I Think I Know How to End This

In fact, I do.

I need to rewrite the first chapter. My notes say, "More amiable." I can do that.

I need to write the last MC POV chapter. There are some good ideas in my head and I'm horrible about getting them into letters n' words in a way that satisfies me.

The last chapter's POV being on the love interest has been planned for nearly as long as the work has been in progress. The chapter will be short and an exercise in showing and not telling. I want the big reveal, which took me months to realize, to happen on the second to last page.

And I want to turn the pathos to eleven.

Lion Girl and Ink

I've had a hokey idea about a girl attracting lions for a while. The lions escape their zoos and animal rescue farms, walking hundreds of miles to lie on her front yard, to be close to her. Another special girl I've wanted to write about is one who has ink weep from the palms of her hands.

Now, I'm trying to think of a story for them. I have some good premise on Lion Girl's POV. But Ink Girl is much more interesting. I've though about another special/mutant who is amoral and through a traumatic experience involving him, Ink Girl begins to weep ink from everywhere that doesn't have a sphincter to keep it in.

But following the plot I've thought up, the story would be around 30,000 words. That is not nearly long enough. Also, I wanted the love interest to be the main character from another story I want to write which I've been calling Beat 'em Up. But how to actually get him to hang out? I don't see any reason.

I've got some time to ruminate on it. I haven't finished the Rainwalkers rough draft yet.

Marathon

The challenge my two remaining characters have is swimming across Marathon Key. Unlike what it sound, it isn't twenty-six miles long. From the bridge on the east to the west bridge it's fourteen miles. Since all the keys they've seen after Upper Matecombe have been washed out, this is too.

I've been working on how to torture them as they swim across, but also keep them alive.

They leave with some two-year-old snacks and drinks in their backpacks. Empty bottles and unopened chip packages fill a carry-on bag, used as a flotation device.

The crap:

1. Everett wants some chips and opens the carry-on. The chip packages and bottles float out and the bag sinks. Everett freaks about how he just killed them. They're probably only to two miles into the swim. They decide to split the floating items 50/50 between their backpacks. I need to choose what items they stored in the carry-on, lost forever to the sea.
2. Mirka gives up. It's too much. She's tired. It's hopeless. They are dead. Then she sees boats on the horizon. Everett says she's seeing things, but recall that Ev has bad eyesight. Mirka swims off in some random direction. She is very excited. He's "Don't leave me," but believes she is killing them. She then changes her mind, saying she sees buildings on the water. She's right. They're buildings tall enough to stick out of the water. Everett and Mirka sleep the night in an upper condo.
3. There is a map drawn on the wall of one of the condos. People with a boat were trying to get away from Key West to the main land, struggling with the changed terrain. Everett and Mirka now know Key West exists. But the map has few details about getting to Key West as the things the others found important were areas Mirka and Everett have already seen.
4. Mirka and Everett recover for a day, gettin low on food. When the tide is low, the roofs of taller houses can be seen. They swim to them and dive for food - breaking windows, opening doors, and swimming through houses to find pantries. Cokes and bags of chips float, ya know.

That's what I'll be writing in the next few days. I still haven't picked my points on the food diving.

Writing Faster, More Discouraged

The swimming chapter "Florida Bay" is getting longer. Our protagonists swim, wade on sandbars, and walk atop bridges they must climb as the islands washed out. It's one micro-adventure after another. I'm not sure if it makes for interesting reading. There are fun scenes - cute, sad, and violent - but the chapter feels choppy to me.

I need to rewrite to first chapter. The first paragraph should pop pop pop. The first five pages need to make people say, "Ooh, forget that bacon I was cooking, the iron I left on, and the tub I'm filling, I want to sit down and read this puppy." It doesn't do that now. Particularly irritating is my attempt to establish the love between Everett and Iris on the first page. Having a guy play with his dog doesn't move the story along.

The Rainwalkers will shoot past its goal today or over the weekend. It's within four thousand words of the 60k goal and my characters are only a quarter of the way to Key West. They have a shark, the main character throwing the love interest off a bridge into shallow water, the protagonists being pelted by deadly rain, and a coma to go through. The main character trying to transport the love interest ten miles will take some words too.

The very final page, I have no clue. I have about six different ideas. Any of them could work if I had the skill to write them.

Like I said, discouraged.

Leaving Upper Matecombe Key

I finished one of my favorite chapters today. Now onto another chapter I hope I really enjoy, this one titled Florida Bay.

My main character and his love interest are swimming to the base of a bridge. The islands on the ends of it have been washed out. Our love interest believes the 78 mile swim to Key West is pointless. She thinks all the islands are washed away, including Key West. Our main character reassures her it's not really 78 miles. That's if they swim to the city center.

Spoiler: They only swim 42 miles. They see dolphins, a shark, are pulled under by the undertow, have to jump 30 feet into two feet of water, dive into houses underwater to get Doritos and Coke, and get blistering sunburns. And comas, they get comas too.

The Bay

I'm stalling on writing. My characters are about to go through a very discouraging time. I don't mind putting them in comas or getting them shot, but facing a bleak future of failure, that's not what I want for them.

They've reached Palm Beach, golf land, and it is a giant body of water. Everett tastes it and it's salty. It's a bay, not a lake. They head west to go around it. If you look at a map of Florida, you'll know how huge this bay would be if Palm Beach is under ten plus feet of water.

Everett will stop the truck 30 miles from the other coast, not wanting to discover if it's the end of Florida rather than a bay. If Florida stops there, they might have enough gas to get back to Daytona, where they got gas from buried cars, if they travel as the crow flies. The dunes of central Florida are not a thing they want to face.

[It's a bay. Woot!]

Almost in Tallahassee

Friday was a very productive day. I wrote the end of the Marianna chapter, knitting together a new fresh beginning to the previously written coma scenes, then getting an ending in there.

I decided to wait and write the proposal scene until the next chapter. Since they were stopping in Rosedale, halfway between Marianna and Tallahassee, the chapter name is Rosedale.

The chapter starts with Mirka driving the LLV rather than Everett. He's still weak from sleeping for six days. Neither pays attention to the setting sun, and they have to drive over partially covered streets in darkness. Everett walks in front of the truck, leading it to a parking lot, and keeping it from running into fallen trees or falling into a small man-made lake.

I originally didn't know what large building I had picked for them to hide the truck behind. But the miracle of Google Streetview has let me know it's Big Bend Jai-Alai.

It's not really your standard issue proposal, but it works in the post-apocalyptic Florida panhandle:

NOTE: ROUGH ROUGH DRAFT

She lay back down. They gazed into each others eyes. Everett yawned.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yawn in your face."

"Everett Bridges, would you like to get married?"

He blinked at her. "Sure." As she began to smile, he began to think. "How?"

She seemed to him to be bouncing around while lying down. Her smile was wider than he had ever seen.

She kissed him."We know all the words." She kissed him again. "We can do it ourself."

She kept kissing him. On his forehead or cheeks. She grabbed his head and they kissed on the lips. Then her enthusiasm slowed as she saw how confused he looked.

"OK, well, shouldn't we stand up first?"

"Oh, no. I've been thinking about this. When we get to Tallahassee, there'll be formal shops. And I'm sure the front of the state capital looks nice." She grabbed him by the collar. "You're going to look so handsome in a tux."

Everett smiled. He didn't understand her at all, but it was making her very happy. He loved seeing her happy. He loved just seeing her. He just loved her.

Share your Crap Tuesday

Well, It's another Tuesday so at Absolute Writes YA forum they ask you to share some of your stuff.

This is set after Mirka and Everett got together romantically. Jula, Mirka's sister, walked into the sandy wasteland of post-apocalyptic northern Florida allowing Everett and Mirka time to make out. But Jula gets caught in the rain and it's only a matter of time until she goes violently insane.

Everett walked out into the rain, which is sure death except he injects himself with dog blood, as dogs are immune to the rain, and he believes he just might be immune. Jula is mad at him because she thinks he has abandoned her sister by both of them dying.

Everett has injected Jula with as much of Iris's blood as he thinks Iris can take, then slits his wrist and had Jula drink his blood. She thinks he's crazy, but does it for Mirka.

Everett: 17 yr old male romantically with Mirka
Mirka: 17 yr old female
Jula: 14 yr old female, approves of Ev and Mirka's couplehood despite being a third wheel.
Iris: 1 1/2 yr old mixed breed dog that Everett loves dearly.
Everett's sister: Died nearly a year ago in a car crash that was Everett's fault.

Edited to add: Oh, they're at a firehouse in Mariana, FL.

Note: Totally totally rough draft.

She began sucking his blood faster. Everett looked down and saw she was glaring up at him. She was angry. If she was right, Everett had abandoned her sister. It was a mistake on Jula's part, but Everett had chosen.

She sucked harder. Everett started understanding. She wasn't trying to live by drinking his blood faster. She was trying to hurt him.

He felt dizzy. As he fell forward, he thought he saw Jula smile.

Everything went black.

#

He heard large birds fighting. Emus maybe. Iris barked at them but the squawks didn't change. Then he heard Mirka crying.

He opened his eyes. It was so bright.

The back of Jula's shirt had a V of blood from her ripping at the flesh on the back of her neck. Blood dripped from her arms as she screamed at Mirka.

Mirka held the 45 in front of her. Jula advanced on her regardless. A circular path of blood in the sand showed Mirka and Jula had been at it for some time.

Everett rotated the F2000 from his back and put the scope to his eye.

Jula screamed, "And you leave me for him! And you leave me for him! He'll want to feed me to his dog! He hates me! He steals you from me, just like the bikes! Oh, he got the bikes. Chop! Chop! Chop!"

Everett saw Mirka look at him. Her face was a red and wet with tears. She mouthed, "I can't do it."

"He chopped the bikes and he'll chop you! Food for the dog! I'm food for the dog and you're food for..."

Everett couldn't hear the words anymore despite her screaming them. He needed to shoot soon before he passed out. He fired.

A cone of blood erupted from Jula's head. She fell forward toward Mirka.

The brightness faded to black.

#

"OK, drink it."

Something was happening.

"It's water. C'mon. You need water. C'mon, c'mon."

It was a girl's voice. Everett choked on something. It was the girl's water.

He tried to open his eyes but couldn't.

"Everett, in a few hours I'm going to slap the hell out of you if you haven't woken up. OK? It's a deal then."

#

He could feel it. Something was happening. It was like fire. It hurt.

"Wake up, you son of a bitch! You can't do this to me! I need you! You can't die on me!"

A spike of pain.

"You can't!"

Another, somehow different.

"Can't die!"

He heard what might have been a machine, or birds, or crying. He didn't know. It all faded.

#

Iris was licking his face. He knew it was Iris. He wanted to move his hand to touch her fur or turn his head and kiss her on the nose.

Everett tried to open his eyes to see her.

He wanted to grab her and shake her and bite her hears.

It all faded.

#

"OK, baby. More water and then I'm moving you. It's going to rain soon. But I don't think that matters to you, Rainwalker."

It was the girl. He heard the words but couldn't remember them long enough for it to make sense. He tried to open his eyes but couldn't.

"OK, here it is."

He choked.

"See, I think that's good. When it goes down wrong you try to fix it. That's good." She cried.

He recognized the crying.

More choking. There was pulling on him. He had never been pulled.

#

Brightness. The girl was pulling his eyes.

"Are you in there? Good morning. You peed yourself last night so I'll clean that up. I'm going to try to feed you today and..."

#

He heard the crying. "It's water time."

He wanted to help her. He tried to open his eyes, or move. Maybe he could drink correctly. He never helped with that.

He felt the cup come to his lips. He choked.

#

"OK, put your hand here. That's Iris. That's your dog, Iris. She loves you and I love you. Can you hear me."

He heard the words but didn't understand. Dog's got eaten. Everyone wanted to eat his dog. His dog. He had a dog.

He knew who the girl was. It was his sister. His sister was alive. He fought to wake up.

#

"You're on your side. If you need to pee go ahead and do it. I'm going to go ahead and push on your real hard."

He felt pressure.

"Hey, good, good. Whoo, you needed to go. Ah, I should have planned this better. I'm going to let you sleep with a little pee on you tonight. I can't waste water cleaning. Maybe I should just put you in the rain."

#

"I'm sorry this is so spicy. I'm saving most of the bland, or at least not spicy, all the bland protein for Iris."

Spicy hot. Caliente. That's what they call it.

He choked. He couldn't stop coughing.

"Oh, baby, baby. I'm sorry. I'll mix it with water. I'll wash off the spices. That was a bad idea. I'll be right back."

#

Brightness.

Bright blue over bright tan. Bright blue sky over bright tan sand. He looked at it and didn't blink. He closed his eyes again.

"Thank you, sweet sweet Iris."

He opened his eyes and looked at the shadows of Mirka and Iris. They weren't shadows. They were silhouettes.

Mirka stopped and held out an arm. "Two cee-cees for me." She injected herself with Iris's blood. "And Two cee-cees for your master."

He tried to say, "I'm not her master." He didn't think it came out. Mirka started walking toward him. "She's my friend."

Mirka jerked upright. "Everett? Did you talk? You say something?" She swooped down on him. Her face loomed in his vision.

"I'm not her master. I'm her friend."

Mirka shook him and laughed and then cried. "Oh, Everett. Oh, Everett." She held him.

He concentrated and put his arm over her chest. Iris licked his face. "You're just after those spicy things." he told her.

Mirka sat up. "That was two days ago." She stroked his hair with her hand. "You've been asleep for six days."

I'm wondering if I should stretch out the coma days somehow. And, spoiler, the coma is the way the human body with dog antibodies is able to beat whatever is in the rain.

Rainwalkers Inspirational Pictures

Everett drives a modified Postal LLV, Long Life Vehicle and the rifle he keeps strapped to him at all times is a Herstal FN F2000, pictured below. That is a scope on top to compensate for Everett's poor eyesight [ooh, big spoiler there] and a grenade launcher on the bottom




The dustbowl of the 1930s show a good representation of the area near St. Louis where our book begins. The LLV can withstand dust storms, though they hide the road.



When they get to Florida they are confronted with sandstorm and dunes. Once they are halfway down the panhandle, near Kennedy Space Center and Orlando, the effects of the tentatively named Hurricane Drake can be seen.



When Everett and Mirka enter the swimming portion of their journey, they have 91 miles to Key West. This is the Seven Mile Bridge. You can clearly see some hiding spots to avoid the deadly rain. I particularly like this photo as it is overcast and shows no vegetation. It could represent exactly the world they live in.

Blogroll Tuesday?

I've become active in an online writers support forum. Wow, that sounds like such a confession. In any case, in the young adult area they have Blogroll Tuesday where you post part of your work in progress on your blog and link to it.

And, no, I'm not skulking amongst teens. I'm skulking amongst adults, writing a post-apocalyptic teen romance . My first book could never sell. This was designed to maybe sell.

Backstory:

• Everett is a 17 year old who has survived two years in a world with no plants or animals.
• Raging is caused if you are touched by the rain. You will rip yourself apart and attack anyone nearby.
• Iris is a dog, Everett's only family.

From yesterday's [rough draft] writing:

Between Turrell and Gilmore, at a convoluted exit ramp system, a man stood in the path of Everett's truck, waving his arms.

Everett, still traveling only thirty miles per hour, stared at the man not knowing what to do. The man was clearly yelling at him, but showed no signs of raging.

Everett changed lanes to avoid him. The man moved over. Everett started changing back. The man shuffled back into the other lane, all along shouting and waving.

Scooting over in his seat, Everett took the pistol from its cubby in the dash. He stuck it outside the open window and aimed it in the man's general direction.

Everett moved to the side the man wasn't in. The man stayed put but still shouted and waved.

As the truck passed, Everett heard the man yell, "Help! Stop! I'm alone! If you..."

In his rearview mirror, Everett watched the man cover his face with both hands and shake.

Glancing at Iris who stared at him, Everett said, "He would have killed us. He was probably part of a group or something. Ambush, ya know." He nodded, trying to convince himself.

Thirty-Five?

I finished the first draft of chapter one yesterday and cranked out the first draft of the final chapter, chapter eleven, this morning.

Being the geek I am, I made a spreadsheet totaling word counts. Chapter one was 3.5k and chapter eleven a measly 860 words. Averaged, that gives us 2.6k, times eleven gives us 35,000 words.

What? This is supposed to be 60k, hitting the YA market squarely at the average length. Time to start describing landscapes. Eek.

Quit Writing! Go to Sleep!

I finished the first draft of Rainwalkers' chapter one. It's been renamed from Iredell to Poplar Bluff. All the chapters have been renamed to locations. It's fun putting Covington, LA, where my sister-in-law lives, and Chipley, largest 'city' to where my mother grew up, into the book.

I'm a little worried about the final word count. I only have 11 chapters and my first is only 3.5k words. Since this is young adult, I am shooting for the 60k benchmark. Previously, I'd deleted one scene and with the way I've changed another it can't be added back in.

The next chapter I want to write is the ending. That way I have longer to tweak it to make it nice. I'm iffy on my transition from chapter one to two since my protagonist is going to make a six hour drive before noon. There's nothing wrong with this, but it will be the busiest day ever. Though, I only have this problem because I'm using real places and Google Maps to get the info right.

But who's been to Poplar Bluff, MO anyway?

I have an appointment with my sleep doctor tomorrow. I've been staying up too late since my last appointment a year ago. Before that, really. Now I have to trudge in and say, "I am dumb." for him.

ACE Hardware FTW

So, your post-apocalyptic postal LLV has fallen off a broken bridge on the south end of Upper Matecumbe Key in the Florida Keys. You need to get to Key West despite all the islands between your present location and Ohio Key are washed out. That's 41 miles of swimming, walking on sand bars, or magically ascending to the remaining bridges.

Considering the journey has swims of up to seven miles, my guys needed some floatation device. So, I asked in the sci-fi forum at Absolute Write. I let them know that all vegitation and 99% of all animals died two years ago. My first response was "Lumber."

Lumber? To prove him wrong I searched the area in Google Maps for lumber, and wouldn't you know. They passed an ACE Hardware less than a mile from their crash site. Though, of course, all lumber and useful supplies will be gone.

One main character says the foam sheets they put on buildings when they're being built would have been perfect. Female MC asks what it's used for. Male then says, "I guess to keep the rain out." She says, "So they take it off before they put the rest on?" Since the answer is no, they bust through the wall and get some kickboards out of it.

They also need a bucket to catch rain in. They'll take a paint can and pour out the paint.

Map of rediculous Florida Key journey is here:

View Rainwalkers in a larger map
There are no labels on the walking icons, but they denote where existing bridges start and stop.

The Overseas Highway Hates Rainwalkers

After outlining a YA dystopian adventure, I started research and found the bridge to Key West is all wrong. It should be as I imagined it. My action depended on it being a very long, two-lane divided highway.

The only way to fix this predicament was to make the land bridges between Upper Matecumbe Key and Ohio Key washed out, causing our protagonists to occasionally swim up to seven miles while avoiding toxic rain.

They'll be able to occasionally find a sandbar to stand on, but I'm trying to think of natural flotation devices available in a world where all vegetation died off two years ago.