My Friend, My Love, My Creation

Most times, new characters are born rather beautifully. They come with rich back-stories and have a deep family history. They speak to me for hours about who they are, where they live, what they do for a living, etc. Other times, they burst forth kicking and screaming.

They’re wearing straight-jackets and slamming themselves madly against my psyche. They’re roughly cut from raw emotion, they know very little about who they are, where they came from, or who their families are. The only thing they know is their desire to have the same chance at life as the aforementioned.

While I do so enjoy the company of my more ‘fleshed’ out characters, mainly because they are familiar to me, like family or good friends, I find myself oddly drawn to these new beings. They want the same things that we all have, that which has come so easily to their cousins; a life of their own.  They are like children, in a way.  They don’t know what’s behind them, nor do they have a clue what’s ahead of them.  They must learn, through my guidance, of course, what they like or do not like.

Sometimes I can control the process. Sometimes, I can even help form them into something appropriate enough to tell a story about. This isn’t always the case, however, and any writer can tell you that it isn’t always going to be a good thing.

You’re not always going to have a ‘good’ character.  Every so often, as I am helping this character come to life, we discover that he or she isn’t so savory a person.  Maybe said character is a villain?  Or maybe, something much, much, worse. I don’t always like telling the story of these characters, but again, as a writer I don’t always have a choice.  They desire a chance at life.  They demand that their story be heard.  And as a storyteller, I am compelled to share.

Perhaps what awaits in the end is poetic?  Or, perhaps not.  It isn’t for me to decide. You see, much like the character types I have described, so too do the stories exist as well. Some lay in wait, ready to pounce my thoughts without a moment’s notice.  Other times, they are a rough gem that needs worked into something you may or may not appreciate.

Just as is the case of the character, some stories may be beautiful designs that inspire you to continue turning the page.  Others might be an atrocious train-wreck that forces you to turn the pages until you reach the end. This isn’t to say that they aren’t very good.

It’s a tricky subject; horror.

What one person may consider good, might be another’s kryptonite.  I may have written the most descriptive decapitation in such a way that you have never seen before, but what may make one jump out of his/her seat in excitement, might have another turning their head in disgust.

Such is life.

By now, I hope that my readers have come to expect a certain style to my writing.  You’ve survived the first two tales of John Rizzerio and are eagerly waiting the finale, or you have been keeping up with my webseries and are looking for the next post to appear.  You know that I don’t always pull the punches.

Some of my characters may seem like somebody you could run into on the street. Others, a friendly neighbor or work acquaintance.  Then there are those, like the protagonists of ‘She Has A Pretty Face Though’, and ‘The Box’, who each have their own issues to resolve. In the end, was their story worth it?  Was it poetic, or did you enjoy following their journey?

Of course, you’ll have your own opinions that I would LOVE to hear!  But, in the end, I will still continue to tell the stories as they demand to be told, in their own entireties.  While I depend upon you, my faithful readers, to help guide me down the path of your interests, I hope that you continue to stick with me as I share with you my creations.  They are a labor of love, a part of myself in much the same way that my children are, and it gives me great pleasure to be able to introduce you to them.

They are family, after all.


National Novel Writing Month, for those of you who are wondering.  This isn’t just a witty acronym, it’s a world-wide phenomenon!  Every November, hundreds upon thousands of writers gather together under one unified cause; to write a novel in the span of but one month’s time.

Last year, about this time, I began to hear about this ‘NaNoWriMo’ for the first time.  I was deeply entrenched in writing ‘The Hunter Reborn’, as well as with promoting The Rise and Fall of John Rizzerio on my social media.  I wanted nothing more than to take place in this event, but between finishing my current book and having to deal with full-time hours at what was supposed to be a part-time job, I didn’t have the energy to keep up that kind of commitment.

This year, however, I’m pondering.  “Can I find it in myself to write the approximate length of a novel?”  “Better yet, can I do it in a month’s time?”

I now have a set schedule, which gives me eight more hours a week to work with this year, but it isn’t my job that would stand in the way this time.  Having a set schedule is wonderful, but it was set in such a way that would now allow me to attend family functions, holidays, parties, etc.  Not that I’m complaining, mind you!  I’m thrilled beyond words that I’ll be able to spend more time with my family!  It’s just that this event couldn’t have picked a worse month!

Can I write the approximate length of a novel in one month?  Yeees…  (Please note, that should sound hesitant.)  I wrote TRaFoJR in less than three months, but that book was only a novella.  It’s sequel took around eight months, five if you subtract the HUGE rewrite I had to make due to a computer crash, and was only 28k words longer.

My plans for this book are much more grand than those of the previous books.  I’m not only tying up several loose ends, but I’m introducing two huge characters, one whom has been built up from the very beginning! The story has grown, along with characters, and I’m anticipating the word count to be a bit more than the first two books put together!

Currently, my work on J.R. Van Helsing, the third and final installment of the ‘Ballad of John Rizzerio’, has been tentative at best.  I find myself working on promotions more often, as well as trying to strengthen connections I have made in social media.  Last week, as my most loyal readers know, I put on a very eventful book signing.  I sold a half a dozen books, but spoke with twice that number of interested, and interesting, folks.  As a result of this night, I also made a couple of great connections, one, the result of which is me appearing on television for an interview about my work!

And yet, the question still haunts me.  Even on this day, during which the dead will walk and we must wear our masks in order to remain hidden, I wonder if I can do it? Knowing that I will be giving up my days to attend family functions, only to lose sleep in the evenings, leaving me to work while locked in an epic battle with the Sandman.

Can I do it?

I don’t so much as intend to join the group as I want to at least accomplish the purpose of the event.  I’m sure I would have a great community standing beside and behind me, valuable tools at my disposal and various other benefits from doing so, but I know that it will stretch me out a little too thin.  At least, this year it will. Hopefully, by this time next year, I won’t have to work at my part-time job and will be in a position where I will have more time to focus on something new.

I can only hope.

For now; I know that regardless of what I decide, before this day is over, I will continue to do the one thing I most enjoy.  I will remain focused on my passion for spinning a good yarn.  I’m currently wrapping up the final touches to my upcoming short story, Trespasser, and I have mapped out the last posts of each of my webseries.  When I’m not working on my website stories, I’m continuing to add to my current book, as well as to the book following shortly behind it..

In the very least, I will still be meeting my current goals, and that’s all that I can hope for.

50k words in one month?

Let me think on it for a bit longer.  As for tonight?  Tonight I must don my own mask and celebrate the festivities of Samhain, and I pray…I pray that the dead do not take notice.