That said, I hope I do have proper perspective on this one, because I really enjoyed it. It looks to me like All That Death is a better book than the just drafted Degrees of Murder, and that it will require less revision. We’ll see–I’ll be workshopping the book with various friends & associates over the next month. The plan is to have most of the revisions done by the end of the month, and then to have it published & available for purchase sometime this spring.

I’m going to post the first scene below the fold–an innocent seeming scene, with a mere hint of danger lurking beneath the surface. Keep in mind that this is still a draft, so nothing here is necessarily as good as it should be. Also, there are some spoilers for After the Service–nothing that would give too much away, but it wouldn’t hurt to go purchase that book before you read the excerpt!

David Kelter felt 12 again. It was Saturday morning, and he was eating cereal at his parents’ kitchen table while trying to watch TV, as he had on so many Saturday mornings a decade before. And, just like many of those mornings, his plans were being foiled by his mother, talking loudly to the nearby phone. Admittedly, it was the local news on the TV instead of cartoons, but other than that it was a familiar situation.

But this would be David’s last Saturday morning eating cereal at his parents’ house for a while. Today, he was heading back to Seattle Pacific University to begin his second-to-last quarter as an undergraduate. He was very nearly a graduate, with a bachelor’s degree in Christian Theology (plus a minor in journalism)—and he didn’t like feeling like a 6th grader.

Still, his plea of “Mom, I’m trying to watch!” couldn’t help taking him back to those halcyon days, but he shook it off and tried to think grown-up thoughts. The news was talking about the latest Killer Winter Storm preparing to come through the Puget Sound area, and he concentrated very hard on the forecaster’s dire warnings.

It was no good. The dramatic “Storm Watch” coverage was almost exactly the same as it had been when he was 12, and he still felt like a child. Grumbling inwardly, David went back to his Froot-Loops and stopped paying attention.

The next segment, though, quieted his mother down—she even said her goodbyes and hung up the phone. David looked up at the TV again and saw a familiar sight. His mother, with no hint of irony, shushed him before he said anything.

“The Seattle Health District released its report today,” the anchor was saying, “clearing the catering service at Seattle Pacific University’s Gwinn Commons of having any part E. coli outbreak that claimed two lives there in November.”

David pumped his fist in the air. “Finally!” The shock of the two deaths at the school had gradually dissipated, but the chaos caused by a closed cafeteria had endured. David lived off-campus, and didn’t eat at Gwinn very often—but even so, it was nice to have the option.

The news anchor went on. “Authorities have not yet determined the source of the infections, but say they do not believe the school, or any restaurant near the school, to be at fault.”

David’s mother pursed her lips. “I worry about you there, David, you know. All that death.”

David rolled his eyes. They had had this conversation before. “What do you mean, all that death?” he demanded. “There were two cases of E. coli poisoning, and they apparently didn’t even happen at the school—and neither did the other death.”

His mother’s pursing grew more strident. David was referring to an unfortunate incident at his church back in October, when he had stumbled upon the body of a murdered parishioner. The conversation in which he had told his mother about it had not been pleasant.

“Maybe not, but if it weren’t for God’s protection, you would have ended up as the other other death!” Oh, yes—that. His mother was referring to the unfortunate incident when the murderer of that parishioner had held David at gunpoint. The conversation in which he had told his mother about that had been even less pleasant.

“Oh come on, Mom,” he grumbled. He didn’t begrudge God credit, but he did like to think that his own quick thinking had something to do with his survival.

“Well, I’m not saying that you can’t go back,” his mother said.

I should hope not, considering I pay my own way, David thought. He took out his own loans, anyway. But his mother was continuing.

“I’m just expressing my concern. Can you accept that, please?” This was a typical exchange, and David ended it the typical way.

“Ok, Mom, I’m sorry. Thanks for your concern.” He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. “Oh, hey—I need to go.”

“You have a meeting for your newspaper?” she asked, and he nodded as he stood up and put his bowl in the sink.

“That’s the one. Tell Dad goodbye for me, ok?”

“Of course I will,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “You be safe, ok?”

David chuckled. “No more hostage situations, I promise. I love you.”

“I love you too,” his mother answered. And with that, he was off.

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After the Service is the the story of David Kelter, an unassuming college student who stumbles across a freshly dead corpse in his church, and finds himself on the trail of a killer–a trail that leads right down the middle of Grace Baptist Church! Also available in hardback.

Edelsha: Tale of the Third Ring is the tale of Geoff, a boy of sixteen (also unassuming, as it happens), who is transported to a fantastic land of gryphons, dryads, magic, and a deadly evil that he alone can stand against. Also available in paperback.

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And now, I get to forget it entirely. December is devoted to rewriting David Kelter’s previous mystery, All That Death–I’ll be blogging bits and pieces of that process, as well. I will come back to this draft once that whole process is entirely finished, and AtD is published, hopefully sometime this spring.

“This draft,” by the way, has a new name–I’ve ditched The Murder School, and am currently calling it Degrees of Murder. Get it? Because, you see, he graduates.

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But once I hit 25,000, things got more difficult. The next 25,000 took 12 days to write, and I averaged 1,987 per day. Things were incredibly inconsistent–the median was 821 words, and days ranged from zero to 6,144. Things were not coming easy, and writing was hard work, meaning I was easily distracted.

Then, this weekend, I started in on my last 25,000, and I have hopes that we’ll see a blending of the two. The work has not gotten particularly easier, but I may have found a strategy that enables me to get get significant amounts of writing done anyway–specifically, an expectation that I will write 1,000 words each hour. Once I have finished those 1,000 words, whether it takes me the entire hour or only 30 minutes, I can indulge myself in one distraction or another. It worked very well yesterday, when I cranked out 5,395 words.

It seems like a silly thing, but I think this just might be the strategy that gets the book finished before December.

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That means that not only am I halfway through the month, but I’m probably also halfway through the novel itself, which is pretty good timing. And not only that, but I’m just about exactly halfway through those handwritten notes, too.

The best news of all, though, is that I think I’m over the wall I hit this past week. After four straight days of sub-1000 writing, I cranked out 4,736 yesterday.

(NOTE: Somehow, this post got lost somewhere in the ether last weekend. I think there was more to it when I first wrote it, but here’s what seems to have survived.

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Specifically, David’sd graduation. It’s not really all that dull–it’s a very short portion of the book, so readers will whiz right through it. I have to slog through each and every word. Also, it’s an important piece of scenery for the book, and the event the entire story is organized around (aside from the murder). So it’s not like I can or should just skip it. I’m just going to have to muscle it out, I think.

My other problem is that I’m coming to the end of my typed outline. I’ve typed up a bit more, but I’m not sure if I should spend time typing & neatening the entire rough outline, or if I should just type from the chicken scratch on the notebook paper from here on out. Decisions, decisions.

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I’m averaging 3,357.4 words per day, which would come out to about 100,722 words if I keep it up. I’m not planning on having The Murder School be quite that long. After the Service is about 69,000, and the first draft of All That Death is just under 75,000. I expect The Murder School to be longer than either, but not by 25,000 words. If you throw out my single highest & lowest days, I’m averaging right around 2,900 a day–I’d end up with about 91,000 words, which is still longer than I’d like, but acceptable for a first draft. I’m shooting for about 80-85,000 words for this one.

So, not only should I be able to finish my 50K without much problem, I should also actually be able to finish the entire draft before November 30.

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Depending on how things go, I’d like to be well beyond 50K by the time November 30 rolls around. The last two David Kelter books have both been around 70-75K, and this one may well end up longer than that. But I have plans for next month–namely, revising the second David Kelter book, All That Death, to have it ready for publication in the Spring. So, if I could finish the entirety of The Murder School during November, that would be ideal.

But doing the writing has reminded me of something very important–writing is hard work. Sometimes it comes easily, and those are great days. But usually, it’s hard work. When you haven’t sat down and written 10K words in a weekend for a while, you sometimes forget that little fact.

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Last night, I managed to scrape together outlines of my last few scenes. They aren’t great, but I’m expecting that, as I write, they will coalesce by the time I finish. Besides, I expect that by the time I get there, I’ll be well past 50K, and thus out from under the gun of November, so that I’ll be able to take my time.

However, I could not take my time today. I had set the goal for myself of hitting 7,500 words, without realizing how scanty the outlines for my first few scenes really were. My next few scenes are actually outlined fairly thoroughly, so it will be less work to put them together. Today, though, I took 17 handwritten lines of notes and turned them into 7,519 words. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.

I also had to name some characters, which I put more effort into this time around than I have in the past. I’ll introduce those names in a later post. For the moment, I’ll leave you with the Lines Of The Day. I may not do this every day, but whenever I write something that strikes me as moderately worthwhile I’ll share it with you.

“Mr. Kelter, I realize this may be an unusual request, but hear me out. When Jenny first decided to come out here to visit Seattle Pacific, I did some research on the school. Part of that research was reading several editions of the Falcon, where I read some of articles about the unfortunate events of this past January—and your part in them. And I also read the article you wrote in regards to your investigation of the death that occurred in your church. If you don’t mind my saying so, those were both rather impressive accomplishments.”

David, as it happened, didn’t mind.

And with that, I’m going to bed. Tommorow, I’ll write something more sensible, like 1,667 words. Or so.

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