I took last week off to get some much needed beach R&R, but now I'm back, and so is the serial.
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| Vacation, all I ever wanted... |
I've recently discovered that my storytelling works best when I sketch out and idea first, plot it out in my own writers short-hand, before I start in on the words. Sometimes a first sentence will come to me, and then I'll stop the flow right there and begin sketching. I am hopelessly lost, however, if I don't do my sketch. It's my roadmap telling me where the story needs to go.
Also went back yesterday and looked at my "Wizards" novel. It's been sitting for months; the last time I touched it was June 27 (according to my Google Docs) and that was just to rewrite the first chapter. Most of it I haven't even seen since March. It's been enough time that I've almost forgotten the story, which is what I've been aiming for. I want to be as separated from it as I can be before I go in and do more changes. I have a feeling that there are some fundamental plot changes that need to happen, but I can't do any of them if I feel too close to the story. I want to get back into it, but the longer I let it sit, the better it will be. I just read the first chapter, like peaking under the lit. Smells delicious. Let's let it sit another month or two...
In the mean time, I'm trying to get amped up for this year's NaNoWriMo, and another novel I have cooking in my brain. For that roadmap, I am going to try something different. Notecards! I'm going to sketch out all the story elements on cards, and then put them into order to form chapters. For some reason the story isn't jelling in my head. Hopefully the notecard method will help me piece it together.
Back to the serial, now! Short chapter this week. Lots of dialogue. Still moving the story forward, and setting things up for the showdown. Enjoy!
LLH
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
"The Demented Non-Life of Jefferson Davis"
By L.L. Heberlein
(copyright 2015, all rights reserved)
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHAM!
I awoke in a heap on the floor. My head hurt. I must have hit it pretty hard when my body collapsed. It wouldn’t bruise, but it still hurt. The pain left quickly after I slurped down my first cup of coffee. I followed it with a second, then hit the shower. Blessed, blessed hot shower. I get so freaked out sometimes when I die like that, without settling into bed first like a real living person. It reminds me that I’m something else. Something not natural. The shower helped restore my humanity.
I went to the closet, and it was as I expected. I found a suit, exactly in my size, along with shirts, shoes and an assortment of ties. This place specialized in having everything to accommodate the guest on the go. Maybe after years of having to provide clothes and amenities to supernaturals seeking sanctuary, they began to anticipate what you’d need. How they did it, however, was a mystery to me. Magic? Must be.
I looked myself over in the floor-length mirror. Damn, I looked good. I did, however, need a haircut. My brown curls were looking less hipster and more moppish. The hack shave job from the other night looked scruffy, too. There’d be time to fix all this, but just barely. Clara and McGuffin would be here any minute.
I unlocked the door to my room, opened it, and there stood Harold Schwartz. Vampires usually take longer than I do to rise after dark. The fact that he was standing there waiting for me to open the door probably meant I was on top of his to-do list today. Shit.
“Good evening, Davis.” He leaned against the door frame and looked right into my soul.
“Good evening,” I answered. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” He took a quick glance over my shoulder, then back to staring into me.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve reserved a meeting room for this evening. Meeting someone?”
“Is that any of your business?”
“Absolutely,” Schwartz said. “You know it is.”
I swallowed. “I needed a safe place to meet some people.”
“What people?”
“Business people,” I said. “You know, for business.”
“Right,” Schwartz said. “Mind if I drop by?”
“Uh…” Having Schwartz there might keep me safe, but it would definitely ruin all my other plans. “It’s private.”
“Right,” Schwartz said. “Private.”
“Right,” I said.
“Does this have anything to do with your friend, John Horesman, and his untimely death?”
“No,” I lied.
Schwartz could smell a lie. He glared at me, but let it go for some reason. He sighed a big sigh, and I watched something come over him. Humanity maybe. He’d been so straight edged and scary a moment ago. He ran his hands over his face, and then through his hair, like a normal guy.
“Listen, Schwartz, I…”
“Eric,” he said. “Just call me Eric. Davis, please… just cut this crap, okay?”
“What?”
“Horseface was my friend too.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, well… Yeah.” He took a moment before he spoke again. “Look, Davis. I know there’s stuff you’re not telling me about John’s death. I know you didn’t do it, but I also know you know more than you’re telling me. You’re not going to get in trouble for this, Davis. I’m on your side. I just want to help you out.”
“Sure, but last time you told me…”
“Last time was different, wasn’t it?” Schwartz – I mean, Eric – said. “Last time you actually did it.”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” I said.
“No,” he said. “But you weren’t innocent.”
I sighed. “Yeah. I know.”
“So let me help you this time. Maybe we can make some things better.”
I shook my head. “Some things you can’t make better,” I said. “I know that.” He just looked at me for a while, waiting for me to say something else. I didn’t know what to say. But the way he looked at me all human-like… I just caved. “Okay, fine. There’s this thing… this package.”
“Go on,” he said.
“They all want it. This vampire dame offered me a ton of money for it. I tried to get it for her, and I couldn’t. It was like she’d set me up. Then it just appeared at the office, out of nowhere. Once I had it, all these other people started crawling out of the woodwork, claiming it was theirs, and offering me a shit-ton more for it.”
“Sounds complicated,” Schwartz said. “What does this have to do with John?”
“John was holding the package when I found him.”
“John retrieved it for you?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Or it was delivered, and he signed for it.”
He nodded. “India mentioned a package.”
“You knew?”
“Yes,” he said. “I knew. India told me. She also mentioned some bad ju ju with it, like blood needing to be shed before it passes hands.”
“That’s news to me,” I said.
Eric nodded. “Whatever this thing is, it’s bad. Do you have it with you?”
I shook my head. “It’s hidden.”
“I hope you hid it well,” Eric said. “I’d hate to see any more blood shed.”
Which was ironic, if you think about it, coming from a vampire. I nodded, and turned to leave. “One more thing!” I said. “Where do you get your hair cut?”
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