Revenant Evil

NaNo, you soul sucking bastard, oh how I love you so…

Word Count – 13,406.  “Suggested” Word Count – 18,334

I feel like Rocky Balboa at the end of the first Rocky movie.  He wasn’t trying to beat Apollo Creed; he just wanted to go fifteen rounds (or however many it was; it’s been a while) with the champ. He just wanted to prove that he belonged there, to himself more than anyone (and Adrienne). He knew wasn’t the best, but he knew he could compete with the best. 

It’s NaNo day twelve as I stagger to my corner.  I’ve got the cauliflower ear, someone needs to slice open the puffy sack under my eye with a razor blade, and I’m spitting blood into a bucket.  But I’m in it.  Whatever happens, no matter how many times the blank page shouts up at me “It’s over!” or “Yer a bum!” in its best Burgess Meredith, I’m keeping on keeping on. 

I started slowly, barely crawled, in fact. Life got in the way in the wee hours of Monday morning, and I didn’t actually write a word that wasn’t part of the title until Day 2. But I’m kicking along pretty good. I actually like the story, and when the draft’s finished and I go back to revise, I think I might have something pretty good. Personally, I like the characters, and I’m eager to find out what happens next (even though I already know, mostly). If you can get engaging characters and an interesting plot, you about 90% there.

I had originally conceived of a zombie-takes-revenge-on-a-town tale, and became concerned when my undead refused to behave like traditional zombies. It’s one thing to have a fresh take on the genre, it’s another thing to throw beloved conventions and expectations out the window. Anyone who would go near a zombie book wants to read about zombies, and zombies are specific creatures with specific attributes. I was worried my “zombies” would be so far off the map that I’d annoy or bore the very audience I’d be seeking. Until I realized I wasn’t writing about zombies at all.

It turns my undead weren’t zombies but revenants, a term I’d heard before here and there but hadn’t given much thought to. A revenant (as most horror and comics fans know) is an undead (corporeal or ghost) with an individual personality and a specific motivation, usually revenge. Revenants are often brought back via magic or with the aid of some sort of necromancer. In some cases, there can be “good-guy” revenants like Spawn. There’s no zombie apocalypse or zombie virus. This description fits my undead perfectly. It was exactly what I needed to help shape my story and keep the plot from spewing out all over the place.

I just think it’s interesting how I tapped unconsciously into something that’s been a part of folklore and pop culture for centuries without even realizing. Somewhere down the road (when I’m not writing a novel in a month) there’s a blog about the collective subconscious.

Maybe that’s why people keep stealing my ideas two years before I have them.

Sloppy Zombie Seconds

Didn’t think I’d have a topic to write about today, but unfortunately one presented itself last night.

I have my story all set for NaNo.  I’ve taken extensive notes; I’ve outlined the plot.  I even have a query pitch all ready for it.  I’ve been almost giddy for November to come so I could tear into this project.  I showed the pitch to a friend at work to drum up moral support for the undertaking.  I waited impatiently for her to finish as she meticulously and lovingly devoured each word.  I kind of suspected she’d like it, but you never know.  Finally she finished it with what I swear was a gasp of delight (okay, maybe not).

“What do you think?” I asked. 

“You really need to write this; it is so good.”  Kind of what I thought she’d say, not that I’m cocky, but because my “inner circle” tends to like anything I write, even if it’s crap.  But before I could gush about the details, she added:

“In fact, I saw something just like this.”

What?

Now, I’m no stranger to investing my time in ideas that have already been done.  One of my first projects was a retelling of The Wizard of Oz from the point of view of the Wicked Witch (yeah, didn’t finish that one).  I came up with a more intelligent version of Little Nicky about a month before I saw the trailer for the Adam Sandler version.  The list goes on.  It was so bad I could almost conjure a book I wanted to read or movie I wanted see simply by independently coming up with the idea myself.

But that was then.  I wasn’t a writer, not really.  Yeah, I had the mountain of writing books, the perfectly sharpened no. 2’s, and the meticulously cluttered writing space.  But I hadn’t written anything, not really.  I was a dreamer, a wannabe.  I wasn’t ready then.

This is now.  I’ve done it, whatever else happens or doesn’t happen, I’ve finished a novel.  The more I delve into the business and the more I despair of my little-manuscript-that-could disappearing forever under the sea of competition and form rejections, the more confidence I gain in my actual abilities.  I’m a writer, damn it.  Whether or not I ever make a dime off it.

Which is why I took it so hard when I found out my “fresh take” on the zombie genre was about two years old.  As soon as she told me, I hit Wikipedia and found the offending item, a cable anthology show.  I read the article, plot spoilers and all, and yes, it was pretty much my idea.  The crappy part is that I’d never heard of this show, much less seen it, so I couldn’t have stolen anything, even subconsciously.  My idea was original, it was just someone’s else’s original idea first. 

After the initial blow wore off, I realized it wasn’t all that bad.  The “zombie twist” was the entire plot of this episode, it’s only a small but important part of my book.  Also, it’s a different medium, television, and a different target audience; I see the book as (mature) Young Adult.  Anyway, I’m going to write it.  It’s either that or line edit The Wind Maiden again, and I’d rather shove a perfectly sharpened no. 2 in my eye.  I think everybody knows there are very few new ideas out there.  It just stings when you think you caught one and reality snatches it from your grasp.

That’s 120 Novels in Ten Years – Sure, No Problem…

I didn’t want to tell anyone so I didn’t look the fool if I didn’t do it, but I’ve decided to participate in the National Novel Writing Month’s write-a-novel-in-a-month challenge coming up in November.  Seeing as my only previous complete novel took me almost three years to finish, I wouldn’t exactly bet Timmy’s college fund on my chances.  On the other hand, I feel pretty confident about it.  The hardest part of writing your first novel is that you’ve never done it before; you don’t know what it’s like to finish.  I know how to finish now.

I have about a week to decide which idea gets the golden ticket to novel-dom.  I have a witch, some teenage zombies, and killer alien bug-like things (oddly-enough, I don’t read a lot of horror novels; maybe it’s the siren song of All Hallows Eve.)  I’m leaning towards the zombies, but we’ll see.