No, but seriously this time.
I'm picking up blogging again. I've decided that I miss the eclectic, episodic style of blogging, and that I want to start this one up again. Here's a quick recap of these past months, to get everyone on the same page:
I enrolled in a class called "Advanced Creative Writing: Fiction" this semester. The goal for the class could be summed up quite simply this way: write a novel. I had wanted to take the class ever since I heard about it my freshman year, and so I decided to become an English Minor in order to do this.* It didn't disappoint. We began by reading a few chapters from a book about writing books. Then delved into some theory, honed our character development and dialogue skills, and then turned in chapter one. After that, it was pretty much every week that we were required to turn in a chapter of some sort. Ten chapters, ten pages each. All said and done, we needed a 100-page manuscript to pass the class.
In May when we turned in our drafts, I was at ten chapters and 118 pages. And my plot was nowhere near done. Since school's let out for the summer, I have completed chapters 11 and 12, and have almost finished chapter 13.** I should have the whole work done in a few weeks, probably rounding out to 15 or 16 chapters. I'll need a mess of revisions and re-writes, which means I'll need an army of proofreaders... so if you're interested in receiving a copy,*** leave me a comment and I'll mail you one when it's ready to go.
Writing my novel was an extremely entertaining experience. I began with a clear idea of what my novel would be. Over Christmas break, I developed the setting and characters. It would take place at Montana State University, and center around three different students. Aaron, a delinquent freshman who gets his kicks out of provoking people into fighting him. Justin, a Christian sophomore who just wants to get by and graduate. And Eric, a senior who belongs to a secret society of sorts. I would develop the setting, MSU, and then have the characters go about their lives, sometimes interacting with each other, but mainly keeping to their own groups of friends. I would use this to explore the deeper questions in life. Why are we here? What are we to do with our lives? How do we deal with pain and loss? Where do we find joy? You know, the stuff novels are made of.
About January, however, I decided that I wanted my novel set in Portland. Or Seattle. Somewhere gloomy and melancholy, where a brooding high school senior named Isaac lived with his mom in a large apartment complex. Isaac was really into the bike scene, riding his stripped-down fixed gear through the back alleys and along the river with his younger high school friends. A reluctant leader of younger guys who looked up to him and expected more of him than he wanted to give. I'd use this to explore the deeper questions in life. Why are we here? What are we to do with our lives? How do we deal with pain and loss? What is a really cool name to give a fixed gear bike?
By the third week of class, we had to turn in our statements of intent. The basics of our novel - who was/were the main character(s), where did it all take place, who was the narrator. By this time, I had it down for sure. Forget the deeper questions in life... My novel was going to be set in space. Humanity had migrated across the stars. Interstellar travel was made possible by the discovery of superhumans who could utilize a Force-like power to propel ships through the vastness of space. The colonization of the stars was just underway, however, with the rules of the wild west in play - whoever has the biggest guns makes the rules. Our protagonist wakes up in the medical ward of a ship without any memory. He stumbles his way into a fierce conflict between the Federation and the rebels, unsure of which side to join.
The week after that, I had it down for sure. My professor roller her eyes as I pitched my forth (and final) plot line. I ended up with Izaac^, a young superhuman who lives in the enormous city-building of Denver sometime in the distant future. Spurned by the most prestigious superhuman academy on the planet, Izaac falls in with a group of resistance fighters who want to deactivate the source of the superhumans' powers.^^
And so the writing began. Now here I am, six months, 13 chapters, and 150 pages later. I realized the other day, however, that I want to start writing things completely unrelated to Izaac or his plight with the resistance fighters. I think this will help me finish, as it will provide an outlet for the times when I don't feel like sitting down and writing. I can write about whatever I want!
Politics? Sure. Starbucks? You bet. Summer time in Colorado? Why not.
Oh, blogging. How I've missed you.
Thanks for reading,
-Daniel K
*This is only a slight exaggeration.
**I decided to take a break from chapter thirteen to update my blog, in fact. I just got done with the only romance scene in the whole piece, and it was exhausting. Romance is annoying.
***And you promise not to steal my idea and publish it under your name.
^Spelling it "Izaac" instead of "Isaac" is how you know it's set in the future.
^^This is purposefully vague. I was only half-kidding about my fear of someone stealing my idea.
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