I almost made it. Almost got a 50,000 words novel written in November. Alas, it was not meant to be.
Here is my progress as of last night.
Sure, it looks like I made it, but I came up one word short at 49,999 words.
Of course, the novel is not yet finished, and worse yet, since I rushed a bit on the last two days I need to take a breather and reassess where I am with it and where I am heading.
To my readers, don’t worry, I will finished it, but give me a week or two. Meanwhile, I will put up a chapter at a time as I have been.
As in prior years, all of it will go up on the blog. But, as in prior years, all but the first two chapters are offered up in password-protected posts.
E-mail me a request if you are interested in reading further (read the first two chapters to decide if you are interested.)
The next post will contain Chapter 19 and it will go up immediately after this post goes live. As I said, it’s password protected.
Please, don’t just ask for a password just to make me feel good. Unless you intend to read it, don’t ask. I will not feel hurt, I will not cry myself to sleep, I will not hate anyone who chooses not to read my effort. I will, however, get a little miffed if I get asked for passwords by a bunch of people and then only my usual four or five readers actually read the stuff.
I should also mention that NaNoWriMo was not the only writing I did. I actually entered this monthly contest. For them who don’t click on links, the contest asked for Christmas Flash Fiction submissions. Specifically, invasion stories.
“This year our flash fiction contest is all about Christmas invasions. Whether your invaders are robots, aliens, or sentient Christmas ornaments is completely up to you, but if you want to win, you must write us a story no longer than 250 words that deals with an invasion and Christmas.”
I was pressed for time, but I wrote two . . .
Copyright 2015, E. J. D’Alise
They dropped from the sky, mindless and insensitive to the harm they caused. There had been warnings, but humans have a bad track record when it comes to heeding warnings.
The authorities knew and prepared to fight, but were wholly overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the onslaught. Individually beautiful, they dropped from the sky numerous enough to blanket the landscape. Driving became impossible, and even walking was a struggle. The very sound of human existence was muted by their airborne numbers.
Some humans chose to fight with an assortment of weapons, from the highly sophisticated to no more than a blade on a contoured handle. Still, the invaders dropped from the sky numerous enough to overwhelm even the most obstinate of fighters.
Near the end, people huddled in their homes, and no man or machine could be seen moving as wave after wave of the sky invaders descended on the human landscape.
As quickly as it began, it ended. A few people emerged from whatever shelter they had found, venturing out into the still air and onto an unrecognizable landscape where nothing stirred. But, the stillness did not last.
First heard, was the sound of children. At first faint, it grew stronger, their laughter echoing in the transformed streets and yards. Eventually, more adults ventured out and some even found reasons to smile.
“I hate snow, but at least we’ll have a White Christmas,” many said in consolation.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ o o o ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Copyright 2015, E. J. D’Alise
Swift, the battle had been. Waged in Europe, the Americas, Australia and New Zealand, it had been a valiant but ultimately futile fight against greed-driven and ruthless invaders.
The Navigators, they called themselves. Ichthyoid in appearance, they traveled in huge crafts resembling transparent water-filled bowls. Scouring galaxies, they descended on unsuspecting planets looking for specific treasures. Their attention had turned toward Earth after intercepting an old Tonight Show broadcast.
Completely missing the point, the Navigators fleet immediately plotted a course that intercepted Earth in the year 2015, local time. December 7th, to be precise, adding to the memorability of the date.
The combined military might of three continents did little more than put a few scratches on the interstellar spacebowls. Before long, their demand for unconditional surrender was accepted.
December 11th saw the first meeting between Western World Leaders and the aquatic victors. Air-filled translation-capable pods carried the humans inside the spacebowls to hear the cost humanity would bear.
“Fruitcakes and fruitcake bakers,” the conquerors said.
“Pardon?” many of the leaders had responded in unison.
Ultimately, the Navigators were inflexible and unyielding. Under penalty of death, all of the fruitcake bakers, their recipes, existing fruitcakes, and fruitcake-making supplies were rounded up from each corner of the hemisphere and loaded onto a specially prepared air-filled spacebowl fruitcake factory and whisked away by the Navigators.
. . . and Christmas 2015 and every Christmas thereafter were the better for it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ o o o ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Now, I admit the first is kind of weak (twenty minutes of writing) and Apex is an “edgy” magazine. The stories they publish tend to be dark and written in a style I can’t muster.
Still, I thought the second one might have a shot just because of the humor of it (who doesn’t like humor)? Alas, it was not meant to be. On the other hand, I got two additional rejections toward my goal of eight-hundred rejections.
. . . perhaps they missed the nod to the Christmas Pilot Fish invasion (Dr. Who – 2005 Christmas Special) . . .
The winning stories will appear online on Christmas week, and I am anxious to read the winning stories.
I also submitted two stories to this contest. It’s not over yet, so I can’t post them until I don’t win.
That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.
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. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.