Day 24: Ch 1: Finally Finished!

For a grand total of 10,584 words.  In one chapter.  I have six days to make up the difference if I’m going pull this off.  We shall see.  I’m hoping having finally put the first chapter to bed, I’ll be reinvigorated working on the rest of the story.  I’ll need to write an average of 6,570 words a day to make the 50K mark, which is possible.  Likely?  Meh.  I’ve made my peace with not winning.

But, most importantly, I have stuck to my goal of writing something on the story every day, even when I put it off till the end of the night & I just wanted to go to bed.  Even when I was stuffed with turkey & just want to go to bed.  Even if I just wrote 35 words one day; I still wrote something.  To me that’s more important than the numbers.  If nothing else I was consistent.  That is not a word usually attributed to me, so I’ll take it :)

Chapter 1 will require a great deal of fine tuning before it’s ready to publish, since it’s a first draft & I did some jumping around in my writing.  I wrote the end before the middle, so it doesn’t fit anymore.  I’ll get it worked out before it goes up.  I have set up an account at FanFiction.net for it.  Here it is as it will be till the rest of it is complete & it is ready for the printed page & a hundred lashes with a red ink pen.

Since it’s over 10K words long, I shall hide it behind a cut & will not quote format it. Continue reading

Over the 10K Hump

I’m too lazy & tired to do the math atm, but I hit 10,203 words tonight/this morning. I will be finishing the first chapter later today & I’ll just post the whole chapter then rather than pulling out the latest words now. Again it’s a too lazy & tired thing.

Can’t believe I’m over 10K words & still on the first chapter.

I’m feeling hopeful I still have a chance to win this thing!

Day 18: 234

“Why not, Redman? Where else am I going to go? Nothing but Hell waiting for me on the other side after the life I led. Why would I be in a rush for that place?” The weight in Nick the Pig’s voice reminded me of the ghost of Jacob Marley rattling his chains for Scrooge to see what the punishment for his mortal life had been. Nick the Pig’s voice rattled the air and sent a chill up my spine. What had this man done? He had called himself a killer earlier. Was he a wild west outlaw? Something more recently? Had he killed people in this house? Is that why he haunted here? Or maybe this was his hideout? The way he talked to Johnny smacked of black and white westerns on the weekend movie classics. Not that I ever watch those. Very often.

As if reading my mind, Johnny threw out his next question. “What did you do that was so bad you believe you would go to Hell if you left this house?”

“I TOLD YOU I WAS A KILLER!” Nick the Pig rushed the circle again, yelling with enough force to crash the cameras that were still standing.

Day 17: 309

Another meh day, but I finished my writing desk & chair today, so maybe that will help?  (Probably not as much as I’d hoped since I’m in the chair now & it isn’t nearly as comfortable as I’d imagined it would be.  bummer.)

Following the sound of a sigh somewhere between giving up and playing for time, we heard a chilly voice spit out “Nick the Pig”. It was so clear, it could have been any of us saying it, had any of us been invisible and standing a few feet away; or ventriloquists.

“So you’re Nick the Pig?” Johnny asked the voice, and then, almost as if to antagonize him, Johnny added, “So you’re a pig ghost? I thought I was dealing with a man spirit.”

The air around us felt like a roar, as the voice moved closer to the circle again and seethed, “I am not a pig. I’m a killer. My name was Nicholas Swinton, and people called me Nick the Swine because of how it looked and because of all the dirty stuff I did; especially because of all the dirty stuff I did.” His voice dropped low and slow with the last part. As the only woman in the room, I felt that if he had eyes they would have been cheaply lingering over my body parts. He sounded some kind of proud of whatever awful things he had done to earn his nickname, and definitely like he was trying to shock or scare us.

“The ended up calling me Nick the Pig though, ‘cause it just sounded better, I guess. Nobody talks much about swine, it’s always pigs.

“Is that the answer you were looking for injun? I was a filthy, murdering pig named Nicholas Swinton. Got any more questions for me to answer, Chief?”

Johnny maintained his cool in the face of Nick the Pig’s baiting remarks. He rolled his shoulders and his neck around, then looked straight ahead and asked the voice, Nick, why he remained in this house and why he was attacking the family and the team who was here tonight.

Days 15 & 16: 432

I only wrote a single sentence yesterday. As sad as that is, the fact that sentence contained 35 words somehow makes me little more sad. But that means I wrote nearly 400 words today (you may have noticed I use the term ‘today’ loosely).   So my tomorrow of digging in my heels & getting my word count on track hasn’t come yet.  That’s okay.  I have scheduled in a few 30min writing breaks tomorrow throughout the day.  Hopefully I’ll do better with the small scheduled breaks than trying to sit down & do it all in one fell swoop.  Probably being able to stay off Pinterest, or keep from cruising the net looking for ideas, would help.

Regaining our composure, we got our digital voice recorders back out, along with the usual handheld meters, and getting ready for what would be the most intense question and answer session we have ever done.

Johnny cleared his throat and began to speak clearly and boldly, as though (like?) his tone alone could command the spirit to give him the honest answers he was seeking.

“Spirit inhabiting this space, what is your name?” The response to his question was nothing but a tense, icy silence. The waiting left time for me to begin wishing I had brought a jacket. The temperature in this room had been dropping by degrees all night, yet before we launched in here for a night of exorcise I never thought to grab my jacket out of the van. Well, dear readers, at least we can say I have never claimed to be brilliant. But back to the story.

“I asked for your name. Tell me your name, spirit!” Johnny’s voice became more defiant as he pluckily ordered the spirit to comply. As he spoke he had stepped closer to the boundary of his circle. For that he was rewarded with a jarring whoosh! that landing just inches from the end of this nose. We all took a step back, but Johny barely blinked. The man has nerves of steel. My confidence in his abilities skyrocketed and I knew we had made a very fortuitous find with Johnny Crowe. He may not have gotten Johnny, but seeing the rest of us jump must have amused the ghost because we could hear that awful laughter again. Then I could feel the cold breath of an unseen presence just off my shoulder to the right behind me, and that sick smell of body odor, sulfur, and rotting meat was back. I felt the sickness rise in my stomach, and moved back towards the center. Even being in the circle, I could practically feel his hands on me. I wanted to be as far from his presence as possible.

Johnny pulled a voodoo doll looking item from his vest. It looked like a colorful spaceman in a bear suit. That’s the best way I know how to describe it. I learned later it’s a fetish, or a kachina in some cultures. His represents the great bear spirit, the most powerful of the animal spirits. He waved held the doll in front of him, “TELL ME YOUR NAME.” For a man hold a doll and yelling at a ghost, Johnny Crowe sounding like he meant business. I almost told him my name.

Day 14: 762

Another late start, so no 3000 words, but I wrote again tonight. That’s two straight weeks of daily writing. I don’t know when, or if, that’s ever happened. Probably in school, but that doesn’t count.

At this point I need to write 2,661 words a day to finish this month.  My current daily word average is 495 & NaNo estimates at that rate I’ll finish by Feb 8, 2012.  Oy.

Inside the room, Johnny resumed his chants while drawing a circle and a few ancient looking symbols on the floor with the salt. He then began misting the air with the holy water and seemed to be saying some prayers to the sky. While he did this we busied ourselves with setting the cameras back up. The beings attention must have been all on Johnny, because we had an uneventful time of it. Nothing happened to Johnny while we were busy with the cameras, but the tension in the air rose to an almost suffocating level.

When he was done, Johnny asked us all to get inside the circle with him. At this point he pulled out a ceremonial dagger and began to bless the circle and close it. This must have been the line in the sand for whatever had been watching because he began to act out and show Johnny some of what we had already been privy to.

As Johnny prayed a sense of calm entered the circle, but if we stood near the edge of the circle it was like you could feel whatever was out there lurking just outside the edge, as if he was waiting for one of us to step outside the boundary. Soon we could feel a rushing at the perimeter. I can’t begin to describe it, because it’s not like there was anything to see or hear or feel, but it was a definite sense of something trying to its damnedest to get inside the circle to us. The air outside the salt line felt heavy with frustration. I tried to keep my focus on Johnny and keep all of me inside the circle. To this end, I moved closer to the middle to avoid an accident.

As Johnny seemed to be winding down his incantation, one of the cameras crashed to the ground. I heard both Kyle and Trevor moan simultaneously as it thudded against the thankfully carpeted floor. I have a feeling we’ll be replacing at least one of those after last night. We watched in awe as the camera began to slide across the floor towards our protective barrier. It reached a point and stopped, but not entirely motionless. It seemed as though someone was trying to get it into the circle but couldn’t. Suddenly, it was flung in the air at us, but fell just outside the circle. I don’t know what kind of spell Johnny cast on this circle, or who he was praying to, but he did a hell of a job. This circle was locked up tighter than a drum, and felt safer than anywhere in the whole house. I began to feel a sense of hope, when the camera suddenly flipped around in the floor and began nudging close to the circle again.

It made it to the edge of the salt barrier, and then began pushing through the form, breaking the line. Johnny seemed to become worried at this, & began pushing back against the camera with his foot. He struggled against the being behind the camera for a minute, until the camera seemed to go slack and Johnny found his foot pushing against a force no longer there and his foot went outside the boundary. With the kind of speed that only comes with anticipation, Johnny’s leg was snatched out the safety of the circle, with the rest of him being drug behind it. He was clawing at hte carpet and yelling at us to help pull him back into the circle. Trevor and I were closest, so we each grabbed an arm and began pulling him back within bounds. It was a high stakes game of Tug-of-War, and I can’t say we were winning, but thankfully Kyle and Andy found their own spots and helped us get him back with us inside the safety zone. When that was done, we all stayed closer to the center.

We heard maniacal laughter, followed by the camera seemingly kicked back against a wall. Johnny used his dagger to reinforce circle, and he added some symbols near that spot on the edge. When he seemed to feel secure again, he told us it was time to start asking some questions. We had our walkie-talkies at the ready, so we could feel Gemmie information to research as we went along. Not only did we need to verify anything the ghost told us, but we needed to supplement what did learn with more to help us move him on from this house, whether willingly or not.

Day 13: 525

I learned to do html page jumps tonight. Woo! I feel special:)

Other than that today I did laundry & learned to fold an origami necktie. I also did a lot of pinning as I am now very taken with Pinterest. Another day of not much writing:)

But tomorrow…

Today got me caught up to Johnny Crowe’s entrance.  Which is tricky because it means I am now in the big drama zone of needing to write the show down between him and the spirit of Nick the Pig.  I didn’t get far tonight, but I at least got it started.  Oh, & I feel like I need a disclaimer for this: I have done internet searches to get information on the Washoe tribe, and Native Americans in general, as far as putting together Johnny’s exorcism.  I have combined what little I found with my own knowledge of such things & used my imagination to fill in the rest.  Probably an obvious point, but like I said I just wanted to be clear & not having someone come across this & think this has more than the slightest basis in actual tribal culture/history/spirituality.

In the basement, before entering the room, Johnny took off his shirt, marked himself with the holy water, and put his vest back on. He took some paints from his bag and began painting his face. He smeared green under his eyes, for night vision, and made black and white stripes along his arms to signify life and peace. On his chest left exposed under the vest he drew three symbols: a yellow symbol for the underworld, a red symbol for strength, and a green symbol for vision. The green one resembled an eye, but that’s the best of the three I can describe. How is “kinda swirly and swoopy” for a description? There were some lines too, but that’s about as well as I can tell you. He did not want any pictures made of him out of respect for the ceremony he was undertaking as well as the ancient belief of cameras stealing a part of your spirit (no, he doesn’t really belief this to be true, but you have to bow to the powers that be if you expect to be asking for their help). He was going to need all his spirit to fight the guy in the room. He then began burning a wand of dried herbs, primarily sage, and wafting the smoke over him while chanting some words in Washoe. Following the code of respecting his process, I did not bother him to ask what he was saying, and after the night’s events I honestly didn’t think about again until writing this.

When all of this was done he announced he was ready and approached the door chanting and wafting the same smoke around the door. He swiped the top of the door with holy water, then created a barrier across the bottom portal with blessed salt and some herbs. He turned to each of us next. He repeated a similar process with us as he did himself, marking us with holy water, give us green swatches under our eyes with black and white stripes on our faces, then chanting and blowing the sage smoke over us one by one. He then announced we were ready, and said a final blessing over the door before opening it.

The room was still at least ten degrees cooler than the rest of the basement, but it had an eerie calm over it that unsettled me after all of the activity we had seen earlier. Not only did it feel anti-climatic after all the preparation that had gone into this exorcism, but I was worried what ever had been in here was gone now and we had just wasted Johnny’s time. As my foolish worrying grew into nervous lip chewing, I should have known we had nothing to worry about with this entity. I guess he was just lying low and getting a feel for the new guy and what he was bringing to the table. We brought cameras and questions. Johnny was packing old magic and the self-assurance that comes with knowing you are going to win this battle.

It did not take long for the invisible man to express his displeasure.

 


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Day 12: 143

Slow day, possibly my lowest daily word count so far this year.  But I wrote something.  But I’m going to kick it in gear.  I spent a lot of today organizing & planning my holiday crafting & gift giving.  I did it in Scrivener, & realized I have to win NaNo so I can get the 50% discount off the full version in December!  It’s only $40 which is a good price, but if I apply myself I can get it for $20 & I love few things better than a 50% discount on something that is already cheap:D  I’m going to need that $20 for holiday crafting supplies & car repair.

My paragraph for today:

Over the course of the next hour we had a late dinner and chit-chatted about nothing in particular. A lot of rehashing road rage, but that’s to be expected when you spend two weeks traveling cross country in a van with four other people. Hotel times make it especially rough. We do our work at night, but the hotels want you up and out bright and early. So you can imagine the droopy drawers in our team full of cranky, cramped curmudgeons who haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in about a week and a half. Things were not looking up tonight either with this one looking like an all nighter. I don’t know how Gemmie stays awake watching monitors all night, but I sure am glad she does it. I would be drooling over a keyboard within an hour I’m sure.

 

Day 11: 397

So, not the day I had hoped for, but I churned a few hundred more words & crossed the 6K mark tonight.  woo hoo!

We knew a few people in the area, but the trick would be finding someone still awake.  Fortunately this field attracts a lot of night owls, so we were pretty sure we’d find somebody still up.  We started with Maynard, aka KrebsOG.  He was a long time friend from the blog (SHOUT OUT!) and a bonafide skeptic, but he’s in the area and does keep tabs on what’s going on.  Plus, if anyone is going to know who the real deal is in Nevada, it will be Maynard.  Bingo!  He was awake and had a short list of people to contact.  Out of those people we caught one available: Johnny Crowe.

Johnny Crowe is a shaman from the Washoe Tribe around Carson City.  He has done a lot of studying in spirits and other worlds, and has incorporated aspects of other traditions in his work.  We have worked with several different spiritual types to cleanse homes and other haunted places, but this would be our first time with this particular style/tribe/belief/ first time working with a Native American shaman.  I was excited to see what his methods would involve.

Despite most people in our area have some degree of indigenous ancestory, I’m an outsider and don’t know of a single drop in my lines.  Andy’s mother is Dutch and Cherokee though, but he admits he never embraced his heritage much.  His dad is black from Barbados, and he says he always identified as black since his neighborhood in Atlanta was mostly black.  His mother had been raised in the Netherlands with her father’s family, so she had little involvement with her mother’s culture, and similar to Andy himself never took to much of what her mother tried to instill in her because she was too busy trying to just be like her friends.

So Johnny Crowe it was, and he would be here in an hour.  We decided to run through the other areas of the house and the grounds again, then take a break while we waited on him.  Ghost hunting is a good way to work up an appetite, but pretty much anything is a good way for me to work up an appetite.  My mom always said I ate like a teenage boy.  I guess it’s a good thing I’m tall or everything I eat would have nowhere to go but out.

 

Toot Toot! Revisiting NaNo 2010

I was given a sliver of hope tonight I might find the lost 369 words from the first week of NaNo.  It was not to be; but what I did find was the beginning of my novel from last year.  It only made it to around 5K words, but considering it was also my novel from the first year I signed up for NaNo & it got 0 words that year, we’re making progress.

When I read those words I was impressed.  I thought I was reading a writing sample that had been hidden in the Write-or-Die files.  I had just found a bunch of image files in a WoD folder named My Stationery, so anything was possible at this point.  Did you know WoD has stationery?  I didn’t & I’ve had the desktop version for two years. shrug  The point I’m trying to make here is it was good.  Really good, like great even.  I was really impressed.  My chest swelled when I realized those were my words.  toot toot

I don’t think I ever posted anything from that novel here, since it is original work and intended for publication.  But since I am tooting, I shall share with you the first paragraph.  It is still a rough draft, but I am very pleased with it:) (<<I can’t just brag on myself & let it go, can I?)

Looking to the right of those implements of destruction, she nursed tears staring at the freshly pressed resumes, neatly stacked next to the scattered few rejection letters she had received.  She knew those few were just a drop in the bucket compared to the rejection that had been passed without formal notification.  She had been looking for another job for months, but it just didn’t seem like a good time to be making a change.  But she needed that change.  She had been at her current job for far too long and it had drained her dry.  Beyond dry.  If spiritual drain, the kind that invaded your whole life, your mind, had a physical component, she would look like one of those preserved corpses they find buried in the deserts on popular crime shows.  Maybe it would be easier if it did.  If there was a physical sign of what was going on inside her she might qualify for some time off or worker’s comp.  This was afterall a work related injury.  But they don’t pay out over mental exhaustion or “my job made me crazy”.