I was going along swimmingly in the SF project. I put my protags in an ordinary world they did not particularly like. I had one try to leave on her own only to get caught and her hand slapped. I put another in a pond skinny dipping with the farmer’s daughter.
Then I brought down a hoard of human-looking aliens on them. The hoard, or rather their overlords, clearly read War of the Worlds, shooting their troops to the surface in cylinders, but instead of ten-story tripods, they come roaring out in what look like dune buggies. I dropped an atomic bomb on one set of characters and sent them scurrying through a pitch-black subway tunnel. The others, the runaway and the farmer’s daughter, ran away to a mountain cabin, hoping to wait out the invasion. All is well, though, when the local militia picks up our friends and take them to a remote mountain town that’s been left pretty much unscathed for now.
And that’s where I stopped. All I knew for the past two months was how to get them to the mountain town. I didn’t figure out what happens next. I know how it ends. But I really did not plan all that middle part very well. So I stopped after a couple of false starts on the most recent chapter. It was turning into a day-by-day, hour-by-hour tale, and that could grow to 900 pages of single-spaced type really fast. Time to stop and outline the roses.
In the meantime, my Dick (as in Dick Bachman to my Steve King) has been building his social media and web platform. There’s nothing there yet, other than a eye-bleeding temporary web page, an empty Twitter feed, and empty FB and Pinterest pages.
But while outlining, I’ve hit on some supplemental material I can write for the run up to publication. It even spawned a conspiracy angle in the background. One story will go up on the new web site for free. The rest? Premium content. What does that mean?
I’ll have Dick tell you when it’s ready.
Photo lovingly pilfrered from the movie Spaceballs.