Scott Sigler обясни нещата:

1. Scrivener - софтуер за писане на книги, research, бележки и т.н. (кракнат разбира се).

2. Папка де да си печатам research - бегай бе. Ще си ги пазя на desktop-а. То докторската ми теза бе станала 300 страници по едно време, та знам как да си пазя документи. Може и да го послушам де - бая неща ще трябва да research-на.

3. В Scrivener си слагам daily goal от 1500 думи за писане и почвам да пиша.

4. Като завърша книгата или чукна 90 000 думи, почвам версия 2 (преправена и съкратена или подобрена), а след нея - версия 3.

5. Ще пусна версия 3 по разни агенти с кратък текст да си рекламирам произведението.

6. Пиша си другите книги от поредицата докато чакам да публикуват първата книжка.

7. Повтарям.

Може даже да си намеря неква истинска работа до към Април, та да ми носи кинта докато си се занимавам с това.

П.П. И ще си пиша всичко на английски - гяурския никой не го чете освен гяурите.

А първата ми версия сигурно ще бъде като сценария на Кристофър от семейство Сопрано:

После на премиерата на филма имаше разсърдени.

Baj_boeb

После на премиерата на филма имаше разсърдени.

Еми - човека се ебаваше със шефа си...

И после се напи и си уби сценариста, де му оправи сценария...

Хм, тоя е печен пич - ше фана да му преслушам клиповете.

П.П. Тоя е ебати пича - ше си направя playlist с негови видеота. Май даже е редактор точно в моя жанр - психологически ужас, трилър и конспирации. Вика да се кълцат дългите описания, и че читателите са достатъчно умни за да си направят изводите.

Аз тъй мислех да го пиша - директно на екшъна, без много обяснения, ама после реших, че ще са малко думи. А човека вика, че тъй е най-интересно за четене.

Еми тъй правя - ако стане 200 страници книжката, вече ще му мисля, дали да я запълвам с неща от втората книга.

П.П.П. Редактира и публикува книги - като си подготвя версия 2-3 на книгата. Ще се свържа с него значи.

Гледай доктората, чуек, после книгите.

BIGBUGEX

Гледай доктората, чуек, после книгите.

Ся кат минат тука първите януаро-празнични дни и ще се свържа с доцента, да го питам до къде сме.

Идеята е да я довърша до края на Януари и да я оставя в ТУ-София да се претака няколко месеца и Април да защитя.

П.П. Ама тоя Патрик е много акълия - даде ми идея как да си пренапиша началото на книгата та да има някаква зарибявка.

"There was something wrong with the shot bodies... and not just that their heads were glowing blue. Or so did the old man claim."

Яко - направо ще пиша кратко и без да се задълбавам в бюрокрацийката. И къв цвят е потника на главния герой... Черен, разбира се - нали е "лошо" момче...

Яко - тоя софтуер Scrivener е готин, бе. Ей ся надрасках за 2 часа 1500 думи (3 страници) с пролог.

NOVEMBER 12, 8:47 PM:

There was something wrong with the bloody bodies, and not just that they were glowing in blue. Or so did the old drunkard on the sidewalk said. His only “reliable” eyewitness. Jack illuminated the burned red car where the bodies lied, the light from his flashlight illuminated the inscription on it “Lawrence and partners”. He couldn’t recognize the bodies, because they were burnt to a crisp, but judging by their size and built, and the license plate, that the nice officer ran a check for him, he already knew.

“Goddamn it.”

14 months of investigation. So many wiretaps, trips to the attorney’s office and late nights in the safehouse across the strip club… for nothing.

There was no mistaking it.

The larger body, partially leaning out of the open door of the driver’s seat, belonged to Vinnie “The Fish” Santino who got his notorious nickname, by smuggling drugs from Europe back in the nineties, using a boat and a diving equipment. He would dive, detach the drug package from the bottom of the European boat and attach it to the bottom of his expensive yacht. All with the helpful support of well paid New York cops, of course.

Jack managed to hold his spit. He didn’t want to mess up the crime scene… or what was left of it anyways. He was this close to flipping the guy. They were supposed to meet next week so The Bureau could set up a witness protection program for him.

The other body, leaning back on the passenger seat with a large bullet hole in his forehead, was that of senior partner Justin Lawrence, who had recently made Vinnie a junior partner in the firm. The “Lawrence and partners” have been laundering money for the Gambini family, for a couple of years now, and just now when they have “allegedly” stole millions from the family and could be flipped to testify against it - they were massacred.

And senior partner Lawrence was involved in a few other FBI investigations, involving drug cartels and international arms dealing. These murders might have messed those too.

“Boss, please tell me those are not the senior partner and the mobster?” - said his young partner Samuel, who was just questioning the eyewitness. Jack gave him a disappointed and tired look. Yesterday’s drinking surely didn’t help him to concentrate well, but how the hell could he know, that they would kill Vinnie and the partner, the next day.

“Their heads were glowing blue” - said the sixty-something old man, with a visibly irritated and drunk look, trying to get close to Jack, but barely moving in a straight line. The police officer at the scene, kindly stopped the swaying drunkard, and told him to answer the agent’s questions. Jack was partially astonished that the drunkard wasn’t intimidated by Jack’s size or the large bullet hole wound on the right side of his temple. The nasty scar and the titanium plate clearly visible under his skin, disgusting a lot of people. Then again, with that much alcohol in his blood, the drunkard was not afraid of glowing dead bodies, so why should he be intimidated by Jack.

“It’s them, Samuel” said Jack and raised his flashlight to illuminate the car, the bodies and the cartridges laying on the ground, kindly numbered by the police on the scene.

“Two guns. Two shooters. Automatic weapons. Looks like more than 50 shots fired.”

Samuel nodded.

“The witness confirmed it. Two cars blocked them - one in front of them and one behind. Then two shooters exited the front car and shot with automatic weapons. The witness was just turning around the street when he saw the action. Then the cars took off. He didn’t see no car plate numbers.”

“That’s perfect” - Jack proclaimed.

But something felt off with the bodies, Jack just couldn’t place his finger on it. And then it hit him.

He went around the car and took a look at the passenger seat on which the senior partner was leaning. No bullet holes next to his head. The guy was shot in his forehead multiple times and the seat was not even pierced. There were some holes on the lower part of the seat, but it seem like there were no exit wounds at all for the head shots.

Jack looked at Vinnie’s body that was partially leaning from the seat, and apart from the lack of exit wounds in the head, the only strange thing, was that part of the tissue near Vinnie’s scull was ripped, as if something was sticking out of it, but Jack couldn’t tell what and the flashlight didn’t help much.

“Hey Samuel, come here once you have finished with the witness testimony. I could use some help.” - said Jack while trying to see what has ripped the back of the scull. It surely wasn’t brain matter. “We might need to have a chat with Carlo Gambini as soon as tomorrow. He might have ordered this ordeal and if he brags about it to anyone-“

“You think so?” - Samuel interrupted him. “These guys don’t talk on no phones and barely talk about business in the club. If anything, some of the law partners might know something…”

“Well, I we need to go straight to the safehouse after we wrap up here, to-“

“Please step away, as I need to put the bodies in bags, sir.” - a voice interrupted Jack, for a second time. This time, a medical officer, who was just exiting a police van parked a few meters away.

“Agent, Jack Trimmer - nice to meet you.” - said Jack, rising and pulling his badge from his winter coat. “This is a federal investigation, and these bodies would be moved to an FBI lab for an autopsy. So I can kindly ask you to leave.”

“Sir, were were called in twenty minutes ago to collect the bodies and move them to the district morgue.” - said the medical officer, with an expressionless face, not intimidated, nor dissuaded by Jack.

“Samuel, please come and explain to this motherfucker, that he cannot interfere in our case. I don’t want another obsessive violence report from the bureau.” - said Jack barely holding his anger.

Another guy exited the police van to support his colleague, who just kept looking at the dead bodies.

“Hey mister. We have other bodies to collect as well. There was a shooting in Bronx. Our sergeant told us to wrap up and go.”

Jack was about this close to exploding when Samuel stood in front of him to defuse the situation. “Look, give me the number of your sergeant and we would straighten this.”

Jack, was shaking in anger and pulled his mobile phone, barely managing not to drop it on the muddy street. He dialed a number.

“FBI lab assistant Rosa here.” - said a soft female voice.

“Rosa, we are wrapping up a double homicide here. I will be sending you the bodies for an autopsy”

“Anything strange about the bodies, Jack?” asked Rosa.

“I have a hunch, that there is more than meets the eye.”

“Alright, I will do the autopsy and call you back.” - said Rosa.

But the medic who first interrupted him, was just staring at the bodies, and more precisely their necks, their sculls. And his colleague who was arguing with his partner was also looking at the sculls. What the hell was wrong with those bodies.

Jack couldn’t wait for an autopsy. He put his medical gloves on and decided to take a look. He grabbed Vinnie’s neck with his left hand and carefully tried to open his small head wound, with his index finger, to take a look at his scull fracture, but cut himself on something incredibly sharp and blood started running down his index finger. He instinctively pressed fracture with his thumb and cut his thumb as well. His blood drop on Vinnie’s neck flowed in a strange way. As if it was flowing on an unseen crystal like structure. But there was nothing.

“No, don’t touch their heads.” - shouted the drunkard across the street hysterically.

Before Jack could react, he felt a sudden dizziness, everything went blurry and he saw himself flying a mile above the Iraqi mountains. Those same mountains that he served in as a military contractor back in the day, in 2004.

He saw symbols. Dozens of strange, alien symbols. Glowing blue.

It was as if something was projecting those to him. That structure in Vinnie’s scull?

Was he going crazy? Was he dreaming? Weren’t those his memories?

He saw a hole, maybe a cave and he dive-dropped into it, at an incredible speed. His heart started pumping hard and sweat started running on his forehead. He quickly touched his bullet wound on his left temple.

A large alien symbol glowed blue before his eyes, somehow pulled out of his subconscious, thanks to the crystal.

He saw blood, body parts, soldiers running, shooting, screaming…

Something was inside the darkness… Jack eyes widened, as he started to tremble uncontrollably. That something was partially visible… with long tentacles and pincers… and it was coming for Jack. And then Jack screamed.

Тоя Патрик сигурно би казал, че може да се резне поне 30% от текста с ненужни обяснения, ама засега тъй ще го оставя. Имам 50+ сцени, ама туй е само 150 страници, ако и те са по 3 страници. Ще видя какво ще излезе.

Изписах 7,116 думи. Днеска може да изпиша още 1000 минимум, че главите са интересни.

Ама вече описах 6 глави, а имам общо 50-55. Сигурно ще ударя 60 000 - 70 000 думи най-много дори с добавки, след рязането.

Разбирам ся, защо в "Infected", Scott Sigler има 88 глави (+ пролог, та 89 реално). За да чукнеш 350 страници книга - трилър с 90 000 думи, си трябват повече глави.

И аз трябва да добавя повечко обяснителни сцени. Повечко екшън. Ама тея да ги допиша, пък ще го мисля.

И като напишеш 10к книги ще се откажеш ли с омерзение от писателството както се отрече от патреотарщината?

waldorf

И като напишеш 10к книги ще се откажеш ли с омерзение от писателството както се отрече от патреотарщината?

Не разбира се, бате - едното няма нищо общо с другото.

waldorf

И като напишеш 10к книги ще се откажеш ли с омерзение от писателството както се отрече от патреотарщината?

А ве - ти кат си толкуЗ гоуем патрЕот, ко праеш в Брюксел, бе каун!?

Язе съм се отрекъл от патрЕотарщината и дай Боже, някой ден ще я оплюя в поредица от книги, ама за ся съм в Гетото, а ти ми пилиш от Урсулаград...

Нема такова нещо! В Майнатаун съм си. Даже миналата година фиркахме бири с Ребата.

waldorf

Нема такова нещо! В Майнатаун съм си. Даже миналата година фиркахме бири с Ребата.

На ти една майнатаунска песен тогава - за поздрав!

Последният акаунт на Единия

Изписах 7,116 думи. Днеска може да изпиша още 1000 минимум, че главите са интересни.

Ама вече описах 6 глави, а имам общо 50-55. Сигурно ще ударя 60 000 - 70 000 думи най-много дори с добавки, след рязането.

Разбирам ся, защо в "Infected", Scott Sigler има 88 глави (+ пролог, та 89 реално). За да чукнеш 350 страници книга - трилър с 90 000 думи, си трябват повече глави.

И аз трябва да добавя повечко обяснителни сцени. Повечко екшън. Ама тея да ги допиша, пък ще го мисля.

Офф, ако сложа и "зли гледни точки" бих могъл да всигна главите с още 10-15. Май ще се наложи. И ще резна някои глави на 2.

П.П. Повече кървища трябва да сложа още в началото - ей ся ще добавя една сценка, дето едно извънземно разкъсва некъв пияница, зад некъв стриптиз клуб.

Scott Sigler още в началото на Infected има некъв дет си е изколил семейството и коли неква спец част. Ся сценката има доста малко свързано с цялостната история и е за драмЪ и ужасТ, ама зарибява читателя.

Защо осра хубавата тема за книги с твойте болни фантазии, бе Единка..

Щото не четете бе гяур!

Аре напишете сички книги дето четете тука и нема да ми четете коментарите толкоз често...

И тоя е пич и дава добри съвети...

Нема да добавям "зли гледни точки". Дописвам си draft-a до края на тоя или другия месец. И после ще гледам какво ще добавям.

50-60 сцени, а може да измисля и още.

И тая пичка става и дава добри съвети.

А бе - некой чел ли я е тая?

Tana French?

Много я хвалят - свалих и сега романа "В гората", ама почва бавно и е 450+ страници, бе... ебасиму и романа. Аз у моя ше съм утепал 100 човека вече, а она разследва неколко убийства и некво чудовище.

Бахти кефа - да пишеш книги е яко.

Вече съм изписал 60+ страници draft (17 глави заедно с пролога). Трябваше да си upgrade-на злодеите, че немаше логика, и сега са "невидими", освен че знаят къде се намира главния герой по всяко време.

"Хищника" изглежда като игра в детската градина пред туй.

Draft-ът е доста разпилян. Със сигурност ще трябва да мине през редактор, като го ревизирам още 1-2 пъти, ама мисля, че историята почна да става брутална.