The Next Big Thing Bloghop

I've posted this on my shiny new Wordpress blog as well, but I figure, y'know what? Let's keep this blog updating while I figure out what I'm doing with myself, so here you go.

I got tagged to do this, so what better way to christen my new blog than by filling out these questions? Good thing I've got answers to these Q'S! Here we go..

What is the working title of your book?

The current WIP I have going is called "Blaze Tuesday and the Case of the (something something)" I haven't exactly figured out a snappy way to title this case, but it's book 2 of a series, so there's that, I suppose?

Where did the idea for your book come from?

My mom calls it a "Star Trek Holo-deck Adventure". I've always had a fascination with noir films and hardboiled detective novels. So I took those elements and set them into a semi-futuristic SteamPunk kind of world.

What Genre does it fall under?

Hell if I know. Probably "Crime" and "Science Fiction", but you can call it whatever you want.

What is the one sentence synopsis of your book?

Blaze Tuesday and his partner, Jackson Early, have had tough cases before, but never anything so tough as protecting a bombshell babe from the wrath of New York's mob -- and living to tell the tale.

Will your book be self-published, or represented by an agency?

I'm hoping for the latter, but won't turn my nose up at self-publication.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

Ha. Ha... um... this one isn't finished, but the story that comes before this one (since it's in a series) I wrote, edited and polished during NaNoWriMo 2012. So far, I've just started the second book, so I'm hoping it'll take me about 6 weeks. My editor is awesome and works SUPER fast.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Dresden Files. And maybe a less funny version of Dirk Gently. Shades of Marlowe, too. I try not to copy other people's styles because I have my own and that means that I don't have to think too hard about being exact in my copying. :D

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Funny this would come up. I'm working on developing Blaze Tuesday into a TV show. Ideal casting?

Blaze Tuesday: Brian Mahoney or Sean Patrick Flanery. Or, if he was done with Psych, Timothy Omundson. Blaze is an older, kind of grizzled detective, so someone who can bring the sarcasm and the whole "super good guy upholding the law" kind of vibe.

Jackson Early: Misha Collins... Or Sean Patrick Flanery, depending on who was cast as Blaze. Jackson is younger than Blaze, so that's kind of a factor. I also wouldn't be opposed to Andrew Lincoln taking up the role of Jackson.

Trixie Luna: Blaze's secretary, who is dating Jackson... huh... I haven't really thought about this one. She'd have to be cute, bubbly and get the soul-crushing "I will get what I want" look, down. I could see a young Catherine Tate playing her. Because, damn if Donna Noble didn't have that "bitch, please" look DOWN.

Kali (last name hasn't been decided yet): Blaze's crush since forever. Also the coroner he used to work with and still uses as a consultant. I honestly haven't got a clue. If I can play TimeLord and pick anyone, I'd probably go with Melissa McBride as a young woman because I love her so much. Like SO much. You have no idea. It's a legitimate crush. :D

Chief Fredricks: IronE Singleton. I miss him in Walking Dead. (Three guesses about what shows I watch.) Funnily enough, when I wrote this character, I was imagining Michael Clarke Duncan and then remembered that he died earlier in 2012, and then was sad. So I changed my mind and wrote the character with IronE in mind.

Who or what inspired you to write this book?

I love to read mystery books, but I have always been afraid to write mystery and crime books because they intimidated me. I used NaNoWriMo to force myself to write something outside of my comfort zone, so I did it and I couldn't have been happier with the outcome. Hell, I even entered it into the Curiosity Quills NaNo Virtuosos contest! (Vote for me starting on the 14th!) I've also been obsessed with hardboiled detectives for as long as I can remember, so it seemed natural that I'd eventually start writing one!

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest?

Mystery, intrigue and clockwork robot implants aren't enough? Mob hits on beautiful women aren't enough? I plan to keep this as an ongoing series with lots of different plots and wonderfulness. I can promise a good time and you'll have my undying love forever? I'm also not opposed to fan fiction! Ha ha!

I have no idea who to tag, someone remind me to tag other people when I find other people to tag, okay?

Tagging:

seeredwrite.wordpress.com

NaNoWriMo follow up

Warning: Contains me being positive and uplifting, supportive, cussing AND LOVE. (Taken from my tumblr)

So we’re 6 days into December and NaNoWriMo has come and gone. Holy crap. Time flies. Now though, I’m hearing a lot of people in the writing community complain about their “wins” and “losses” in November. 

Let me put it right out there in black and white for everyone: not hitting 50 k words in November is not a “loss.” IT IS NOT A LOSS. Hitting, meeting, or surpassing 50 k words in November is not a “win.” IT IS NOT A WIN. 

Do you see where I’m going with this?

The numbers and the deadline are arbitrary. Just because you were unable to pump out a first draft of 50,000 words or more in 30 days doesn’t mean that you’re “not cut out to be a writer”, or that “you’ll never make it as a novelist”, or that “you’re not good enough to write,” or any of the other negative things that you’re probably complaining about after your so-called “loss”. It means that maybe 50,000 words in 30 days doesn’t work for you. And that’s all right! Maybe your one story didn’t quite make it to 50,000 words. That’s also cool! Maybe November was a busy as hell month and you couldn’t devote the time to writing that you had anticipated. That’s perfectly all right, too.

And let’s look at the flip side of that! Just because you wrote 50k, or 100k, or, like some insane people that I know, 285k and beyond, well, that doesn’t mean that you’re gonna “make it” as a writer either. It doesn’t mean you’re “good enough” or that you’re “cut out” to be a writer. It means that you had a whirlwind month and one or more story ideas that seemed to magically flow from your fingertips onto the pages of your draft and into your computer or whatever the hell you use to write that many words in 30 days. (You insane, freaky ass cyborgs you.)

While yes, the feeling of accomplishment from finishing the first draft of your novel is a great thing, the point is to build good writing habits that should theoretically stick with you year-round. Making yourself the time to sit and write 1667 words a day (minimum) is the goal. They say that it takes 30 days of repetition for an action to become a habit. Oh look at that. Writing 1667 words per day for 30 days. Huh, seems like they were trying to reinforce the idea of making writing a habit, wouldn’t you agree?

Personally, I do NaNoWriMo every year. I have been participating for 4 years. And I participated in both “Camp NaNo” session this year. I have completed (and surpassed) the 50,000 word goal on every one of them. Out of those 6 sessions, only 2 works have been polished enough to merit submissions to anything. The third one is nearing completion but is getting cut down to around 35,000 words and will finish life as a “novella”. The other three things I’ve written are being completely discarded and reworked when I feel like delving back into them, which will likely never happen.

All of the works I’ve submitted have needed major polishing. Nothing was perfect right out of the gate. And, I’ve managed to keep the writing habit year-round, however. I write other things too, so there’s one good thing about being a “Wrimo”.

The point of it all is this: stop beating yourself up over an arbitrary number that dictates whether you’ve “won” or “lost” NaNoWriMo. Face it. “Win” or “lose”, you still ended up with more words than you had at the beginning of the month. And that is the goal in the long run. 

On Ego

I've noticed that a lot of writers (myself included) have a somewhat inflated sense of self. Whether it's ego, or something else, I'm not sure, but I find that so many of my writer friends have this mentality.

I know PLENTY of other writers who think the same way, they're all cocky, self-assured creatures who have the mindset that they are awesome and deserve ALL the accolades and the worship and paycheck that goes with being an internationally best-selling author.

Whether this is true or not in the public eye remains to be seen.

But the mindset is abundantly clear.

I'm a cocky, self-assured little wench. I think I'm awesome. I think that I have a distinct, unique style in my writing and that my works deserve to be shared (you know, when I get around to polishing everything and editing and all that other stuff.) I know that I use the cockiness as a defense mechanism. I work myself up to the point that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am [insert positive adjective here] and that good things will come to me for whatever reason I choose to maintain the egoism. For me, it makes rejection a thousand times easier. It means that I can get over the disappointment a lot faster and work on improving what needs improving so that I can try again.

Having said that, I'm perfectly willing to have an open discussion about what [needs improvement, what (you) liked, hated, feelings the words evoked etc. etc. etc.] and take criticism, constructive or not.

I am also all about building my fellow writers up and sharing in their successes (and alternately, being there to grieve with them in their failures).

Writing is a lonely, lonely job. You lock yourself away to be in the throes of your imagination for hours on end. Alone. Because working alone is when you get the best work done. You only get social interaction when you're in the editing/critique/beta reading phase, and usually that's all business. Then it's back to revising. Rinse and repeat.

So why, then, is it SO COMMON with other writers to be self-righteous dicks? I'm not saying that I am immune to this, I'm only human, but I do try my hardest not to fall into that trap of ego and self-righteousness. I'm also certainly not saying that EVERY author is like this either. As with any group, there are some bad apples that you would much rather avoid.

Still, I see it all the time. I see blogs that are entirely self-serving (which you know, 99% of blogs are) or I see online discussions where the writers are condescending towards one another, and everyone else involved. I feel like the vast majority of writers are convinced that they are the next Hemingway or something and that everyone else is sufficiently beneath them. It's a very sad state of affairs. Most of these "authors" aren't even published and still they treat everyone else with an air of disdain and sarcasm. The worst is when I see other people/authors talk down to others. The biggest rule is that your audience is not stupid, you shouldn't treat them as such.

Your ego shouldn't be getting in the way of your relationships with other people. Especially with other authors. You never know when that smug and cocky tone of condescension is going to accidentally burn a bridge that would have otherwise helped you.

I mean really, we're all in this together, right? So why not support each other along? Rejoice in one person's success and offer sympathy in times of failure, but don't be smug and self-satisfied about it. And certainly don't be condescending. We can all get along in the literary sandbox. Right?

Kai Kiriyama lives in Calgary, Alberta with her pet snake Rhaegar and too many books to fit in one room. 

She is a monthly contributor to Zombie Training Magazine, which you can find here if you're so inclined.

You may reach Kai through email here! 
Or you can find her on Facebook if you're into social media.
Kai is also on Tumblr here! 
And of course you can follow on Twitter

The Dreaded Slump

Bollocks.

I'm pretty sure I've fallen into the dreaded "week 2 slump" that tends to plague NaNoWriMo participants yearly.

Usually when I participate in NaNoWriMo, I'm what our local group affectionately refers to as a "cyborg" -- meaning that I can hammer out 1000+ words in 15 minutes. I hate that idea, but when we're sprinting and doing word wars, it makes for better competition when you have a group of people ALL pumping out 1000+ words in 15 minutes.

Last year, I wrote 150,000 words in the month of November. Before that it was 77,000 while working 3 jobs totaling 70 hour work weeks.

Suffice it to say that only 1 of the stories I've written has made it through the editing process without making me wanna barf or with me giving up on the story in general with the intention to come back to it at a later date.

I don't typically fall for the "slump" of a writing deadline like this. In fact, I typically thrive under the pressure. And, if I do end up with a slump, it usually hits me around the 22nd or so, right in the homestretch.

So I'm a little bit lost.

It isn't writer's block. Far from it. I have all the ideas in my head, I know where the story needs to go and where I want it to go. It's just that procrastination is coming so much easier to me this month than ever. Sitting at my computer means that I'm either filling my brain with useless things or scouring the depths of social media or just doing something completely unrelated to writing.

I just don't know what's wrong with me, and it's frustrating. Not even caffeine is helping. Nor is getting "enough" sleep at night.

I think this is the "slump" that all insane NaNo'ers talk about.

Still, I'm doing something right. I have my butt in my chair and I'm forcing myself to peck out a few words here and there, even if they're not the huge amounts of words I usually spew forth.

Anyone have any useful suggestions for making the words work?

Today is a day where I really don't feel like writing. But I'm still sitting here at my computer, typing. The words are coming slower than I would like, it's a little harder to focus (obviously, as I'm posting this to multiple social networking sites and my blog) but I have put my butt in my chair and am doing what I can.

This is the first step you have to realize you need to take when you're truly being devoted to your craft: do it even when you don't feel like it. 

There are times when I have been DESPERATE to write and have been unable to. Those days are worse for me than the days where I feel like I'm not in the right mindset to write. I can press keys and form sentences even if I don't feel like it, but when I have thousands of ideas floating around in my mind and I'm unable to write them down? That's the part that kills me.

I guess that this is a very timely thing to write as we're halfway through week two of NaNoWriMo and a lot of people are starting to feel the dreaded "slump" that comes when creativity flows constantly and so quickly in a mad rush to meet the deadline of 50,000 words in 30 days.

But if you are truly devoted to what you're doing, to your craft, be it writing, or music, or art or something else, then you will continue on. You will move ahead, and move forward. You will power through the fact that you really don't wanna be doing this and you'll make yourself proud to overcome the fact that you don't feel like doing this.

Believe me. There is very little more empowering than working through your self-doubts and your lack of motivation to meet a goal.

Go forth and succeed. 

Love,

Kai Kiriyama

Kai Kiriyama lives in Canada with her pet snake Rhaegar. She drinks far too much tea for anyone's safety.

Kai writes for Zombie Training magazine, which you can find here: www.zombie training .com

To contact Kai, you can ask her things on tumblr (thekiriyamaheir.tumblr.com) or find her on twitter (@thekiriyamaheir) or on facebook (facebook.com/authorkaikiriyama)

Best Line of the Day: Blaze Tuesday

This is my favorite passage that I wrote today. It is from Blaze Tuesday and the Case of the Night Surgeon.

I hope you enjoy this glimpse into Blaze's head.

Cheers.
-Kai Kiriyama

I had to walk past the morgue, and I tried not to stop and peer inside. I hated the morgue, always had. Dead bodies in coolers was a horrifying concept. Like macabre leftovers just waiting for the time when they'd be brought out, reheated and examined.

I shuddered at the thought and reminded myself to throw out all the leftovers in my fridge back at my apartment when I got home.

Excerpt: Blaze Tuesday and the Case of the Night Surgeon

This is an excerpt from the current novel I'm writing.

Enjoy.

Chapter One

I wish that I had a more awesome description to start this story off with. You know, “it was a dark and stormy night” or something similar. The problem is that I don't. It doesn't always start out strong and interesting. Sometimes, the story starts out a little plainer than what we hope for and even the most innocent and boring of things turns out to be the start of something good.

My story started nearly fifty years ago; but I'm not here to tell you about my life. All you need to know about me is what's current. My name is Blaze Tuesday. I'm a private investigator in New York. I used to be a cop, but I gave that shit up five years ago. The corruption in the system made me wanna puke, so I quit. Now, I run a fairly successful P.I firm with my partner, Jackson Early. I'm nothin' special; I'm about five foot ten, blue eyes, grey hair that I keep cut fairly short. I'm skinny... kind of. I try to keep myself in pretty good physical condition since chasin' perps down dark alleys isn't the easiest thing in the world. I like to think that I'm pretty good lookin'; I haven't got any body mods or clockwork though, so I'm not everyone's cup of tea, but I wouldn't call myself rugged or nothin'. Modesty is my biggest virtue... Sarcasm is probably my biggest flaw.

Anyway, this story starts out pretty boring. I was sitting in my office, like usual. I run a pretty lax ship when it comes to the P.I firm. I own the whole building and my secretary and I live in the apartments upstairs. The building is okay; it's an ancient thing left over from the early 1900's back when New York was a major city. I guess New York is still a major city, but the cost of living sure dropped off after the oil crisis of the mid-2000's. Everything inside the building has been updated, though, and it's pretty nice, even if I am a terrible housekeeper.

I'm not stingy with office furniture, neither. I've spent a good chunk of money furnishing the place. Nice desks, decent couches int he waiting room. Killer office chairs. There's honestly nothin' worse than sitting in a chair for eight hours and havin' your ass fall asleep. By the time you stand up to work some feelin' back into your posterior, it's guaranteed that the hottest broad you'll ever see will walk into your office. Trust me; I've been there.

It had been a long day already and I was reclining, feet up on my desk, debating on if the vintage, blue paisley wallpaper in the building was actually worth keeping, or if it was contributing to the pounding migraine that was settling into the back of my skull, when my secretary knocked on the door.

I groaned under my breath, but didn't move from my spot. I was comfy and to hell with what anyone else thought.

“Yeah? Come in.” I said.

Trixie pushed open the thick wooden door and stared at me with a look of familiar contempt. She'd seen me do this a thousand times before. I flashed her my winning smile and she folded her arms over her chest in response.

Trixie Luna was pretty cute. She was in her mid-twenties, bookish, with red hair and the most intense green eyes ever. I kid you not, she could stare right into your soul with those peepers. Add the cat's eye glasses she always wore and you had a hot secretary fantasy waiting to happen. Or something. I dunno, she wasn't as buxom as I liked, but she was a good kid, smart and she made the best cup of joe this side of Manhattan.

We stared at each other for a long moment before a smile slowly crept across her face, and we both started to laugh. We couldn't take this job too seriously sometimes; it wasn't worth the trouble.

“You're gonna fall over one day, sittin' like that.” Trixie informed me matter of factly. “You're gonna hit your head on the floor, crack your skull open and I ain't callin' you an ambulance. That's out of my pay scale.”

She had a point. I really didn't pay her enough to deal with avoidable accidents.

Slowly, I took my feet off my desk and sat up straight. Trixie relaxed and stepped a little further into my office so that we could talk.

“So what do you need?” I asked.

“You've got a client waiting for you in the lobby.” Trixie explained.

“Did you get any details about what they want?” I asked, bored already. “You know that I'm pretty busy these days.”

Trixie rolled her eyes at me, clearly not buying my excuses.

“So I'll take that as a 'no' then?” I teased, grinning cheekily at her.

“It's not in my job description to ask.” Trixie shot back.

“Well, maybe it's time for me to change your job description?” I considered, still grinning. I sighed and waved my hand. “Let Jackson deal with it?”

Trixie's mouth formed a thin line on her face. I knew that look all too well; I'd seen it more times than I cared to admit. She closed the almost soundproof door and wheeled on me.

“Jackson is currently working three cases, Blaze.” Trixie said, her voice low and angry. “Good cases, too. Cases that you declined for whatever arrogant reason you came up with at the time. There's been steady work rollin' in for the past month and you've turned down almost all of it!”

I shrugged. “They were boring, unimportant things.”

“They were important to the people trying to hire you.”

“Irrelevant.” I yawned. “Besides, Jackson closed all of them anyway.”

“And you're running him ragged!”

“He doesn't have to accept every case that walks through our front door. There are plenty of other private eyes in our fair city.”

Trixie strode across the small space between the door and my desk. She pressed her palms flat against the smooth, dark wood and leaned forward. I hadn't noticed how low cut her blouse was until she leaned forward, and I found my eyes wandering for a moment.

“So you want me to just take this case, don't you?”

“That would be a nice start.” Trixie agreed.

I stared up at her for a long moment. She stared back, entirely unamused and I had a sinking feeling that I wasn't going to win this argument.

“Are you sure that Jackson can't take this one?”

The blush crawling up Trixie's neck and onto her cheeks told me exactly how pissed off she was. I braced myself for the verbal bitch slap I was about to get.

“Obviously I was wrong about you, Mister Tuesday. And here I thought that I was working for the most accomplished private eye in all of New York.” Trixie drawled. “What a shame it is to find out that I'm really just working for a lazy, arrogant, self-entitled dickwad who can't be bothered to move his ass to take a job to pay his bills and, oh, I dunno, maintain his outstanding reputation.”

“Are you done slandering me?” I asked. “I might start to get offended.”

“Are you done with this false macho bravado that you seem intent on putting on to alienate your entire clientele?”

“Who said it was a false bravado?”

Trixie gave me a look that would curdle milk. Any of those hot secretary fantasies I mentioned? Instantly gone.

“Fine.” I grumbled flatly, standing up. I walked around my desk, brushed past Trixie, opened the door and walked out into the waiting room.

11-2-2012

So all my social media is a buzz with NaNoWriMo things.

Some good.

Some bad.

A lot of confusion and indifference.

Personally, I am a fan of National Novel Writing Month. It gives me a social community of like-minded individuals in my city. Most of these people I wouldn't have met without the NaNoWriMo meetups and stuff, so I can't complain about that. I also love NaNo because, well, it brings out the super competitive streak in me. I'm ALWAYS competing with other people, to get published, to get noticed, you know, the nature of writing. But NaNo brings out the competition in me even more, I see these word counts climbing and I want to get mine there, too. I want to have my word count meter thing way up there, over 10k, over 20k and so on. It's excellent visual motivation to see my friends and writing buddies climbing that ladder and I want to be there, too!

However, I also know that NaNoWriMo is not gonna produce a perfect piece of work right out of the gate. There's a lot of revising needed after the fact. Especially when you set a huge goal for yourself.

I'm an over achiever, I never settle for 50k words. I shoot for more, and I usually achieve what I aim for. So that motivation is an excellent thing.

I write every day, there's no denying that. I write and revise and work very hard to create stories with the intent of publication one day. I also write for Zombie Training Magazine. I find that NaNoWriMo is an additional excuse to write every day for a month. It makes it a habit to write daily, and that is what so many writers need -- motivation and the suggestion of a habit.

So yes, I am participating in NaNoWriMo. 2012 marks my 4th NaNo, and my first 2 Camp NaNo sessions.

I also finished a spec TV script during Script Frenzy but didn't validate it, and I have written a spec film script last month.

All of this stems from the habit of writing every day that NaNo instilled in me 4 years ago.

So, for those of you about to write? I salute you.

Love,
Kai

Kai Kiriyama lives in Calgary with her pet snake Rhaegar and her laptop.

You can find her on the NaNoWriMo forums under the name KaliYuga.

You can read Kai's Zombie articles at www.zombietraining.com

Kai's Twitter: @thekiriyamaheir
Kai's email: thekiriyamaheir@gmail.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorkaikiriyama
Tumblr: thekiriyamaheir.tumblr.com

Make Me Cry

It's funny, I have just spend the last 3 days marathon writing whilst sitting at my kitchen table in the most uncomfortable chair I have and what is the first thing that I do? I sit back the heck down and write a blog at the kitchen table in my godawfully uncomfortable chair. And then I'm gonna write something else. Why? Because it's all I know how to do.

Now that I have that out of the way, give me a moment, please, to express my elation one last time.

I completed Camp Nano session 1 last night. I crossed the 50,000 word finish line and I completed the novel that had been scratching away at my mind like a rodent for some time.

High fives and slurpees all around.

Yes, this is going to be another blog about the book that has been plaguing me for months. Deal with it.

I feel like I have had a great weight lifted from my body.

I have written 10 books to completion, one film script, three television scripts, several comic scripts and a multitude of short stories but never have I felt anything to rewarding as finishing this book.

This book has been an extension of my life since I came up with the idea just after November of last year. It has been slowly eating away at my brain for months and I finally sat down to write it.

I am very proud of this book. This book has been a difficult thing to write. I started out doing research for it by checking all sorts of gross medical stuff and learning about the doctor side of things. When I sat down to write, I realized that I didn't actually need all of that stuff, and the book really began to take on a life of it's own.

Finishing it now, I can tell you that it is the same story that I originally set out to tell, but it's not presented the same way that I had originally wanted. It sort of evolved as I sat down to write it, in a good way.

I've said it before, I am usually a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of writer. USUALLY. I'm perfectly happy to sit and plan a story and write down all my plot points and blah blah blah. This time I did a little bit of both and I am really happy with the way it turned out.

This book was extremely difficult for me to write. It deals entirely with my main character contracting an illness and suffering in the hospital. I'm not going to tell you much more than that.

When I set out to write it, it was told from the first person point of view of my main protagonist as she was getting treated in the hospital. As I wrote, I suddenly developed this character into more than what I had originally set out to do. And her relationships with people. Her parents suddenly became thse fully fleshed out characters, as did her doctor. I didn't originally set out to write it that way, but it just felt to be the natural progression of the story.

The scary thing I found, is that I got amazing attached to my character "Zero". As I was writing the final chapters, I found myself crying more than once. I had to stop and remove myself completely from the story before I could go on.

I really hope that my passion and that level of commitment to "Zero" shows and I hope that I can illicit the same response from my readers.

It's been a really emotionally draining month.

And now that it's done?

I couldn't be happier with it.

So now it's off being critiqued and beta read by my friends and I want all the feedback I can get.

I'm taking this one all the way.

But for now, I need a nap.

Kai Kiriyama is going to spend the next three days sleeping.
If you need to reach her, email her at thekiriyamaheir@gmail.com or find her on Twitter @thekiriyamaheir

More about the Battle of Camp Session 1

I am going insane. If I wasn't already insane, I'm at least a few steps closer.

This Camp NaNoWriMo book is going to be the death of me! Ha! Funny that I'm writing a book about a person in a hospital and I'm claiming that it's gonna kill me. Is that irony? Or just coincidence? Probably the latter. I think irony would be if I actually did die. And that would suck.

Okay, linguistic stuff aside, I'm really having a hell of a time with this thing! I just can't find my motivation to go on with it, to keep plugging away. I mean, I'm motivated, but the words don't wanna flow as nicely or as easily as usual. And it's frustrating me to no end.

But I think that I've figured out why it is that I'm struggling so hard.

In my area, when November rolls around and we all sit down to do the usual NaNoWriMo session, there are all sorts of wonderful plans and events made by our intrepid MLs, Xanateria and Naiya. We go have food and fun and hang out together and support each other and we do word wars and earn prizes and stuff. Plus, there's an online chat room for just us in Calgary. Plus, there's the NaNoWriMo forums open too.

There's just so much support!!

I find that Camp NaNo, while it's still technically in it's infancy, lacks that support. And it's not because of anything, aside from the fact that it's only the second year that they've run a Camp session.

And this isn't to say that there are literally no supports. One of the girls in Calgary has chosen to take on the responsibility of running a weekly meet-up. Unfortunately for me, this meet-up is on the other side of the city, in a restaurant. I don't like to sit in restaurants and not order anything, even if there's a group of people eating. Especially then. As it is, I can't afford to drive across the city every week and I certainly can't afford to eat out (because it wouldn't just be me, the boy-thing would be joining me.) And, as much as I love the group, I have a few issues I need to work out on a personal level, with some of the members of the group.

(I wonder if the other parties involved realize that I have a few issues with them?)

And the internet chat room for just us Calgary wrimos is still open, but I find that it's a lot more distracting than helpful. My iPhone is distracting enough! I have games and twitter on that thing, I don't need a chat room too.

But on the other hand, maybe I DO need that chat room? Maybe I DO need that little push and that support to complete my 50,000 word goal by the end of the month?

I'm going to finish this novel. That isn't the question and it's not up for debate.

The question is am I gonna make the 50,000 word goal by month-end?

I think that regardless of if you THINK you need it, having the supports of other people working towards the same goal as you and being able to talk it out and get the cheers and tears from your friends and peers, it really does make a big difference.

Would I change my experience this month? No. Do I think I miss the meet-ups and stuff that we have in November? Yes. But do I need that support all the time? In some ways, definitely. And I sincerely recommend building a bit of a circle of people who will support you in all of your writing endeavors because it does help.

And if you want it, email me or find me on twitter. I'll support you while you write!

Take her up on her inivitation!
Kai on Twitter: @thekiriyamaheir
Kai's email: thekiriyamaheir@gmail.com

Vote of Confidence

I'm struggling today. It's never a good feeling.

I feel like I've lost all motivation, all drive and all determination to write anything.

So I decide to blog, go figure.

I think that if I get my thoughts out of my head and into the aether of the Internet, maybe I will motivate myself somehow to get back into the swing of writing.

As my mom would say, "I have lost my na-na" (because na-na is the quicker way to say "je ne c'est quois" in an anglophone family of chronic insomniacs!)

I'm not gonna lie. Part of it has been brought on by myself. I have been taking on extra responsibilities. I've been slacking, I've been less than motivated to write anything. I have gotten in too deep within my character's psyche and have spiraled into a depression. I was depressed beforehand.  I let video games hold my interest longer than I should have. I've been really under the weather, struggling with my joints and migraines. All sorts of things have come between me and my project.

And yet I see all of these reasons and to me they are just excuses.

I take full responsibility for it, however. These excuses? They're all just excuses. I didn't HAVE to play video games for three hours. I could have written the 1,667 words every day, that's usually about 30 minutes of work for me. I could have sat down first thing in the morning, written my words, done my exercise and had breakfast before I got started on my other responsibilities for the day. But I didn't. And I fully accept that. I have brought this all upon myself.

This isn't to say that I'm stressing out about it at all.

On the contrary.

I choose to do the NaNoWriMo events as an exercise for myself, for my mind, for my creativity and for my discipline. It takes 30 days to make something a habit, and the goal of NaNo events are not only to write a 50,000 word novel in a month, but also to reinforce the idea that if you write a little bit every day, it will soon become a habit, and that habit ideally will stick with you throughout the year.

Anyway, I am so far behind to make up the 50,000 words. I'm still just over 13,000 and I have 10 days to make up the 37,000 words and finish my novel.

Am I going to do it? I don't currently know. I want to do it. And I am damn well going to TRY to do it. I have the utmost faith in myself and in my novel. I know that it'll be worth it when I'm finished. I just have to pull up my skirt, and put my writer pants on. It's usually easy for me to just go and write. But this is different. Still, I know that it's something that I have to do. Not just for myself... actually, yeah, it's mostly for myself. It's about my pride and my creativity.

I'm going to be selfish and greedy about it. It's about MY work. MY pride. MY creativity. MY motivation. MY future career. ME ME ME ME.

To Hell with the critics. To Hell with people wanting to edit/beta for me. To Hell with the subject matter. To Hell with it all.

This is about me. This is about the book I want to write, about the story I wanna tell. This is about finishing the story that I think is interesting, greedy and selfish as it may sound, I'm not writing for anyone else this time 'round.

Realistically though, is there anyone else that you should be writing for in the long run?

Thinking About Writing...

I'm currently in the middle of Camp NaNoWriMo session 1. If you're familiar with me, then you already know what NaNoWriMo is.

If you're not, let me sum it up: NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to produce a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. In November. It's a free program, you can find the info at the NaNoWriMo website.  

Camp NaNo is the same thing, just in June. Session 2 begins in August. You oughta try it. Really.

Usually, I will write a 50,000 word novel is about 8 days. Assuming I have allotted myself the time to do it, and have built a bit of an outline, it can take less time. I write a lot. I write fast. My average is normally 1400 words in 15 minutes. That's 5200 words in an hour. Not that I can actually write that much in an hour. After a bit, the words start to taper off and it becomes a matter of making the plot work. (My record for a day is 20,000 words in 8 hours of writing interrupted by the Internet, chats online and food.)

But this time is different.

I have allotted myself the same time to write this month as I have in November. I've stopped most of my other hobbies. I don't have 3 separate jobs. I'm not getting ready for a convention. There's no reason why I shouldn't be done the novel already.

However, I'm sitting at 12,000 words when I should be at at least 25,000 to be on track to finish on time.

I sit down at my computer and am unable to write. I stare at the words and they don't want to flow from my fingers like magic, like they usually do.

It's frustrating.

I'm not usually a planner. Usually, I have a vague idea and then I sit to write it and the words begin to flow. Usually I'm what we NaNo'ers call a 'pantser', one who flies by the seat of one's pants. Last year During November, however, I planned my works. I ended up writing over 150,000 words.

And this brings me to my point.

I wrote my first novel in 8 days or so. I have since gone back to reread and edit it. I love my story. It's unique, it's spunky, it's amazing, it blends genres you wouldn't expect to blend... And I hate it. There is nothing really salvageable about it! The entire thing needs a rewrite. A major, massive rewrite. And I'm pissed off about it!! Why did I write so many words last year? Because I was competing with someone else who ended up writing 300,000 words.

I pity that person. If my perfectly planned, plotted and outlined works suck that hard, I can't imagine what HERS must be like.  I'm pissed because I basically wasted an entire month. The story needs a complete rewrite. Why did I bother then? I have to rewrite it anyway, I might as well have taken my time.

I'm not gonna lie either, I'm suffering a little bit of self-doubt. I had a very bad experience with a critique group earlier in the year. I was kicked out because I had familial duties to attend to and my loyalty was to helping my mom and my sister -- who was sick at the time and looking at surgery -- one night instead of attending the critique group. I offered to email or to meet with them another night but I got a email telling me that I was unwelcome if my priorities were not to the group.

In retrospect, it's a damn good thing I was kicked out because my writing style is not what they want in their group. In retrospect, the critique group is essentially trying to make all their novels sound the same. And that's not the point. The point is to improve your skills, not to sound like everyone else.

Coming away from that now, I'm VERY comfortable with my writing style. I love the way my words sound. I love the way my story flows. My NaNo novel that needs to be rewritten? Yeah, it's partly because I was using it in the critique group and their standards significantly changed the way my story flows.

But I'm a little off my point right now. (Thank you for indulging me in that rant.)

The point is about the speed writing that I'm usually really good at, the need for rewrites and the flow of words.

If you remember about four months ago (maybe six? I can't remember anymore.) I wrote a blog about how to deal with a story that was emotionally draining to write etc. Well, that's what I'm writing now. I've completely started over. Not that there was much to start over from. Just a few sentences and an idea.

Now I'm writing this book and the words are less flowing than I usually like. But I think that's okay.

This story is gonna be 50,000 words. I don't think that I can draw it out any longer than that. It's written from the first person perspective and drawing it out any longer is going to make it become repetitive and boring. If it wasn't my intent to submit it later, I'd make it shorter and plug it as a novella. It might end up as a novella, not gonna lie. And I'll start a second book to get to the 50,000 word mark for Camp NaNo.

The point of this all is that I went back to read my 12,000 words of this story.

I love them.

Like, love love LOVE these words. They are amazing, well thought out, well put together words. Editing is going to be a breeze when it's done. I've never felt this way about a book. Everything just fell together so well thus far. I'm amazed. And impressed with myself.

Is it because of my slow and steady attitude? I dunno. Is it because this book is so hard and so emotionally draining to write? Maybe. I think that subconsciously I know that the less time I have to spend picking at this wound of a book I've created, the better it'll be for my mental health in the long run. So the words are flowing slowly but beautifully and eloquently.

I just hope that my editors and beta readers feel the same way!

-EDIT-

I hate editing. A lot. It is the absolute bane of my existence. I'm a sincere perfectionist and I subconsciously hold myself to unattainably high standards. I expect to be able to so things as close to perfect as I can the first time around. Usually, this means that I get things right the first time. Or the second try. rarely do I allow myself a third try (or anything beyond that, for that matter.)

Editing, to me, is like a second try. Which is what it's supposed to be, in a way. But I hate it. A lot. It makes me feel that I am not perfect (which I don't claim to be but it's still not a nice feeling to be saddled with.) Reading over my work and forcing myself to edit it feels like I am looking back on a part of me that I wish didn't exist. If I could write a perfect novel in one go I would write a lot more, I swear. But I can't. So I have to sift through the things that are not perfect. I have to look back at the sentences and paragraphs (and sometimes even entire chapters) that just don't fit. I have to look at the things that don't make sense, the imperfections, things that seemed like a good idea at the time but really weren't. The list goes on.

I hate the fact that there is such a long curve to perfection when it comes to writing. I know that the first draft of anything (especially if we're looking at something that was written during National Novel Writing Month aka NaNoWriMo) is gonna be sucky. And I do a lot of my best and most prolific writing during November. There's something about the support, about the frantic urgency that is writing a novel in a month, about the sense of camaraderie that comes from knowing there are thousands of other people writing frantically in the month with you that makes the creativity flow better for me.

And I know these things. So why is editing such a terror for me?

I think that looking back on my imperfections makes me uncomfortable. As it should. I know that I will never be perfect, and I know that my work will never technically be perfect. But it should be as close to perfect as possible, shouldn't it?

Editing is a chore. It isn't easy, and it shouldn't be. I should be challenge, like anything else. And I suppose that I am not quite ready to face that challenge.

I'm gonna go try to edit my 2011 NaNo novel. I kind of want to see it in print one day...

My Office, My Sanctuary

I just realized that today, December 20, 2011, is the first day I have been actively up in my office since National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) ended. NaNoWriMo is in November, and for those 30 days of amazing caffeine-fueled novel-writing insanity, I spent almost every day up here, sequestered away from the distractions of life and of non-novelist helpful things. Like my video games. And my books. And my fiancee.

It's funny now, because my office is really a fantastic corner of my house where I can do everything that I need to do on a regular basis. I have a desk. It's a really big desk, with a really comfy chair and a small footstool underneath. I have my extra monitor, I have a bookshelf full of reference books. I have my papers, my notebooks, my pens, my highlighters, my binders. I have a cork board covered in references and motivation, heck, it even says 'Keep Calm and Carry On' right on the cork. I have some cool things I have framed. I have a SpongeBob SquarePants calendar. My pet snake, Rhaegar lives in my office. There's a spare bed in here, made up with pillows and blankets and comfort. I have internet access. I have a smartphone. The bathroom is literally a few steps down the hall (so is my bedroom and the rest of my books, but that is another point altogether.)

There's so little reason for me to leave this room when I'm working. I ignore hunger and thirst when I get really into something. I know it's bad for me, but it happens. Actually, it happens a lot more than I should admit. Oh well.

Outside of my office is where all the bad things happen. Bills are waiting for me outside of my office. The need for food. Social interaction on a face-to-face level. (as opposed to Facebook or email or IM interaction.) Chores. Dishes. Phone calls. Household duties. Video games.

Distractions.

Okay, so there's distractions in here too. I have the Internet. (And the LOLcats, Reddit, Twitter, Facebook, Cracked.com etc.) And I have Minecraft. Oh how I am addicted to Minecraft. I have my iPhone with me almost all the time. (There's music on there...) There's a bed. There's Rhaegar.

But the distractions are different when I'm in my office. They don't seem as big. Things don't seem as bad when I'm in here. All the chores are pushed out of my mind. Financial trouble isn't at the foreground of my thoughts. Bills and chores and the need for me to make dinner, and therefore eat, aren't important. Sleep is... Well, it's secondary anyway, but here it seems less tempting.

My office is a quiet little corner all of my own. I can be who I want, do what I want, distract myself if I want...

It really is like the Weezer song In the Garage. I had never really thought about it like that until now, but my office is like that garage; I feel safe, no one cares what I do because no one is in here to judge me, I can write, I can sing, I can be me.

Not that there's really anything stopping me from doing that stuff outside of my office, but it's the safety and the privacy that really makes it special.

Long story short, I'm glad to be back in my office.

A commemorative poem.... Kind of.

The Last Day of NaNo

A parody poem by Kai Kiriyama

'Twas the last day of NaNo

And all through the house

Was a furious typing

And a neglected spouse.

The stories were wrought

With 'nary a care

Knowing that victory soon would be there.

The writers neglected the comforts of their beds,

While little plot bunnies danced through their heads.

With the goal in sight, and a promised night cap,

We'd write till the end, and then all take a nap.

When from across the room, there arose so much laughter,

I sprang from my laptop to see what was the matter.
Away from my story I ran in a dash,

I questioned the Wrimos, fearing a computer crash.

The faces of writers lit by computer's glow,

All spoke of insomnia, as all Wrimos know,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a new purple bar that had never been here,

With an impressive word count and a colour so slick,

I thought for a moment it must be a trick.

More rapid than word wars, the answers they came,

And the Wrimo explained not asking my name;

"Through word wars, and writer's block, and plot bunnies so!

Through insomnia, and distractions and inner editors we go!

To write in a month fifty thousand words is the goal!

Now write away! write away! write away all!"

As stunned as I was the speech made me want to cry,

The Wrimo had overcome this obstacle, it brought a tear to my eye,

So back to my novel with determination I flew,

Determined to earn myself the purple bar too.

And then, without warning, I heard in my head,

My own Inner Editor, filling me with dread.

So I shook my head, and tried not to drown,

As my Inner Editor spoke, a horrible sound.

He was filled with vile words, from his head to his foot,

And he tried to tarnish mywriting with his soot;

A bundle of doubts he was placing over my writing,

And his words were horrible, scathing and biting.

His eyes -- how they twinkled with malice, it was unnerving!

He sneered at my characters, said my work was undeserving!

His words poured forth from his mouth like bile,

And the temptation to delete my work was too vile;

The whole of my work, he held in his teeth,

And he tore it apart piece by piece;

'Twas a slap in the face and a punch in the belly,

And I felt all my insides turn right to jelly.

He said “no one wants to read about your trite little elf,”

And I almost deleted my work in spite of myself;

Then someone stood tall and broke through my dread,

And silenced the Inner Editor in my head;

He spoke not a word, but looked at my work,

And he checked my word count; then turned with a jerk,

And said “This Wrimo is almost to the end,

So let's cheer them on, let's prove we're all friends”;

He led the chant, as the group cheered and whistled,

And away the doubt flew, like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, as the end came in sight,

“Happy Writing to all, and to all a good night!”

Caffeine-free: What a Terrible Way to Be!

So yesterday was a day that saw me write 18,016 words before midnight. I started just after noon I think and I did take a few breaks in between pumping words out of my brain onto the pages but wow, what a feeling of accomplishment and insanity. My wrists REALLY hurt afterwards and the arrival of supper meant that I wasn't gonna write any more.

The scary thing is that I did it all with almost no caffeine.

You may not know this about me but I'm a caffeine addict. A fiend, even. I love me some coffee and I adore Coca-Cola, so it shouldn't really surprise anyone.

But I had only a single cup yesterday.

And look at what I accomplished. I felt awesome about myself, great about the work I was doing and amazed that I managed to keep my brain functioning for that long and at that level of coherency without my blessed nectar of life.

Today, I have no caffeine.

I have a headache. I'm cranky. I want to murder everything. And I can't make my fingers move quickly or coherently enough to produce more than a couple hundred words at a time. And I've been sitting here since 1 p.m. This is terrible. I feel terrible, I look terrible and I feel like my brains are going to explode out of my head and ooze out of my eyes at any given moment.

If you haven't guessed, the word of the day is 'terrible'.

I didn't realize how truly addicted to caffeine I was until I didn't have any. Then the yucky symptoms start. Irritability, headaches, fatigue. Blah blah blah.

I swear I'm never doing this again. I NEED caffeine to live. And to write. And to make the boring bits a lot easier to handle.

5 FAQs and What I think About Them

So it's the usual thing; you're doing an interview for some form of public advertisement or another and the same questions come up. I refer to them as the FAQs of Self-Promotion. These are the most common questions that I notice are asked or that I have been asked in various places. I'm not giving you my answers, but just an opinion of what I think about them. I'm really annoyed by most of these questions, I feel that they display a lack of interest in what I actually do and a lack of knowledge about what I'm all about. I warn you, I am making fun and being quite bitter. I also actually will answer these questions if asked, but please, don't open a conversation with me using any of these questions. I think we need some more creative FAQs, don't you?

1. "Where do you get your inspiration?"

"First, I have to read a lot of British political books and some Ancient Greek philosophy. Then I smoke a lot and drink like a fish to channel my inner Hunter S. Thompson. Then I have to deface a piece of public property and get into a fight with a stranger. Then I go to the pub for fish and chips and Guinness. Then I scribble notes on a dirty bar napkin in between rounds of karaoke. After that, I go home to sleep for three days. If I'm lucky, I'll have written something inspiring on that napkin. If not, the process has to be repeated until I do."

My immediate response to this question is usually 'My brain', but that answer can vary depending on how sarcastic I'm feeling or how genuine the person asking the question is being. If I get asked the question 'where do you come up with [your ideas]?' I'm usually less offended. I think that asking for inspiration is used mostly as an ice breaker and to gauge how in depth you're willing to go on your answers. I feel that a lot of journalism, especially in the current information age, is timid, afraid of offending or losing their exclusive when it comes to the types of questions asked. (I could be wrong about that considering how cutthroat the industry is.) I also understand that it's a common question and that everyone who is inspired by (you) me wants to know where ideas and inspiration come from. I just think it's a terrible way to start a conversation.


2. "Who are the biggest influences on your work?"


"H.P. Lovecraft and my psychiatrist. Dr. Yoko P.h.D. says that the drugs are really taking effect and that the voices in my head should subside any day now." 

Why would I openly admit to drawing influence from pop culture? I think there ought to be a time limit on who and where you're allowed to draw influences from. I hate this question SO MUCH, mostly because I never know how to answer it properly. I also rarely draw influences from pop culture, I prefer to steep my work in world mythology and religious theory, so I  guess my answer is God?


3. "You have been compared to [insert celebrity name here] how does this make you feel?"

"Inadequate."

Why should I compare myself to someone who has won multiple awards or, in the cases of the creator of sparkly vampires, written something that should be abolished? Having no awards under my belt and being compared to someone who I admire (or theoretically SHOULD admire) seems like a compliment but in reality it makes me feel like I am just a kid with no chance in hell. I mean, honestly, Stephen King was told that he should stop writing and that he'd never make it. I dunno if I'd be flattered to be compared to him. Besides, there's no guarantee that my books will sell a billion copies, even if I am called 'the next Robert Jordan' or something equally ridiculous.

4. "How old were you when you started [writing]?"

"Seeing as the public school system was pretty awesome when I was a kid... I'd say like 4." (And my first words were 'Mom' and 'Cat'.)

Oh wait, you mean professionally? Um... I dunno. It seemed like a natural progression in my life. (I was 13 when I decided I wanted to work towards getting published and I started writing screenplays, in case you were legitimately wondering.) It really isn't something that you kind of make a note of in your diary. Except I did. Because I was convinced that I could get published at 14, like that Paolini guy (That's his name right?) who wrote the Eldest series. Then I found out that he had an inside edge 'cause his parents owned a publishing company. *le sigh* I'm still working on it, and I'm still writing. Why does it matter when I started?

5. "What words of advice do you have for [people aspiring to be like you]?"

"Don't. No. Seriously. Don't. I'm a caffeine fiend, I'm an insomniac and I'm pretty stressed out all the time. I also have become a hermit and like to stay in my house in my pajamas for days at a time eating Cheetos and watching British comedy. Oh and I guess I write sometimes, but I don't remember that part much."

I don't really have any advice to start with. And then you add that this is for people who wanna be like me? There goes whatever small amounts of advice I had to give in the first place. And why would you ask me this question more than once? It's not like the advice is gonna change much. If I've answered this question in the past month or six, please don't ask me again. Or else I WILL give you a snarky answer.

*****

So that's about it. I'm cranky and sarcastic when it comes to FAQs, but then again, you knew that about me already didn't you?

Kai Kiriyama is currently driving herself mad by attempting to make up from a 200,000 word deficit in a persona competition she has going on during NaNoWriMo. As always, she is a geek at heart and up for a chat.

Email questions, comments, or shoutouts to: thekiriyamaheir@gmail.com

Follow Kai on Twitter: @thekiriyamaheir

Find Kai on Facebook under: Author: Kai Kiriyama

NaNo book 2: Excerpt

Invasion of Babseth

Prologue: Somewhere, Across the Sea...

The continent of Alenora boasted the most beautiful, elaborate landscape. It was a continent divided into cities and territories but each got along fairly well with the next. Alenora was home to the most advanced and civilized of all cities.

The Ten Cities, as they were known throughout the world, were the civilizations of Man. The cities stretched out from east to west in a snaking line. Here was where the non-magical race of Man made their homes, made their history and made their lives.

But there were other civilizations throughout the world. The Jewel and Ink Islands for starters. Distant shores across the Western Sea from Alenora that boasted their own cultures and their own people. The Western sea was also the barrier between Alenora and the so-called less civilized continent of Dallu. Dallu was a harbour for those who wished to escape the law. The home of pirates and prisoners, anyone caught breaking the law was sent to the smaller continent from all over the world. It was a worse hive of villainy than Tarun of the Ten Cities. It lay in the middle of the Western Sea, directly between Alenora and Khahana. It was in irregular shape for a continent, and legend had it that an army of dragons hailing from Alenora and an army of Sea serpents and Leviathans from Khahana once fought a terrible battle. The rapid cooling of the dragon fire and the heavy losses on both sides were what created the lush, tropical island in the center of the ocean. It was a perilous journey to get to Dallu, and only the bravest Captains dared to go there. It was the most common play place of the pirate factions.

The pirate factions were legendary in the Western Sea and beyond. Everyone knew that they existed and all of the seaport towns and cities feared the raiding parties of each faction. The Factions hailed from all four corners of the globe, each laying claim to their quadrant. The savage men from the North, clad in their furs and leather, the exotic men from the South, their skin bronze and their hair as black as oil, seen usually without their shirts on, clad in the skins of animals never seen above the equator. The Eastern pirates were silent killers, assassins of the sea, they fought with honour above all else. And then there were the Western pirates. They were the worst of all, pillaging and raiding more than the Northmen, killing anyone who got in their way. They were godless barbarians, outcasts from the Ten Cities who showed no mercy to their victims. The Western pirates had no leader. They were, in reality, several smaller factions who would band together under one flag when they needed to, but otherwise they were the most lawless of them all.

Infighting was common among the factions of the pirates. Disputes always arose over claims to territory. If a pirate from the South moved too far over the boundaries for the tastes of the Northmen, they would fight. If the Eastern pirates tried to break it up, or travelled too far past Dallu, someone would be there to stop them. The miniature Western factions always fought amongst themselves, claiming ships and bounties and people for their own ends, captains killed captains and no one claimed to lead them.

Finally, one industrious pirate by the name of Captain Lucius Mercy stepped forward. He was a charismatic man, six foot tall, beautiful pearly white teeth, long black flowing hair. He was the essence of beauty on the high seas. He watched the fighting from a distance. He never saw the need to engage in petty squabbles with the other pirates. He was his own man and if he chose not to fight or take sides, then he would certainly be there without question to pick up the scraps.

One day, Captain Mercy decided to call a Parley of all the pirates. He sent word to all the pirates to meet him in Dallu in Cutthroat Bay on the full moon of the fourth month. He waited patiently, amassing a feast of wines and foods from all over the globe and made sure that he had brought in enough slave women and whores to satisfy the needs of the horde of pirates that he was calling.

As the sun set, the final ships were docking and the Captains of every ship were assembled. Captain Mercy sat at a high table, overlooking the gathering group below him. There were pirates from all over the world amassing there, the ships in Cutthroat Bay ranged from the huge warships from the North, to the tiny little skiffs of the East and everything in between. The ships of the Northern faction were sturdy beasts made of thick oak with hellish depictions of snarling dogs and bears on their prows. The sides of the ships had slots where oars would be lowered for additional speed when the huge red and white sails weren't enough. They all sailed under the flag of captain Jeran Higg: a red flag with a snow white wolf in the center. The Ships from the South were narrow, built for trading not fighting. They were made of a golden kind of wood and they gleamed like bronze in the sunlight. The Southern pirates were led by Captain Kerne and they sailed under the black flag with the golden sun. The Eastern ships were black and small and quick, made for precision striking at their enemies. They all bore the heads of dragons on their prows, and Captain Tariq took a coiled dragon on a golden flag as his symbol. Comparably, the ships of the West were a mottled, mixed bunch. Everything from trading galleys to massive flagships meant for cargo and crew. No one sailed under a single flag unless they were a part of a fleet, but there were only two fleets in the entire Western Faction; one belonged to Captain Mercy and sailed under the symbol of his seahorse and the other were the broken hearts of Captain Valentine.

The pirates began to mingle, crews dining together under the rules of Parley and the Captains began to approach Captain Mercy's place of honour as serving women milled about, filling goblets and serving food as they saw fit. A pirate's feast was never without entertainment and some men had appetites for more than wine and meat and fruit. Captain Mercy had anticipated this and had made sure that there would be something for everyone. Cheers arose from amongst the crews as they supped together, helping themselves to whatever they wanted and setting aside grudges that would be brought to fresh light as soon as they were away from the island.

“Hey, Mercy!” The only female Captain called out. “How come you never bring any servant men for me? A woman has her needs too you know!”

A hearty laugh at Captain Mercy's expense rippled through the group of equals and Mercy jumped down from his place of self-proclaimed honour. There were only a few Captains in the factions who were worth talking to, most of them were lesser captains, members of the two Western fleet who served on one of the ships, or the Captains of smaller ships who would sail under one of the two fleet's flags if they were called for.

All but one of the assembled captains were men and Captain Mercy could name each one and the name of his ship, but they were all men. They were rowdy and bawdy and wouldn't know the lap of luxury had they been born into it. They were rough, ill mannered and unimpressive to Captain Mercy. They would remember the slight to Captain Mercy for ages, pointing out that the Captain didn't know how to please a woman. It was a scathing comment but Captain Mercy would endure. The Lady Captain had her own reputation, after all.

He ignored the other captains and their jest. Captain Mercy walked right up to the only woman captain and bowed, lifting her hand to his mouth to kiss it.

“Why Lady Chiara.” Captain Mercy said sensually. “I had thought that a woman of such unequalled beauty would only want the finest man on the seven seas.” He stood up with a twinkle in his clear blue eyes. “I've saved myself for you.”

His jest caused the Lady Captain to blush furiously and the other men laughed at her expense. It was a fierce rivalry known to all the pirate factions that went on between Captains Mercy and Valentine. No one knew better what a well-placed comment could do to ones reputation. The only lucky thing that stayed Valentine's cutlass was the fact that they were there under invitation by Captain Mercy and that they rules of Parley dictated that it be a violence-free evening.

Captain Mercy leaned in close to Chiara and whispered. “I say it in jest, but you know that you find me irresistible. I have only had eyes for you, Chiara, and I would do anything to make you mine.”

Chiara backed away from him and said nothing. She was nearly as tall as he was, but with hair the colour of summer wheat and unsettling amber eyes. Chiara Valentine was lithe and graceful, the rumours said that she had the blood of the Elves in her, but no one ever confirmed it, Chiara least of all. She was from the West, like Lucius, and had grown up as a captive on a ship. She eventually learned her way around a sword and a blunderbuss and overthrew the former Captain. She commanded the fastest ship in the West, aptly named The Lady's Tears.

The huge Northman, Jeran Higg stepped up beside the lady captain and offered her his arm. She took it hesitantly, she would do anything to avoid looking like a weak and helpless woman. The tall, strange Northman escorted her to a seat at the table of honour set half a step below Captain Mercy's high seat. He sat down next to her and the other captains and faction leaders followed suit. When everyone was seated, Captain Mercy took his seat once again. And the servants brought the captains there meals.

Food and wine was passed around and the Captains ate together, sharing stories of victory and defeat amongst themselves. When food was being cleared away and many of the pirates were beginning to get rowdy, Lucius Mercy smiled at Captain Valentine and clapped his hands, causing an instant silence amongst the chattering, laughing pirate horde before him. “My friends, my esteemed enemies.” He called out. “For too long we have fought amongst ourselves. For too long the bounties and splendours of the realm have been divided unfairly amongst us. We are poorer alone then we could be together. What I am proposing tonight is not for the faint of heart. No, what I am proposing is unheard of in all the history of our world.” Lucius cast his glimmering blue eyes over the assembled crowd, drinking in their silence, their anticipation.

“I am proposing that we unite, under one flag, under one name to take the greatest plunder that the entire world has to offer?”

“Really?” Captain Jeran Higg retorted. He was a burly man, the leader of the Northern faction, and his voice boomed and echoed across the open expanse of the island. “And what, pray tell, is your great plunder?”

Captain Mercy smiled his attractive, perfect smile and let the suspense build amongst the pirates for just long enough to make them truly curious.

“I propose that we take an entire city.”

The 11,111 challenge

So since today is 11-11-11, there was a challenge posted on the NaNoWriMo forums. It was literally to write 11,111 words to commemorate the binary date.

I'm nowhere near the goal. And I very likely won't make it before midnight.

On the plus side, I am nearly finished my first NaNoWriMo book for this year. Since it's so early, I am planning to write at least one other, maybe two, depending on how fast I can write.

I have been in competition with another Wrimo, another participant of NaNoWriMo. I am currently behind. But she is a robot, I'm sure of it. I'm having a very difficult time catching up to her, even though I'm only 21,000 words behind. I say only because it makes me feel better about my deficiencies.

I know that it is not about competing with another person, that the goal of NaNoWriMo is to force you to take those words and write them, but I feel like I need to validate myself by comparing myself to this other person. Besides, I have a lot of free time on my hands right now. What else am I gonna do? Ha ha!

So I probably won't beat the 11-11-11 challenge, which is a shame because I am letting myself down. However, I did actually finish that first book, so that's something to be proud of right?

Love,
Kai Kiriyama

NaNo Blog 2: Overachiever

Well, this is a first.

I have finished my 50 k NaNoWriMo goal in 7 days. Usually I'm way behind or just towing the line and sticking around the average word count to keep afloat and to make it to the 50k mark by the end of the month. My chart stagnates and spikes, but I usually have a major comeback from behind at the end of the month.

So today I finished the 50k goal.

My wrists really hurt and I really wanna go to sleep but at the same time I'm really buzzed. My novel isn't done but I have reached the 50k. I'm really excited because I still have a lot to write about and a lot to say in the story and I am still loving it. I love my characters, I love my plot, I love the story.

But I'm rambling.

The point is that it is attainable. I feel kind of bad now for reaching the 50k mark so quickly (I am in a personal war with several other NaNo participants, so I have set my sights rather high.) when I am usually one of the ones behind in my word count. I really do hope that I can inspire, however. And be there to help and to cheer on others who are having trouble crossing that 50,000 word finish line.

So here's to me and my current achievement and here's an even bigger one to you, no matter where you are in your NaNoWriMo journey. You can do it and I am here for you in whatever supporting role I can provide.

Let's finish the month together and let's go out with a bang!

All my love,
Kai Kiriyama