The outline is complete, several have even read it. I met my goal of having it done by the end of August for the most part though I did have a major idea this past week and decided to weave it in there. Goals are great, but they have to be flexible.
Finally, I am writing, from beginning to end (before I was just writing scenes so I wouldn’t lose them) Sergeant Christopher Scott DeHaven’s journey. So, not counting the other ten pages I wrote along with the scene where he sits with the Devil and has a smoke, I’ve got 290 words with the plot completely worked out.
Here’s a new excerpt…
An explosion, audible only to a small group of boys, rocked Martin Street. Three of them were hit with invisible shrapnel as the rest fought to keep the ground they had gained over the past hour.
Medic!
The small kid who wore the weird glasses ran to Frankie to give aid, but he was too late. Frankie was gone. Dead.
Christopher motioned to his front line to move in and take the left side of the barren lot. He should have taken a moment to mourn his best friend’s passing but war is hell and his country was counting on him. His losses were negligible, though Mrs. Allen would probably be devastated by the loss of her son. Mothers always are. But real soldiers understood that winning the battle was the only way to honor those who’d fallen in it.
“Christopher, come home for dinner!” His grandfather’s voice echoed through their ears like gunshots.
Kevin glanced over at him, his fancy plastic and metal gun gripped tight in his white knuckled hands. “You better go.”
Christopher shook his head and motioned again. He directed what was left of his rag-tag platoon to move along the blind side of the enemy and attack from a direction they did not expect.
“How long do I have to lay here?” Frankie was up on his elbows.
“You’re dead, stupid, it’s a forever thing or hasn’t church taught you anything?” Chris laughed and turned to meet the barrel of a gun pointed at his chest. Ronnie Wilson. Son of a bitch.
“Bam! You’re dead!”
I’ll edit in a new word count if I continue to write tonight… which is almost a given.
