Where is this all going? – Redefining success

I’m redefining my own success, I’ve always been happy to just write – regardless whether I share it with the world, (or perhaps because I didn’t share), however I do want more, and I think I can do more.

I alluded in my last post what being a writer to me is.

“[…] Writers write. Being published, even read, that’s irrelevant. Writers write. That’s the only thing that defines a writer.”

In that sense I’m quite successful, I can and do write. That’s more of an epiphany than you might think, I called my blog Aspiring because I thought I was an aspiring writer, a nascent storyteller, yet still not on the mark, however that’s not the truth. I might be trying to learn to be better at writing, but that’s irrelevant. I write, therefore I’m a writer.

What I really am is an aspiring author. I’m trying to hone my craft to the level I feel comfortable sharing my works, with little or no qualification. That’s not as easy as it sounds, I’m highly self critical. To accept something I’ve written to be good enough to publish to the world, (whether that’s through this blog, through self publishing ebooks, or through submitting to publishers), is no small feat. I have done it, like with the sci fi serial I posted for a while, (and since taken down because I wasn’t happy with it), and the daily flash fiction challenge I did, (albeit with lots of qualifiers about quality and haste, all 140+ short stories are still there – so that’s something, right?).

I’ve decided I want to take this seriously though. I want to leave my mark in one fashion or another, and there’s one thing that I’m good enough that has the chance of being indelible, and that’s writing. What I do at work is transient, it’s replaced by the next big thing pretty much monthly, I don’t have any particular insights into my job that would like to a new methodology being named for me. It’s not modesty, because I do some amazing stuff. Now writing, I don’t know if I’d ever be good enough to be remembered beyond myself, but there’s a greater chance of it.

Millions of stories, books, every year get forgotten about. It’s actually kind of sad when you think about it. However thousands will be remembered by people, thousands will affect lives, and some of those will go on and be read and remembered by future generations.

When you read Jane Austen, HG Wells, Frank Herbery, Tolkien, DH Lawrence, even things like Beowulf, you’re contributing to the immortality of not just the characters, but the writers. And I find that tremendously exciting, to be connected with these fantastic talents across the bridge of years. So of course, I’d like to try my hand at that – not that I’m saying I can, but I am saying I can try. It requires refocusing myself, and really aspiring. All I’m saying is it’s possible, it’s exciting, and it’s worthwhile.

Even if I somehow miss, (and I won’t know that until the day I give up writing stories), I’ll still have all the fun of crafting my stories into words.

So there’s a few milestones I need to get past on the way, which I’m going to explore over several posts. Here’s a few key ones that I need to do for this year’s NaNoWriMo:

  • A good story idea (and all the elements that implies like interesting characters, a compelling arc, fascinating sub-plots, etc)
  • Clear writing, (no needlessly using overcomplicated or antiquated words – I’m not trying to win over critics, I’m trying to win over as many readers as I am capable of)
  • Focusing as much time, (or indeed more), on my second draft as the first draft
  • Pure dedication to the art of editing, and re-editing, (ad inifinitum), until the story is finely honed. Then I’ll consider having a third party take it further.
  • Promotion of my self and my novel, which is a bit of a tough one because I’ve no idea where to start, but I’ll cross that bridge once I know I’ve got a story I want to push that far.
  • The right vehicle from myself to my readers, (whether it’s publishing to my blog, to ebook stores, or whatever – whichever is right for the novel)

So if that’s my challenge, when am I going to do it? When else? NaNoWriMo. My goal of this NaNoWriMo is a complete first draft of a novel. I think I’ll aim for the 200k mark, assuming I’ll lose half in editing and re-editing, that should leave me with a reasonable sized novel.

To do that I’m going to have to be prepared, so this will be another planning year. That gives me 66 days to get ready. This week I’ll filter my ideas down to just a couple and then make my final decision, and dedicate myself to two months of detailed plans. Characters, scenes, plots all detailed ready to be pulled together into a story.

This year, (well next by time I’ve finished finishing) editing and such), will be the year I finally make an attempt at doing something with my writing, if I’ve got something that warrants it, that is, if not I’ll immediately start a new project. The first draft and first round of editing will be completed before moving onto another project – because anything less would be defeatist, than realistically evaluating what I’ve written.

It doesn’t do to preface a challenge with failure, but what’s the worst that can happen? If I don’t succeed, if I don’t have millions of people feverishly pouring over my words, I’ll still be a writer, and I’ll still be enjoying writing. This is merely another level hopefully.

Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 56: Imperial Spirit

This is the 56th a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

Imperial Spirit, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 26th January 2012

Word count: 856

Theme: race, motor racing, sport, underdog, down to the wire, photo finish, drama

The story:

“You’ll have to manage with fourth,” Rossi said over the radio into Julian’s helmet.

“Easy for you to say,” Julian retorted as he cambered left for the sweeping corner.

“You’re twenty seven seconds up on Garner, just keep it clean and bring the car home,” Rossi instructed.

Julian didn’t reply, he settled into the fight off the championship, this race wouldn’t decide who got the trophy, but it could easily decide who didn’t.

The damaged Mercedes thundered down the straight coming out of the corner, but quickly became the sound of a dying gear box as it tried to find fifth.

Through the next corner Julian barely braked, he wasn’t carrying enough speed to afford the luxury. He sped over the home straight towards the start-finish line and started his final lap.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 55: A Rose Between Two Thorns

This is the 55th a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

A Rose Between Two Thorns, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 25th January 2012

Word count: 724

Theme: science, experiment, patience, right way, slow way, pioneer

The story:

“You need to go faster Paul, a lot faster,” a tinny voice said over the sub space comm output.

“I can’t,” Paul the pilot started to say while struggling to hold the ship on course against all the laws of physics it seems.

“Invert the port side thrusters, they’ll give you a bit more,” the tinny voice instructed.

“If I do that, forty percent of my active control will go,” Paul shouted back, barely holding the ship on the right course.

“Trust me, invert now, it’ll work out,” the tinny voice said.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 54: The Killing Ghosts

This is the 54th a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

The Killing Ghosts, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 24th January 2012

Word count: 697

Theme: alien invasion, resistance, war, survival, humanity, myth, legend

The story:

I got so scared, I felt I was alone facing things that shouldn’t even exist, never mind being in a relatively unimportant city in England. Whether they should be there or not, it was irrelevant.

The day had been going so well, I had a date that night, my job was going well, everything in life was grand. A few months earlier I’d Peru much had nothing to lose, but the day they came, I lost everything important, except my life.

It was mid-September when astronomers first saw the objects in the night sky, they were a wonder, unexplainable, mysterious globes of compressed liquid. Of course we didn’t just assume they were peaceful – though we didn’t even know about brains then. When it was obvious that they were on a collision course with the Blue Planet the US military took control of all efforts in regard. to the strange phenomena. They’re best efforts didn’t even cause the globes of liquid to waver, they kept coming.

Still life went on, the world split into three types of people. First off the were your traditional end of world types, (most figured them for loons, including me at first), then there were eager and excitable scientist types, lastly there was everyone else who couldn’t conceptualise what was happening, it was just this thing in the news. Sure it was the topic of many conversations but we didn’t understand, and it was years away.

So it was quite a shock when the center of Leeds was rocked by an immense exclusion as a globe crashed right into it. I’m told this was only a small one, but I was within five miles of impact it never felt small. It was the advanced unit, there to probe and test how we’d react, the rest of their armada arrived a month later, with sporadic advanced drops in medium cities around the world in between.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 53: The Second Chance

This is the 53rd in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

The Second Chance, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 23rd January 2012

Word count: 865

Theme: saviour, hero, sacrifice, ultimate ultimate sacrifice, religion, end of the world, saving grace, fate

The story:

“Okay, I’m sorry it has to be you,” the professor said, his voice echoing round the damp dark cave, illuminated by only a couple of battery powered lanterns. Eric thought the Professor looked gaunt, these past few weeks had been tough on the whole group, but the Professor had seen his hopes and dreams smashed too.

“I volunteered, I know what I’m doing. I knew this quest of yours would be dangerous, and I volunteered anyway. Just make sure the people outside, know it was my honour to have been with them on this, and make sure the world knows how close it came,” Eric said nobly. “Well if I pull this off anyway.”

“You have my word,” the Professor said sombrely. “Right do you want me to go through this again?” he asked gesturing to the three inch cables protruding from the wall.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 51: Bait and Switch

This is the 51st a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

The Bleeding Heart, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 21st January 2012

Word count: 950

Theme: lost cause, grief, road less travelled, determination, love, serendipity

The story:

I was hoping, almost beyond hope, that my luck would change.

I was having the most crap of weeks, and it was hard to see how it could get worse, which is a silly thing to think. I should also point out that I had no idea how it could improve either. I’m not sure if I was an optimist, or a pessimist, I guess it’s academic now.

I guess I should give you the rundown, here goes, in one week:

  • I got made redundant, (and told the company was folding so no redundancy payments)
  • Broke up with my girlfriend of three years, (she didn’t want to be tied to someone she needed to financially support, I kid you not, her genuine words)
  • My car died, (and it’s going to cost a grand to fix)
  • My favourite television show was cancelled, (okay by orders of magnitude this is minor, but it all adds to the pain)

The list goes on and on, every little thing seemed against me. Let me tell you, it sucked the proverbial donkey nut, and then some.

But hey, for once in my life, I didn’t take it lying down, I decided, actually made a decision, to pick myself and get out there. After two days wasting away in my flat of course.

My indulgence of repeats of my show, served as grieving for the show itself, but for the way my life had suddenly gone as well.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 50: The Bleeding Heart

This is the 50th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

The Bleeding Heart, by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 20th January 2012

Word count: 999

Theme: hero, pariah, zombies, undead, soldiers, last stand, rescue

The story:

The doctor dragged the body inside the building, and the orderly slammed shut the door and barricaded it.

The doctor was on the floor checking for signs of life, and with none, he set about trying to return life to the body.

Thud!

Something hit the door.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 49: Connor, God Hunter

This is the 49th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

Connor, God Hunter by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 19th January 2012

Word count: 999

Theme: gods, fantasy, battles, vengeance, hunter, anti-hero

The story:

Connor used a cloud bank to gain some elevation as he ran along the holy plain. A god was flying ahead of him, in a race for life it looked like the god was winning. Connor though was not without power himself, how else could he have ascended to Ashatair, the home of the Gods? How else could he have taken down four other gods.

Connor looked like any other young man, tall, skinny, brash, and fond of being in the sun. However, despite his appearances he was nearer one hundred than twenty years old. An halfling of halflings,with powers hitherto unheard of.

Power, it’s why he was climbing up a cloud bank instead of chasing the fleeing god on the flat where he would be able to keep him insight. Connor drew his power from the sun, bathed in it’s light his power was furious, and as he broke through the clouds into clear skies, it washed over him, giving a boost. Connor ran for a few paces, until he felt he’d absorbed enough, and then he dived off the bank, and glided back down to the flat, staying above it and soaring until the god was in sight.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 48: Mortal Choices

This is the 48th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

Mortal Choices by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 18th January 2012

Word count: 994

Theme: destiny, hero, champion, evil, madness, magic, fate, prophecy

The story:

Eighteen hours to save the world, the creature had told Oliver, just eighteen hours. He’d also said that Oliver was the chosen one, destined to fight the raging storm of evil, hell bent on enveloping the world.

If he hadn’t been a tiny mouse covered in lizard scales, Oliver would have thought the creature nuts. Instead he could only conclude that he was hallucinating, shook his head and walked away.

Two hours later in work, at the local supermarket, he was quite surprised by an hallucination coming to him as he was scanning a tiramisu .

“Oliver you are the only hope for all our kinds,” the alsation sized scaly creature said.

“No thanks Leia,” Oliver said dismissively, hoping no one saw him talking to himself.

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Daily Flash Fiction Challenge 47: The Fallen Hero

This is the 47th in a series of 365 Flash Fiction stories I’m writing. You can find out more about the challenge here.

The Fallen Hero by Jonathan L. Lawrence, 17th January 2012

Word count: 1,000

Theme: heroes, fantasy, wrong choices, fate, prophecy, vengeance, guilt, remorse

The story:

“You have returned then,” the old man said hearing footsteps behind where he sat.

The footsteps stopped, but the creator said nothing.

“Come Caje, sit, this game is a little childish.”

The footsteps resumed, they walked around the desk, the chair moved, and then shuddered forward. The old man saw no one, but did not appear surprised. He sighed.

“Caje there is no need for the dagger, are we not friends?”

A figure shimmered into being, sat in the chair holding an ornate knife, which he then tucked inside his belt.

“You are right,” the scarred young man, dressed in soldiers garb said, “I am here, as I promised.”

“I sense not as promised, your journey has changed you,” the old man said.

“The journey you sent me on. The prophecy called for five, not six,” the young man said coldly. “What happened is on your head.”

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