Bang. A solid door opens. Two steps. Another scream. Seconds passing by feel minutes. Something hot drops on the floor. One, two, three…other steps closing in. Someone yells my name. I can’t see. I can’t speak. I can’t breathe.

Something grabs me. I’m not on the ground anymore. I’m floating. Water? No. I’m still burning. Another bang. I’m not floating anymore. I can breathe. Still burning. Something hotter drops on my arm. I know it’s my arm. Something cold suddenly runs though my arm fighting the flames. Scissors. Something is being cut. No, not my hair! Metallic sound. A pinch. Now my arm is on fire. It’s burning! No! what are you doing to me? Burning… burning… why are they burning me?

‘Good morning!’

‘Again? it happened again?’

‘Yes.’

Its an intriguing novel that concentrates the plot around a young woman and a mysterious man who’s only plan is to put the whole world in a gold crisis. But as we follow the beautiful lawyer Esta we understand that things are not always what they seem to be and she’s more than meets the eyes. We walk with her into the past, traveling back in time in Ancient Summer 3902 BC, while she follows the trail of Soitan soon after she realizes that the gold market is behaving strangely.

Soitan, the man who wants to find the lost secrets of the alchemy and use them to consolidate his power in the new world. As George Sinclair writes on his blog: “Soitan, a ruthless and sadistic tycoon has hoarded huge amounts of gold, and intends to destroy the world’s economy once he discovers the secret of gold transmutation, but he must first discover the secret process.  Suddenly, as sinister forces shadow his every move his focus turns to ancient King-making rituals.”

I liked the first chapters and I am curious about how he’ll take the action forward. We have mystery, murder, time travel, the action is spiced very well, but I want to know them better: at the end of the sixth chapter I feel that I don’t know Esta nor Soitan. But what I can tell for sure is that more good things will come out of this book that I recommend reading.

ps: you can follow George on twitter at: http://twitter.com/#!/GeorgeNSinclair

As a writer, I totally love the idea of having 30 days to write a novel that long! You could say that is impossible, but it’s not. What I like most about this all November contest is that it doesn’t matter what you’re writing and how, only how much. It’s a very good exercise: you’ll stop revising and revising and thinking that what you’re writing is a piece of crap that no one sane in this world will publish you. Instead you’ll know that is crap and bye bye to writer’s block and all those problems.

So why wouldn’t I get on board and write it and after the competition I can revise it as long as I want and get a good novel out of that? NaNoWriMo gives you space to just write!

Plus that any challenge is good for every writer and this one is pretty difficult one since you have to write so many things.

“What: Writing one 50,000-word novel from scratch in a month’s time.

Who: You! We can’t do this unless we have some other people trying it as well. Let’s write laughably awful yet lengthy prose together.

Why: The reasons are endless! To actively participate in one of our era’s most enchanting art forms! To write without having to obsess over quality. To be able to make obscure references to passages from our novels at parties. To be able to mock real novelists who dawdle on and on, taking far longer than 30 days to produce their work.

When: You can sign up anytime to add your name to the roster and browse the forums. Writing begins November 1. To be added to the official list of winners, you must reach the 50,000-word mark by November 30 at midnight. Once your novel has been verified by our web-based team of robotic word counters, the partying begins.

Still confused? Just visit the How NaNoWriMo Works page!”

http://www.nanowrimo.org/eng/whatisnano

ps: I’m in, anyone else? (click here for my my nanowrimo page)

please don’t close the curtains at night
I want to see the sky
and please, please don’t go until you say
goodbye
because I want to remember your voice.

I could write you poems and songs
I could love you until the end of life
but a rat’s life is short
and I want to stare into your black eyes
and see the stars.

please, never let me sleep
I don’t want to close my eyes in front of you,
but please let me dream
I need to feel you close
even if you’re not

a poem

There are no secret potions to banish this demon. What we have to do when we are alone in our room, with a blank page in front of us and rambled idea in our heads is to forget everything and be just a writer with his words. Everything must disappear: publishers, shopping list, clothes that must be washed, wife/husband, etc.  and you’ll be the writer. Is not simple at all, but the people we love must understand that we need some time just for ourselves and write in intimacy, and most of all, we must understand it.

And once we are the writer and all we can start create and you can do everything here. Is you world. Use post cards, notes, outlines, character’s sheet, index cards, or whatever you feel like it helps, you can walk, talk to yourself, talk to your character, because in this room for one hour or ten, you are the crazy writer king of your world. Feel your book, feel what you are and you’ll succeed. There will be difficult moments after you finish the book, but now it’s now and you must be the writer with your book done.

Soon I heard the tires screeching on the ground and instantly I saw the car spinning and turning, almost hitting the house. I was heading already for the exit, when I stopped and turned to say to my mother not to get out  whatever it happens.

I got out of the house and hugged the big Harry. I got inside the truck and drove fast, knowing just the reason why we did it. I had to stop it. We had to drive for a while to find the perfect spot. We settled in.

“The storm is getting bigger by the minute. I can feel the closure.” I said. “Are we safe?”

“Just for the moment and only inside. No one can get through this” and he showed me what he did to protect us. “But if you go ouside…”

“I have to.”

It was no sound but the strong wind. The car was protected and he gave me a necklace to wear it. It was made from salt and a weird stone. I put it around my neck not knowing if will be enough to keep me safe.

After that, everything happened fast. I got out of the car to see the heavy clouds coming down to earth the wind hitting me in the face and I  looked on my right side and I saw it.

It was big and fierce, with black eyes that pierce through me. But most of all I could sense the pure evil that came from it. I gasped and tried to concentrate, but it was hard: he was coming right to me. It was a blue dark horse, running towards me without touching the earth. My heart was beating like crazy.

“En el nombre del Padre del Hijo y del Espiritu Santo” and I made the sign of the cross in front of the beast.

That made it angry and tried to mess up with my mind while I tried very hard to keep myself focused on that incantation.

“En el nombre del Padre…deeeel Hijo y dellll….Espi…ri…tu Saan…to” and I managed to do the sign of the cross with my right hand again, but with difficult.

“En el nombre…”

And I was shut. It got me. I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t rise my hand to do the sign for the last time to seal it away. In the same instant its head was near my right ear and I was paraliyed with fear. I could feel its breathing on my back. But it didn’t hurt me, even if pure evil was close to me, it just said something that I couldn’t understand.

And then it all disappeared. I was in my bed, gasping and shaking.

*** real dream.

Tic tac.

My breath is the last

Tic tac.

Your smile is a gas tank

I’m the fire.

And yet I can hear them whispering into me. is it the sound of eternity? I can see numbers… 2, 25, 34, 67, 84, 12 …

Shut up!!!!

But the sound is heavy, the cold … I can foresee. I know that empty eyes see into the abyss.

Now I will ask a question. Do you know your characters? If you do, than you are 1 happy writer from thousands, maybe millions that know “how to” and you shouldn’t think that you’re one of them. Foot on the ground, head in the sky and think. Ask him/her whatever you want. Put your characters questions  and find the response. After you know from where your characters are coming and going, now you know for sure where your heading. Why is that important?  Because You’re writing stories about people, they make the action, they are the soul of your writing; without a soul, your just have a sketch of something indefinite and unclear.

Now you know your characters. Try to write, and you’ll see how beautiful it all comes out. They’ll guide you.

The process of writing it’s a hard one, and whenever you are stuck, go back to your characters, they’ll have the solution, even if it takes time of finding it.

<zombies, they are everywhere. I cannot outrun them and there is no place to hide. my head wound is pricking but there’s no time for whining. “get a hold of yourself” i say trying desperately not to lose control now.

the guns hold in my hand are useless,good just to slow them down… no match for an undead. how could kill an undead if he’s already dead?

all my dear people are dead and it’s up to me to stop all of them. it’s enough that I had to stab my mother until she died, to see her colorless zombie eyes twist, her bloody mouth trying to say something, to read the agonizing fear in her eyes when her body shifted.

Died….
In my head it became clear as the blue summer sky.

“you’re damned, motherfuckers!”
I rose my head up and ran to retrieve my father’s sword!

_______

I think that this is the beginning of a new idea for writing. Of course that it happened while i was leaving a comment on Diana Peterfreund’s blog.

The first chapter was obviously the most difficult to write because I wasn’t satisfied with it and I kept editing it (really big mistake!!). After two months I found on the internet a lovely book about the craft of writing with advices and examples of how to do and how to not do. The book was about the attitude that you needed to write the story. And I understood a few things. And then I kept writing again like crazy. And then the demon overpowered me, saying that it was no good, that my book was terrible. I even considered deleting it. But then I realized that I loved my characters and I couldn’t just give up on them and I promised myself to keep writing and tell their stories. But my characters were still stubborn; they didn’t want to talk about their story, their problems or their life.

Then, a week ago, I just feel in love with movie scripts and I began documenting myself. I can say that is the same deal, the only difference that the story you tell is very visual and dynamic and, most of all, very concentrate. A movie script is like the essence of a novel. And then I realized why I didn’t knew my characters: I never asked them to tell me the story, I just wanted them to come to me and print the words in my head. But this does not work. So I began making some characters sheets just like for a movie script. I must say that I’m on the third chapter and I didn’t thought it was wise or that it will help me in some way. I thought it would just be some sort of outline for my characters. But I was totally wrong even this time. It did help. Now that I wrote the characters sheet, asking them to speak with me, they are telling their story, their reasons. And now in this very moment I feel the revelation and the powers that their story has on me. Now that I know them, I can write about them, because they are showing and telling the real story.