Novelist

Novelist
Daniel (Danny) Lance Wright, Author

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Summer Doldrums

It’s not unusual at all. Many people sink into slumps. It doesn’t matter whether the endeavor is drafting a novel, repairing a plumbing problem, or needing a good time. When summer doldrums settle in, everything is a chore and nothing seems important or fun enough to act on. It’s late August, afternoons are hot and I’m deep into the ho-hums.
Looking back to the months of May and June, it seems almost inconceivable, now, that I took a story idea that had been floating around in my head for months and hammered out roughly forty thousand words and took the story arc to near mid-point in less than four weeks. It was an exciting time. I babbled on to my wife incessantly about taking the story this way or that. So much so, in fact, her eyes would glaze over with disinterest and her head would go into automatic nod mode. That didn’t matter, because I was into it and eager to progress the story.
Lately, I’ve been coming into my backyard to my little sanctuary where I do my writing and stare at the novel draft. If I get five hundred words down, it’s a miracle. Since that time in late spring, little has been added to the draft. I have slammed head-on into the summer doldrums.
Of course, I hope you read and can identify with this blog, maybe even enjoy it. But, the cold truth is, I’m writing this entry instead of working on the novel draft as a possible means of jump starting the mojo and get my head back into the writing game.
Before I had a blog to vent and share thoughts, I indulged often in “free-writing”. It’s a technique for overcoming such times as these. It’s easy. Sit at a keyboard and begin typing. Type what? You may ask. It doesn’t matter. Whatever is crossing your mind. Complete sentences? That doesn’t matter either. I assure you that, at some point in the process, thoughts will become cogent and you will begin writing an honest story, article, or essay and intended none of it when the process began. It’s amazing how it works. In fact, it works better when all thoughts are random and seemingly unconnected. That’s when the sub-conscious takes over and eventually settles on what is most important while in league with your fingers on the keyboard. If your thoughts are already solid, there’s no need to be free-writing anyhow. Just sit down and get busy on your writing project. But, if you sink into an unmotivated, directionless slump, give it a try. Honestly, early in my writing career, free-writing turned into several award winning short stories. And, that’s the truth.

I’m feeling better now. Sharing has a way of doing that. Have a wonderful day, y’all!

Saturday, August 16, 2014

"Annie's World 2: New Beginnings" Coming Soon to a bookseller near you

"Annie's World 2: New Beginnings" has been picked up by Booktrope and should be released first quarter 2015. I invite you to read the first in the series, "Annie's World: Jake's Legacy" (All Things That Matter Press) before Annie's World 2 is released. It's a touching sci fi/fantasy look at how easily the world can fall apart, yet hope and love can pull it all back together. Take the journey with genetically blessed Annie Henderson. Please share with your friends. Thanks.

http://www.amazon.com/Annies-World-Daniel-Lance-Wright/dp/0985006625/ref=sr_1_7?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1408193485&sr=1-7&keywords=daniel+lance+wright

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/annies-world-daniel-lance-wright/1111797819?ean=9780985006624

Friday, August 1, 2014

"Dancing Away": There's true love and then there's pure love

Occasionally, I pull out stories I've written and relive them. The purpose is to track style and determine if the long term metamorphosis of my story-telling is good or, maybe, return to a few of those style points  abandoned or set aside inadvertently. Sure, I have learned many things from other novelists, critics and reviewers but, sometimes, a simple look back at our own journey can be an educational reminder.

This morning, I opened a short story titled "Dancing Away" and read it for the first time in several years. I learned I have a style that needs to be revisited and incorporated into the romance novel I'm currently drafting.

Here is the first couple of pages of the short story, "Dancing Away":

I can’t breathe!
Why can’t I inhale?
My face, I can’t feel my face!
I know my hands are there, just as they have been for seventy-six years. My senses tell me so. But where are they?
What’s happening?
I see light—abundant light, yet I turn my hands this way and that and see nothing. The light flows over me liked warmed satin. Neither shadows nor objects are visible as far as the light shines.
This… Light… striates and flexes; there is comfort in it. I’m becoming aware that I stand witness to the length and breadth of infinity and know, I just somehow know, when the light fades, I’ll see universal truths reserved until this moment. I’m entwined in the past yet long to embrace the future. This awareness is simply instilled.
The draw is powerful. But another force of equal power tugs.
Again, it occurs to me that no breath enters my lungs.
Now I remember. It was a tumor, I think.
Knowing this answers nothing, just a reason for more questions. How is it I can contemplate these things, if in such pain?
Where is the pain?
Could it be powerful drugs?
I feel no discomforts, nothing but—but a tingling joy.
Josephine!
Bolting upright—at least it feels I have done so; it occurs to me that joy and Josephine are synonymous, inseparable; one cannot exist without the other.
My Jojo—memories flood in and burn white-hot. Desire fuels a fire as an accelerant tossed upon a flame.
We’ve become separated. I cannot see or call to her.
I want to shout her name but I have no voice.
My soundless distress has been heard. The Light wrinkles and I look down upon the saddened face of my Jojo, framed in lustrous silver hair holding the hand of a pathetically drawn man with tubes and wires splaying from his upper torso to points surrounding a hospital bed.
Suddenly, I feel warmth sliding across my palm—the palm of a hand I still cannot see. It’s Jojo.
I watch. She closes her eyes, saying something I cannot hear then sways to and fro. It’s rhythmic, like a dance.
Fearful this connection will be broken if I move, even twitch; I’ll be jettisoned from this place to… Heaven only knows where.
I long to hear the music and for that I cry tears I cannot see or feel.
My intention hardens.
I’ll not move, not even blink, for eternity if necessary. I refuse to sever this thread that keeps me bound.

I’ll be patient and wait for the day I can again hear the music.

"Dancing Away" is available for download at Amazon.com. 
http://www.amazon.com/Dancing-Away-Daniel-Lance-Wright-ebook/dp/B0056IAKWO/ref=sr_1_13?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1406887432&sr=1-13&keywords=daniel+lance+wright
If you decide to spend the $.99 for the download, I promise you will not be disappointed.