what I'd written and started over.

Came spilling out and it was a satisfying climax.  Heh.

I like this world and the characters. I'm planning to write more of these novellas. Next up, I think, is the character of "Mother Sali" who is another favorite character.

But first up, the THRILLER.

No word from my editor on which thriller plot he might like.

No big surprise, there. Our last interaction started off the same way. Apparent interest, then complete ignoring, then me delivering a finished book and him liking it. Took over a year.  I'm hoping the same thing will happen again.  The bigger publishers just operate on a different timeframe.

Meanwhile, it has now been more than 12 weeks since I sent "Said the Joker, To the Thief" to Kindle Singles. I'd love to believe it means something, but it probably doesn't mean anything.

Cohesion Press, the publisher of "Snaked," seems to be making huge strides in the publishing world, with some incipient bestsellers under his belt, so I figure that's all good. Hopefully, by the time "Snaked" comes out (scheduled for October) he'll will have all the publishing kinks with IPG sorted out.

I'm going to be excited to write "Takeover." It has the potential to be a good book. But I'm trying not to put too high expectations on myself, for fear of blocking myself.

I'm just going to write the book.

I wouldn't hurt to put some thought into it first, though. I've learned that. How many characters, what format, the theme, the overall arch of the story and so on. I've been filling that in a little just by osmosis.

I'm really hoping I can start going on long walks again around the same time. I think that would be really helpful to the creative process.

One last chapter to "The Toad King" is going to be written today. I've just been sitting down and writing these last few chapters without further ado. I know what I want from them so I'm going straight there. Probably end up with 1000 to 1500 words to spare, so I have a little wiggle room in the rewrite, which this will need.

Still, having two "Tales of the Thirteen Principalities" under my belt makes that world feel real to me.  I'd eventually like to write a couple more, but first I need to write "Takeover."

I need to channel my inner Stephen Hunter, Lee Child, John Sandford, and John Connelly. Heh.

Final Answer.

I'm going to do the book about the takeover at the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument.

In fact, the title will be "Takeover."

I think I've figured out a way to neutralize the political part, in fact use it to my benefit.

First thing I need to do is have alternate chapters between occupiers and occupied, so that both views are presented. (The views of the characters, not pushed, but explaining motivations.)

Then, a major plot development -- much more radical, violent extremists come in and takeover, and now the original guys have to band together with the hostages to save the situation. I figure no one is going to be on the side of murderous radicals, no matter what side.

It may be a mistake, but ultimately, this is the story that interests me the most, that is the most unique, and which has plenty of ideas to play with.

A guest post, from Shawn Hoge Remfrey.

Gratifying to know I'm infesting my friend's minds.

The Toad King is Stalking Me.

“Mom!  There’s a frog in the pool!”

It all started off so innocently.  The ice over the pool had melted, but the odds of it being an actual frog instead of a leaf or something else innocuous were pretty good.  I trudged outside and looked all over.  No frog.  I was in the clear.

Then the pointing began.  Then I SAW it!  It wasn’t just a frog.  This thing was massive!  It was easily the size of both of my chubby toddler hands!  And it was dead! D.E.A.D.  How did I know?  I looked at it.  It was an odd grey and slimy and looked like it was one of those foam grow animals that you plunge into water.  Oh the horror!

Of course, I pretended I still couldn’t see it.  Admitting I saw it meant that I’d have to do something about it.  Nope.

An hour later, I went back out to look at it.  Just to see if it would still stare at me with it’s cold, beady little eyes.  It was gone!!  

At that moment, I realized The Toad King was out to get me.  I blame McGeary for this.  I’ve been following his progress on The  Toad King so it was already in the back of my mind.

Everywhere I’ve gone, all day, at the slightest hint of movement, I’ve jumped back, sure that he was about to strike.  Air current in the curtains?  It’s The Toad King!  A  fluttering piece of paper?  It’s The Toad King!  I’m even scared of my own feet at the moment!  They’re under the desk and every time I feel a tickle, I’m sure it’s The Toad King, coming to suck my soul!!!

I have the opportunity I wanted, now it's up to me to write a good book.

Not just a book good enough to win over a publisher, but one which will have a broad appeal to readers. I do believe that my writing is somehow attractive to editors, though I'm not sure it always  works the same with agents or readers who apparently have different requirements.

Why the difference?

I think that the agent's main focus is looking for a "money-maker" while the publishers' main focus is looking for a good book.

They aren't necessarily the same thing. Of course, there is a lot of grey between those two goals, and of course there are agents who support authors who they think are good writers regardless of saleability and there are publishers who pass on authors they think are good because of the lack of commercial possibilities.

But I think it holds up as a general observation.

The readers want yet other things. Either a rip-roaring fun read or a thought-provoking read or one that takes them someplace they've never been. Again, most books are a blend of those things.

The question of quality is an interesting one. I believe every writer is trying his best, however there are choices about how much revision a writer is willing to do, how much time they spend.

Mostly it comes down to intent. Do I want a quick book or a more thought out book?

Even that isn't always true though. A more drawn out process doesn't necessarily result in a better book. I personally believe that there is a qualitative "zone" that a writer inhabits, where most of their books will reside, though I also believe it is possible to occasionally break out of that zone through a fortuitous string of circumstances--or fall well below.

At this point in my career, I don't have as much doubt in the competence of my writing as I do in what to write.

In the end, I'll write the book I want to write, regardless. But a little rumination isn't a bad thing, though it probably seems pretty wish-washy to everyone else (especially the editor to whom I keep throwing half-baked ideas.)

A big discovery has been that the writing isn't what people notice--it's the underlying premise. That seems to be the most important thing. Of course, as a writer, I can't take that too seriously because I believe the quality of the writing sells the premise or doesn't. But it's interesting to me that the criticism is more about the content than about the way the content is presented.

I'm going to start my thriller on March 1. But I'm still undecided about which idea to pursue. I was leaning toward my "takeover" book, but now I'm leaning toward my "outdoor journalist on the run from city slickers" idea.

I'm thinking it might be wise to avoid the politics on my first book because it is an unnecessary complication. So the straight-ahead chase book is both easier and less problematic. It also has plenty of reader-pleasing possibilities, which is what I'm after the most.

Like I said, making the choice is the hard part. The actual writing will be a relief.

Out of the blue I started writing a story about a fictional takeover of a wildlife refuge. Before I knew it, I'd written 2500 words, and they were good.

What the Hell? Where did that come from? I still have to finish "The Toad King." I have a thriller to write!

Wrestled with the concept last night, and realized that this could be the thriller I was looking for. Just change it slightly--make it about the John Day Fossil Beds National Monument, which I've been to and can visit again.

Add a murder or two, and I've got myself a thriller.

It's a political mindfield, but I figure I can have both viewpoints, (which will probably offend everyone.)

I think a really pleasing plot turn would be to have both the occupiers and the occupied banning together to fight an outside threat. Maybe some foreign terrorists who tries to take advantage of the situation. Something like that.

Or simply, like I said, some murders. (Or maybe both scenarios, if it isn't too much.)

Lots of possibilities, but I like the premise.

Not sure how I'm going to make my outdoor journalist character the main protagonist, but he can be part of the mix. (I want to build a series around a single hero.)

I still like the other ideas I had for a thriller, but those ideas are still out there.

My subconscious obviously wants to work on this first.

Linda says, "Enough with the foreign terrorists already."

I agree. Maybe a more extreme faction takes over, starts threatening to kill the rangers, who have stayed behind to protect the place. 

I have a working title, because I know the editor will probably have his own title, or something better may occur to me. But rather than call it the WIP, I came up with "Lava Lake."

I finally went for a walk yesterday. My favorite path is still pretty bad, but a mile of another path is clear, so I might just walk that route 4 times. Didn't really get many ideas, unfortunately. I'm still trying to figure out who the protagonist is, and who his friends are, and so on.

I think rather than get in trouble pretending to be an expert, I should have him be a wilderness journalist, not a guide. I don't want him to be either McGyver or Rambo, but a smidgen of both.

I thought of having him be a traditionalist. A single shot hunting rifle kind of guy, doesn't even own a pistol or shotgun, prefers catch-and-release fishing to killing things. Wouldn't be an expert on ordinance. Just an ordinary outdoorsman, like I was raised to be. Prefers to be outdoors, on hikes or camping trips.

I fished and hunted throughout Central Oregon in my youth, but I would never claim to be an expert. So I'll have him have friends who are experts. I'm thinking of a real back-to-nature guy who lives in the woods as his silent but deadly friend.

(Linda says, then HE becomes the hero. Nah, I'll kill him off...or some other reason he doesn't step to the fore; helps out but doesn't take over the story.)

I figure a wilderness journalist gives just enough expertise to be credible. Also allows for future stories.  As far as him getting out of trouble, I'd like that to be something that a guy like me would come up with a solution, rather than research about wilderness tricks and traps and ambushes or such. (Well, maybe a little.)

If I'm going to write a thriller, I'd rather not get bogged down by research, so I need to design the premise as something I can easily do. Besides, having a Rambo or McGyver has been done by everyone. (Super cops, detectives, spies...)I'd rather have a "everyman" hero, even if that isn't the preferred mode of protagonist.

I want to design this whole thing as something that works and is something I want to do.  This is for the long haul, a kind of different level of doing things. I may not get there, but I have to try. I usually come up with a premise for a book that I think is strong enough and just start writing.

I'm putting more pre-thought into this than normal, to hopefully save me future problems. Giving myself a couple of weeks to just think of ideas.

I proposed a Western to my new publisher, thinking that's what he wanted.

He wrote back to say: "I'll tell you, Dunc--the last thing I need are westerns! What I need are thrillers. Come up with a slam-bang idea and shit, I'll publish it... How's that?"

Well...that seems like an engraved invitation. You know...all I have to do is write a "slam-bang" book and all.

But kidding aside, I do feel like I have an "in" with this publisher if I can produce something decent. Having a receptive audience is half the battle, maybe more.

So it's got my head churning. Trying to figure out what I can do. I'm going to try to run some ideas past him, get some kind of approval for the premise at least in advance.

My favorite reads these days are Lee Child, John Sandford, Micheal Connelly, that kind of thing. But I've stayed away from trying to write them because of the technical demands of the story. Knowing about police procedures or weapons or martial arts or military--all these books have that in common.

I could maybe do them if I researched enough. But...frankly, that just seems both difficult and boring to me. Lots of places I can go wrong. "Hey, a Glock has no safety, nimrod!"

There is one book I really liked--A Simple Plan--which had normal people in it a dangerous situation. It was a simple premise and simply explicated in a realistic way. I've always thought that was the kind of book I'd like to try.

I have a little bit of an idea, but I don't know if it's slam-bang.

Writing what you know? Well, I know running a comic book store, so there's that. But really, is that the world I want to write about? It might be fun, but others have done it, and I just don't seem to have a knack for it.

But I would be inclined to write about Bend and Central Oregon if possible. There are some great locations around here.

Thing is...a single thriller, written to specifications, wouldn't do much. I'd really like to write something I can continue, a character who is impressive enough to carry a series, that I know something about, that I can be proud of.

So I need a slam-bang idea for a single book, but with a character who could continue in a series.

So...that's where my head is going to be for awhile.



Later: I made a quick sketchy proposal, with the thought that now is the time to strike. I like the idea, though it would require a whole lot of research, and even more vetting to get the facts correct. I think I have people who have the expertise to vet the story, if they are willing. I suppose since I'm being paid, I'd be willing to pay them, so that might help.

I'm pretty sure I'll have to do this on spec. In fact, I think I'd prefer to write it on spec.

Also, much more thought needs to go into this before I start. Not an outline, per se, but a lot of ideas assembled in advance.

There is a window of opportunity here, so I want to get it right.