Yep.

This one's a no-breaking-allowed rule. 500 words every single day for the next "forever until I've finished the first draft". That's massive. Can you imagine? A 90,000 word novel every six months!

I'd been mulling the idea over in my head for a while, but it wasn't until this morning (about 3:00) that I spontaneously wrote out these plans for possible ways to tackle it.
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The first one was very simple.

Holidays Plan
- No internet until 500 words.
- 500 words -> First thing in the morning.

The second, for when school was in, was relatively complex.

Extreme School-Time Plan

Night  [ 9:30pm: Mini-outline for morning.
before [ 10:00pm: Sleep.
- 6:40am: Wake up -> Load up laptop -> Coffee
- 6:50am: Write or Die, 300 words -> 5min break
- 7:25am: Write or Die, 200 words
- 7:45am: Prepare for school
- 4:00pm:
Editing morning's work
Homework
Leisure/Other

- 9:30pm: Mini-outline for morning.
- 10:00pm: Sleep.

Fridays and Saturdays are free-rein.

[I made a note reminding myself that I was thereby sacrificing "late TV shows".]

The alternative came to me a sleepless hour later.

Not-So-Extreme School-Time Plan [Note to self: Very easy to adapt to.]

- Home from school: NO INTERNET until 500 words done.
- 4:00pm: 300 words Write or Die -> 10min break
- 4:40pm: 200 words Write or Die
- 5:00pm onwards:
Homework
Editing
Chores
Rehearsals
Leisure
etc.

Weekends: NO INTERNET until 500 words done. Writing first thing before leisure.

Note to self: No sacrifice, plenty of leisure and homework time.
Note to self: 15,000 words per month = 90,000 words every 6 months.
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So you can probably guess that, at this point, I've chosen the second option.

As far as the holidays go, last night I wrote 600 words. Today I plan to write 1,000. We'll see how this goes. If I can make a daily routine out of this...

...then I believe I will deserve at least three pats on the back.

Terms
Possessive: When the subject owns something
Plural: Multiple of anything.
Possessive plural: When there are multiple things that own something
Contraction: When letters are cut out and two words are mashed together.

Examples
Possessive:
If the dog has a ball [ownership]:
It is the dog's ball.

Contraction:
It is really hot today:
It's really hot today.

Plural:
If the dog is playing with another one:
There are two dogs.

Possessive plural:
If the two babies both have dummies:
They are the babies' dummies.

If a toy belongs to both of the babies:
It is the babies' toy.

Tricksters
It's/Its
I find the best way to work out whether to use it's or its is to check whether it is a contraction [mashed together] or possessive [ownership].

- You only ever use it's if it is a contraction. Remember that, and you're set for life. If you can remember this, you don't even have to remember the following rule.
- You only ever use its if it is possessive.

It's very hot today.
The dog chases its ball.

On Names Ending in "S"
It is grammatically acceptable to demonstrate possession with a name ending in "S" by either placing an ['s] on the end, or simply placing an apostrophe after the "S".

eg.
James's ship.
James' ship.

Short Rant On Names Ending in "S"
I passionately support the first option (full name, ['s]). Why? Because in the first option, the name is treated like all other names.
The reason I detest the second option is that the name is then treated like a possessive plural. And it's not. There is only one James.

Three Bridges will be quite the odd one out in the Válkia Chronicles. For starters, it doesn't have the title trend that the others in the series do (Taemus Aura, Kathes Aura).  Secondly, it is planned to be a multiple POV story, with four different main characters.

Main Characters

- The King.

- A boy whose parents died and now works as a thief in the Underground.

- A high-ranking man in the Underground. He started out like the boy; orphaned and a thief in the Underground. He now works as a spy for the Thief-King.

- A boy in a nomadic cult which worships different gods than those present in the story. At first those in the cult will assume that the boy's Aura that he recieves is from one of their own gods, but they eventually figure out that this is false and the boy is exiled from he group.

Plots

All four characters have individual plots that should be worked on separately and independently to make sure they each have elements that make a good story:
- Rise and fall in tension
- Strong conflicts
- Good climaxes

Once all elements are intact, the stories will be chopped up and mashed together in the best way possible. I have yet to decide whether the timeline should be continuous, or whether it should, for lack of a better phrase, recount the same two hours four times from different perspectives.

At times these characters' paths will cross, whether they know it or not.

The King and both boys will recieve Auras at some point in their journeys; the Thief-King will already have one.

By the end, all four main characters will have come together, in some sense, to fight against the invading enemy, both leading and alongside the Duthonian army.

The Válkia Chronicles

Current planned novels:
- Aundes Aura
- Three Bridges

Further possible novels:
- Maechre Aura
- Endures Aura
- Elcalades Aura
- Kathes Aura
- Taemus Aura
- Careus Aura

These stories would tell of characters who had to deal with Auras in their lives, and would be set before the events of Aundes Aura.

Known characters from Aundes Aura could be re-used in these, such as Faine in Endures Aura, the Thief-King in Elcalades Aura, and Echo in Taemus Aura.

Plans are that the characters across the novels would come from different cultures, lands and times across the Válkian history. For example, in Kathes Aura the main character might be from a druidesque clan in "pre-independence" history. In Careus Aura the main character could travel to Válkia from overseas. Perhaps that continent from which he came could be the base for another Chronicles series.

I don't know. All I know is that the idea excites me immensely, and whether it's possible or not, I've made a strong start.

I have spent the last few days with A Profound Sense of Melancholy hanging over me. I have passed the years immersed in my schooling and in my own personal aspirations. Now I open my "early years" photo album and flick through, paying attention to none in particular. But for one photo.

Just one.

The one with the baby-blonde hair, one knee knelt in the grass. Behind is an expanse of short-cut grass, and then a backdrop of dense trees filling up the picture.

I've just looked up from playing in the grass, with the most innocent smile you've ever seen. One of pure happiness.

Nothing else in the world matters. I'm happy here just playing in the grass.

I have no words to describe the sense of happiness this photo gives me, but even more so the melancholy along with it.

Suddenly I'm seventeen. How the hell did this happen? Time is passing too quickly. How will I be ready for University in a year's time?

The past few days, as I've gone about my daily things, no matter what, the image of innocence comes to my mind, and I can't shake it. And when it does, I can't help but feel this Profound Sense of Melancholy. I feel like my freedom is gone from me. School, home, homework, school, home, homework, school, home, homework, again, again, again. I've been at this for twelve years now.

Is it too much to ask for someone to invent a time-machine? Why can't we travel back to when nothing mattered?

Why does seeing pure, innocent happiness make my eyes water? Yet I continue to gaze at the photo.

And I don't know why I can't shake this Profound Sense of Melancholy.

I've been honing my skill in this area, and I think it's about time I gave some light to my experiences.

First I'm going to talk about the general pacing of a novel.

In this, my second incarnation of Aundes Aura, I have unwittingly developed a structure that ensures good modulation in the pacing. Put simply, when the characters are in a town, the main plot usually develops a bit further, and when the characters are between towns, their personalities and individual feelings and backstories grow. As a result, we get to understand the story from many different points of view, without ever leaving the main character.

So generally, over the course of the novel, the pacing modulates from chapter to chapter, or from one half of a chapter to the next. Say Chapter One is particularly fast-paced. You don't want it to be too fast, because you also want to introduce the characters a little, but the idea here is to kick of the plot at the inciting incident, which is the point which puts the whole plot in motion.

This inciting incident is as simple as "this is why the plot occurs". Remember that, and you'll be one step closer to a gripping beginning. The hardest part in the first page is balancing character development and quickly setting up the inciting incident.

In my first page, I jump into the inciting incident in the first few paragraphs, and this is okay because while it is all happening, we discover a little about the characters. It's perhaps better, though, to spend at least two or three pargraphs introducing the characters so the reader has some sense of them and will care more about their plight.

Just remember that an agent or publisher can base their choice on the first page, so you'll want to get stuck in as soon as you reasonably can.

One thing I originally did was start too early in the story. As in, negative plot, seven years before the real beginning of the story. I put this as a prologue, and it's actually still there just for my purposes, and most likely won't be there when I send it out to some agents.

Okay, my "arrangements" are pretty non-sensical at the moment, but the idea is that by the time I reach eighty-thousand words, I'll have enough words to arrange a full-sized, relatively sensical paragraph.
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~ Twelve Thousand ~

The Word: in

The Paragraph: The three sprinted through the streets. Eoin kept alert the whole time, the possibility of danger around every corner. He had thought it was all over, that it had ended with their completion of the prayer at the Grand Church. He was trapped "in" a never-ending nightmare. Last time the reverend had interrupted Saera’s prayer. This time the gods had no excuse to impose such danger on them. Had he and Saera not shown their devotion? Elcalades the Giving, father of gods. Eoin had always thought the title to imply the god’s generosity. He didn’t know he played favourites.
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~ Thirteen Thousand ~

The Word: last

The Paragraph: Opening the stable gate, Faine said, “The others chasing us will think the guards have caught us. We should have enough time to escape the city and put ourselves a fair distance from it.” He climbed onto his horse, and Eoin and Saera climbed onto theirs. Like "last" time, Eoin sat in front and took the reins, while Saera hugged his stomach firmly.
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~ Fourteen Thousand ~

The Word: sun

The Paragraph: The sun dropped below the horizon as they cooked what stale bread they had left over the fire.
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~ Fifteen Thousand ~

The Word: happened

The Paragraph: “What "happened"?” said Eoin.
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~ Sixteen Thousand ~

The Word: from

The Paragraph: “Seven years,” said Saera. “It’s shown up "from" time to time, but never like this. It’s never been so intense. I just don’t understand why.”
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~ Seventeen Thousand ~

The Word: past

The Paragraph: The trees now behind them, Eoin, Saera and Faine rode "past" a sign welcoming them to the village.
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~ Eighteen Thousand ~

The Word: there

The Paragraph: Faine leaned closer. “Further up the mountain there’s a cave. If you go to the very end of it, you’ll find a hole big enough to crawl through. From "there", a massive tunnel leads straight through the mountain. That is our path.”
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~ Nineteen Thousand ~

The Word: his

The Paragraph: Eoin shrugged and pulled his gloves off, shoving them in "his" pocket. He stepped into Faine’s hand, and as he was lifted he put his hands on the wall to keep his balance. The stone was as cold as ice. He put his arm up and felt for a good grip somewhere on the top, and then pulled himself up so his stomach was bent over the wall. He swung his legs over and landed next to Saera in a crouch. Looking up at her, he said, “Did you miss me?”
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~ Twenty Thousand ~

The Word: father's

The Paragraph: “What was your "father’s" name?” said Faine.
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~ Twenty-One Thousand ~

The Word: they

The Paragraph: This was the reason "they" were here now. The light had been with Saera for seven years. It wasn’t until this week that it decided come out and greet them. Why couldn’t it have stayed hidden? No one ever had to know about it, but now the whole country did. And they wanted to hurt Saera because of it. And because Eoin was helping her, they’d want to hurt him, too. And Faine. He was only trying to help an innocent girl travelling with the carriages, and he’d been swept into something far, far greater. It was a brutal place they lived in. Had lived in.
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~ Twenty-Two Thousand ~

The Word: in

The Paragraph: Eoin didn’t have to question how Faine knew this. In fact it was quite simple. At the time they’d entered the tunnel, the sun was beginning to lower. Logically, they would have been in here long enough that it would be dark outside. But Eoin felt strange. It was the constant darkness. This was truly the darkest place he had ever been. No sunlight accompanied them through cracks or holes "in" the roof. The only light came from Saera’s Aura. A strange mystical light so pure that it was unnatural.
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Epic Arrangement: They was around his father's food wall, like sun. Eoin happened past there last. We... we didn't ever be from in there.

This is just a quick post to let all my wonderful followers know that Chapter Four is up this very period on CC if you want to see what is happening in the world of Aundes Aura at the moment, or even if you'd like to drop me a critique!

I apologise again for a slow-down in posts. The later days of school really limit your opportunities in other areas, but I'm trying my best to keep the blog active.

That was the tower in my dream.

I pull myself up the ladder just like last time. People fall past me on both sides. It’s a shame. But I know they’ll wake up once they hit the ground. I remember the moment of utter fear I’d felt as I’d tumbled through the air.

And I know I’m dreaming, but I can’t stop climbing. And what will happen when I reach the top? Will I fall and colour the ground?

Perhaps.

But those few seconds of fear will be worth it just to wake up. Because I am tired of climbing. I’m tired of the itch in my hands caused by the dirt left behind from others’ shoes, and knowing I can’t stop to scratch.

Because if I do I will fall.

But why must this tower be so tall? There couldn’t be such a thing as an eternal ladder.

As the people fall by I sense their regrets.

The last thing he said to his wife.

The crush who never knew her.

And here I am without regret, for whatever I have done wrong I have paid back with a thousand rights. Another rung, another step. Another challenge to face. And each one I had faced head on, and thus here am I, climbing a ladder to the heavens.

Even hurled stones cannot stop me, for what stone can break the mould of destiny? The top of this ladder is where my future lies. There lies the future of all. Come stones, I challenge you. Empower me to strive further, for without hindrance there is no challenge, and without challenge there is no reward.

Reward without challenge is the devil’s friend, and those who practise the cheat’s way shall fall from the tower to meet their other destiny.

The people falling by try to latch onto me and bring me down with them. They can’t touch me. I’ve done nothing wrong.

The ladder is not eternal. I can see the top. My destiny awaits. I reach up and pull myself another step closer. As soon as I had started climbing, it seems, I pull myself over the ladder and stand on the top of a thin spire, room enough for only one foot. I dare to look down, one foot hanging over the edge. I don’t fall. I am perfectly balanced, and I am unafraid.

Here a light comes, from everywhere around. My destiny has been found. I am blinded by white. And there is nothing.

I sit up. I see a tower with a great ladder.

That was the tower in my dream.

Tonight I passed 20,000 words! I am so, so close to passing the word count at which I stopped writing my previous concept of the novel. It seems like I've got a decent amount of plot and depth left in this to make it the whole way. I just have to keep going.

I may take a break sometimes, but I can't let this one pass me by like every other long story I have ever attempted. I strongly believe that this one is just that good. And, I absolutely adore it and I want to see it completed, and then improved, and then published.

And I am not naive at all as far as the publishing world at all. I already have a plan. But I can't go to step three without having first reached step two.

So my aim is to finish step one. And whether that happens by the end of next year, or the one after, I WILL do it.

Upcoming post: A Milestone Celebration: Every Thousand Words

I wonder how many of you noticed I posted a 2,500 word challenge the other day, which is now gone, deleted. That's because my failure was too much for me to bear. I have some interesting goals for August that would help me immensely with my life in general.

1. Reach 5,000 words for this month.

2. Write every day.

3. Make some effort to put my homework/writing/leisure schedule to actual use.

If I were to follow this diligently, it would sort out everything, from my late nights to my uncompleted homework, to my failure to reach the goals I set for myself.

It's quite sad, I think, all the disappointment I face when I find I'm not reaching my goals, or I have to tell two or three teachers a day that, no, I haven't done the homework.

On top of that it's a subconscious knock to the confidence I have in myself, and to my sense of freedom. At least if I did the homework my complaints about having so much would actually be warranted.

All of these societies and factions relate directly to my plot, so it was natural that they would occur to me. But why not add societies that flesh out the world from the start? What I feel is important here is that the groups add a more dynamic feel to the world, that they all interact in some way, with their own goals in mind. Almost like characters in their own right.
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I began with only the countries' societies.

Duthonne: Moderately religious. Strongly oppose heretics. They believe that four of the gods are good and that the other three are evil.

Meira: Moderately religious. Lightly oppose heretics. They believe the opposite to Duthonne about the gods, and the two countries war over this.

Arlea (island): Strongly religious. Believe that all gods are good. They have traditional beliefs and are the constant where the other two countries have developed their beliefs.

Then I began to wonder: Who is in control of these countries? Not all societies are the same in this respect.

The Church: They are the seat of power in Duthonne. Seven hundred years ago the King died and their was no heir to replace him. The Church were given power and have held dominance to this day. They believe very strongly, and are far too narrow-minded as far as teaching children about the gods. Their teachings have fuelled the wars, making many people fully believe that the people of Meira are as evil as the gods they worship, and ought to be wiped out.

Those who oppose the Church are punished, the punishment being equatable to the crime. Punishments can go as far as torture and execution.

The Queen of Meira: Elegant and powerful, she loves her people and treasures their lives. She is strong in her beliefs, but she doesn't go as far as the Church when it comes to punishment. She is willing to collaborate with various groups in order to help her country.

So what else is there? I was reading a book when the next came to me, and I had to stop reading to go and take note of it.

The Order: A faction devoted to the gods. All seven of them. Each member of the Order fights with the weapon of their choice. They know when the world is in grave danger and know a number of rituals in order to prevent it from happening. These are good guys, but their means might not be in line with what other people want.

And this last group came to me the other night when I couldn't sleep.

The Underground: A faction of thieves and pickpockets in Emareus, the capital city of Meira. They know ways into the castle that even the guards don't know about. The "Thief-King" has the supreme Aura -- that of Elcalades, the Giving Father. The group is made up of men and boys, mostly poor and orphaned. The group offers them a home as children, and they grow up in the environment and learn to survive in the streets.
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All these groups affect each other. They all have a purpose in mind. Teach, rule, serve, survive. The way they interact can create a very dynamic feeling, and when unlikely collaborations occur, they become all the more intriguing.

What could possibly bring the Thief-King to work with the Queen?

Why do the characters seem to think the Order is bad when it is actually good?

Who can bring down the Church, or find someone in the King's bloodline to take over the throne?

While we're journeying with our characters, things are happening on the other side of the world. Know what's going on, and you will know your world all the better.

Terreur, je n'ai eu pas des amis que j'adore comme j'adorais mes amis il y a trois ans.

Terreur, I have never had any friends that I love as much as those I had three years ago, before I left. At recess and lunch I stand with a group of people of whom some accept me while many of them don't, and only go to the movies in their tight-knit group.

But what's really sad? My long-term memory. The fact that I can't even remember the inside part of "The Parliament". I miss having true friends, save for the few I have gained and kept.

I wished I could have reacted bigger when I drove past you today, but when I drive, I grip the wheel very tight and my hands go white.

I stuck with you for a year and a half because I loved you, no matter what.

And now there is nothing, and I live on the hill, writing day after day and trying to maintain a blog so I can help other writers and entertain people and market my novel. And to feel that people actually like me because of who I am, what I know and what I do.

I haven't heard from Mykaelah since, but I know Brod well enough. One day Clinky asked if we could go to Fountain Gate. I said "sounds cool, I'll see when I'm available". And I never spoke to her about it again.

I got a text from Sarah once. It said she "liked" me. I probably responded with something like "okay", and never spoke of it again. Because I loved you, and I was with you, and she was your friend and I didn't want to hurt you.

Isn't it funny how the past seems to have disintegrated? Like it's so long ago that it never existed. It feels like a dream to me. It feels like a dream I had this morning, and a dream that I would have for the future. Wouldn't it be a dream to be around people you love and who love you back?

I had my dream three years ago, and now it's gone.

So I'm looking at a new dream. Not the dream of this morning, but the dream I'll have tonight. To be with someone who loves me for who I am, what I know and what I do. To do what I love, what I know, and what makes me who I am.

I might not make a living out of writing.

But writing will make a living out of me.

Because writing is my life.

The intention with this post is to answer all the questions using only titles from my bookshelf.
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Are you male or female: Mister Monday

Describe yourself: The Prisoner of Azkaban

How do you feel: Magician

Where do you live: City of Bones

Where would you like to go: Narnia (The Chronicles of Narnia)

What is your favourite form of transportation: The Silver Horse

Your best friend is: The Lord of the Rings

You and your best friends are: The Merlin Conspiracy

What's the weather like: Drowned Wednesday

Favourite time of day: On Writing

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called: Writing Magic

What is life to you: The Silver Road

Your relationship: The Fire Within

Your fear: A Series of Unfortunate Events

What is the best advice you have to give: Make A Scene

Thought for the Day: The Wide Window

How would you like to die: Making Shapely Fiction

Your soul's present condition: Grim Tuesday

Your motto: So You Think You Know Harry Potter